Chapter 33
Previously:
Arthur sighs again. “Hours is still fast. And… you know how it is. If something looks too good to be true, that’s because it is. If people can take advantage of you and screw you over, they usually do. And powerful, older men romancing younger women is dangerous for the women at best, and then we’re talking about a vampire and a dhampir, and vampires are supposed to have huge prejudices against dhampirs… So… so I wish we hadn’t done the ritual. And maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about Radu. But I really don’t know how I could’ve gotten any other idea…”
“I’m not disagreeing with any of that, but I also wish we had let Cycy talk more.”
He very much agrees on older men lording over young girls in need. He’s seen it one too many times. Has seen it with young mollies, too.
Honestly, sometimes he nearly dreamed of getting a sugar daddy himself. But that still would be a relationship he knows is based on specific roles and both knowing that. But having met Radu, no, he’s not one of those. It didn’t pass him by that Radu dropped so much as the word ‘nephew’ for him once they started talking, and sure as hell never acknowledged any family relation to Darcy. He’d say Radu is terribly aware of how it might look, and he doesn’t like it one bit.
No, Quincy isn’t worried about Radu romancing Darcy. No, he can see it only too well. Hurt schemer spots perfect opportunity and then finds himself helpless when his heart overrules his better judgement.
But now it’s too late to have those insights, he should have had them weeks ago. That would have saved them a whole lot of headache.
To put that mildly.
Back to the conversation, back to huffing, and maybe back to making a slight excuse for his oversight: “I confess I’m no good in physically dangerous situations, and that’s what it seemed to be.”
~
Arthur nods slowly.
“Yeah. Like… She attacked you and John, it really freaked me out.” He bites his lip, admits: “John could’ve died. He hit his head, and there was blood, and…” He takes a shuddering breath, finds his voice come out quiet and strained: “That’s how Gregory died. He got hit by a wagon and he fell and his leg was broken really badly, but he hit his head and I think that’s what killed him.” The memory is still vivid, it hasn’t been that long ago at all. “Not… not right away. He was… kind of dazed, not properly conscious, and I got him into an old warehouse and then…” He shudders. “And then I couldn’t do anything, because my magic didn’t work yet, and I didn’t know any healing, and I was scared to leave him alone, and I didn’t know who to get for help and so I just sat there, and sat there, and sat there, and the sun was shining, and then… he was gone.” His voice grows quieter and quieter as he talks, but the words still just seem to spill out of him.
~
“Aw, honey.” That came out of nowhere but then, Quincy’s seen that, too. The weirdest things can remind people of their trauma, oh, of their grief. Arthur is grieving his friend all over again.
It won’t do to be this far over there, not when Arthur just trusted him with something so raw, so clearly hard for him to speak about. Understandable.
Getting back up from the sofa, he walks over, sits down in front of the chair Arthur is straddling and leans back. Sure, there’s the back of the chair between them, but he can look up at Arthur and he can even reach backward to hug Arthur. It’s slightly awkward, and that’s good for a topic like that.
“Sitting with someone as they die is a kindness. You are kind. How about you tell me other times you were kind? Want to tell me about your friend?”
There are some things Quincy isn’t going to say, not yet, maybe not at all, but upset or not, that demon did manage to fool Arthur, what kind of person was Gregory for Arthur to really not notice?
~
Does he want to tell Quincy about his friend?
“It… it feels so far away, now. Even though it wasn’t long ago. And it feels like I’m not sure if I even knew him,” Arthur admits. “Like… if I really had, wouldn’t I have noticed it wasn’t him anymore?
“But I didn’t want to notice.
“At first, I was really concerned about whether it was really him, because I felt it. I knew something’d come through, something hungry. But he said it was already dead, that he only got a bit of power… and he was my only friend.
“He was always my only friend.
“He was the only one who wanted to play with me when I was a kid. All the other kids only called me names or ran away or tried to beat me up, but he stuck around even when I didn’t trust him at first. And he always tried to cheer me up, and… after my father got arrested, when we would’ve frozen to death or starved, we kept each other warm and he got money. I would’ve tried to maybe join one of the pick pocket gangs, too, or something, but he said I shouldn’t, that I should focus on learning stuff. And it turns out actually he…” Arthur ducks his head, “he did the prostitution thing. To keep us alive.”
Then he feels a flare of anger. “But he never told me! He should’ve told me, we could’ve found another way!”
~
It isn’t a nice thought and for a moment Quincy wonders if he listened to a whisper, but still, it’s true: Arthur is so terribly easy to manipulate with a little bit of care. And that means he has to ask the important question, even if it isn’t kind, but it will be very telling:
“Did the other children want to play with him?”
~
“Uh?” Arthur makes, lifts his head again, sits up a bit straighter while he looks at Quincy over the chair’s back. “I don’t…” He tries to think back. “I don’t know…? I don’t think I really saw him with them, I guess?”
He remembers Gregory appearing before him, grin in place, watching the stranger warily over the top of his book from where he’d tucked himself into the shade of an out-of-the-way, scraggly tree. No, he hadn’t really seen Gregory with the other kids, otherwise he would’ve known him by sight, at least.
~
No surprise there. Quincy is pretty sure he knows why Gregory was Arthur’s only friend: He was the socially insecure one, the one that didn’t push the kid ready to use him away. Lone target.
Ugh, Quincy hates how much he would have probably done the same if he needed something.
Still, he sighs. “Honey, he was your only friend because you were the only one who would take him. I know, I’ve only ever known the demon, but… did his entire behaviour change?”
~
Arthur bites his lip. He can tell Quincy is driving at something, and he can even see the rough shape of it.
Actually, he can see more than just the rough shape of it. It doesn’t take a genius.
He bites his lip, looks back down. “…If it had, I would’ve noticed. Even I would’ve noticed. Especially since I was suspicious at first.”
~
“Yes, honey.”
That must sting, so Quincy gets back up and leans into Arthur from the side, starts petting his hair gently. He can do the painful part of healing, of helping Arthur grow, while being gentle.
“The demon wants things from us. I think the same was true for Gregory. It was never about you. It was about what he could get from you. I’m sorry, I know that hurts when he was your only friend.”
~
Arthur finds his eyes stinging once more as he nods, leans into the hug. He thought he had so many good memories of Gregory, so many important ones, so many treasured ones.
But now they all feel faded like ink that’s been out in the sun too long.
Pale and distant and never as nice as you remember when you look at it again.
“It does. It really does. I always… I’ve always been grateful to have ‘at least that much’, haven’t I? But… but… but I should have more than just ‘at least’ something!”
“He was using you. The demon might have made it worse, but you don’t have to grasp for straws. You are no longer poor, you aren’t starving, you aren’t going to freeze to death, you have a home, and-” Making the hug tighter and putting a kiss on Arthur’s hair, Quincy adds in a soft whisper: “You have us.”
That makes Arthur sniffle. “And it means so much!”
He takes a deep breath, blinks the tears away, and smiles. “Thank you for being here for me and talking with me. Thank you for being my boyfriend.” He’s feeling a little daring, so he leans in and kisses Quincy’s cheek.
~
Well, well, well, will you look at that. Now Arthur is giving him kisses. Quincy rather thinks he got somewhere here.
Of course he did.
He knows how to handle strays, how to heal them.
But he’s not going to tell Arthur that. It would just come across cruel. It probably is. But Quincy needs the control, needs to feel that yes, he’s special, so he grins, even gives a little purr.
“If you keep this up, I’ll be smitten with you. Now let me fix your makeup, it’s Darcy with the thing for tears, not me.”
Arthur blushes, of course, predictable and enjoyable, just how he likes his boyfriends. “That… doesn’t sound very likely…”
Okay, that drac can be a bit silly, but Quincy shall allow it, starts giggling while he turns Arthur’s chair around and back to the makeup.
“Unlikely like a molly falling in love with a woman, unlikely like Radu and me being instant best friends, or unlikely like Darcy taking you in lovingly despite being terrified of people?”
“…Well, when you put it that way…” Arthur has to concede, then shuts up, also a good boyfriend trait, so Quincy can work here without his canvas moving.
*
“There you two are!”
Quincy got done with Arthur’s makeup, and then, because he felt like it, upgrading his own, plus his outfit, he really shouldn’t look so plain next to Radu, so Arthur got a fashion show, too, when he hears his favourite grumpy voice declaring that.
“Yes, darling, we’re here and I’m ever so happy to see you have some urgency, what’s going on?”
John just points a thumb over his shoulder before turning.
“Radu brought the fae guy. Fucking weirdo. Anyway, you two should come.”
Now that sounds like John isn’t mentioning something important, and Quincy is glad to get an excuse to bounce to his feet that isn’t obviously his drac doing that stupid dog routine of excitedly running around because a friend is at the door. Yes, yes, he wants to see Radu, too, but leave him some dignity, will you?
~
A little self-conscious still at his new appearance, Arthur smiles at John- reassured by his usual gruffness and not making a big deal out of it. Also, given that Quincy is, of course, much more colourful and attention-catching than he is, he’s not feeling too badly out of his depth as he follows along- wondering what kind of ‘weirdo’ John means.
~
Whatever type of weirdo exactly John means, the man couldn’t look weirder in the dirty street in front of Arthur’s house. Quincy’s entire posture changes after he, for half a second, stares up and up at the towering pillar of fae-beauty perfection and can’t for the life of him decide if he wants to bend that over the closest table as soon as possible, or if he wants to snarl at the man to better never, ever get anywhere close to Darcy!
Given that the man’s reaction is a giggle and coo before telling Radu that he’s adorable, Quincy decides he hates him, and makes a show of building himself up tall and claiming his territory. This is still his boyfriend’s house! Sadly, that only gets him another round of cooing.
“Stand still there, your grandfather left a pretty little bug in these wards, let me change them so they open for you, not him. Then you can go play with the poison moths.”
~
Arthur also blinks, thinking that wow, that man is very beautiful, and very tall, and very out of place, and there’s going to be very many rumours around the street… Then he glances at Quincy, who seems to… basically be doing the opposite he did with Radu, and decide it’s dislike at first glance. But more importantly: “…Bug?” he asks, alarmed.
“Not literally, more a… snowflake, yes, winter court, very fitting, ooh, cute!”
While he answers Arthur, the man runs his fingers over the wall, makes the wards shimmer and dance with colours as he adjusts dials that were never visible before, then he pulls a literal snowflake, about the size of Arthur’s thumbnail, out of the wards.
“Quincy, that’s what you’re normally called, right?, look, it even tingles on your strings, aw, the family resemblance is adorable. This should be easy.”
~
Radu is well familiar with Felodiau’s peculiarities. The man, after all, has too many contracts, too much emotion, too much power, he is somewhat impaired, but that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. Certainly he shall watch closely, or as closely as he can, not understanding the process.
He can feel his drac’s head bolt up.
Dear Quincy jumped back.
Is there magic he is unaware of?
No! He won’t allow it!
Throwing the potential political fallout to the wind, he interposes himself, dares snarl and show fangs and powers at Felodiau. Quincy is pale with fear, he shall protect him even from Felodiau!
The reaction is not what he expected. Although, why he is surprised, he does not know. This is Felodiau.
“Oh, oooh, I see how it is in this string! One of those! Calm, calm puppy, calm little vampire, I’m not going to hurt him. What was that song Fali likes?, ah yes.”
His landlord is indeed singing at him, soothingly even, and yes, a song he treasures. But that is not where his focus is.
No, Quincy is whimpering in his mind, upset enough to gesticulate and even grimace while he lays down his fears at Radu’s mental feet, and Allah, does it take him a short moment to compose himself at the trust, at the way Quincy’s drac nuzzles in, seeking protection, even while Quincy outwardly respects his needed personal space.
~
Arthur… is very confused. String? “What you’re normally called”? What?
“…So what are you going to do with that?” he asks, since that seems to be the most important question.
“Change it to read as Quincy’s key to the wards rather than Baobhan’s, of course! He’s good with these little things and Llew is a… wait, this century’s term… complete and utter failure, yes, that would describe his power about adequately. So once that adorable little prodigy over there has the key, Llew will never manage to keep him out of the nexus again. So, Radu, less drac misbehaving, sweet as it obviously is seeing you protect him like that, and more all of you going off on your merry way of being amusing!”
Felodiau waves the snowflake slightly in front of Radu’s face, who narrows his eyes at him.
“Will it do anything to his own fae soul? He refuses, and I will protect him in that decision to my last drop of blood, to take the key if it makes him anything like his grandfather.”
From behind Arthur there’s a click and John aims his shotgun at Felodiau.
“Same here.”
“Agreed,” Arthur says. “Also, Baobhan put a key in the wards? When and how did he do that? When he broke them?”
Felodiau cocks his head at John, then coos. “But this one’s not your girl! Aw, this string is cute, everybody so growly over Quincy. Is that Darcy-growly channelling? Ooh, Darcys growl good!”
With a sigh, Radu clearly seems to try to bring the conversation back on track.
“Focus, one string at a time, please, Felodiau. Answer our questions.”
“Right, right!” Giggling again, Felodiau points at the snowflake. “Just a magical tool, it has nothing of Baobhan’s on it apart from his magical signature so the wards recognise him. It’s like… oh, what would your mortal minds understand? Like a portrait you show a guard! I’m going to change the portrait to Quincy’s. That’s all, no evil Baobhan touch. I get it, those Lucifer and Eire ones are a bit of an embarrassment, yes, yes, oops, should have noticed that earlier. Right, so nothing like that, you’ll still have to find your own names.”
~
That bloody sweet smile he’s getting is only making Quincy growl more! He feels condescended to, and worse, he kind of thinks there’s nothing he can do, because his instincts are tingling, there’s the crackle he had under his nails when he made things hover, there’s the feeling he had when he ran the ley line. And it’s coming off Felodiau so thickly that he’s surprised there isn’t a haze of glitter and magic around the guy.
He really, really can’t stand the man. He just knows he’s never been in the presence of that much power, and it’s infuriating!
All those giggly comments… He wants to understand them! Felodiau is showing off that he knows about power, knows about other strings, even knows about other instances of him. How?!
Wait. His eyebrows shoot up, and for a second, desire outweighs hate as he takes a step closer.
“You’re a king, aren’t you?”
He shouldn’t have asked.
The giggle and wink are bad enough, but for just the tiniest of moments, Quincy can see the illusion fall away.
Knows that Felodiau is teasing again, teasing him with showing off that his human-appropriate disguise is short in comparison to the full extent of that tower of strength. Quincy wants to hiss at the volcano of red hair and wings so bright with dancing nodes of flame that even he feels drawn before Felodiau’s words finally get him back to Quincy periphery over his raging hate boner.
“Of course I am! Now, let me give you the key, you adorable potential, you. Granddaddy didn’t go to the lengths of putting it into the wards when he came knocking for no reason, and I want to hear all about his face when he tries to visit again and got outsmarted by his grandson who doesn’t even know his name yet!”
~
King? Arthur’s eyes widen- he read about those! And that hair colour… a summer king, even?
“…Why’re you helping?” he asks. So far as he can tell, Felodiau, was that his name? hasn’t asked for anything in return… Surely even summer kings would need to ask for a deal of some kind to pull one over on you?
~
“I always help your family! You are so much fun! Especially this one.”
Felodiau accompanies that with an obviously naughty grin and pointing at Radu.
Quincy isn’t having it! The man has trauma! It’s even showing, Quincy remembers the way Radu protected him earlier. Stood against a fae king for him, (be still, not now,) but that grin on Felodiau makes him take a half-step back. Quincy doesn’t need to be able to see Radu’s face, he knows there must be fear, and over his dead body is somebody preying on Radu!
He nearly collides with him as he presses past, has to swerve to not invade Radu’s personal space, but that is important, so he can do it even while he builds himself up. He might be nowhere as tall as Felodiau, but he is taller than Radu, and maybe for the first time, Quincy really uses his height on purpose to shield somebody. It feels weird, but he wants to do it.
What he wants to do even more is hissing at the bloody fae.
“Hands off of Moonshine, you stiletto-wearing gust of hot air! Hands off of the poor drac! I can see why you’d do that, I won’t let you. Give me that bloody key and then go shove that stoned-out-of-your-mind giggle where I can’t hear it!”
~
Wonderful, that worked just as he had hoped. Adorable little Radus deserve to have somebody growly over their dracs. Darcys growl better, but a hissy Quincy will do, too. Those just need a little bit of a nudge on their cute competitiveness to get going.
Done.
Felodiau feels good about his soft tug on this string. Also, aw, always with the emotion explosions in these Draculesti!
“Phew, that one moulted off of Vlad alright, always with the Draculesti temper, you are all so delicious. Of course you can have him in this string. I have my own.”
With yet another giggle, oh yes, that got him the growl he wanted from Quincy, Felodiau sets to matching the magical frequencies. If this was another nexus, he would have to be far more circumspect and careful, but please, this one is run by Spring, and worse, with Llew involved. No, no, he’s unconcerned that anybody who’s supposed to be keeping an eye on the wards is noticing a thing.
Some little touches here, a tug there, running his magic through the mechanism and reattuning it to the false marker and tada, all done. Time to return the snowflake to its hidey hole.
“There we go. See, all done now. Nothing to worry about, your uncle Didi’s got you! Toodles.”
After one long look at everybody’s tense faces, Felodiau glides down the alley, humming to himself. Yes, another good deed for him, Fali will be so proud of him, hm, what kind of reward can he tease out of him for that, he wonders.
~
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