#illusions and creatures. i bet briar valley's full of them

[serenescribe]

Hello hello~ I think amidst all this chapter 7 stuff we could do very well with the “Hug” prompt. I’m sure Silver would love a hug from his dad! … or is that really Lilia?

Hm? Hmmm~?

Lol, I’m just kidding, have fun with the Hug prompt!

shrieks and wails this is really short but i hope you like it anyways :')

“Silver!”

His ears prick at the sound of that voice, ever so faint and muffled by the walls of the house. Distracted from the sweeping he’s been doing, Silver turns around in the direction he thinks he heard the sound come from, perking up considerably. Is that…?

In his haste, he accidentally knocks the broom onto the floor while hurrying over to the nearest window, poking his head out. Sure enough, he hears it again — a call of his name, in a voice so familiar that it makes his heart sing.

And in the distance, Silver sees him: a tiny figure approaching from the woods, waving at him from afar. His father is home!

This is not the first time his father has left him alone to go travelling by himself, always departing with a kiss against his forehead and a warm embrace. When he was younger and less capable of handling himself, Sebek’s family had insisted on him staying with them — but now, at nine years old, Silver can proudly say that he’s old enough to be left on his own.

Even though Father leaves time and time again, it always hurts to see him depart. But in return, it always makes Silver feel all warm and giddy to see him come back home.

It’s in Silver’s joy of seeing his father return that he flings open the front door, bare feet pressing against coarse dirt and grass as he sprints towards the woods. How long had Father been gone this time? Too long, his mind answers; it isn’t as though Silver got impatient, willing to wait with a composed diligence for his papa to return home, but all the same… he’d missed him.

As he gets close enough to see his father’s features — those red eyes, gleaming with mirth, his lips widening into a smile, dark hair streaked with pink swaying from side to side — the fae opens his arms wide: an invitation for an embrace, a hug.

And with all the enthusiasm of a boy who’s missed his father dearly, Silver flings himself into his papa’s arms, arms latching tight around his body as he feels himself get picked up and swung around. Laughter escapes his lips — how long has it been since they’d done this? — and he feels giddy with such merry relief.

“How excited you are to see me, little one!” Father coos, finally letting him back down on the ground. Silver beams up at him, happiness unrestrained — he truly is, always so thrilled to see him return home. His father wraps his arms around Silver once more, limbs loose, the touch a comfort against his back. “How have you been, dear?”

“I’ve been good!” Silver tells him, a little quickly. “I’ve been doing my training exercises, and I’ve been taking care of the house, just like you told me to!”

“Good,” Father praises, leaving Silver with a warmth blooming within his chest, unfurling like a flower. “Now then, shall we head home together?”

And Silver nods, lips parting so he can reply. The word is on the tip of his tongue, excited and ready, when all of a sudden—

“Silver!”

He hears—

Father’s voice. But… but it’s strange. He’s not hearing it from above, from the man holding him close, head just above Silver’s. No, this voice is coming from behind.

Stiffening, Silver squirms in his… his father’s hold. He wants to turn, wants to look for the source of the sound, but the arms wrapped around him tighten just enough that it begins to hurt. Silver bites back a hiss of pain. With a little desperation, he manages to wiggle around enough that he can twist his neck and glance over his shoulder to spot—

His father, standing there. One arm outstretched, a look of what Silver can only describe as anger on his face. It makes him shudder. Silver’s eyes flick downwards, glancing over his father’s attire — his travelling cloak wrapped around his shoulders, a bag strapped against his back, and it is only upon the sight of these things that Silver realises… his father, holding him right now, wears none of that.

“You,” Father hisses, voice deadly low, making Silver tense. “What do you think you’re doing with my son?”

The arms curling around him only tighten, so much so that Silver begins struggling to breathe.

And when he dares to peek up—

Silver’s heart plummets.

The only thing he can see is a wickedly sly smile.