Work Text:
Marvin stares down at the piece of paper on his writing desk. It’s still blank, even days later, even after Mayael has suggested numerous things to write. How her health is, how the house is coming along, how the restaurant is.
But he figures that none of those things will be particularly comforting to a man locked up because of mental health issues. He frowns and taps his pen against the paper.
What would even be comforting? He barely knows the man. Barely was willing to accept that they were even related until a few weeks ago. The wounds are still too fresh.
He grits his teeth; may as well write something, so he grabs some scraps of paper to put a draft on instead.
We’ve been informed of your internment, for lack of a better word. I don’t have the coin to send your way, but your doctor suggested that a letter would help, so I am writing one.
Way too formal.
How are you?
Too… obvious. He purses his lips.
He’d been that low once. To the point where he’d almost abandoned his now-wife. The stress. The anxiety. His own struggles are far from over, but at least he’s gotten beyond the point of… ending his own life.
He can’t imagine wanting to do it multiple times, but it’s no longer a supposition; it’s reality.
He bites his tongue.
I know you feel guilt for leaving me behind. That mother did too. But if I’m being honest, it’s hard to desire a life that I didn’t know existed. And knowing that my siblings died makes me relieved, in a macabre sort of way, that you and mother left me behind after all. If that hadn’t happened, I may not be alive. I wouldn’t have met my late wife. My nieces and nephews. My friends. I may not have even met Mayael.
I would not have known sorrows or joys that I know now. I would not have known the depths of despair, or the peaks of elation.
I have been where you are now. Perhaps not as bad, but I did attempt to end my life once. Partially. I almost killed Mayael multiple times because of that stupid stone, and I figured that leaving her forever, leaving my children forever, would be the answer.
It wasn’t. It never will be. I know that now.
Things are difficult, and I cannot even begin to imagine what you have gone through, but for better or worse, you are my father. And I do want you alive.
It may sound empty coming from someone else, but I know where you are coming from. The despair. The dread. The anxiety. I’ve lived it all too. And though I don’t blame you for it, I blame you now for the stress you’re currently causing.
Fjore asked about you. She still cares about you, even if it’s not in the way you wanted.
I want you to be there when my children are born. I don’t have a family anymore, and though I may have rejected it when you first met me… I do want you now. Alive.
Perhaps your sorrow is now an addiction… as somnus was for me. It’s comforting when it is consistent. I know well how it is. You get used to the chaos and the despair. I attempted to throw my life away again and again on the battlefield. I almost died when Mayael found me.
I’d forgotten how to enjoy being alive because I kept living in the past.
My kids will be here in the future, so I want that future to be with you.
I want to reiterate that I don’t blame you for anything; I didn’t even know you existed. But I know you’re here now. You know I’m here now. I want you to be there later too.
Your doctor said I can’t visit yet, which is why I’m writing this letter. So if you survive and get better, I’ll come. She said Fjore won’t be allowed, but I’m alright. I’ll get some aether potions and go to Sharlayan. The price doesn’t matter. If I could pay money to see my wife again, I would. I know you’re the same. I have the chance now, to see you, and you have the chance to see me.
Please don’t let that chance go.
A long, awkward pause.
It’s… weird to say this, but I love you, dad.
There’s not a lot of meaning behind that phrase yet, since I don’t know you, but in the future, we will. So I’ll say it now, alright?
I’ve never had a father before. And I don’t want to lose him now.
It’s a good enough letter. Maybe. He’s not sure if Valre likes flowery words or long-winded declarations of intent, but… it’s good enough.
He pens it on a better piece of paper and folds it into the envelope before he seals it with some wax. He and Mayael don’t have anything like a family crest, and he’d long lost his Doman family’s affects, so for now, a simple seal will have to do.
He takes Rael’s claw and stamps the wax around the sides to make sure it sticks, and though the dragonet grumbles, he doesn’t pull away.
“Right… hopefully he reads it. And understands.” He rubs Rael’s neck until he purrs. “It’s been a hassle for you as well, huh? But things will get better now. And hopefully for him too.”