Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The beams of early morning cascade through the translucent cream cotton of curtains as they blow gently in the morning sea breeze, bathing the room in hues of blue. The faint sound of light waves crashing upon shore goes all but unnoticed by the soul occupant of the room seated at the desk by the window, the warm glow of the multitude of candles placed strategically around the space a stark cut into the otherwise blue glow provided from the window. Beams of yellow light bounce off of the worn wood windowsill, the spines of stacks of aging books ranging from history to classical literature and drama. 

The teenage boy sits at the desk, a worn burgundy tome laying open in front of him, black hair haphazardly shoved back and to the side sticking out in every which direction at the base of his neck. Paton Yewbeam had sequestered himself to his desk, abnormally long legs stretched uncomfortably for the many hours of the night underneath the small table as he chose to dream with his eyes open instead of sleeping through the previous night, waiting for the blue light of dawn to come seeping into his bedroom.

It wasn't fair, what he had been cursed with he lamented as his stare bore into The Complete Works of William Shakespeare as if he could disappear into the stories weaved within its pages. Pathetic, I am, he thought to himself. What sixteen year old boy spends their nights reading by candlelight, pretending, willing that they would be accepted by their peers finally. Paton leans back in his chair and sighs. He’d thought that perhaps he would one day be able to overcome his horrible affliction, mind tumultuous with the pain of the memories of three weeks prior. A girl had finally shown interest in him, ignoring the taunting voices of their peers that circled the hallways of Bloor's academy to land target on his back. While not all knew of his endowment, those who did mocked or occasionally pitied the tall boy in purple. He often found himself looking up to the wooden masks above the cloakroom, wishing nothing more than to shroud himself from himself. But then she came out of her way to make his acquaintance, coaxing him out of his carefully structured shell.

She told him his endowment couldn't be that horrible, such a repulsive part of himself as he thought. But then he showed her, and she never spoke to him again. Paton knew he would see her horrified face in his mind at the sight of shattering glass for years to come. People stared at him in hallways, snickered behind his back as they whispered about his curse, his oddity. Turning his attention back to his book, he allowed himself the role of everyone else in his department, allowing himself to will the image of he onto that of Romeo. Purple cape wrapped around him despite being home, as if the cape from a stuffy old school ran by an evil old man somehow held all of the answers or as if the piece of wool kept him close to the king this far away from his city. He closed his eyes as he recited lines memorized from the old book.

 “I fear too early, for my mind misgives; some consequence yet hiding in the stars” 

He breathed softly, as in the theatre of his mind volume was of no matter. He imagined himself floating across the stage, a real one, and not simply a classroom reading. If people were going to stare, he wished it would have been for something he enacted voluntarily. In his mind's eye the lights are replaced with elaborate candelabras suspended from the ceiling, flames dancing merrily in the theatre as he acts his heart out, letting his tender and dramatic side free from where he shoves it deep inside himself.  One day, he thinks to himself, I will free myself from the poison upon my tongue that this endowment is. One day, he believes, someone will look past the outermost part of myself and find the man within. 

Paton reflects upon those nights in the old rickety bedroom of his childhood home still to this day, nearly thirty years later. He still possesses the books that had been stacked against his walls, and has added many more to that collection, but on this night in particular it isn't about that. As light from only the stars streams through the blinds of number 9s kitchen window on the particularly moonless evening, Paton feels yet another sleepless night incoming as his eyes glassed over with sorrow. his head fell down in his hands after he cast his jacket and tie on the kitchen floor without a care for what happened to them. He wouldn't cry like he had at sixteen, for by forty-five harsher sorrows have befallen him time and time again but god, it hurt . One thing was for certain however, his connection to the inferral endowment that cursed him for the majority of his life was always central to the plots of his demise. For once, he simply wished he could have overcome what was supposedly a gift. He had ruined his last chance, and he was certain of it. Doomed to himself, like Romeo and Juliet before him. If only he had been smarter, more upfront maybe things would have been different, but that no longer mattered. 

“For I am nothing but Fortune's Fool after all”

He murmured to only himself in the darkness. Fortune's fool indeed, as the gem of a woman he had found himself connecting with in a manner he had with no other was driven  away from him by means of his own. Maybe one day, he will take the stage within his life, but for now he was content to rot in the fast-acting poison that was his own self. 

Chapter Text

Meeting a young girl in the middle of the night who was willing to approach his admittedly intimidating figure walking aimlessly was not how Paton expected his evening to go. Moreso, he definitely wasn't expecting this young girl to ask him if he knew where Ingledew's bookshop was. 

Emma Tolly had fallen into his life at the perfect time, the perfect excuse to go to the only place his legs seemed to want to take him these days. On the other hand, It was a reason for him to finally get something right . His whole world had been turned upside down since that fateful day about a month ago when his nephew began hearing voices from photographs. He noted with no small amusement that in any other family, beginning to hear voices was a cause for concern rather than celebration. It had been like an epiphany that smacked him right over the head, knocking the feigned ignorance regarding his family straight from his very bones as he was forced to watch his sisters test Charlie. He had tried to slip away, not being able to bear the sight of what could very well be the end. A dramatic school of thought sure, but he had been tested many times in his youth. He knew his sisters and their associates, knew them too well for his liking. The biggest mistake his sisters made in Patons opinion, was forcing him to stay in that room and watch as they tested Charlie, watch as Venetia tricked him into revealing himself. Charlie was much braver than he had been at that age. From that moment, a change had sparked in him, and he felt a new man. He looked to the girl at his left and sadly recalled the other thing that had helped to snap him out of his years long silence.

He let his mind take himself back to his first experience of terror through the means of the Bloors. It was the end of his first term, 1968, and he was just eleven years old. For an eleven year old even, Paton had already been rather tall, almost a head above his classmates. As if he didn't stick out enough, he recalled thinking. All term he had attempted to get past his endowment, solidify himself as something other than the power-boosting freak. It hasn't worked, as eleven year olds aren't exactly the most empathetic, and the other endowed children grovelled and complained about having to switch back to a multitude of oil lamps to complete their homework to. So, like any tortured child, Paton fell further into literature than he ever had. Despite their ostracisation of him, watching his classmates read, perform and dazzle brought a warmth to his heart, reminded him of the days before his mother passed and the great curse of power-boosting befell him. He missed the theatre, the drama and the intensive manner in which a story could have life breathed into it. 

In the cold, dark moonlight Paton stood among a sea of purple capes blowing in the breeze. Underneath his cape a precious gift was hidden away. Paton had begged his father to allow him to be enrolled in Drama. James was, unsurprisingly, shocked at this declaration, presuming his son would wish to put his head down and be placed in the art department. He obliged however, and as a parting gift bestowed an old maroon book upon his son. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare had become Patons companion in every moment of fear or despair that fell upon him. By this point he knew many of the works better than some university educated scholars did. 

As lanterns were passed out and students were ushered into the ruin, Paton felt fear fill his body. Once given his lanturn Paton made a careful path to a dark corner of the ruin where he would wait out the game. He had no interest in the medal, far more afraid of the rumours that swirled the academy. Sometimes, endowed students went into the ruin and never came back out. Sitting down on a rock, Paton threw himself back into A Midsummers Night Dream , the fantastical contrast to many other works in the worn book a comfort to the young boy. 

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind”

He whispers to himself. That mustn't be true, one of the larger lies from within this story. What should have been one of the few claims of this work grounded in reality were alien to someone like Paton. Magic surrounded him, taunted him, but affection? He was looked at through judgemental eyes. Paton the Power Booster was all he would ever be. At that revelation, the young boy wept before exiting the ruin. One of his upperclassmen however had not been so lucky. 

Paton blinked himself out of his memories. The girl however seemed content to follow him in near silence, simply humming softly. He looked over to her before acknowledging her.

“Are you alright? I can't begin to imagine where you’ve come from at this hour”

He said softly, so as to not frighten her. This girl too was far braver than he had ever been at this age

“Are you familiar with Bloor's Academy sir?”

“Am I ever.” He began wryly. “My name is Paton by the way. You may call me by it”

He provided, briefly disregarding any ideas of respect or propriety that he supposed he was meant to uphold with children.

“I came from there, Mr. Paton. Some kids from school made me remember myself and told me about a nice aunt who longed to see me. Someone must have told though”

“What did they do to you?!”

Paton asked fiercely, forgetting he was meant to be comforting the shaken young girl

“They put me in a room. But.. I found my way out”

He looked at her inquisitively, but decided that he would let her keep her secret. Hesitantly, he reached his hand lightly to her shoulder, guiding her the rest of the way with as much comfort as he could muster. She turned to him instead of shying away from the touch and asked him one final question.

“Is my aunt really as nice as everyone said she was?”

Paton did not even have to think before replying

“Nice is too simple to do your aunt justice. She's a wonderful woman, and I have on good authority that she wants nothing more than to have you in her life.”

Emma smiled at him.

As the two stood in front of the shop Paton expected nothing more than to be turned away. He had made a fool of himself already, made a fool of her in a way he would feel guilt regarding for years to come. As he called her out, she regarded him crossly, an unspoken expectation that she would rather he stay away heavy in her tone. But when he mentioned Emma when Julia heard her speak it seemed all had changed, and his horrible behavior was excused as she ushered him into the bookshop alongside Emma. He could only hope another accident did not occur. Then she was asking him to wait, before entering the back room. The light from behind the curtain dimmed increasingly as she flipped off the multitude of lamps, replaced with a warmer, more natural light.

“Come in”

She beckoned to him. The room had been transformed, a fire lit and a few candles within the room had been lit as well. Emma was rightfully confused, yet Paton felt a surge of hope at the gesture. Perhaps she had believed Charlie after all. 

The evening shifted to a late night, and the fire grew to a hearty roar. Paton felt he had never been in a room more warm in its appearance. A bed had been made up for Emma on the couch , and Julia sat on the arm of the sofa, marvelling at the fact that she was permitted to run her fingers through her niece's hair as she slept off the most exciting day of her life. Soon she would have one of the small bedrooms upstairs and Julia was elated to have the last piece of her sister with her at last. In one fell swoop, the anger she had towards Paton Yewbeam was erased, for he and his nephew had brought the one thing she desired most to her. In regards to Paton yewbeam, in place of anger and embarrassment came a myriad of questions. If Charlie was to be believed, the man before her had an energy within him that led him to his literal outburst in the restaurant earlier that week. It hadn't been her that drove him away, but fear, rejection and everything between. He had barely spoken a word since she had brought him and Emma in, simply just watching with a smile as Emma shared her story, at least as much as she was willing to disclose. 

She looked over to him, the silence thick between the two of them. Paton, for his part hadnt been so nervous since he was a child, as he teetered on the precipice of rejection and acceptance for who he was. The eyes were judgemental upon those like him. As julia broke the silence however, Paton was unable to wallow in his fear any longer. 

“So I had a rather interesting conversation with Charlie”

“With Charlie”

Paton replied, his tone not questioning, but rather knowing.

“Yes. With Charlie. He told me what actually happened that evening”

Paton looked to her guiltily, unable to meet her eyes and instead focusing on the hands stroking fair hair gently.

“Ah. So my secret comes out”

He said lamely.

“Why didn't you tell me Paton?”

“In all honesty, I wasn't sure how to. It's not exactly an everyday topic. I was worried you’d think me…”

“Think you what?”

She replied as he trailed off awkwardly 

“A freak.”

At this her face morphed into one of shock and pity

“Oh”

She replied simply, unable to come up with anything else. A week ago, she hadn't even believed that Emma would be able to fly. She wasn't well versed in the world of the red king and his descendants, but seeing Paton and Emma in her door frame had flipped any idea she may have had over on its head. Perhaps she had been too harsh on him.

“I have to apologize for not sharing that with you. I have felt so incredibly guilty thinking of the embarrassment I must have put you through. It was wrong of me to ask you for dinner, I just.. I haven't felt any companionship like that you have given me in longer than I am willing to admit. Pathetic, isn't it? Anyways, if you can find it in you to forgive me for my actions… I know I shouldn't be asking that of you but. I simply cannot help myself.”

“I owe you an apology too Paton”

This surprised him, and he looked to meet her eyes.

“I didn't fully believe Charlie to be transparent about you. I was frustrated, and embarrassed. I thought you had made a fool of me. I refused to let myself believe there may have been another answer, that Charlie had not been covering up your distaste in me with a description of otherworldly powers. He told me you had lost control because you thought I was beautiful. I couldn't allow myself to believe that after the evening, and I apologize for that. I should have known better that you would never treat me in that manner on purpose”

Paton was red in the face. Curses that Charlie had revealed what he had let spew out of him that evening when his solitude was interrupted.

“My dear, you have no reason to apologize to me”

He said, allowing the endearment to slip before he realized. She smiled at him.

“Well then we shall both agree to forgive one another. Does that work for you?”

He nearly could not believe what he was hearing. She had seen him for what he was, and looked beyond it for the man behind his eccentricities. His wish came true from all those years ago. To be seen from the mind, not merely the eyes. To have her not write him off as a freak, a man not worth her time was everything to him. 

“I don't know how i will be able to accept that”

He said quietly

“I will forever endeavor to make my behavior up to you”

She sighed before letting a mischievous smile grace her face before reaching out to rest her hand on his that laid on his knee

“I understand. If you must make it up to me, I think an appropriate apology may be giving our evening another attempt- perhaps not in a restaurant this time around.”

His eyes widened before he replied bashfully.

“I think I'll be able to manage that.”

“I look forward to it”

She said, squeezing his hand. For a moment they sat like that, the only noise of the room, the roaring fire crackling and the even breathing of Emma. 

“I shall endeavor to make up for my dishonesty as much as you'll allow. For the moment however, I should head out”

“Yes, it is getting late, even for you”

She teased.

At the door he stood facing her before he departed.

“Just one last thing”

He said. She looked up at him, humming in response

“May I call again Miss Ingledew? After dark?”

He said smiling mischievously, repeating the first time he had requested to return to her company. Her response however had changed, knowing of his affliction, but not caring one bit. 

“I should be disappointed if you dont”

She replied with a smile before leaning up to press a light kiss on his cheek. He looked at her in shock, for once lacking any sort of verbal response.

“Goodnight Paton. I’ll see you soon” 

“Goodnight”

He replied horsley, still reeling with shock. As he made to leave he couldn't stop a wide smile from cementing itself on his face. As he brought his hand up to rest on his blazing cheek, the streetlamp brightened before exploding, showering glass down into the cathedral square. He threw his head back and laughed heartily, for now, he had been seen by the most beautiful of minds. He hadn't felt this happy since he was 7 years old.

Chapter Text

When Paton had gone to Bloors in his youth, he wished nothing more than to be considered separate from his sisters before him. The Yewbeam name was one that was nearly as revered as the Bloors themselves during his tenure as a student, and with the addition of Venetia being with him in the king's room for his first few years it made it hard to keep his head down. The drama department offered him an escape not only from his family but from who he himself was seen as. Even years later he still flinched when he heard the term “freak” shouted at another, but he could never bring himself to step in. It was hard to be him, he felt. Sure, he never went without. His father did his best to give him the best childhood and teen years he could provide, and the house by the sea was a comfort like no other but some days it felt good to just escape. The drama department was running free from the grips of who he was, or who to be. A script thrust into his hands provided him with the ability to run away from something he never asked for. 

As he got older however, there was only so far he could run from himself. Who you are, it seems, always finds its way of reminding you. Books and plays and beautiful things that held his mind enraptured, he recognized were merely distractions for him. That point hit home when he was hit by one of his sisters driving her car. It was his own fault really, enraptured in Shakespearean tales, hoping desperately that he could have just a minute the woman he had already grown far too attached to’s time. Sitting in the hospital bed had him feeling like maybe his sister was right to finish him off. He was just now turning back to face himself, face what it meant to be a Yewbeam. He was forcibly thrown from his books into the far harsher reality of how alone he felt in his affliction, his entire head bandaged filtered out all light, and with it anything able to distract him from his own thoughts. 

She had been a nice change from the loneliness he’d been plagued with since the day he developed his endowment. He screwed up massively and she let him stick around, and beyond that seemed to enjoy the idea of forming any sort of relationship with the man beyond the endowment. He thought of the happiness she brought him on that night, and what he felt in the back room of that bookshop. Finally on the brink of acceptance, it seemed he lost again. Now that he had returned Emma, it had seemed that she had no use for him anymore. It hurt, deeply. He thought maybe, just maybe the bringing what she cared most about would help to concrete himself into her life, even just a little. With Charlie in school and Amy and Maisie not having a car of their own, Paton mostly expected to spend however long he was in hospital alone with his thoughts. Loneliness had become something inevitable in Patons mind, but these days it hurt him in a way it had not since his way back in his school days. The last thing he had been expecting was the sound of the door to his room opening without the accompanying sound of the nurses trolly. Slow footsteps grew louder in sound as they approached his side, but the cause of the intrusion remained silent. He attempted to call out to his surprise visitor, to open his eyes but all that emerged was a choked sound, the exertion of which sent a sharp pain through his ribcage. This wasn't the first time he had been horribly injured, but that was a new sensation even for him.

She broke at the noise, letting a sniffle loose as she stifled tears. Was that Julia? He attempted to speak again, but the harsh pain in his chest returned and the only noise that managed to escape him was a rather pathetic whimper. He reached out as best as he could, flexing his fingers as he attempted to find a handhold to try and pull himself up, despite his incredibly limited mobility. A soft hand grabbed his and stilled its movement, and he found himself jerking away on instinct.

“Oh- Paton.. I’m so sorry I haven’t been there for you. I’ve been absolutely horrible to you. This is all my fault, they found you just outside the cathedral.”

She took his hand tentatively again, and this time he didn't withdraw. His heart was pounding as he heard her settle into a chair by his bedside before she continued speaking to him.

“I’m sorry for neglecting you. Really, I should’ve been more sensitive to how you’ve felt. I never wanted you to think I didn't want you to be a part of my life, especially considering our… conversations about your endowment. If you’ll allow me to, I’d like to stay in your life. Having Emma has been incredible, but I can't say I’m not overwhelmed. Despite that, you never deserved how I treated you and I am so, so sorry”

She spilled through sniffles. For his part, Paton was just glad she couldn't see how red his face had gone. He couldn't deny that he had been hurt deeply by the woeful neglect at the hands of the woman he had come to care all too much for, but his heart ached at the idea that she may have been overwhelmed despite her elation with the abrupt change life had taken for her after he walked through the door with Emma in tow. 

She had forgiven him before, and had cared enough to come and sit with him and apologize. She expected nothing from him.

He squeezed her hand, and her sharp inhale told him she knew what he meant.

I’m here as long as you’ll have me.

Julia followed through on her promise, and Paton found his loneliness soothed through her daily visits. Within a few days he was speaking again, though faintly, and there she was when he needed a friend or anything really. She passed what he had been preparing for Charlie onto him and guided the children best as she could despite the idea that the King's descendants were among her had only just become clear. Paton admired how quickly she had taken everything in stride, and it only made his feelings towards the woman at his side stronger. 

He knew his sisters were the reason for his hospitalization and told Charlie and Julia as much, but it didn't matter to him like it had at first as he came into his recovery.

Yes, Paton couldn't run from himself, or his heritage. Hiding his face in a book was not the answer, and he would make of himself what he wished despite the pain he would inevitably have to face. 

Paton Yewbeam had finally put his head up at last