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Chapter Text

Thousands and thousands of books lined the shelves with their colorful spines, worn and gently creased so as to not damage them. The royal palace's library never ceased to amaze him. With ceilings so tall, whoever designed the place had chosen to have the shelved reach after them. Everyone knew that on the days Cale had to himself, he could be found amongst the books or wrapped up in a nest of blankets sleeping the day away.

At first, both Eruhaben and Ron had eyed him warily, clearly skeptical that he would be able to keep out of trouble. Rude. He directed a deadpan stare at them, only to have it returned with a version of their own or a chastising look. They'd brought up how last time he'd come to a place packed with vast knowledge like this, he basically had to be carried out. That was a one time thing. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Cale knew the risks of overworking record, which is why he used it in that manner sparingly.

It was a bit embarrassing to be carried out with everyone blubbering around him, so if he could help it, it won't happen again.

-

-

-

Alright. He must have jinxed himself.

He's being carried out of a library again. Only this time, with hands underneath his armpits and his feet miles away from the ground. Cale's not sure what's more embarrassing: the fact that he's currently swaddled in the shirt he'd worn here; the fact that he's now sat on the old butler's hip; or the fact that his frustration is making an appearance in the form of big, fat tears rolling down his now chubby cheeks. Ron, who held him with the expertise of a father, looked down at him with a soft, but knowing expression that showed he had expected something to happen.

"Why is our young master crying?" Ron asks softly, his worn hand gently patting at Cale's back.

"I'm not crying," Cale grumbles. His hands are clumsy and uncoordinated as he swiped at his damp face.

The butler lets out a hum that just tells him that none of his words had made it across. "I see, I see. What else do you have to say?" Ron coos, encouraging his babbling some more. Cale sputters as he tries to avoid the gloved fingers that come to wipe at his eyes and fails in doing so.

He swats at the man's shoulder, but in doing so, he notices how tiny his own hand is. Curling his fingers, he watches as each stubby digit scrunches shut into a fist. They do so slowly and for whatever reason, it takes way more concentration than it should.

And then he punches Ron's shoulder.

-

He'd been browsing along the selection of books when a spine with gold lettering caught his eye. Curling letters that were so daintily embossed, yet so hard to read, made Cale curious about its contents. He slipped the book out and flipped it around in his hands in order to look at the cover. Running his fingers across it, Cale traced the silhouette of a shattered hourglass. It was a simple design, but it it was beautiful and elegant. The gold of the details matched so well with the deep emerald, and buried in the sea of green were more intricate details in one shade darker. If he had to guess, the contents of the book were probably written about reversing time or maybe even time travel. It was a topic that never failed to catch his interest, but just as he ran a finger over the broken edge of the glass in the silhouette, he felt something nick his fingertip.

A hiss slipped through his teeth and he pulled away to inspect both the cover and his finger. Even under close inspection, there was nothing about the cover that would have been able to cut him, but it still managed to do so anyways. Weird. A dot of blood sat on the tip of his finger, nothing too much, but it still stung. Injuries like this were the worst because of the way they stung harshly even though they're usually not deep enough to draw blood half the time. It's like the mere memory is enough to renew the painful cuts. Cale lets out a sigh before popping his finger in his mouth to clean the wound. It was nothing a little saliva couldn't fix.

But this. This was where things went awry. There must have been something imbued in the cover because the moment his blood touched his tongue, it felt like everything had been turned onto its head. Heat rushed to the surface of his skin, bringing a horrible pressure to his temples with it. Cale's knees buckled as black encroached his vision, creeping in from the edges until he couldn't see a single thing in front of him. While it felt as though his blood might boil him alive, Cale had never felt so cold. If his head doesn't explode first, the fluctuating fever might be what does him in.

Squeezing his eyes shut, all Cale can do is try to will the pounding headache away. The novel, or whatever that cursed thing is, lays forgotten on the floor beside him. Its pages flutter open as a light radiates off of it like creeping tendrils. They inch towards Cale's prone form, wrapping around him like vines of ivy until he's fully enveloped and at their mercy.

It's a terrible, disorientating experience that makes him regret even leaving the villa. The migraine ebbs away too slow for his liking, eventually disappearing as though it never occurred, and the contrasting temperatures even out. He's a bit scared to learn what the fuck that was, but when he cracks an eye open, the world is bigger. The vast library that had extended far above his head as an adult seemed more like an endless sky above him now.

He'd been discovered almost immediately due to the loose curfew Ron had set. The butler told him that if he didn't return to the front by a certain time, he and the ancient dragon would make sure that Cale wouldn't be able to go anywhere without a chaperone. He was already mourning the time he had without them hovering over him because the moment he reverted back, they were definitely staying true to their word. The rug felt rough against his knees, digging into his soft skin with each shuffle, but what trips him up is the silk shirt. It wraps around him like a serpent, hindering his movement to the point that he ends up face planting into the dirty rug. His nose aches, throbbing and pulsing with pain that normally could have been ignored, but now it has tears welling up in his eyes. The sniffle he makes sounds alien to him - far too young and out of character for him in a way that adds to the unwanted sense of panic. Stupid baby emotions are too easy to overwhelm. It's his sniffling that sets the butler into action as well, scooping him off from the floor just before he was able to reach the discarded novel, and carefully checking for injuries.

"Oh... you clumsy boy," Ron mutters mindlessly, turning him around in his arms so that Cale faced him, "We must inform his highness and then we can return to the estate... surely Miss Rosalyn and Sir Eruhaben will be able to figure out the solution for this...."

Picking up Cale's clothing, Ron moved over to a table to set everything down and secure the shirt around the baby. At first, it was like a massive dress on the boy, but once he was done, it was more like an inconveniently large diaper. The librarian can handle putting away the novels that the young master had taken out, he had more important things to do than waste time doing so on his own. The clicking of his shoes was muffled by the rug as Ron strided towards the door.

"Ron," Cale says seriously, "We need to go back."

Reaching up, Cale patted at the old man's cleanly shaved face. Although he found Ron terrifying, there were more important matters at hand! If they turned back now, then maybe they wouldn't even have to report the incident. Cale is sure that the stupid book has the secret to reversing whatever this was, but he just needed Ron to turn around. Who knew if it'll even be in the same spot he'd taken it out of in the first place.

"Ron! Let's go back!" He tries again, his fingers pressing into the side of the man's face. This time, Ron hushes him, gently taking Cale's hand to tuck into his own before lightly bouncing a few times.

"I know you're getting antsy, but we're almost there, so hang on for a little longer," Ron patiently replies.

There was no escaping this, but at least the hold was comfortable. Cale lets out a disgruntled huff, giving in to his fate of being stuck like this. Squirming a little, he tries to free his hand from the much larger one and once he succeeds, he rests his head on Ron's shoulder. It's surprisingly nice - the secure hold, the steady gait, and the broad shoulder that his face is squished on. He finds himself having to blink back a fast approaching sleepiness, but with each blink, it feels like his eyes grow heavier and heavier. Raising his head again, Cale tries to will the drowsiness away, but it ends with failure when the gloved hand guides him back to resting on the shoulder.

"Stop it, I have to be awake..." - He did not whine, thank you very much. He was just speaking normally.

"Shh, shh... it's okay," Ron's pesky hand started patting at his back again, inviting the sleep right in, "You're tired aren't you? Why don't you sleep, young master."

"m... not tired..." He says, rubbing his face into the smooth fabric. Since Ron is so dead set in getting in his way, he can deal with wrinkles in his suit! Tiny fingers grasp at the collar of the butler's shirt and scrunch it again and again. A small laugh bubbles up as Cale admires his handiwork: Ron's pristine uniform was now ever so slightly wrinkled!

(Ron had to admit, he missed when both his son and the young master were babies. He missed how small they were in his arms and how they'd seek him out for comfort. As worrying as it was that the young master was suddenly a baby again for unknown reasons, a part of him was happy to see it.

The young master had always been a bit of a fussy baby and a chatterbox, so this wasn't anything too new for him.

Perhaps the little young master will finally keep himself out of trouble while they search for a way to change him back).

"Hmm? What's gotten our young master so giggly?" Ron asks, his stupidly soothing voice doing nothing to help Cale fend off the sleep.

Cale whacks at the back of Ron's shoulder again for good measure, but much to his annoyance, it draws a pleased laugh from the man.

"Our young master is so strong, isn't he?" Ron teased, his steps never faltering.

-

Cale's not sure when he dozed off, but he's brought back to awareness by the same gloved hand gently poking at his neck and sides. Grumbling, he tries to burrow his face back into the crook of Ron's neck, too tired to process how embarrassing his actions were. But to his dismay, he's pulled away. Cale's fingers dig into the fabric like the claws of a kitten as he tries to stop it, and he wins! Ron places him back onto his shoulder and Cale relaxes again... only to be pulled off cleanly. Bastard.

"Fuck youuu," Cale forces as much vitriol into his voice as he can. His fists coming up to rub at his eyes as he's held in a way that has him dangling midair. If Ron wanted, he could just drop Cale to his demise, and that very thought has his legs curling in ever so slightly. Cale needed to watch himself because turning into a baby must have dulled his common sense.

(Ron smiles fondly at the way the baby's bottom lip juts out into a pout. The young master was still just as fussy when he's woken up too early, but the little unhappy whines are just too cute.

Cale's little brows draw together, and once he's done rubbing his eyes, Ron is gifted with the grumpiest stare ever).

"Did you have a good nap?" Ron holds him out in front of him. It's too far for his short, stubby arms to even consider swiping at the man.

"No, no the fuck I did not!" Cale kicked his feet angrily, but they didn't meet any target. If anything, they just drew his attention to the fact that his shirt is tied around his waist. Fuck! Hot tears burn at the corners of his eyes with this surge of emotion, and even though he clamps his mouth shut to stop himself, it still slips out as a whimper. His bottom lip quivers as more tears well up at his lashes, which only serves to make him more embarrassed. It's a horrible cycle of embarrassment, tears, and anger that he can't seem to escape.

To add onto his ever growing mortification, he hears the crown prince pipe in, "Maybe... maybe we should deal with this without him here? He doesn't seem too happy..."

Cale can't see the man, but he sounds just as uncomfortable as he is right now.

"No, it's quite alright," Ron places him back onto his shoulder again and begins to smooth a hand up and down his back. It's a soft touch that's just on the brink of being ticklish, but it's just so damn comforting. It feels like the man had casted some sort of magic to make him stop crying, and honestly, Cale is so glad it worked. He didn't want to start bawling his eyes out for stupid things.

"Thanks, I guess," Cale sighs.

"Feeling better?" Ron pulls away again, and this time, Cale is ready.

Seeing how Cale's response was only a pout, Ron settles the boy on his hip again and begins to relay what little details he has to the crown prince. Every now and then, Cale would interject with wide waves of his arms and babbles as though he were trying to explain his side of the story.

"What happened, is that one of your stupid books turned me into a baby!!" Cale complains. This is his fourth attempt at trying to get his story across.

("Aaa! Aaawwhh!! Awwuhb booo!" Cale's eyes look so serious, but there's a lot of drool dribbling out from the corner of his mouth).

Alver has to hide his smile behind folded hands because the red haired baby would surely get offended if he laughed, "Is that so?"

He cracks though. A small huff reveals his amusement and Cale nearly whacks the butler with a wild swipe of the arm. He pauses though, and then Alver is met with eyes that are too clear for a normal baby. It's a bit unsettling, but it just goes to show that their commander was just stuck in that little baby.

"Take me over there, Ron," Cale tugs at the man's collar with one hand and points at the prince with the other.

"I think he wants you to hold him, your highness," Ron closes the distance between them and the prince until only the desk separates them and to seal the deal, Cale holds his arms out to reach for the blond man.

"Yes. Hold me so I can write you a damn message."

Something flashes across the crown prince's face - a mix of awe and tenderness that makes the grin that spreads across his features look so incredibly dumb.

"You want your hyung to hold you?" Alver's voice is filled with a giddy pride, so full of it that it wobbles. His voice is weirdly thick, too.

"No, you dunce, I need to get to your desk!" Cale huffs out, kicking his feet in annoyance when the prince takes too long. "Hurry up, so I can tell you what happened!!"

Finally, he's passed over to the blond, but the hold isn't as comfortable as Ron's. Alver holds him like he's scared of dropping him, his fingers barely squeezing him in fear of breaking him. Cale can sense the fear in the man and it's so entertaining that he laughs again. He's definitely going to use this later. For now though, he leans as far as he can with the two hands wrapped around his body. Just a little beyond his reach lies a feathered quill. It sits abandoned with a dollop of ink still wet on the tip. If he can get that, then he can write out what happened!

But no! He's being pulled back to sit in Alver's lap and Ron is moving everything further out of his reach. These assholes. They're making everything harder than it has to be! Small hands grasp at the edge of the desk, smacking at it a few times before Ron seems to get the hint.

"I believe the young master wishes to stand up," Ron says.

Alver hesitates. "He can stand?"

"Yes! Yes I can probably! Hurry up and help me up," Cale looks up at him with determination in his eyes.

"Yes, your highness, he seems to be around the age where babies begin to stand with assistance."

His feet, soft and round with baby fat, make contact with the silky fabric of Alver's slacks when he's stood up on the man's thighs. The prince's hands hover anxiously as Cale uses all of his strength to pull himself up, even jumping a bit whenever his knees wobble.

Cale's weight barely feels like anything on Alver's thighs, making the baby's size even more noticeable. The commander, who already had a rather frail constitution and frame, was changed into a chubby baby. His arms looked like they were made up of freshly baked bread rolls. His cheeks were round and ruddy, taking on a cute, red tint. The shirt wrapped around his bottom made him look even smaller because of how much fabric was bunched and knotted there. Were babies supposed to be this small? Alver didn't know.

The long red locks were replaced with a disarray of various length tufts that took turns standing up. Alver’s hands itched to try smoothing them down, but he was too scared to let go. What if Cale stumbled and ricocheted under his desk?? He’d feel horrible if the baby fell under his watch.

Alver had never been this close to a baby before, but there’s something he learned about himself - he was scared of them breaking.

And it seems like the little bugger was trying to get himself hurt.

Panic surged through him when Cale pulled himself closer to the desk, putting his weight onto the tips of his toes. They were tiny. How were they sustaining his weight?? Oh god, it looked like he was going to roll his ankle and tumble off. Alver sat stiffly as the baby began his attempts in climbing on top of the wooden surface. His legs were too short to reach, so it looked more like Cale was marching in place. What was he doing?

With trembling hands, Alver remained vigilant in case those little feet slipped, but at the same time, he stole glances at the seasoned caretaker. Ron, who he desperately blinked an S.O.S signal at, only stood by with a benign smile on his face. This time, his expression clearly harbored affection in it, with his enamor showing in the crows feet forming at the corners of his eyes.

(No! This wasn’t the time to stand there watching, Ron!)

Cale's plan ends with failure this time as well when the butler comes to Alver's aid, plucking the baby from his attempts.

"We will be returning to the estate," Ron says matter of factly, ignoring the now screeching and flailing baby in his arms.

"Yes..." Alver weakly replies.

Chapter Text

In the carriage, Ron stood him up with one hand clasped over his front and a thigh behind his legs to keep his feet from slipping out. As they passed through the town, the differences in the area was shown through the quality of the roads. Evenly cut stone changed to weathered, uneven bricks that jostled the carriage as they rolled over them. His mindless noises wobbled as they passed over the uneven terrain, making it sound a little like he was speaking into a fan. The world was so much bigger, blooming up way over his head to surround him in a childish sense of wonder.

(Usually, Ron would ride up front with the coachman, but for obvious reasons, he shared the seat with his ward. The young master's eyes looked as though they were filled with all the stars in the night sky. He'd only caught a glimpse of it when a particularly hard bump caused the boy to lose his balance. His reddish brown eyes like pools of melted amber under the warm sun, looking up at him when Ron was quick to steady him. He placed the tiny hands back onto the sill to continue as though he hadn't fallen at all).

With the capital being a great ways away from home, Ron needed to make sure to stock up before they left the town.

Pulling Cale into his lap caused the boy to let out a noise of complaint, but other than that, he didn't fight it. He slung his arm around Ron's neck without a second though, but peered curiously at him. Cale tilted his head in a silent question to ask why his scenery watching had been interrupted.

"Young master, we will be stopping by some shops before we leave," Ron informs him.

The baby in his arms coos in response and then stands up in his lap using his shoulders to steady himself. His knees wobble and his weight is mostly on Ron's shoulders instead of balanced on his feet, but Cale gives a gummy grin when he meets the butler's eyes. It puffs out his cheeks even more, crinkling his eyes into little arcs. Thinking back, the young master had always been a troublemaker. He'd always manage to speed off the moment he or the madame looked away, and his mischievous giggles were the only warning they received before the boy was halfway down the hall. Hopefully, the young master won't feel the need for a repeat, but that's something only time can tell.

Turning him around, Ron holds Cale's hands as he guides him in taking steps down from his lap and towards the window again. The baby's body leaned too far forwards or too far backwards with each step, but each one was eagerly taken.

-

"The faster I can walk, the better," Cale mutters out. His fingers wrapped around two of Ron's as he plods forward. "But being carried is nice as well... it'll be a backup. Just in case I need to go somewhere alone."

Buildings bled into one another to create one massive blur as he focused on keeping his balance instead. As they approached the roads with more foot traffic, the horses slowed to a trot. Ron scooped him up from the seat again, only this time, the butler got up to open the small window behind the coachman.

"We'll get off here," Ron says.

The horses whinny and the clopping of their hooves slow to a complete stop. Having never been the type to enjoy shopping in boutiques, Cale had never been around here, and with the fact that he never had a reason to, it made the area even more unfamiliar. He preferred having a tailor come to him, or following the children wherever they pulled him in the street markets. Ron, on the other hand, moves with familiarity, only slowing for a few moments as though to recollect where things were and what he needed.

"I haven't come here since the young lady was a baby," Ron tells him idly, shifting him to the other arm. "Even then, I'd only come to pick up an order on my way back to the estate."

With nothing else to do, Cale makes a noise acknowledging that he heard, but it comes out more like a gurgled coo.

"When you were a baby, I came to shop here as well," Ron's finger pokes at his nose, making him go a little cross eyed from following it. What the hell.... "The madam was still recovering, so this Ron came in her stead. She ended up almost buying out the entire catalog."

Shifting in the butler's hold, Cale turns to look at the boutique they're entered. He almost flinches at the array of cutesy and over the top outfits that litter the room. From frills to sequins to bows... the store seemed to have everything but plain clothing. The original owner of his body had been dressed in clothing like this? No wonder his closet was filled with fancy, eye-catching clothing! It took a while for all the outfits to be replaced with comfortable, less preppy ones. Ron should know his tastes! The man had been looking after him for over two years now, he better not shove him into some gaudy, itchy thing.

"You better not. I'm not wearing any of that," Cale scowls at the old man.

"Our young master would look good in any of these," Ron smiles benignly.

Two small hands trap Ron's face between them, pulling his attention solely onto the baby in front of him. "I'm. Not. Wearing. That," Cale tries to bite out (but how can he bite when he only has gums?), and narrows his eyes.

(Cale looks so serious as he gurgles and babbles...

Even as a baby, his preferences don't seem to have changed, but teasing him was just too fun).

Cale smacked at the man's shoulder as they approached the racks of clothing. This selection made his skin crawl with the very thought of having to wear any of it. Each piece was lined with scratchy lace that would surely sit tight around his skin, refusing to stretch or even budge as he moved around. To top it off, whoever made them must have been obsessed with blindingly bright colors. Seriously, did the creator vomit a rainbow onto these or something? Cale would rather screech and draw attention than be shoved into one of those.

Luckily, he doesn't have to because Ron takes them right past the lot of them, chuckling as he strides towards the sleepwear. These, unlike the rest, were made up of softer colors and simpler designs. The patterns and designs were cute and cheesy, but he could deal with it. They were nestled near the back of the store, and Ron just had to tease him for no reason!

"Do you like this one?" Ron asks, his tone hushed in a way that immediately calms him back down.

A light yellow piece was brought up for him to touch, its design making it so that his legs would have space to move around, but they would remain inside the sack. This one in particular was covered in little orange bears, its fabric is downy soft underneath his fingers, and it looks insanely comfortable. Baby sack be damned, Cale would rather wear this than whatever the nobles thought was trendy. He's too entranced by the softness to notice when Ron tosses a couple of them over his other shoulder and moves on. He watches with a dark glare as the man holds a set of overalls up to his front. Ron clicks his tongue, putting it back onto the rack to swipe through the size selection. He pulls out one that apparently is in his size this time, and the thought of overalls isn't too bad, but the design is.

"Miss, would I be able to dress my baby in this so he can wear it out? Ron asks, his voice taking on a faux politeness that could out do the customer service workers he'd seen in his previous life. Faker. Ron, you fake.

"Of course, feel free!" The lady replies, excitedly showing them towards the changing rooms, "That one will look absolutely adorable on him! You have great taste."

"Great taste my ass," Cale grits out, a frown marring his face.

Before leaving the carriage, Ron had adjusted the fabric of his shirt to cover him more, but now, that makeshift outfit was peeled off of him. Before he could even squirm, Cale was overwhelmed by the speed that Ron redressed him. How embarrassing! He let out a yell as he was blindsided by a shirt slipping halfway over his head. Reaching up, Cale was made aware of how short his arms actually were. No matter how hard he tried to pull it down, he didn't have enough coordination to do so, plus his heavy ass head didn't help either. In his struggle, Ron had managed to pull an actual diaper from who knows where and then pull the pants onto him. He'd kicked his feet futilely during the whole ordeal and look what good it did. Nothing. Now he was dressed in tan overalls that had darker brown splotches sewn in to create mud spots. The pocket on the front has the features of a dog stitched into it. Those alone don't seem too bad, but then Ron secures a dog eared hat onto his head, tying its strings into a neat bow right beneath his chin. The cherry on top of this upsetting outfit was a fabric tail that curls out from the back of the overalls, lightly stuffed so that it held its shape.

Dread flooded him wholly as he's being held out in front of the butler, face to face with the pride filled expression.

"No! This isn't something you should be proud of yourself for!" Cale cries out, his feet kicking wildly into the air.

"It seems our master knows how well this suits him," Ron flips him around a few more times to admire his handiwork, shamelessly grinning to himself.

"Take this off," Cale demands. His fingers are too chubby to grasp the dainty string, but it doesn't stop him from trying.

Ron studied the dark scowl on his ward's face (read: pout), and then carefully adjusted the boy in his arms so that he was laid on his belly across the length of his forearm. With Cale's bum in his palm and the baby's head tucked against the crease of his elbow, Ron began to rock from one foot to the other.

"You're getting worked up," Ron says matter of factly.

"Yeah, because SOMEONE is dressing me in..." His grumbles trail off into a big yawn.

The hold, combined with the gentle swaying, was a sure fire way to help the baby settle down. This was the young master's favorite when he was around this age. He'd refuse to fall asleep, and the moment he did, he would wake up immediately if put down in his crib. It wasn't until they tried this that Cale would finally fall into a deep sleep. Maybe it was the sense of security that came with being held right up against Ron's side, or maybe it was the gentle movement that transferred with each step. Ron knew for sure that this would soothe the boy within seconds.

And he was right, Cale was out like a light, but not without a few displeased whines. He must've been tired, after all, it was nearly 3 in the afternoon. He'll have to wake him up during the ride so that he can eat.

(Cale falls asleep with a frustrated curse on his tongue, his cheek squished against Ron's forearm, and his limbs dangling down freely. He wanted to stay awake so that he could try to fight the man's purchases, but Ron just had to hold him like a damn football. Why is this stupid football hold so nice??)

Having already raised two babies, Ron handled the rest of the shopping with ease. He piled the outfits onto his shoulders and grabbed the pack of cloth diapers with his free hand. Cale looked to be around 6 months old, but it seemed like he might begin walking sooner this time. It took a little while longer the first time around. Placing the diapers down again, he stacked a few bottles, pacifiers, and teething toys on top. Juggling them with one hand was easy after working as a butler and caretaker for nearly two decades.

"Will this be all?" The shop owner asks, neatly folding each clothing item and placing them into a bag.

"I'd like to buy some formula as well," He says, stepping back to browse the selection through the glass. All of the formula was displayed below the register to keep them from being stolen. "Please give me 4 cans."

The lady nods and moves to grab them. Her eyes crinkle with the fondness of a mother when they land on the baby again. Every so often, Cale would make a small noise in his sleep. It wasn't anything much to worry about, he was just such a talkative boy that he cooed between his faint snoring.

Aawwuu

"Such a lovely boy," She smiles, "How old is he?"

"He turned six months old today," Ron replies truthfully.

Wisps of red poke out from beneath the tan hat, and without it, they would be sticking out in all sorts of directions. With the outfit and how quick Cale was to fall asleep, he resembled a young puppy even more.

-

The trip home had gone relatively smoothly. With traveling between the capital and the Henituse territory taking around 4 days, they had to stop at inns to spend the nights. If the young master weren't a baby, Ron would have suggested setting up camp on the road. Call him a worrywart, but he didn't want to even consider the risk of bandits when Cale was as vulnerable as he was now. He would much rather handle things on his own even though the knights were at the young master's beck and call. Cale sleeps comfortably in his arms each night, easily dragged under by soft shushing and a few pats.

Other than the time Cale energetically wanted to see the crown prince, he spent the majority of his time sleeping. Babies around 6 months were sure to sleep around 14 hours out of the day, easily sleeping through the night and then taking a couple of hours during the day. Cale, though, seemed to be an overachiever and was barely awake to eat. Perhaps it was the abrupt change? It would make sense if all of the man’s exhaustion carried over into his current form. The young master, as smart and charismatic as he was, was horrible at taking care of his own well being.

-

Oftentimes, he’d make his last rounds through the hall before turning in for the night, expecting the young master to be fast asleep. Dimming embers of light licking across the inky shadows, shooing them away just enough for Ron to see a few feet beyond him. It’s the perfect amount though - a small radius of light that wouldn’t give quick warning to anyone around farther corners. His ears were sharp and his daggers were even sharper, the cover of the night did nothing to hinder him.

So color him surprised when he rounded the corner, steadily stepping into the hallway where the young master’s bedroom resided, only to see a thin strip of light etched onto the floor. A deep sigh swelled up in his lungs before escaping in a slow exhale.

Ron knocked on the door, “Young master?”

“Come in,” Cale returned.

The door opened with a soft click, its well oiled hinges preventing it from making any further noise. The red haired man sat with his back against the headboard of his bed with his legs tucked under the soft duvet. The three children were sprawled across the covers, their limbs splayed out like the legs of a starfish. In doing so, they pushed Cale closer to the edge with how little space they left him. Ron knew he didn’t mind though. A leather bound book sat in the noble’s lap, each page yellowed with time, but carefully turned, seeing as there were no misplaced creases in the pages. The young master was up late reading again, he sighs.

“It’s well past bedtime,” Ron points out, his eyes swimming with mirth, and his lips curling into his signature benign smile. He knew the tight lipped grin always served to bother the younger man, which only gave him more reason to continue doing it.

“Oh,” Cale says, turning to glance at the clock. This only proved that he got caught up in his novels and lost track of time again.

Ron’s footfalls are muted as he makes his way over, the heels of his shoes barely clicking against the floor. The book is easily plucked from Cale’s hands, his place saved by a slip of paper.

“You should be resting,” He chides, watching as Cale slipped further under the covers. Gently, Ron scoops the children up one by one, and places them a little further, allowing Cale the space to comfortably rest without fear of falling off. The three are quick to find their way back to his side even in their sleep, wrapping their arms around him or throwing a leg over one another.

Turning the switch of the lamp, the room is blanketed by darkness with a click. “Good night, young master.”

On his way out, Ron can make out a soft mutter of “night” in return.

-

Waking Cale up was always on the harder side. As an adult, the red haired man tended to enjoy sleeping in rather than waking up early in the day. Though, he wouldn't resist when woken up, reluctantly dragging his feet out of bed after a gentle shake to his shoulder. As a baby, it seemed to be a whole different story.

Warm hands support Cale's neck, gently guiding him until he sat up. He'd been sleeping in Ron's lap, fitting perfectly into the little divot between his two thighs. Even when the butler lightly pinched and prodded at his cheeks, Cale refused to wake up. The baby curled up in his hold, his features scrunching up to show his annoyance.

"Young master," Ron crooned, slowly placing the boy into his shoulder, "you have to wake up, young master, it's time to eat."

Cale let out a soft whine at that, hiding away in the crook of the man's neck. The hand patting at his back was insistent on waking him, and paired with the jostling bounces, it only served to annoy him.

Peeling open his eyes proved to be a struggle this time. Sleep weighed him down to the point that the butler's words were too distant to be understood. Whatever he was saying, though, Cale didn't like it.

There's a rustling of fabric and then cool air was allowed in to nip at his skin. It's a rude awakening that draws tears to his eyes, quickly welling up until they threaten to overflow. Before he's able to understand what's going on, a plastic nipple is being bullied into his mouth. As his mind finally catches up, Cale wants to complain and punch at the man. But when the milk meets his tongue, he begins to suckle without a single delay. Its warmth quells the irritation from earlier, beckoning sleep back with each gulp. Cale falls back asleep with his tummy warm and full, his breath sweet with milk.

(The baby's blinks are slow, his gaze unfocused on the world around him as he slips back under. Ron caressed those round cheeks with a thumb, lazily dragging it back and forth against the supple skin.

Before sleep completely drags the boy under, Ron drapes him over his shoulder and pats at the space between his shoulders. A soft burp escapes from his mouth, followed by a content sigh. It comes out as a soft hoaamm that absolutely melts him completely.

He'd already decided to follow this man and serve him, but now, the baby had him wrapped around his tiny fingers).

Chapter Text

The crisp morning air was refreshing, sneaking in through the small gap Ron had cracked open in the window. It wasn't too chilly, but the lower temperature had the baby in his lap snuggling closer. Cale had tried to roll around a bit in his sleep, but settled down again once he was somewhat on his side. The position didn't seem too comfortable, but Ron didn't try to adjust him. Last time he did, Cale had grunted in his sleep, kicking out his feet sharply in quick succession. Of course, it didn't hurt. The boy looked close to rolling off of his lap, but otherwise, he was sleeping soundly. Absent-mindedly, Ron swept a thumb over the swell of Cale's cheek, far too occupied with trying to think of what could have possibly caused this incident.

-

He'd accompanied the young master the day, dutifully following him to the library until he was promptly shooed off with a narrow eyed stare. Not a single soul had been in the library at same time as the young master. It was a precaution set in place by the crown prince for security purposes as well as to indulge Cale's preference of spending his time there alone. This was implemented after noble ladies began to flock to the palace's library, begging their fathers for a chance to run into the aloof "Young Master Silver Shield." This library was not open to the public, but with their fathers being important supporters, the crown prince had reluctantly granted them access.

("Are you sure you don't mind?"

"It's not like I own the place," Cale replied with a nonchalant wave of the hand, flipping the page to the next).

After thoroughly checking that his young master was indeed the only visitor. Ron left to stand guard at the only entrance to ensure that Cale's visit remained undisturbed. Although many more had access to the library, there was one incident that lead to the prince closing it off for Cale when he visited. The noble ladies flooded into the library with their stinging perfumes and tried to cling as close as they could to the young noble. Eventually, Cale couldn't tolerate it any longer and stopped visiting. Since the prince had wanted his honorary brother to feel at ease in the palace, he banned anyone else from making use of the library during Cale's time there, and Cale returned. The library was plenty large with endless places for someone to hide, but their presence would not go unnoticed by the assassin. Magic was laced into the panes of the windows, casted to serve as an alarm for when any attempts to open them from the outside. Ron had been confident that the young master's visit would go seamlessly, or at least as seamless as possible.

Fishing the watch from the interior pocket of his vest, Ron peered at its face. The watch itself was a gift he received from Cale one day in December.

(Cale stiffly held out a plain, black box towards him, "Here."

Curiously, Ron only smiled in response, waiting for the man to elaborate. It was because of this that Cale let out an audible sigh, and reached out to press the box into his gloved palm.

"What is this?" Ron asked, his usual mask broken when he raised a brow.

Cale looked away while muttering, "Present."

His ears can barely be seen because of how they're close to blending into the red of his hair. The young noble is quick to escape, briskly walking away to return to his room.

Ron comes to find that the young master had prepared thoughtful gifts for everyone in the villa. Each person received something that the red haired man had seen and thought they would like).

It was nearing the time they agreed to return. The sun was still high with it only being half past two in the afternoon, but since the young master had opted for a lighter lunch today, it would be good to eat again soon.

Ron knocked on the varnished doors, "Young master."

There's no response, but that isn't too unusual. Very often, Cale would end up falling asleep with a book still in his hands. Ron opened the door quietly, surveying the closest tables for a glimpse of red. In their last visit, he found the red head curled up on the sill of a window, basking in the warmth with a book dangling precariously from his fingers. The scent of old books and dust wafted into his nose as he checked each one of Cale's favorite hiding spots. One by one, they were checked off of his mental list, but when he rounded the corner, he was struck with panic. Books were stacked into towers on the table, but out of the corner of his eye, Ron spotted fabric on the floor.

"Young master Cale," Ron called out again. His strides quick with urgency, hoping that he would not find Cale's prone form on the floor.

He doesn't find Cale collapsed or unconscious as he fears, but what he does find leaves him speechless for a couple of seconds. The baby version of his ward was halfway out from under his pooling clothes. Sharp eyes were now rounded and wider, but the bridge of his nose was crinkled as he tried to escape the fabric. Hands smacked against the carpet as Cale began to move.

What could have happened?

A soft whimper breaks Ron from his thoughts, drawing his attention back to what mattered most. Cale was sprawled out on his belly, but instead of holding himself up like he had been doing before, he was now completely flat. After picking him up, it became clear what had happened. His round button nose tinted red from planting it straight into the ground. Reddish brown eyes dewy as his bottom lip jutted out into a trembling pout. Figuring out the cause was crucial, but comforting the boy was more important at the moment.

-

As they neared the territory, Ron asked that the coachman take them to the villa. The duke and the duchess will be informed after Sir Eruhaben checked him over. It was now the fourth day of the young master being stuck in this form and Cale showed no sign of returning to his original form.

Seas of emerald greens surrounded them, the sunlight shining through the leaves to color them in lighter hues. It was a route they'd all grown to recognise and love. Soon, they'd pass a downed tree, whose trunk was as wide as the length of a horse. The children loved to climb all over it, holding their arms out to balance themselves as they used it as a balance beam. After that, they'd follow a bend in the dirt path that avoided a swampy patch of cattails and reeds. The first time they had returned to the villa in a carriage, the coachman hadn't known to avoid the spot. Mud reached up to hug the wheels, dragging the carriage down as a warm welcome. It had taken nearly half an hour to calm the horses after they began to buck, their hearts rabbiting in their chests and their eyes blown wide. In the end, they all made it back home to the villa safely and the crisis had become a fond memory to remember with each trip home.

Ron smoothed his palm over the short tufts of red hair. He was due for another bottle soon, but hopefully they'd arrive at the villa before then. Lightly, he squeezed Cale's cheek, delighting in how the boy reached up to swat at him with a mitten clad hand in his sleep. Currently, Cale was dressed in the yellow sleep sack he'd touched at the store. This one had come with mittens in the same shade as the bears in the designs. Normally, Ron wouldn't have used the mittens, but since his nails were too sharp, he didn't want to risk it.

He had already gotten a taste of the boy's razor sharp nails the day prior. He prodded at Cale's side, which resulted in a frustrated swipe.

On his cheek, a pink line stood prominently against his skin. The scratch wasn't harsh enough to draw blood, but it was enough to startle the both of them. Cale's eyes had gotten so wide with shock at his own actions, but Ron merely smiled in return. The young master was like a feral little kitten to be loved on until he melted under the love.

("It's alright, I know you didn't mean to," Ron said softly, lifting Cale up, "I was teasing you too much wasn't I?"

The baby made a small noise, his brows furrowing as his lips turned downwards. Pudgy fingers reached out to pat at the butler's cheek, the motion gentle and cautious so as not to cause more pain.

"I know, you're sorry, aren't you?" His tone stays level and soft. Cale doesn't struggle when he's pulled closer.

The next noise he makes almost sounds apologetic.

"It's okay, you're still a good boy, young master," Ron whispers, patting at the sniffling boy's back. Cale Henituse is kind, but more or less closed off. He's become easier to understand now that his emotions are forced onto his sleeves though.

Until they could get their hands on some clippers, Cale will just have to get used to his little time out mittens).

A knock from the coachman's window breaks him from his thoughts, informing him that they would reach the villa soon.

Placing his hands under the baby's arms, Ron carefully sat Cale up in his lap. Gloved fingers trail up and down the small expanse of the baby's back, soothing yet ticklish. Cale leaned forward to snuggle closer into Ron's stomach, completely ignoring the attempts to wake him up slowly.

"Come on," Ron coaxed, "It's time for you to wake up, mister, we'll be home soon."

A faint huff comes from his front, muffled with how Cale's face is buried into the fabric. Fondness fills his chest, warm and sweet, and Ron decides to let his ward sleep a little longer.

-

It's dark when he wakes up and Ron is nowhere to be found. Oddly enough, it feels weird not having the butler in his sight first thing after waking up. He kicks his leg over to try to flip onto his front, only to find that he's surrounded by pillows. With them here, his already limited ability to move is practically cut down into nothing.

"Ron," he calls out, waving his arms out in front of him.

The darkness was disorienting, making him question just how long he'd been asleep. Had the trip taken longer than planned? His mind is drawing blanks since he had spent the majority of his time fully conked out.

"Ron!!" He tries again, and luckily, his call is answered right away this time.

The door cracks open, flooding the room with brightness as it's pushed in wider. It's not Ron who comes in though. Beside him, the mattress dips lightly, the sounds of sheets rustling softly meets his ears. Golden and azure eyes watch him from above, brightening with excitement. With a wave of the paw, Raon removes some sort of magic, allowing light to beam in through the windows again. The sudden brightness forces him to squint.

"Grandpa!" Hong cried out gleefully, leaping off of the bed to drag the butler in. The padding of his feet against the floor is soft just like in his feline form. "Grandpa, he woke up!"

Cale cranes his neck to try to see, but a wall of plush pillows block the world off. No amount of kicking makes them budge.

"Damn it, why are babies so weak?" He grumbles.

"Did our young master sleep well?" Ron asks.

The butler's silent and sudden appearance is enough to startle Cale to the point of shouting, "FUCK!"

His heart hammered inside his chest like a panicked rabbit.

(The tiny babe jolted, his arms and legs drawing in close to his chest sharply.

Cale let out a decently loud "Aah!!" and that alone was too cute.

But his eyes soon filled with tears…)

"Lemonade gramps!!" Raon gasped, the pillows sinking in under the weight of his paws.

From where he was, Cale could see the little dragon's withering glare from the side. There isn't too much heat behind it because of how his plump body nullifies it. It's weird seeing the kids like this. He wasn't the tallest or biggest man, but usually they'd fit snuggly into his arms. That was especially true for Raon, who made it his personal mission to always wiggle his way into Cale's lap. Now, they were towering over him. Did they grow? Or was he smaller than he thought?

He knows that Ron is entertaining the child and returning his stare with one of his own. What cuts their little showdown off is the loud rumbling of his stomach. Cale had already known he was growing hungry, but he didn't expect his body to rudely announce it to the world like this. Usually, he can handle it, but with being so small, the hunger feels like it's larger than anything else. The rumbling acted like a warning before the hunger pangs started. Twisting and turning, it made itself apparent, making him uncomfortable to the point that he could help but whine.

"It hurts… Ron, I'm hungry…" His words come out from between his wobbling lips. As much as he wanted to be independent, Cale knew he needed to rely on the butler.

"Don't worry, Cale-nya, grandpa Ron will be fast." Pink toe beans squish lightly against his head with every pat.

The kittens leap out of the way to give Ron more space, moving to sit beside their youngest sibling to watch. Ron moves out of sight again, but this time, there's the sound of sloshing liquid that follows right after. The pillows are slowly moved out of the way, Raon picking them up and the kittens using their noses to nudge them further. They take the places of the pillows that were at his sides and feet, cozying up right beside him.

Without the wall of pillows, Cale is able to track the butler as he moves about the room. Ron is taking a little too long for his dumb body's liking, dabbing a dot of milk onto his wrist to check the temperature. His stomach curls in with a hunger pang again, far too vicious for him to handle, and the kids seem to sense this with how they start rushing Ron. Paws smack at the cushy bed as they demand that Cale be fed now, their tails lashing with worry. Ron ignores their outbursts coolly and moves to sit on the edge of the bed just next to him, holding the rubber nipple to his mouth. If he had the choice, Cale would rather be eating a meal cooked by Vicross, but this is fine, too. The first sip does wonders to ease the insistent pain, soothing him into a calm as he peered up into Ron’s eyes.

“My apologies, young master,” Ron sighs, “It would have been too hot for you to drink. You must have been starving, weren’t you?”

Cale’s hand moves to grasp at the bottle around the hand that holds it up for him, his fingers keeping themselves occupied by trying to pry Ron’s off. His mood is ten times better than before, his eyes curling into little crescent moons as he looked up at Ron. With him being fed, the children revert back from being hissing little beasts to content loaves around him. Hong is stationed at his feet so close that the red fur tickles his skin, drawing a giggle out from around the bottle. Cale is so overjoyed that he doesn’t notice that he’s pressing the soles of his feet into the soft fur until Hong lets out a laugh of his own. He’d already known that their fur was plush and wooly, but it feels even better like this for some reason. A part of him feels bad for playing with the boy’s fur with his feet, but Hong only leans into the touch, encouraging him to explore even more.

(It tickled! When those tiny feet reached out to explore his fur, Hong wanted to roll over with laughter because of how much it tickled! Usually, Hong would get mad about stinky feet touching him, but little Cale-nya was too cute. His feets weren't stinky either, so its okay!)

Raon moves to Ron’s side with his wings fluttering behind him, clearly eager about something. “Lemonade gramps! Can I hold it for little human?”

Azure eyes sparkle as the dragon clasps his paws together. Raon sure is putting his puppy dog eyes to use because Ron smiles in return, teaching him on how he should hold the bottle. It was like Raon had been offered everything in the world with how he excitedly clambered up into the butler’s lap to take over. Ohn shuffled closer until she was pressed right against his side and rested her chin on his stomach, right in arms reach for him as well. A tiny hand reached out to pet her, but instead of the usual action of smoothing down her fur, his fingers scrunched on instinct. The motion of raking his hand down her back ended up with a few snags in her fur, but if it hurt, she doesn’t show any implication that it does.

(Cale-nya is a little clumsy now and sometimes he accidentally tugs on her fur, but it’s okay, she doesn’t mind! She knows he doesn’t mean to),

-

If anyone were to witness the despair flashing across the children’s faces and the way their shoulders slumped in defeat, they would have assumed Ron had broken the worst life-altering news to them. That wasn’t the case. Ron had only told them they weren’t allowed to tag along to the discussion between them, Eruhaben, and Miss Rosalyn. Silently, Cale thanks Ron in his mind. As much as he missed the kids as well, he knew that if they tagged along, he would be subject to playing with them while the “adults” talked. Cale couldn’t have that! He needed to get them to understand what happened so he could change back soon!

Today, he had a plan. In observing his hands (no he wasn’t playing with his own fingers), he spotted a thin scab where he had nicked his finger. This! This would be his way to tell them! Pride wells up in his chest as the butler carries him away from the kids, their crestfallen forms disappearing as they rounded a corner. Cale felt a little bad when the kitten’s ears had drooped in response, but they would surely bounce back once he returned from the meeting.

It’s only when his hand is pulled away from his mouth that Cale notices that he had been gnawing on his fingers. “Young master, that’s dirty. We’ll get you something better later. Don’t put your hands in your mouth, understand?”

It feels a bit patronizing being scolded like this, but Cale agrees. He shouldn’t be shoving his fingers into his mouth, that’s what babies do! Cale gratefully places his hand into Ron’s handkerchief covered palm, allowing the man to wipe the drool away from it and his face.

“Maybe you need a bib…” Ron mutters.

“I don’t need a bib!” Cale counters defensively. His face scrunches up at the thought of having some cutesy fabric tied around his neck.

Ron simply bounces him a tad to calm him, and then he’s knocking on the door to the office. He doesn’t wait for a response before opening the door and walking in. Light filters through the windows, illuminating the dust that dances in the air. Eruhaben must have been growing agitated because Cale knew they hadn’t been gone long enough for this much dust to collect. The golden haired man was standing by the desk, leaning back onto the surface with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His features, which were marred with his tenseness, had softened when his eyes swept over them. Whatever curse was immediately curbed before it could slip past his lips.

“That’s Cale?” Eruhaben asks softly, walking over them to get a closer look. He tilts his head, the slits of his eyes dilating as he takes a closer look.

Cale wasn’t sure what came over him, but he’s nearly swept away by the wave of shyness that crashed over him. With everyone looking at him, he just wants to hide away, s, so he does. Cale turns away from their gazes, covers his face with his mitten-clad hands, and tucks himself away into Ron's hold.

(His ears are so, so red under all of the attention).

He's jostled in the butler's hold as Ron begins to laugh. The low chuckle right against his ear where he's hiding away in the man's chest. It nearly drowns out Rosalyn's soft cooing, but he hears it anyway, and it only feeds his growing embarrassment. Oh how Cale hated the stupid tendencies that came with being de-aged.

"Why's our little master feeling so shy?" Rosalyn teases. Cale knows that she's got a shit-eating grin on her face.

"I am not shy," he says, but his words are muffled by Ron's lapel.

Rosalyn coos again and that's enough for him to tear himself away from his spot to glare at her. Directing all his dismay into his eyes, he narrows them, but that only makes her laugh again!!

"Don't laugh!!" He swats at the empty air between them.

Rosalyn snorts, willing herself to stop, but the cheeky grin doesn't leave her face. "Sorry, sorry, you were just too cute."

"I'm not cute." He does not pout!!

“I’m sorry, young master, but you are indeed cute. Adorable even.”

Cale whipped his head back with a look of utmost betrayal, the pout on his lips growing even more prominent after Ron had chipped in. His last hope was Eruhaben, but the ancient dragon watches silently with an unreadable expression on his face. It’s a mostly blank reaction that Cale doesn’t know what to make of.

Chapter Text

The silence was a bit unnerving with how the ancient dragon was usually quick to comment on things. Only a few times has the man reacted in such a way, and the majority of his silent reactions were because he was simply unable to comment freely. During the times Eruhaben had been reduced to a swordsman as his guard or a as a relative, Cale could practically feel the man's judgment. Just because he couldn't outwardly speak his mind didn't mean Cale was safe from the quips.

-

You unlucky bastard, Eruhaben's voice rang out in Cale's mind, So you've finally gone insane, huh?

Cale sat across from a wealthy noble, slightly stiffening up as the ancient dragon began to berate him in his mind. Red locks dyed a navy blue, his eyes taking on a golden hue with a cast of mana. Cale had chosen this man because of how he was the cause of several children's disappearances. Children who usually resided on the corners of the streets, their eyes keen and intelligent, suddenly disappearing into nothing. After a thorough search, Cale's allies had come to find that these children, who were smart enough to know who to and not to approach, had been sold off. They were humble children, taking only enough to keep themselves fed and constantly searching for ways to work for their own living. Their hard working characteristics had been taken advantage of.

So here he was, sitting across from the same noble. Sweaty palms clasped over his hands on the table as the man leaned in, his voice nasally and harsh on the ears. Cale had approached the man under the guise of being a young teen who had heard good things about the jobs provided. It was a cover story that, combined with a change of hair color and eyes, fit perfectly so as not to raise any suspicion. They'd done a thorough background check on the man, unearthing countless criminalizing acts that would easily sink this trafficking ring to the ground. What hadn't been included in that check was the fact that Cale's current appearance was just his type.

It would have been so much easier to be carted off to who knows where along with the other children. Instead, Cale was showered in luxury as the man tried to buy his way into becoming someone Cale fancied.

Absolutely insane, Eruhaben scoffed in his mind again, Look where this has gotten you! Now this greasy man is trying to woo you!

Eruhaben had taken up the role of his uncle this time, inviting himself along to their little "date" to keep watch. The noble bastard didn't even blink at his insisting, allowing him to tag along because he wanted to "do it right" and get his approval. Not that Eruhaben would ever give it.

What Cale didn't mind about the entire ordeal was the fact that the man had readily handed over large sums of wealth after seeing Cale's reaction.

(It was a last minute gift that had Cale's eyes widening for a second. Before he left, the man had pressed a wadded paper into his hand. Having expected it to be contact information, the golden dragon was close to turning it to dust on the spot. Cover be damned. After unfolding it, they discovered that it was a check, the amount of zeroes running on for a while. It wasn't as much as he would receive from his father, but money is money. Cale happily accepted it with a bright, fake smile).

Thankfully, he didn't have to drag out the act for too long after releasing the information out to the public. Flyers with the man's face and his deeds fluttered about, strewn in the wind for passerby to catch.

The good samaritan act that he worked so hard to maintain was shattered within seconds. His residence was trashed during the night as the public immediately scorned him.

(Eruhaben had personally turned all of his belongings to dust before demanding that Cale scrubbed his hands clean).

-

Cale waited for the dragon to speak into his mind or say something. Nothing comes though - only the silent, watchful gaze.

(Eruhaben resisted the urge to steal the baby away, returning to his lair to keep Cale to himself.

Cale was too tiny to teleport anyways. As safe as it was, he didn't want to risk anything).

It was Rosalyn that broke the strange silence first, "If you don't mind me asking, why didn't you two teleport home immediately?"

The option had slipped Cale's mind completely with how little time he spent awake during the trip. Cale turned to look at Ron for an answer as well. In this wait, Cale managed to somehow rid his right hand of the pesky mitten, discreetly tossing it over the butler's shoulder.

(Eruhaben masks his amusement as Cale's brows furrowed in focus, clearly upset at the little fabric).

"I assumed that the instantaneous change in location could have given him severe motion sickness because of how young he is," Ron replies.

Eruhaben nods in agreement at this, "Although safe, everyone reacts differently."

Both he and Rosalyn make a noise at their answers, but his comes out as a small coo and it draws all of the attention back to him. Damn it. It's hard to will away the shyness. Redness creeps back onto his cheeks as his eyes flit across their faces. As an adult, his words held power, allowing him to follow through plans with ease. As a child, though? It seems they still respected what he had to say to some extent.

(They were waiting to see if he would make any more cute sounds).

"Listen," Cale says seriously, "This is important. I know what caused it!"

(Rosalyn looked close to bursting a vein at how hard she was trying to hold back a squeal. Her lips formed into a wobbly line as she listened closely).

"Look," Cale focused as he raised his index figure. It takes a couple of tries before he gets it alone, but when he does, Cale holds it out for them to see.

"Right here, I was cut by the book," Cale glances at each of their faces as he shows it to them.

On his finger was a thin scab. It was barely visible, but if they leaned in, they should be able to see it. Good, it looks like they were listening intently! He would finally get his point across and then they'd be able to rush him back to the library to find the book!

(They were not, in fact, getting it. Not at all).

Since Ron was the closest with how Cale was sitting comfortably on his hip, Cale showed him from a closer distance. Hope filled him as he waited for the old man to understand, patiently holding his finger out until he did.

(He was shoving his whole hand in Ron's face).

What happens next is, to put it one way, highly offensive. To Cale, at least. Something seems to click in Ron's mind after having been frozen in thought for a moment. This was when Cale had excitedly thought that the man had understood him.

Crows feet curling and wrinkling at the corners of his eyes, the fond smile returning to grace his lips. Ron gently took Cale's proffered hand into his and brought it closer to inspect it. The tiny digit that stood tall was taken hostage between the butler's teeth in a light bite. In doing so, Ron made an exaggerated chomping noise.

"What the fuck?" Cale was too shocked to pull away, his eyes wide as his mouth opens and closes without another word.

The flush returns full force as the offended stare was wiped away to be replaced. Cale was at a loss of words. What the fuck?? What was Ron doing?

"No! You dumb man! Look!" Cale raised his voice, pulling his finger free to show Ron again.

This only led to his finger getting bitten again and again. Cale doesn't bother to hold his hand out to Ron again after that, instead, cradling his hands in his chest so that the man would stop pretending to eat them. A chuckle rumbles through Ron's chest at this. He was clearly enjoying this.

To his dismay, Ron turns to look for the mitten and finds it right behind him. Cale really should have thrown it further because now his hand was being covered by it again. He's lost his chance to try showing Eruhaben and Rosalyn, but he's not sure he wanted to anymore. The chances of then pulling something as embarrassing as what Ron did were too high. He will just have to figure out a different way to tell them.

"Are either one of you able to sense what might have caused this?" Ron asks as if he hasn't just pulled the most embarrassing thing in Cale's life.

Rosalyn coughs and shakes her head, "No… I don't think mana was involved in this. I can't sense anything, but maybe Sir Eruhaben will be able to?"

The dragon's lips pressed into a thin line as he observed the baby. From this distance, he could tell there was something there, but it was too faint to be sure.

"Let me see him," Eruhaben held out his hands for Ron to pass Cale over, "There's something… but its traces are so faint that it's hard to tell even from this short distance."

And Cale eagerly goes. Leaning forwards and away from Ron, he holds his arms out towards the dragon to be held. Cheeks puffing out in annoyance, Cale hopes that he'll be passed over to the other man faster. The misunderstanding has put a damper to his mood yet again, but hopefully, Eruhaben will be able to figure something out. Long, slender fingers wrap around his middle just under his arms and then he's dangling again. Eruhaben doesn't sit him on his hip!

"What're you doing?" Cale asks, narrowing his eyes when they meet gold.

Up close, he can see how the slitted pupils were now round, almost completely taking over the ring of gold. Maybe this should have been a warning sign, but Cale merely returned the dragon's stare. A crease appears between Eruhaben's brow with how they pinch together. It's like he was trying to piece together what he was sensing, the words to describe it just on the tip of his tongue. Cale blinks, quietly waiting for his evaluation, but then he's being brought closer until those handsome features are right in front of him. One sniff, and then a second. He doesn't stink though? Cale tilts his head as he tries to figure out what the dragon was doing, but just as he does so, Eruhaben buries his nose into the crease of his neck.

Startled, Cale lets out a high-pitched squeak before it all devolves into a fit of laughter. It's a belly laugh that he can't stop, his mitted hands pushing at the mana face to push him away. Cale was mortified! But it tickles so much! In an attempt to decrease contact, Cale scrunches his neck, his shoulders rising up to block everything. Of course, it doesn't help much. It feels like forever before Eruhaben stops, the giggling leaving him breathless, but once he does catch his breath, Cale swats at the dragon's face.

"Are you a pervert or something??" He makes another swat.

(A strange giddy feeling flutters inside of Eruhaben's chest as he watches the boy release a content sigh).

To their side, Rosalyn lets out a small laugh, tearing Cale's attention to the other two people in the room. In her hands was a recording device.

Horrified, Cale kicks his legs and shouts, "DELETE IT!"

Shifting his focus has left him defenseless for another attack. A loud squeal escapes him this time.

"I believe an ancient spell or curse is the cause of this," Eruhaben says matter of factly, nonchalantly adjusting his hold on Cale so that he sits in one arm. The damn dragon is acting like he didn't just tickle the ever loving fuck out of him because he apparently needed to smell whatever the fuck was causing this.

Reaching up, Cale tries to grab at the long, golden locks. They slip out between the measly grip he's able to do with the mittens on. Using two hands this time, Cale does the first thing he can think of: shove the hair into his mouth.

"Take this, Eruhaben," Cale lets out a triumphant laugh, muffled by the mittens and hair.

Gloved hands carefully remove the locks and then separate him from the slobber covered dragon. He's being held out with his front facing both Eruhaben and Rosalyn, a little lower - probably around the torso height of the butler.

"Young master, no. No eating hair, it's rude and dirty," Ron chides him, his voice stern and unwavering.

Looking up at Ron, Cale feels like a scruffed kitten, properly scolded. Ron isn't smiling like he was before and the sight would have scared him as an adult, but now it only saddens him.

"It wasn't my fault," Cale's voice is soft, wobbling a little at the end, "Are you mad?"

(Reddish brown eyes look up to him, the baby's lips settling into another pout. At this point, Cale's signature blank look might just be replaced by this.

Cale lets out a sad "aaaaoowww" from where he's dangling).

Ron sighs, carefully flipping the boy around in his hold before placing him on his shoulder. Cale was a bit of a crybaby at this age.

"My apologies, Sir Eruhaben," Ron sighs again, "I'm not quite sure why he's fussy at this point."

Flicking his wrist, Eruhaben's appearance returns to how it was, pristine and ethereal as though nothing had happened. "It's alright, babies don't know any better."

(Both Rosalyn and Ron notice how Eruhaben looks a bit happy with the interaction, but Cale is too busy giving him the stink eye).

Cale snuffles against Ron's shoulder, a quiet sound that all three of them catch.

"Do you think that he might be teething soon?" Rosalyn purses his lips, bringing a finger up to tap at her chin in thought.

Ron hums thoughtfully at this, "That might be so. I'll be sure to check."

Cales right hand is being held captive by the butler so that he can't try anything again. It works because he needed to use both hands anyway, so Cale resigns himself to being a listener in their conversation.

-

Cale listlessly watched from over Ron’s shoulder, idly tracking each door frame and window they passed. They’d just left the office, leaving the mage and ancient dragon to discuss among themselves. Rosalyn and Eruhaben had decided to begin their research immediately, freshly motivated after seeing him. He’d have to harass the older woman into deleting the recordings once he’s back to normal.

“Young master,” Ron called out to him. His steps are slower than his usual gait.

“Mmm?” Cale backed away to look at the man.

Ron’s voice is calm as he explains, “You cannot put hair into your mouth, young master, that wasn’t very nice of you. If you want something, I’ll get something for you.”

Cale was a bit confused at this and it was very apparent on his face because a small smile crept across the butler’s face.

“What am I to do with you?” Ron’s voice is soft, oozing with a warm fondness. It’s oddly reassuring to see that the man wasn’t actually mad at him, but Cale wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to him.

Chapter Text

Leaving the room, Cale expected the children to come bounding up to them to pick up where they had left off, pleading for a chance to play with him. He’s not sure if it's a stroke of luck, but it seems like they aren’t home. Don’t get him wrong, he would love to play with them, but at that moment, they reminded him a bit of those big, hyper dogs that kept trying to jump on anyone.

“It seems that Vicross has taken the children out to the market,” Ron says, reading over a note that had been left on the table.

Ron, the traitor that he is, must have planned to bring him to the kids after their meeting. Since they were out, Cale was being brought back to his bedroom instead. Cale slumps against the man’s shoulder - there isn’t much to do as a baby since he can’t exactly walk yet. Not that he minds though, being carried around is actually pretty comfortable and Cale had gotten used to it almost immediately. What helped was how Ron seemed to know exactly what he wanted most of the time… that reminds him. Ron didn’t understand what he was trying to tell them!!

“How could you bite my fingers??” Cale asked, his tone just on the cusp of accusing, “I clearly showed you the cut, so what the hell crossed your mind that made you even think to do that? That was embarrassing!!”

His rant didn’t even faze the butler, who only reached up to swipe at his mouth with a handkerchief. Damn it, that meant he was drooling again. No matter how he moved to evade the man’s hand, there was only so much he could do while being carried. The blows he delivers to Ron’s shoulder are brushed off as if they were nothing!

(They really were nothing because Cale was only lightly smacking at Ron’s shoulder).

Whenever Cale hit one too many times, Ron would end up holding his hand, but not without a soft chide of “Young master, no hitting.”

This time, both of his hands were being held in Ron’s bigger one.

“Let go,” Cale demanded, trying to wiggle his hands free. In his opinion, he hadn’t done anything that warranted being restrained like this!!

(Cale kept switching hands to swat at Ron),

If anything… Ron deserved it after that whole ordeal. The grip is firm enough to stop him, but not too tight that it hurts. Cale smirked inwards to himself, proud of the plan his mind has helpfully pieced together. He melted even more into the butler’s arms, resting his head against the smooth fabric that covered Ron’s shoulder. Theoretically, this would make the man lower his guard and release Cale’s hands. Ron doesn’t act according to his calculations though, perfectly content with their current state as they approach Cale’s bedroom.

“You left me no choice, Ron,” Cale narrowed his eyes, the bridge of his nose wrinkling as he glared at the man.

Bringing his head closer to the gloved hand, Cale clamped his mouth down around one of the fingers, absolutely soaking the fabric in doing so. The drool that he was so annoyed about was now a weapon to be used.

“Take that!” Cale’s words are muffled and completely unintelligible.

This doesn't hinder the man at all. If anything, Ron simply raises a brow with a light, pensive hum. Ron pulls his hand away from Cale's grip, bringing it together with the other to slip the glove off. Cale watched smugly as the hand returned, looking between it and its owner's face.

"Are you teething?" Ron asks, more to himself than to Cale.

The door to his bedroom opens with a soft clack and for the first time, Cale notices all the bags cluttering the corner. They hadn't been there before they'd left for the capitol, he's sure of it. Cale had managed to sleep through most of the days that passed between the beginning of the incident to now. His sleep was incredibly refreshing, but he had no idea when those had arrived. It was as though he were losing time, completely out of the loop for anything that goes on around him. A small frown marrs his features, his cheeks puffing out with his displeasure. Their lives have been peaceful without the constant threat that White Star held over their heads, but Cale liked to be safe. But with his body like this, he wouldn't be able to do anything if something were to happen. His friends and allies were capable on their own, but he wanted to be prepared for anything.

With his knowledge and records, Cale is able to predict and react to things, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

Cale is set down on the plush bed with pillows surrounding him to help him sit up. He sinks into the softness, fully ready to spend the day rolling around comfortably. Ron could leave him like this and he wouldn't even bother to move. After his eyes slip shut, he feels two hands squish his cheeks.

"What?" Cale grumbled, trying to shove them away.

With two thumbs, Ron pries Cale's mouth open and it's only then that the baby opens his eyes. The bridge of the baby's nose wrinkles in offense as Ron observes the two rows of pink gums. Mitted hands paw at the butler's own, whacking at them again and again to show his annoyance.

"Wha da fa! Ro!! EGGO!!" Cale's shouts came out garbled as he tried to wiggle away.

(What the fuck! Ron! Let go!)

Ron pursed his lips, "Your teeth haven't begun to cut through yet…"

Cale kicks at the butler's face, but Ron is all too aware of his tendencies, so he keeps himself just far enough out of reach.

"Ro, ou ucking as-arr !!"

(Ron, you fucking bastard!!)

The fingers retreat, but not without a swipe of a handkerchief that follows right behind it. His face is left ruddy as he huffed out his annoyance, his brows pinching in deeply.

Soft thumps filled the room as Cale whacked at the pillows around him, his eyes never failing to follow the man as he moved about the room. Ron had the nerve. What's next? Shoving fingers in Cale's mouth? Cale didn't let his guard down, glaring darkly at the man's back. Ron knelt in front of the many bags in the corner, rummaging through them to find something. The soft rustling of the paper bags only added to the unnecessary suspense.

"Here they are," Ron says softly. Cale can't see what he pulled out, but he can hear the sound of some sort of packaging being ripped open.

The boy squints warily at him when he turns back and approaches. His lips pressed into a tight pout that caused his cheeks to round out even more. It's a weak attempt to stop Ron from pulling what he did again, but they both knew it wouldn't help. Ron's eyes are filled with mirth as a soft, low chuckle escapes him. Cale's mouth is opened once more with a light squeeze to his cheeks from one hand, and then a pacifier is slipped in.

???

Cale blinks, completely dumbfounded. His stupid baby body begins to suck at the thing before he's able to completely process what had happened.

"I'M NOT A BABY, I DON'T NEED THIS!" He spits it out onto the covers.

Ron clicks his tongue softly, wiping the end with his newly gloved hands - when did he have the time to put them on?? And then it's being shoved back into Cale's mouth.

"DON'T TRY TO SILENCE ME!" Cale hisses out around it, "YOU THINK THIS CAN STOP ME?"

Tugging on his legs, Ron slides him down onto his back, leaving a palm on the baby's stomach to keep him from rolling to his front. His other hand is holding the pacifier in Cale's mouth with a soft pressure that only served to stop him from his attempts to spit it out. The stupid thing is way more calming than it should be and his dumb baby body won't stop sucking on it. Ron begins to pat his tummy, creating a slow, spaced out beat.

(The young master is fighting against sleep so hard, flailing his limbs into the plush pillows. But the moment his eyes slip close, all the fight drains from his little body).

"How cute, you didn't want to take it at first, but now…" Ron lets his words trail off, tugging on the pacifier lightly. The baby bites down on it to prevent Ron from taking it away and turns his head a bit to the side.

(The young master falls asleep easily with a few pats… he really does love to sleep).

-

There's a soft whisper of chatter when he wakes up and a brush of fur against his skin. Sometimes, the naps Ron enforces leave his mind bleary when he wakes up. It takes a while for Cale to figure out where he is and what's happening.

The fabric of the mittens aren't scratchy against his skin when he rubs his eyes, not that his usual clothing was. Cale stretches out his limbs with a soft yawn, accidentally dropping the pacifier as he does so. He doesn’t remember wearing this outfit before falling asleep. The mittens seem to be a new constant in whatever Ron dresses him in, but now he’s wearing some sort of white one piece that had short sleeves and no shorts. As annoying as they are, he’s gotten used to wearing mittens. What’s more offensive is the yellow bandana that was tied around his neck, the cloth covered in little orange suns that matched the hems on the one piece.

Cale swings a leg across his body, gaining momentum to roll over. His foot makes contact with Raon though, “Sorry, that was my fault.”

The dragon’s eyes sparkle as he rubs at the spot Cale had kicked, “Human! Our tiny human is so strong!! He’s as strong as one of my hairs if I had hair!”

“That… that’s not strong at all,” Cale says, successfully turning over. It takes a lot of effort to do so, but now he can clearly see around the room.

Ohn, Hong, and Raon are crowded around him, sticking closely by his side. It's clear that they hadn't been sleeping like he had though, their eyes too bright and clear. Maybe they just returned from wherever Vicross had taken them?

"Did you have fun?" He asks, reaching out to pat Raon's head. It's a clunky movement that is nothing like what they're both used to, but Raon enjoys it nonetheless.

A smile blooms across the dragon's face, changing from a small curve into a beaming, toothy grin. Cale isn't able to feel the cool, smooth scales under his palm, but he is able to feel how Raon presses his round head into the touch even more. Half of the petting ends with Cale's mitten clad hand accidentally swiping over an eye. When this happens, Raon patiently closes both of his eyes and smiles.

"Me too! Cale-nya, pat me, too!" Hong chirps, butting his head against the back of his other hand.

Hong brushes the flank of his body against Cale, his tail dancing before the tip of it tickles against his nose. The red kitten loved to brush against him, having Cale hold out his hand while he got as much petting as he wanted. It's not the same with the mittens on though. Cale can't feel the fleecy tufts under his fingers and Hong can't get the same feeling as when Cale lightly rakes his nails through his fur. They share the same disappointment at the realization.

"Take it off," Cale holds his hand out in front of Hong's nose.

They stare at each other, the red kitten blinking curiously while Cale waits for him to understand. He can almost see the lightbulb flash behind Hong's eyes.

"Oh! You want me to take them off?" Hong tilts his head in question.

A cheeky grin spreads across Cale's face and he brings his hands together in a disappointing clap, "Yes. Finally, someone understands me!"

Cale nods for good measure and then there's teeth lightly pinching into the fabric, not even scraping against him once. Hong is careful to keep his sharp fangs away from Cale's skin, slowly pulling the cloth off after finding a safe spot to hold onto. The mittens lay discarded on the floor after Cale chucks them over the edge. He holds his hand out again and Hong perks up, his entire body rumbling with his uncontrollable purrs as he rubbed his head against the small fingers. Once satisfied, Hong plods over to nestle next to his brother.

Reddish brown eyes meet gold, prompting Ohn to come over. She had waited patiently for her turn, neatly tucked into a loaf to watch her brothers. Now that they were done, the gray kitten stood up, her body leaning forwards as she stretched her hind legs. She ambles over, gracefully draping herself across his lap.

"Cale-nya," Ohn tilts her head back to look up at him, "We got you a present while we were out with uncle Vicross!"

"Yeah! Our youngest saw it and thought you needed it!" Hong added in, perching on one of the pillows.

It wasn't new for the kids to bring back little gifts for him. They'd bring him trinkets and jewelry that reminded them of him, from ruby studded broches to toy shields. If not bought goods, then they'd pick flowers and acorns, or maybe scour the ground for the perfect rock or pinecone. Cale kept the flowers neatly pressed in a book, its pages nearly completely filled with dried petals. As for the others, the rocks had their own separate jar, whereas the acorns and pinecones shared one. Ohn had lovingly tied a ribbon around each one of them. Their gift giving has become a normal happening that Cale has come to expect, but today, they seem way more excited than usual.

"What did you bring?" Cale asks, his question coming out as more of a gurgled hum. Both Hong and Raon mimic the way he tilts his head with wide grins.

"Stay right there! You have to close your eyes, too!" Raon puts his own eyes with his paws to demonstrate. It's a cute action, but… Cale understands what's being said…. Plus, it's not like he would be able to walk away either, but Ohn stays on his lap "just in case."

Either way, Cale covers his eyes just as Raon said to, waiting to see what they brought back. The sheets rustle as they slide off of the bed, there's a sound of feet pad against the floor and then a clicking of the door. Whatever they brought back, Cale can tell that they're completely proud of themselves for it with how they giggle and whisper between themselves. Ohn is perfectly content in the simple contact, her tail slowly swishing across the covers. It brushes against his leg with every other swipe like delicate dandelion fluffs against his skin.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now!" The boys chirruped, their words perfectly in sync.

In front of him was a red stuffed bear sewn from soft minky fabric. The inside of the ears, the snout, and the bottoms of each paw are made up of a light pink fabric. Cale has never had a stuffed animal before and as an adult, he never found the need to find out what made them so special. But even then, he couldn't stop from carefully reaching out to touch it. Leaning over Ohn, Cale gingerly brushes his fingers against the fabric. All three of the children watch with their eyes gleaming in anticipation, waiting for his reaction.

(And Cale's own reddish brown eyes were like glittering gemstones, full of wonder as he squished and patted at the bear).

"Do you like it, human?"

In lieu of an answer, Cale buries his face into the plush bear, bringing it closer to him in a hug. Ohn didn't seem to mind being used as a table for the bear, watching from where she laid across his lap on her side. The size of the bear was larger than Cale, making it easy for both him and Ohn to hide behind it. If they hadn't known that the two were there, they'd probably assume that the bear was left propped up in a sitting position.

The gratefulness that he feels is shy and soft, curling in his chest like the folding leaves of a mimosa plant. It's not an uncomfortable feeling, but it's something that he could get used to. Turning his head, Cale peeks out at them with a smile, his cheeks rounding out even more.

"Thank you."

-

With the kids playing with the young master, Ron used this chance to fully unpack and organize everything. The floor in the corner of the room was barely visible under the numerous bags and boxes. Perhaps he went a bit overboard while shopping.

The young master didn't seem to enjoy the outfits he had picked out even though they suited him well. One by one, Ron pulled each item out, folding them neatly into piles. He made sure to keep watch over the children as well in case they needed help with anything or if the baby began to cry. His worries were unneeded with how mild tempered Cale was, the young master was easy to please unlike when he was younger. The only times he would fuss were when he was tired, when he was hungry, or when he needed to be changed. Though, so far Cale has hardly been awake through any of the times he had an accident.

(Cale would honestly find a way to throw himself out the window if he ever had to be conscious during that. Somehow, the entire ordeal has slipped his mind, but blame that on the baby attention span).

Cale's wardrobe consisted of simple, yet elegant clothes that were usually black or white in color. The few splashes of color were pieces that the countess had insisted he wear. Ron could clearly remember the slight grimace the red haired man had made when he was forced to wear something more elaborate and vibrant. Thinking about it, Ron can't exactly pinpoint what had caused Cale to switch from his usual fancy clothes to a selection of blacks and whites. The absence of color made the baby clothes stand out even more in the wooden closet. The young master will surely hate this. Ron could stop the sly grin that snuck onto his face, neatly tucking the clothing away into the closet.

Since Cale was within the six month age range, his teeth would surely come in soon. The young master had been inconsolable when his teeth were first starting to cut in, tearfully gnawing on anything he could get his little hands on. Ron pulled out various toys from a bag, each one safe for babies to place into their mouths. Hopefully, the young master won't be in too much pain this time, but only time can tell.

Chapter Text

Today will be the day. Cale would make sure of it– he'll finally get the message across.

The night before, he had spent his time rolling around in the makeshift bed Ron had created for him. The pillows he would usually lay his head on and hug were now used as walls once again to prevent him from falling off the bed. Not that he would do that, but the old butler was a worry wart. Sleep hadn't come to sweep him under immediately like the previous times, allowing him the chance to pull together a plan. Cale held out his hands in front of his face, deep in thought as he observed his too small hands. Ron had left him alone in his bedroom, gently brushing Cale's long bangs from his face before leaving. Judging from the small amount of light washing across the ceiling, the butler must have left the door open a crack. Ron hadn't forgotten to replace the pacifier in his mouth either, not that Cale needed it.

(He doesn't need it!

But he doesn't get rid of it either…)

There was no way in hell that he would be left alone during the day. Knowing his family, they'd make up excuses to stick by his side. Their coos and awwing hadn't gone unnoticed by him, dyeing his face red with mortification. He was grown, god damn it, stop doing the weird baby wave!!

Even with this change, everyone still had their jobs and routine to follow through with. That being said, Ron would be forced to fulfill his duties, leaving him with the children! As grateful Cale was to the man, the odds of Ron somehow derailing his communication attempts were too high.

Tomorrow, he would…..

Cale falls asleep before finishing his thought, his limbs that were waving around with each step of the plan are now laid down against the plush pillows. Slowly, the door nudged open further as Ron walked in. Although more light began to flood into the room, Cale showed no signs of waking. The red haired baby sleeps soundly with his arms raised up by his head and a foot propped on a pillow.

He had come to check if the young master was having trouble falling asleep, but it seems that he was worried for nothing. After putting the baby down, he and the others had been holding a quiet discussion in an adjacent room. They spoke softly, listening to the nonstop babble that emerged from the bedroom.

"It seems that young master Cale was having a meeting of his own," Rosalyn chuckled, bringing a hand up to cover her grin.

Looking around the room, everyone had their own smiles on their faces, completely endeared by the man they chose to follow. With it only nearing 9 o'clock, everyone had yet to begin preparing for bed themselves. Originally, Ron had been a bit worried that Cale would still maintain his ghastly bedtime schedules even in this new, young body. It wouldn't be good for his growth and overall health at all. Lucky, though, Cale's young body has a nice, healthy internal clock that forces him to sleep.

Both the mage and the ancient dragon had been put off by whatever magic or trap that changed Cale into a baby. With how secure the palace's library was, there was no way for anyone to sneak in. Especially with the Molran patriarch himself guarding the only door and the windows being laced with magic. Cale hadn't gone anywhere out of the ordinary that day either, but he did come in contact with a few people while traveling between the Prince's office and the library. The bigger issue at hand was the question of: was this a part of a bigger scheme? The first step in it being to weaken Cale Henituse and the next being a possible assassination or kidnapping attempt? There was no way to be sure. Eruhaben had confirmed that some sort of ancient magic was involved, but it wouldn't be too surprising if there were gods meddling. From the beginning, Eruhaben would always refer to Cale as an "unlucky bastard" and Ron found himself agreeing with that sentiment more and more each day.

With the young master asleep, Ron could now take care of his other tasks.

-

Cale wakes up in a crib instead of the fortress of pillows he was placed in the night before. It's disorienting how deeply he sleeps as a baby with how he could wake up in a different place, but at the same time, it's refreshing. Is this that magical feeling of falling asleep in a car and being carried to bed? He's overheard people talking about it multiple times in his previous life, but he couldn't remember ever experiencing it. It's… nice. It's really nice.

Rolling over, Cale crawled over to the bars of the crib to look at the door. Soft lighting filtered through the curtains, a huge difference from the usual harsh brightness he was used to waking up to. He woke up early in the morning, or at least earlier than he would normally. Without the usual drowsiness, too, making him bright eyed and fully awake. Ron hadn't put any mittens on his hands before putting him to bed! Wrapping his fingers around the bars, Cale slowly pulled himself up to stand. His knees wobbled under his weight, nearly making him fall back onto his butt, but he managed to stand. There’s a faint shuffling from the other side of the door and the chirping of birds, but otherwise, the entire house was quiet. It must still be too early for the others to be awake. Other than the two Molrans, Hans, Choi Han, and Eruhaben, the rest of them were late to rise. Knowing this, it’s most likely Ron milling about on the other side of the door, doing some sort of work.

“Ron?” Cale called out, the slight buckling in his knees making it seem like he’s about to start bouncing while holding onto the bars. He will not, thank you very much, he’s not a child.

The shuffling stops and soon after, the sound of footsteps approach the door, “Have you woken up?”

Light floods the room when Ron flicks the switch, forcing Cale to squint his eyes to see the man. Clumsily, he rubs at his eyes, grimacing lightly at the gunk that smears onto his hands with the first pass. God, why were babies so gross? What did he do in his sleep to get like this?? Ron, as attentive as ever, takes notice of this, bringing him into the bathroom to wet a hand towel, and wipe his face and hands. Before doing so, he does actually take away the pacifier- rude.

By the time they leave the room, Cale’s face is a red mess that nearly matches his hair. His fists bat at the butler’s shoulder, but Ron pays him no mind, humming softly while walking down the hallway.

“That was so embarrassing,” Cale grits out, his glare is sharp… or as sharp as it can be, “I hate you.”

(He was changed and he was awake during it).

Today, he was definitely going to get his damn message across. He couldn’t handle this embarrassment any longer.

Crows’ feet form from the corners of Ron’s eyes as he peered down at the baby in his arms, “You’re quite chatty right after waking up, aren’t you? Did you sleep that well?”

“Yes, but that isn’t the point!!” He yelled, scrunching his hands into the faultless suit fabric, “We need to head back to the library, but you aren’t understanding it! There’s no way to tell what will happen if I’m stuck in this form for too long, we both know that, so why are we playing babysitter?!”

Cale’s rant is cut off with a soft tut and a pacifier being pushed into his mouth, “Young master, the others are still asleep, you mustn’t shout.” Ron’s tone is stern, but his voice is just above a whisper. Cale wants to retort, but Ron is right- he might wake everyone up.

Ron smooths a gloved hand down the locks of red hair, sighing to himself when they spring back up the moment his hand leaves. Even after having wet the strands in the bathroom, Cale’s bedhead refused to listen. His hair was just as stubborn as their owner.

Sighing, Ron patted the boy’s back softly, “Are you hungry? It’s still a bit early so Vicross hasn’t finished preparing breakfast yet, but we could go get you a bottle.”

He wasn’t too hungry yet, but Cale wasn’t all against it because he would rather drink the milk than deal with the nasty stomach cramps again. With one arm wrapped around the butler’s shoulder, Cale raised the other one into the air to point in the direction of the kitchen. He’s perfectly capable of spitting out the rubber dummy, but trying to speak sounds like a whole lot of effort. This is enough. Ron will get it.

“Alright, alright, understood,” Ron chuckled. It’s a weird feeling- the subtle jostling that comes with laughter. The last time he felt it was probably with Lee Soo Hyuk and Choi Jung Soo.

(Choi Jung Soo, that bastard, had hooked his arms around both Kim Roksu’s and the team captain’s necks, tugging them into a vaguely uncomfortable hug-headlock.

Both him and Lee Soo Hyuk had been caught off guard by it, easily getting dragged down by the abrupt weight.

And Choi Jung Soo, he was laughing. A cheeky snicker in celebration of successfully sneaking up and surprising the both of them. The sound of his laughter right up against Roksu’s ear and radiating from the man’s chest).

Cale pressed a hand against Ron’s chest, idly sucking at the pacifier before deciding to duck in to press his ear against it instead. Ron’s laugh was only a momentary thing, but Cale could hear the steady beat of his heart.

“What are you up to?” The butler asked, poking at Cale's cheek. Not being able to explain himself or his sudden actions, Cale heaved a heavy sigh, shifting to rest his head on Ron’s shoulder instead. Ron laughed at this, “What’s wrong? What could possibly have our little young master sighing like this?”

Ignoring the questions, Cale closed his eyes, letting the butler carry him off to the kitchen. He doesn’t understand it himself.

(Sometimes the baby will be so deep in thought. Although Ron knew that Cale was an adult trapped in a child's body, he couldn't help but want to spoil him. After all, this was the man who had saved him and this was the man who helped him finally achieve his revenge.

Sometimes Cale looks distant- which is all the more alarming to see on the face of a baby).

-

Vicross' kitchen isn't a bustling mess of people like the one back at the estate. There was no rushing worker to slip post or excess buzz of noise. It was only Vicross and the chef enjoyed it that way. Every morning, he would wake up just as the first light of day began to lick across the dewy grass, their home quiet as can be. Soon enough, he would make his way to the kitchen, pulling out all sorts of ingredients to begin preparing for breakfast. With only the white noise of cooking, Vicross was content with being the only one in the kitchen.

He knew that his father always woke around the same time, but he wouldn't come to meet Vicross until a little while later. His father has the young master to attend to, and with the red haired man being late to rise, his father took care of other minor chores in the meantime.

Knowing this, Vicross was surprised to see both his father and the little young master joining him early. Strolling through the door, his father held the small Cale Henituse in his arms. Cale's hair stuck out in all sorts of directions, bobbing up and down with each of the butler's steps like flickering flames. Today, he was dressed in a snap crotch onesie that was covered in tiny paw prints. It was quite plain compared to what his father enjoyed dressing the young master in. Cale's cheek was pressed against the black fabric covering the butler's shoulder, looking similar to a freshly kneaded mound of dough.

"The young master is hungry?" Vicross asked, his voice coming out rough from not speaking. With him being the only one in the kitchen, there was no need to speak. Vicross liked to work in silence.

His father makes an affirming hum at this, moving around the kitchen to gather all the necessary items for preparing a bottle. Vicross frowned, he wasn't prepared for cooking meals for a baby. He needed to do more research on what the young master should and shouldn't eat. For the time being, he would be forced to feed Cale something plain like rice gruel. The frown shifted into a deeper grimace, he wanted the young master to eat well. Perhaps a rich soup will be a good choice.

In Ron's arms, Cale watches as powder is scooped and poured into a bottle with hot water. The butler doesn't give the container a second glance, already having memorized the amounts needed. Ron was a professional through and through, whether it be his tasks as an assassin or as a caretaker, the man did everything efficiently.

(Right now, Cale was grateful for that efficiency because smelling all the aromatic dishes Vicross was preparing had made the hunger set in.

As an adult … he is grateful for the man's skills, but holy shit, they are terrifying).

Capping the bottle, Ron twists the lid close before placing a finger at the tip and shaking it. Cale waited patiently as the temperature was checked, huffing a sigh when it was apparently too hot.

"Be good and wait, alright? Our young master has been so patient, but he only needs to wait a short while longer," Ron says, placing it down onto the counter before turning his attention to the baby.

(Cale doesn't seem to know that his disappointment was actually visible on his face. His usual stony composure must have been hidden away after changing).

"Can you wait?" A gloved finger bopped him on the nose.

Glaring, Cale swatted at the hand, "I'm not a baby. Obviously I can wait."

Ron continued to walk him around the kitchen, lightly bouncing him in his arms as if he was in need of soothing. He took Cale to stand a short distance away from the chef stationed by the stove. Cale didn't miss the way Vicross kept looking up at them from the corner of his eye.

Performance anxiety?

(Vicross was thinking about how small the young master was and how he needed to eat more so he could grow up faster).

Cale didn't put too much thought into it since he knew he would be pulled away back to the bottle soon. Whatever the chef was thinking, it wasn't his problem. Cale swatted at Ron's hand again, the reason this time being that the man kept poking and prodding at his sides. Soon enough, he was being readjusted in Ron's hold so that he was cradled in the butler's arms instead. Ron was being rather annoying today.

(Ron's eyes curled in delight, completely entertained by the way Cale would kick at him. Even after stopping his poking, Cale's brows were still drawn in close with a wrinkle between them. This small baby was holding a grudge!)

-

Today, as predicted, Cale was left under the watch of Eruhaben. Ron wasn't behind in his duties, but the ancient dragon had squinted at the salt and pepper haired man and sent him on his way.

Of course Ohn, Hong, and Raon enthusiastically joined them. Cale grinned behind the pacifier- this only increased his chances of getting his message across! Ohn, the smart girl, had suggested they have a calm day instead of trying to drag him around in their energetic games. Boxes of crayons were pulled out, their containers clearly showing how often they were used with all the tears and creases and smudges. While they were all sprawled out on the hardwood floor, Eruhaben elegantly sat on the loveseat. He leafed through a book that he fished out from a nearby shelf using magic, periodically glancing up to check in on them. A wide array of colors were spread out before the four of them, rolling away after Hong had flipped the box over to make it easier for all of them to grab at them.

Crawling over, he plopped down between Ohn and Raon. Cale grabbed a sheet of paper from the pile, or he tried to. Light blue construction paper wrinkled under his fingers because he accidentally scrunched his hand into a fist while holding it.

"Human, do you want to draw, too?" Raon asked. His glittering blue eyes clearly excited that he was joining them.

With one small nod, the kids began to sort out the best, least broken crayons for him to use. The wrinkled paper in front of him was ready.

"We… need… to… go… back…" He spoke slowly as he wrote, his words coming out weirdly around the rubber.

But his hands were too weak. Each drag of the crayon was wobbly at best, light in some areas and dark in others. Cale had little control in his writing.

Hong scooted over to sit right beside him, "Ooh, Cale-nya are you drawing a tree?" The boy titled his head in question.

No!

Cale smacked at the paper, wrinkling it even more with each hit. “Read it! Read my message!!” Cale urged, picking it up to hold it closer to their faces.

“Maybe it's a person?" Raon came closer, tilting his head and squinting his eyes at the sheet.

"No! No it's not!!" Cale dramatically collapsed onto the floor with a wail. The frustration became too much for him all too quickly, forcing tears to his eyes. As soon as they came, his tears stopped. How embarrassing, these must be the legendary crocodile tears. Cale rubbed at his face, smearing the tears across his cheeks. Ohn, who hadn't said a thing, carefully pulled him into her lap for a hug.

"Hong used to be this small," she said, looking down at the red haired baby, "He was stinkier and fussier though. It was hard to hold him, but Cale-nya is so easy to hold."

"Hey!" Hong's fluffy ears stood straight up at the mention of his name, "I'm not stinky!!"

Ohn only raises a brow at this. "And who came home the other day covered in mud, refusing to take a bath?"

Hong looked away sheepishly, his cheeks flushing red at the memory. He had dug around in the gardens that day, plucking a whole bunch of daffodils out, bulb and all, to give to Cale. Hans had chased him around the villa trying to convince him to take a bath, and the boy had only agreed once he was asked by Cale.

“I thought so,” Ohn huffed, her tone without an ounce of malice.

Although it wasn’t as comfortable as when one of the adults held him, Cale found that it wasn’t too bad being held by Ohn. She knew what she was doing and it made him wonder how much of the responsibilities fell onto her before they’d met him. Wherever Ohn went, Hong was sure to follow, and wherever Hong went, Ohn was right there by his side. Of course, they had Raon with them as well.

Eventually, Cale was put back onto the ground beside her so that she could go back to her drawing, but not without a gentle ruffle of his hair and a smile.

(What Cale doesn’t notice is the fact that they were mimicking him, giving him the same loving treatment they received back to him).

Cale was ready to try again.

Carefully, he dragged a yellow crayon across a new sheet, keeping his hand as steady as he could so that hopefully it would be understood this time. “Book.”

It was messy, but he was able to read it! Holding it and getting over to show Eruhaben might be an issue.

“Eruhaben!! Look ! Look at this!” Cale waved his hands while holding the paper in one of them, effectively catching the golden haired man’s attention.

Eruhaben’s expression morphed from something nonchalant to a wobbling grin that he was seemingly trying to hold back. “Did you draw me?”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

He had made a blunder. Cale had fumbled this chance. He held the sheet up horizontally instead of vertically and he’d chosen the color yellow. Now the old dragon was puffing up with pride for no reason. Eruhaben lifted Cale into his arms before holding the page out with his right hand, admiring the apparent portrait. The children had gathered around them, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at his “art.”

“A magnificent portrait,” The ancient dragon’s lips pulled into a smile, “Of course, a great dragon such as I will keep this.”

Cale groaned around the pacifier, which only pulled another response from the dragon, “Don’t be embarrassed, I love it.”

Cale decided that maybe both Ron and Eruhaben were lost causes. He would have to find someone else to attempt communication with.

Chapter Text

Cale scowled as he watched the ancient dragon practically glow with joy as he stared at the sheet in his hand. Eruhaben had returned him to the floor to continue drawing with the kids, which was only adding to his building frustration.

The lack of patience was probably one of the worst parts about being stuck like this. Sure, being unable to communicate was an annoyance on its own, but being unable to handle the frustration was... horrible. At a mere inconvenience, tears would well up in his eyes and his throat would clog up with the want to cry or at least whimper. Cale wasn't one to readily show his emotions, usually keeping them in check behind a neat, blank expression. Now, though, all of them bled through to the surface within seconds, completely blown out of proportion for no reason. Even thinking about it was starting to overwhelm him.

Cale's bottom lip trembled as he reached for another sheet and crayon.

If they didn't understand him this time, then he wasn't sure his stupid baby emotions would be able to handle it. Cale made sure to pick a color that wasn't shared with anyone in the room. A dark brown crayon, sluggishly dragged across the white sheet, coming together to create another sad attempt at the word "library." He even added some books for some extra clarification, and then he patted at it to draw their attention once more.

"Human, you drew something else for us? Are you going to draw us next?" Raon shuffled over to Cale's side, curiously peering at the page. His head tilted left and right a few times as he tried to make out what the scribble was.

"They're books," Cale stated, "Library."

The impatience was clear on his pudgy face and in how he patted the paper twice more. This only led to the boys turning it into a never ending guessing game to try to appease him, but it only served to make him feel worse. Cale felt the urge to roll over and give up. Ohn, who hadn't stopped coloring her own sheet, glanced over wth a pensive look of her own. She wasn't as invested in the guessing game as her younger brothers, but Cale could tell she was curious as well. But he could also see how it stumped her, too. Heaving a deep sigh, Cale looked over towards the golden dragon, only to see that the dumb old man had a horribly concealed grin on his face as he stared at Cale's first attempt. Abandoning the page with the kids, he made his way over to the dragon's legs, crawling across the floor until he was right in front of Eruhaben. His fingers grasped at the golden trimmed white fabric, scrunching and pulling at it as he used the dragon's legs as support to stand up. It left wrinkles in the expensive silk, but Eruhaben didn't seem to mind, placing the drawing down on the table beside him to lean down instead.

"Yes?" Eruhaben asked, amusement clear in his tone as he gave Cale his full attention, "Do you need something?"

This was something Cale liked about the golden dragon. Although he was incredibly rude and strange for sniffing him last time, Eruhaben was one of the few people whose behavior hadn't changed too much. Though, Cale wasn't blind to the pure amusement the dragon's eyes held. Ron and Rosalyn were the main culprits of babying him, often times altering whatever they called him by into cuter versions to tease him. It wasn't anything too different than the usual "young master," but the two put the extra effort to make sure he knew he was small.

Leaning his weight against the dragon's legs, Cale made sure to step right on his feet before raising both his arms up, "Pick me up."

"You want me to hold you?"

Cale nodded and large hands gingerly wrapped around his middle, carefully lifting him up before placing him into the dragon's lap. This wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it was a start. One of Eruhaben's hands had moved to support his back, so using the remaining one, Cale tried to stand up in the man's lap. He could hear the dragon scoff at this, but he helped Cale nonetheless.

(Eruhaben's chest bloomed with warmth. Truthfully, he had thought of the red haired brat as one of his own, but seeing Cale as a young baby only solidified the urge to take care of him).

"Aren't you being a bit rude?" Eruhaben held his hands a little higher so Cale could pull himself up, "You really have the nerve to stand on top of a dragon."

Cale made sure to yank those golden strands of hair once they were within grabbing range, grinning at the grimace he received in return. Eruhaben only clicked his tongue and chided him softly, covering Cale's balled up fists with his own hand to prevent him from doing it again.

"Go over there," Cale pointed towards the shelf of books that stood in the corner of the room. It was filled with more decorative titles as some sort of show of knowledge, nothing that he would personally choose to read in his free time. Scientific theories, history, and law- that was what made up the majority of the bookcase, but that wasn't the point. If he could get the dragon to take him over to the books, then maybe the man could connect it with the need to return to the library.

"Sit still, you little rascal," Eruhaben tried to force him to sit back down. He had turned Cale around so that they could both read the book he had been flipping through earlier.

Letting out a noise of complaint, Cale slapped a hand against the open pages of the book and looked up, "No! Pick me up! Let's go!"

Ohn looked up this time and Cale felt grateful for her wits, "Do you think he wants to go look at other books? The one you're reading doesn't look that interesting..."

"YES!"" His head snapped over towards the silver haired girl, gummy smile forming with the elation of finally being understood, "Listen to her! That's what I want!"

Craning his head, Cale could feel the warmth touch the top of his head as it made contact with Eruhaben’s chest. Golden locks tickled against his face, swaying as the dragon looked down at him as well, “Is that what you wanted? You came all the way to visit me to use me as your private chauffeur to look at books?”

The baby in his arms gave a curt nod, tugging at his collar until the fabric was all stretched out. Sighing, Eruhaben moved to stand, making sure to dramatically dip the boy in the movement. This pulled a startled squawk as Cale clung to his front even tighter to ensure that he wasn't dropped. Eruhaben would never let that happen though, Cale was one of his own. He would tear the world in two before letting anything happen to Cale.

"Did you want… to go here?" The dragon asked, teasingly, taking him in the completely opposite direction.

There was only so much Cale could do to express his annoyance, and there was no way in hell that he would start crying. So he did what he thought was the next best choice: grab the dragon's face and pinch his nose. Unfortunately, Eruhaben was amused by it, gently coaxing his pudgy fingers to wrap around his own instead. The more Cale thought about it, he felt a bit awkward seeing this kind of side of Eruhaben. He'd known the proud and elegant dragon, and heard snippets of his rebellious and vicious past. This, though? This was different. With the younger kids, Eruhaben had shown endless amounts of patience, but he still showed some amount of restraint.

Was this his weak point?

Cale pushed Eruhaben's face away with his palm, grumbling at the way the dragon only grew more and more enamored.

“Let's go,” Cale leaned away again, trying to force the dragon to look towards the shelf again. The ancient bastard knew exactly what he wanted, but was holding everything up just to kiss his palms.

Once in front of the shelf, Eruhaben held Cale a little closer to it, allowing the baby to run his fingers along the spines. None of these were entertaining enough for children, let alone a baby. Eruhaben had made up his mind to search for more child friendly storybooks later, but for now, it seems that Cale was plenty entertained by the ones before him. The baby in his arms looked at him expectantly a few times, his big eyes flicking between the row of books and the dragon’s face. It was almost as though he wanted to ask for something, but for obvious reasons, couldn’t.

“Did you want me to read to you?” Eruhaben asked, “These might be a bit boring for you though…”

Cale’s face held way more sass than expected, his eyes squinting into a glare and his lips pressing into a pout. He wasn’t a baby. He understood the theorems and histories just as he would normally. Just for that remark, Cale reached for the dragon’s pointed ear, and gave it a yank. Eruhaben’s wince was actually kind of funny, so he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face.

“You… you are so evil,” Eruhaben sighed, moving to hold Cale’s hands captive once more, “Only bad kids pull on ears and hair, you’re not a bad boy, are you? Now, which one do you want to read?”

Cale blew a raspberry, his face scrunching up with the action, but clearly showing his distaste with the man. Getting on the same page as Eruhaben seemed like a lost cause at this point with how he was getting babied. There was this odd look of expectation in the dragon’s eyes though, so Cale blindly pointed at one of the books, and allowed himself to be whisked back to the couch. He was situated in the dragon’s lap just as before, only this time, there was a book across his own lap. The others must have noticed that they were having an impromptu story time with… practical uses of magic theories in mining… because Hong and Raon had quickly scooped all of the scattered crayons back into the container. Ohn’s clean up duty was to stack and neaten out the edges of the papers. Besides them, the seat dipped under their added weight, squishing them all against Eruhaben’s sides.

“What are you reading to Cale-nya?” Ohn asked, leaning in to peek at the first page. Her round brows furrowed at the content.

“Practical Uses of Magic Theories in Mining,” Eruhaben replied smoothly. If the children were bothered by the choice of book, they hadn’t uttered a single complaint, opting to snuggle in closer to listen to the ancient dragon drone on and on about how mining companies sought out people with mana capabilities to make their work easier. It was a compatible relationship between mages and miners, where the mages were given first dibs to buy any mana stone dug up for a cheaper price in exchange for their help. Cale found it to be less boring than originally expected, but it seemed that the kids didn’t agree with the sentiment. One of Hong’s fingers prodded against Cale’s cheek, prompting the other two to each take a turn to do the same once they heard his awed gasp. After a while, the kids thankfully reigned in their poking, and other than that, it was comfortable. Sometime along the way, Raon had pulled a pacifier out of a spacial bag, offering it up to him with sparkling eyes. Cale couldn’t bring himself to disappoint the baby dragon… so here he was, listening to Eruhaben explain the positive effects on the economy while sucking on the stupid thing.

-

The door opened with a soft click, drawing their attention away from the book. Sucking at the rubber dummy, Cale practically climbed over the ancient dragon to take a look. His hands grabbing and tugging at everything and anything as he pulled himself up to peek over Eruhaben’s shoulder.

“Hoh? Hello, young master, did you have fun?” Ron asked, his shoes clacking softly against the floor before stopping right at the back of the seat. “Did he behave himself?”

Cale narrowed his eyes at the butler, smacking his palms against one of the cushions and Eruhaben's shoulder in offense. He wasn't a rascal that needed to be checked up on!

“He was perfectly good, save for a few moments where he became a bit too grabby,” Eruhaben replied, placing a hand onto Cale's back for safety.

The butler let out a slight hum in lieu of a response and reached out to lightly tug at the pacifier in his mouth- an act that Cale knew Ron was doing just to bug him. Although Cale knew deep down that Ron wouldn't take it away, he couldn't help but turn away, tucking his face into the crook of Eruhaben's neck to stop the butler from stealing it.

Eruhaben seemed to take this as his cue to continue telling the man about what he had missed, “Cale had picked a book that he wanted to read to him, so the children cleaned up to join us. It's a bit of an odd choice to read… perhaps we should look into buying more child appropriate books?”

Ron glanced at the novel in Eruhaben's lap, raising a brow at the numerous diagrams and passages of text. They had stopped off on a page about how mana stones had been incorporated into machinery, powering pistons and gears fluidly. The butler made a mental note to himself to gather more books for the boy. The other three children were knocked out besides them, definitely having been bored to sleep by the contents of their reading. Ohn was neatly loaded besides the golden dragon, whereas the two boys were a jumbled mess of limbs to the side.

“...but most important of all,” Eruhaben seemed to puff up with pride, the corners of his mouth wriggling into a smirk, “Cale drew me.”

Cale blinked. This dragon must have gone insane from old age or something, why was he bragging? It wasn't even him. Eruhaben held the sheet just out of reach of Ron's hands, pulling back when the other made any move to hold it. Seriously, what was happening..?

Ron's eyes held something rather peculiar. From where Cale sat, he could clearly see a whirlwind of emotion behind them. It looked like Ron was jealous, but it didn't make sense. On the page was a poorly made attempt at writing that Eruhaben had mistaken. Either way, Eruhaben seemed to preen at the man's jealousy, gently placing the sheet back onto the table.

“Young master….” Ron already had some sort of expectant look to his face. Did this stupid scribble really make him that jealous? Ron held out his hands in a silent offer to pick Cale up.

Rolling his eyes, Cale held his own up in return. Hopefully, getting held would appease whatever little competition was forming between the two. Ron lifted him into his arms, sitting him right in the crook just as he normally did. Cale didn't know how to explain it, but Ron was best at carrying him. His attempts at communication today almost completely drained him, so he rested his head on the man's shoulder, lazily sucking at the pacifier. Even with the annoying poking and teasing, Cale couldn't be bothered, only letting out small annoyed whines when jostled too much.

“Did you tire yourself out playing?” Ron asked, his voice soft against the top of his head. Cale could only muster up a small noise in response, his eyes already beginning to slip shut. With a few pats, the baby was out like a light.

-

Ron swayed on his feet, brushing a few stray strands of hair from the boy's face. He had only planned to stop in for a short visit, but seeing as Cale had just fallen asleep in his arms, he might have to alter his plans. Sure, he could definitely pass him back over to Eruhaben. Cale was quite the deep sleeper, so Ron doubted the boy would even stir from the exchange, but admittedly, he was a bit jealous.

With a faux sigh, Ron looked back towards the ancient dragon, “Perhaps I should just take him with me…”

“You can pass him back to me, I won't be able to move any time soon,” Eruhaben immediately replied, gesturing to the other sleeping children by his side.

“I couldn't possibly leave you with four children under your care,” Ron said, enjoying the warmth from where Cale was squished against his shoulder. “It would be rude of me not to help out when you already have three sleeping children to look after.”

Eruhaben narrowed his eyes, but only sighed in return, not bothering to fight the man more. He was trapped there anyway. Even if Ron had turned tail to escape, he wouldn't be able to go after him because of how the children snuggled up to him. Counting this as a win, Ron turned to leave, easily holding Cale with one arm as he opened the door.

There weren’t too many things left that he had to tend to, only laundry and a few simple tasks that could be left for next time. The young master had everyone’s heads turning as they made their way to the laundry room. Each one of their comrades had perked up at the sight of red, rushing over to coo at the sleeping babe. Rosalyn, who had been engrossed in her research, had immediately dropped everything. Cale’s cheek was smooshed against the butler’s shoulder, round and incredibly soft- extremely enticing to anyone who saw. If the young master had been awake, he surely would have had to fend them all off with swatting hands, or maybe simply hiding away.

Since there were so many impromptu stops along the way, it took a little while longer to reach the laundry room, but once there, Ron promptly filled a basket with all the fresh linens and clothing. It was a bit heavy for lifting with one arm, but disturbing the baby was not allowed. Hoisting the basket up, Ron settled it against his hip, looking down to check if the movement had woken Cale. Luckily, it seemed that the boy hadn’t felt a single thing, still sleeping soundly.

Chapter Text

Cale wakes up surrounded by a plush warmth, the rubber pacifier still tucked between his lips as he suckled on it. He blinks a few times, confused as to where he was and why he was so toasty. It felt as though warm comfortable naps on a sunny day were somehow turned into a corporeal thing and strewn all over him, burying him in it. Blinking once more, control over his body slowly returned to him, his legs curling in as he stretched his arms out. The scent of lavender was swaddled along with him in the warmth.

"Oh?" Came the voice of the butler, soft and gentle, "Is our young master awake?"

Cale made an affirming noise, rubbing at his eyes to chase away the remaining sleep. The pacifier tumbles down into the pile of fabric when the boy's eyes squeeze shut with the big, squeaky yawn that escapes him. He doesn't fight it when Ron's gloved hands fish him out, allowing him to see that he was actually buried in laundry. He didn't mind it though, not when it gave him the most comfortable sleep ever. A pile of neatly folded clothes sat off to the side and sooner or later, the entire pile would have been removed from atop of him. Maybe waking up on his own now was a good choice.

"Did you sleep well?" Ron cooed, settling the baby in the crook of his arm.

Cale leaned heavily into the old man’s arms, completely at ease with being carried around now. Looking around, he notices that it's not his room that they were in, but the butler’s. Unlike his, this room was more modest, the furniture being of high quality, but not as embellished as his own. When Ron places him back onto the mattress, Cale pokes and prods at it, nodding in satisfaction at how soft it was. It wouldn’t be good if his people were sleeping poorly. Flopping over, he buried his face in the scent of lavender once more, ignoring Ron’s chuckles in favor of getting comfortable in the cooling clothes.

Ron folds sheet after sheet with perfected and experienced movements, “Young master, are you hungry?” Another cleanly folded blanket is placed next to Cale.

He didn’t really feel the need to voice his response, opting to raise both his arms up instead, and holding a straight face. This, however, seems to be a bad choice because Ron’s eyes glint with something strange. Instead of a normal acknowledgement of his answer, Ron’s hands moved faster, rushing through the pile of clothes until not a single one of them was left crumpled. After doing so, Cale was snatched off the plush mattress and then all of a sudden he was being held up in the air above the man’s head. What the hell?

Before he could voice a single complaint, Cale was being tossed into the air.

“What are you doing?!” He shrieked, but his question came out as more of a garbled squeal instead.

To make things worse, the man decides to hold him hostage in the air, and jostle him around! All the while, the same benign smile was spread across Ron’s lips, crows feet forming at the corner of his eyes as he cooed nonsense at Cale. Whatever semblance of sleepiness went straight out the window, which Cale fears he might also be going through if he pulls any wrong move.

Cale speaks to him slowly as though he were trying to diffuse a hostage situation. If anything, he basically was. He was the hostage. “Put me back down… Listen to me… RON!!”

Chuckling, Ron knew exactly what the young master wanted as he attentively listened to the babbling, so he tossed Cale into the air again. The baby seemed to love it just as much as how he did when he was younger. The playful squeals that the young master lets out are just too cute!

“PUT ME DOWN!!”

-

Cale looks a little worse for wear by the time they enter the dining room, his cheeks ruddy as they squish against the butler’s shoulder. His lips were pursed into a pout and his hands were gripping Ron’s shoulder in a death grip as though he were scared of being separated from the man. Cale perked up almost instantly the moment Eruhaben walked into the room, gently guiding the freshly woken children to their seats.

“Eruhaben… save me!!” He called out, reaching towards the ancient dragon.

The way Eruhaben’s face brightened up, made Cale falter a bit. Maybe choosing Rosalyn or Lark would have been a safer choice… It was too late though.

Eruhaben strided over, his hands already reaching out to steal Cale away from the butler’s hold. Before he could do so, Cale was turned just out of his reach, and he was faced with Ron’s benign and teasing smile instead.

“You must be tired after caring for Cale and also completing work, let me take him off of your hands for you,” Eruhaben smiled tightly. Cale could have sworn there were electric sparks flying between the two of them.

Ron whirls him out of Eruhaben’s reach again, making his head spin with confusion, “I’m quite alright, the young master hardly weighs a thing!”

Yeah. Cale made a mistake.

The two of them had some sort of competition… over wanting to be his favorite. Cale couldn't understand it. His cheeks puffed out as he pouted harder, already wishing he hadn't asked to be held. Whatever this was, ended with him squished between the two old men as they bickered above his head.

His salvation comes in the form of one dark haired chef with furrowed brows and multiple plates balanced in his hold. Vicross gracefully places each plate onto the mahogany table without spilling a single drop. Marinated ribs drenched in sauce, the meat so tender it just falls straight off the bone. Cale's mouth watered at the sight of it all, his drool dribbling out from the corner of his mouth without him noticing. That is, until Ron swipes at his face with a handkerchief, making him scrunch up his face and close his eyes.

(Unbeknownst to Cale, the room had fallen quiet, every one of them completely enamored by his excited coos. Both Eruhaben and Ron had stopped right in their tracks at the sudden movement.

Cale kicked his feet in the butler's hold, one of his hands completely covered in slobber as he watched Vicross).

Eventually, Eruhaben settles Cale in his lap with a strong arm wrapped around his middle to keep him from falling. Rightfully so, since Cale was ready to pull himself onto his feet to reach the table. The table’s contents were out of reach of his view, leaving him able to see only the bottom edges of each plate instead of what was served on top of them. Cale doesn’t feel too worried about missing out, his head turning to watch the butler move around the table, helping his son arrange and serve the food.

Cale claps his hands together when Ron finally returns to their side with a smaller bowl, his rust colored eyes glimmering as he drooled. “What’d you get?” He asked, one fist curled into the dragon’s sleeve.

“Our young master is quite excited for his meal, I see,” Ron pulls a chair out and seats himself across from them. He scoots a little closer and his knees are touching Eruhaben’s.

All of Cale’s previous excitement dies in its tracks when the lip of the bowl is finally tilted down enough for him to see. Instead of the mouth watering food that everyone else had in front of them, Cale was faced with a bowl…. Of mush. It was a light green color with the consistency of applesauce.

“I’m not eating that,” Cale glared at Ron, then turned to direct his heated gaze at the chef.

His message clearly doesn’t get across to the old man this time either because Ron’s scooping a spoonful up to bring to Cale’s mouth. Cale feels like he's seconds from bursting into flames from how embarrassed he's become. Ron makes an ‘ah’ sound, expecting him to follow suit. There's no way in hell that he would do that.

“Come on, young master,” Ron murmurs, “It's delicious.”

Cale side eyes him, clamping his mouth shut as he turns away. Yeah, delicious his ass, if it was so good, Ron could eat it himself. He was beginning to get hungry from the aroma of everyone else's meals… it wasn't fair. He'd rather drink milk if they weren't going to feed him real food.

Cale cranes his head back when he hears Eruhaben speak. The ancient dragon's eyes shone with worry as he held Cale. It was easy to see how troubled he was by the situation.

“Why isn't he eating?” He fretted, pressing the back of one hand gentle against the round of Cale's cheek. “He was so excited earlier… is it the meal?”

Cale's eyes widened. Finally, someone was beginning to understand him. “Yeah! I don't want this,” He replies.

That was his first mistake. He should've known not to trust that bastard assassin. The moment he had opened his mouth to agree, Ron shoved a spoonful of mush into his mouth. The butler's eyes curled in delight as he crowed words of encouragement, to which Cale angrily kicked his feet. His lips were pulled into a pout as he swallowed it down. Spitting it out was childish… Ron won this time.

It wasn't bad, not with how talented of a chef Vicross was, which gave Cale half the mind to give in and just eat it. But indignantly, he refused to go down without a fight.

“The young master was a fussy eater when he was younger as well,” Ron replied smoothly, “Don't worry too hard.”

He was not a fussy eater. He just had standards now.

The next spoonful of mush is shoved towards his mouth, smearing across his cheek as he turns away. The insistent bastard…. It wasn’t fair that he was sentenced to eating this bland mush while everyone feasted! He’d have to deal with eating like this everyday..?

Two fingers pinched the sides of his face, forcing his mouth open into a kissy face, and then he was being fed again. Cale craned his head back to glare at the owner of said hands, his mouth pressed into a hard line because the butler couldn’t be trusted.

“Yes, yes,” Eruhaben sighed, “We’re evil for making sure that you don’t starve.”

Cale kicked at them once more, his pudgy hands latched on the dragon’s wrist to try to pry those slender fingers from his face.

Ron lets out a sigh of his own, a pensive look crossing his face, “Young master, if you finish your food, you can have a treat after.”

He wasn’t a dog, damn it.............

What treat?

Leave it to their young master to negotiate even as a baby, Ron thought. It was easy to see that his deal had caught the baby’s attention. Those rust colored eyes narrowed into a stare and the fussiness immediately halted as if to say “go on.”

“Finish this bowl and I’ll have my son prepare some meat for you,” Ron says seriously, the spoon already loaded up and ready.

Cale obediently takes the next bite without a single fuss.

“Can he really eat the meat?” Eruhaben hissed out his concerns, one hand comfortably wrapped around Cale’s middle while the other shook their charge’s hand up and down.

“Of course,” Cale replies, his face a mess of green. He squints at the butler once more, half sure that the man might try to pull a quick one and change his mind. “And you better keep your end of the deal, Ron.”

Cale finishes the bowl with diligence, his head swiveling around in search of his reward. Finally, he would be able to eat something good. Vicross re-enters the room with a smaller, steaming plate in his hands, and it's like the chef and the plate are the only things to exist in the world. Cale pays no mind to the bickering happening above his head, nor does he notice the change of laps he's sitting in. All that matters is that he can finally taste the mouth watering ribs. Drool covers the entirety of Cale's chin now and the sight of it has the chef grimacing. Not that the baby cares though. He's too busy making grabby hands at the approaching plate, only to be disappointed when Ron takes it and keeps it out of his reach.

Vicross hands his father a moist cloth for him to wipe his now gloveless hands as well. Even as Cale tried to snatch the food from Ron’s hands, the butler managed to keep it just out of reach as he shredded a bit off from the bone to check the temperature and how tender it was. Ron wasn’t worried about the young master choking on the rib, but he was worried about the boy burning his mouth and hands on it. The baby in his lap let out a frustrated noise, his face quickly crumpling because he still wasn’t allowed to eat it yet.

“It’s too hot for you, young master,” Ron said, gently blowing on it, “You’re all fussy now, but it won’t be fun if you burn yourself while eating.”

It was a bit entertaining seeing how Eruhaben’s hands hovered close to Cale, unsure how he could help calm the baby down.

Ron sighs and holds it in front of the baby, “Here you are, young master.”

Cale’s cheeks were ruddy, his long lashes clumped up with unshed tears. The boy in Ron’s hold gnawed on the rib happily, sniffling every now and then, but otherwise content. Tiny hands were soon covered with sauce, sticky and grubby as they grabbed at the hand Ron held onto the piece with. Soft clinks and clatters filled the room around them, their other companions each holding conversations between themselves. The children were sitting at the table a little ways away, their cheeks rounded out with each bite they took. Although Cale had no teeth yet, it didn’t stop him from attacking the meat, gumming at it with furrowed brows, and getting drool all over both Ron and himself.

“Human, isn’t uncle Vicross’ cooking yummy?” Raon asked, leaning out of his seat in order to get a clear view of Cale. His paws were a mess of sauce and crumbs as he continued to eat.

Cale made a little ‘ooh’ noise in return. Ron supposed that the baby’s first milk teeth would be popping up soon… he’d have to check later. An amused smile grew on Ron’s face at the sight of chubby cheeks moving up and down as Cale ate. Ron held out a spoon of mashed potato towards the boy, delighting in the way he readily opened his mouth to be fed. Perhaps he did miss the days when the young master and his own son were this small.

Hong and Raon had migrated towards them with their plates carefully held in their hands, scooting their chairs closer to eat together.

“Do you want some of mine?” Hong held out a fork full of sautéed veggies.

Ron stops the transaction before it can happen, dutifully telling the boy that Cale was still too young to eat normal foods. A grumble is pulled from Cale’s lips when Ron pulls the rib away to show the kids that little to no progress had actually been made. Eruhaben holds out another spoonful of mashed potatoes for Cale after having taken it from Ron. Something about it being unfair that the butler was doing it all, but Cale pays it no mind, focused on munching on the food in front of him instead. They really should have just fed him this from the start! What was the point of that green goop? Potatoes were good!

“Will he take another bottle as well?” The golden dragon asked.

To Cale’s dismay, Ron pulls the rib away while answering, “Yes, he’ll have one before bed tonight.”

Somehow, the two old men begin to bicker once more, arguing about who should hold him and how Ron had already done everything. It didn’t matter! Ron’s hand was just out of reach from Cale’s hands, the rib being used as some sort of tool to point during their argument.

“Let… Give it to me…” Cale complained, his hands missing the target each time.

It really wasn’t like the two of them to be this distracted. Even when Raon had climbed into Eruhaben’s lap, neither of them had paid too much attention. And even as Raon spoon fed him a few bites of apple pie, it wasn’t until it was too late that they noticed.

“Human loves apple pie!!” Raon grinned, the slice in his paws almost half gone. Now that made the two old men freeze in their tracks.

Apple pie?

Chapter Text

Raon held out another fork-full of pie towards Cale in a chubby paw with a bright smiles spread across his face, but just before Cale could lean in to take it, both he and Raon were wrenched apart. It was too late though. Even with Raon now held out in the air by Eruhaben and Cale being spun around by the butler, the baby had already managed to get a few bites in. Cale's small brows raised in delight as he craned his head to follow where the little dragon had gone. Gloved fingers pressed at the sides of Cale's cheeks with a light pressure that forced him to open his mouth, much to his annoyance.

"Let go," Cale grumbled, his words barely forming thanks to the butler's hand and the remaining pie in his mouth.

The assassin's brows were drawn downwards as he scanned the boy's face, his lips pressed into a thin line. It wasn't the end of the world that Cale had eaten the pie, but Ron was more concerned about how much he had to eat already. The boy had eagerly finished his bowl in order to eat the ribs, readily ate whatever mashed potatoes spoon fed to him, and now had however much pie? Cale was bound to have an upset stomach. If not from the foods, then the amount.

Ron held the baby out in front of him, allowing the boy to stand on his lap as he looked him over. Crumb covered cheeks, a round and plump tummy- the young master sure ate wel even though his diet had mostly consisted of milk for the past few days. It worried Ron greatly. This was Cale's first actual meal as a baby and he'd already gone and consumed pie. He wasn't against allowing the young master to eat sweet treats every now and then, but he and his son had been planning for a slow reintroduction to foods in case Cale's stomach couldn't handle it. Perhaps they were a little too overzealous in watching the baby eat, and perhaps it would have been better if they explained it all to the other children ahead of time. It wasn't the little dragon's fault at all, he didn't know any better.

"You're going to have a stomach ache if you continue eating, young master," Ron chided, carefully holding the boy so as to not jostle him. He had already done so enough while turning him around in his hold... any more and it might just cause the baby to spit up.

Ron felt as though he shouldn't have been thought of that possibility because within seconds, his lap was full of not only a baby, but also spit up.

The children let out sharp gasps. Raon sat in the older dragon's lap with Eruhaben's lithe arms wrapped around his middle to keep him from wiggling off. Ohn and Hong had migrated over to their sides as well some time during the two adult's bickering. Both the red haired boy and the butler's eyes were glued on the mess that covered Ron's sleek, black slacks.

Cale's face was pale, his brows kitting together as he let out a soft whine, Sorry.

For once, Cale was glad that the butler insisted on including the stupid cutesy bibs in his daily outfits. Without a trace of anger or disgust, Ron began using the bib to wipe Cale's face before even considering to clean himself up. Other than the bib, socks, and Ron's pants and gloves, there weren't any other casualties. The soiled socks were peeled from the baby's feet so that they were inside out and then the bib was untied from Cale's neck. Ron knew that the young master hadn't meant to do it, no baby did. Carefully, he placed Cale on his shoulder and began to rub his back. It wouldn't be good if Cale continued to be sick. After that, he helped the baby take a few sips of water, assuming that the young master would be bothered by any lingering taste in his mouth, if any. His dirtied slacks weren't too much of an issue to him. It wasn't like he hadn't dealt with situations such as this before... the young master used to be even worse in the past. Babies truly were helpless creatures.

"Give him to me and go get changed," Eruhaben spoke up, a scowl marring his handsome face. Raon had scooted over in the dragon's lap to create more space for Cale to sit next to him.

Unlike earlier, Ron passed the young master over to the dragon without an ounce of reluctance before standing to leave. His footfalls were near silent as always as he stalked off to get changed.

(Later on, the ancient dragon would tell him just how guilty Cale looked as he watched his retreating form).

Raon's wings drooped against the small of his back, "I made human sick..."

The baby dragon looked crestfallen, the fork in his paw clinking lightly against the ceramic plate in his lap. It was a bit embarrassing how Ron was right, but Cale had to admit, he was feeling better already. Somehow, he felt similarly to how he did whenever the Vitality of the Heart was working. It made him wonder if this, too, was the work of the cry baby. Raising his hand, Cale moved to pat at Raon's round head, his movements awkward and clunky as though he had never done it before. This was something that never failed to frustrate Cale: the lack of coordination that came with the tiny body. Still, the little pats seemed to cheer the toddler up. Raon's head gently pushed against Cale's palm as his eyes fluttered shut, a soft rumble starting as Cale continued the motions.

Eruhaben quietly watched the interaction. Worry welled up in his chest as he took one of the boy's arms in a hand to steady and used the other to smooth up and used the other to smooth up and down Cale's back. "Are you still feeling sick, Cale?"

He wasn't... if anything, he was embarrassed as hell. He wasn't going to throw up again, right??? Cale decided that it'd be best to communicate more clearly with the ancient dragon, "No... I feel fine at the moment..."

(The baby looked at Eruhaben with the most pitiful eyes. Round and pleading as he let out a sad sounding coo).

Carefully, Eruhaben slowly lifted the boy up to place him on his shoulder. His hand patted a soothing rhythm against the baby's small back. Somehow, he was managing to keep Raon balanced on his lap as well, the hand against Cale's back leaving to steady the baby dragon. Cale's cheek looked like a squashed ball of dough against Eruhaben's shoulder.

"I can't believe I'm telling a baby this..." Eruhaben muttered below his breath, "You should've known better, Cale. Like it or not, Ron was right. You should've just eaten the baby food since that was good for you."

"No, that's not right," Cale began to explain, "I'm not feeling sick!"

The dragon has the nerve to shush him as he turns his attention towards Raon instead, pulling a pacifier out of thin air to silence him. The baby dragon practically wilted with guilt, his eyes resembling those of a kicked puppy. Those sapphire-like eyes glimmered and glistened, wet with unshed tears. Whatever disgruntled feeling Cale had been harboring towards the ancient dragon quickly died off. Raon's expression crumpled within seconds. He couldn't blame the man for any of it because he, too, would have prioritized comforting Raon first.

"It wasn't your fault," Eruhaben's voice was soothing as he cupped the baby dragon's cheek. "You're still learning. You're still a baby yourself, Raon, this is just one of many thing left for you to learn."

Shuddering breaths and hiccuping cries are barely muffled by Roan's own paws. As much as Cale understood Raon's worried, he couldn't help the sigh that built up in his chest. But funnily enough, both he and Eruhaben had sighed at the same time. Cale's had been stifled by the rubber pacifier while Eruhaben's was barely held back. The dragon met his eyes with an amused gaze that clearly expressed the question that floated in his mind: what are you sighing for?

As best as he could, Cale delivered his response with just his eyes, Hurry up and comfort him.

Although a little wobbly, Cale was left to sit on his own in Eruhaben's lap as Raon was lifted into the ancient dragon's embrace. Tucking the black dragon into one arm, Eruhaben freed his other hand in order to force Cale to lie down in his lap instead. That way, the risk of the baby tumbling off was far less. Cale was content in lying down in the nook of the dragon's thighs. If anything, it was incredibly comfortable.

"You and I already know how weak human beings are compared to majestic beings such as us, Raon" Eruhaben started, his gaze flicked over to Cale for a second.

"Yeah! Human is weaker than my littlest claw!" Raon sniffled out, "Now he's barely any strong!"

Cale narrowed his eyes at this. Just where was Eruhaben going with this conversation?

"Yes, well Human babies are even weaker and they need to be extra careful about what they eat so they don't choke and get hurt," The golden dragon continued, "That's why a meal was prepared specifically for Cale."

Raon tilted his head, "The goop?"

"Exactly."

Cale felt a bit offended at this. Anyone could choke while eating! It wasn't just him! Don't feed him that green mush, even Raon doesn't recognize it as food!! He said GOOP!!

Tilting his head back, Cale began to look around at the occupants of the room. To him, they were upside down, but to them, Cale was absolutely adorable. Big, round eyes curiously peering at them from the dragon's lap, round cheeks moving slightly as he sucked on the rubber dummy. It was hard to keep from reacting for a few of them. Rosalyn stood up from her seat, her heels clacking against the flooring as she made her way to the ancient dragon's side.

"Can I hold him?" The mage asked carefully.

Eruhaben eyed her for a moment, his reptilian eyes passing over her as he thought.

"Alright."

With the expertise of an elder sister, Rosalyn lifted and flipped Cale around to place him on her hip. The baby blinked a couple times, almost confused as to just how he had made it there from where he had just been lying comfortably. She doesn't stray too far from the dragon’s side, noticing how those golden eyes tracked her every movement. She'd like to stay on Eruhaben-nim’s good side, thank you very much. It wasn't hard to tell that the dragon had grown an even stronger attachment to the newly regressed Cale Henituse.

“Hi, little young master,” Rosalyn sing-songed, her eyes curling in delight.

The boy’s cheeks were rosy and plump, but the only reaction she received in return was a deadpan stare. It did nothing to deter her joy. The young noble really hadn’t changed much even though he was reverted to this form. As an adult, Cale was always content with doing nothing. It amused her greatly how that made an appearance in the boy’s nature. In the short while that Cale had been changed into a child, he hadn’t so much as fussed, save for a few times, but he wasn’t fully awake. Even now, when he had never been held by the mage before, Cale simply accepted it and melted into the hold. His chubby fingers mindlessly tangled in her long locks as he peered around the room from over her shoulder.

It's a wonder just how small Cale was. Hands so tiny that her own could easily close around, feet that fit right into the palm of her hands… Cale was just so small. His habit of scrunching up didn't help the giddy feeling that curled up within her. Rosalyn hadn't held a baby this small since her youngest sibling had been born! Lightly, she carded her fingers through the tussled, red locks on top of Cale's head, chucking to herself as the boy closed his eyes at the soft touch. For someone as nonchalant as Cale, it was exceptionally cute to see him so honest like this.

“You like when noona plays with your hair, hmm?” She cooed, smoothing her hand down the baby's round head.

His hair was soft to the touch, and his skin even more. If she could, Rosalyn would spend her days poking and prodding at the tiny boy. She could imagine how Cale would grumble at all her squishing with a fist flying up to bat away her hands. Even as everyone continues on with their own conversations, their eyes would eventually be drawn back to the baby in Rosalyn’s arms. It was easy to tell that Lark and Choi Han both wanted to hold Cale as well, but isn’t that too bad. Rosalyn grinned to herself at the thought of the two of them filled with envy, and then turned towards them to stick out her tongue. It was her turn to hold the baby and there was no way that she would lose out by letting them try to steal him away. Plus, the moment that Ron returned, she would be forced to give Cale back anyway. Rosalyn could remember the first times her rascal little siblings had eaten sugary foods. It was a hassle to deal with at the time, but compared to them, Cale was an absolute angel. Though it looked like the sugar hadn’t affected him at all, if they paid extra close attention, they were able to see them. The main difference being how fidgety he was compared to usually: his fingers scrunched and curled in her hair, the fabric of her blouse, and basically anything within reach. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to see the boy’s eyes droop with exhaustion like eating was a terribly strenuous task, but Cale was plenty awake now.

The door opens with a soft click as Ron makes an appearance once more and Rosalyn has half the heart to feel offended when Cale’s head pops up from where he was resting it against her shoulder. The older man was sporting a blazer and neatly pressed white shirt that looked exactly like the one he wore previously. Thinking about it, he could’ve asked Eruhaben-nim, Raon, or even her to help clean him off with the use of magic. Rosalyn had a feeling that the ancient dragon hadn’t offered to do so since he wanted a turn holding Cale. Ron had been hogging the little young master for the majority of the night. If Cale hadn’t gone and made a mess of his clothing, Rosalyn wouldn’t have gotten the chance either.

(The silent, knowing look in the dragon’s gave her was enough of a confirmation).

With Cale in Ron’s hold again, it seemed that Choi Han and Lark felt like it was their chance. The swordsman had little to no luck since his request was immediately shot down by the old man. But when the young wolf asked, Cale looked up from Ron’s arms and reached out. It seemed like the little young master wanted to indulge the young man, Rosalyn thought to herself.

A lopsided grin spread across Lark's face as he held the little young master in his arms. The wolf had always been excited to hold his baby brother's and sister’s, albeit a little awkward. He held Cale just as he did his many younger siblings, it was a clumsy thing that was constantly corrected by his family. This time it's no different. Under some guidance, one of Lark's arms was across Cale's torso while the other was underneath the baby's bum. To Cale, it wasn't too uncomfortable, but there's certainly been better. Curiously, he peered up at the teenaged boy. Lark was incredibly enthusiastic around young children and Cale suspected he would be the same with him.

“He's.. he's so small…!” The wolf squeaked out.

Lark's voice had long passed the crackling stage of puberty, but it was making an appearance again due to the overwhelming urge to hug and protect. Had his tail been out, the chef would've been stressed out of his mind from all the dust it'd be kicking up. Cale looked a little perplexed, but didn't complain, the pacifier in his mouth bobbing slightly. Peering up again, Cale’s brows scrunched at the sight of a teary eyed Lark. Whatever the blue haired boy was mumbling was hard to understand due to his blubbering and nuzzling against the baby’s head.

Cale shot Ron a silent plea for help with his eyes. His hands were long trapped in the teenager’s grip as he lightly squished and played with them with one hand. Ron knew fully well just what Cale was asking him to do, but that damn old man only smiled in return.

When he was finally rescued from the wolf’s hold, Cale began to punch at the assassin’s shoulder, his words coming out garbled, “I know you were playing stupid, Ron.”

The assassin laughed good-naturedly and pulled Cale’s head in to rest against his shoulder, “It seems that it’s time for the young master to get ready for bed.”

Chapter Text

Cale has zero complaints about an early bedtime, but what he does have a problem with is how Ron had the nerve to stop just before opening the door to force him to wave goodnight to everyone else.

He had been comfortably cuddled up in the butler's arms until the man abruptly turned him around to face the room. "Say goodnight, young master," Ron softly instructed him, taking Cale's much smaller hand into his own.

Against his will, the baby waved his hand with much more enthusiasm than he had. None. He had none. That damn butler was enjoying this, Cale knew it. Just like how the man purposely brought him lemonade every morning, Cale had a suspicion that Ron was doing this just to drag a reaction out of him. Embarrassment built up within him, painting his face and ears a burning shade of red that nearly matched his hair.

You see, Cale didn't have an issue with waving to the children or even Lark or Vicross or Eruhaben. When his eyes flicked over to the kids, Cale was waving on his own. He would probably see them in a little while after the others helped them get ready for bed. On the other hand, Cale directed a withering glare towards Rosalyn, who was eagerly waving both of her hands as though she was attending some sort of fan meeting for an idol.

"Little young master~ Our tiny shield!!" She crooned, wiggling and scrunching her hands at him. A shit eating grin spread across her lips.

Cale KNEW she was enjoying this. Both she and Ron were somehow on the same page and had it been for anything else, there would have been chills racing down Cale's spine. But instead, the two of them joined forces and were hard set on teasing him!! The annoyance raced up and down Cale's spine, leaving him with an itchy sensation that made him want to kick and punch. It was all too much, but it had nowhere to escape to.

(The baby wriggled in Ron's hold, straightening out as though he was trying to escape as he whined and frowned. Having raised children, Ron knew what signs to look out for when identifying a possible melt down.

Perhaps he had teased the young master a little too much after all that had happened tonight).

Ron exited the room without any further fanfare, shifting Cale back into a more comfortable hold with practiced movements. Cale was placed on his back to be cradled in the butler's arms. The boy's brows still held a wrinkle between them as he sulked. A finger kept him from spitting out the pacifier with a light pressure, but it couldn't stop Cale from voicing his complaints around it.

"That was so embarrassing, Ron," Cale hissed out, his words barely recognizable around the dummy, "Why would you even do that!"

Even as the baby grumbled and kicked, Ron held him securely, hushing and soothing him. Later on, Cale would definitely feel embarrassed about this little tantrum. When his mind has cleared and he thinks back to it, his face will surely turn as bright as a cherry. It wasn't even that big of a deal, but the dumb baby emotions made everything feel much more and terrible. Frustration bubbled up inside of him, making him wiggle and squirm. But even then, Ron adjusted his hold, tucking the boy a little closer as he patted him. The butler apologized easily, his voice soft and rumbling as he swept the pad of his thumb across Cale's cheek. As quick as the frustration was to build, it fizzled out into a handful of pops and sizzles until nothing was left.

The scent of his bedroom greets them as the door swings open and Cale has half the mind to wonder why his senses feel stronger. Was this something all babies dealt with? He hadn't put much thought into it before, never noticing much unless someone smelled horribly. It was strange how simple it was for the butler to calm him down. Even though Cale had more than a healthy amount of fear of the man, he couldn't help but seek Ron out. If the butler wanted to kill him, he would have done so already. Ron was just a petty old man who enjoyed making him suffer. Cale fiddled with the buttons on the man's shirt, pinching and grabbing at them. It was practice. He needed to improve his fine motor skills if he wanted to try getting a message across again. Last time, his hands grew tired too fast, leading to the messy, illegible writing.

Ron bustles around the room, gathering a new set of clothes and a clean diaper to change the baby into. He lays it out onto the bed before bringing Cale into the bathroom to wash up. Peeling off one of his gloves, Ron turned the water on, and waited for it to reach a perfect, warm temperature. The stack of clean, fleecy wash clothes were a new addition to the young master's bathroom, along with a few bath toys and kiddy towels that he thought would be useful (and cute). Taking one into his hand, it was dipped underneath the water until fully saturated, and then squeezed until there was no dripping excess. Bringing it up to Cale's face, Ron watched how the bridge of Cale's nose scrunched as he wiped the crumbs and stickiness clean. Flipping it around, he used the other end to swipe at the baby's gums. Cale's teeth had yet to come in, but he anticipated that they'd come soon. With Cale insisting on eating, it was best to keep the baby's gums clean. Two hands held onto Ron's own as he wiped, but they didn't push him away. Ron used this as a chance to get a closer look at the boy's mouth since he wasn't wiggling away. Two buds were forming along the bottom row, protruding out the tiniest bit.

"Young master, your teeth will come in soon," Ron murmured.

Cale was pretty excited at the prospect of that, if he were honest. Being toothless was a hassle. He couldn't eat what he wanted, he was drooly and gross, he couldn't enunciate words, and so much more. If he's going to be stuck in this form for a while, at least he could eat good food, right? With that being said, he needed to figure out another way to tell the others what to look for. The book would be the best start, and going from there, Eruhaben and Rosalyn would surely be able to narrow down a solution after investigating it. The only issue was: both Eruhaben and Rosalyn were completely enamored by him being a baby! No matter how he tried to lay out the facts for them, they took it in a completely opposite direction!! Sure, he hadn't exactly tried to communicated with the mage yet, but Cale had a feeling she'd be too blinded to understand. Ron... Ron was a lost cause at this point. Sometimes, it felt like the man could understand him, but then he'd go and do something that completely destroyed that belief.

(Ron brought the boy over to the bed after patting his round face dry with a fluffy towel. For whatever reason, Cale seemed completely lost in thought.

No matter. It made changing him a painless task since the boy was too busy to kick and hiss.

Trying not to jostle Cale from his thoughts, Ron skillfully redressed him in a bear onesie. One by one, the little arms and legs were pulled into the correct places, and then all that was left was to snap each button up until Cale was all snug and warm. The ends of the arms and legs of the onesie were closed off and embroidered to look like paws, but the sleeves could be flipped over so the baby's hands could be out if he wanted.

Ron looked over his hard work once more before tugging the pacifier away. He'd give the boy a new one since this one was used all day).

Soon, Cale was lowered down onto the bed, and the plush pillows were brought over to surround him. The mattress dipped down as Ron sat beside him, his hand warm against the boy's tummy. But unlike the previous nights, Cale's eyes didn't droop with sleep, and the room did not fill with his soft, slow breaths right away. Tonight, Cale’s eyes were still bright and awake. Mitted hands pushed and pawed at the butler’s in an attempt to escape. Curious, Ron removed his own and watched to see just what the young master was up to. With great effort, the boy flipped over to his front and slowly tried to push himself up to sit. It seems that the young master isn’t tired yet, Ron thought to himself.

“Should we read?” Ron asked softly.

Cale looked up at him and flashed a smile. If talking didn’t work… smiling always seemed to. Raising his arms, he began to think about how easy it was to be carried around again. He didn’t have to move, it was comfortable– there were so many pros to this. At first, it was jarring to be constantly picked up and carried away, but he easily grew used to it. Hands wrapped slipped under his arms and curled around his middle with a soft pressure, lifting him up off the bed. Last time, Cale had noticed a pile of bags in the corner, but the butler must have cleared them up while he was sleeping or away. A small shelf was left in its place, filled to the brim with colorful children's’ books and toys. He was placed down a short distance away so that he could crawl over by himself. Ron lowered himself to sit on the ground behind him, patiently waiting for Cale to make his choice.

With the newly installed bookshelf, Cale felt like he could come up with a less complicated way to demand to be brought back to the palace's library. One in front of it, Cale plopped onto his butt and pulled at the books one by one. They were crisp, their faces without a single scratch, but Cale clumsily tore the organized shelf apart, dropping each one beside him with a clatter. His actions nor the mess seemed to bother the butler since Ron continued to watch him with a warm smile.

(It felt a little different from the usual benign smile Ron liked to torment him with, but Cale looked away anyway).

Animals, plants, fairytales- there was a wide range of topics displayed, all catered towards young children. But there wasn't a single book that Cale thought could be connected to the one that had started it all. A dissatisfied huff escapes him, but in the end, Cale selects one randomly: a story about three little kittens who set off on an adventure. It clacks against the floor as he crawls over with it tightly grasped in one hand, and climbs into the butler's lap. It takes a little wiggling for Cale to get comfortable, his tubby legs now extended out and his back leant against Ron's stomach. It was more comfortable than sitting on the hard floor and he wouldn't have to hold the book either since Ron had already picked it up for him. He was planning on using the butler as a comfortable seat, but soon Ron's voice came from behind him, reading out the pages as he slowly dragged a finger from one word to the next. The tone he reads in is soft and calming, and combined with the warmth, Cale's eyes grow heavier.

Soon enough, those little hands stop reaching out to turn the page to the next. When Ron looks down, the boy's head is bobbing as he struggles to keep himself upright in his sleep. A small whine came as Ron maneuvered Cale wound in his arms, setting the book down to the side as he got up. He'd have to clean up the mess that the young master made, but he doesn't mind. Not with how the boy's eyes sparkled as he did it. The boy looks tiny where he's tucked between the pillows, sleeping directly in the center of the bed. The young master doesn't tend to roll around much in his sleep, but if he were to somehow make it past the plush wall, there wasn't an immediate risk of him falling.

Sometimes, it's times like this that Ron feels like his stealth is put to use best. There's barely a single creak as he pulls the door shut behind him, leaving it open a crack.

-

It’s dark when Cale peels his eyes open, his eyes slowly adjusting to the poor lighting. There’s no clues for him to figure out what time it is, but with the silence that drapes over the villa, it’s safe to assume that it’s ass o’ clock in the morning. Cale wakes up feeling like he’d been bundled up and left right beside a crackling flame. His tongue is dry in his mouth as he stretches and scrunches. It’s not something he’d be able to ignore.

The task of flipping over is almost too strenuous with the hunger pangs that came suddenly, but one way or another, Cale manages to do it. His head swivels from left to right as he takes in his surroundings. Going to bed always manages to make him feel like he’d been left in a strange new place for the first few minutes after waking up. Cale perks up at the wispy light that floats towards him, soft but radiant.

“Oh?” There’s a soft noise of a book being placed down on the table’s surface and then a set of approaching footfalls. It’s a bit hard to see over the pillows, but Cale knows who the voice belongs to.

It’s a relief how he won’t be forced to call for anyone since Eruhaben is already here, gingerly lifting him from the bed. The hand that presses against his cheek is cool to the touch.

“You’re a little warm…” Eruhaben mutters, the slight grimace becoming more visible as the wisps float closer. “What’s wrong? You usually sleep through the night… are you hungry?”

Cale makes a noise in reply, too lazy to give a proper response. And it’s almost impressive how the dragon catches on to his needs without needing any more explanation, not that Cale would be able to give one. Golden dust dances around the dragon’s wrist, circling it like microscopic space rocks orbiting around their planet. The dim lighting and the sleight of hand makes it all the more magical as Eruhaben pulls a milk-filled bottle out of thin air. His hand is wrapped around the bottom as the golden particles swirl to life. A part of Cale suspects that the dragon was putting on a show in hopes of wowing him because of how those golden eyes continued to watch him. Had he taken any longer, maybe Cale would have had a few complaints instead of the compliments the dragon seemingly wanted.

(Eruhaben can’t look away.

Sleepy eyes blinking up at him as he holds the bottle, little fingers wrapped around his long strands of golden hair. He’d heard so many drone on and on about how cute their little ones were and he could never understand it. If anything, Eruhaben had planned on spending the rest of his life in the tranquility of his lair, but then a certain red haired noble came along.

He didn’t have a clue when he first began to see Cale as one of his own, and he never would have expected that he, too, would be a dragon spending this much time around mere humans. But one way or another, Cale and the kids had wriggled their way into his heart.

And now? With Cale left so small and vulnerable, his heart swelled up even more with the need to protect.

If he has to fight that damn butler for custody over the boy, he will.

Cale dozes off in the safety of the dragon's arms, warm and full).

Chapter Text

A vast array of toys are spread out on an equally bright baby blanket on the floor of his bedroom, ranging from plush toys to wooden blocks. Cale pays no mind to any of them, save for the red bear that the children had bought him last time. His fingers trail through its minky fur as he listens to their plans. Ron had left him with Eruhaben in the morning after setting this play area up and settling him down with the bear as a back rest. While Ohn, Hong, and Raon all joined him on the play mat, offering him toys, Eruhaben sat at the table. For someone as busy as Ron, he still managed to find time to brew the perfect tea for Eruhaben whilst also setting everything up. The ancient dragon sat gracefully with one leg crossed over the other, his hands wrapped around the warm porcelain of the tea cup. From what Cale could smell, it wasn't even the lemon tea that the butler religiously served him each morning. How unfair.

A book laid flat on the table in front of the dragon. Eruhaben had been reading it since even before he had woken up, so Cale wasn't entirely sure what it was about. Eruhaben hummed thoughtfully, flipping the page over to the next. It's a soft and pensive noise that has all four of the children pausing to look over at him.

"Young babies will grab their feet while playing..." Eruhaben reads aloud, "Which can be seen as a sign that they're happy..."

Four sets of eyes turn to stare at him.

"Human... Human doesn't do that..." came a wobbling voice.

"Cale-nya..."

Their gazes are heavy with their expectations... too uncomfortable for Cale to ignore, especially since he couldn't leave as easily. The sigh that falls from the baby's lips has Eruhaben masking his chuckles with a cough, his eyes full of mirth as Cale reluctantly took his two feet into his hands. Whatever worry that flooded the kids had easily washed over them, allowing them to turn back to the toys.

Three wooden blocks sat on top of one another, carefully stacked up by the boys. Their eyes danced with joy as they watched as Cale moved to place his own on top of it. The previous tower had been knocked over when his movements were too clumsy, but he wasn't met with a single ounce of frustration.

Raon's wings fluttered behind him as he grinned, "It's okay, human! We can build more!"

Hong’s head bobbed rapidly in agreement, and then they were starting over again. Ohn seemed content in passing pieces over for Cale to take, patiently holding them until the baby’s hands wrapped around them. Once an adequate tower was built, standing at around eye level of Cale while he was sitting, they eagerly encouraged him to knock it down.

“It’s the best part of building!” Hong says, a bright smile sitting on his face as well, “Go on, you can do it!”

His hand smacks against one of the bottom blocks, causing them to tip over and fall. It’s thanks to the butler’s preparation that the loud clattering was muffled by the mat, but instead, the room fills with the boy’s hooting and their sister’s clapping. Cale doesn’t find it that interesting, but he claps his hands together anyways. If the children are having fun, that’s all that matters.

Eventually, Raon steals his attention away as the two kittens begin to build a castle out of the blocks, incorporating the other toys into it to add more of a story. It’s a castle with a farm as a courtyard, he heard Hong explain, his hand grabbing at the wooden cow to set it on top of the tower. In front of him, the little dragon begins to pull item after item out of the spatial pouch that he always carried with him. A pink piggy bank that rattled with movement, loose coins that the dragon would stop to slot into the pig, leaves, rocks, acorns, mana stones– it’s an endless show of goods that Raon continues to pull out. The dragon’s little hoard, Cale supposes.

An apple pie is pulled out of the pouch next, still fresh and mouth-watering, “There’s a bunch of apple pies in here for us all to share! Oh but, lemonade and goldie gramps said you’re still too little to eat them…” Raon’s voice trails off as a pensive look appears on his face, “You’ll have to wait, human!”

The pie is returned into the pouch with that explanation as though Raon was worried that the boy might reach out and try eating it if he left it out. But what the little dragon pulls out of his treasure pouch next really has Cale perking up– a communication device. More specifically, the one they routinely used to call the crown prince! Scratches cover the glass of the orb, its base covered in a layer of grime. Looking at the device more closely, it really has been through a lot. Cale leans forward with one hand reaching out towards it, carefully balancing himself so that he won’t faceplant into the ground. Curiosity flickers across Raon’s face as he watches, his head tilting like a confused puppy.

“Raon, call the crown prince,” Cale says, his hand smacking against the top of it.

For a moment, Cale was worried that the little dragon wouldn’t understand. Those sapphire eyes watched him carefully, but there was no immediate response to his request. It was almost like he could see the cogs turning in Raon’s mind before recognition flashed in his eyes.

“Oh! I know, I know!” Raon sat up a little taller, his tail sweeping from side to side. “You think we should call the cookie prince, right?”

The joy that floods Cale is instantaneous as he beamed, happy to finally be understood after what felt like countless failures. For an added measure, he clapped his hands together, hoping that this would all be clear enough. He’d always known how intelligent dragons are, but he felt even more pride in how quickly Raon was able to understand him. Hopefully, it’s not a fluke.

Raon places a tubby paw over the top of the round orb and his mana brings it to life. Waves of blue mana rolled out from that light touch, swirling in the air before it was fed into the device. The crown prince picks up in an instant with a haggard and worried expression on his face, the worry practically engraved in his features.

“Is there– Cale?” There’s something akin to panic that bleeds out from the prince’s tone as confusion takes its place, “Did you call me?”

(Endless stacks of paperwork surrounded the prince. It felt like they only continued to grow at an exponential rate no matter how many he managed to get through in a day. Any normal day, Alver would have found a way to drag Cale into helping him.

And even though the redhead would grumble out complaints, Alver could count on Cale making an appearance. The mountains of paperwork would shrink as the two of them worked into the early hours of the morning. The treasury would surely be a little more spacious after Cale’s assistance, but he appreciates it nonetheless).

In all honesty, Alver picks up the call out of habit.

He’s getting used to the young nobleman bringing him mind boggling news like a cat bringing back gifts. Except, Cale brings back headaches and stress. Then again, Cale bringing back problems for him to deal with was like a cat bringing a live bird into the house and letting go, right?

But instead of that stupidly charming grin and that oily, glib tongue that Alver learned to brace himself for, he's met with a baby. Sure, he'd already known that Cale was deaged due to unknown circumstances, but Alver couldn't stop the baffled huff of laughter that bursts free. Red tufts of hair sticking up wildly, round yet sleepy looking eyes, ruddy cheeks that reminded him of freshly baked buns. Baby Cale Henituse was mere inches away from the device, eating up all the space. Alver can see how those grubby hands pressed against the glass of the device. There's stars that dance in the boy's rust colored eyes like sparks flying from a blacksmith's anvil.

Aaooh

As maddening as Cale Henituse was, Alver couldn't help but feel enamored by the sight. The baby's arms wave up and down as he babbles nonsense for Alver to listen to. Even as a baby, Cale didn't seem to change, calling the prince whenever he pleased to talk about whatever he wanted. Alver sets his pen down to the side. He's been working for who knows how long, but there’s a dent forming on the knuckle of his fingers from all the writing. Perhaps it was time for him to take a break.

“Yes, my dearest little brother?” Alver replied, turning his attention towards the call entirely.

The prince rested his cheek in the palm of his hand, attentively listening and giving his own replies. There’s a sliver of space that the baby doesn’t take up on the screen and he can see the ancient dragon moving behind him. Alver is met with a glorious view of Cale’s chin as the boy looks up at the dragon looming over him and then the video is all over the place as Eruhaben lifts Cale into his arms. The communication device is set down on a table and carefully slid out of reach so that Cale could use the ledge of the table to pull himself to stand.

“Invite me to the palace,” Cale demanded, the palm of his hand smacking against the wood, “Invite. Me. To. The. Palace.”

“Aww, do you miss your hyung?” The crown prince coos at him.

For a split second, Cale’s expression jumps from withering disgust to blank to a bright, gummy smile. “Hyung-nim, you absolute fool,” Cale smiled.

Alver blooms at this, completely unaware of what Cale had actually said to him, “Maybe my cute little brother would like to come visit me?”

Eruhaben pulls the boy to sit when he gets a little too excited at the prince’s words, one hand like a brace against Cale’s stomach. Cale throws both of his hands up in a way that he’s seen the boys do many times before and cheers as best as he can. It’s embarrassing, but he’d rather return to his normal age sooner than later. If the prince had the nerve to tease him for it, he’d surely regret it when Cale leaves him to complete all his work alone.

-

Ron returns around lunchtime with a trolley in tow, its wheels gliding across the floors without a single squeak. It seems that he and the children would be eating separately from the others today. Jugs of water and juice sat on the top most tier of the trolley, nestled between a few plates and bowls. Besides them, a bottle of milk bobbed in a small bucket of steaming water. On the second tier, various delectable sandwiches were neatly arranged onto flower rimmed plates, held together by decorative toothpicks. The chef made it a habit to stick ones with flags or other fun designs into the food he plated up for the children. Today, the ends of the toothpicks had little paper cats.

The way that the butler sets the plates on the table shows just how much experience he held under his belt, each dish placed down with great efficiency and care. As the children joined them at the table, Ron set a bowl of porridge in front of him. Unlike the sweeter variety that had sliced fruits and syrup, this one was garnished with: a halved soft boiled egg, diced and cooked mushrooms, fresh cilantro, and a small splash of seasoning. Compared to the previous meal the chef had prepared for him, this one looked just as delicious as what everyone else was served. Just like the night before, Cale sat comfortably in Eruhaben's lap as Ron pulled out a seat for himself. He scooted in even closer until one of his knees was tucked between the dragon's. Using the spoon, Ron cut off a small amount of the egg and scooped up some of the porridge.

“Young master, the Duke and Duchess had asked that you return home for dinner sometime,” Ron told him, using the spoon to wipe off the corners of Cale's mouth. “It seems that they'll have to be informed of your current state.”

Cale frowned as he took another bite. It wasn't that he was hiding what had happened, he just assumed that it was something that could be fixed without others needing to know. Knowing how his father was, the man was bound to make a scene one way or another.

“Cale wants to visit the crown prince,” Eruhaben chimes in a little hesitant.

“Oh?”

“Yes,” The sigh that the dragon breathes out brushes against the top of the boy's head. “Aren’t you a little too unlucky?” Slender fingers gently pinch Cale’s cheek, “Last time you went for a visit, you returned as a baby…”

“Exactly,” Cale says after swallowing, “And this time, I should return as an adult.”

It's not like they could understand him, though. Eruhaben lightly scolds him about speaking with his mouth full. He hadn't been. Cale feels a little wronged because of this.

“Will we go too?” Hong asks, his face a mess of crumbs.

The ancient dragon’s hand twitches where he’s holding Cale, and judging by the state of the boy’s face, Cale could probably guess what the dragon was thinking.

It’s Raon who ends up giving an answer instead, “But we already promised to play with the wolf siblings!”

Sneaking a peek at the golden dragon, Cale was thoroughly entertained by the grimace that marred the man’s handsome features. Raon had replied to his brother, spewing out spittle and crumbs as well. Ohn, having witnessed it as well, had a matching expression to Eruhaben’s.

-

Cale wasn’t sure how his trip to the capitol turned into both the butler and the dragon tagging along. Eruhaben held him comfortably with one hand supporting his front and one arm underneath his legs as the two of them watched Ron bustle around the bedroom. After they all finished their meal, the boys had taken off running, leaving an exasperated Ohn behind.

The silver haired girl elegantly dabbed at her face with a handkerchief before sliding out of her seat to follow after Raon and Hong, “I’ll be going first, then.”

In the past months, Violan had taken her under her wing, patiently teaching her etiquette in small bite-sized lessons whenever they’d stop by the estate to visit. Ohn had taken to the lessons with ease, but her brothers weren’t too interested. No matter, if they didn’t want to, then they didn’t have to.

“Bye-bye!!” Ohn called out to him, grinning sweetly.

Cale blinked, watching as she gave him a two handed wave before disappearing into the hall. It was warm where his back was pressed against Eruhaben’s stomach and it was surprisingly comfortable to be held in this seated position as well. Plates clinked as they’re placed atop one another, a deft hand carrying their weight with ease before depositing the stack into the trolley. Before long, the table is back to its pristine state, its surface wiped clean of all and any mess that the kids had made.

“I’ll accompany the young–”

“I’ll go with–”

...

The butler’s hands tightened where he held onto the handle bar of the trolley, his eyes curling into perfect arches. A part of Cale was glad that it wasn’t him in the old man’s grip, but he wasn’t sure that being in Eruhaben’s hold was any better. Especially not when golden particles wafted out slowly from around them. Did the two of them despise each other? How could he never catch onto this before?

“It’s quite alright, Sir Eruhaben, this Ron here can take our young master on his playdate,” Ron’s voice was level, but somewhat teasing. Was he really picking a fight? “The young master is too young to teleport after all.”

“No,” Eruhaben bit out in reply, his lips forming into a sharp grin as the golden dust fanned out even more. “It’s quite alright, I can accompany Cale to the capitol just fine.”

They hadn’t had any problems like this before???? Cale’s eyes darted between the two of them, switching back and forth from one to the other. Just yesterday, they were doing fine, so why did it feel like he was about to get caught in something troublesome and dangerous?

Hic!

Immediately, both the dust and the tense air dissipated with the tiny sound. Cale, who was stuck between them, jolted with another hiccup as the attention turned towards him instead. Whatever animosity they held had vanished into thin air, Ron carefully plucking him from the dragon’s grasps and laying him onto his shoulder. The benign smile softened into something more authentic, the corners of his eyes curling into crows feet.

His gloved hand gently smoothed up and down the boy’s small back, “What happened?”

Eruhaben hovered just beside them, slipping a finger into Cale’s hand as he watched the butler try to cure his hiccups. It really wasn’t that big of a deal, Cale thought, a tiny noise bursting free again. Eruhaben let out an amused sigh, spinning around to grab the bottle from the bucket once more. It only had a small amount left, but maybe a few sips would help.

The two of them moved around each other without the need of a single word. A silent waltz that the two knew by heart. Carefully, the hiccuping baby was cradled in Ron's arm, his eyes tracing after the streaks of stardust that danced around the dragon's fingers. Then, the bottle was passed over to the butler, its milk pleasantly warm again. Cale hiccups again, the way his shoulders jump a little because of it draws a laugh from the two of them. Cale accepts the bottle out of habit now, his hands reaching up to rest on Ron’s much larger ones. It's a curious thing, really. Rust colored eyes flit from the dragon to the butler, wondering just what had the two of them jumping at each other’s throats a few seconds ago. Yet now, they returned to the comfortable, safe presences he'd grown used to.

(If Cale had to make a guess, it'd probably be Ron. The sly old man loved to poke and prod at people behind that proper front he put up. It wouldn't surprise him if he'd been bugging the dragon when no one was looking).

“What are you thinking about so intently, hmm?” Eruhaben coos softly, easily sidling up to them and reaching in to smooth a thumb over Cale's cheek.

The boy's brow furrows a smidge as he swats at the dragon's hand. There were other things to worry about now! With the two of them so hard set on accompanying him to the palace, that should raise the chances of being understood by a lot. Before, Eruhaben had come to the conclusion that his de-aging had been caused by an ancient spell or curse. Even with the… intensive investigation, the dragon still wasn't confident with his response. If Cale could get the book to him, though, he'd surely be able to figure it out quicker.

(Cale is small in Ron's lap, his cheeks squished against the butler’s hand pressed to his front to steady him. The day had barely begun and yet the baby was letting out a weary sigh, completely relaxed as Ron softly clapped a hand against his back.

It must be hard being the little young master, Ron mused to himself).

It's hard being a baby.

He's held by Eruhaben now as Ron plucks outfit after outfit from the wardrobe. Both the butler and the dragon were earnestly picking out the clothing to pack for their trip. In all honesty, though, Cale didn't think that many outfits were needed.

“That one,” Eruhaben says, adjusting Cale in his arms. “Cale should wear that one once we arrive there.”

In Ron's hand was a white shirt similar to what he wore as an adult. Around its collar sat a bundle of frills that clipped in easily instead of needing to be tied on. Unlike his normal clothes, the buttons on this shirt were replaced with easy snap ones. The shirt was paired with a pair of navy blue shorts and white socks. It was completely normal compared to the cutesy clothing that Ron was picking out… too normal. Cale narrowed his eyes at the dragon. There has to be an ulterior motive.

“...Rowoon's tiny shield…” Eruhaben murmured beneath his breath, completely proud of his choice.

There it was.

Cale didn't think that Eruhaben would be the type to keep up with the dumb gossip of the nation. Having been holed up in his lair for so long, Cale would've thought the dragon wouldn't care about the dumb nicknames!!

Chapter Text

When the two old men both insisted on going with him to the palace, Cale didn’t think it’d end up like this.

-

After practically stuffing the entire wardrobe’s contents into luggage, Ron set to work in packing up all other necessities to last the duration of the carriage ride. Since Cale was a baby, neither Ron nor Eruhaben felt comfortable enough to use teleportation magic. A part of him really wished that they’d just take the risk and do it though. Rugged roads jostled the carriage as the horses trotted along, but thanks to the plush seats, the ride was comfortable and smooth. It didn't really affect him though. Since the beginning of the trip, the dragon had insisted on carrying him as well, not that Cale would complain about it.

The carriage was wide enough to seat three people on each side comfortably with an extra space to spare… So why was Ron crowding into their space?

Nestled in the dragon's lap, Cale watched as the butler returned Eruhaben's glare with a cloying smile. With a pacifier in his mouth, Cale simply raised a brow in response. Ron's smile seemed… odd compared to the usual benign one he'd plaster on his face. This one held a great amount of amusement as mirth danced in the man's brown eyes. And much to the dragon's dismay, the jostling of the carriage meant that their knees touched with each bump and turn.

Mindlessly, the boy's fingers grasped at the dragon's golden locks, scrunching and twirling the strands.

“Do you mind?” The dragon grit out, his golden eyes narrowing at the man sat across from him.

The golden dragon’s building irritation was almost palpable from where Cale was sitting, causing him to wiggle around a bit, but even then, Ron didn’t budge. If anything, the butler’s smile only seemed to thicken. Cale squirmed under the uncomfortable tension, his brows knitting together as he tried to break out of Eruhaben’s hold. If neither one of them were going to move over, he’d be the one to leave.

“Let go,” Cale demanded, his words garbled around the rubber dummy, “Since you two are so hard set on sitting together, I’ll just go sit by myself.”

The tension that sat heavily in the air shatters in an instant as two pairs of eyes soften the moment their gazes settle on him. There’s a silent conversation between the two that Cale can’t parse, but in the end, he’s being passed over to Ron.

Gloved hands carefully checked him over, turning him around dangling him in the air like a scruffed kitten. When Ron held him in front of his own face, Cale nearly shrieked in embarrassment!

“What are you doing?!” Cale asked, his legs kicking out to make any sort of space between them. The pacifier is long forgotten by the boy as it falls to the carriage floor with a clack.

Ron let out a pensive humm, “...No need for a change yet.”

The boy’s angry swats and kicks are avoided with ease as he’s passed back to the ancient dragon. With a wave of the hand, the dragon’s mana responded to his call, dancing and twirling with too much glamor for simply cleaning the rubber dummy off. It’s his last saving grace while traveling with the two of them, so Cale accepts it gratefully. Ron readily ignores the baby's annoyance as he reaches out to poke and prod at Cale's sides. The ticklish feeling jolts through him like electricity, making him bury himself even more into the dragon's safe embrace. Not that being in Eruhaben's vicinity would do anything to save him, though.

-

Oddly enough, Cale didn't know what to think about the situation he's found himself in.

Even after traveling for hours Ron had yet to lose his amusement in…

whatever this was.

With all the space in the world in this carriage, the butler remained sitting right across from the dragon. Cale doubted that Eruhaben would “give in” and move his seat, but he did have a feeling that even if the dragon did move, Ron would move as well.

The old man's teasing was similar to how he enjoyed serving Cale lemonade knowing that he hated the twisting, sour taste. But the difference in this was that neither of them were willing to back down.

(Eruhaben did, in fact, kick Ron a few times though, much to Cale's surprise).

The wrinkle between the dragons furrowed brows will become permanent sooner rather than later and it's all thanks to Ron's incessant bugging. Well… Cale wasn't so sure what exactly the two of them had going on… but he was aware of how the butler's presence grated on Eruhaben's nerves.

Painfully aware.

“Get lost before I make you,” Eruhaben grits out. It makes Cale wish they'd let him go even more.

Ron's benign smile takes on a hint of something more as he leans in closer in the guise of interacting with the boy. His gloved fingers took Cale's hand and squished it gently.

“Ho?” Ron tilts his head a little at this, greeting the dragon's threat with an eye smile like perfectly curled crescent moons. “What might you do?” He purrs out.

Ron Molran. That insane bastard was asking to get thrashed!

(Ron had spent the past hour or so poking and prodding at Eruhaben’s already fraying nerves like he had nothing better to do. It made Cale a little more grateful that the man usually rode with the coachman up front, but it also made him wish that this time would be no different.

What was odd to him, though, was the little comments and references the two would throw at each other.

“Your old age must be catching up to you. Have you already forgotten everything?”

“Perhaps you can help refresh my memory?” Ron says.

“Shut your mouth.”

Ron’s smile only thickened even more.

What nonsense was the old man saying?

Had the two of them met before? Before now, there hadn’t been even the slightest hint that they had. If anything, Ron behaved just as Cale had grown used to, and he thought that the dragon was just standoffish because of his pride.

But then again… how often did he ever see the two of them alone together..?)

“You're insane,” Cale mumbles, shocked at the old man's shamelessness. “You're actually insane….”

Cale stiffened in Eruhaben's hold in anticipation of the dragon’s response. Hurriedly, he shoved Ron's hands away in hopes that the man would finally take the hint and back off. As strong as the man was as an assassin, every person in the world knew that no man could stand up against a dragon. Let alone one that has gained as much experience and prowess as Eruhaben had over the millennium he's been alive.

But yet, Eruhaben's darkening expression seemed to spark some sick sort of joy in the old man.

Ron's hands ghosted over those of the ancient dragon's as though he were about to steal the boy away from Eruhaben's grasp. It made Cale wonder just how bored the old bat had to be. He'd known Ron to be a sadist of sorts, but… this… this was making him out to be a borderline masochist with just how heavy of a threat hanging over his head.

“Ron I'm trying to save you from your APPARENT DEATH WISH,” Cale growled out, furiously squeezing Ron's fingers.

“Our little young master is so playful today,” Ron coos, wiggling his fingers in Cale's grip.

The ancient dragon was tense as though he were ready to strike out, but the hands that held Cale were attentive and gentle.

“You're so fucking annoying,” Eruhaben hissed, angling his body away so that the boy would leave the butler's reach.

(A rumbling growl curls up and around the dragon’s lungs, seeping through the cracks of his bared, gritted teeth. How impudent. Eruhaben’s arms wrapped around the boy more securely, pulling him flush against his front. Maybe it was his instincts or maybe Ron Molran had just pissed him off enough, but it made him want to keep the man from ever holding Cale again.

But even more than that, Eruhaben wished to wipe that stupidly smug smile off of the butler’s face. He wanted to see the dumb human’s face painted with bafflement and shock instead. Ron Molran had always been perfect at everything he’s done, and that only made Eruhaben want to throttle him even more. It’s been centuries since he last had to put anyone in their rightful place, but that wouldn’t stop him.)

Ron let out a soft tsk at this. “Language, Sir Eruhaben,” his voice was smooth and delighted. Cale knew the old man didn't actually care either.

There's a moment where it feels as though Cale had just blinked and entirely missed an important piece of all of this. It wasn't that he wanted to know. In fact, he found the entire situation annoying and if the two old men had some sort of past meeting, that was none of his business. Cale was perfectly content in not knowing.

(Still, he flicked through his memories to find any moment that the two men had ever been anything other than polite.

And…

Nothing. Zilch.

There was a certain distance held between the two of them. Cale had chalked it up to be the stubbornness that grew with age. Something about old people made them more and more hard headed with every added year.

Maybe it was just their personalities in general as well, but before this, Cale couldn't remember much interaction between the two of them outside of briefly fighting alongside one another. That and spoiling the trio).

That was, until the golden dragon's hand darts out like a flash of lightning. The pristine white fabric of Ron's collar creases and crumples between the dragon's slender fingers. The uniform shirt that Cale had always seen ironed out without a single wrinkle was pulled taut. If this was a tactic to try to steal a response out of the old man, Eruhaben was at a loss. Ron's benign smile grew more smug as the distance between them closed, this time under the dragon's discretion.

Again, Cale was left feeling like a shrimp caught in a whale fight.

The crows feet at the corners of Ron's eyes curled even more as the dragon tugged his collar like a leash. He dragged the butler even closer with gritted teeth, the wrinkle on the bridge of his nose grew deeper.

“Is everything alright, Sir Eruhaben?” Ron asked, raising a grayed brow. None of the dragon's actions had affected him, much to the other’s dismay.

Cale had half expected the assassin to be reduced to a pile of dust. He'd have to quickly find a way to revert to his adult form and explain the sudden loss to the man's son.

How was he supposed to deal with that??

Sorry, Vicross, you know how dragons are. Mighty beings, yada yada yada. Your father was a fool and picked a fight. Would you like to pick where to spread his dust particles?

Cale shivered as chills raced down his spine. Vicross would have his neck next!

Cale was almost a hundred percent sure that he'd spend the next few days traveling to the capitol with Eruhaben, the coachman, and the emptied contents of a Dyson vacuum spilled out on the bench across from them.

But…

It happens faster than Cale's mind can process.

One moment, he's fearing for Ron's life and by extension, his own, wracking his mind for a way to not get caught up in this dumb fight.

And the next?

He's blinking dumbly as Eruhaben yanks Ron in, crushing his lips against his own. If Eruhaben expected it to fluster the man, he was dead wrong. Much to Cale's horror, Ron deepened the kiss, slyly stealing away the dragon's breath.

It's a passionate moment… that Cale's forced to witness for way too long. His cheeks are squished between the two old men's chests. Damn this dumb baby body with its big ass head!! He couldn't turn away! Unable to do anything else, Cale lets out an ungodly shriek.

FINALLY. The two break away from one another. It doesn't happen fast enough.

“Aww, is our little young master jealous?” Ron teases, laughing at the way his little puppy enthusiastically swats at his face.

(Cale screeched, kicking and punching at the man as best he could).

The dragon pulls away with a sharp click of the tongue, his lips reddened from the attention that Ron had showered them with. Ron hadn’t reacted as he had wanted. Eruhaben swipes a thumb across his bottom lip, wiping away any excess saliva. If anything, Ron Molran’s expression had become even more infuriating. It still held the same smugness, but there was just something about it that made him feel as though he had lost the fight. Eruhaben was itching to smack the back of that man’s head.

The dragon turns away with an embarrassed huff, avoiding the man’s gaze. Ron somehow remained professional looking even with a wrinkled collar and a bruised lip. Eruhaben, on the other hand, was a whole separate matter. A cherry hue quickly spread across the dragon's porcelain skin, painting the tips of his pointed ears all the way to his shoulders. His lips were swollen and red, and his previously slitted pupils had expanded into round, black orbs.

Cale really didn't need to know any of this. It didn't matter that Eruhaben had grabbed the other’s collar first. It was Ron's fault. One way or another, it was that damn butler's fault, and Cale didn't want to look too deeply into it. He didn't want to understand.

He just hoped that the trip would pass faster.

-

The moment that the crown prince comes into view, the boy practically tries to launch himself into Alver’s arms. Cale reached out, leaning out from Ron's hold as the group grew closer to the man. He couldn't care less about the stupidly touched expression that appears on Alver's face, nor the way the man seemed almost misty eyed at his actions.

“Did… did you miss me?” Alver's voice held a hint of surprise.

And as tempted as he was to give the man some deadpan stare, Cale found that he did, in fact, miss Alver. Especially after being so horribly misunderstood by these two old geezers for almost the entirety of the time he'd spent at the villa. If anything, a part of him wondered if Alver was his last hope in being understood.

Gingerly, Cale was lifted into Alver's hold. Compared to how confidently Ron and Eruhaben held him, Alver held him as though the boy might break with the lightest squeeze. Honestly, though… Cale didn't doubt that he could. He'd seen the man rip a cork out of a wine bottle with his bare hands like it was nothing.

(But if anything, Alver held him like he was cradling the world in his arms. Carefully and delicately as he looked on with awe).

The royal’s voice is soft, “Where do you want to go? Hyung can take you anywhere.”

Cale peered curiously into those cerulean blue eyes of Alver's disguise. The warmth and fondness that pooled in them surprised him just as much as this soft spoken side of the man. He'd grown used to the persistent Alver who relentlessly chased after the title of king. He'd grown used to the man who'd heave dramatic sighs at the redhead's glib tongue. But this? This was new.

(But if anyone were given a chance to hear these thoughts of his, they'd point out just how wrong he was.

They all held a fondness of their own for the red haired man.

It was just Cale who had always been too blind to see it).

The boy was perched in the blond man's arms with one of his own hooked over Alver's shoulder and the other one free to point. Once he was sure that they were moving towards the library, Cale slumped down a little more comfortably.

The carriage ride was awful.

It was impossible to ignore them when Eruhaben's face lit up like a bright red tomato after that, which only fueled Ron's mirth. No matter how much the dragon threatened the man with violence, it was all watered down by his embarrassment. And so, Cale had become some sort of shield for the dragon himself. It didn't help either since Ron would simply steal him away or move closer to play with him.

All Cale asked for was a nice, relaxing carriage ride. Sleep the whole duration, maybe drink some milk. He really wasn't asking for much!

But noooo! Ron Molran just had to be a bastard.

Resting his head against the prince’s shoulder, Cale let out a deep sigh. This doesn't go unnoticed by Alver of course.

“Even now you're all tired, hmm?” Alver bounced him lightly as he walked, his hand lightly clapping awkwardly against the baby's back. “You aren't getting yourself into trouble, right?”

The amount of doubt laced into Alver's gaze is really uncalled for. He didn't do anything!

Chapter Text

Cale was going to miss not having to move. Peering over the crown prince's shoulder, he took note of their pace. The distance he would have had to travel on his own was... much larger than expected. It would have been a nightmare to crawl all the way to the library, but thankfully, the prince was acting as a nice, trusty steed. Even if he could walk, it would have taken all his energy and time just to see the doors in front of his own eyes.

"Do you want to go look over here?" Alver asked.

The boy's head popped up from where he had been resting it on the man's shoulder, his round cheeks bobbing as he sucked on the pacifier. Nodding to himself, Cale gave Alver's shoulder a light pat before making himself comfortable again. Tasha followed right at the man's heels, dipping down before popping up in an attempt to play with the boy.

"Peek-a-boo!" She cooed, opening her hands up so that her face could be seen... only to be met with a completely unamused stare.

(Odd... she could have sworn that babies loved playing this game. When her nephew was a baby, doing this would leave him with peals of laughter. No matter, she'll figure out a different way).

Something akin to pity prickled at him as he watched as Tasha made attempt after attempt of trying to make him laugh. Looking away, Cale's gaze immediately met the butler's own... he didn't want to look at that old man either. Cale turned back to look at Tasha again. He sighed around the dummy, accidentally let out a coo as he did so, which invited a wide grin to bloom across the dark elf's face.

"It's fun isn't it?" Tasha beamed, trying to slip her finger into the palm of his hand. "Did you like that game? Should we play it some more?"

Another sigh built up within him and it was nearly impossible to stifle it. Cale buried his face into the fabric of Alver's shirt and used the man's body as a wall to block her out. He wasn't a baby... why couldn't they understand that? What was the point of entertaining these silly little games when they could be working on figuring out a solution to all this?

(Unbeknownst to Cale, a grin had spread across the prince's face, wriggling and straightening out as he tried to stamp down his reaction.

It was a wonder just how many different sides of him Cale Henituse managed to drag out. Alver had spent nearly his entire life living in hiding, perfecting his expressions and actions until he was sure that he'd never he caught off guard again.

But then came the infamous lout, Cale Henituse, with his fiery red hair and his penchant of getting himself into trouble.

His sworn brother, now shrunken.

Tiny and helpless in his arms... it kindled a sense of protectiveness in Alver's chest).

As they neared the door for the library, the boy in Alver’s arms perked up once again. Cale’s usual stoic expression had transformed into something rather adorable. Instead of giving off an air of nonchalance, the young noble looked seconds from falling asleep. But with the entranceway in sight, Cale’s eyes widened, the rust hues filling with stars as he began to excitedly pat and point in the direction he wanted Alver to take him.

(Much to Cale’s dismay, this was the only way to ensure that the rest of these fools understood exactly what he wanted).

The heavy doors open with a groaning creak, but the crown prince does it completely with ease. Cale is greeted by the scent of old books, which only solidifies the fact that he’s really back in the palace’s library. It had taken over a week for him to finally make it back here, so he needed to make sure to find the book. If anything, Cale was glad that it was Alver that was carrying him at the moment. The day he had become a baby, Ron had taken him to visit the man before they had left. The man’s awkwardness around him hadn’t gone unnoticed by the boy. Cale needed to take advantage of that.

Cale wiggled in the man’s hold, squirming and kicking until Alver nervously looked towards the old men and his aunt for help. Luckily for Cale, the three of them didn’t look too interested in helping the man, too amused by his struggle.

“Let me go,” Cale kicked at the man, “Let me down!!”

The hands around the boy’s torso tightened a bit before Cale was being hugged a little more firmly. Alver’s blue eyes were wide with shock as he grappled to maintain a good hold on him, his steps faltering before stopping completely.

“Wha- hey… wait,” Alver stammered out, pulling his elbow in close to his body to try to pin the baby. “No, stop, stop… you'll get hurt…”

Alver turned towards the butler as best as he could while holding onto Cale, “What do I do??”

Placing a hand across his chest, Ron replied with a benign smile, “Our young master has gotten antsy from being carried all day. It's fine to put him down. Young children around this age enjoy exploring the world around them on their own.”

As Ron had given his reply, Cale sat nicely in Alver's arms as if he hadn't just been trying to make the man drop him. Alver narrowed his eyes at this.

“So now you sit still…” He muttered out, “down you go, you little troublemaker.”

A sense of unease fills the blond man as he takes in the innocent grin that blooms onto Cale’s face. It’s awfully cute… with a gummy smile and curled eyes… but there’s just something about it that leaves him cautious. Maybe it’s because even if he’s a baby, it still is Cale Henituse afterall. For a moment, Alver doesn’t let go of the boy, his hands still holding him under his arms even as Cale’s feet make contact with the ground. He’s hunched over uncomfortably, but surprisingly enough, Alver didn’t really mind it. With the help of his hold, Cale takes a few wobbly steps without a single complaint. And as small as he was, he still managed to lead them.

It was amusing that just as Cale led them as a commander, even now, they all continued to follow him as if it were natural.

After a few more steps, Cale decides to give up. Walking on his own two feet was taking way too long because of how short his strides were now. Even with Alver’s hands there to support him, he was barely making any progress! If anything, it just made things awkward…. It was like he was being paraded around with how everyone else was trailing after them as well.

Cale gives in when his knees wobble, pulling the prince’s hands down with him as he plops down onto his butt. Sticky hands push Alver’s away, and Cale begins his escape. Now, this? This was way more efficient. Cale’s palms smacked against the rug as he shuffled down the long aisles of books. Ron and Eruhaben dutifully followed behind them, their pace slow and leisurely as the boy soldiered on. Every now and then, Cale would stop, and look around as though to check how far he’s made it.

(It really wasn’t that far at all, but they didn’t say a single word, not wanting to discourage the boy’s adventure).

Cale moved confidently through the sea of books, guiding them to wherever he pleased with ease. It looked as though Cale was on a mission, Alver thought, and maybe he was. Knowing the red haired commander, there was nothing normal about the man. No matter how Alver tried to prepare himself, Cale always managed to surprise him without fail. It wouldn’t be surprising if this part of him hadn’t changed even though his age did. The group followed the boy into a deep corner of the library. It was close to the little reading nook Cale loved to hide away in during the day, curling up on the love seat Alver had ordered for him. Cale crawled up to a bookshelf that capped the end of this aisle, effectively turning it into a deadend. Using the wood of a shelf that sat at his eye level, Cale pulled himself up to stand.

“This one!” Cale tells them, the dummy now abandoned on the carpet, “It’s right here!”

(It was adorable just how much the young master enjoyed reading even as a baby).

“Look! This is the damn book that cursed me!” Cale patted at the gold embossed spine, peering over his shoulder to look back at them all.

His fingers scrabbled against it, struggling to get a good grip on the damn book. Has it always been this difficult to pull out from the shelf? Did the librarian pack too many books onto this shelf? Frustration grew within him, twisting around in his chest like twining vines. Originally, the spine of the novel fit comfortably in the palm of his hand, but now his entire splayed hand could barely reach across the width of it. For the first time, Cale cursed himself for always choosing thicker novels.

(Cale’s bottom lip jutted out in his frustration, his cheeks puffing out as well. The way the boy was unaware of how he was stomping made something bloom in the dragon’s chest. Just the sight of it filled him with the urge to swoop in and squirrel Cale away into the safety of his lair– to keep him away from that damn butler).

Eruhaben took a step forward, the pupils of his eyes were blown wide as Cale continued playing with the books. The dragon easily found himself crouched beside the boy, his own hand enveloping Cale’s as he assisted in pulling the novel out. It hits him then. Eruhaben’s brows settle into a deep furrow as he takes the hardcover book into his hands. Flipping it open, he was hit with a familiar scent. It was the same one that lingered on Cale even now, barely masked by the baby’s powder-fresh smell.

He scooped Cale up off of the ground, holding the boy in a way that allowed him to sit comfortably on his forearm. Of course, Eruhaben stood up with the book held in his other hand. Ron’s by his side in seconds, annoying and attentive as usual. He had to force down the sigh that bubbled up. The deep emerald cover held an image of a broken hourglass that was embossed in gold. Beautiful, if anyone were to ask him. He’s not allowed a single second more to admire it because of how the boy’s hand landed harshly across its cover, smacking it over and over again. Curiously, Eruhaben watched. A mix of exasperation and relief swirled around in the boy’s eyes, and honestly, it wasn’t too hard to guess why.

Cale had been stuck as a baby for a few weeks now, and the secret to helping him revert back had been here all along. Yet, before he could even try to communicate that, he was whisked back to the villa.

An inquisitive look settled on the butler’s face as he stepped closer. His lips were pressed tightly together, his hands moving from where they were neatly clasped in front of himself. “May I?” Ron asks.

Eruhaben gives a slight nod, holding out the book towards the man, but instead, Ron steals the boy away from the dragon’s side with a small click of the tongue. Embarrassment bubbles up a bit at this as Eruhaben quickly makes himself busy.

(Cale doesn’t miss the grumbled curse that the dragon lets out under his breath

Neither does Ron, apparently, with how his eyes curled with mirth. This might be the only chance he’d get to do this without the assassin killing him… Cale’s sticky palm lands square in the center of the butler’s face. There’s not a single trace of regret in the baby’s eyes as the butler traps his hands within his, softly chiding him. That’s what he gets).

Ron fusses over him, his touch light as he checks over Cale’s knees for any sign of discomfort. Any dust is patted and brushed off from the boy’s clothes. Cale squirms in the butler’s hold, still holding a grudge over all of the harassment he’d been forced to witness previously.

“Let me down, you old man,” Cale grumbled, preferring anyone else but him right now.

The man himself never seems to get it though. Ron reaches into his coat’s inner pocket, pulling out a new pacifier to placate Cale. The old one had been tucked away into the man's pocket to be cleaned later. Now that he’s checked over his well being, they could move onto figuring out what would come next.

-

The group settled into the prince's office. In fact, Alver thinks that Cale and his group made themselves a little too comfortable in his office. The dragon sat with his legs crossed, languidly flipping through the pages of text. Alver moves to stand at the soft rapping that comes from the door, but before he could get too far, it opens with a small wave of the dragon’s hand.

Whose office was this really?

A lull of quiet drifts into the office as Tasha wheels the cart in, but it’s not because of anything serious. No, it’s due to the fact that everyone’s attention has been diverted to the little young master yet again. Cale perked up at the sound of the rolling wheels and the soft clatter of the ceramic wear as the cart rolled over the carpet. Round eyes watched curiously to see what the dark elf had brought back, no longer paying any attention to the leisurely flipping of the pages.

Something Ron had noticed was that the spell had caused a major increase in the young master’s appetite. It had stolen away the years and maturity of Cale’s body, and left him as a growing boy. This fact had become very apparent in the way the boy required multiple snacks throughout the day, just like the other young children. Though, it doesn’t seem like Cale was aware of it.

Patiently, or... As patiently as he could, Cale watched as Tasha settled the cart at the end of the coffee table and began setting the assortment of snacks up. Ron’s gloved hand moved to wipe away the drool that dribbled out from the baby’s mouth, drawing a bark of laughter from the dark elf at the indignant squawk Cale gave.

The spread of cookies were a little different than what Alver usually had ready for him and the kids. Instead of the sweet, jammy cookies or the ones embedded with chocolate chips, today’s batch looked rather… plain in comparison.

“Today, we have lady fingers and shortbread cookies,” Tasha announced, “They’re made with less sugar with our young master in mind.”

Cale paid no mind to the warm gaze that the dark elf threw his way, but if anything, her words helped wipe the skeptical, overprotective look from the others’ faces. Had they been the regular cookies, Cale had no doubt that he’d have to resign himself to longingly staring at them.

(Eruhaben and Ron were a little too overprotective for no reason, a little sugar wouldn’t do anything).

The dark elf subtly glanced towards the crown prince. His demeanor resembled one of a man in the midst of a serious discussion. Alver’s eyes were glued to the baby as he watched as Cale reached out to grab one. The butler’s hand was braced on Cale’s stomach to ensure that he wouldn’t fall off from the seat. With little grace, Cale brought one of the cookies up to his mouth and chomped down on it. The reaction was almost immediate.

Those sleepy, reddish-brown eyes sparkled as the boy reached out to snatch another from the place. Again, Tasha’s faze drifted towards her hardworking nephew. Only this time, she caught sight of something akin to genuine pride flickering across Alver’s face.

(It was honestly laughable just how this tiny babe had her nephew wrapped around his fingers.

Alver had burst out from his office, his expression bright and determined as he walked briskly down the halls. When she had asked where he was headed, Alver had given her a simple, short answer in response.

The kitchen.

It took all her strength to keep the amused chuckle from slipping out – so this was what he was bustling about the kitchen for).

Alver cleared his throat into his fist, hiding his expression behind his hand as skillfully as he could. “...Please help yourself.”

It was a bit late seeing as how the young boy was already munching away, but even with his invitation, the butler and the ancient dragon made no move to partake. Instead, Eruhaben pulled a canister of formula out of thin air with a swirl of gold. With the amount of elegance in the dragon’s movements, you’d think that he was preparing to pour the most perfect tea. Carefully measured out scoops of powder were poured into the glass bottle before the scoop was tapped against the rim. Then, with another wave of the hand, the extra water prepared for tea flowed through the air like a dancing ribbon, smoothly transferring into the bottle as well. With a circular movement, Eruhaben swirled the bottle until the contents mixed together, and then pressed his palms against the bottom half of the bottle. It intrigued Cale greatly. The way that the dragon prepared everything was entirely different than the familiar way Ron did. Tilting his head, Cale watched closely with a cookie shoved in his mouth.

(Ron stifled his amusement behind his benign smile. The dragon was being extra flamboyant because he was aware of the little eyes watching him).

Crumbs littered the entirety of the couch now, but not even the owner of the office seemed to mind. Not when they were all met with the sight of wonder filling the boy's eyes like a starry night sky – expressions like these filled their chests with a sense of affection that spread like wildfires. They were ones that they were only able to see because of the fact that the boy lacked his usual schooled expression. After dabbing a few drops on the back of his hand, Eruhaben scooped the boy onto his lap and handed him the bottle. Well, attempted to.

Cale was the epitome of spoiled. The lout-turned-baby made himself comfortable on Eruhaben’s lap as though he weren't a grand, ancient dragon. Having refused to hold the bottle himself, the golden haired elf resigned himself to doing it, albeit a little more enthusiastically than he'd ever admit. The marigold hues of the dragon's eyes held a warmth that could rival a warm spring day's sun. Eruhaben's distant demeanor had gradually been sanded down by his proximity to Cale and the bunch, and whatever remained was now smoothed out into a fondness that only a parent could hold.

Now that he was comfortable, though, Cale seemed even more aware of everyone's eyes on him.

Their gazes pricked at his skin, but that didn't deter him from enjoying the refreshments. Cale had come to enjoy the common courtesy of snacks, and being any younger wasn't going to stop him from helping himself during a meeting as usual. Though… it was a bit awkward to be receiving this much attention. The others forwent the offered snacks to watch him, their cups of tea starting to cool after being left untouched. Yeah, even with as thick of a face as his, Cale was beginning to feel awkward. They were acting as though they’d never seen a baby before in their lives.

The boy held out the remaining half of his cookie to the dragon. It was a little soggy and all but dust in his grasp, but Eruhaben only seemed to preen at the offer.

(He only offered it as a way to try to encourage the others to pay attention to anything other than him. Though… if he were the one on the receiving end, Cale felt like he'd have trouble masking his disgust.

Children were gross… and as much as he loathed to admit it, he was definitely included).

Chapter Text

Thankfully, after painstakingly becoming the center of attention for who knows how long, the others remembered what they had originally moved here for: their next course of actions. The boy was now comfortably nestled in the arms of the butler as everyone turned their full attention to the book in the dragon's grasp. Relief filled the boy at the familiar shade of emerald. Cale shuddered at the thought of what could have happened had he not managed to return here to retrieve it.

A complete "restart" from this young of an age? Would his memories of this life and the last eventually be forgotten the longer he remained under this spell? Cale didn't want to know. Sure, there wasn't much he had to do as a baby, but this wasn't the slacker life he wanted. If anything, he'd probably go mad if he had to grow up again from this age.

(The brief shiver doesn't escape the assassin's keen eye. Ron pulled the boy closer, opening up the blazer to use it as an impromptu blanket of sorts. It wasn’t proper, especially in the audience of the crown prince, but he couldn’t have the young master getting sick).

“From briefly skimming through the pages,” Eruhaben carefully flipped from one page to the next, “The contents of this book seem to encompass the topic of time.”

Golden eyes traced the neatly curved letters of each word, moving from line to line to quickly take in as much information as he could. A furrow forms between Eruhaben’s brows in his concentration, the room falling silent around them. No one dares to break it in fear of disturbing his thoughts.

A deep, exasperated sigh slips from the dragon’s lips as he brings a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “It’s written in an infuriatingly roundabout manner,” Eruhaben grumbles out, “It’s not something that can easily be solved at this moment. It’ll likely require a few weeks at best…”

Those same goldenrod eyes sweep over towards the boy. Hesitation bleeds into the distress that flickers across them, his lips pressing into a tight line. A few weeks. Only the gods knew if the unlucky bastard could last that long… who knew what would happen if he were left in this form. In the centuries Eruhaben had been alive, he hadn’t come in contact with this sort of ancient magic often. He’d spent a huge portion of his life span adding to his expanse of knowledge, but this? This had managed to evade his grasps, and that left him with an odd sense of unease.

Flipping the book over in his hands, it looked to be in pristine condition. Though its contents spoke of methods and theories that traced back to unknown authors, this edition seemed to be more recent. Not a single scratch marred the expanse of green, although that might be thanks to the extensive care. The palace’s library was the largest in the nation, housing books and tombs from even before the birth of Rowoon. Books from fallen kingdoms and books from travelling peddlers – this library was home to them all, and that was likely the reason that the red haired man still came to visit the palace. Though it only seemed to get him into trouble this time around, Eruhaben supposed. Carding through it, Eruhaben flipped back to the beginning pages. Here, the names of the authors, co writers, and even distributors were usually listed. Each name was completely stained with ink, the black of it having permanently seeped into the grain of the paper. No lead here either.

With a snap of the fingers, the book disappeared with a poof of gold. “We’ll head out soon, I want to look more into this in detail as soon as we return.”

-

Both Alver and Tasha make sure to personally see them off once all the preparations are complete. It’s nothing much to prepare, but by the time that Ron leaves to speak with the carriage drivers, the prince had somehow managed to prepare a package of cookies.

“Just because I packed a lot doesn’t mean you should eat it all at once, alright?” Alver said, his pointer finger wagging in front of the boy’s face.

It was one thing to be turned into a baby, but to be treated like one? Cale narrowed his eyes at this. The prince seemed to be enjoying this all a little too much.

Cale turns away from the prince then, moving to rest his head on the dragon’s shoulder instead of entertaining the man’s dumb conversations. The package was neatly wrapped in a cloth for safe keeping, the excess fabric coming together to be tied into a knot at the top. Eruhaben accepts it in his stead, and then it’s disappearing into thin air. It must be spacial magic as well, but it’s different from what the black dragon’s own looks like.

(The dragon watched fondly as Cale reached out towards the flurry of gold, inching closer and closer until his fingers dipped into the galaxy of gold. He had to stifle his amusement at the way the boy tilted his head in thought as the particles dispersed at the movement before slowly melding back together around his hand.

Eruhaben had made it a habit to make sure that no one could access the spaces connected by his magic without his permission. It wasn’t that Cale wasn’t allowed, but the space itself was a cluttered mess. If he had known, he would’ve tidied it up beforehand, so for now… no little hands allowed).

Only after the baby was satisfied with his investigations did Eruhaben let his mana fully dissipate. And then, Cale was back to watching everyone with a bored expression as though nothing had happened. By the looks of it, they’d be ready to head out soon. Afterall, there wasn’t much luggage for the servants to pack.

That damned butler must’ve been thinking the same since he moved briskly towards the carriage and held the door open for them. It was something that Cale was absolutely dreading. He didn’t want to be stuck in that small space with these gay old men again. He needed to think fast, but what could he do? They were overprotective to the point of sacrificing days of travel time.

The dragon took one of the boy’s hands into his own to wave towards the crown prince, much to Cale’s dismay. He felt the irritation gurgle and bubble within him, slowly crawling up his back until he was starting to get antsy. As much as he tried to ignore it, it only seemed to get worse with every step closer to the carriage door. He could see Ron’s stupid, polite smile, and he could hear the dark elf call out goodbye’s to him. On a normal day, none of this would’ve mattered. In fact, he’d probably just sleep through it all. Ok. He was a rational adult and he could get through this if there was no other choice. All he’d have to do was fuss a bit and then the butler would shush him with his stupidly calming pats, and then Cale would be out like a damn light. It’s as easy as that.

There’s something in the way Ron’s eyes glint in the light that sets him off though. The control that he held over his building temper was more like a precariously built dam made up entirely of toothpicks. It wasn’t even nicely woven together, it was just strewn in the general direction of his annoyance with a “goodluck” and a thumbs up.

A sharp screech cut through the air, causing everyone to jolt. Eruhaben’s eyes were wide with shock and his footsteps faltered as he tried to adjust the boy in his arms. Cale, who had been sitting nicely in his hold, was now squirming and whining like the world was ending. The boredom that had settled on his face was nowhere to be found. Instead, his face had quickly become a ruddy, red color as tears beaded at the corners of his eyes. Eruhaben looked towards the other man for help, unsure what to do in this situation. He was a mighty, ancient dragon with endless years of experience under his belt, but never had he taken care of a hatchling this young, let alone a human baby. He readily gave up the boy to the butler, who was quick in his attempts to soothe him.

Ron shushed the boy, his hand gently guiding Cale’s head down to rest on his shoulder as he rocked from side to side. For whatever reason, the boy was simply inconsolable. It couldn’t be that the boy was hungry because they had just watched him eat multiple snacks. He also had a bottle as well. It couldn’t be that he needed a change either, the butler had made sure to check before they’d come out, much to Cale’s dismay. The baby’s face was completely red at this point, his bottom lip jutting out into a wobbling pout. Although Ron was running out of possible reasons for Cale becoming so upset, this image of the boy was more familiar to him. He had always been a fussy baby after all, so this turn of events wasn’t too much of a surprise for the butler. He continued to smooth a hand up and down the boy’s back as he stepped further away, using the space as a chance to direct Cale’s attention elsewhere.

“What’s gotten into you, hmm?” Ron asked, his voice falling into a soft murmur against the crown of the boy’s head. “Are you missing his highness already?”

“As if,” Cale scoffed, his voice a little more watery than he’d like it to be. If anything, the heat pooling in his cheeks and ears is more from embarrassment than frustration now.

Quietly, a pacifier is held out on Ron’s gloved hand. A bribe, perhaps, or maybe a peace offering in hopes of smoothing over whatever grievances the young boy had. The butler was skilled, but he hadn’t a single idea as to why the young master was upset this time around. The boy takes it with a sigh that sounded more like it would come from a weary office worker instead of a pampered little boy.

(Popping it into his mouth, he wondered if this feeling was similar to how a first drag feels to a smoker. He had reached for it without a second thought, his shoulders practically melting with relief).

The butler’s so-called bribe doesn’t last long. With one more placating pat to the back, Ron moves to return to the carriage. He doesn’t make it further than a few steps before the young master is squirming and kicking in his hold.

(Why couldn’t these old men just get it already?)

“Could it be… that he doesn’t like the carriage?” Tasha asks. There’s a thoughtful look to her eyes when Cale looks over at her.

Oohh!!

“Is that true, young master?” Ron carefully adjusts him in his arms so that he can look at the boy’s face. “Do you dislike the carriage?”

Rather than that, Cale disliked how frisky Ron was continuing to get, but yeah, sure. Cale hated the carriage ohhh so much. Of course.

He gives a nod anyways and crosses his arms as best as he could for good measure. The dragon makes his way towards them at this admittance, a small furrow between his handsome brows.

“Should we use teleportation instead?” Eruhaben asks. He seems a little reluctant to ask, almost hesitant.

Cale cranes his head to catch the butler’s response, but the two men only need to share a look to understand one another. Odd… almost suspicious. Cale doesn’t like this.

“Alright,” Ron finally voices, and Cale almost wants to throw his arms up in a childish celebration.

-

He might’ve celebrated a little too early, actually.

Teleporting was a simple feat for the ancient dragon – one that Cale had experienced countless times before. Eruhaben felt compelled to flaunt his exceptional skills, his mana rising from the ground up like a whirlwind of gold. Cale had come to expect this and he knew what would come next, but he was completely thrown off by what did come instead. The small tell tale tug in his stomach was replaced with a sensation that made him feel as though he’d been pulled through a pinhole, flipped inside out, then spat out on a mountain top to go tumbling down its steep sides. Cale squeezed his eyes shut with a small whimper and buried his face into the crook of Ron’s neck. It didn’t do much to quell his uneasy stomach, but he couldn’t help it. Luckily enough, the entire thing only lasted a few seconds, but by then, it had already gotten to him.

Ron carried the teary eyed boy into the villa, leaving their luggage behind in favor of getting Cale more comfortable. The baby’s fist held tightly onto the fabric covering his shoulder. The back of his suit wasn’t as lucky. Eruhaben’s worries against teleporting were completely well founded, but what’s done was done. A trail of white trickled down the crisp black of his suit, slowly seeping into the cloth. It wasn’t hard to clean and even if it was, Ron wouldn’t have minded. It was just clothing after all, the young master’s well being was more important.

Gently, he smoothed a hand over the boy’s back with a small sigh. They really should have expected this sort of reaction, but maybe they were a little too eager. “Are you feeling better, young master? You must’ve been so dizzy, hmm?”

Ron strided towards the young master’s bedroom in an even gait. He hummed in thought, it would be best to get the boy washed up first wouldn’t it? After a bath, he could warm a bottle for the young master, and then tuck him in for a nap. The young master would likely wake up after a couple hours or so – he could unpack their luggage in that time.

The bedroom opened with a small click. Briefly, a frown flickered across the butler’s face. Dust had managed to build up in such a short amount of time, he’d need to air out this room as well. Ron plucked a diaper and a onesie out from one of the wardrobe’s drawers before making his way over to the bathroom. He shifted Cale into a more secure hold before bending down to plug the drain for the bath. Although Cale didn’t kick up a fuss this time, his dissatisfaction was clear to see on his face. Once the water was enough to cover the boy’s lap, Ron turned off the faucet, and shucked off his coat. Peeling off his gloves, he tossed them onto the countertop before rolling up his sleeves and grabbing a washcloth. With it draped over the boy’s front, it helped keep him from fussing from being cold while the butler washed his silky, red hair. Today, it would only be a quick rinse and wash, but he made sure to hand Cale a toy anyway to keep him distracted.

(Cale eyed the rubber ducky with a frown and soon it became a target for his annoyance. It took a while to escape bathing with the old man’s assistance, and now he’s stuck getting sponge baths daily. He seriously needed to figure out how to revert back quickly).

“Hoh?” Ron smiled, leaning against the edge of the tub, “Is our little young master having fun?”

“No.”

“Mr. Duck is taking a bath with you today, isn’t it nice?” Ron brought the damned thing close again after Cale had taken the time to dunk it and slap it away.

“Shut up, Ron,” Cale gritted out.

(Ron is thoroughly endeared by the young master’s grumbling. It seems this time around, he isn’t a big fan of bathtime, but his sulking face was still cute, too. He’d love to pinch at Cale’s pouting cheeks, but that’d surely set off a tantrum… maybe once he’s down for his nap).