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Janus was unsure if he preferred when people lied about liking him, or when they were honest about it. Some children were scared of him. Some adults were scared of him. He could tell. That was likely the worst part about when people lied. He could still tell. In the way children would take steps away from him when he asked to play. In the way mothers would take their child’s hands and hide them behind their skirts.
When he lied, Janus decided, he was going to make every little bit of those lies count. His lies were going to look like the truth.
Dee, and Ell, as he’d taken to dubbing his individual heads, were looped over each other. He sighed, and rolled over, untangling his heads. The sky over Hilore was different from their regular home overlooking the sea. Darkened skies floated past day after day.
His father had taken them to the Hilore house, and it had been quiet. People here, at least seemed to think it rude to mention the circumstances of his birth to his face. Most people seemed to just avoid them. Which is what made the woman so much more unusual.
Her features were sharp and just slightly off from human. It reminded him of his father nowadays, in an odd way. She walked up to the prince with a light fluff of her skirt. She keeled down in the grass next to him, looking across at the trees.
“Hello, young highness.” Her voice was light and airy, like a spring breeze.
He shape-shifted out of politeness, features blending back together into one humanoid form. He sat up, leaning forward on his hands. “Hello... Who are you?”
She smiled, her teeth as sharp as the rest of her. She smiled, and she almost seemed sad. “A friend, of sorts.”
Janus found himself frowning and tilted his head. “Of my dads?”
The question was waved away with a gentle hum and she looked at him, “Why are you out here all on your own, young prince?”
He shrugged, looking through the trees to where the castle peaked out through the wood. “It’s quiet.”
A slender pale hand reached forward and Janus flinched away on instinct. Scales crept up his face as he stared up at her, wide-eyed. She gently retracted her hand, and waved her hand in a dismissive way. “It is.” Her golden eyes looked up to the greyed sky. “I suggest you bring your father next time. He’ll enjoy some peace before the storm.”
Janus tilted his head, and moved to speak until a voice called him through the trees. “Janus!”
The woman smiled again at him. “Janus?” A small tug pulled sharply in his chest at that. Barely noticeable, but existent nonetheless. “He chose a lovely name for you.” She adjusted his cloak, patting his shoulder. “Remember to come back sometime with your father, Janus.”
“Janus?!” He looked back across the trees, searching for who was calling him. He looked back to the woman, only to find her gone. A small patch of mushrooms and moss left in her place. He couldn’t remember if they had always been there or not.
When he came back with his father in tow, he wasn’t sure what he expected. He felt like he was missing something.
-
The sky was clear when the people broke the gates. People that were loud and angry. With weapons. The noises only got louder. Crashes and bangs and yells.
Janus curled in on himself under the bed. Hidden in his father’s room, trying his hardest not to cry.
His father screamed his name, and he whimpered.
He pulled back the blankets and Janus felt more exposed than ever. His father smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes the way it normally did, something else tainted it. Tears streaked down his face. He laughed wetly, hand extended. “Come on Little Prince.” His expression faultered, and his voice dropped into something much more frantic. “Darling, we have to go.”
Dee shook his head, staring at his father. Ell stared at the door. He winced at each thunder of boots and voices.
His father’s voice cracked and doubled into a more draconian nature. “Please.”
Janus whimpered, curling into his father’s arms. His form quivered and blurred into a humanoid one. His father cooed praise and pleasantry into his ear as he hoisted him up. Janus clung to a fist full of fabric and hair. His father didn’t say anything about it. He just ran.
The halls blurred by. His father’s shape shifted into more and more draconic features. He ran, holding onto his son tight.
Janus watched people point weapons at them. He watched his father turn. Smacking a door open with his shoulder. He watched as he spun around the balcony. Watched him jump. Sky and brick falling away. Watched as massive leathery black wings pushed them forward. He wasn’t sure which form he was in anymore.
He watched his home grow farther and farther away as it burned.
-
Janus got better at seeming human over the years. He still wasn’t perfect. Scales still crept over his hands and neck. If one brushed a hand through his hair, one could still feel the buds of horns. He shoved on his gloves and a hat.
His father was still asleep. Janus leaned down, double checking his injury. He winced at the sickening hue of the wound, gently replacing the bandages. He kissed his father’s forehead as a hand caught Janus’s wrist.
“Leaving already, little prince?”
Janus smothered a painful feeling swirling in his chest, and smiled, nodding. “Someone has to take care of your mess of a face.”
His father let out a mock gasp of offense. “You wound me, my face is my greatest feature.”
Janus mimed a gag, smile softening. He swept a hand over his father’s sweaty forehead, brushing the stray hairs back. “Well, it better start looking even better.”
His father’s brows furrowed. “Keep safe out there, okay?”
“I always do. No one recognizes me anymore anyway.”
He hummed and closed his eyes, “No idea why. You look just like me at your age- although, you haven’t tried to grow a mustache.”
“Yeah... good thing I got your face, not your brains.”
His father just hummed. Janus sighed, standing up. With a fluid motion, he picked up his bag. “I’ll come back with medicine, okay? Rest, father.”
The walk to town was usually quiet. At the most, Janus would stop and collect edible vegetation, which he’d later barter or bring home. Most of the smarter animals learned to avoid the dragons. Most people hear enough rumors to avoid the forest altogether.
“Hello, young prince.”
Janus turned sharply, eyes wide. A familiar woman stepped out from the weave of trees. Features sharp and ageless, as before. He’s more familiar with the concept now. He can recognize a member of the fair folk now.
He glanced around, taking stock of how far they were from town. A million plans passing through his mind. He slipped on a smile, “Hello, pleasant to see you today.”
Her smile sharpened. She strolled closer, like creeping vines curling around a tree in a choking embrace. “Indeed. How fairs your father?”
Mismatched eyes scrutinize her for a moment. “He’s well.”
She hummed, and it somehow reminded Janus of his father. “You really must become better at lying, it’s a wonderful human trait.”
“I’m not a human.”
She leaned forward, and cupped his cheek. Janus stiffened at the contact of icy fingers. “You still have enough of it in you.” She smiled again, “I do think we have never properly introduced each other. May I have your name?”
“...Dee.” He flickered into a polite smile, amending his mistake a moment too late, “You’re welcome to call me Dee...”
She tilted her head, and tested the name on her tongue, “Dee?” His form shifts slightly, green scales speckling over half his face. His hat fell to the ground in favor of his horn shifting into it’s proper place. His eyes widen, and she smiled, patting his scaled cheek.
“Well, I can work with that.”
“What’s your name?” He blurted in a single breath.
Her eyes watched him for a moment, and she turned, walking along the path back to his makeshift home. “You may refer to me as Moss.” She opens her hand, palm up. Like a parent requesting their child to hold their hand to cross the street. “Will you be so kind to escort me to see your father, Dee?”
Janus took in a breath, “....Certainly.” He could tell she was smiling without even looking. He walks alongside her, fists curling into his side.
His father was asleep again when they returned. Janus skidded down to his side. He tugged his gloves off, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead. “Dad.” He looked at Moss. She watched them, a detached spark of interest found in the raise of an eyebrow. Janus bit the inside of his cheek. He shook his father’s shoulder roughly. “Dad, someone’s here to see you.”
His father groaned, and blearily looked up at him. “Who?”
“Um... She calls herself Moss.”
His father’s eyes widened and he turned his head to look at the fair folk. She stood over them, hands clasped behind her back. He tugged Janus against his chest, an arm braced around his son’s back.
“A pleasure to see you again, Dragon Witch.”
“The pleasure’s all mine.” His father practically hissed, fingers tightening in the fabric of Janus’s cloak.
She glided over to them on gentle footsteps. She keeled next to him, ice-pale hand hovering over his wounded side. “Are you ready to die, Dragon Witch?”
“It’s hardly-” His father hissed, straining to sit up. He fell back onto his back, panting. “... a scratch.”
Moss looked up at Janus, “He has a few days. At most.”
He looked down at his father. His eyes closed once more, brows knit in pain. Janus’s voice is hushed as he spoke. “N-no. No. I can’t- He’s all I have... All I’ve ever had.”
“How about we make a little agreement? I think I can heal him.” She hummed in thought. “You seem to have quite a few names, Dee. Surely you can give one more?”
Janus snapped his head toward her, “What?”
“I shall cure him of his wounds, and in exchange, I would like to have your name, preferably the beautiful one he gave you. It wouldn’t be so troubling, now would it? It’s just one of your names.”
He frowned, glancing at his father. His eyes still closed. Janus nodded. “Janus. It’s Janus, just heal him.”
She smiled, sharp and toothy, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Still such a lovely name.” Moss leaned down and gave his father an open-mouthed kiss. Janus crinkled his nose and looked away.
“There we are,” Moss muttered. Janus glanced over as his father’s eyes blinked open. His face still a hair’s breadth from Moss. Janus huffed and pulled his father away, checking him for evidence of injury and sickness.
“I’m okay, goodness.” His father laughed gently, pushing at Janus’s hands.
Moss watched the family for a moment, but by the time Janus looked back to her, she was gone.
-
Janus felt like someone was watching him. He had ever since Moss returned to his life. But now, with iron chains locked over his wrists, and a stone he will need to learn the name of around his neck, the feeling gained some merit.
“I told you, you need to get better at lying, Janus.”
He laughed sharply, and glared at her, “Great, how about you help me practice? Oh wait, you’re fair folk, and you can’t lie.”
She gingerly walked forward, eyeing the chain cautiously. She seemed more fae than before. Horns like branches covered in moss protruded from her skull, and it reminded him of his father. Janus hissed at her, wincing as his scales crawled up his face and began to burn, before receding.
“Children these days, so rude.” She plucked the crystal from where it lay around his neck. A rush of relief flooded him and he went limp as he caught his breath.
“What was that?”
“Ah, nothing too pressing,” She tucked the crystal into a pocket. “How about I help you?”
Janus glared at her. “How?”
“I simply want to help you be a better liar. You will certainly need it.” She said, looking around the cell.
“What do you want in return?”
“Oh, nothing much. Memories are so easy to come by anyway, I’d just like a few you could easily forget anyway.”
“You want... memories?” He tugged at the chain. Moss took a step back, smile still in place. He huffs. “Memories I’ve already forgotten?”
“In a sense. Perhaps a few you’ll forget in the future. I’m rather picky.” She waved her hand dismissively.
“Why do you want to help me? Why do you keep coming back?”
She leaned forward, “I never left, my little prince.”
“I’m not a prince.”
Moss grinned wider still, and kissed his cheek. “We’ll see about that, Dee.”
Dee.
Dee didn’t remember escaping. He remembered his father’s worried look, and he remembered going home to his father’s new ‘romance’ as he’d taken to calling her at times.
He doesn’t mention Moss.
Ell found it impossible to tell a full truth. Dee found it impossible to tell a direct lie. So they work around words like a fae would learn to.
His father called him Janus once. Dee couldn’t help but feel confused. It felt right, but it’s... not his.
He shook his head, “Dee. I’m Dee.”
His father smiled like he did when he was covering other emotions. He nodded “Dee... Right. Certainly.”
-
The worst thing was, Dee can’t remember how his father died. He was there. He knows he saw the massive draconian form shrink and return to a humanoid one. He can’t remember who did it. He didn’t have one person to blame. So he blames them all.
He couldn’t go back home. He couldn’t. Home was with his mother who he hadn’t had the bravery to call mom yet. With a little baby named Virgil who had yet to open his eyes. If he went home now, the humans who were after the Dragon Witch and his family will find them too. So no. He couldn’t go home. Instead, he hid in a cave and curled in on himself.
He felt so young and small and vulnerable. As if he was seven again and he’s hiding under a bed while a coup crashes outside. He sat there and blamed humanity. Blamed everyone.
He knew he was in a humanoid form, but he didn’t take stock of how small he was until Moss is by his side. She placed a hand on his back. She didn’t speak. She just rubbed circles into his back as he sobbed. He wanted to scream and bite and growl. But his body seemed to have a one track mind. So he just sobbed. Moss held him, acting only slightly surprised when he crawled into her lap. He lies when he says he’s okay. She just laughs sadly, and tells him he needs to get better at lying.