Chapter Text
2003
Thalassa stared at the group of tour buses that belonged to Troupe Gramarye, a small, squirming bundle wrapped in her arms. A tiny hand peeked out, gripping a lock of her hair and pulling her attention down to the baby wrapped in it. She leaned in and kissed the top of the baby’s forehead, a small tear escaping from her eyes. She was exhausted, having just flown back in from the Kingdom of Khura’in, where her husband had been invited to perform for the royal family… and died in the process.
The tears rolling down her face dropped onto the baby’s face, and he squirmed, kicking slightly and letting out a displeased noise.
“Shh… shh… it’s okay, Apollo. It’s okay,” she said softly, snuggling the baby until he settled down. She then looked back up at the bus.
She knew her father wouldn’t be happy, but she was basically homeless, widowed, with a child. She could only hope he’d forgive her and welcome her back to the troupe.
She took a deep breath, and stepped forward, knocking on the door of the tour bus she knew belonged to her father. It opened, revealing a man with long, black hair, dressed in yellow.
“Th-Thalassa?” he gasped. She smiled slightly.
“Hello, Valant. How are you?” she asked softly.
“G-good… surprised to see you here. How have you been?” he asked, taking in the woman’s exhausted face. Thalassa looked away slightly, the exhaustion only growing. Valant bit his lip, realizing he hit a painful nerve.
“Who’s at the door, Valant?” a voice demanded from inside. The man studied Thalassa once more, before looking over his shoulder.
“It’s uh… it’s your daughter, sir,” he said awkwardly.
Silence filled the bus for a moment longer, before an impatient sigh came from within.
“Let her in.”
Valant stepped aside, and Thalassa stepped up, glancing down once to make sure Apollo was okay. The little boy had fallen asleep, and Thalassa let out a soft sigh of relief at that. She then turned to face her father. He was standing in the doorway that led into a small bedroom, an aura of power surrounding him. To his left, at the table, sat Zak Gramarye. Valant slipped past Thalassa and took a seat next to Zak.
“Hello, Father,” Thalassa said softly.
“Thalassa. I thought I told you that you were no longer welcome,” Magnifi growled, before noticing the bundle in her arms. A sneer crossed his face.
“Please, Father, hear my out. Jove… he died. There was a fire…” Thalassa took a shaky breath, tightening her arms around the baby in her arms. “Apollo and I need somewhere to go…”
“You need somewhere to go,” Magnifi repeated, pulling his eyes up from Apollo and back to Thalassa, still sneering.
“Please, Father,” Thalassa pleaded, her eyes welling with tears.
“Fine. You may rejoin the Troupe,” Magnifi said. His two students glanced at each other, sensing there would be an ultimatum. “If you give him up for adoption.”
“What!?” Thalassa gasped, her arms tightening around Apollo, holding him close to her heart. Apollow squirmed slightly in his sleep, gripping Thalassa’s hair.
“You heard me.”
“No… Father, no. I can’t. Apollo is my son, your Grandson! And… he’s all I have left of Jove. Please, you must understand at least that?”
Magnifi stayed quiet, the look on his face stoic, not reacting once to her words. More tears rolled down Thalassa’s cheeks, and she looked down, studying the boy in her arms.
Realization struck.
“Father… we’re surrounded by press,” she said softly, stroking the baby’s cheek. “What would they say if they found out a Gramarye, direct descendent of the Magnifi Gramarye, was turned away? What would happen to your image?” she asked, never once looking up. Silence once more ruled the small space, making the two students uncomfortable.
“Fine,” Magnifi growled, turning back towards the door into the bedroom with a swoosh of his black cape. “Both you and the… bastard child can stay.”
“But he will never be a Gramarye.”