Archive of Our Own

Malleus loves Lilia. It’s a simple fact of nature, as much as the purple edges to clouds in the evening, and the rotation of the moon. He’s loved him for as long as he can remember, since he was still a little scrap of a thing, struggling between his dragon and fae forms. Chasing after the general who spoke to him sweetly, and slipped him pieces of candy without his grandmother’s permission. 

Lilia had grown to be something of a mentor figure to him, teaching him to fight and caring for him through much of his childhood. Always there when he needed him, though sometimes disappearing for long lapses of time when he didn’t. “It’s what he does best.” His grandmother had once snarked during lunch, when asked where the bat fae had gone. “Running away.”

Still, Malleus could only think of him fondly. Through the excitement of learning to wield a sword once he was old enough to maintain his fae form, the many years of running around with the older fae, in between lessons his grandmother had him attend. A hundred halloweens passed, a hundred birthdays where lilia would bring him a gift just after midnight, commenting on how small the boy still was jokingly as he tossed it over. A thousand gold-tinged childhood memories to drown out just a few dozen flashes of frustration at being left behind.

Then his hundredth birthday had passed, officially a century old, and Lilia just passing 600. Their relationship had begun to shift now, clearly and easily as Malleus came to a number of realisations. He was coming into his own now, a few inches taller than Lilia already, and developing a silver tongue just as good as his. The court still treated him like a child when he sat beside his grandmother, but they were starting to refer to him as a ‘young man’, and he wasn’t redirected out of rooms and hallways quite so bluntly anymore. 

He began to hear the gossip that floated through the halls, whispered but still audible to draconian ears, and enticing in their tones. He learned to stand quietly at the edge of corners, relaxed casually. Chasing each word with satisfaction, even if he hardly knew who anyone was gossiping about. Of course, that also means he heard the whispers about Lilia.

“Don’t mind that one, you know he’s just the queen’s pet.”

“I still can’t forget how vicious he was. That look in his eyes.”

“He’s just so childish, and not an ounce of respect.”

Malleus realised, slowly, that while Lilia is a good 500 years older than him, he certainly doesn’t act much older than him. He’s old enough now, that with a few shared lunches and barely allowed adventures, he finds himself calling Lilia his friend.

As nice as that is, comfortable, it’s at this time he begins to realise his grandmother is right. Lilia runs away often, over slight embarrassments and flashes of anger. Being chided by the queen can have him disappearing for days, and a scowl from Malleus can have him lost for a week or more. More and more often he finds those words ringing in his head, “It’s what he does best.”

There isn’t much he can do about it though, just grits his teeth and waits for those golden moments. Time continues to march forward.

He makes efforts to not let his frustration show, to keep Lilia happy in what ways he can, so he won’t run off to that damned cabin in the woods. He swallows down the pain he feels at it, because expressing it will only make the problem worse. He values their time together more, and starts skipping lessons with the older boy to have more time together.

He’s not entirely certain when he started thinking of Lilia as a ‘boy’.

A few decades later, he catches himself thinking of him as a ‘younger boy’ for the first time. They’re having a picnic lunch, enjoying the warmth of summer and laughing over stupid comments.

Lilia is talking around bites of a sandwich, and Malleus can’t help but chuckle fondly at it, reaching out to swipe a bit of sauce from the side of his mouth. Gentle, the same way Lilia once had for him as a little boy. Perhaps it should shake him when the thought passes, but if anything it feels warm in his chest. Lilia, in some way he doesn’t know how to word, is still just a ‘young man’ himself. Excitable and jumpy, and always just as glad to play with him as Malleus is. Like a little brother, but with the experience of an older one. 

Something about the descriptor makes him smile, so he lets it settle in his mind. He’ll be Lilia’s big brother then, and he’ll take care of the boy who was clearly forced to grow up too fast.

Of course, it’s a bit harder when his little brother insists on running away. Disappearing at least once a month now, leaving the castle halls free of his giggling laughter for days at a time. It continues to scratch at Malleus, simmering in his chest into something he can only vaguely call annoyance.

The answer to his annoyance comes to him unexpectedly. Late one afternoon, walking to his grandmother’s office to hand off his homework sheets from the day. Something he had taken to doing now, in an attempt to prove to her how quickly he was completing them, and perhaps to convince her to let him move along a bit faster. 

He’s reaching out to the handle when he stops. Ears twitching at sounds from behind the wooden door. A sharp striking sound, and a pathetic yelping noise. 

The first thought to cross his mind is that it’s odd for his grandmother not to have the room silenced. A spell in place to limit any passing guards from hearing what they shouldn’t, and prevent nosy teenagers sneaking about. 

The second thought is that the voice he heard yelp belonged to Lilia.

It happens again, the yelp a bit louder this time, and he moves before he can process it. Turning the handle and pushing his way inside in two long strides before his brain catches up, and he stills once more. Halfway onto the rug, shoulders stiff, and eyes taking in the sight before him. 

Lilia is bent over the edge of the desk, face buried in his arms and hiccuping his breaths. His trousers and undergarments are on the floor, in a messy pile around his feet, only his toes bracing the ground. He’s too far around the desk to see his ass properly, but his eyes still trace over the marks he can see. The edges of red lines wrapping over his thighs, painful looking and thin. 

It takes a moment for his brain to understand what they are, to take in his grandmother’s form where she stands over the younger boy. One hand on his back to keep him over the edge, and the other wrapped around the end of a thin black cane. She gives him a moment, studying him in equal measure, with those sharp eyes of hers.

She says nothing, but her next movements are certainly intentional. Raising the cane once his eyes have caught it, continuing to follow its movement, breath caught in his throat as it lingers in the air for a long moment. Then it comes down, landing sharply against the bat fae’s thighs. Lilia cries out again, voice breaking into a hiccuping sob at the end of it, and Malleus can practically see the tears dripping down his chin from past his arms. 

He can’t stop the idea from forming in his head, once the seed has been planted. He leaves the office without a word, brain stumbling through the thoughts. 

The thought of grabbing Lilia by the collar when he finds him again, in his room and packing away his belongings with clear intent. Preparing to run off for a day or six once more. Pressing him over the end of the bed and thrashing him until he promises to stay. To try to work through whatever has him running. 

It’s a frightening thought in some ways, to change their relationship again, but in such a substantial way. To insert himself as something of a mentor in Lilia’s life.

And yet, he does. Not even a full month later, and in exactly the place he had imagined. Though perhaps a bit different than his first imagination of it. 

Lilia isn’t quite as willing to bend over as Malleus had hoped, perhaps even expected, commenting in high, anxious tones about how Malleus can’t do that, that he’s a grown man. Malleus doesn’t listen, though perhaps he should. Instead he folds the smaller boy over his lap and pins him there with his free hand like he had watched his grandmother do. Tugging down his shorts and applying his palm sharply to thin cotton underneath. Until Lilia is hiccuping and kicking over his lap just the same, sniffling out apologies for trying to run away without telling him first. 

After that it becomes routine in their relationship. Malleus tugging him aside for a warning smack when he says something disrespectful, pinning him over his knee when he tries to run off; and occasionally pressing him against a tree to smack at him when he breaks his own rules during sparring matches, forgetting a limit he had given against flight until he's already three feet in the air. 

During a private dinner one night, his grandmother comments lightly about him ‘taking a rather unpleasant job off her hands’, and he can only blush and nod. No reason hiding something he had been rather obvious about to begin with.

Somehow, their relationship survives the change, hardly even seems to change at all. They still fall into a rhythm, to the tune of brothers, and the tempo of friends. Even if Lilia rapidly becomes familiar with the shape of his hand, he becomes even more familiar with the curve of his smile, and the soft tone of his voice after such an occurrence. 

They spend even more time together, Lilia even starts sitting in on his lessons now, after too many comments from his Queen about how he wasn’t doing anything with his life since retirement. If the queen has any thoughts about their friendship developing, she smugly keeps them to herself. 

It’s after his 150th year, when Malleus has begun to be involved in court decisions, seen as a man now in the eyes of the fae. Still feeling awkward and immature, too tall for himself and always a little too thin for his pants. Lilia had told him once, in between his ever-continuing lessons, that the humans would call him a ‘teenager’, the phase they experienced when their ages were in the numbers which ended with ‘teen’. Neither children nor adult, but something uniquely in between. It felt like a reasonable comparison. 

This year, his 161st, seems to drag by. Summer more hot and humid than they had experienced in decades, and the winter beginning to creep in already frigid. It’s a day late into October, that Lilia returns from one of his ventures to the woods. Finally with a request to Malleus and a concrete return date. 

Malleus can hardly dwell on that though, when he takes in the frantic and afraid look in Lilia’s eyes. The bundled blanket in his arms, that shifts every few moments and emits soft noises. It takes a few minutes for Lilia to calm down enough to let him approach, and see the snow-haired baby within the folds of fabric. 

Thus, Silver joins their life, and Malleus learns what it means to be a father. 

Consequentially, this leads to another shift in their relationship. Where Lilia begins to stay in the cabin full time, taking care of the little one. Malleus visits as often as he can get away with, staying overnight after his lessons and entire days when he can get away with it. Helping care for the child that takes quickly to calling him ‘mala’. 

Lilia takes well to the role of father as well, especially with one so much smaller than himself. Picking up dedication and responsibility as if he had never shaken them off after the war, but dressed in gentler tones, and soft melodies. He finds himself under Malleus’ hand far less often, and Malleus is equal parts appreciative of his growth, and saddened at the loss of connection it brings. 

They begin to connect in other ways though. Touches beginning to linger a beat too long, smiles growing soft and dopey within the homey walls of the cottage. Sitting together later and later into the night, warmed by blankets and a fire in the hearth, until the night it happens. 

Leaning a bit too close into each other's space, shoulders brushing as Lilia giggles at something Malleus has said. Turning to face him, eyes catching like a cheesy romance movie. It’s even cheesier when they kiss, gentle and hesitant and interspersed with light laughter and blushes. 

Malleus gets the invitation on his 175th birthday, in fancy looping text that glitters on the page. Night Raven College, a magic school frequented by those ‘teenaged’ humans Lilia had spoken of so many years before. Certainly well below the level of education he had already navigated, but glimmering in its potential. Not to mention the allure of four whole years away from his grandmother’s watching eye. A taste of freedom even sharper than the cottage provided.

It takes another year for Lilia to agree to it. To admit to his own invitation, yellowed and brittle from the years since he had received it, far too busy at war to consider such fantasies. A letter to the headmaster confirmed it was still a valid offer, an NRC invitation was one which never expired. 

It wasn’t hard to convince him from there. Silver was already growing into a young man of his own, 15 years old and well enough into his training to begin it on an official level. Already fast friends with the boy named Sebek that Lilia trains with him, which hardly leaves room to worry about him being lonely. He could move into the barracks of the castle, and begin to prepare for his future role as one of Malleus’ retainers. One year, and then they could hope that he received an invitation as well. 

He begins his training two days before they leave, swept off in the black carriage to begin their own education. Even in different places, all three of them step into the next phase of their life together. 

Malleus becomes a housewarden during his second year. With Lilia beside him as always, and Silver now wearing the Diasomnia uniform with them. Training has brought something new out in him, even as he falls asleep just as easily as before, and slacks off on his assignments just the same. He stands taller, shoulders square and level, and calls him “Malleus-Sama” now with a firm look on his face. He eats his vegetables without complaining, and there's a new smoothness in his joints when he spars. 

Malleus can see the change it brings in Lilia too. The boy hasn’t tried to run away in years now, but Malleus can still spot the itch as it builds in his shoulders. The way his eyes focus out of windows so much more often, and his handwriting gets lazier in his notebooks. 

Silver still calls him father in private, but he can see the way Lilia begins to shrink away from the word. Confused in his feelings towards Silver in a way that can mean only one thing. 

The relationship is shifting, just as it had for them all those years ago. It’s unavoidable in its certainty, and he stumbles over his words when he finally brings himself to explain it to him. He’s simply younger than Silver is now, at least in the ways of the mind. 

For what it’s worth, Silver takes the information easily, nodding along as the pieces click together in his mind. Observations of his own over the years sliding into place, and he adjusts to it quickly. It takes some time for him to switch to Lilia’s name fully, but its progress. It eases the itch in Lilia’s shoulders, and his smiles come softer and easier again. The secret stays between them, but spreading it to Silver goes a long way to soothe them all, and comfort their dynamics.

Malleus and Lilia’s second year passes without incident. Malleus begins to question whether he misses having them. 

Their third year it happens. In as spectacular a way as Lilia can manage it seems, with a god damned farewell party.

Malleus doesn’t take it well, in any sense of the word. Can’t bring himself to pin the boy down how he had in the past and force him to stay like that. To make him cry out his feelings properly, and explore the issue with him.

Something feels wrong, feels untouchable, under the weight of Lilia’s reasoning. 

He holds the feeling in until it bursts, dripping out of him like the ink down his face, desperate and heavy. It’s a wonder anyone manages to pry him off that edge, to pull him back to the present. 

“I feel younger.” Lilia admits to him a few days later, sitting on his bed with him and trying to parse the awkward space between them. “Well, not in the other way but. My magic feels stronger, my back hurts less too. Something about what you did… helped.” 

Malleus nods along like he understands. It doesn’t matter if he really does, he knows this is a good thing. If Lilia is feeling younger, then he isn’t going to leave him. Not yet at least, and he can put the painful anxiety to rest like everyone is trying to convince him to. Lilia will be with him, for at least a few years more. Longer if he can convince him.

He can’t find the words to respond though, running a nail along the patterns stitched into Lilia’s duvet. He isn’t any more sure than Lilia how to cross the divide his overblot has left in its wake. How to reach back in time to what they once had, when everything felt warm and comfortable between them. The silence stretches.

Days trickle by, the two sitting together often even as they fail to pass words between them. Watching the clouds on the school’s green, or relaxing in an almost-comfortable silence while Lilia taps away at games on his phone. The tension eases slowly, but surely. Until Lilia rests his head on Malleus’ shoulder again, and cards his hand through his hair before saying goodnight. 

Still it feels awkward though, the two practically dancing around each other, exchanging enough words to feel okay, to complete their tasks for school reliably, but not enough to truly feel recovered. Lilia still shies away from him if his expression turns too dark, and Malleus struggles not to still feel pinches of annoyance at the boy’s attempt to flee. There’s still an undercurrent they haven’t repaired, something chewing at the edges.

Lilia lasts exactly two weeks before he breaks. They’re sitting on Malleus’ bed, the smaller boy leaned against him; eyes staring into nothing and the screen of his phone long dark in his lap. Malleus is equally silent beside him, eyes trailing over the smaller boy’s frame, taking in details. The softness of his face, and the depth of the bags under his eyes. The way his pajamas hang off him, slightly too big in a way he insists is comfortable, the end of a sleeve tangled up in his fingers. The bob of his throat as he tries, and fails, to put thought to word. 

He waits patiently, until Lilia’s eyes finally, bravely meet his own. His lips parting slightly in hesitance before he can drag the syllables forth.

“You… need to punish me Malleus.”

Malleus can feel the way his heart jerks in his chest at the words, a confusing twist of emotions that he can’t quite parse. He can only hum a noise, an encouragement to his bat as his thoughts stumble.

“Like you used to.” Lilia adds, spurred on by the noise, hands twisting in his lap. “For running, again. I…” He bites his lip for a moment, but releases it faster than Malleus can chide him. “I want to be able to move past this. So you need to spank me, so that you can forgive me.”

Malleus swallows around the feeling of his heart in his throat. “I already forgive you.” He breathes, words soft and genuine. He has, he’s said the words no less than five times by now.

“You haven’t.” Lilia asserts, voice firm as he reaches up to cup the dragon fae’s cheek carefully. “You want to, I know. But you haven’t, you still look at me like I’m going to do it again any moment. So you need to do what you did back then, so that you know I’ll stay.”

Malleus hisses out a breath at the words, sharp with the ache of how the words dig into his chest. Lilia isn’t wrong, as much as it stings to admit, as much as he might have convinced himself otherwise. He still lays awake some nights, well past his self-imposed bedtime, worrying that he’ll wake up tomorrow and find Lilia’s bed empty. Still sits with his side pressed against him at meals, as though the contact will help keep him there better. 

Finally, quietly releasing the breath burning his lungs with how long he’s held it, he nods. 

“Alright, I will.” 

Lilia smiles at him encouragingly, but he can still see the anxiety that pools in the other’s eyes. Can still see the shake in his fingers when he moves them back to his lap. He can’t bring himself to move yet, still a bit paralysed with the situation.

Maybe it’s the fear of hurting Lilia, that this isn’t the right way to handle this. Maybe it’s how long it’s been since they’ve done this, certainly a good five or six years now if he thinks on it- simultaneously far too long, and not nearly long enough. Regardless, long enough that the act of putting the boy over his lap has developed a foreign air, like something he isn’t meant to repeat.

He hesitates for long enough for Lilia to take the initiative, a determined tilt to his lips. Pulling away from him and pushing the blankets off their laps. Meeting his eyes with a little huff before flopping himself down, wiggling to adjust himself over his lap until he gets the hint, readjusting his legs to hold him properly. 

He looks just as small there as he always has, perhaps even smaller now with Malleus’ most recent growth spurt. Practically swallowed up by the dark fabric of Malleus’ nightgown, and when Malleus tentatively lays his hand across his bottom it nearly covers both sides. 

Lilia gasps a little at the feeling, looking back at him carefully. “I’m sorry.” He offers softly, voice fragile on his lips.

“I know.” Is all Malleus can say in response, closing his eyes and forcing himself through a few deep breaths. Lilia wants this, has made it more than clear. To get the guilt out of both of their chests, and move forward. He wants that too, and if this is what that takes, then he can live with that. 

There’s still a familiarity to the feeling of baring Lilia’s bottom, pushing his pants and underwear down to his knees and rubbing a palm against his skin. To press his free hand to the small of the boy’s back, thumb rubbing in soothingly. As though it had only been days since he had last gone through the motions.

“Only this time.” He says firmly, confidence coming back in shaky steps as he adjusts to the situation. “I won’t punish you for this more than once, okay?”

Lilia’s lips twist a bit, as though he wants to argue, but he only holds his gaze for a moment before flopping back down with a huff. “Fine.” 

Malleus nods, and lifts his hand into the air. He’s stopped by a firm “But”, hand hanging in place as he waits for the boy to continue. “I need- your hand isn’t enough for this, then.”

The words hang for a long breath, a break from their normal. Malleus has only ever used his hand on him before, it had always served its purpose fine. Never had he taken a switch to him, or a cane like his grandmother used, even when he was truly frustrated. He had never needed to. 

He lowers his hand carefully, rubbing against the skin as he considers the request. It’s arguably fair, few things that have led the bat fae over his knee have had such consequences in their lives, had been more than a passing rebellion or emotional act. If anything is worth more than his hand, this is a strong contender.

He nods finally, raising an eyebrow at the other. 

“What should I use then, Lil?”

“Your belt.” He answers automatically, voice small but certain. As though this was something he had long figured out. He probably had, after so many days of turning the events over. Malleus can only nod, trusting his judgement.

It doesn’t take long to move Lilia off of him, and dig his uniform pants from the pile of clothes on the ground. Pulling his belt free from the loops, both of them wincing slightly at the sound of the buckle clinking. 

He clenches the leather between his hands, considering it for a long moment. Brain connecting the dots slowly before he folds it over to a more manageable length. Wrapping his fingers around the buckle as if to hide it, clearly unfit to strike skin. Lilia gives him a nod when he glances to him, approving of the decision. 

“Over my knee still?” He asks hesitantly, and tries not to wince when Lilia shakes his head. Of course not.

Lilia handles it again though. As much as he fills the role of Malleus’ little brother nowadays, it doesn’t erase the years of mentor and teacher so long ago. The instinct to lead his prince through things, and make sure he understands them. 

He kicks his bottoms the rest of the way off, sending them off somewhere to be found again later. Grabs a pillow and places it on the edge of the bed, before shuffling himself awkwardly over it. When he’s finally settled, Malleus can more than understand the purpose of the position. His ass is lifted up a bit by the pillow, presented neatly for discipline, and his legs dangle loosely over the edge without ever reaching the floor. 

Lilia looks smaller like that, smaller than Malleus has ever seen him, the red tips of his ears peeking out from where he’s already buried his face in his arms. “M’kay,” he muffles past them, voice just as small, “Y’can do it now.”

Mallus swallows, and nods firmly, even though Lilia can’t see it. Trying to brace himself for the moment. Lilia has already done so much of this, guided him along to this moment, and that’s not what he needs. That’s not how this arrangement works. 

He needs Malleus to be in charge, to dole out his consequences properly, and let him give in to the care of it. To let go of the guilt that must be clawing in his chest, and be forgiven.

If nothing else, Malleus can give him that. 

He steps up to him with only slight hesitation, determination taking its place in his chest, his brain shifting into the headspace reserved for these moments. Strong and sure, more than he can usually bring himself to be, firm and deliberate. His hand rests comfortably on the smaller fae’s back, and he taps the belt against him gently. Moving it slowly through the air to get the feel for it. As best as he can before actually striking him with it at least.

When he feels just confident enough to go through it, he does. Denying himself the chance to change his mind, snapping the leather down crisply. 

It lands sharper than he expects, pulling a yelp from Lilia’s lips. The skin where it strikes flushes pink nearly immediately, faster than his hand has ever achieved. It’s a bit startling to see, and it takes his breath away for a moment, brain processing the new information. It’s not dark and red like the cane stripes he saw all those years ago, though. It reassures him to see, and once he gets his wits about him there’s less hesitance remaining than he had expected. Like now that the first strike has been laid, the wall between them has dropped. 

He takes another breath, slow and deliberate, before raising the belt again. Letting it sit in the air for only a second this time before it comes down. Another snapping noise, and Lilia gasps into the blankets, but doesn’t cry out this time. His shoulders are tight, but his fingers are still relaxed where Malleus can see them, certainly feeling it but not in much pain yet. 

Malleus lands two more lashes, to equal gasps, before Lilia looks back at him again, eyebrows drawn together in frustration. “You can hit harder than that, niisan.” The word sharp and acidic, challenging in a way Lilia gets during spankings sometimes.

Perhaps if the belt weren’t already so far out of his comfort zone, or if he were more truly upset in Lilia, he would’ve risen to the bait. Today isn’t that day though. His emotions are firmly between concerned and afraid of abandonment; and he can tell the bait for what it is. Lilia trying to get him to give more than he deserves, trying to feel in control of the situation even at his own expense. Taking being told he’ll only get one as a problem because his emotions sit too thick right now.

He does bring the belt down harder, once, across the bat’s thighs. It’s louder, and the skin rapidly prickles red, certainly hot. The shriek Lilia lets out is a bit satisfying, quickly burying his face back into his arms with a drawn out whine.

“You aren’t in charge here, little boy. I’ll decide how hard you get it.”

Lilia whines again, before biting out a pathetic “yessir”, voice wet. Attempt fizzling out quickly under the stern tone, as good a reminder as any just how little of a boy Malleus is really dealing with. 

He rubs his hand over his back gently for a moment before bringing the belt down on the round of his ass again, snapping it with the same force he had started with. Lilia yelps, but doesn’t shriek this time, or try to argue with him again. 

The next few go down without incident, Lilia’s feet kicking out when he snaps closer to the bottom of his bum, smacking back against the side of the mattress harmlessly. 

“What are you getting spanked for, baby?” He asks, trying to hide the edge of hesitance still colouring his voice behind an extra dose of sternness. 

Lilia lets out another pathetic whine at the question, shaking his head almost desperately. Despite having clearly stated it already, something about being asked during a spanking always gets to him. 

Malleus has to give him three more before he whines out again, kicking his feet like a toddler having a tantrum. “Ouchieeeee! ‘Cuz’a tryna run ‘way again! OW!”

Malleus is admittedly a little surprised to hear his voice come out so tiny so quickly, fully in the soft childish headspace he sometimes manages to get to. That foreign feeling lingers in it too, still, so long since he’s last had a chance to see it; perhaps before Lilia found Silver back then. Maybe it’s the belt, bringing it to the surface easier than Malleus’ palm ever could, or maybe it’s just because of how long Lilia has been holding it in.

He softens his voice carefully, but still lands the next few swats on his sensitive thighs. “That’s right. You tried to run away, and made a big show about it.”

A huff leaves him as a few things click into place in his brain with his own words. Staying his hand now instead of continuing as he considers Lilia’s form. Arms wrapped tight around his head and legs kicking in protest even during the pause. “You were trying to get me to stop you. Weren’t you?”

Lilia freezes at that with a shocked little sound, before he peeks over his arm at him, eyes wide and tears already pricking. His mouth opens a few times like he’s looking for something to say, but nothing comes out for a long moment. Malleus doesn’t rescue him from it, waiting patiently for the boy to string something coherent together.

“You… always stopped me.” Finally comes out, weak and hesitant and wet around the edges. 

Something in Malleus’ heart clenches at the words, the weight of everything suddenly monumental on his shoulders as he sits on the edge of the bed next to Lilia, rubbing a hand along his back. He really screwed this up, didn’t he?

“You wanted me to stop you, to give you what you needed, and I didn’t see it.” Lilia sniffles next to him, still looking at him with those big, sad eyes. “I… I thought you were going to abandon me here, that you were really getting too old. I thought, maybe I’ve held on to you too long, we raised a child, maybe it was the end of our road together.”

His breath hitches over a breath before he continues, and one of Lilia’s hands reaches out for his, tangling their fingers together. “And then I got lost in it, when you didn’t even really want to go. I made a mess of everything instead of seeing something I spent years learning to see, and I hurt both of us.” He takes another breath, an anxious almost-chuckle in his throat. “Now I’ve spent weeks still not seeing it, and leaving you to stew, and not even giving you what you originally needed. I-”

“You didn’t,” Lilia cuts in, voice small and nervous. “You didn’t know. I shouldn’t have expected you to know.” He pushes himself up shakily, and crawls on the bed next to his prince. Reaching up to cup his face gently, something truly sad in his eyes. He’s clearly still halfway in that little space in his brain, but his words come out steady and soft like when he’s not, a weird half point like everything else between them. “I… I tried to manipulate you into giving me what I needed instead of just asking, and I doubled down when it didn’t work at first. I hurt you, and pushed you so bad that you fell apart like that, that you doubted… us. If anyone is to blame here, it’s me. That's why you need to punish me Malleus, not ‘cuz I tried to run away. ‘Cuz I hurt you for selfish reasons.”

Malleus closes his eyes, pushing himself to breathe as both of their words settle in him. The thrashing guilt in his own chest, only amplified now, contending with the angry part of him that screams that Lilia is right. That this is his fault, not Malleus’, that he deserves what's coming to him. It’s too much, swirling and overwhelming in his mind like thunder crashing, and he can feel the temperature of the room around them starting to drop. He’s in no headspace for this and he knows it.

“I can’t.” He says finally, throat tight around the words. “I can’t right now. I, I need to think.”

Lilia’s breath hitches, his fingers twitching against Malleus’ cheeks before he pulls them away. Just staring for a moment, before he swallows thickly and nods. “I understand.”

He’s gone faster than Malleus can stop him, a snap of his fingers and a few glimmers of magic left floating in the air for a brief time. The room quickly drops to freezing as Malleus forces himself to take deep breaths. He’s already overblotted once, he can keep himself calm.

For possibly the first time Malleus can remember at least, he wants to run away without a word. To disappear into the unknown and never face this situation again. Anything to not get lost in the words rattling around his head. 

When Lilia goes hesitantly to find Malleus for classes the next day, he finds his room empty. His suitcase is gone from his closet and the bed is still made neatly from when Silver had made it the day before. He feels frantic for several minutes, searching the room for clues before he finds it. A scrawled note on his nightstand, saying he’s taken a brief leave to visit home, and Lilia and the boys should stay there.

Lilia doesn’t go to classes that day, or the day after, curled up in bed and staring at Malleus’ contact in his phone. He’s never been more crushed by the knowledge that they don’t work in Briar Valley. 

“Malleus Draconia, what are you still doing in my halls?” His grandmother demands over dinner, tone sharp like a knife, his third day home. “When you asked me to go to that school I thought you intended to actually study. You aren’t giving up, are you?”

“No ma’am. I just…” He hesitates, setting his fork down lightly and folding his hands into his lap under her chiding. 

She considers him for a moment before scoffing, and taking another sip of her wine. “It’s Lilia, isn’t it?”

“Why would it be Lilia?” He says, too uncertain.

“Don’t bullshit me boy, I know full well what you two have. I’ve been around more than long enough to see something happening right in front of me. Tell me what’s going on or leave my dining room.”

That’s all it takes for him to break, stumbling over his words as he lays the situation out to her. Jumping between facts where his brain hasn’t connected them properly yet. He can’t even stop to be embarrassed when he explains the half-finished spanking, or the way Lilia had seemed so tiny and fragile despite the strength he knew the boy carried. 

She listens to him all the way through, every stumble and backtrack he makes to get there, eyes slowly narrowing as she takes the story in. Occasionally sipping from her glass until it runs dry, and then tapping her nails against the table while he finishes. 

“...And I, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know whose fault it is, or how to fix it or, or…”

He flounders for a moment, and she takes pity on him, clearing her throat and finally tapping her glass for one of the maids to refill. “It’s both of your faults.”

His eyes widen at her firm words, like he genuinely hasn’t considered this option, and she narrowly avoids rolling her eyes at him. Really, this boy could be so foolish sometimes. 

“He did something naughty, and you overreacted. You both made mistakes, and you both hurt each other. And others, from what I hear. Not that I care too much about that.” She sips her wine again with a dry chuckle, shaking her head. “But that’s not the person I see in you, you won’t wage war like I have, or throw the sort of tantrums your mother had. You’re smart, and diplomatic, and you care deeply about others.”

She lets the words settle for a few minutes, the gears in his brain clearly turning, and his lip caught lightly between his teeth.

“So,” She leans forward, pointing at him with a carefully manicured nail. “If this was your boys, and both of them were at fault, what would you do?”

He bites his lip a bit harder, before releasing it with a sigh. The tips of his ears flushing a bit pink and he whispers out the words. “I’d… spank them both.”

“Right.” She agrees with a single nod. “So I’m going to spank you, and then you’re going to drag yourself back to school and spank your charge before he implodes too. Do not open your mouth to argue young man, this is not a debate.”

His mouth snaps shut with a click, darting his eyes down to his hands as he flushes further. He opens his mouth again, hesitates and then shakes his head hard to clear it. “Yes, grandmother.”

“Finish your dinner, I’m not going to be responsible for you going to bed hungry.”

She takes him to her office after the meal has been cleared away, bending him over the desk the same as he had seen Lilia all those years ago. Of course, he’s a fair bit taller, his knees bent a bit under him and his hands wrapped over the desk’s other end. 

The cane is the same one he had seen that day too, thin and black and imposing, with purple satin ribbon wrapped around the handle. Cruel as it digs into his skin, bringing him easily to tears he hadn’t thought he’d even reach. The lecture doesn’t help, slow and disappointed like the cane strokes, digging into every crevice of the situation. She berates him for allowing himself to reach the point of overblot, criticises how long he let Lilia go without management after she had entrusted him to, calls out the self-depreciation still dripping from his every word. 

By the time she finishes he’s bawling over the desk like a hatchling, ass burning nearly as much as his face does. Then she collects him up, settling them both on the couch under the window like when he went to visit her as a small thing. Laying his head in her lap and petting her nails through his hair while he cries himself out, giving a few sparse bits of praise for his bravery in telling her and the bravery she knows he’ll show in fixing it. 

It’s perhaps the warmest she’s ever been towards him, he thinks; and he can’t bring himself to be surprised that this is the circumstance he’d finally see it in. 

She sends him off the next morning with a firm warning that Lilia had better be with him the next time he comes home, and a long, thin box wrapped in emerald green paper. 

His phone dings away in his pocket with missed messages coming through as he closes the door of his dorm room. Everything still looks almost exactly as it had 4 days ago now, but he can tell things have moved anyways. A drawer left just slightly ajar, the papers on his desk moved by fractions, and the note on his nightstand gone. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding as the lock clicks into place, making his way over to the bed and settling on it heavily. 

Of course Lilia had found the note, knew where he was, but he hadn’t been able to shake the fear that he hadn’t. He sets the box from his grandmother next to him and kicks his shoes off. Allowing himself to lay back for a moment of peace. His ass is still protesting lightly where he has weight on it, but it isn’t as bad as he feared. Easily ignorable outside of the occasional twinge. 

His mind drifts to Lilia, but doesn’t get to linger there long as someone starts knocking loudly against his door. He can’t help a groan at it, rubbing his face for a moment before he sits up. Of course he couldn’t have time to collect his thoughts, that would be too easy.

“Do you suppose he went somewhere else?” He hears Silver ask on the other side, and sighs. Snaps his fingers to undo the spell on the door with only a short moment of hesitance now. “It’s open!”

He hears both boys, easily identifiable as a pair now, jump on the other side. Sebek clears his throat awkwardly, and then the door slowly pushes open. Sebek looks rough as soon as he can see him, hair askew and jacket missing in a way he would normally never be seen. Silver is no better off, bags under his eyes and the sleeve of the sweater he wears picked to fraying. Exhaustion seeping off of them both.

Sebek doesn’t let it affect him, stepping in with purposeful steps. “MY LIEGE!” 

Malleus winces a little at the volume, and Sebek looks apologetic for a moment while Silver closes the door again behind them. “Apologies Prince Malleus, Silver saw your status come back online so we presumed that meant you were back.”

“Clearly,” he offers, tone light. “Hello you two.”

“Hello Mala.” Silver offers from behind Sebek, giving a little wave. Sometimes Malleus wonders if he might come to some revelations of his own in a few years more. 

Sebek squares his shoulders, his brow tenser than usual. “Prince Malleus, I’m sorry to make a request of you so soon after your return from home.” He presses his lips together for a moment. “You need to do something about Lilia, sir.”

He isn’t expecting to confront this so quickly, Sebek is right about that. He knew it needed to happen, that they couldn’t keep playing this game, but until now he hadn’t really considered what Lilia might have been up to while he was gone. No wonder his grandmother had sent him back so suddenly, he had been far too short sighted about the situation.

“What have I missed?”

The boys both help explain, taking turns better than normal to get the information across. Lilia hasn’t left his room since the morning Malleus disappeared apparently, they haven’t even seen him in the dorm restroom he’s been avoiding them so carefully when he goes. He hasn’t accepted any meals, or let anyone in, or even opened his curtains enough that they could attempt to check on him from outside. He’s sent Sebek a single text in that whole time, a succinct ‘I’m fine, stop knocking’ that has both boys even more nervous than they’d apparently been before.

He can’t blame them, it hasn’t even been a full month yet since the day he’d overblotted. He can only imagine how scared they must feel now, Lilia taking everything so much worse than he’d even bothered to consider. If he had he might have realised sooner that it would, he knows Lilia well enough for that. He’s good at running away, and when he can’t run physically he finds ways to do it mentally to. To shut down on everything around him completely, until he’s little more than a husk floating around.

Malleus had been stupid enough to forget those days, to allow himself a comfort he hadn’t bothered to keep up with, thinking he had his friend well enough in hand that it would never occur again. 

“Okay, I’ll talk to him. Thank you for telling me.” He says when they’ve finished, standing to pat them both on the head and guide them back towards the door. “You two need to go get sleep, now.”

They go easily enough, but Silver pauses at the door to look back, one foot still in so Malleus can’t close it yet. “Mala, you’re okay, right?”

Malleus allows him the pause, taking a moment to consider his words. “I will be.” He settles on finally, giving them a thin smile. “After I talk to Lilia.”

Silver nods, stepping back, and Sebek chuckles a little beside him. “Should we bring ice packs later, sir?”

Of course he knows, Malleus thinks with a chuckle of his own. He must’ve been a child still the last time Malleus had taken Lilia in hand anywhere near him, but he still knew. 

“That might be helpful, Sebek.” 

He opens the box after they’ve gone. Carefully peeling back the paper to a dark wood box inside, a small golden latch one one side. He’s relatively certain what it is already, but his breath still catches when the latch clicks open and it comes into view. Nestled into a pillowy silk lining, as dark and imposing as his Grandmother’s own. 

It’s not the same cane at least, a touch shorter to accommodate his height, and the handle is wrapped in green satin instead of purple. It’s a little thicker too, he thinks, though he isn’t entirely sure if that’s better for the distributed impact, or worse for the added weight. On top of it is a black card, with glimmering golden ink in her perfect cursive.

‘In case a belt isn’t enough. X’ It reads, and he can’t help a light laugh at it. Running his finger tips along the smooth rod, considering it slowly.

It feels like too much of a jump, to go from having only ever used his hand on Lilia a week ago, to taking a cane to him. It isn’t unreasonable though, as unnecessarily complicated as the situation had gotten, the weight of Lilia’s choices as well as his own on it. Not to mention, his grandmother had taken the same implement to him for it, it was only fair wasn’t it? Well, maybe not, but he couldn’t deny the part of his brain that encouraged it for that reason alone.

His phone buzzes again, and he pulls it out with a sigh, swiping through the notifications. A few from Silver and Sebek each, in the form of short updates for him to read later. A few from other dorm members and Yuu asking if he’s okay carefully. At least twenty from Lilia, various apologies and explanations, desperate in their wording. The most recent one, just received, only reads ‘I’m sorry’.

He sighs, snapping the case shut and standing up. Weighing it in his hands and huffing out another breath. He doesn’t put it down before he leaves. 

He knocks on Lilia’s door sharply, three times, and waits. Hears a thump and shuffling inside, and a little yelp as Lilia trips over something, before feet are padding to the other side of the door hesitantly. A moment of silence stretches before Lilia’s voice comes out, shaky and tired.

“Sebek honey, I need you to go away, please.”

“Not Sebek.” He declares in response, lifting an eyebrow. “I thought you could tell our steps apart. Open the door Lilia.”

Lilia doesn’t respond, silence stretching out for a few tense minutes before Malleus realises he isn’t going to. He sighs with it, shaking his head. Of course not, that would be too easy.

“Lilia, we need to talk, come on.”

“I’m sorry.” The other finally sniffles, voice lower down where he’s sat on the ground, sounding tiny and pathetic already. Malleus is struck again by the realisation of how much this all is effecting him. 

“I know, Lilia.” He takes a breath, pressing his palm lightly to the surface of the door, feeling the magic keeping it locked. Something strong, carefully built, but not impossible to start picking apart. “We’re going to talk about it, and cuddle, and figure out how to start fresh. Can we try to do that?”

Lilia hitches on a little sob as the magic curls around his fingertips. Easing apart like the untangling of a knotted chain, slipping off the door in layers. The last layer gives way just as Lilia speaks.

“Can try…”

Malleus pushes the door open slowly, stepping through as soon as there’s enough room and clicking it back shut. It’s dark, with a musty smell from Lilia having the windows closed so long. The boy is still curled up on the floor by the door, arms wrapped around himself in a sweater he must’ve stolen, huge on his tiny frame. He’s letting out little sobs, tears running down his cheeks as he hesitantly meets Malleus’ eyes.

He darts them down much faster after he has, too guilty to stay looking at him any longer. Unfortunately, this ends with his eyes landing on the box Malleus still carries. He lets out a louder sob, eyes widening in something like horror. “Mall-”

“I know, baby.” Malleus soothes, lowering himself to his knees on the floor and setting the box aside. Gathering the boy in his arms carefully, until he's tucked under his chin snugly, shoulders shaking.

“Don’t- don’t wanna canin’!” He whines out after a few more sobs shake his frame, tangling his fingers in Malleus shirt tightly. “Hurts!”

“I know, baby.” He repeats again, running a hand through Lilia’s hair carefully, avoiding the tangles that tell him how little Lilia has been taking care of himself. “I don’t want to give you one, but I think that’s where we’re at. If it makes you feel better I got a taste of it myself.” 

“You did?” Lilia asks shakily, looking up at him again with those sad eyes. 

“Mhmm, I needed it.” He says, adjusting their position a bit so he can sit down properly, arranging Lilia in his lap. “I’m sorry I ran away like that, Lilia. I did the same thing I was upset at you for, and that wasn’t fair of me, but I needed space to handle myself first. We both made a mess of this, we’re both guilty here, and I didn’t realise I needed to address my own before I could address yours.”

Lilia sniffles hard, burying his face back down against him. Malleus waits, giving his words time to settle as he pets Lilia’s hair again. 

“Can, stop guilt now?” He whispers after a hesitance, keeping his face down.

“We can, we’ll deal with it, and start again tomorrow. I won’t let it get like this again, I promise.” 

“Okay, niisan.” Lilia hiccups, leaning back to scrub a sleeve across his face messily. “Can take it.”

“Good boy, let’s get you in a shower and cleaned up first though. And open these windows before you suffocate, huh?”

Things feel familiar again this time, as Lilia lays himself over his lap, hair still damp and only dressed in one of Malleus’ t-shirts. Tucking the fabric up off of his bum and holding it in place with a hand on the small of his back like always.

They had agreed on a warm up first, during Lilia’s shower, before he had to face the horrible cane. A small mercy even as Malleus fully agreed it was deserved now, giving the boy’s skin a chance to warm up gradually. Lilia was soft and compliant now, not fully in that floaty little space, but not entirely grounded either. 

Shifting until he felt comfortable, a pillow pulled close to him to bury his face comfortably. Softly announcing when he’s ready, wiggling his hips a touch.

Malleus is quiet as he starts, building a slow rhythm as he works his way from the top down, smacking halfway down the boy’s thighs before he starts again at the top. Lilia hisses and wiggles through them, too slow and not quite harsh enough yet to get yelps out of him as Malleus slowly stokes the skin to a light simmer. 

The guilt is harsh in his chest still, after so long left to stew in it, though he doesn’t hold it against his prince. He understands why Malleus needed to go, truly he does, but that doesn’t change the way it effects him, hot and messy in his gut. The smacks are starting to settle something in him though, as light as they are still, soothing in their almost distant familiarity; nostalgia? 

It really has been too long since he’s been here, like an annoying little itch building under his skin, getting worse and worse over time. It had been at a breaking point for too long now, burning like a rash he just couldn’t get rid of, until he had made those foolish pushes. Until everything had fallen apart. 

Now they’re putting them back together, finally, properly. Each impact of Malleus’ hand like an ointment on the itch, until he’s tender enough to start yelping and shifting with them. Until he can barely feel it at all anymore, tingling under his skin. Malleus keeps at it for several long minutes, firm but not hard, until his skin is flushed a solid pink and warm to the touch. 

“Alright, little boy.” Malleus voice finally cuts through the room with a final smack. “I think you’re about ready, yeah?”

Lilia nods hesitantly, head feeling more cotton-stuffed again as he processes the words slowly. “‘M ready, sir.”

The word is an indication of itself where Lilia is, small enough to notice but not in the tiny place Malleus knows he will be by the time they finish. Technically correct by their positions, Lilia had argued the first time he commented on, and something that helped him not bob back up into his uncomfortable semi-adulthood on his way down. Malleus doesn’t comment on it anymore.

He helps Lilia to his feet carefully, supporting him until he seems steady. Taking a moment to press their foreheads together before he stands up himself. Gently taking the pillow from Lilia’s grip to lay at the foot of his bed. Lilia whines a little at it, but doesn’t object, bending over obediently when Malleus guides him to. He grabs for another pillow immediately, bringing it close to himself, and folds the hand further from Malleus over his back in silent demand. 

Malleus clicks open the case, lifting the cane out with a slow breath. He had never seen himself wielding such a thing, especially on the littlest of his boys, and it feels monumentally heavy in his hands. He doesn’t realise how long he stands like that until Lilia huffs from the bed, looking at him almost petulantly.

“S’ok Mall, gotten it before.” He offers, still trying to support Malleus even like this. “Hurts but. I can take it, promise.”

Malleus swallows, and nods. Taking another deep breath to steady himself. He can’t back out now, he already has once. He promised the cane, and he’ll deliver it, even if he never touches the damned thing again. Regardless of what he feels. 

He closes the case with another little click, and takes a step back to give it a couple swishes through the air. Lilia watches him, more curious than nervous yet, watching Malleus get a feel for it. He could firmly say he’d never imagined the implement in Malleus’ hands either, but he looks almost elegant with it now. Holding it with the same easy grip he uses on a sword, an imposing extension of his arm, it almost looks like it belongs in his hand. The same way his grandmother had always carried it, even if he doubted the teen would ever realise such a thing. 

He nods to himself after a few more tests, seemingly finding it acceptable. Taking a careful step up to Lilia and finally placing his hand in the other’s. Holding it firmly to his back, and rubbing the side of it with his thumb. Lilia pulls a deep breath of his own in, trying to prepare himself for it. It comes out in a shudder when the cane touches him, just lightly tapping his backside. 

“Ready?” Malleus asks carefully, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Ready.”

He hears the sound of the strike before the feeling registers, nerves lighting up with a sharp flare of pain in a cruel line that wraps around his hip a little at the end. It settles into a heavy burn after half a moment, and his breath wrenches out of him in a little shriek, legs kicking out desperately. It’s been so long since he’s felt it, too many decades to bother counting anymore, but it doesn’t hurt any less than he remembers. 

He shoves his face into the pillow on the second, whining hard into it, the sound scraping his throat. He’s quickly sliding down, thoughts ripped from his brain and left empty in their place. A hiccup in his throat as he suddenly feels so much tinier than his body is. Malleus is saying something to him, and he can recognise the stern tone of a lecture, but none of the words register in any way he understands. 

The cane lands again, just below the first two and he wails, drumming his toes against the floor as the feeling arches through him like lightning. He might have been embarrassed by it if he were bigger, a big bad war general being pushed to that point by only 3 lines, but to his little brain it feels like he’s already been well thrashed. To know that more is almost certainly going to follow only makes him whine harder.

Four and five have him cracking into sobs already, clawing at the pillow with his free hand. Malleus doesn’t stop, bringing the sixth down across his sit spots sharply, voice still firm and solid over him. Lilia always cries fast like this, even under a firm enough palm, too little to take it without. Malleus knows him well enough to know that it’s far from a sign that he’s had enough. 

The next three fall on his thighs, sharp and hot, and then there’s a pause. Malleus’ hand rubbing over the marks gently while Lilia catches his breath. His cries don’t stop, but before long he’s breathing around them, focus slowly coming in.

“Back with me?”

“So-orta,” He manages, hiccuping in the middle. Hugging the pillow to his chest as another little sob shakes him. 

“That’s okay, we don’t have to talk if you can’t”

Lilia lets out a sob of relief this time, nodding hard. Listening feels like too much, talking worse. All he wants is to get his spanking over and be done with it, to get cuddles in Malleus’ arms like he always is after, yucky feelings all cried out. He knows he deserves the lecture, to have to hear Malleus out, but given the opportunity to skip it he can’t bring himself to try.

“Alright, let’s just get this done with then.” Malleus offers softly, tapping the cane against him in warning. 

He keeps his promise not to say anything more, delivering each stroke with a measured pace, working his way up and down the boy’s skin the same as he had with his hand before. Lilia has no idea how many more he takes, crying through it and kicking his legs like the little boy he is. Malleus counts every line though, doing his best to carefully avoid overlapping them, landing the final heavy swat to the boys undercurve right at fifty. 

Lilia is in shambles by now, ass painted in heavy brushes of red, with the edges of a few bruises peeking out on his pale complexion. He's biting the pillow, wailing for everything he’s worth, so loud Malleus might worry about someone breaking his door down if he hadn’t cast a silencing spell to the room. Face bright red and tear streaked, and a bit of snot dripping from his chin. It’s the furthest Malleus has ever pushed him, had been from the first strike of the cane, and he rushes to set the offending implement aside and gather him up.

Sitting them on the bed and grabbing a blanket to wrap around him, voice hushed and soothing where it floats through Lilia’s head. He can’t focus on anything much, too overwhelmed by the ache in his ass and the sobs rattling through him like a freight train. Clinging to Malleus while he shakes with them, desperately seeking affection his prince is all too willing to give. 

It takes him a long time to calm down, every little shift of Malleus’ thighs enough to reignite the fire and start him sobbing again. By the time he’s reduced to hiccups and little sniffles, he’s long past exhausted, practically asleep already where his cheek rests on Malleus’ shoulder, wet and sticky with tears. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow, I’m not going anywhere.” Malleus promises, scooting them up the bed to pull the duvet over them, and extinguishing the lights with a quick wave of his pen. “Go to sleep, I’ve got you.”

Lilia nods, too sleepy to argue, getting comfortable in the crook of his princes arm. They’ll still have to talk, and that sucks, but the heavy weight in his gut feels lighter now, and he feels safer than he has in years. It’s enough comfort to bring his eyelids down the rest of the way, drifting off to the sound of Malleus’ heartbeat thumping in his chest.