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A Mother's Intuition

Summary:

Marcille and Momma Touden have a talk.

Notes:

Day 2! Meet the parents!
Uh, sorry for missing a day. I was uh, not feeling the writing. TBH I didn't feel this one either too much but heyo! Also this is all fake lore. Toumomma might as well be an OC for this. Also, while I used the same names as I used in Glitters, this is not part of that universe. I was just too lazy to think of more names for them.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Marcille folded her hands neatly in front of her, eyeing the woman across the table. Tea-time with Lady Touden wasn’t how she was planning to spend her afternoon but alas. It wasn’t like she could turn the other woman down. Plus, Marcille wanted to talk to her. She had spent the better part of the last three months mulling over exactly what she wanted to say, right up until the moment she met Isadora Touden.

The tension in the room was palpable but if Isadora noticed, she ignored it with grace. She took a slow sip of her tea. “You really are a smart girl.” The coy smile she gives the mage is received with a blush. “Laios and Falin both are always so quick to praise you and I can see why.” Another sip of tea and she puts the cup down. “Go on, ask your questions.”

“Does Laios know?”

“Of course.”

The answer surprised the mage. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped. She’ll ask in a moment. “Does Falin?”

“I think she suspects it. But I don’t believe we’ve ever told her directly.” Isidora brushed a lock of red hair out of her face, smiling softly. “She’s a smart girl though. I’m sure she figured it out.”

Marcille looked down at her cup, watching the wisps of milk spread through the dark liquid. She chewed on her lip. Why was it so hard to figure out what she wanted to say? She had too many thoughts and feelings about the revelation.

Luckily, the woman in front of her was used to people who struggled with their words. “Where do you think Laios got the idea?” She hummed, “He really is like his father, even if he disagrees.” The way she said it, soft and full of love, made Marcille blush. For all their faults, they reminded her of her own parents.

Green eyes snapped up, meeting the paler pair. “What do you mean?” Isidora was still keeping something from her. Or maybe there was something she hadn’t figured out? But she was so sure of it.

“Touden men really enjoy putting their necks on the line for their lady mages, don’t they?” She leaned on her hand, smirking. It was such an unfamiliar expression on the usually soft-spoken woman’s face that Marcille faltered.

“I thought your name sounded familiar!” She stood up, leaning across the table. “You’re Isadora Roth!” Excitement vibrated through her as one realization hit her before the other. “I read your books! You’re one of the most talented tallman mages! What are you doing living in a backwoods-”

Isidora raised her hand, stopping Marcille. “It’s simple.” Marcille cleared her throat and sat, sheepishly taking a drink of her tea. Curiosity still leaked off the younger(ish) woman. “I fell in love with an idiot boy from a backwards mountain town.” She sighed dreamily, face flushing in a way all too similar to her offspring.

“But your research..” Isadora Roth had done some of the most in depth research on resurrection and healing magic Marcille had ever found. And occasionally the research had alluded to even more interesting theories and discoveries. Things, no doubt, that were confiscated by the Elves. But that only brought up more questions. How was the woman sitting before her and not in prison?

“I gave it up.” There was a twinge of sadness but only a twinge. “Sometimes we give up parts of ourselves for the ones we love.” She shrugged, “And they probably would’ve killed me.” Again with the casual tone! These Toudens…

“I don’t understand.” They should’ve killed her. Or jailed her until she died. Why did they let her live? Did the Canaries know of Laios and Falin’s lineage?

“Cyril proposed to me and I turned him down. It was too dangerous.” Isidora began to slowly stir her tea as she reminisced. “Our marriage would’ve put a bounty on his head as well. But, the fool he is, that didn’t matter to him. While a village chief may not have much leeway in the grand political scheme, he was well trusted among his people. He could hide me in plain sight.”

“No one ever suspected an incredibly powerful mage to live in a little mountain village in the middle of nowhere.” She lifted her long, beautiful red hair to show a small almost invisible tattoo on her neck. It was barely more visible than a scar and ran along her hair line. “Especially one who has suppressed her mana.”

Marcille gaped, staring at the other woman. If she didn’t have words before, she definitely didn’t now. It explained so much and nothing at all. “I’m still confused, about the Touden men thing?” Everything else had made sense, for the most part. She knew she was getting only part of the story but she didn’t expect to be clued into everything.

“I heard the story of how he used knowledge of the dungeon as a bargaining chip to keep you at his side.”

“That’s because he felt guilty about me using ancient magic to revive Falin..” Of course he would keep her around if he could. He did need her help and they were friends. It made sense, politically as well.

A sweet, sly smile spread across Isidora’s face. “Are you so sure about that?” Marcille felt like a mouse being watched by a cat, or maybe a wolf. Marcille had never doubted Laios’ intentions before but now? When she was so suddenly put on the spot..

“Yes, of course! It’s politically advantageous of me to stay here! For research!”

“Isn’t Tansu more well versed in this particular dungeon’s history?”

“Well.. Yes but-”

“Marcille, sweetling, do you not want to see it?” There was no judgement which made it sting worse.

Her hands flexed under the table. Did she not want to see it? The thing that had been so clear for so long? The thing she ignored in favor of ignorance? Marcille took a shaky breath and shrugged. “I’m just scared.”

The silence is threatening to overwhelm her until the gentle scrape of a chair on hard floor breaks it. A warm arm slipped around her shoulders and a gentle kiss was pressed into her hair. Isidora smelled like green tea leaves and lavender. Her mother wore lavender too. “I’m sure he is too.” Isidora tilted Marcille’s face up to study it.

“How do you know? That it’s not just..” Marcille paused, not sure of how to phrase her question in a way that didn’t burn.

“You can call it a mother’s intuition.”

And maybe a little begging from a frustrated younger sister.

But Marcille didn’t need to know that~

Notes:

Laios and Toudad out here risking their lives for hot girls or something idk. This got way out of hand. I'm sorry.