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Of all the ways Daeran's family made him proud, the fact they were an assortment of oddballs was perhaps his favorite. One of his partners was a cocky alchemist whose flights of whimsy he had never seen matched (not to mention the whole ‘willingly giving up mythic powers to be mortal’ thing), the other a fast-talking con man turned philanthropist. And their children were shaping up to follow brilliantly in their footsteps.
That said, just because he was proud of their eccentricities didn’t mean he couldn’t be concerned.
It was storming on this particular day. Rain lashed against the windowpane, and when he cared to look out of it, Daeran saw several of his wife’s prized plants being jostled by the wind. Ariadne and Woljif were away for the day, wrapped up in work for their charity and leaving him and the children all by themselves. Perhaps that was a good thing - Ariadne would likely be beside themselves if they saw the imminent danger the garden they’d worked so hard on was in.
Daeran was, for once, seated at his desk, fighting the urge to start grumbling as he made his way through a mountain of paperwork his cousin had sent to him. It was hardly his fault those Numerian mages tried to break into what they thought was the royal vault to find several artifacts of dubious existence. He did warn them the place was heavily trapped. Several times. But no, Galfrey insisted on believing he and his well-placed, verbose warnings were responsible for those plebeian imbeciles attempting to break into her personal chambers.
Until the paperwork, his only regret had been that he hadn’t been there to see all of their faces.
Just as he was considering the possibility of losing the papers in the fireplace, there was a polite knock at the study door. "Come in, Marius," Daeran called, for his son was the only one in the household who did not just swan in to any location he felt like.
The door opened and Marius peeked his head in, chestnut brown curls bouncing as he did so. "Hey Dad, do you mind if I study in here?"
At that moment, Daeran thought nothing of it. Marius had been a frequent fixture of this room for years - ever since he had been able to walk, the boy had always managed to find his way in here.
"Of course! Your usual spot awaits you." Marius needed no further invitation. The boy hurried inside, kicking the door closed behind him as his hands were full of a miniature alchemist's kit. That didn't surprise Daeran in the least either - ever since he had received the kit for his ninth birthday a few months ago, Marius had carried the set around much like he had various stuffed animals when he was younger. He returned his attention to his forms, he and his son settling into a comfortable silence.
That was, until a sound most unusual reached his ears. Laughter, specifically that of teenage girls and too shrill to be that of his daughter Silaena’s.
Looking to where Marius seemed far too engrossed in his exercise book, Daeran said in a deceptively light tone, “I wasn’t aware we had visitors.”
Marius froze, his quill going still. Slowly, he glanced up at his father. “Um, those are some girls from school…they came to see Silaena.”
A perfectly reasonable excuse, were it not for the storm, and one that made him instantly suspicious. Silaena was outgoing and personable, to be sure, but it wasn’t like her to invite company over in such weather. And then there was the fact that his son, who was so often attached to his sister’s hip on days like today, was choosing to play with his chemistry set in his study instead of getting into who knows what mischief with his partner in crime.
If Ariadne were here, they’d tell him to leave well enough alone. Their children are getting older, and can learn to handle things in their own way, on their own time. But if Ariadne were here they’d also probably find a way to interfere anyways so that point was null and void. Daeran decided to take a page out of his partner’s hypothetical hypocrisy.
“I see. And you’re not out there entertaining our guests because…?” Daeran kept his tone sing-song, partially to let Marius know he wasn’t angry that he had apparently forgotten his manners, partially because he had a feeling he already knew the answer.
Marius appeared to shrink in on himself, picking up his quill again just to scribble in the corner of the page. It took several minutes before he finally whispered, “Because I don’t like them.”
“Ah.” Daeran made the comment nonchalantly, so as to appear off-hand and not like his mind is spinning with a thousand different reasons that his sweet, even-tempered son wouldn’t like whoever these strange girls were. Furthermore, there was a doubt eating at the back of his mind. “And your sister…does she like them?”
Marius’ curls bounced as he shook his head furiously. “No, she doesn’t. They just showed up and told us that it was rude to turn people away in this weather. The first moment she got a chance Silaena told me to slip away and she’d take care of them.” Marius’ face fell, tears welling in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I…they scare me.”
A flash of white-hot anger coursed through Daeran. “Why?” he asked, voice low. Marius’ eyes went wide as he took in his tone - he rarely got angry, especially around his children, but there had been a few moments where they’d seen this side of him. It usually ended badly for the subject of his ire.
For a moment, it looked like Marius wouldn’t even answer him. But finally, he said, “They make fun of me…they make fun of our whole family, but especially me. They say we’re all weird, and I’m the weirdest one of the bunch. That I don’t belong at school, because I’m a tiefling, and that I’m not actually your son and that I’m…”
Marius trailed off, rising up from where he had been lying on the ground to sit. His eyes were full of unshed tears, worrying the quill in his hands so much that Daeran was sure it’d be a frayed mess by the time he was finished. He knew the things said about him and his family. Now he saw the mistake he and his spouses had made in believing those things would only be targeted at them.
Daeran shifted, his anger fading as discomfort set in. Soothing his children had never been his strong point - Silaena had once set the curtains on fire when he attempted to with her. He was the fun parent, the permissive parent. Even Woljif managed to put his foot down more often than he did.
But he was also protective to a fault, and right now he had half a mind to find these interlopers and teach them a lesson. Preferably in a way that would be considered morally acceptable and wouldn’t see him spending the night in the doghouse later.
He was still contemplating the best course of action when there was a shriek from down the hall, one that would have been the envy of many a demon in the crusade. He and Marius shared a look - his son looked panicked, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.
Then the study door opened and Silaena waltzed in. Her hands were covered in red.
“Dad, I hope it’s not a bother, but some acquaintance of ours from school dropped by and they desperately needed to get home, so I sent them along in the carriage.” She was idly wiping her hands on a cloth, now stained completely red, as if this were a completely normal exchange.
Daeran stood in stunned silence for a moment. Finally, he said, quietly, “Silaena, darling, you didn’t…that’s not-”
“Oh, heavens, no! What do you take me for?” She looked genuinely shocked that he would even suggest such a thing, “It’s ink. One of our guests used a not-so-nice word to describe you, Dad. I was so shocked to hear you described in such a way that…well, I couldn’t help but drop the vial of calligraphy ink I had been showing them. All over her pretty new dress she wanted to flaunt in front of me.”
She grinned at him, positively beaming with delight. Slowly, Daeran felt himself return the smile.
Yes, he was definitely proud of his family.