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Chapter Text

“Silver, my dear, do you need help?” Lilia waited patiently outside his son’s bedroom door, listening to the frequent ruffles of fabric and little huffs of frustration coming from the other side.

On his last trip outside the country, Lilia had picked up a human parenting book. According to that book, Silver was at the age where they started to show independence. So, when his son firmly told him he would dress himself on this occasion, well, who was Lilia to deny amusing the little human?

Except now they were quite late, and they still had to go into town to pick up supplies before meeting with Malleus at the castle. Oh, but he did so love helping Silver reach his human milestones.

“…I need help,” came the prolonged, muttered response.

Lilia entered the room only to laugh at the display before him. Silver was on the floor, both arms successfully through his inside-out unbuttoned shirt and pants halfway on but unzipped due to the high dexterity one needed to zip pants. His eyebrows were scrunched, looking quite disgruntled.

“You helpless child,” Lilia cooed with a smile and crouched to match their heights. “Let’s get you dressed properly.”

“I almost had it, Father,” his five year old said seriously as Lilia navigated his arms back through the shirt and quickly buttoned it through magic.

Lilia helped Silver stand to adjust his pants. “Of course you did,” Lilia hummed. “Only a few more tries, and I am sure you’ll be successful.” He smoothed out the formal shirt. “There. You look wonderful.”

Silver looked down at himself, wondering how exactly this shirt was any different than his pajamas, but chalked it up to his father’s quirks.

Lilia stood, and out of habit, scooped Silver up in his arms as well. “Come now, Silver. We have to go into town to pick up supplies for a potion Malleus needs, and then we’ll go visit the castle. Perhaps, if we have time, we can stop by the lake and feed the birds.”

Silver wrapped an arm around Lilia’s neck and looked gleefully in his father’s red eyes. “We get to feed the birds?”

“If we have time.”

Silver buried his face in Lilia’s shoulder just as they took flight. Lilia preferred to fly into town, especially on their time crunch. “We get to feed the birds,” Silver repeated sleepily, a smile tugging on his lips.

Lilia landed softly in town square. It wasn’t quite crowded at this time of day, however their presence still attracted attention. After all, Lilia was the former royal guard of the Queen, and in his retirement, he’d chosen to raise a human. The once vicious, unbeatable soldier who wore many war medals, now a father to a little human. Sometimes, Lilia was amused by the attention. Other times, he wished he still emitted that fearful reputation if only to protect Silver from lingering eyes.

“Silver, darling, wake up. I cannot carry you the entire time,” Lilia coaxed, shaking his son gently. “Come, to your feet now. Thank you.”

Silver made tiny sleep noises as he was set to his feet, one hand rubbing his eye to adjust to the sudden change in scenery. He grabbed Lilia’s hand as it was offered. “Shopping?” he yawned.

Lilia hummed. “Just for a few things. Might as well get a few items for our home too, no?” He began to walk quickly through the streets, tugging his son along but not noticing that his pace was a bit too fast for little human legs. Still, Silver was used to his father’s speed and worked hard to walk quickly next to him. “Some snakeskins…antidotes…perhaps some shoes for you…”

Their trip was mostly uneventful. Silver, as usual, had to be jostled every once in a while, when he inevitably fell asleep against his father while waiting in lines. They were greeted by some townspeople who knew Lilia in some way or another. Some even waved to Silver, who waved blankly back. A human cashier offered Silver a lollipop. Silver had looked to his father for permission, and Lilia, after eyeing the candy, nodded cheerfully in response.

It was when they needed to leave the trouble started.

“That was our last stop,” Lilia announced brightly. He magically delivered their goods away. “Oh my, we’re quite past our deadline. Let’s go quickly to the castle.”

Silver struggled to keep up with Lilia as they walked towards the edge of town. His legs, however, stumbled to a stop when they entered through the town’s large, and only, park. The lake glittered beautifully under the little sun their country allowed. “Father, wait,” he said anxiously.

Lilia stopped to look down at Silver. “What is it? Do you need the bathroom?”

Silver shook his head and pointed towards the lake. “You said we would stop and feed the birds.”

“No, darling, I said we would stop if we had time.” Lilia looked at the sky. “We are already late as it is. Come now, let’s go.” He grabbed Silver’s hand to continue their way, but to his astonishment, felt resistance. “Silver?”

“But,” Silver said again, eyes wide. “The birds.” He looked at all of the ducks and little birds that surrounded the lake. Somehow, he knew they were hungry. “Just a little?”

Lilia raised an eyebrow at this peculiar display of defiance. Far from angry, perhaps a little impatient, he was more interested in this new display of emotion within Silver. “I said no, Silver,” he said lightly. “Maybe next time.”

He held out his hand and tried to explain, “Shopping took more time than I had planned. We made a commitment to visit Malleus and feeding the birds will delay us further. It’s rude to be late, so how about we come back later?”

Now, Silver usually obeyed his father. In fact, other human parents would be absolutely bewildered at Silver’s adoration and obedience for Lilia at such a young age. But what Lilia didn’t realize was that he had forgotten to put Silver down for a nap today (he had started swords training in lieu of a nap), and those sparse times that Silver fell asleep throughout the day did not, in fact, make up for a well-rested nap for a human who seemed to need sleep so often. Silver was also hungry, the lollipop only delaying his usual post-lunch snack.

Most importantly, Lilia didn’t realize that saying “we can feed the birds if we have time” was essentially the same as “we will feed the birds” to a five year old.

And so, Lilia’s eyes widened when his son sat promptly on the paved path and started to cry, wailing something about the birds incoherently.

“Oh?” Lilia mused out loud. “Is this a human tantrum?”

He’d read all about human tantrums. Malleus had his fair share of mischievous acts and sulking, but on the rare days Malleus did throw a fit, there were usually flames or lightning involved. Malleus was also of royal blood, raised in the castle by not only Lilia, but his tutors and royal staff, who all taught him royal decorum. He knew to control his emotions quickly.

However, Silver was not of royal blood or fae, but a human raised safely in their cottage. And apparently, human tantrums consisted of just…wailing.

“Now, now, Silver,” Lilia said over Silver’s protests. “You can stop now. Do you really think this is how you can get your way?”

But Silver didn’t stop. What’s more was critters from around the land—squirrels, birds, ducks—were surrounding the distressed boy. This only attracted more attention from onlookers, who were whispering blatantly at their expense.

Lilia sighed and looked up at the sky to gauge the sun’s position. They were truly beyond late now. Soon, Malleus might just break free of the castle’s walls and go looking for them himself. He looked back at his crying son, perplexed at how to stop a human child that was so beyond reasoning. Eyes straying towards the lake, Lilia suddenly had an idea.

Striding forward, he shooed away the critters to scoop up the boy.

Then, with a few more steps, he dropped Silver into the lake.

Lilia knew the shores of the lake were shallow. He’d taken Silver to the lake many times to swim. The water barely reached waist level of his son. However, the sudden drop splashed water over Silver’s face and completely drenched him head to toe.

The wailing immediately stopped. Shocked, Silver splashed around as he got his bearings, his feet finding the sandy ground beneath the lake. Through wet hair, he looked up at Lilia, sputtering, “Father?!”

Well.

That worked wonderfully.

Lilia smiled in reply and fished Silver out, Silver’s small hands grasping desperately onto Lilia’s sleeves. He set him on the grass and, before the boy started shivering, used magic to dry his clothes. His silver hair, however, still dripped freshwater.

“You looked like you needed a swim,” Lilia said cheerfully.

Silver stared disbelievingly back.

“Now,” Lilia said, suddenly more serious. He used a hand to comb Silver’s hair back before resting it on the boy’s face. “I understand you wanted to feed the birds. I even understand that you misunderstood me when I said we could only feed the birds if we had time. However, I tried to explain to you that we are late for our commitment, and that feeding the birds at this time is not possible. Your frustration is understood, your reaction is not accepted. Please do better in the future to listen to me when I try to explain why you may not get what you want. Understand?” He lightly pinched his son’s cheek.

Silver bowed his head and sniffed. “Understood…I’m sorry, Father.”

“Forgiven,” Lilia said immediately with a bright smile. He leaned forward to smack a quick kiss to Silver’s forehead before picking him up. “Let’s go. It’s been a while since you’ve seen Malleus. Perhaps if you ask him nicely, he’ll allow you to feed the castle’s fish.”

“If Lord Malleus says yes, I can feed the fish,” Silver repeated, hugging Lilia around his neck.

Lilia nuzzled his cheek again his son. “Exactly.”

Chapter Text

Whenever Lilia went out foraging for food, whether it be hunting for meat or gathering herbs from their garden, Malleus would look after Silver in his absence. Silver had immediately taken to Malleus as an infant, to the fae’s bewilderment, and so Lilia felt comfortable leaving the two alone for hours at a time.

However, on this particular day, his concern spiked when he heard Silver’s cries growing louder as he approached their cottage. Malleus was surprisingly wonderful at soothing Silver. What could possibly be the source of this much distress?

“Lilia,” Malleus breathed, relieved at the sight of his guardian. In his arms was an extremely distressed toddler, whose face was red and runny. “There is something wrong with this child of man!” He thrust Silver towards Lilia and relinquished his hold on the child.

Immediately, Lilia could feel that Silver’s skin was far warmer than normal. The toddler’s nose was dripping, and with Lilia’s keen ears, he could hear the wheezing within the child’s lungs.

“Papa,” Silver said miserably, patting one hand against Lilia’s face.

“Oh dear,” Lilia tsked. He magically called for a towel and wiped gently at Silver’s tears. “He has a fever. He must have a cold.”

“A cold?” Malleus repeated doubtfully. He was hovering anxiously around them, wondering if he could use magic to will the problem away.

Lilia threw Malleus an amused look. “As rare as it is for us, we also get colds, though much different from human ones. I’m sure you don’t remember the last time you had one. I read somewhere that human children get colds much more often.”

“Of course they do,” Malleus muttered. He touched his chin while he tried to shuffle through his memory for any relevant information about human colds. With his limited experience, he had nothing to contribute. “What can we do?”

“Well…” Lilia looked at his son, who was now coughing lightly into Lilia’s chest. Truthfully, Lilia wasn’t sure. This was his son’s first cold, and Lilia had no experience with human children and sickness. How did his son even catch this cold? He only ever let his son wander the cottage and their garden.  Silver currently had an aversion to pants, so he let the child waddle around with nothing but a shirt and underwear during their winter, but that surely couldn’t be the cause. Oh, the mysteriousness and fragility of humans.

He did read the human book, and he didn’t think it was too different from when he had tended to Malleus when the prince was sick as a child. Nodding to himself, Lilia said, “He needs rest. And a cold towel for his fever. And…medicine.”

“Medicine?”

“Yes! Do you remember the medicine I made for you all those years ago?”

Malleus stared back blankly, trying to remember, when suddenly his face morphed into disbelief and horror. “That can’t possibly be for humans, Lilia! It was inedible as it was for me.”

Lilia propped his child up with one arm before spinning around to prop his hip against his other hand. He pinned Malleus with a glare. “Excuse me? I made it perfectly balanced with the proper vitamins and antidotes. You felt loads better after eating it.”

“Because I wanted to avoid another dose,” Malleus muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“…It’s a good idea, Lilia.”

The father narrowed his eyes, realizing his charge was growing ever so cheeky. Must have been the royal tutors’ teachings.

Silver coughed again, his entire body shaking with each cough. Lilia immediately cooed, rubbing a soothing hand across Silver’s back to calm his lungs. The warmth of his skin was concerning. “Let’s go put you to rest, little love,” Lilia hummed. He headed towards their room. “And after, I can go gather the necessary ingredients, and perhaps you will be more grateful for the medicine I will brew.”

“Lilia…”

“I seek no contribution from cheeky children of mine.”

“I understand, but Lilia…”

“Yes, Malleus?”

“I believe Silver has vomited.” Malleus stared at the spit up that was now over Lilia’s back and floor.

“Oh, dear.”

Malleus entered the cottage quietly in the early morning. His grandmother once more had allowed him out, with a guard escorting him to the forest, to visit Lilia and Silver, who was still sick with fever. He’d been reluctant to leave the night before, but Lilia had been firm in sending him home. How could he stay away, however, when their treasured child of man was sick?

It was perplexing to witness human illness. He hadn’t expected to feel so helpless witnessing the cycle of a human cold, unable to magic it away. Looking at Lilia’s pinched face and wrung hands after Silver’s fever refused to defuse even after the cold towel and medicine, he knew Lilia felt the same way.

He felt magic in the air when he entered the cottage. One look around the cottage, and he understood why. There was a fire fueled by magic burning in the pit, and every candlestick available was also lit by magic. A pot on the stove was bubbling with a strange liquid, being magically stirred every few seconds.

Malleus padded across the floor and entered Silver’s nursery, sensing Lilia inside as well.

“Lilia?” he called softly. The room was modest, the bare necessities for a small child, but that was a usual sight in the country of Thorn Valley. It was much warmer than it was in the common space, despite no fire burning inside the room, so Lilia must have used magic to keep the room warm. This much simultaneous magic was hard to control for the average person, however for Lilia and himself, it was barely an ounce to their deep reservoir of power.   

His eyes wandered over to Lilia’s form, hunched over a small bed. Lilia sat on a low chair, his head rested against one arm on the bed, while another lightly touched Silver’s wrist as a way to monitor movement. The little toddler was smothered with blankets, sleeping fitfully with a towel over his forehead. From the door, Malleus could see the human’s cheeks were rosy.

When Malleus took one step closer to the two, Lilia shot up, alert. Red, narrowed eyes pinned him in his place, temporarily glazed with warning and a touch of the wild. Magic suddenly surged in the room and made the air staticky to his skin.

Then, in the next moment, Lilia’s shoulders relaxed, his eyes became warm, and the magic willed away. “Malleus,” Lilia greeted with a hint of smile.

Malleus never forgot Lilia was once the most feared general in the Valley of Thorns, but it always took him by surprise by how quickly that version of Lilia could come back. It seemed the little child of man they took in brought out every side of them.

“Malleus, did the Queen allow this visit?” Lilia asked with reprimand in his voice.

Malleus inclined his head. “Grandmother allowed me reprieve from my responsibilities this morning.” He stepped closer to peer at the sleeping child. “How is he?”

Lilia turned his gaze to Silver, expression visibly softening. “His fever just broke an hour ago, thankfully.” He used a towel to dab at any remaining sweat on the boy’s face. “Ah, who knew human children were so helpless? To carry on so long for a mere sickness…”

“Then…that’s a good sign?” Malleus pressed. “He will get better?”

“I believe so,” Lilia muttered. “That’s what those books say.” He waved towards the corner of the room. Malleus followed his direction and blinked at the stack of books strewn about in the corner. “The Zigvolt family actually stopped by shortly after you left. The father of their little half-human child, if you remember, is human. He offered some human medicine.” He nodded towards the nightstand where a bottle of mysterious liquid sat.

“Hmm.” Malleus touched his chin in thought. Then they’d have to be rewarded, perhaps he’ll ask his grandmother to send a chest of gems to the family.

A muted noise coming from the bed snapped both of their attention back to Silver. The toddler huffed as he came from sleep, his eyes squeezed together before they rapidly blinked open. His weak hand reached up to grasp at the towel on his forehead. Silver huffed again, flinging off the towel, before he blearily turned his head towards Lilia. “Papa?” he whispered; voice hoarse. He used his other hand to reach towards his father.

“Oh, Silver,” Lilia breathed. He used a shaking hand to touch Silver’s cheek lightly, feeling for temperature. His lips trembled for a moment before they broke into a wide smile. Lilia leaned over to envelop Silver into an embrace, arms wrapped gently but firmly around the small body and face nuzzled into the silver tresses. He took a visibly shuddering breath. “You’ll be okay,” Lilia murmured, a statement for himself. He rubbed a hand down his child’s back. “You’re okay.”

Silver was confused. His throat felt awful, and he wanted to go back to sleep. But he was also very happy for his father’s attention, so he giggled and tried his best to return the hug from his position.

Malleus watched the scene with intrigue. Growing up, Lilia had been a wonderful guardian. He’d taken measures every step of the way to ensure Malleus grew up to be a responsible, happy prince. Many times, Lilia offered comfort and wisdom in place of his parents.

However, even as a child he understood Lilia was lonely. The wars between humans and fae weighed heavily on Lilia’s shoulders, and both the Queen and Malleus worried that soon the weight would be too heavy. He often caught Lilia staring blankly ahead after thinking he’d sung Malleus to sleep, mind far away from the moment’s present. As a child, he’d wanted Lilia to bring him to wherever his mind would wander, if only to accompany his guardian.

When Lilia brought forth a human infant before their Queen and him, Malleus had been doubtful. Fae? Raise a human child? Sure, times of peace had long been established, but tensions between human and fae still existed. In addition, what did any of them know of the physiological and emotional needs of raising a human? But Lilia had almost looked desperate, clutching the calm, sleeping baby in his arms, and Malleus soon understood. Lilia wanted to grow his family. He had found a purpose; a being to channel his history into something good and pure.

It wasn’t long before Lilia grew to love the child.

Looking at the scene before him now, this giggling, vulnerable child in the arms of the once most feared general in the Valley of Thorns, Malleus couldn’t help but feel grateful and relieved. This child of man has brought lightness into Lilia’s life. He came with surprises and mysteries far beyond the faes’ knowledge, but irrefutably a bright future as well. And as he moved forward to rest a hand on Silver’s head, Malleus realized another thing.

He loved this child, too.

Chapter Text

It started as a splendid day.

Lilia lounged in a chair outside their cottage, body languid, chin resting on an open palm with a rather thick, historical book in his lap. Malleus—who had come to visit—mirrored him on his opposite side. Out of boredom, the prince held his book out in front of him with magic, flipping through the pages idly with the flick of his finger. It was a considered a nice day in the Valley of Thorns, sun hidden by thick clouds but the air warm enough to spend their day outside.

Several hundred yards away, Silver and Sebek were playing. Despite the distance, Malleus and Lilia could still hear and watch them with ease. The boys originally practiced their training exercises together, but soon grew bored and started a game of tag. Lilia refrained from reprimanding them and let the children play.

Out of respect, Lilia tried not to listen to their conversations. Occasionally, one of them would say something humorous that would filter through, and Lilia and Malleus would glance at each other in amusement. However, it became increasingly difficult to tune them out when both boys’ voices grew in volume, and soon, he paid full attention to their conversation when he heard Silver snarl, “Take back your words!”

Lilia looked out towards the field, his eyes easily picking out the two children near the edge of the forest. Silver’s face was twisted in anger, which surprised Lilia, as the boy rarely, if ever, got truly angry. Sebek’s expression copied Silver’s, though his raised eyebrows showed a hint of confusion for his friend’s anger.

“I was speaking the truth!” Sebek argued. “You are fully human. I was just pointing out your limitations.”

“Being human doesn’t make me any less capable of becoming Lord Malleus’ knight,” Silver snapped. He bent down to scoop mud into his hands, and despite Sebek’s vocal warning, flung it straight to Sebek’s chest. “You’re being a jerk. Stop acting like you’re not human, too!”

“Half!” Sebek barked. He pulled his soiled shirt away from him. “How dare you! Lord Malleus gifted me this shirt.” Scooping his own ball of mud, he chucked it at Silver’s face. “You humans are the ones who’re jerks! How am I wrong that you’ll never surpass Master Lilia as Lord Malleus’ knight? It’s impossible for a human!”

By now, Malleus was also paying attention to their argument. His green eyes were narrowed in annoyance. Lilia debated simply observing and letting the children resolve the childish spat on their own. It was healthy for children to learn to solve their own problems. Unfortunately, he watched their conflict escalate. It started with throws of mud to multiple shoves to increasingly vicious words.

It came to a head when, after Silver spat something about Sebek’s father, Sebek retorted spitefully, “You’ll be dead before Lord Malleus can even assume the throne!”

That’s enough, Lilia thought, setting his book aside. He watched Silver recoil from the words. The boy’s eyes watered for a quick moment before they squinted out of fury, dilated pupils overtaking his purple irises.

Lilia’s watched many brawls throughout his life. He knew the instant Silver shifted his stance and tensed his muscles that the mood had changed. Unrestrained magic suddenly surged across the field, coming from both boys as they prepared for battle. Sebek’s hand twitched at the hilt of his training sword. Within the next few seconds, Lilia knew that what was once a childish argument would soon turn into an injurious one.

“Oh, dear,” Lilia mused, standing from his chair. “Malleus, come assist me, please.”

Malleus did a silent sigh through his nose and stood as well. The two teleported instantly towards the edge of the forest. Silver and Sebek were so concentrated on each other that they didn’t notice either of them until it was too late.

“Ah-ah!” Lilia exclaimed, one hand wrapped around Silver’s small wrist and another arm around his waist. He dragged Silver back just as the boy was about to throw a punch powered by magic.

Malleus similarly picked Sebek up by the scruff of his collar. Sebek went airborne as the youth protested and dropped the hold on his sword. “That’s enough,” Malleus said sharply.

“Father?!”

“Lord Malleus!”

Like magic, the fight drained out from the boys. Sebek went limp in Malleus’ hold while Silver went to stand on his own, rather than slumped against Lilia’s body.  Their heads dropped simultaneously, gazes pinned to the ground instead of on the two adults. 

Well, Lilia considered, observing his pupils’ hunched shoulders and averted gazes. At least they have the decency to feel shame.

“We’re all a little overwhelmed, aren’t we?” Lilia asked lightly. “Why don’t we separate, take some deep breaths, and, if appropriate, come back together, hm?”

“I agree,” Malleus said, shaking the still airborne Sebek in his hand. Sebek was heavily pouting and obviously near tears. “Come, Sebek. Let’s have a chat on why we should not say cruel words to our friends.”

They walked in the opposite direction, away from the scene, leaving father and son alone on the field. Lilia looked down at Silver, who was scuffing his shoe into the grass, his lips downturned into a frown. His clothes and face were covered in streaks of mud.

Lilia used magic to vanish most of the mud from Silver’s face and then took out a clean handkerchief. He bent down on one knee, using one finger to lift his son’s face up, and gently wiped the rest of the mud away from Silver’s neck. He could have used magic to get rid of all of the mud, but he figured it would be good exercise to have both boys handwash their clothes on their own later.

“Are you okay?” Lilia asked, wiping the last of the mud away from Silver’s chin. His son had been silent the entire time, making sure to avoid eye contact with him.

“…Yeah,” the small boy said quietly.

Lilia smiled and pinched the boy’s face to smack a kiss on Silver’s clean forehead. “Let’s go visit the river. It’s a clear day to see the fish.”

That was how they ended up sitting side by side on an old log by the river, watching the river flow lazily by in front of them. Silver was silent, palms curled into fists and occasionally digging a hole in the dirt with the scruff of his shoe. This was fine by Lilia, who sat with his arm on his leg, chin resting on his palm. As time passed, a gentle breeze danced through their hair and a mischievous fish leapt from the water and slowly, Silver’s shoulders relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” Silver eventually said in a small voice.

Lilia acknowledged the boy with a side glance and a raised eyebrow. “Hmm, if you’re apologizing, can you tell me what wrong you’re acknowledging?”

Silver didn’t answer. Lilia had to suppress an amused grin. As I suspected, he thought, observing his son. “You believe your actions were justified, considering Sebek’s words,” Lilia said, not as a question but as a fact. Silver shrugged. “Well, that’s fair enough. Sebek was unkind.”

Silver snuck a glance at him, quickly as if to judge whether Lilia was mad or not. When he found no trace of anger or disappointment on Lilia’s face, he looked down at his shoes again and nodded. A few moments later, he spoke. “…Is it true?” Silver mumbled.

“Is what true, my dear?”

“That I’ll die before Lord Malleus becomes king.”

Lilia turned his gaze back to the river, pondering the question. The Queen had said many times before that she would soon pass the crown to Malleus. However, “soon” in fae years could mean more than a human’s lifetime. Was Malleus prepared to assume the throne in the next few years? Possibly. It was hard to tell, and he knew Malleus wasn’t keen on taking the title just yet.  

“I’m not sure,” Lilia said honestly. “It’s definitely a possibility.” Turning his gaze back to his son, Lilia’s expression softened at Silver’s watery eyes. “Silver, it’s not something you should worry about yet.” He grabbed the small boy, settling him on his lap. One hand carded easily through his silver locks. Silver in turn buried his face in his father’s neck. “You are a human with strong magical abilities. Death for you is far from now. You’ll live a long life, and during that time, you will become the finest knight the Valley will ever see. Don’t become distraught over the far future. You are my son, which means you’ll surpass our standards, even as a human.”

Lilia leaned back to tilt Silver’s face up, smiling at the red cheeks and wide eyes. “What was it you just said not so long ago?” Lilia asked. “‘Being human doesn’t make me any less capable?' My, are those words only true when spoken in anger?” He tapped one finger against Silver’s nose.

Silver gave a weak giggle, shaking his head. Then he sobered. With one free hand, he rubbed roughly over one eye. “I’m sorry I tried to hit Sebek…and threw mud at him,” Silver clarified once more. “I guess I should’ve controlled my emotions better.” He sniffed. “Are you gonna make me apologize to him?”

“Make you? Of course not,” Lilia laughed. “I will leave that up to you. You should only apologize to Sebek if you mean your apology.” He wiped away a remaining tear on his son’s cheek and then said, “Sebek said very cruel things to you. And while you did insult his family in return, you reserve the right to reject his apology--if he apologizes to you. But, I do want you to remember that Sebek is a cherished friend, and forgiveness is a worthy trait to have.”

Silver pursed his lips, considering the words. “I’ll apologize if he apologizes, and I’ll accept his apology after,” he decided.

Lilia’s eyes twinkled in return. “A wise decision.”

“I love you, Father,” Silver said abruptly, springing his arms around Lilia’s neck. “I hope I get to stay with you for a long time.”

Heartened by the words, Lilia’s response was to hold his son back tightly, voice too thick to respond otherwise. For the both of them, however, it was enough.

Later, Sebek did come back, with Malleus in tow. The boy’s eyes were red, and he was holding onto Malleus’ robe very tightly. They approached Silver and Lilia, who were giggling together outside their cottage at a campfire they made. By the time Sebek and Malleus reached them, their laughter stopped, and Silver turned cautious.

The children stared at each other for several moments, each shuffling in their own way. Malleus and Lilia stepped aside, waiting to see what would happen. Suddenly, Sebek charged forward first, tackling Silver into a strong hug.

“I’m so-o-o-r-rry!” he cried loudly. “I shouldn’t have said those things! You’re super strong, Silver, and I was just jealous, I’m sorry! I was a jerk!”

Silver winced. “Sebek, you’re shouting in my ear,” he huffed. Sebek replied with a large sniff, but didn’t let go. Silver sighed and with a small giggle, hugged his friend back. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too.”

Malleus and Lilia watched the scene with amusement. Children were such odd creatures.

“I have to say, Lilia,” Malleus said casually, eyeing his guardian. “Your parenting skills have grown soft.”

“Hm? Why do you say that?” Lilia raised an eyebrow with his hands on his hips.

“Well,” Malleus put a finger on his chin. “I recall when I got into a brawl with one of the princes from a neighboring country, you had me run the mountains from sunrise to sundown. I was also forced to attend a month long of extra lessons on the topics of etiquette and diplomacy.” Malleus grimaced at the memory.

Lilia laughed. “Oh, dear Malleus, that was completely different.”

“How so?”

“You were a much bigger brat than any other child I have ever come across.” With another loud laugh, Lilia walked to join the two children in roasting marshmallows, leaving a dumbfounded, open-mouthed prince behind.

Chapter Text

Lilia had to admit: while he enjoyed his son’s current stage of life—the preteen years as the books mention—he quite missed when Silver was just a joyful toddler. Now his son was slowly growing taller than him (well, while Lilia was in this form at least), and apparently, preteen years came with many surprises.

And emotions.

Lilia never imagined when he took on parenting that he’d be the type of parent to anxiously flutter around the cottage, waiting for his son to return to him. This type of anxiety was new to him. With Malleus, even as a child his power far exceeded the adults around him, so Lilia was never too concerned for Malleus’ safety within the confines of the castle.

But Silver was human. Yes, Lilia had been training him well. His twelve year old son can now spar with the recruits at the castle, but Lilia knew from his long-lived life that there were far greater dangers out there than baby faced recruits eager to join their military. There were water nymphs in the river that were just hoping for the opportunity to entice Silver. Perhaps a Boggart waiting to ambush his son. Either way, Lilia didn’t like that he’s all but resorted to fretting alone whenever Silver decided to wander on his adventures.

It was also raining. Lilia never paid much attention to the weather before Silver, only took note of outdoor conditions in the context of war. During peacetime, weather was negligible. But for humans, weather could be omens for disaster. A mere rainstorm could lead to a fever for Silver, or worse, a deadly disease called “pneumonia” like the Zigvolt family mentioned! And his son was out in this weather? Helplessly succumbing to the elements?

“If he’s not home by the time the first star is out, I will make him teach Malleus how to use a computer this weekend as punishment,” Lilia snarled under his breath. He dragged his sword over the whetstone, finding comfort in the scrape of the metal. Lilia never used his personal swords in any other context than training nowadays, but old habits insisted he kept his weapons sharp. Perhaps one day, they will be passed down to Silver.

Just as Lilia finished resharpening his sword, the cottage door blew open, and a damp Silver stepped through the threshold. His hair was mussed, and his clothes needed washing, but otherwise the boy looked healthy.

Lilia forced himself still, watching as Silver stripped his winter coat off and hung it on their coat rack.

“I’m home, Father,” Silver called.

“Oh?” Lilia kept his tone playful. He stood from his chair to grab a clean towel from the kitchen. “And where have you been wandering about? Did I not mention that it would rain soon after sunset?”

Silver shrugged. “Sebek and I sparred for awhile, but he had to go home. So I went to the river to practice my magic and skip stones, but I fell asleep. I’m sorry I’m late.”

Lilia clicked his tongue. He waved a hand to start their fire going before approaching his son with the towel. “I understand your need to…explore and have fun as children do, but I’ve told you more than once to be more aware of your surroundings. Did you fall asleep by the river? What if nymphs had gotten you?” Before Silver could protest, Lilia dropped the towel over Silver’s damp head and started rubbing the strands dry. “And you know I don’t mind you staying out late within the boundaries I have given you, but goodness, Silver, it’s raining. Don’t you remember the last time you were ill?”

“Father—”

Lilia continued his vigorous rubbing with the towel. “Not only that, why in the world are you only dressed in a coat? I believe temperatures are currently below human compatibility, which means I should at least be seeing a scarf, a hat, and layers. Where is your hat? Malleus gifted you a wonderful one just a month ago—”

“Father!” Silver exclaimed with exasperation, grasping both of Lilia’s busy hands to step out from under the towel. His hair, mussed as it was before, was now a tangled mess. With his eyebrows scrunched, Silver’s lips were pursed in a disgruntled pout. “Father, please. I’m not a child anymore. You have to stop treating me like one.”

Lilia’s jaw went slack at the declaration. Silver had never uttered a similar protest before. Not…not a child? That wasn’t possible. His son just reached twelve years. Malleus still lived in the nursery at twelve years. How could he possibly see Silver as not a child when Malleus, at centuries old, still felt like a whelp to him?

“Well,” Lilia managed to say, folding the damp towel in his hands. “You certainly look and sound like a child, Silver.”

Silver huffed. “Well, I’m not. I can take care of myself.”

“You—” Lilia blinked. He stepped back to throw an incredulous look at the child. “What is that on your shoulder?”

“Huh?” Silver glanced at his shoulder. His shoulder, where a small, yellow bird rested happily. “Oh, on the way home, he came to me and told me that he was too tired to find shelter in the rain, so I offered to take him home with me.”

“The bird was too tired to find shelter, so you offered it our home,” Lilia repeated in a daze. “And where is this little bird’s…flock?”

Silver stared at the bird, and the bird chirped back sharply. He turned his attention back to Lilia. “He said it’s none of your business.”

“None of my--?!”

“I’m going to my room,” Silver added, spinning around with the bird. “I’ll come out for dinner. Do not make anything weird for dinner, Father!” The door slammed closed.

Lilia staggered back to his chair, suddenly feeling older and more exhausted than he had ever felt before in his centuries of living. What had just happened? Was that entire ordeal a preteen mood?

He didn't think even Malleus’ moods as a teenager could match the dooms of preteen humans…And how had he managed to raise two brazen children?

“Father, I was wondering, for that maneuver you taught me today, if you co—uld--!” A sharp crack of the voice in the middle of the sentence. Shrill at the end and terribly distorted.

Lilia’s head shot up in alarm. He scanned Silver quickly for injuries, before demanding, “What was that?”

Silver’s cheeks were pink. His shoulders hunched. “Noth—ing!” his voice cracked again, sounding like a disjointed robot.

“It is not nothing!” Lilia dropped the letters he had in his hand to stride forward and pinch his son’s chin. “Open your mouth so that I may peer into your vocal cords. You must have damaged them somehow.”

“No, Father! It’s not that. It’s—it’s puberty!”

Silence. Father and son, fae and human, stared at each other. Silver’s face was the brightest shade of red, enough to put the richest apples from the Village of Harvest to shame. Lilia would have taken the chance to comment how adorable his son looked if he hadn’t felt so speechless.

“It’s what?” Lilia finally asked, Silver’s face still in hand.

“That’s—that’s what Sebek’s father said, anyways,” Silver mumbled. “I was at their house earlier today, and he said my voice would be changing soon. ‘It’s about that time for a human boy’…is what he said.” He twisted out of his father’s grip but kept his gaze towards the floor. “Surely Lord Malleus went through the same thing?”

Lilia, still processing the new information, put a finger against his chin in thought. “No, our voices naturally deepen without ailment. No books told me about this human ailment,” Lilia muttered to himself. Then, suddenly, Lilia surged forward to grip Silver’s shoulders and cried, “Silver! Why did you allow Sebek’s father to have the ‘talk’ with you! You’ve robbed me of my precious duty as your father. I was looking forward to fulfill the fascinating human tradition of ‘the talk’!” He lowered his head dramatically, actually disappointed that Sebek’s cursed father had beat him to discussing puberty with his son.

Silver breathed deeply through his nose, as if trying to control his emotions. “Father, please,” he sighed. He grasped Lilia’s hands with his own. “It’s safe to say that I would ra—ther—” Silver cleared his throat. “—have Sebek stab me with his weapon than have any kind of talk, whatever it is you’re talking about, with you. Isn’t it more efficient to have Sebek’s father explain some things anyway, since you and Lord Malleus are not human?”

“Well, yes,” Lilia said reluctantly. A strange version of envy and disappointment filled him. “But—”

“And you’ve already fulfilled all the important duties as my father,” Silver said seriously, squeezing Lilia’s hands. “You’re raising me, aren’t you? Into a knight and…into a man Lord Malleus and you would be proud of.” He said this with no shame, his light colored eyes staring earnestly into Lilia’s red ones.

Lilia felt his throat close at the words. He reached both hands to cup Silver’s face, noting that it wouldn’t be long before Silver surpassed him in height. His thumb stroked gently at Silver’s cheek. Ah...the time and its flow.

“Mm,” Lilia confirmed, eyes curving with a warm smile on his lips. “And what a fine young man you’ve grown to be. Pride goes beyond what we feel for you.”

The smile Silver gave in return made all of those years of hardship in Lilia’s long, long life worth it.

Chapter Text

His son was avoiding him.

In all honesty, Lilia found it amusing. In the last few days, every time he approached Silver in the hallways of Night Raven College or sat at their usual lunch table. Silver would jump and mumble some excuse before leaving. Lilia sensed no distress nor ill will from the boy; so, he wasn’t too concerned, but he was curious. Perhaps a new level of keeping up their charade as classmates?

He could have sworn that the last he saw his son, Silver was headed towards the direction of Ignihyde’s dorms…but that couldn’t be true.

Lilia figured whatever it was, Silver would eventually come to him and talk. For now, he’d observe, entertained by how far his son went to avoid being in the same room as him.

Malleus brought the subject up later. They were walking to their next class; Lilia enjoyed the busyness of the halls, and the way students would scatter at the sight of Malleus. The decision to join NRC was a good one. Malleus was exposed to human behavior, Silver and Sebek could hone their magic skills and it was endless entertainment for Lilia.

“Have you noticed Silver has been avoiding your presence?” Malleus asked, eyebrows furrowed. “I wonder why?”

“I’ve noticed, yes,” Lilia said, pulling up the sleeves of his uniform. They turned a sharp corner, and an unsuspecting Heartslabyul freshman yelped and dove out of the way. Lilia gave him a friendly smile, but—oh dear, the poor boy fainted.

“And you won’t press the matter?”

Lilia shrugged. “Not at the moment,” he said. “Perhaps I will if it continues for another week. Silver is a good child. He’ll come when he’s ready.”

Malleus considered the words. He nodded to himself eventually, finding the solution acceptable.

“LORD MALLEUS, PLEASE ALLOW ME TO ESCORT YOU THE REST OF THE WAY TO YOUR CLASSES!”

Lilia winced. “Sebek, please,” he sighed, addressing the tall freshman whose loud voice effectively emptied the hallway. “Lower your voice.”

“I apologize, Master Lilia!” Sebek exclaimed, much quieter. “But please allow me to escort both of you to your next class!”

Malleus and Lilia agreed (did they have any other choice?) and the three resumed walking to the third years’ class.

“Did you see Silver in your class today?” Lilia asked Sebek.

Sebek scoffed. “He left just after class ended. I told him he should help escort both you and Lord Malleus, but he said he had prior plans. I think I saw him leave with Ortho!”

Ortho? Lilia thought. How interesting.

He stepped inside the classroom but turned around. “You don’t have to wait for our class to end, Sebek,” Lilia said when Sebek didn’t move from their classroom’s threshold. “Go on back to the dorms.”

“I will wait here for Lord Malleus and you!” Sebek shouted. “Please allow me the honor!”

Lilia winced. Ah, to be young…

By the end of the week, Lilia found himself enjoying a splendid Sunday afternoon: cloudy skies, warm breeze and pleasant temperatures. Odd for the month of June, but Lilia—who disliked the sun—was not going to complain.

The students were more excitable today, though Lilia didn’t know why. With his sharp hearing, he occasionally heard the passing of student conversations around campus. Mumblings about family and I’ll call my dad tonight and maybe I’ll visit home today. Lilia smiled to himself while he picked out his book for the day; something about this weekend had the humans sentimental.

He decided to spend his afternoon quietly, reading by his dorm window. Malleus was probably busy signing permission slips for students. Lilia should help him as vice warden. But he felt so very old today, and Malleus was so very young.

Just as he settled into his armchair, a soft knock rapped on his door. Lilia knew only three people who would dare knock on the vice housewarden’s door.

“Come in,” he called.

Silver gently opened the door and stepped inside the room. Lilia raised an eyebrow. It’s been almost a week since Silver started avoiding him. Lilia planned to give it one more day before approaching Silver himself, but it seemed he was correct in waiting.

Lilia greeted, “Good afternoon, Silver.”

“Father,” Silver returned softly. He’d closed the door, giving them space to drop their silly charades. He was dressed in his dorm uniform but had taken a more casual look with no jacket and loose collar. His face was impassive. Having raised him, however, Lilia could see a glimmer in his eyes. “If you’re not too busy, would you please join me today?”

“Hmm?” Lilia set aside his book and approached his son. “Of course, Silver. But join you for what?”

Silver’s calm façade broke a little, feet shuffling as he gathered his courage. “Well, I was hoping you’d join me in the kitchen today.” At Lilia’s combined surprised and eager look, Silver interjected quickly, “Not to cook! I mean, not for you to cook, Father. I want to cook. For you. I want to prepare a meal for you, and we could eat it together?”

Curiouser and curiouser, Lilia pondered. It wasn’t his birthday, nor was it any major holiday, as far as he knew. But any time spent with his son was a cherished time, so if Silver wanted to spend time with him on a mundane Sunday afternoon, then he wasn’t going to question it.

“That sounds wonderful, Silver. Though I’d say you’re missing out on my amazing recipes,” Lilia grinned. He looked down at his matching black silk pajamas. “Should I change?”

Silver gave him that soft smile that was always touched with exasperation and fondness. “No, most of the students are out today. I’ve reserved the kitchen for our use only.”

“Well then, let’s go!” Lilia said and reached up to affectionately pat Silver’s cheek. “Now that you mention it, I am hungry.”

The Diasomnia Dorm’s kitchen wasn’t that far of a walk from Lilia’s room. Silver was right—there weren’t that many students out. Lilia saw Sebek briefly, but strangely the usual eager freshman only waved and ducked out of sight. Malleus too, though busy signing permission slips, only nodded at the two in greeting. Thus, their walk to the kitchen was mostly uninterrupted.

Lilia knew it had something to do with Silver. He thought it was touching Silver had asked for privacy to spend time with little, old him on a mundane Sunday.

“Please, Father,” Silver begged as soon as they were alone in the kitchen. The kitchen island already had a variety of ingredients out, purposefully prepared for an intended dish. He peeked over Silver’s shoulder to look at the rest of the ingredients even as Silver pushed him gently to a chair off to the side. “Sit here and do not do anything. I will handle the cooking today.”

Lilia narrowed his eyes at the sudden cheekiness. “What if I have suggestions for your dish?”

“No.”

“What if—”

“Father, no.”

“And if—”

“Just sit and relax.”

“My,” Lilia pouted. He rested his cheek against his fist. “You’re certainly an audacious child today.”

“I’m trying to cook for you,” Silver sighed. With one last warning look aimed at Lilia, he stepped away to the counter. “What you can do is talk to me while I cook so that I don’t fall asleep.”

Lilia watched as his son adjust his chef hat—how adorable—and tie an apron around his waist. Brandishing a knife, Silver began cutting the vegetables. The motions were choppy and not the actions of a professional, and the vegetable pieces were terribly uneven, but Lilia didn’t care. The look of the dish never mattered to him.

“How are your studies?” Lilia asked as he watched Silver cut into a head of lettuce. “You’re doing well, I presume?”

“Yes, they’re going well,” Silver replied. “I found something interesting in my history class the other day, though.”

“Oh?” Lilia slouched deeper in his chair, one side of his mouth quirking up.

Silver nodded with an inscrutable expression. “Yes, we were going through the time periods of human conflict. In one particular era, we talked about a certain fae General who turned the tide of a battle. This was of course several hundred years ago, but our textbook has a sketch based on the people’s stories of this General.” Silver flicked his eyes over to his father, who only stretched his legs and offered a wider smile. “Do you know anything about this General, Father?”

Lilia hummed. He tucked an errant hair behind his ear, returning his son’s mischievous gaze back. “Well, I’m not quite sure, Silver. Did the sketch reveal a young, adorable, handsome man?”

“No, I believe the sketch revealed a forgetful, odd, eccentric old man.”

“Then I couldn’t possibly know him.”

Silver and Lilia stared at each other for a few minutes, both faces pursed in seriousness, before they burst into laughter together.

The rest of their time spent in the kitchen passed comfortably. Lilia enjoyed chattering endlessly with his son, who only grew sleepy once when he had to wait for the broth to boil. Halfway, Lilia realized Silver was making some type of stew. Twice, he tried to interject and offer his wisdom for the dish, but twice, his errant child sent him a glare and a warning.

Well. Lilia supposed it would turn out delicious anyway.

“It’s almost done cooking. Father, can you grab the dishes?” Silver asked. He nodded towards the two, prepared bowls next to him.

 “Of course.” Lilia hopped off the chair and grabbed the two bowls. He set them on the small table that was usually reserved for taste testing or in-between breaks for the ghost chefs. He also magically dressed the table with an elegant, dark green table cover, summoned spoons and matching napkins, and grabbed two glasses from the cabinet. With a snap of his fingers, the glasses filled with tomato juice and water.

Silver came around with the heavy, metal pot. He took one look at the table and then back up to Lilia with a look. “Father, that wasn’t necessary.”

Lilia smiled. “You’ve been so mysterious lately, so I couldn’t possibly know the occasion. What’s wrong with a nice, set table?”

“I have not been mysterious,” Silver replied. He carefully ladled the bubbling stew into the two bowls and then set the pot aside. “Okay, it’s done.”

The two took a seat at the table with Lilia making a show of smelling the stew deeply. “My, thank you for the meal,” Lilia said happily. “It smells wonderful.”

Silver offered a smile. “The ghosts taught me this dish. They wanted me to use that electric cooker…but I insisted on learning the traditional way."

Lilia took the first bite, not minding how the steaming stew should have scalded his mouth (but didn’t). Unlike the first time Silver tried to make stew as a child, the stew was extremely flavorful; the spices blended together, the vegetables melted in his mouth, and the meat broke apart easily. It was spicy, but just enough to give the dish the acidity it needed. Perhaps he was biased because Silver cooked the meal, but Lilia would later claim over the years that this dish was the best he’d ever eaten.

“It tastes fantastic, Silver,” Lilia reassured at Silver’s anxious expression. He gave a toothy grin before eating another mouthful. “You’ve certainly leveled up your cooking skills since you were just a child.”

Silver’s face was bright. He began eating as well, nodding at himself at the flavor. “I should thank the ghost chefs, then.”

“As good as this dish may be, I can’t keep quiet any longer.” Lilia gave a dramatic sigh and rested his cheek on his palm. His red eyes were slightly narrowed, the same expression he’d give to his son whenever five-year-old Silver was about to get into mischief. “Is this really just you wanting to spend some time with me? Or is there some event that I happened to forget?”

Silver scratched his forehead. “Both?” he muttered.

Lilia’s eyes only narrowed further.

His son reciprocated his sigh and then started digging into his pocket. “A week ago, I was talking with Yuu. They mentioned that the humans in their world celebrated this holiday every third Sunday of June,” Silver said. He took out a folded envelope from his pocket. “‘A day to honor fatherhood and paternal bonds’...or something like that. Word spread, and I…I don’t know, I just thought it was a good idea. A day to celebrate you.”

With a nervous smile, Silver offered the envelope to a surprised Lilia. Lilia took it wordlessly.

“A day to honor fatherhood?” Lilia murmured to himself, carefully opening the envelope.

Inside was a brightly colored card, made from the parchment paper NRC provided in classrooms. It was nothing fancy, and honestly cut roughly, with Silver’s careful scrawl Happy Father’s Day on the front. When Lilia opened the card, Silver’s scrawl continued with a message: To the best father I could wish for. Thank you for everything. Enclosed within was a game card with the newest code for a limited edition, super-deluxe event item Lilia had been grinding to obtain for weeks on his online game.

Lilia’s throat closed. He took a few seconds to collect himself. Then, with eyes bright, he beamed up at his son with a smile. “So this is why you’ve been avoiding me for days,” he teased, voice thick with emotion.

Silver ducked his head. “You know me so well, you would have suspected immediately if you saw my face,” the teenager mumbled.

“True,” Lilia chuckled. He plucked the game code from the card triumphantly. “This also explains why you’ve been hanging out with Ortho.”

“I don’t understand the game you play, but he does, and he helped me get the item you were looking for.”

Lilia stared at the game code a little longer, taking in the effort and heart his son put into his Father’s Day gift. Suddenly, Lilia jumped from his seat, rounded the table, and enclosed Silver into a tight embrace. “Thank you, Silver,” Lilia said, touched. He pressed a long kiss to Silver’s forehead before rambling, “This was truly a thoughtful gift you’ve planned. I’ll have to thank Yuu for mentioning this holiday. Then I’ll tell Malleus to make this a national holiday for Briar Valley. Ah, you’ve grown up so well, Silver. I should give myself more props,” Lilia laughed.

Silver cleared his throat, loosely wrapping his arms around Lilia. “It’s really nothing compared to what you’ve done for me…” Then he sighed, tightening his embrace, and rested his head against Lilia’s chest. “Malleus suggested that after our meal, we could all play a round of baseball on the field. Sebek seemed to really like the idea. I think they want to spend time with you, too.” Silver looked up at his father. “In some ways, you’ve become a father to us all.”

Lilia blinked rapidly against the onslaught of emotions that abruptly accumulated within his chest. Damn these kids, he thought fondly.

Lilia bent to press another kiss to his son’s forehead. “That sounds wonderful.”