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He held some satisfaction in finding the baby hideously ugly.
There was some part of him that recognized that all newborns were, in fact, hideously ugly. But the part of him that wanted to hate this child thought that a better baby would be stunningly beautiful. That a pretty baby would have been more good, and pure, and more ridiculous to hate. But this baby was scrunchy, and red, and made raucous noises and putrid smells.
When he had entered, his mother was holding the baby to her chest, smiling down at the disgusting thing as she gently cooed. She looked tired. Gilear, for his credit, was looking at the both of them like they had hung the stars in the sky. His hand was holding her free one. Cathilda was on the other side of the room, having made the journey back to meet the newest member of the family. It seemed that he had beaten Fig here.
“Fabian,” his mother called to him as he was let in. “Come here, Fabian. Meet your sister.”
And because Fabian loved his mother, he did so. He approached the hideous child, and its raucous noises and putrid smells.
“Look, see,” His mother urged him, “she has our eyes.”
He looked at her, those little eyes so baffled by the world they have been brought into. They were, indeed, the same color as his own. In many respects, he knew this baby wasn’t going to look much like him. He had inherited most of his appearance from his father. But his eyes, hair, and ears had belonged to his mother. And they belonged to this child now, too.
As he looked, he noticed just how incredibly small the thing was. It seemed… fragile. It had to be held delicately, and be swaddled like a breakable thing being sent in the mail.
“Fabian,” Cathilda spoke. “Would you like to see something?”
“Hm?” He raised his head to look at her. “What?”
“Place your finger in the palm of her hand. “ She requested.
Begrudgingly, but still gently, Fabian did so. The little hand wrapped around his finger. Its grip was ever so soft, yet it seemed to be the hardest it could hold.
For a brief moment, all that hatred and annoyance at her existence melted away as a much warmer feeling took hold. But Fabian was surprised by the touch, and jolted away. As soon as the contact was broken, all the cold, negative feelings returned.
There was a certain bitterness to him whenever he was around Faellen. Though he’d been out adventuring for the vast majority of her life, it always stung to see what a present mother and a low-pressure father could do for a child. Not to mention, being as she was a full elf, she would get much more time with her parents than Fabain was ever afforded, even without the head start.
Fabian loved his family. There was nothing in the world more important to him than his family. Fig had been easy to accept as a family member, and he had even come around on the GIlear front, so it wasn’t as though he was completely opposed to his family getting bigger. But he had always been the sole focus of his parent’s affections; even with however little Hallariel could focus through his childhood, that focus was always on him. And of course, Cathilda had spoiled him rotten, and even as she was away sent gifts and pleasantries to the child.
The truth was, he was jealous of Faellen, and moreover, he felt lonely because of her. Her childhood was making him realize that his wasn’t as perfect as he had thought it was at the time.
The other annoying thing about Faellen was that she had friends. Ones that were her own age, that she went to school with and played with. They were having a kids birthday party downstairs while he was at the adults birthday party upstairs. And of course he was having a great time; it had been ages since he’d gotten to talk to Fig without the barrier of shitty video calls. Gorgug and the rest of the Thistlesprings were also able to make it, even though they barely knew the birthday girl. He was having a great time. He was nursing a La Croix and everybody else was getting drunk, except his mother, who was deep in conversation with some of the other parents. He was… having… a great… time.
Fabian put down his La Croix and went out to the back yard, sitting in a chair on the patio. It was warm, Faellen’s birthday was in the summer, like his. The sun had just barely gone below the horizon, so it was more light blue than black out.
Shortly after he got comfortable in the mildly hot metal chair, he heard the door open.
He looked over to see who had followed him, and Faellen froze when they made eye contact, dear in the headlights.
They had a stand-off to see who would speak first, which Fabian eventually broke. “Where are your friends?”
She looked away. “They’ve gone home…” Her she answered, her voice still little but more refined than it was even a year ago. “I wanted to catch some fire flies…”
He waited for her to run off, as he would’ve at that age. But when she just stood there, waiting to be dismissed, he said, “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
“Do…” She looked out at the yard. “Can you help me?” She looked back at him, nervous.
Was she… scared of him? No, if she was, she wouldn’t have asked.
Or… maybe she was, but she was trying not to be.
Maybe it wasn’t exactly her fault that she was scared of him, and maybe she shouldn’t be the one trying.
He stood up, “Are we using our hands, or a jar?”
Her eyes widened. Hesitantly, she replied, “...Just our hands… so we can set them free.”
“I bet you can’t catch more than me,” Fabian jeered playfully.
She flushed red, “I-I can!”
“Well, if you want to prove it, then you’d better start,” he advised seriously, before taking off and snatching at the lightning bugs.
“H-Hey!” She started running. “No fair!”
They ran, catching the glowing bugs and setting them free, sure to say how many they’ve caught out loud each time they got one. Eventually, Fabian resorted to dirty tactics, chasing her around the yard and distracting her from her goal.
It gets dark out, and Hallariel calls to Faellen to inform her that it’s bedtime.
Fabian watches as his little sister runs back to the house, the light from inside glowing in the now dark of the night. She prattles on about her birthday, and about how she caught more fireflies than Fabian, and how he tried to cheat.
Their mother closed the door behind Faellen, and Fabian sat back down on the porch.
Maybe, if he wanted to, he could warm up to being a big brother.