Chapter 35
Previously:
Arthur realises he’s being carried like a little kid, which is embarrassing, but also, he’s really not in the mood to try walking anywhere else.
And Art is big and warm.
Maybe being carried isn’t so bad?
He remembers Quincy carrying him back after the hunter attack, but that felt different. Art is so much larger.
He has a very, very distant sense that he’s been carried by someone much larger than him before, and liked it. It’s not something he could even call a memory, too insubstantial for that, just a very vague sense.
Which… wouldn’t have been his father.
His mother, then?
What a strange idea.
But either way… Yeah, he decides it’s not so bad and just lets his head rest against Art’s shoulder.
~
Damn that guy for telling him what to do.
Quincy’s not doing it because of that, nope. He just happens to agree. That’s all. And he sure as hell isn’t going to try to carry John, undermine weeks of work on his frail male ego, he doesn’t think so, thank you very much!
Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have John’s arm over his shoulders, well, sort of, he’s too tall for John to do that comfortably, so it’s more his own arm underneath John’s that does the steadying. But also, he missed the bed in here.
What he doesn’t miss is the bottle of liquor on the side table. The very nearly empty bottle of liquor on the side table. That’s not a good sign if ever he’s seen one. Something to talk over with John. Whenever he feels ready to talk.
For right now, get him out of his shoes, dim the lights and stick a cool cloth on his forehead… okay, and totally enjoy the fact that John allows him to do as much.
Then it’s time to run over to Arthur and, well, some tea maybe? Lots of hugging, he is sure. That looks like emotional impact just as much as exhaustion. No wonder.
Quincy would know, he’s been attacked by the demon before. He knows how it feels.
But also, how is he supposed to concentrate on that and on Radu trying to inquire with him as to the situation and what to do with the woman in the entry way? He seems to not be able to calm her down, her mind is so empty of agency that Radu feels uncomfortable to so much as move her. Ugh.
Too many crises to run at once!
At least get them all together, so he tells Radu to bring the girl up here, too.
~
Okay, yes, this is good. This is exactly what Arthur needs.
Just a breather, and Quincy fussing and hugging him also helps. Like it’s melting away that weird glass-pane feeling and grounding him back into his body.
After a few minutes of resting and breathing, he even manages to sit up on the couch and wrap his hands around a cup of tea. The warmth and the scent and taste of it also bring him back more into the world.
He takes a deep a breath, feels it settle his heart beat and relax his shoulders, and finally has enough presence of mind to properly take in where he is: In Darcy’s room, on the couch. John, curled up on the bed with the careful, fragile way of holding himself that Arthur recognises as a power-strain headache.
Art, looking worried, Quincy fussing around them with the determined focus that Arthur’s also starting to recognise: His own way of coping with a crisis.
“Okay,” Arthur finally breathes, quietly, in deference to John. “What actually happened?”
Which is when Radu arrives in the doorway with the selkie.
~
“Moonshine! Perfect. Put her over there, corner reading nook. Arthur, no blowing on your tea where he could smell it. Art, fill Arthur in.”
Art can hear the words but he’s pretty sure his brain isn’t processing anything. His hands are at his belt, where his crossbow should be, but isn’t.
Voivode, voivode, voivode, and the boys are vulnerable. He has to do something! Protect them. All he can do, can think of, is to interpose himself… but they are at opposite ends of the room!
“My apologies, may I please pass by? The poor woman is distressed and I cannot quite figure out what is wrong. If it would not be too much to ask, I would also like to be filled in.”
Those words compute even less, Art finds himself just standing there. Not quite looking at the man who must be Radu, unable to make up his mind about what he could possibly do when he feels himself shoved, physically shoved and huffed at by Quincy.
“Get out of his way, he doesn’t like men in his personal space! Shoo!”
He doesn’t what?
Art stares, both at Quincy completely, without any hesitation, taking a few more steps towards Radu, and at the way Quincy changes his entire body language to… uh, feminine? caring? non-threatening? For a voivode? Say what now?
But… it works, Radu seems to relax, he smiles downright softly at Quincy, thanks him for the consideration, and yes, brings the woman gently over to the seating area. The world doesn’t want to make any sense. But then, Lucy had told him, too, that Radu was on his best behaviour when she only just saw him at the Court, with John.
This is all clearly over his head. He probably should just let the kids run this. Clearly, they have it better in hand than him. Damn.
Uh, wait, right, he was supposed to answer Arthur! “Best I can reconstruct, John just fought off Gregory in the study. Mariam shot him, too.”
~
…Right, vampires and food, bad. Arthur doesn’t know whether it does anything, but still cups his hand around the rim of his cup to shield it as he takes another sip.
And everyone’s confused, and Art looks very jumpy at the voivode in the room, (not that Arthur can blame him,) and… Yeah, Arthur needs to get his brain in gear, this is his job.
“Okay. Okay, so after he attacked us, he circled around and went after you.” He huffs out a breath, but no, no time to freak out again. “Fuck.” He looks at Radu, frowns a little. “Did you say he invited you in?”
~
“Indeed he did. Come to think of it, I did not even have to prompt him with my powers. At the time, I took that to be a reflection of his, how to put this politely, lack in faculties.”
Having settled the obviously still distraught woman into what looks like an at least physically comforting chair, Radu dares step closer to the bed. The way Lord Silver’s thoughts feel against his own shields, as he promised not to listen in, tell him that there is much strain on his mind.
He wonders if he may be able to assist, which is rather the preposterous thought, so he drops it.
There is certainly no chance that he would be allowed, even should he offer. No, the only one who might be so daring is his căldură, this impossibility now hovering between all of them.
Although, his thoughts also show signs of stress. And there… yes, he shall dare. Shall even dare to step close to Quincy again and offer him a smile and a mental nudge if he may be so very bold and give him control over himself back.
That he is again being swatted at but never touched deepens the smile. The mental comment, apparently for Master Lancaster’s benefit kept quiet, about it being a little bit late now to ask if he may plunge himself into him, though, has Radu nigh blush.
Heavens, but the man is crude.
Still, it was a quip, but one followed up with an acknowledgement that he’d appreciate getting rid of the ‘ridiculous jitters’.
So help Radu does, not much, nothing like that supposed plunging. Just a skim, not even an entry, it is heart craft, it requires his own emotions, not letting himself into the other person’s mind. He can use his determination to keep Quincy safe, his pleasant surprise upon the truth of that, and share it.
Balm offered and thanks received, in the form of, angels, a smile just as pleasant as Darcy’s, he finally focuses back on Master Lancaster.
“I have to believe, given all these puzzle pieces, that he, in fact, is an enemy, and I should not have kept my first attack willfully non-lethal.”
~
Arthur glances between Radu, and Quincy, and the selkie. (There’s some eye contact and stuff going on between Radu and Quincy again that he’s going to put aside on the ‘drac stuff Radu-Quincy weirdness’ pile for now.)
Radu was being intentionally non-lethal?
Arthur suddenly realises that he most decidedly wasn’t.
“He’s…” He bites his lip. Couldn’t Radu tell already? “He’s a demon. And…” Now he looks at Quincy again. “That was a demon attack, wasn’t it? He got me? Earlier? I… panicked, or something. I didn’t panic like that when we had voivodes breaking down the wards and shit, that was him doing his demon thing, right?”
He didn’t panic like that earlier this night when Radu popped up sitting on their fucking chandelier, for fuck’s sake.
~
Oh does he ever feel so much better. Pity not being able to give Radu a soft pet on the arm for that. Well, not outwardly, how did that go again? Ah yes, get over there, furry thing, say thanks.
While Quincy leaves his drac to do that, and totally does not preen at seeing the effect he had there, he nevertheless hones in on Arthur, too. Sits down next to him and wraps an arm around him.
“Yes, honey, I’m sorry to say, he did. Not a big one. You are starting to be able to talk again. When he got me… I was out for a day.”
Does Radu ever make a satisfying drac sound at that. He feels a little bit guilty, but he said it before, maybe if he can hold on to Radu’s drac, he has a little bit of Darcy still there. Not that that stops him from shivering at Radu’s words.
“Demons always lead to the demise of those they feed upon. How long has this situation prevailed? I shall not allow dear Quincy or Darcy to be murdered under their own roof. My apologies for not having taken the requisite inspection upon the demon’s mind so as to realize his nature. Has an exorcist been contacted?”
‘Demise’… Quincy can see it. It felt like icy death that night. That terrible night, and now he’s holding Arthur closer for his own comfort. At least he can answer that yes, Mariam should be in the process of getting them professional help right now. “He’s never been this aggressive, but then… Cycy is missing, he’s getting hungry, isn’t he?”
Yes, he rather agrees with the thought from John he caught: If somebody has to die, it is the demon. Quincy doesn’t like violence but this… this is self-defense.
~
Arthur shivers, and not actually at the notion of killing Gregory – the demon. No, it’s because of Quincy’s words.
“It was bad enough just now…” He sighs. “I’m sorry.” Then he looks at Radu again. “End of August. Well, that’s how long he’s been a demon. I don’t… know if he’s always been this… hungry.”
To think that Darcy’s been dealing with this, suffering from it, and not saying anything… It makes his eyes sting once again, and he tucks his face against Quincy’s arm for a moment.
He knows he can’t really hide from it, but, just for a moment…
~
“Not your fault, honey. You were right on my arm now, protecting me, so chin up before John thinks you are aiming for his ‘big, strong man’ position.” Is Quincy ever glad that he can see John lifting an arm and flipping him off for that one. That makes him chuckle. Also, not as if Radu wasn’t just as eager to spring to his defense. Should he hiss? He doesn’t feel like hissing.
Not even at Radu nodding and thanking both Arthur and John for their valiance.
“Should your human resources not be sufficient, I would like to offer mine. Until those resources arrive, and if I may have permission, I would like to stay close as I have negligibly more powers than Quincy, so might be able to notice the demon returning faster.”
‘Negligibly more,’ his tiny tush! “Moonshine, now you are being absurd. Everyone, shush, Radu can stay with me if all of you are too worried. He has my permission, I’m the social lead here, so no objections.”
That he really, really doesn’t want to endanger John any more than he already did is also important. He needs his darling, and needs him not stuck with a constant migraine. Also, please, Radu snarled at a summer king for him, what is a little demon? Yes, that’s what he’s going to tell himself, quiet on the cheap seats.
“Just, what are we going to do with the selkie? That throws our plans there out the window.”
Of course, Moonshine right into the breach, offering help again, Quincy is starting to wonder who that one is trying to impress.
“Maybe if I understood the situation better I might be of assistance?”
~
Arthur pulls his face out from between Quincy and the sofa cushions, because it just occurs to him… Radu. With the mind reading. If he’s really willing to help…
“She’s a selkie we were keeping an eye on. We don’t know about the extent of it, but we were investigating a… group,” he feels his lips curl in disgust, “who are imprisoning selkie women and… raping them and, from what we can tell, selling them as wives by taking away their pelts.”
~
‘Selling them as wives.’
Radu stumbles a step back.
His drac is howling, always howling, but in his mind it distorts, more and more, until it sounds like Arabic singing, until it sounds like Hungarian laughter. He starts to shake and stares down at his fingers, claws there already.
No… please no. Not those memories.
~
Something is wrong, Quincy feels it against his mind as if somebody was touching the blanket of reality underneath him, as if the precarious balance he had between him and Radu’s drac is shifting.
He needs to help!
He… wants to help.
With a kiss to Arthur’s hair, he jumps back up, can only at the last possible moment stop himself from running right at Radu to hug him, no, slow, cautious, humming as he steps closer, can just about feel his darling’s and Art’s eyes on him as, yes, he’s walking right up to the clearly upset voivode.
The voivode with his claws out and his fingers trembling.
But also the voivode who is looking at him so lost, so scared. Quincy looks at him through Darcy’s eyes, through his own eyes, of course his queen wanted to love the man better. Until she can do that, he’ll care it better.
But what can he do?
What would Darcy do? He reaches with his mind instead of his hands, envisions his drac’s, no, his own snout nudging at Radu, soft, gentle, envisions… Oh, he can’t be doing this, but he can hear, no feel, the howling, the pain, the anger, the old hurt, and he knows what to do, what Darcy would do. He envisions his drac stepping over Radu, between him and the memory, between him and the hurt, sheltering him from it without touch.
“Come on, listen to me, Moonshine, I’m right here. Right here, honey.”
He doesn’t know when he started saying the words out loud, too, but he can see Radu waver, can feel his poor drac, the beautiful white thing under all those chains, turn its head towards him, eyes large and so full of pain, brimming over with tears, and he keeps talking. Ends up holding Radu, and when did Radu actually curl against him? Also, when did he cover them with his wings? Doesn’t matter, it’s alright, he’s taking care of it.
“I won’t let him hurt you again. You don’t have to be like her.”
~
Even Arthur is sure that he’s reading the pain that crosses Radu’s face correctly- something he said hit Radu hard, and also, there’s suddenly those white wolf ears again, and those are definitely distressed-looking. All the scared/hurt crinkle to them, and Arthur keeps himself very still.
Quincy, however, is approaching, and Radu’s… yes, Radu’s crying, but not snapping, not getting worse, and then they’re suddenly a ball of feathers and he can hear Quincy talking- He takes that as confirmation of some of the guesses he and Quincy had, but this… this is private. It feels weird to be here to witness it, and Arthur turns his eyes away.
Instead, he finds Art’s eyes where he’s standing, tense, across the room. He doesn’t have any convenient ears to make reading him easier, so Arthur makes a soothing gesture and hopes Art understands to keep still and let Quincy deal with it.
Arthur’s pretty sure Quincy’s dealing successfully with it, but he doesn’t want there to be any bad stuff happening because one of them startled Radu when he’s clearly on a hair trigger right now.
~
Could the guy have his panic attack somewhere else? John still has a migraine here!
At least his bro is on it. Quincy’s got this, he’s second to only Darcy on taking care of somebody, so it’ll be fine.
Whenever it stops being too loud.
If he could, John would really want to get out of the room. Maybe even take the selkie with him, that one must be so fucking confused. As is though, all he can do is smack at his brain for being kind of jealous at Radu so openly letting himself cry when John feels he kind of needs that, too, but obviously can’t.
~
Hush, hush. Quincy feels somewhat ridiculous for how much he’s enjoying having the voivode curled into him, the same one who stood against a fae lord to protect him, yes, this is just fair exchange.
He likes it and he wants more and he wants Radu to have a chance to calm down without the entire audience. So he starts coaxing, if Radu can be curled into him like this, he can touch him, obviously, and it won’t even be anything for which Quincy moves. No, he tells the man, tells the drac, to go hide them in a den, a safe, private spot. Carry him there. And because Quincy has a good idea about what might all be going into the obviously triggered trauma, he even gently coaxes that he would like to see the strong man he knows Radu to be.
Lifting little him and carrying him is no feat at all, as is making him feel safe in his arms.
Now that is better. There is the fluster back. Quincy much prefers that. And obviously it is easy for Radu to lift him into his arms, voivode, duh.
Maneuvering with those wings obscuring most everything, on the other hand, is harder, even makes Quincy giggle with the way Radu only glances over his wings while, yes, finally, getting them out the door. This calls for Quincy’s own room, he’ll care it better.
~
The hell did Art just watch? And is that really safe for Quincy? But what would he even do. Also, what’s with that woman who still hasn’t said a word? And John pretty much just ignored the whole thing?
Over his damn head!
“What the hell just happened? And what are we doing now?”
~
Uh… Well, John’s not up to answering, so it seems to be up to Arthur?
“Radu had a bit of a freak out?” he offers, keeping his voice to a quiet murmur in deference to John’s head. “And Quincy’s handling it?”
~
Right, shit, keeping his voice down. Art tries that.
“I could see that much. I just don’t trust my eyes.”
Walking over to the woman, Art tries to give her a smile, but she’s not even looking at him, just at the floor. Yeah, he is not even the worst off in the room. Still, maybe just sitting next to her will help a little bit, he tends to have a good effect on distressed women normally.
“So, right before Radu had his little bit of ‘might kill everyone by accident’ moment, what were you thinking of there, with telling him?”
~
“It is pretty weird,” Arthur agrees. “But, uh… drac things, I guess?” he offers, and looks at the selkie. He feels sorry that she’s been thrown into the middle of this, he can’t even imagine how confusing and scary it must be for her.
And now he’ll be talking about her while she’s in the room without talking with her, which seems really rude, but it’s not like he’s got much of a choice.
“I was thinking that if Radu really wants to help, well… He’s a mind reader.” He nods at the selkie. “He could figure out that selkie thing and find all the people involved and how it really works and how to shut it down, couldn’t he?”
~
How did he not think of that yet?
Probably too busy with the whole fucking rollercoaster and then migraine, but John still lifts the cold cloth slightly to look over at Arthur and whistle a bit.
“Fuck, that would really help. We’d be done with this fucked-up situation. The women would be safe. Radu would maybe have earned his keep. I like it. Give it a bit, Molly will have him patched up and ready to be useful in no time, I’m sure.”
Noticing Mariam walking past the door, probably only because she does it way faster than is needed, he can’t help a mean grin. “And there goes our telegram to solve the other problem.”
~
Arthur slumps back into the couch cushions in realisation.
“Fuck. We’d be done on our other fronts. All cleaned up. And we’d have a test case of how it’s like to work with him before we go… any further with this association.” Arthur flicks a look at the castle meaningfully.
~
Could Art ever do with less things to keep track off, and he’s about to say that when he sees that John is trying not to laugh, yeah, not good to laugh when your head is killing you, he’s been hungover often enough to know that. Also, when he hears what John has to say, it’s a groan, not a laugh, on his side.
“Sure, any other impossible wishes? We’re stuck with him. The dhampirs like him.”
~
Arthur joins in Art’s groan.
“They really do, don’t they?” He looks towards the door Radu and Quincy disappeared out of. “…Maybe I really did misjudge him. …Or maybe I shouldn’t make like a dhampir and decide after only a few hours of exposure… What was he like at the Court?” he asks John, curious for his impression.
~
“Frankly, scary in how polite he was.”
Yeah, that’s a nod from Art as well. No surprise there, of course Lucy would have kept him up to date, and she didn’t have anything bad to say about Radu. Doesn’t mean John is any less grumbly about it. But then, he doesn’t want to have a temper, why would he want another guy to have one? Still, he can expand on his assessment.
“Lucy was really trying to get a reaction out of him. Nothing. And Felodiau, too. You’ve seen the weirdo. Radu knew how to handle him, all the way up to him making that creep comment.”
~
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