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eilonwiiy · 1 month ago

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Bookends ; A Witchlands AU

Chapter 13

After spotting Iseult with Leopold at the library, Aeduan has decided to walk away from their tentative friendship. But a weekend with his sisters (and the impending doom of Valentine's Day) puts his resolve to the test...

Summary: Iseult det Midenzi never expected to go to a top university, so when her mother falls ill and she is forced to drop out to make ends meet, life has never seemed so unfair. But when she starts working at the local library and is unexpectedly assigned in the Children’s Room, a certain monosyllabic man and his thrice-damned demon child start showing up and Iseult begins to wonder if the threads of fate have a plan for her after all.

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Ships: Iseult/Aeduan, Safi/Merik, and more… stay tuned!

Tags: modern AU, college setting, family, friendship, humor, fluff, slow-burn, romance, eventual smut

Read on AO3: here

* . * . * . * .

From inside the car, Aeduan felt as much as heard the muffled thud of the trunk being closed. A moment later, the passenger door swung open and Libset and Cora piled into the backseat, wearing matching school uniforms that were barely visible under heavy winter coats.

“Do you have everything?” Aeduan asked, closing the book he’d been reading and setting it on the seat beside him.

“Oh it’s nice and warm in here,” Lisbet said a little out of breath. She tugged at her seatbelt and snapped the buckle into place. “Yes, we have everything.”

“Sketchbook?” Aeduan asked.

“Yes.”

“Colored pencils?”

“Yes.”

“Snow pants?”

“Yes.”

“Extra socks?”

“Yes.”

“Pickles and Rook?”

“Yes!” Lisbet and Cora replied in unison.

Aeduan twisted around to look at his sisters. After picking them up from school, they’d stopped at their house long enough for them to grab their belongings for the weekend. Owl, nestled between them in her car seat, was still napping from the car ride to Ponzin.

“You’re sure you have everything?” Aeduan pressed a third time. As he said this, his gaze lingered on Cora. Once, she’d forgotten to pack her favorite pair of pajamas and Aeduan would never forget the shitstorm that followed. However, today Cora only flashed him a toothy smile and nodded, hugging her stuffed elephant to her chest.

Aeduan looked at Lisbet for confirmation. She nodded.

He turned forward in his seat and soon they were pulling onto the sleepy street his childhood home lived on. He glanced in the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of the climbing rose growing on the side of the house. Once upon a time it would blossom with roses, white with the faintest tinge of pink, its vines climbing higher and higher with every passing year so that its limbs eventually reached the window to Aeduan’s bedroom.

Then his mother died. Now it clung to the side of the house like a long-legged spider, naked and dead.

“He wasn’t home,” Lisbet said as they passed Covent Academy. Less than 20 minutes ago the place had been swarming with children, the air thrumming with excitement for the weekend, while cars sat bumper to bumper on both sides of the road. Now all that was left was a tangled web of footprints immortalized on the snowy lawn and a few cars sitting in the teachers’ parking lot. Lisbet waved to the familiar crossing guard packing up their gear into the trunk of his little hatchback. He stopped, freeing a hand to tip his baseball cap in recognition.

“Da works in Tirla on Fridays now.”

“I know,” Aeduan gruffed out, though in truth he had not. Lisbet said nothing else and Cora pounced on the opportunity to chatter away about her friend Marta and a game they had invented at recess. Aeduan half-listened while the rest of him went through the motions of piloting the car home.

Ragnor. This was probably the longest Aeduan had gone without seeing his father. It didn’t take much maneuvering on his part to avoid crossing paths (Ragnor made it easy by never being around), but what was less easy to avoid was the matter of his own absence, not when he shared his father with two other people. For as long as Lisbet and Cora had been alive, they’d all lived under the same roof together. Until, suddenly, they didn’t.

“Do you have glitter?”

Aeduan blinked out at the highway, having lost track of the conversation. “Do I have - ?”

“Glitter.” The word came out hushed, almost reverent, even in Cora’s eight-year-old voice. “I need it for my valentines.”

His sisters had made it very clear that their weekend plans would require craft supplies - not exactly something he kept on hand. Owl hadn’t yet expressed an interest in expanding her artistic palette beyond coloring (thank god) and as for Aeduan, even with swaths of free time at his disposal, he had not been hit with the sudden realization that the solution to all his problems lay in a cross stitch. His life may have detoured to new lows as of late, but he wasn’t that far gone.

As far as he was concerned, February 14th was just another day in the year. It took little effort on his part to ignore its existence, just another one of the many benefits of reaching adulthood. When he was a kid he had no say in the matter. He’d been forced to participate in every inane ritual the holiday called for, including handing out valentines to all of his classmates whether he liked them or not. That kind of public humiliation was far behind him, but thanks to the exploitations of corporate capitalists everywhere, the spirit of St. Valentine was still very much alive, and unlike him, Cora and Lisbet were more than happy to participate in the annual brainwashing.

“You’re eight,” Aeduan had said over the phone the night before when Cora finished rattling off her list of demands. “How many valentines could you possibly need to make?”

“I have a lot of friends,” Cora had informed him matter-of-factly. Then she’d asked, “How many friends do you have?”

And so ended further discussion and Aeduan reluctantly resolved to stop at the nearest arts and crafts store before picking them up from school. Currently, a sizable chunk of the store’s inventory sat in the trunk of his car, though there was one notable exception.

“I didn’t get any glitter,” Aeduan said. Cora’s crestfallen gasp was an arrow to his heart, but he otherwise managed to look diffident.

“But my cards!”

“They’ll be full of just as much love with or without them,” Lisbet consoled her sagely before Aeduan could say anything.

This was not what Cora wanted to hear. She squeezed Pickles tight and directed a pouty glare to the window. Aeduan reached next to him for a paper bag sitting in the passenger’s seat. He passed it to the backseat. “Sulk or snack? Your choice.”

Cora only held Pickles tighter, expression deepening into a scowl that could rival Owl’s.

“She can do both,” Lisbet said, taking the bag and opening it in her lap. “Oh.”

Aeduan glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

“You got donuts.”

“You like donuts.”

“I know I do.” Lisbet pulled out a rainbow sprinkled donut and took a bite. She chewed it slowly, like she was trying to deduce its molecular makeup from a single taste. Then, “Did something happen to Jitters?”

Aeduan’s foot tapped down on the gas pedal and he pulled ahead of the station wagon in the lane next to them before veering smoothly into the open road in front of them.

“No.”

“This is the second time you’ve gotten donuts.”

The station wagon’s horn blared. Aeduan sped up. 70 mph. 80.

“You usually get Jitters on Fridays.”

“If you don’t want donuts anymore, just say so,” Aeduan said, lifting his gaze to the rearview mirror and giving Lisbet a formidable look that immediately transformed him into their father. Lisbet barely noticed. She picked at the sprinkles on her donut, imparting a pensive hm for him to ponder over.

Aeduan knew that hm. It belonged to his father and, by the laws of genetics or overexposure, it had been passed down to him. Lisbet was far too young to be using it. He jabbed a knob on the dashboard and music flowed from the speakers. Aeduan recognized the song though he did not know the band. It sounded like every other generic pop anthem played on the radio - soulless, but just catchy enough to get stuck in your head for hours after hearing it. They rode the rest of the journey in silence save for the radio, each song bleeding into each other, as indistinguishable as the next, until the familiar skyline of Venaza City appeared.

“Can we stop at the library?” Lisbet asked.

Aeduan had to work to stop himself from visibly bristling. He kept his eyes fixed on the car in front of them, a battered winnebago. Thick exhaust clouds billowed out of its tailpipe, the engine rattled.

“What do you need at the library?” he asked.

“A book.”

“Why didn’t you bring something from home?” Aeduan’s next exhale came out heavy with irritation. “I asked if you had everything you needed for the weekend before we left, Lis.”

“I’ve read all my books.”

Aeduan didn’t say anything at first. It was a solid explanation. She was an even more avid reader than he had been at her age, though her insatiable appetite for make-believe stories was thankfully less tragic than his at the time. Aeduan rapped his fingers along the steering wheel.

“Won’t you be busy making your valentines?” he asked, attempting to appeal to her with reason. “I was led to believe you two had lots of friends.” He eyed Cora in the mirror and caught the tiniest curl of a smile partially hidden behind Pickles’ big ears. Lisbet, on the other hand, frowned.

“Why can’t we just stop there on the way home?”

Why indeed.

A week had passed since Aeduan had last seen Iseult and, to his annoyance, even less time since she’d crossed his thoughts, never failing to have Leopold fon Cartorra rudely in tow. He didn’t know what he hated more. The possibility that Iseult may share something with a moronic halfwit such as Leopold or how the plausibility of that possibility made him feel. In the end, it didn’t matter. He had decided to keep his distance, and with that choice came a strangely freeing sense of relief. At first, he’d been angry with himself for resorting to such drastic action. But then he’d realized what an unnecessary weight it’d been to carry around, that warring feeling he felt whenever he saw Iseult. He barely knew her, and yet, she loomed so big in his thoughts. It was too much. Aeduan didn’t have room for her. He had enough problems in his life, real problems. Like finding a new source of income (he couldn’t stay unemployed forever) or what he would do if the adoption fell through (he never let himself entertain this scenario for too long). Letting go of what he could only describe as a tentative friendship at best was the sensible choice.

But Aeduan wasn’t about to share any of this with Lisbet or Cora. He was an adult. He’d earned the right to not have his life choices analyzed by his little sisters, and someday when Lisbet grew up, she’d earn that right too. He did not want to go to the library. Therefore, he would not go to the library.

“Let’s just go home,” he finally said.

From the rearview mirror, Aeduan saw that Lisbet was giving him a strange look.

“What?” he demanded.

“You’re being weird.”

“Thanks,” Aeduan deadpanned. She’d have to be a lot more imaginative than that to put a dent in his ego.

“I don’t get why we can’t stop there,” Lisbet trudged on. She waved a hand at the window, the storefronts lining the street leading to the city square slowly passing by. “It’s not like it’s out of the way.”

“I’m the one driving. I’ll tell you whether or not it’s out of the way.”

“We’re literally going to pass it in 10 seconds.”

“Lis.”

“I’ll be quick.”

The winnebago in front of them came to a sudden stop and Aeduan slammed his foot down on the brakes. The car jolted forward, startling Cora and waking Owl. Honks of outrage immediately sounded off behind them. Lisbet only stared at the reflection of Aeduan in the rearview mirror, an unmistakable challenge in her bright, pale eyes. Aeduan could feel the traitorous way his heart was racing. He tried to tell himself it was from the near accident he’d almost gotten them in.

“Fine,” Aeduan gritted out, sounding like he was using a very different f-word.

Lisbet leaned back in her seat, smug satisfaction written all over her face. Tugging sharply on the steering wheel, Aeduan swerved the car around the winnebago, sending a venomous look to its driver as they passed.

He didn’t feel much like the adult anymore.

#the witchlands #bookends #iseult det midenzi #aeduan #baeseult #aeduan x iseult #my fics #mine

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eilonwiiy · 5 years ago

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Bookends ; A Witchlands AU

Chapter 8

When Aeduan’s old partner shows up, he is confronted with a shocking piece of news. Meanwhile, Iseult learns that not talking is just as hard as talking.

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Ships: Iseult/Aeduan, Safi/Merik, and more… stay tuned!

Tags: modern AU, college setting, family, friendship, humor, fluff, slow-burn, romance, eventual smut

Read on AO3: here

Tag list: (please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @lseultdetmidenzi @twilightlegacy13

* . * . * . * .

“You surprise me, partner.”

Aeduan’s jaw ticced. He didn’t need to look to know who was behind him.

“Never did hear where you ended up. Not that I asked.”

Slowly, Aeduan turned to face Lizl. She hadn’t changed since he left the force. Her dark hair was pulled in a single tight braid, not a hair out of place, leaving her amber brown face bare. Her badge gleamed against her policeman’s uniform, shiny, like she’d polished it the night before. Aeduan knew that she did. They’d been partners, after all.

As tall as Aeduan was, Lizl was taller. He rolled his gaze upward, expression flat. She was grinning smugly at him, like she’d caught him in a more nefarious act than buying coffee.

“What, no hug?” she asked innocently.

Aeduan didn’t react. “What do you want, Lizl?”

“A cup of coffee.” She folded her arms across her chest. Her posture was deceptive in its casualness. In the 14 years he’d known Lizl, he’d come to know that there wasn’t a relaxed bone in her body. “Turns out this place runs a good bargain.” She gestured to him. “Free refills and a floorshow.”

Lizl’s gaze fell to Owl in his arm and Aeduan watched her expression soften. She may have hated Aeduan’s guts, but there were lines she wouldn’t cross. She wouldn’t pull any shots in front of a child. She held herself to a strict moral code that wasn’t just reserved for convicts. It was one of the things Aeduan respected most about her.

That didn’t mean he had to like her, though.

Aeduan glanced over at the coffee counter. Iseult hadn’t come back yet and some of the tension he’d been holding since Lizl’s surprise appearance loosened. That kid was probably still talking her ear off and for that, he was grateful - even if that did mean she was suffering. He didn’t want her to see him with a cop. For some reason, he cared about what she would think. He didn’t know why, but he did.

“What do you want, Lizl?” he demanded again more firmly.

“Nothing. You’re about the last person I’d ever want to run into,” she answered, a little of her casual exterior slipping. There was a hint of sourness in her tone. Her jaw clenched and unclenched with her lips pressed firmly shut as they stared at each other.

“So,” she finally said. “Is it everything you hoped it’d be?”

“Is what everything I’d hoped it would be?” Aeduan asked, more bored than curious.

“Life without the badge.” Lizl paused. “Or your daddy’s leash.”

So much for that strict moral code.

Aeduan swiped his coffee cup off the counter and, without so much as a glance at Lizl, marched to the door and left the cafe. There were lines Aeduan wouldn’t cross in front of Owl too. If he’d stayed, he might forget that. Besides, he didn’t owe her anything. If anything, he’d done her a favor by walking away - from police force and right now.

It didn’t take long for the bells above the door to Jitters to jingle again.

“I just don’t get it,” Lizl voice knifed through the cold. It had started to flurry. “That job was your life. You were in your dad’s pocket. Set to make detective. Become head of the department when Bastien retired. Why throw it all away?”

“Why do you care?” Aeduan snarled, pivoting and getting right up in her face. He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake Owl.

Lizl frowned, not the least bit phased by him invading her personal space. “I don’t care. I’m just- confused. You could have had everything.”

“And with me out of the way you can have everything. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Make detective, have a shot at the promotion.” Lizl only stared stonily at him and Aeduan shook his head, expelling some of his frustration and replacing it with exasperation. “I don’t know why you're angry at me. We were never friends.”

Lizl nodded. “Just partners.”

“Exactly. So what is the problem? I thought you’d be happy that I left.”

A bitter laugh burst from Lizl’s mouth. “Happy?” She shook her head at the ground and dug her boot heel into the concrete, leaving little half moons in the thin layer of snow coating the sidewalk. She buried her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. She seemed to be weighing her options - over what Aeduan had no idea. He just watched, waiting. When Lizl looked up, she was grinning, but there was no amusement in it.

“You have no idea, do you?”

Aeduan’s insides went cold. “What are you talking about?”

Lizl looked off to the side. Something had shifted. The hostility was gone. She just shook her head like she couldn’t get over whatever it was she was about to say. Eventually, she looked him dead in the eye.

“I didn’t make detective.”

A line wedged itself between Aeduan’s eyebrows. He didn’t know what he had expected her to say, but he hadn’t expected that. With or without Aeduan in her way, Lizl was a shoe-in for the job, a star cadet all throughout their time at the academy, second only to Aeduan. No one worked harder than she did. Her not making detective was… inconceivable.

For the first time in months, Aeduan felt the heady rush of a facing puzzle itching to be solved. There had to be some ulterior motive on the line here. She wasn’t giving him the full picture.

“And I didn’t get the promotion.”

Aeduan’s spine straightened. He didn’t like the way Lizl was looking at him. She was still wearing that awful smile that wasn’t a smile. It set his nerves on edge.

“Would you like to know who your father picked for the job?”

Aeduan found himself tensing, bracing for the answer without asking to be told.

“Natan fon Leid.”

Natan fon Leid. It took a whole 5 seconds for the name to sink in. He’d grown into quite the impressive egotistical prick, having been a bully all of Aeduan’s childhood. He’d never really understood how or why the jerk was stationed in the Domestic Violence Unit. He wasn’t exactly a drain on the department, but as far as he could tell, there wasn’t an altruistic bone in Natan’s body. The thought of him running the DVU was unsettling to say the least.

And complete bullshit.

“My father,” Aeduan said, doing nothing to keep the venom out of his voice, “would never replace Bastien with Natan fon Leid. Bastien was a man of honor. Integrity. Natan is nothing more than a power hungry lapdog.”

“I agree,” Lizl responded without blinking an eye. “And now he’s your father’s lapdog.”

Aeduan’s chest puffed out. He hated the way his blood boiled at even the slightest mention of his father, even though they weren’t speaking - even though he had every right to despise him. He still couldn’t temper the urge to come to his defense. And that angered him even more - maybe more than anything Lizl had to say.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he ground out coldly. There wasn’t much else he could do with Owl curled into his chest.

“Ask him,” Lizl simply replied, ununciating each word crisp and cool. It sounded more like a challenge than a suggestion.

He’d do no such thing.

Aeduan had never been crazy enough to carry around some fancy notion that being partners had meant anything to Lizl. She’d never liked him. Hated him, even. But they’d worked alongside each other for years and never let their personal feelings get in the way of justice.

The snow was coming down in earnest now. Owl stirred in Aeduan’s arm breaking the tension for them. Lizl’s expression went blank and after a couple seconds of grudging deliberation, she gestured resignedly to her squad car parked by the sidewalk.

“Do you want a ride?” she asked. She sounded tired, like she already knew the answer.

Aeduan didn’t reply. He didn’t say goodbye. He just turned away from Lizl and left her standing on the sidewalk. There was nothing left to say. Not to her, at least.

* . * . * . * .

The new Fiona Apple album thrumming through Iseult's earbuds was doing nothing to cover up the lively debate going on in her head.

For what felt like the first time in forever, Iseult wasn’t working in the Children’s Room, but rather shelving books upstairs as she once used to. She should have been relieved. She could finally have a quiet evening without the stress of worrying about patrons coming up to her with questions or children unexpectedly popping up between bookshelves.

But she wasn’t relaxed. She couldn’t relax, in fact. No, instead, she was torturing herself over whether or not to call Aeduan.

Leave it to her to let a complete stranger ruin her evening of peace. She still carried his phone number from their encounter at Jitters yesterday in the safety of her pocket, and even though the first thing she'd done when she got to work was find his book, she had yet to get in touch with him.

She’d said she would, so she should. But with each hour that passed, it was growing more and more late, and the window of opportunity to call was getting smaller by the second. Surely Aeduan would still be up. But as the clock approached 9, she found herself wishing she had mustered the courage to call him during the day when it was still light outside.

For Iseult, nighttime meant winding down. Eating leftover Arithuanian takeout right out of the carton in her monkey slippers and fuzzy bathrobe. Curling up with a book and falling asleep mid-paragraph with the light on.

But this was Veñaza City and she was some weird anomaly. While she was nose-deep in Joan Didion, some twenty-something year old was taking their third shot of the evening before heading out to a party. While she was setting her phone alarm for 6 a.m., someone was texting their hook-up. While her and Safi fought over who got to take a shower first in the morning, someone was getting thrown out of a bar.

Veñaza was a college town and it was no secret to Iseult that she was living a much less thrilling life than her former peers. While normally that wouldn’t bother her (why submit herself to the experience of doing jello shots when the option to eat a jello cup and not throw up was right there?), wondering if Aeduan shared her nightime habits made her feel self-conscious. He may have had a kid, but that didn’t make him a monk.

She thought about what it would be like dialing his number and him picking up, his voice deep and rough sounding on the other end of the phone. A shiver ran through her. Then nausea.

She couldn’t do it.

Late night phone calls were reserved for hook-ups or emergencies. Not librarians.

She sighed. She was left with two choices:

She could call first thing in the morning. While she had just spent the last hour wondering what Aeduan did at night, this option brought with it another dilemma: how Aeduan spent his mornings. Iseult didn’t know why, but he seemed like the type of guy to start his day early. Down a glass of orange juice, go for a jog around the neighborhood, and be showered and dressed by 7:30 kind of guy.

Iseult shook her head. She really didn’t need to be fantasizing about his morning routine. And she definitely didn’t need to think about him showering. Nope. She definitely wasn’t thinking about him naked and dripping with water.

Stasis, Iseult. Stasis.

Then there was the more tempting and pathetic option: she could scrap calling him altogether. And what great loss would that be really? she thought to herself. It wasn’t like he was sitting by the phone waiting for her call. He probably didn’t even remember asking for the book or giving her his number in the first place. Her stomach dropped at the thought.

She was overthinking this. Big time.

She rolled back to their conversation yesterday and how Cam had interrupted them. She was sure that Aeduan had been about to ask her something just as Cam burst through the door. She didn't hold it against the kid, but she was dying to know what Aeduan was going to say. And then, of course, there was the mystery of the cop. She'd seen them talking outside. By the looks of it, it wasn't a friendly chat. It had ended with Aeduan storming off and the woman cop looking troubled.

Iseult slipped a hand into her pocket and dug out the napkin with Aeduan’s phone number. She unfolded it and looked it over, just as she had the dozen or so times since he’d given it to her. By now she’d memorized the 12 neat letters strung together in broken cursive underneath the number. Aeduan Amalej.

A pulled in a shaky breath and retrieved her phone next. For a paralyzing moment, she held them out in front of her, the number in one hand and her phone in the other. Thinking. Stalling.

“Moon Mother, you are such an idiot,” she muttered to herself before unlocking her phone - her hand shaking with nerves - and punched in Aeduan’s number.

Right into a new text message.

Ok, so she’d told him he’d call him. But this way she didn’t need to find out just how devastating her stutter be over the phone. With her sanity hanging in the balance, copping out of calling was of little consequence. There were way more pathetic things she’d done in her 21 years of living. This wouldn’t be a highlight in her memoirs.

With that in mind, she got to it and prayed that she typed faster than her determination could devolve into an entirely new spiral about whether or not a text was too casual.

* . * . * . * .

Aeduan knew he was in trouble the moment he opened the book.

Chapter One

My Father Meets the Cat

Owl’s eyes had widened as Adeuan read the words and she’d peered up at him from her place under his arm nestled into his side.

It had taken every bit of restraint he had to keep his expression neutral. The librarian just had to pick a book that featured a stray cat.

Iseult had been right though: Owl loved the book. Every night for the last week, Owl would crawl into his bed, make her nest, and sit there, impatiently waiting for him to finish meditating and running through his nightly stretches. He made sure to take his time; he wasn’t about to teach Owl that she could get anything she wanted just by giving him those sad puppy eyes of hers. He'd had plenty of practice resisting those eyes with Cora, who as a little more needy than Lisbet; Owl was powerless over him. Most of the time.

Meditation was an important, albeit unexpected, part of Aeduan’s life. It was the one lesson from Evrane that actually stuck. Sometimes he wondered why, out of everything, this one practice never wavered. Over the years, it had become more than a ritual in calming the body and quieting the mind. It had become his anchor. Something he depended on. Somewhere along the way, he’d learned that how he started and ended his day was the one thing he had true control over. He'd been taught early in life that there was no prelude to change. If he could hold on to this one thing, he would.

Luckily for Owl, he was done with meditating for tonight. Even with his years of practice, he hadn’t found much solace in it. He couldn’t get what Lizl told him yesterday out of his head.

He had told himself to forget about it the moment he’d walked away. That the police department wasn’t his problem anymore. He’d left for a reason, and even if he tried to convince himself that it was all because of Owl, he knew deep down that that wasn’t true.

Storming away from Lizl had felt good. Right. But now…

Doubt plagued his every thought. He couldn’t shake it off. This feeling that Lizl was telling the truth. They’d never liked each other, but he knew that - just like him - she respected him enough to trust him on the job. He saw it in the moments that mattered most. She was one of the good ones.

And the fact remained that Lizl wasn’t a manipulator. It wasn’t in her nature. Why bother with mind games when honesty landed harder? There really wasn’t any reason for her to lie to him. So that meant what she’d told him was the truth.

But why? Why would his father give Natan the job? He was an unmitigated piece of shit and Ragnor had always shown very little tolerance for unmitigated pieces of shit. If his father had promoted Natan to the top spot, then he had a reason. A good one.

He should just forget it, he told himself for the hundredth time.

For the next half hour, Aeduan found his mind wandering, even as he read aloud, and it was some time before he realized that Owl had drifted off to sleep.

He sighed, letting his head drop against the headboard, and the book propped up in his hand fell closed against the comforter with a soft thwump. He stared at the opposite wall, knowing he should transfer Owl to her own bed before it got any later, but he couldn’t find the motivation to move.

Lizl. Ragnor. Natan. Their names were an endless chant in his head. A chant that rang of doubt and the promise of another sleepless night for Aeduan.

There was only one way to put an end to the madness. He’d need to go directly to the source: his father.

The thought alone was enough to make Aeduan want to slide down his mattress and pull the covers over his head. He didn’t, of course. But the impulse was there, as embarrassing as that was.

It’d been 3 long months since he’d last seen his father. 3 months since he’d marched into his office, left his gun and badge on his desk, and walked out of his life. Ragnor hadn’t even tried to get in touch with him since. Aeduan hadn’t expected him to.

He didn’t know how he felt about that. Hurt, probably. His father’s silence was louder than most. But Aeduan was the last bit of Dysi left on this earth. Had it been easy for his father to let go of his only son? He’d done that with everything else that reminded him of Dysi after she’d passed, so why not him too?

Pressure pounded behind Aeduan’s eyes. His head ached. Not getting more than an hour or two of sleep the night before must have been catching up to him. Maybe he’d just let Owl stay in his bed. If he were being honest with himself, he didn’t want to be alone right now.

A soft chime broke the silence in the bedroom. Curious, Aeduan turned to his nightstand where the sound had come from. His phone softly glowed with activity and he could see the animated little envelope on the screen that meant he had a new text message. Careful not to disturb Owl, he reached for the phone and grabbed it from the stand. He settled back against his pillows, expecting to see something from Lisbet, the only person he had the patience to text with - even if she did bombard him with memes he didn’t understand. Before even opening the message, he was all ready to tell her to get off her phone and go to bed.

But it wasn’t Lis.

It was an unknown number. He frowned. But then he read the message, and he realized who it was. His heart stopped.

Unknown Number – 9:07 PM

>> I found the book you wanted. I put it on hold for you. You can come pick it up anytime.

>> (Hi. This is Iseult from the library.)

Without even realizing it, the noise in Aeduan’s head faded to nothing. Iseult had said she’d let him know about the book, but he was still surprised to hear from her. And - he thought, checking the time - so late.

He reread the message a couple more times before clicking the screen off. He was about to return his phone to the nightstand when he paused.

He should probably respond with… something.

Aeduan pulled his hand back, easing back on to his pillows, and opened the message. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, trying to think of something to say. His eyes flicked to Owl, dead asleep next to him, then he began typing.

Aeduan - 9:18 PM

>> Ok.

Well. Ok then. Obligation fulfilled.

Aeduan took off his reading glasses and stowed them along with his phone on his nightstand before he switched off the lamp, plunging the room in darkness. He settled beneath his covers and rested his head on his pillow. He felt the ball of warmth that was Owl curled up beside him. Moonlight streamed in from the windows, and for a few quiet minutes, he watched the snow falling outside.

An hour later, Aeduan rolled over and reached for the phone on his nightstand.

Aeduan - 10:16 PM

>> I’ll come by tomorrow and pick it up.

#the witchlands #witchlands #baeseult #iseult det midenzi #aeduan #lizl #iseult x aeduan #truthwitch #bookends #my fic #mine

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