Work Text:
"Go home. See your brother. He is now frail, gaunt and aged, like a thrush, exhausted in the darkling." Leta says in a serious voice.
Newt looks unable to understand, confused. He chuckles, "wha...What are you talking? Leta, you want to convince me that Theseus is like a little bird, staying at home, vulnerable and not able to feed himself?"
Leta rolls her eyes, inwardly feeling sympathy for Theseus. Newt is best as a loyal friend, but worst as a little brother. In the family, she means, under Theseus' wing, Newt is completely spoilt. For Merlin's sake, if Theseus had been a fantastic beast of equal size, he wouldn't have had to spend any experience in approaching Newt, who would have done so of his own accord. Newt would have circled him round and round, observing him in every detail, outward and inward, and doing all he could to learn his temperament and preferences, and maybe even come to cater for his preferences.But, poor Theseus, he happened to be a human, and an older, omnipotent human in Newt's mind.
