#but my girl Azmodan has my back

[kidsomeday]

Just know what when you’re getting booped by me this is what it looks like.

[cathcacen]

Tychol has inherited Anarei’s Sight and she can’t brain the idea of her sweet darling baby boy suffering a fate she personally rejected. Even moreso when it becomes clearer to her that he’s taken her Sight - her curse.

He shakes his head, and she understands what he means. He says it anyway. “Don’t belittle yourself, my love. You’re no weakling.” The hand upon her cheek moves upwards to brush the mist from her eyes. “And neither is our son. We’ll help him understand it, so don’t worry. We’ll be there for him.”

By the time they’ve coaxed Tychol back to sleep, it’s close to midnight. She’s hesitant to leave him, but Lear assures her that it’s all right, and that the little boy is just a few short steps and a couple of doors away. She brushes her son’s curly hair; even in his sleep, he leans into the warmth of her hand, and she thinks she could die for having cursed him with the Sight she’s so selfishly rejected.

Lear takes her hand and guides her back to their shared room. Theone has long since gone to bed, and he shuts her door gently as they walk past her moonlit room, the little girl snoring in her bed, perfectly coccooned in blankets and furs. She waits until he’s closed the door to their own room before collapsing into his arms, burying her face into his neck, and he holds her tightly.

“He took it from me,” She whispers, mortified. It’s been hours since Tychol had woken, screaming and sobbing, and still, it feels surreal. He took the Sight from me, and now I’ve cursed my precious baby boy.

Lear guides her to their window seat, settling down and pulling her into his arms. The cool night air is crisp, and drawing breath helps to calm her somewhat. “Tell me what happened,” He says.

She curls up against him, pressing her cheek to his chest to take a deep breath. Tychol had done much the same when he’d come home from work that day, the child sobbing tears of relief into his father’s arms. “He saw Azmodan.”

Lear freezes a little. She grips his hands and draws them around her, clutching them both to her abdomen. “Are you sure?”

“I am. That day, when Azmodan projected himself into our room to threaten you. Threaten us.” She squeezes her eyes shut. Even years after the fact, the memory remains seared into her mind. The Lord of Sin had been a formidable foe in the past war, with his tricks and his hellfire and his magic. No wonder Tychol was so terrified. “He saw it. Woke up screaming, thinking Azmodan was going to kill and eat us all.”

“It’s not your fault.” Lear gives her a slight shake, the arms around her tightening as he does. “You hear? It’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t know why she’s surprised. He’s known her mind all these years, after all. “I could’ve tried harder. I could’ve accepted my own fate, my own Sight. But I was so busy rejecting my own heritage to even consider that something like this could happen. And now I’ve no idea how to guide him through it, because I refused to understand it all these years.” She scrunches up the fabric of her dress and grits her teeth. “It is my fault.”

Her husband lets out a sigh, and she feels his lips against her forehead as he kisses her tenderly. “Tychol was in your belly the day that happened. Was that why he saw it?” He’s quiet for a while, evidently thinking. “You were seeing things too, weren’t you? More than usual, when you were carrying him.”

“Glimpses of this and that.” She murmurs, nuzzling into him. She’d spent the entire late afternoon with Tychol after, comforting him, keeping close to him, holding him in her arms and telling him stories of happier times while they’d waited for his father to get home. It feels good to be comforted in return. “I wish I could’ve seen this coming. Mam thinks the anomaly runs in our family.”

His lips linger at her forehead, and she can feel his warm breath against her as he speaks. “Is it so uncommon for men to receive the gift of Sight in the Medjai?”

“The last time it happened was well over a century ago.” She shivers a little. “We have no way of knowing if Tychol was pre-destined for this fate, or if he simply took my Sight. Or maybe it’s both those things.” Deep down inside, she knows, though.

After all, the visions had stopped the day he’d emerged. He took it from me.

Lear’s quiet for a while, and she allows herself to sink into her thoughts as she strokes the back of his hand absently. “Does Theone have it, do you think?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know.” She doesn’t even want to consider the possibility. One frightened child was enough to tear her heart to pieces, and she doesn’t know how she could possibly handle cursing another. “Mam doesn’t think so. It’s all a mess.”

“You medjai women have carried the burden of Sight for ages, though.” Lear reminds her. His voice is soft, and she’s lulled into that sense of security. He disentangles his hands gently, using one to cup her cheek, lifting her face so that he can look her in the eyes with his single one.

It’s filled with love and affection, and she can’t help but to smile tiredly at him. “Some stronger than others, I think.” She tells him, ashamed.

He shakes his head, and she understands what he means. He says it anyway. “Don’t belittle yourself, my love. You’re no weakling.” The hand upon her cheek moves upwards to brush the mist from her eyes. “And neither is our son. We’ll help him understand it. We’ll be there for him.”

And mam will be there, too. To guide him and protect him, the way she tried so hard to guide and protect me when I was a girl.

She swallows, then takes a long breath. “I love you.” She tells him.

His smile deepens, and he presses a long, tender kiss to her lips. “And I love you, Anarei.” He tightens his hold of her, letting out a long, contented breath. “Don’t worry, my love. We’ll do this together.”