#jolting clamper

[rawrampmag]

ASHLEY SHERLOCK is Just A Name

ASHLEY SHERLOCK Just A Name

ASHLEY SHERLOCK is a Manchester-based guitarist/singer-songwriter who cites his inspirations as Jeff Buckley, The Marcus King Band, The Cadillac Three, and Gary Clark Jr. His highly anticipated debut album “Just A Name” will be released by Ruf Records on Friday 16 June 2023. “The whole recording process was a real learning experience,” explains Ashley, chatting about the album created at…

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Boyfriend x GN Reader NSFW

CW: lots of kink (dom-sub) play (Yan & Reader) , SFW

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Boyfriend is the type of boyfriend who will do all sorts of kinks you are into as long as it's with you. Submissive? A-OK. Dominant? A-OK.

Yan! Boyfriend who prioritizes your pleasure and fantasy over his, he is open to all roles you want him to take. Take him or have him take you? Doesn't matter at all! As long as it's you ^^

"Bark for me, cmon' pup."

"Woof!"

A collar around his neck with a leash on it tugs him closer toward you as he crawls toward you on four. He looks really expectant of what you will be doing to him. Maybe you should use him as a footstool as well.

Yan! Boyfriend who is very vocal in voicing how he's feeling (unless... ekhem... he's told to not). Always makes you feel like you are the one in control and will always say something that will boost your confidence and ego.

"You are making me feel so good... more..., do me more yeah? I'm going nuts just from having you feeling my skin like this..." Blue whimpers as he kisses your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys here and there.

Yan! Boyfriend who will welcome any lashes you gave him if you are into that, wax play might be his favorite, or perhaps Shibari if you know how to tie him up. Cuffing his limbs while blindfolding him is good too. Everything is his favorite as long as it's you who are doing him.

Yan! Boyfriend who will help you subconsciously while you are doing him. Jerk his hips so that your hand will accidentally feel one of those sensitive veins or angle his ass right so that your finger hit his prostate.

"Love, don't leave me unattended yeah? My cock is aching for your- mmh-!" Blue jolts as you place the gag around his lip, shutting him for well.

Yan! Boyfriend who really likes eating you out/giving you head, it's almost as though he is having a dessert! Those sweet nectars of yours are just so addicting ♡ will do that whenever and wherever he gets the chance.

The thing about Yan! Boyfriend is that he really REALLY likes anything you do to him. For example, he is neutral with foot stuff but the moment you use yours to give him a footjob... let's just say he won't stop bucking his up to have you rub that one vein of his.

"Ghak- love! I- I think-! Feels goooood!!"

Yan! Boyfriend who likes it if you clamp his nipples with those clampers, you should totally ram his inside too with all those vibrators all over him!

Yan! Boyfriend who can be dominant too! He knows all sorts of techniques that he should use against you. Uh... please forget the image and impression you had on him the first time you two met! He looked like a player but he wasn't!

Yan! Boyfriend who enjoys the 'face down ass up during' this play. Will rest his hand, tugging on your hair. Your ass? Abused. Red, with his hand imprinted on your cheeks. Nipples? Abused. Just one blow and you are twitching from the oversimulation. Sex? Abused. How many times have you come?

"What's wrong love? Can't keep up with me? Too bad we are going all in 'till the sun rises."

Yan! Boyfriend who enjoys seeing his cum dribbling out of you, painting your thighs white with it. You just look so ravishing with the amount of bite marks and hickeys he left all over you! How about another round?

Yan! Boyfriend who likes to scoop his cum back into you while his fingers feel your inside again, making you twitch from the high you are currently riding. He still has a lot to be loaded into you so bear with him okay?

Yan! Boyfriend who loves whispering all those degrading praises as his cock rams your insides, will stroke your hair to ease you down while at it.

"My love... whoring out for me so well... taking my cock so well hm?"

Yan! Boyfriend is just as good as Yan! Lawyer Husband in terms of aftercare! Will shower with you only to end up having you ride his cock again in the tub or your hole drilled in the shower. There, there, let it out. He'll just have to wash you again right there.

Yan! Boyfriend who likes to leave hickeys anywhere that is visible for people to see. It may be subtle bite marks or those faint hickeys so that you won't whine about it so much.

But it's still there to let people know you are his.

[idroppedtwentypoundsoftnt]

Hopping on along.

[a cute, fluffy story of joot finding a bunny and getting attached]

—

Jotaro stared silently at the tiny mammal, watching it's cold body burrow deeper into his blankets and sheets. It's beady eyes anxiously staring into his blue ones, waiting to be eaten or attacked. But Kujo simply observed him. He felt... Nervous. After Egypt, he wasn't accustomed to being gentle with things. Especially rabbits that were malnourished and tiny as all hell.

Shifting his gaze eyes, he plucked a piece of lettuce from the plate he had brought up, quietly placing it in front of the bunny. Nose twitch. Blink. Shift. The stare off continued. Sighing, he mumbled a good grief and flopped back onto the floor, relaxing on his wall. Looking to his right, he silently pondered what to do.

He could give it up to an animal clinic, but most likely it'll be mistreated when adopted... Or, that's what he convinced himself. Groaning at his internal choice, he looked at the animal, "...Goddammit. Guess I'm keeping you around." Of course, the rabbit didn't respond, it's body merely shifting from the sudden noise.

Luckily, his mother wouldn't care too much, so he didn't have to worry about that. Whatever, he'd overthink it later. Scooting his body closer, he rest his cheek on his palm, watching the thing eat, it's ears twitching. Oh, it was dirty. How do you clean rabbits?

A trip downstairs and a bucket of water later, Jotaro set the items on the floor before turning to the animal. Its body was much more relaxed. Good. His large hands, though trembling, carefully picked it up and sat down in front of the bucket. Dipping them into the warm water, he expected the bunny to panic or at least squirm, but it sat. It must feel nice, considering he found it freezing outside.

Making sure not to press his thumbs too roughly on its fur, he used his nails to scrub off the dirty and grime. Slowly, the water turned into a light brown, the rabbit being scooped up and wrapped in a small towel. Massaging it dry with his fingers, he felt a bit prideful at the newly clean pet, tossing the towel behind him and dumping the water out his window. (He was too lazy to walk back downstairs.)

Okay... Well, now what? Rubbing his neck, he watched as the baby stumbled around, not familiar with it's feet. It's nose pressing into his ankle as it tried to stand up, earning a light chuckle. Huh... It was— cute.

Wait, what? No, no no— He was Jotaro fucking Kujo. He didn't call things cute. So where did— Oh, wait—

Star.

Aqua eyes roll as he allows the stand to come out, watching as it's precise vision buried into the rabbit. "Ora..?" It muttered, body floating down to see the baby a bit better, eyes bright with curiosity. One of it's large fingers slightly prodded the bunny, it's majestic hair swishing as its head moves to the side. The rabbit, surprised, was rolled over onto it's back, it's small feet frantically kicking into the air.

Panicked, Star used his pinky to help it flip back over, sighing in silence seeing it uninjured. It was.. interesting. Jotaro knew Star was simple showing his own curiosity, maybe a bit more extreme, but it was like he had his own personality. He never got to see it much. Considering all the two did for a while was beat the shit out of assholes left and right.

It was.. a nice change of pace.

Soon, the bunny became more accustomed to it's surroundings, it's body tumbling and rolling around the place. He laughed a little, a grin awkwardly sprawling on his lips as Star let out an excited 'Ora!' when the rabbit tried clampering it's way onto his hand.

Finally, the sun drifted down, casting a dark shadow across the earth. Star Plat had long since disappeared, and the bunny was now just exploring his bed as he laid on his side, feeling exhausted. Though, he honestly didn't do much that day. Yawning lowly, his head sinks into the pillow, his vision fading to darkness...

—

"You Joestars are all the same... Weak men trying to play hero. But see where playing hero gets you, Jotaro?" That voice sent venom down his spine, his hands desperately clawing at the hand on his throat. Blood dripping from his face as he sputtered out weak words of defiance.

Around him, they all laid dead. Kakyoin, his grandfather, Avdol, Polnareff, Iggy. All mutilated, their eyes digging into his soul as words snuck into his ears, cursing him for their deaths. "They're dead! All of them, Jotaro— and simply because you were too weak and naive to defeat I, Dio!" God, the laughter was worse.

No, his mind screamed, I did everything I could! But the words never managed to leave his lips as a hand plunged into his stomach, blood splattering from his lips. The pain burned through him, the guilt even worse. He didn't kill them, he— he—!

—

The twenty something year old jolted awake, his breathing frantic as his eyes were wide open. Slowly, his breathing evened out as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Releasing a shaky sigh, his legs swing, his feet connecting to the cold floor as he desperately tried to anchor back down to earth. His face being buried within his large hands.

Before anything else could get worse, he jumped at the feeling of something sliding around his arm. Looking down, he breathed out seeing a vine. A stand? For some reason, he didn't feel threatened, nor scared. Shifting, his eyes widened seeing where the vines origin point.

Lil' Ruth, as the rabbit had beem so lovingly named, stood and stared at him. He could see the worry flicker in his beady eyes, the vines tightening a little as flowers bloomed from certain spots. Slowly, Ruth hopped over to one and opened his mouth, like he was going to nibble. But then.. closed it? Confused, Kujo sat fully on the bed and watched the rabbit repeat the motion.

He.. wants me to eat it? Still a bit shaken up, Jotaro hesitantly plucked a petal from one of the bloomed flowers, placing it in his mouth and chewing. An odd taste harrassed his tongue, his eyes narrowing in confusion. Swallowing, it took a moment, but soon his mind felt— at ease. His body relaxing as he felt tired yet peaceful.

"When did you develop a stand?" He murmured, laying back down as Ruth took a spot next to his side, his body warm against Jotaro's side. Maybe it was when the caretaker called and said Ruth had got out? Was he— shot by the arrow?

Growing questions were squashed as his growing relaxation smoothed him into a gentle slumber, his large hand stroking the rabbit's fur.

"Thank you.."

—

@avp0l @askajoestar

[pitterpatterpot]

Lion’s Pride: Chapter Seventeen

“Well, we should all leave!” Dorian bursts out of his room, carrying his bags with everyone else trailing after him.

“You all can’t just leave!” Aelin snaps.

“Yes we can,” Chaol deadpans, and barges right past her, both his and Yrene’s bags in his hands.

“Where’s your cane? You’re supposed to be lamed and need help!”

“I don’t need help running away from you!”

“Goodbye,” Yrene gives her a strained smile as she walks past, her baby clinging to her chest.

Dammit. Aelin can’t be angry when such a cute little blob waves its hand at her. But she can wince as another howl comes from the lounge room, Gavriel and Lysandra’s distressed voices raising in pitch as they try to calm Aedion. Moving him to the very room itself had been hell.

“His memories should slowly return to him!” Yrene calls back. “Just try to keep anything from shocking him!”

“He lost nineteen years of memories!” Aelin roars down the hall. “He’s five! What the hell are we supposed to do?”

“Pray,” Manon smirks as she slides past Aelin, striding down the hall to catch up with Dorian, who has long fled the scene.

Cursing under her breath, Aelin barges back into the room, and winces at the image of Aedion sitting in a corner, scowling, a book in his hand and raised above his head. Gavriel and Lysandra hover at the other side of the room, both seeming shocked and shaken.

“Have you seriously been letting him throw books?” Aelin snaps, eyeing the paper volumes scattered across the room with dismay.

“He has no idea who we are!” Lysandra says, clearly distressed, her hair and clothes in disarray. “And he’s angry now!”

Gavriel has crouched down as they bicker, making himself level with Aedion, who growls and pulls his arm back. Wincing, Gavriel places up his hands in surrender, fully aware that even with the mindset of a child Aedion still has the strength of an adult.

And he does not need to be hit with another hardcover book. The bookcase Aedion is curled up against is already half-empty.

“Aedion,” Gavriel keeps his voice to a soft coo. “Why are you angry?”

“Go away!”

At the cry, Gavriel shifts back a step. “Alright, alright. Do you want to see Aelin?”

The queen and shifter pause in their bickering to watch the interaction. Aelin smiles as Aedion glances at her, and winces at the tiny growl he releases.

“She isn’t squishy!”

At that, Aelin’s mind blanks. “What?”

“Aelin is tiny! And squishy! You’re not my squishy!”

Aelin stares, not even paying attention to the loud laughter that erupts behind the door, no doubt the rest of the court listening in. Lysandra has to turn away, shoulders shaking, even Gavriel clamping his lips tight together so as not to shock Aedion with booming laughter.

Oh, they’ll all laugh later. They’ll laugh all right.

“Aedion,” Gavriel says, ignoring Aelin as she slowly turns away with her face in her hands, “do you know who the cadre are?”

At that, interest sparks in his son’s eyes, and Aedion nods quickly.

“So you know who Gavriel is?”

Another nod, this time slower and more suspicious.

Gavriel points to himself. “That’s me. I’m Gavriel.”

Silence ticks throughout the room as Aedion narrows his eyes, clearly thinking over what Gavriel has said. Everyone holds their breath, inside and outside the room, as they wait to see if any recognition will be made.

“You’re not a lion!”

“Oh dear gods,” Aelin mumbles, collapsing in an armchair.

Yet Gavriel’s lips simply twitch up into a smile. “I am a lion.”

“No you’re not.”

His son’s abruptness and stubbornness makes Gavriel chuckle, and he shifts. Eyes wide, Aedion scrambles against the wall for a moment, staring at the large mountain lion now in front of him. Licking his jaws, Gavriel lies down, setting his head on his paws. Best to allow Aedion to come to him.

Creeping forward, Aedion sniffs his scent, eyes narrowed still as he observes Gavriel. He tentatively reaches a hand out and touches Gavriel’s back, stroking it down his fur much like one would do a cat. Releasing a rumble, Gavriel bumps his nose against Aedion’s leg.

“Lion!” Aedion grins, face lighting with joy. “Gavriel!”

Sighing, Lysandra collapses in a chair next to Aelin, watching as Aedion pokes and prods his father, crawling around him. It doesn’t take long for Aedion appear to fully relax, sitting back and allowing Gavriel to sit up. Aedion smiles charmingly at them, eyes full of childlike curiosity. It’s very sweet, considering how distressed he was before. An amazing change, really, that they didn’t expect.

However, as soon as Gavriel shifts back, the male is met with a scowl and a book to the head.

“Shit!” Gavriel barks in surprise, a hand darting to his forehead in surprise as he falls back.

At his exclamation Lysandra and Aelin both stand up, going towards him, only to be shocked once Aedion darts past them and shoots out the door. Gavriel, Lysandra and Aelin all stand, ready to run after them, only to pause at the commotion that suddenly explodes out in the hall.

They dart out, and are met with the image of Vaughan collapsed on the ground, Lorcan shielding Elide, Fenrys standing on a small table and Rowan pinning a squirming Aedion to the ground. The demi-fae struggles under Rowan’s grip, not seemingly bothered by the domineering presence of the king and full-blooded fae. Apparently, children have little consideration for such titles.

“Calm down!” Rowan growls, pinning Aedion’s arms behind his back and forcing him back onto his stomach.

“Off!” Aedion snaps, kicking out a leg and catching Rowan in the hip, making him grunt even if he doesn’t move.

“Rowan!” Gavriel surges towards them. “Let him up!”

“He’s not dangerous!” Elide agrees, scowling as she pushes Lorcan to the side.

Aedion’s eyes lock on Aelin’s. “Evalin!”

Aelin sucks in a quick breath at once again being compared to her mother. Yet Aedion’s distressed look, the way he cowers away from everybody as if they are strangers…

Because they are strangers. Because, to him, he has woken up in his home with strangers who say his name and won’t tell him where his family is. Only Aelin looks like Evalin, looks like someone Aedion knows and would seek for comfort.

Everyone else is scary.

“Yes, Aedion,” Aelin says slowly, ignoring everyone’s gasps.

She nods to Rowan, and he releases Aedion. He knocks into her, staying on his knees as he buries his head into her stomach and shakes. He doesn’t shed a tear, Aedion being as hard willed as a child as he is an adult, yet clings on with desperation. Aelin stiffly places a hand on top of his head.

“Did you meet Gavriel?” Aelin asks, fully knowing the answer.

“Lion!” Aedion nods against her.

“Why did you throw a book at his head?” Aelin asks, everyone turning to look at the purple mark blooming on Gavriel’s forehead that’s sure to fade soon.

“Stranger danger!” Aedion scowl fiercely, stubbornly refusing to look at anyone but Aelin.

Fenrys coughs, the sound clearly a masking of laughter. Vaughan simply groans from his spot on the floor. He was a stranger, apparently, and the granted him a full-on tackle.

Sucking in another breath, and summoning all her patience, Aelin kneels down to take Aedion’s hands in hers. “He’s your father, Aedion.”

One again, silence falls. Everyone tenses as they wait for his reaction, fully expecting more tears.

Instead, Aedion turns to curiously gaze at Gavriel, eyes bright and curious.

“My papa?”

“Yes,” Aelin nods, feeling exhaustion fill her bones.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Aedion stays quiet, seemingly to think for a moment. How well would a five-year-old take the news? Would it shock him? Make him overjoyed? Has Aedion even felt the pain of his father’s absence yet?

Instead, Aedion seems to look at Gavriel with curiosity. “…do you wanna play?”

Gavriel blinks. “Yes.”

Nodding, Aedion clampers to his feet, grabs Gavriel’s hand, and pulls him down the hallway. “Come see my room!”

Everyone watches them go, before Lysandra jolts, remembering that the room is no longer as it once was. Aelin seems to make that same realisation, meeting each others eyes in fear. But they can leave Gavriel to deal with that, they’ve done enough.

Vaughan moans from the floor as Fenrys nudges him with a foot.

~~~

“Why don’t we go to my room instead?” Gavriel suddenly suggests as they round the corner. “I have games there.”

Aedion pauses and turns to him, cocking his head to the side. “Games?”

“I have lead and paper, you could draw me something,” Gavriel knows he’s said the right thing as soon as Aedion’s eyes light up and he nods.

He leads Aedion to his room, keeping a firm grasp on his hand as Aedion all but tries to pull in front of him, never minding that he has no idea where Gavriel’s room actually is. It’s as if something has electrified him, or at the very least has removed whatever dampers Aedion held.

His eyes are bright, his grin wide and innocent, and he almost looks as though he’s shining with light.

Gods. Gavriel doesn’t know how to look after a child! Nothing at all! This wasn’t taught in the war camps; much less how to look after a fully grown demi-fae who thinks he’s five! But he can’t panic. Yrene said it was temporary, and that it would be best not to confuse or hurt Aedion to worsen the situation. He needs to stay calm, if only for his son’s sake.

“This is my room,” Gavriel opens the door. “Down the stairs, and to the left. If you ever need to find me try coming here.”

Aedion nods quickly, bursting into Gavriel’s room as soon as his father releases his hand, eager eyes taking in everything around him. Gavriel stands guard as Aedion feels the covers on the bed, pokes the items on his dresser, and admires the weapons he keeps against one wall (yet Aedion never tries to touch any of them, no matter how much his wide-eyed look of wonder worries Gavriel).

“Here’s some paper,” Gavriel walks over to his desk, and opens the draws, pulling out the supplies. “And here’s some pencils. I don’t have any colours, but I could find some if you’d like?”

But Aedion simply sits straight down on the floor, takes the paper, and starts scribbling. Gavriel sits down in his chair, watching Aedion for a few moments before eyeing some of the papers on his desk. May as well accomplish work while they’ve been blessed with a few moments of peace.

It doesn’t take long for Gavriel to fill out forms and compose letters, or so he thinks. Once he feels a tug on his pants he jolts, then looks down at Aedion, who stares up at him with inquisitive eyes. A glance at the clock shows an hour has passed.

An hour. Thank the gods he gave Aedion extra paper, because every sheet is filled to the brim with some kind of image.

“I’m bored,” Aedion mumbles, looking down at the pencil as he toys with it.

“Of course,” Gavriel glances at the clock once again. “You know, it’s nearly time for lunch, so why don’t we go do that?”

Perking up, Aedion clampers to his feet and makes a dash for the door.

“Wait!” Gavriel sprints after him, and grabs his hand. “You can’t just run off. We’re going to go back to the room we were in before, and have someone bring us lunch.”

Seeming very unhappy with the idea, Aedion nods slowly, and allows Gavriel to lead him from the room. The Lion has to sigh at the mood coming from Aedion as the demi-fae fidgets on a couch, glancing at the window and obviously itching to be outside.

But they can’t have people knowing that the general is… unavailable at the moment, a five-year-old instead taking his place.

“After lunch,” Gavriel considers his words carefully, “why don’t we go out and take a walk?”

“Yes!” Aedion immediately grins, seeming ready to leave the room at the very moment.

Gods, Gavriel has no idea what he’s doing. They can’t go outside. What if someone spots Aedion and sees it as an opportunity to attack? But how does he now explain that they can’t do what he just promised?

Then Fenrys walks into the room.

Immediately, his eyes widen, and he starts backing away.

“Fenrys!” Gavriel jumps to his feet. “Do. Not. Move.”

The male freezes, eyes darting between them, dark and worried. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Work.”

“What kind of work?”

“Trading documents.”

“Strange,” Gavriel narrows his eyes, stalking towards Fenrys. “Because this morning you were happy that you finished it all.”

They both stare at each other. Gavriel darts out and grabs Fenrys’s arm as he tries to run out the door, Fenrys groaning as Gavriel drags him back into the room.

“Aedion,” Gavriel drags Fenrys to stand in front of the staring Aedion, “this is Fenrys. Do you know who he is?”

“Wolf!”

“Yes,” Gavriel grins, “and he’s going to stay with you while I get some lunch.”

Fenrys whips his head around to stare at Gavriel, fear illuminating his face. “Gavriel, I can’t,” Fenrys drops his voice into a hushed whisper. “I don’t know how to look after children!”

“You love them! And he’s not an actual child!”

‘Exactly! He throws another book and I’m dead!”

“Want to play with Fenrys?” Gavriel suddenly asks Aedion, who perks up and nods.

“Yes please!” Aedion stares at Fenrys, eyes shining with joy.

Fenrys’s heart cracks, and he sags in Gavriel’s grip.

“Damn you,” Fenrys whispers to the older fae. “Damn you to hell.”

Gavriel claps him on the shoulder. “He likes drawing. And animals.”

“I can only do one of those thing!” Fenrys calls as Gavriel runs out of the room.

He turns and stares at Aedion, who sits cross-legged on the couch. Aedion blinks at him, and Fenrys blinks back. What would the boyo have liked as a child? From what he’s seen so far Aedion is just as headstrong as he usually is, not being fazed by much. Perhaps even less now that in caution as an adult has melted away.

“Can you really turn into a wolf?” Aedion asks, chewing on a finger.

“You bet,” Fenrys smirks. “Stop chewing on your hand and I’ll show you.”

Aedion’s palm immediately drops into his lap, and Fenrys shifts.

“Wow!” Aedion scrambles forward, running a hand through Fenrys’s fur. “You’re a wolf!”

Fenrys may preen slightly as he sits, his tail wagging while Aedion admires him. It’s gratifying, he must admit, to be looked at with such awe.

“Can we go for a walk?” Aedion tilts his head to the side, eyes wide and curious. “Please? You could run really fast!”

Fenrys barely refrains from shifting back so he can say he’s not a dog, but just dips his head in agreement. Cheering, Aedion surges to his feet, and Fenrys follows him out of the door. They hurtle through the halls, only gaining slight notice before they burst outside and sprint into the centre of the garden. As soon as they reach a patch of lush grass Aedion rolls onto his back, laughing loudly.

“That was fun!” Aedion yells, staring happily into the sky.

Fenrys shifts back, and sits next to him. “It was. Hey boyo, do you like Gavriel?”

“Yes,” Aedion watches a bug fly past.

“Are you alright with him being your… papa?” Fenrys tries to say it as casually as possible.

“He’s not,” Aedion makes a grab for the bug, scowling as it flies out of reach.

Fenrys, however, freezes. “He’s not?”

“Nu-uh,” Aedion squints at the insect. “My papa didn’t want me or my mama.”

Staring, Fenrys tries to process what has been said. So Aedion doesn’t really accept Gavriel as his father, especially if her doesn’t consider him to be such a thing at all.

“He smells good though,” Aedion gains Fenrys’s attention once again, those blue eyes staring at the fae male. “Like Aelin and Evalin and Rhoe.”

That brings a small smile to Fenrys’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like sunshine.”

Fenrys nods, humming to himself. Oh, he is going to tell Gavriel that. And everyone else. And Aedion once he gets his memories back. Really, this fact is simply never going to be forgotten.

“Hey,” Fenrys nudges Aedion, “want to go see the dogs?”

“Yes!”

Fenrys laughs as he pulls Aedion along with him, the latter barely containing his excitement.

~~~

“One job!” Gavriel paces the room, running his hands through his hair. “Fenrys had one job!”

Rowan watches from the doorway. “I’m sure they’re just having lunch or something.”

“I was getting lunch!”

“Then they went out.”

Gavriel slowly turns to meet Rowan’s gaze. “If they went out, then that means my twenty-four years old son, who now has the mentality of a child, could be engaging with all sorts of people.”

Rowan pauses, and hesitates. “That may be the case…”

“We’re finding them!”

Sighing, Rowan follows the Lion out of the room.

~~~

“Where’d you learn to make flower crowns?” Fenrys asks, watching Aedion weave roses together.

Of course, he already removed all the thorns. He values his life after all, and knows that angering Gavriel would place it in threat.

“Aelin,” Aedion states proudly, holding it up. “She’ll want them.”

“But she’s a baby?”

“Uh-huh!” Aedion starts on another. “But I can teach her!”

“You’re already practicing to teach her?” Fenrys’s heart pangs. “You must really love her.”

Aedion nods, then looks to Fenrys. “Do you have a sister?”

“I have… I had a brother,” Fenrys turns away slightly, busying himself with cutting away thorns.

“Connall!” Aedion says in recognition, the flowers now forgotten in his hands. “The other wolf!”

“Wow, you’ve really heard all the stories, huh?” Fenrys grins. “Who’s your favourite? The Wolves, Lion or one of the birds?”

“Connall!” Aedion grins. “Connall’s my favourite! The cool wolf!”

Normally, if it was anyone else about anything else, Fenrys would be indignant. He’d argue, laugh it away, or simply roll his eyes. But the fact that Connall, his brother, used to be Aedion’s favourite, the one he loved as a child…

And he’ll never meet him. Gavriel’s child will never meet his favourite member of the cadre. Connall will never know that, no matter how in the shadows he believed himself to be, the son of one of their closest companions held him in such a light.

“Yeah,” Fenrys swallows thickly, reaching out to muse Aedion’s hair. “He was the cool wolf.”

Aedion nods seriously, as if a true statement has been made and confirmed. He turns back to the plants in his hands, missing the way Fenrys’s eyes darken and gain a sheen.

“Aedion?”

But the look is quickly wiped away, Fenrys turning to greet Gavriel’s voice. The Lion turns the corner, glancing around the hedge. He visibly sags as he sees Aedion sitting with Fenrys, both of them laden with flowers of all kind. Rowan follows after him, raising brows at the scene.

“Hi!” Aedion waves.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Gavriel sighs. “What are you two doing?”

“Making crowns,” Aedion holds one up as an example.

“Aedion,” Gavriel looks to his son, “you were supposed to wait for lunch.”

“But we came out to run!” Aedion scowls, apparently just as argumentative as a child as he is an adult. “You said we couldn’t go for a walk, not that I couldn’t go with him!”

Coughing, Fenrys turns away, Rowan himself needing to clamp his lips shut as Gavriel blinks at Aedion’s rebuttal.

“That,” Gavriel hesitates, “is not the point.”

“You said to play with Fenrys!”

“I-I did,” Gavriel struggles for words, “but you can’t just leave like that without telling an adult.”

Aedion points to Fenrys. “Grown-up.”

“I- yes,” Gavriel glares at Rowan’s shaking shoulder. “But you need to tell me.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to know.”

“Why?”

“I just do, Aedion,” Gavriel rubs at his face.

He’s relieved when Aedion nods slowly, seeming to accept this fact.

“But why?”

Apparently not.

“Let’s go have lunch,” Gavriel mumbles, ignoring Rowan and Fenrys’s wheezing.

~~~

“Aedion! Put the spoon down! Rowan isn’t a stranger!”

~~~

“I’m tired,” Gavriel groans, closing the door to Aedion’s old room, the latter inside and sleeping. “I’m so, so tired, Fenrys. And did you have to tell him that last story? It just riled him up.”

“Better than being stupid enough to give him a spoon,” Fenrys scowls.

“I didn’t think he was still afraid of Rowan!” Gavriel unlocks the door to his own room once they reach it. “You weren’t exactly jumping to stop him either.”

A confused look flashes across Fenrys’s face. “Stop him?”

Gavriel shakes his head, eyeing the mess in his room. “At least he’s asleep now.”

Fenrys releases a low whistle at all the drawings strewn across Gavriel’s floor. “The boyo does like drawing. Or did? I’m not sure what tense to use.”

He continues on, even as Gavriel kneels on the ground, staring at a drawing in his hand. Then he picks up another, comparing the two as all blood drains from his face.

“I mean, he’s still Aedion, but he has the mind of a five-year-old, and that’s pretty much because he’s lost his memories. So do we use past tense since it’s not our normal Aedion, or do we use present tense because that’s who he is currently? I’ve been debating this and… Gavriel? Are you alright?”

But the Lion is still on his knees, hands shaking in a way they never have before. Fenrys slowly creeps forward, kneeling by his companion as Gavriel continues to stare.

“Gavriel?” Fenrys asks, trying to catch his eyes. “Gavriel, what’s wrong?”

Only a choked growl is given. So Fenrys looks down at the drawings in Gavriel’s hands, and for a moment his breath stops.

Horrifying. Horrifying depictions on fae children being burnt while their parents watch and scream and hold their arms out towards their precious offsprings. It is only worsened by the next image, where it shows the adults being murdered in a multitude of methods.

Movements becoming frantic, Gavriel reaches for the other drawings and quickly collects them into a large pile. Each one, each one depicting some grotesque memory. There are ones of slaves in chains, angry looking figures with raised, red fists and a few of the creations display such horrid acts happening upon Aedion that Gavriel feels bile raise in his throat.

“Shit,” Fenrys whispers, taking in the horrors. “Shit.”

Swallowing the foul taste, Gavriel sits properly and places down the sheets. “It’s his memories. He’s slowly remembering, like Yrene said. He’s been drawing them. I just… I didn’t notice. He showed some of them to me, but I only glanced at them. How- how could I not-“

“Gavriel,” Fenrys squeezes his shoulder, brows bunched in concern. “Gavriel, breath. It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright!” Gavriel roars, standing. “How can it possibly be alright when these are the things my child suffered through? I failed him, Fenrys. I failed in protecting him, the one thing a parent is supposed to try their hardest to do!”

“And you are!” Fenrys grips both of Gavriel’s shoulders. “It’s what you’ve been striding for since you learnt about his existence!”

“Gods,” Gavriel swallows, staring at one drawing. “No wonder he flinches.”

Taking a small step back, fenrys removes his hands. “Gavriel, there’s no right answer,” the authority in his voice causes the Lion to look to him, “and there is no single way to save Aedion from all of this. I know you want to, believe me I know, but these aren’t monsters you can scare away with a roar. The only thing you can do, and I mean the only thing, is to talk to him about this. Talk and listen so that he knows you are willing to stand by him even when he’s remembering all of these awful moments. Let him know you are not disgusted by this, by the nightmares he faces.”

“Right,” Gavriel inhales a shuddering breath, rubbing at his eyes. “Right. I… I need to see him. I’m going to check on him.”

“Alright,” Fenrys says softly, nodding. “If you need anything then just say.”

“Thank you, Fenrys,” Gavriel briefly holds the other male, clapping him on the back. “Really.”

“No need for thanks,” Fenrys flashes a strained grin. “Go and see your son.”

It’s a short walk up the tower to what used to be Aedion’s room. It’s strange for Gavriel to imagine his son, as a child, in such a high-up and isolated room instead of in one closer to the ground. Surely that would have been better for a child than the constant climbing and descending of stairs. But in terms of defence it was a good decision. It would give Aedion, and whoever was up the top of the tower, to find a route of escape before they were flooded with attackers.

He’s quiet, so quiet, when he slowly opens Aedion’s door. He peeks in, and his heart stops.

The bed is empty.

“Aedion?” Gavriel tries to keep his voice level as he opens the door fully. “Aedion?”

And then, above his head, is a muffled thump. Startled, Gavriel looks up. The only thing above Aedion’s room is a small attic space used for storage.

“Aedion?” Gavriel calls again, calm now that he is certain as to where his son is.

Yet no sound comes from above his head. Sighing, Gavriel goes to where the man-hole has unfortunately been left open, pulling himself up with ease. The top part of the tower is dark, illuminated by only a small light in the corner. Gavriel side steps a few of the wooden chests and boxes that have been left to collect dust and webs, instead staring at the corner of the space that Aedion has taken refuge in.

Many of the chalk drawings on the wall are old. Old, and faded, and barely there anymore thanks to times cold sterilisation of the past. They’re mostly stick-figures, crudely structured lines that bare the unsteadiness of a child’s hand. Broken pieces of chalk line the floor, only a few coloured but a majority of it white and crumbled. The wall itself is a mural of people and items, some happy, some devastated and some just the simple drawings of animals that children find themselves fascinated with. One drawing contains two children, one bigger than the other, both their names nearly invisible thanks to how many years have passed. Yet it isn’t difficult to guess who the two children are.

This must be where Aedion went as a child, where he snuck too, when he wished to do and worry about nothing. Where he finally committed the acts of a child, free of the pressure of becoming a warrior to protect his future queen.

And Aedion himself is sitting in the corner, staring t all the drawings with a forlorn look, a lantern sitting by his side. His head rests against the wall as he takes in the images, eyes lidded.

“Hey,” Gavriel quietly approaches, and sits opposite Aedion. “Are you alright?”

Aedion’s eyes flick to him, and then back to the drawings. “I’m an adult now, don’t worry.”

Gavriel blinks. “So soon?”

Never mind that it took him half-an-hour to process what was on the drawings. Never mind that he’s failed to notice how late it actually is, and how slowly he was walking towards the room. Never mind that the candle has melted low.

“Once you left the room something triggered me,” Aedion rubs at his face tiredly. “I don’t know what, but the shock managed to bring most things back. Except from before I fell down the stairs; I don’t remember much about that. Was it during the day or night?”

“Night,” Gavriel keeps his voice soft, analysing his son. “It wasn’t Silvia, it was one of my old generals seeking revenge.”

Aedion nods slowly, seeming to accept the fact with ease.

“Did you draw all of these?” Gavriel carefully circles a drawing of a cat with his fingers, wary not to smudge it.

“Yes,” Aedion sighs, closing his eyes. “When I was younger I would steal chalk and come up here to draw.”

“Why didn’t you just draw with pen and paper?” Gavriel questions. “Ask for supplies?”

“It would have been a waste of time and supplies,” Aedion’s voice leads Gavriel to question whether those words are truly his son’s or simply an echo of past denials.

A guilty pleasure, that’s what this place was. “Did you come up to draw when you were sad?”

Aedion’s jaw clenches. “Will you ever stop asking those kinds of questions?”

“No, Aedion,” Gavriel blinks. “No, I won’t. Do you remember what you drew earlier?”

His son’s look suggests that he does not.

“They were horrific,” Gavriel bites out, straining to keep his voice in line. “Aedion, you need to talk about this. If not me then someone else-“

A growl cuts him off, Aedion baring his teeth. “I’m dealing with it fine.”

“But you’re not,” Gavriel can’t keep the growl out of his own voice. “Gods, Aedion, you’re not!”

“You don’t get to decide that!”

“I’m not deciding it, I’m noticing it!” And they’re both standing, when did they both stand? “Do you realise how much of a shock it was to look at you over this past day and notice that I’ve never seen you smiling for such a long period of time? That you’ve never looked so free? And that was with your memories gone, Aedion. That was with everything you are now stripped away.”

“And what am I now?” Aedion’s eyes take on a familiar, darkened tint.

Gavriel says nothing.

“What am I?”

“It’s killing, Aedion!” Gavriel snaps, the candle-light flickering over them both. “You have no idea how much it is absolutely killing me to see you struggle so much with simply living!”

“I’m fine!” Aedion snarls.

“You’re broken!”

Aedion swallows, leaning back. “I’m not.”

“Aedion,” Gavriel’s voice turns soft and pleading, strained as he shakes his head, “you have to realise that you can’t simply make yourself alright by saying that you are.”

“I am not broken,” Aedion spits the words with venom. “Nothing broke me unless I let it, and I didn’t.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Gavriel’s voice is devastatingly soft.

“Fuck you,” Aedion’s voice matches the volume of Gavriel’s, and it’s all the Lion can do not to reach out for his son as Aedion stalks towards the man-hole and disappears from view.

And the Lion is left with nothing but broken pieces of chalk.

~~~

“Fuck,” Aedion breathes in the cold night air, tipping his head up towards the stars. “What do I do?”

He hasn’t asked his mother questions in years. Not after Rhoe explained to him that by going into the stars people meant she’d gone to the afterworld, and that Aedion could not speak to her there.

But something about the night, about the speckles of white blood above him, makes it seem just a little less pointless.

“What does he want from me?” Aedion frowns at the sky. “What does he expect? I am happy. I’m not broken; I didn’t let anything break me.”

‘It doesn’t work that way.’

Gritting his teeth as the words flash through his mind, Aedion continues his walk in the gardens. It’s so much easier to breath underneath the sky, surrounded by the very greenery that supplies every breath he inhales. It’s always been easier like this, where he doesn’t need to worry about the walls around him caging in his breath to the point his heart is ready to burst from his chest. Where the air is crisp and clean instead of a burning razor dragging through his throat in a sick act of kindness.

It would be so much easier to make a house from stars and live among the world. And that’s what he and Lysandra shall fight for; a place where they and all the wild people may live. Where the stone walls all open to the wilderness and sky.

It’s a sweet dream.

A sweet dream that a broken male can have no part of.

Shaking the thought from his head, Aedion makes his way towards the gurgling fountain. The steady sounds of the water is soothing, running through his mind and clearing it the way a new flood of water does to a dirtied stream. He peers into the water, barely able to make out the small stones thrown into the water as a substitute of coins.

And he just glances at the face that leers over his shoulder before something grabs the back of his neck and plunges his head under.

~~~

“It’s been three hours since Fleetfoot tracked Aedion’s scent to the garden,” Aelin growls, her hand running through the thick coat of the very angel in question.

“He could have gone into the city,” Fenrys suggests, yet even his voice is uneasy.

“Without even coming to me?” Lysandra’s question poses the problem they’ve all been facing.

“He could be anywhere,” Gavriel bites out by the fireplace, his hands gripping his biceps tightly.

“Did anything happen?” Lysandra asks the court in the lounge room. “Anything that could have upset him? Gavriel, you said he regained his memories. Did anything happen after that?”

“I called him broken.”

Everyone turns to look at the Lion, both because of the words and because of how his voice breaks. The ancient fae has his head in his hands, his normally golden skin ashen and gray.

“You called him broken?” Aelin’s voice has reached a dangerous, quiet tone.

Gavriel sucks in a shaking breath. “We… we were talking, about how he’s been functioning, and I just… I called him…”

To his and everyone’s surprise, Lysandra moves forward to place a hand on his arm. “I’m sure that in whatever context you said it to Aedion you did not say it out of cruelty.”

Swallowing, Gavriel shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have said it at all.”

“We’ll find him,” Rowan growls under his breath. “We found tracks leading down into the forest by the slums. It looks like Aedion put up a fight.”

“Let’s go hunt,” Aelin stands.

~~~

“Where’s Gavriel and our general?”

Aedion smirks at the fae man in front of him, never mind the fact that he’s tied to a tree. “You mean the bastard that tried to break my neck down a flight of stairs? You may want to check a witch’s stomach.”

A fist cracks against his jaw, adding to the flourish of bruises. And, yep, that’s not good for his head. Things shouldn’t be blurring so much.

Instead of making a sound Aedion simply spits out the blood flooding his mouth, throwing his captures another rakish grin. The two fae males snarl as they circle him, one already holding a knife in his hand.

As if that scares him.

~~~

“I’m going!”

“Evangeline,” Lysandra winces, “it would really be safer if you stayed here and-“

“I’m going,” Evangeline scowls. “I’ll stay with Gavriel.”

“Gavriel’s already gone,” Vaughan states, nodding to the space where the said male once was.

“Shit,” Rowan stares.

~~~

“You two are idiots.”

The fae males stop in their pacing to glance over at Aedion, who does nothing but sag against the tree with his eyes closed.

“Keep your mouth shut, half-breed,” one of the snarls.

Aedion lip curls up at the slur. “Half-breed? I see. And you know who my mother is?”

“Evalin’s cousin,” one of the males frowns.

“Right,” Aedion cocks his head to the side. “And why would you wish to mess with the male she deemed worthy enough to lay with her?”

The second male scowls. “He couldn’t have been that good of a male to fuck a princess then leave.”

Aedion pauses. The two men pause. Silence stretches between them.

“Fuck. I let myself be captured by two idiots.”

“Excuse me?” One male marches forward, roughly fisting Aedion’s hair in his hand and tugging it to the side. “Why the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

“Two idiots who aren’t smart enough to realise how much trouble they’re in,” Aedion drawls the words, as if bored. “Apparently, you can’t even tell when a lion is standing behind you.”

Both males freeze, and slowly turn their heads.

Gavriel crosses his arms. “Granted, I’m not a lion right now, but I believe my son has given you the general idea.”

“Son?” One of the males croaks.

“Son,” Gavriel eyes Aedion’s bloodied form. “Doesn’t look like you cut him, but judging by the state of his face and body I suppose you must have gained a few punches and kicks. Not enough to kill, but to hopefully gain information. Efficient. Brutal. Good work.”

Both males seem rooted to the spot at the utter malice lacing Gavriel’s voice. Aedion, for his part, just closes his eyes and leans against the tree once more, head too heavy to watch the proceedings.

“Now tell me,” Gavriel takes a step forward, his low baritone a quiet rumble, “what made you think that I would be in a lenient enough mood to forgive someone for harming my son in such a way.”

“We didn’t know,” one of the male gasps, dropping his knife and holding up his hands. “We’ll go quietly.”

“Yes,” Gavriel narrows his eyes. “You will.”

Yet someone with extremely keen eyes could have sworn that disappointed briefly flashed across his face if they had been there to witness it. Granted, Gavriel gives no sign of such regret, simply moving with a cold detachment that leaves both males trembling in their boots as he kicks them both to the ground and firmly ties their hands behind their back.

“Aedion,” Gavriel releases his son’s name as a relieved sigh as he unties to ropes connecting the said male to the tree. “Are you alright?”

He sways on his feet slightly, wincing, but Aedion simply wipes the blood away from his mouth. “I have a headache like you wouldn’t believe.”

Sagging in relief at the attempt of humour, Gavriel braces a hand on his arm. “Come back with me. Aelin will collect these two soon enough.”

Aedion eyes the two males dropped on the ground, rendered entirely immobile by the ropes, their faces in the dirt. “Alright.”

They walk off, Gavriel keeping one hand firmly between Aedion’s shoulder blades lest should he stumble or suddenly lose consciousness. They end up only a few meters away before a spark of an idea enters Aedion’s head.

“Wait, I need to at least kick on of them.”

“You’re bleeding! Do it tomorrow!”

“Fine,” Aedion glares, allowing Gavriel to pull him along. “I didn’t think you could show that much restraint.”

Pursing his lips, Gavriel keeps his gaze straight ahead. “If they had not surrendered then their fate would have been much different. But as it is I cannot simply murder people who have thrown down their weapons and are willing to cease harm.”

“There’s the honour side we all adore,” Aedion sighs as the palace comes into view. “How nervous is everyone?”

“Beside themselves,” Gavriel looks to Aedion. “As I was. What happened?”

“I was in the gardens, and they surprised me from behind,” Aedion growls lowly under his breath. “I was still feeling off so it didn’t take that much effort.”

“I’m sorry I called you broken,” Gavriel’s voice is as soft as it’s ever been, even as his eyes stay firmly ahead of them.

He’s prepared for the silence that follows. Neither of them exchange words, even as they walk through the gardens, coming closer and closer to their final destination. A part of Gavriel screams at him, berates him, for making such a horrendous mistake. He called his son broken; now he will never be allowed in his life. He will never be allowed to take over the role of being Aedion’s father and he’ll never get to watch him and Lysandra marry and never go with them to Caraverre and-

“I think I am broken.”

Gavriel pauses, stopping where he stands. Aedion continues on for another step before also halting, turning to look back at his father. Clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, the Lion goes over the quiet, broken words in his head once more.

“You’re not.”

Scoffing, Aedion looks ready to turn away once again. “So it’s alright for you to call me broken but the moment I do it’s an issue?”

“No, Aedion,” Gavriel swallows, “I was wrong-“

“But you’re not,” Aedion strains the last word, his voice cracking just slightly. “You’re not. Don’t you get it? You’re not supposed to be right about these things but you are. I’m broken and crumbling like the damn chalk because there’s not enough of me left and I’m not going to be enough and-”

Gavriel’s eyes widen as the way Aedion’s breath picks up speed, and he reaches forward to grabs his shoulders. “Aedion, cub, calm down. You’ve had a bad week, a bad night, and above anything else need food and water.”

“But you’re right-“

“Maybe,” Gavriel cuts through, his voice steady and strong. “Maybe in some ways. You are hurt, Aedion. You have been hurt badly and put through trauma I would not wish upon anyone, much less a child forced to fight in a war. But I was wrong when I said you were broken. If you were truly broken then you would not care so much if you were.”

“I-“

“No,” Gavriel shakes his head. “I can see it in your face, Aedion, and no. You are not broken. I have many regrets in my long life, but I can tell you now I have nearly been as ashamed or wrong as when I said that to you. Do you understand that? I am proud that you are my son. The moment Silvia came I announced you were my son. I state it to anyone who will listen because I am proud of it. You are not broken. You are hurt, and attempting to rebuild yourself into something different than you once were, but you are not broken.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Aedion ignores the liquid rolling down his face, slowly composing himself and looking towards the palace once more. “I’m tired.”

The words hold so many implications, so many different meanings. “I know, Aedion. We’re nearly there. You’re nearly home.”

The word ‘home’ seems to create a shudder that rolls through Aedion’s body, his shoulders sagging in relief. Gavriel gently guides him towards one of the back doors accessible by the garden, not at all surprised by the fact that Lysandra is already running towards them. Her green eyes flash as she scents Aedion’s blood, immediately holding herself back from colliding into him as she assesses his injuries. As she assesses the tears.

“Are you alright?” She places one hand over his heart, tone so gentle that Gavriel looks away.

Cupping her hand in his own, Aedion kisses her palm. ‘Tired.”

Those hard emeralds soften. “I know. We already have the healers ready. Gavriel, can you tell Aelin and Fenrys where the… assailants are?”

It’s clear that a much worst word was thought of, and seeing how claws still peek at the edge of her fingers Gavriel bows his head. “Of course. Make sure Aedion gains some rest.”

“Aedion can hear you two,” the demi-fae raises a brow, earning a relieved sigh from Gavriel and an elbow to the ribs from Lysandra.

“We’ll patch you up,” she assesses him, “and assure whoever did this knows the consequences.”

It even causes shivers to run down Gavriel’s spine, those cold words spoken by a wild beast ready to hunt her prey. Still, he stays and watches as Lysandra leads Aedion down the hall, one arm wrapped around his waist as she helps support him. It’s good that Aedion has someone he relies on to be weak around, that he trusts to hold him up.

yet Aedion looks over his shoulder, for a brief moment, something questioning passing over his face.

Yet he simply follows Lysandra, even as he calls back out, “thank you, Father.”

Something in the Lion’s chest stops, pausing before once again continuing its rhythm. The rest of his body and his mind takes a little longer to process the words that have been spoken. Once he understands he covers his face with his hands and draws in a long, ragged breath.

Worth it.

Every piece of hell they’ve fought through has been worth it.

[pitterpatterpot]

Lion’s Pride: Chapter Fourteen

18.

It‘s a thrumming. A beat that pulses through his body as he inhales each breath that flows from the centre of his being to the tips of his fingers gripped around the spear.

It’s the sound of the gravel shifting under his feet as he lays still in wait, watching for the enemy to attack.

It’s also the tingle on the back of his neck as he feels the eyes of the cadre steadily on him.

Watching him.

Assessing him.

The old bastards.

But Ren flies out to his side, Kyllian from the other, and all it takes is two large swiping movements to force their weapons flying out of their hands. Aedion twirls his own spear in his grasp, swiping Ren’s legs out from underneath him and then jabbing Kyllian solidly in the chest with the blunt side.

Enough to make the warrior fall back with a resounding thud. And there’s no need for concern with Ren; not with how Aedion has steadily kept the spears head pointed against his throat.

“Alright,” Kyllian groans, holding up a hand. “Alright. Stop grinning, you smug bastard. I think I’m done for the day.”

“I’m just done,” Ren says from where he lies with his eyes closed.

Aedion shakes his head, grinning as he offers Kyllian a hand. “It’s barely been two hours.”

“No,” Ren groans, sitting up, “it’s been two and a half. And as a lord of this country,” he clampers to his feet, “I have important work to do.”

“Enjoy your work, oh so powerful lord,” Aedion gives a mock bow, smirking at the glare sent his way.

“Leave Ren alone,” Kyllian nudges Aedion as he passes. “I mean, I get it, but maybe not after you’ve just kicked our asses.”

Aedion just smirks, then jolts at the long whistle released behind him.

Right.

Them.

“Nice technique with the spear, boyo,” Fenrys grins, the rest of the remaining cadre members standing with him.

As much as Aedion loves Elide visiting, he wished she didn’t bring her dark and brooding male with her.

“Thank you,” Aedion dips his head in acknowledgment, palming the weapon. “It’s a Terrasen technique.”

Rowan hums from where he stands. “Think you could show us a few Terrasen moves?”

It’s all Aedion can do not to move under the intense gaze of all the males; even Gavriel is waiting for Aedion’s answer. The prince clenches his jaw. He’ll be damned if he bows under those gazes, if he proves himself to be a weak, younger male.

“Of course,” Aedion replies, ironing any tension from his voice with a slick smoothness. “The spears are over there.”

He can feel the attention of every single one of them, even when their back are turned.

Then they all turn to face him.

Lorcan, Vaughan, Fenrys, Gavriel and Rowan.

Five of the deadliest males there are, all pinning their sole focus on Aedion, none of them wavering in the slightest.

“Right,” Aedion plants his feet. “Let’s get started.”

~~~

For the most part, it starts off well.

Even with Lorcan’s glare, Fenrys’ running commentary, Roman’s suspiciously raises eyebrows whenever he speaks and Vaughan’s careful assessment of everything Aedion does.

Gavriel, for the most part, is just being awful by giving clearly supportive smiles and nods. As if Aedion needs encouragement and protection. As if he’s a child.

At least they’ve followed his instructions for the most part.

The most part.

“Boyo, shift your foot to the side.”

“You call that a stance? Straighten your shoulders.”

“I think if we tried a different movement it would flow better.”

“I hate this.”

“Aedion, are you sure that’s the correct hold?”

It gets worse as the hour drags on. And Aedion knows it’s an hour, for he keeps his eyes steadily on the clock.

“Well,” Aedion drops from his stance, “I’ve been training for three and a half hours, and that’s half an hour over my limit, damn it. So I’ll see you all at the dining hall tonight and-“

He freezes at Rowan’s hand on his shoulder.

“Not so fast,” Rowan smiles, challenge sparking in his eyes. “Surely you could make an exception this once?”

Aedion slides his gaze over to Gavriel, who simply waits to hear Aedion’s answer, giving no indication of what is correct and what is not.

“Of course,” Aedion rolls his shoulders, turning to face them all. “How could I refuse?”

Their answering smiles say it all; he can’t.

“Right,” Aedion grumbles, turning away. “Let’s get back to it then.”

Three techniques. He gets through three damn techniques before Rowan, the damn king of all things, decides to stop them to walk up to Aedion and copy the technique once again, only with his own twist.

“See,” Rowan follows the movement through, yet twists his hips and arms to the left at the end. “If you manage to turn to the side while keeping your stance it’ll result in stopping your right from being vulnerable.”

Breathing in a deep breath through his nose, Aedion readies a reply, only to freeze and lock up as Rowan grabs his arm and hip and walks him through the motion. As if he’s a small child learning how to move for the first time. As if Rowan needs to teach him how to place his damn feet like a novice.

He tries not to make it too obvious that he’s retching himself from Rowan’s grip. “Right. Alright. Let’s just get back to it.”

“I think that’s enough for today,” Gavriel suggests, walking up to gently take Aedion’s spear from his hand. “Let’s go get ready for dinner.”

Aedion blinks as they all pass by him, patting him on the shoulder and giving an occasional smile.

~~~

“It was like I was five years old, Lysandra! Five years old! Can you believe that?”

“Uh-huh,” the shifter sorts the pillows on the bed as Aedion paces by the end of it.

“After grounding me I thought this wouldn’t happen again!” Aedion throws his hands up as he paces, gesturing feverishly. “But it has! And not only was it Gavriel, but all of them! All of them!”

“Right,” Lysandra pulls out a book, collapsing back onto all the pillows.

“I mean, Rowan directed me like I was five! Five! I don’t- Lysandra, are you listening?”

She looks up, nodding. “Of course. You have every right to be upset.”

“Thank you! Gods, you’d think those bastards would know to treat me with some damn respect, but no! They just go ahead and treat me as though I’m just some child they’re entertaining! And how dare they comment on the fighting techniques of Terrasen’s oldest warriors?”

The bed bounces as he falls back onto it, groaning with an arm flung over his eyes. Lysandra reaches out and absentmindedly runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m sure they were just trying to get to know you,” she murmurs holding the book with her free hand.

“Right,” Aedion mumbles into his arm. “Getting to know me while treating me like a child and disrespecting this countries ancient fighting styles. And they want to train together again tomorrow!”

Lysandra finally puts the book down, giving a small smile. “Isn’t that something you’ve wanted for a while?”

“Yes,” Aedion sighs, dropping his arm, “but I feel as though they are testing my patience.”

Humming, Lysandra drums her fingers on the covers. “Ever thought that they may be doing just that?”

Realisation sparks in Aedion’s eyes, lighting his face up for the barest of moments before a sly smirk takes over.

Oh, he knows their game. And he will be more patient than he has ever been in his life.

“You’re brilliant.”

“Of course.”

~~~

“Aedion!” Lorcan snaps for the fifteenth time. “Either move your damn foot properly or stop wasting my time!”

It’s hard.

So hard.

Harder than Aedion could have ever predicted. He’d woken up bad, every fibre of his being screaming at him not to get out of bed, thoughts coming unbidden that he had done so well warring against. His very stomach did nothing but sink as soon as he got up, feeling almost as though cement has been poured through his blood.

He did not need today to be one of those days. But he grits his teeth, sparring and being efficiently defeated by nearly every member of the cadre.

So he shakes his head, choosing to focus on his sparring session with Fenrys, even if he does change the position of his left foot. The wolf grins as he does so, Fenrys twirling the staff in his hands as he circles Aedion.

“Guess I’m the last one to beat you into the dust, huh boyo?” Fenrys gives a pleasant little smile. “No, wait, you still got your old man to face, don’t you?”

Indeed, Gavriel stands to the side, arms crossed as he waits to be the last one to face his son.

Growling under his breath, Aedion darts towards Fenrys, having no mood for their usual witty talk.

Of course, all it takes is for the wolf to spin away and kick Aedion’s knees out from under him. Gritting his jaw once more, Aedion can feel everyone’s gazes in him. Especially Gavriel, who watches him closely as Fenrys help him stand.

“Are you alright?” Gavriel murmurs to Aedion as he steps into the ring, leaning in close.

“I’m fine,” Aedion flicks his brows up. “If you mean aside from the fact I’ve had my ass continuously handed to me.”

Gavriel flashes a smile, the original version to Aedion’s own, and prepares himself for the fight. Aedion follows his lead and drops into position, waiting for Rowan to give the signal to start.

The king drops his hand.

Aedion doesn’t even see his father coming for him; one moment he’s standing, and the next he’s thudding on the ground with Gavriel’s weight on top of him, wincing at a shock of pain.

Right. No favouritism in the ring, then. It makes joy spark in Aedion’s chest. Of course is father would do him the honour of not holding back.

Fenrys releases a low whistle as the others mutter, Rowan scowling.

“You were supposed to use the spear,” Rowan glares, “not tackle him to the ground.”

Gavriel shrugs easily from where he kneels over Aedion, then stops, sniffing. Aedion has to hold back a groan. The Wolf of the North had smelt his own blood perpetrate the air just moments ago. Gods know that Gavriel will wish to inspect for injury.

Sure enough, Gavriel slips a hand gently behind Aedion’s head, feeling a small cut among the mass of hair that beads only a few small droplets thanks to the gravel.

“It’s only a little bit of blood,” Gavriel smiles in relief, holding up his barely-stained fingers.

The ground lurches.

~~~

Breath, breath, breath, breath…

“-don’t-“

“-shut up, whelp-“

“-for gods sakes! Someone pin the boy down-!”

No air. No air filling the lungs when there should be.

“-you’re acting like a damn child!”

Please, please, please, please…

“-it’s just a little bit of blood! Stop your crying!“

~~~

“Shit,” Gavriel hisses, backing away from Aedion, his son’s eyes distant as he shakes beneath his father, retching. “Aedion.”

The rest of the cadre hover forward, clearly alarmed at the hectic breathing Aedion releases as he rolls onto his side, emptying his guts as his entire body shakes with barely contained terror.  

“Let him breath!” Rowan snaps, holding out an arm as Fenrys darts forward, pain and concern etched in the wolf’s face.

Gavriel deftly rolls off Aedion, kneeling by his side, hands hovering over him as he continues to retch. Finally, Aedion stops, sagging and panting as he keeps his eyes tightly screwed shut, chest aching. He waits where he lays, highly aware of everyone’s eyes on him along with Gavriel’s warm hand on his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Aedion wipes his mouth, twisting his body to sit upright, leaning back on one hand.

“That,” Lorcan examines him with a critical eye, “was not alright.”

Aedion slowly stands, allowing Gavriel’s hand to remain on his shoulder in comfort. His father continues to give him a long, assessing look, almost as though he can see through Aedion’s flesh.

“Guess today was just one of those bad days,” Gavriel says softly.

Aedion sucks in a shaky breath quickly, swallowing to compose himself as his father’s soft words of understanding bring forth another wave of emotion. He will not shed a tear in front of these fae; not on his life.

“You should have told me,” Gavriel murmurs, still observing Aedion closely for more signs of distress. “You should have told me that today was a bad day.”

Aedion shakes his head, leaning away. “I’m fine.”

Gavriel’s frown clearly expresses what the Lion thinks of that answer.

“I’m fine now,” Aedion amends his sentence, standing solidly, turning to meet everyone’s eyes.

They all look back. Assessing, yet not criticising. More concerned than anything. It almost makes bile rise in Aedion’s throat.

“Let’s leave it at that,” Rowan decides ultimately, twirling his spear as he places it back in the rack. “We can pick up tomorrow.”

“Right,” Aedion mutters against the back of his hand, still trying to wipe away the vile taste.

It’s difficult, really to feel their eyes on him as they leave. To know that they may talk about this later, or at the very least wonder what the hell is wrong with him. Aedion picks up his own spear and any remaining on the ground, going to the rack to sort them together. He can feel Gavriel follow him.

“Do you need to talk?” Gavriel asks softly, the question slow and tentative in his deep baritone.

“I’d rather not,” Aedion focuses on the spears. “Just… I’m just having a bad day.”

He can almost feel Gavriel nod as he allows his head to bow forward, unable to look at the male with his stomach still churning and eyes heavy-lidded. Aedion turns away with the single purpose in mind to stride away, not caring how dismissive or child like it would be, yet is halted by Gavriel folding Aedion into his arms. Aedion draws in a shaky breath against Gavriel’s shoulder, his father’s skin warm underneath the cotton shirt he’s wearing.

“It’s alright to have bad days,” Gavriel says quietly, simply standing there, allowing Aedion to relax in his hold. “But you shouldn’t push yourself to train during them, Aedion.”

“I’m not going to let them win.”

“Life isn’t supposed to be a punishment. You don’t need to force yourself through painful situations.”

A small arrow of fear shoots its way through Aedion as he realises that the cotton of his fathers shirt underneath his eyes has become wet with tears he barely knew were falling. He wrenches himself away, rubbing hard at his eyes as he turns back to the spears, fixing the last one in place.

“I’d rather not talk about this now,” Aedion hates the way his voice grinds, his throat obviously thick.

“Alright,” Gavriel says, his voice heartbreakingly soft.

“I really don’t.”

“I understand.”

Nodding, Aedion breathes in a large breath, attempting to still his lips as he purses them.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” Gavriel suggests.

Aedion nods once more, turning to walk with him back into the castle.

~~~

It’s difficult not to feel the gazes. The concerned looks, the evaluating stares. He can’t ignore the fact that the next day, when they all get ready to train again, every fae male is watching him for some kind of sign that today may not be a day for such an activity.

As if he needs to be monitored, as if he needs to be watched.

“I’m telling you, I’m fine,” Aedion hisses to Gavriel through gritted teeth.

“I know that,” Gavriel says petulantly, focusing on the training ring as Fenrys and Rowan go at it.

“Then why do you keep insisting I wear armour?”

“I never said that.”

“You basically offered me a whole suit.”

“I did not,” Gavriel says, giving the sense that if he was any less of a male he’d be rolling his eyes.

“You did.”

“It was some limb guards, that was it!” Gavriel’s calm facade finally cracks, indignation taking over.

Aedion shakes his head, not giving him the pleasure of an answer. Limb guards. As if he’s a novice, or some breakable, fragile child.

“Alright,” Fenrys pants, walking back with Rowan besides him. “Who’s next?”

Aedion steps forward, and pretends not to notice the concerned glances they all share, even if it’s a challenge to choke back a growl. But then again, snarling his head off at them may be satisfying. Gavriel also steps forward, and Aedion has to subtly suck in a deep breath, rage flourishing once again at the relieved sigh that everyone clearly clearly releases. Obviously it’s assumed that no real harm will come to Aedion during this training session with his father.

It. Pisses. Him. Off.

But they both grab practice swords, the same as usual blades but dulled to the point where death is always hopefully avoided (after all, they don’t need their own soldiers dying thanks to training). They face each other, and Aedion flips the sword in his hand once, twice, as he carefully watches Gavriel.

“Begin,” Rowan nods.

They move forward at the same time, Aedion moving with everything he has to avoid a quick defeat like the day before. To his surprise, Gavriel simply deflects and blocks most of his hits, and Aedion manages to avoid most of his father’s attacks. After a solid minute Aedion changes his style, throwing his entire body into attacking.

Left side open.

Right side open.

Left again.

And yet, Gavriel ignores it all.

“Watch your defence,” Gavriel mentions calmly, brows bunching in concern as he deflects Aedion’s hits. “You’re leaving your sides open.”

Aedion pulls back, and, unable to help himself, snarl viciously in his father’s face. “I know!”

Concern flickers across Gavriel’s expression.

“Should we leave?” Vaughan mutters to Lorcan as they all watch, the other male simply shrugging.

“Do not,” Aedion advances forward once more, “patronise me!”

“Aedion, I am not!”

“Two minutes!” Aedion growls, panting as he regains his breath. “Unless you haven’t noticed, this has gone on for a literal two full minutes! You’ve barely even attacked me at your full speed or anything!”

Gavriel’s jaw tightens, and Aedion takes some satisfaction in the way that his father’s advances suddenly become harder to defend against. Shaking his head, Gavriel continues to focus on blocking and deflecting.

“What if you panic again?”

“I won’t.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“I haven’t panicked in the middle of a battle in years!”

At his last words which were supposed to be a reassurance, Aedion clamps his mouth shut, the fight automatically freezing as everyone stares at him. Something akin to pure horror flashes in Gavriel’s eyes, his father’s tanned complexion losing colour, even the other males giving him wide-eyed looks.

“You panicked,” Gavriel rolls the words over slowly in his mouth, “in the middle of battle, and yet they still let you fight? How old were you?”

“It doesn’t-“

“How old were you?”

Aedion barely resists flinching at the tone. “Fifteen... No one noticed so it wasn’t an issue.”

It’s a shock, when Gavriel outrightly drops the sword to the ground, turns on his heel and storms away, snarling viciously enough that Aedion feels something inside of him cower at the sound, all surrounding fae no doubt feeling the same effect at the scent of pure rage. Silence stretches out between everyone, yet Aedion just swallows thickly and reaches down to pick up Gavriel’s sword, begging internally that the males can’t see how white his knuckles are, or won’t notice how difficult it is to keep the tremble from his hand.

That rage. That rage shouldn’t terrify him as much as it does. But he’s seen it before, and felt it, from so many people. It’s unimaginable that Gavriel would ever be one of them, yet keeping that physical reaction to fear at a minimum is difficult.

“Boyo,” Fenrys’ hand lands on his shoulder. “Boyo, it’s alright. You know he wasn’t mad at you, right, Aedion?”

“I know,” Aedion snorts, placing the two swords away. “Who’s next?”

They all hesitate.

“Who’s. Next?”

Aedion will be damned, if he allows them to think that he can’t handle training with them after a small spat with his father. As if being trained by these males wasn’t his life’s wish from the moment he was a child and was first told of their legends.

Not that he’ll ever tell them that.

One by one, they all go through the motions of training again, even if everything is stiffer than it once was. Aedion ignores it, choosing instead to focus on his movements.

~~~

Aedion doesn’t see Gavriel for the rest of the day or the next. Whenever he questions anyone about it, they simply state that his father’s presence is unknown.

He knows, Aedion knows, that Gavriel wouldn’t disown him. That he wouldn’t run off after deciding that he doesn’t want his bastard child that can’t even fight properly in battle. He knows that he is not that kind of male, that he’s not like Aedion’s relatives in Wendlyn, who were all more than happy to be rid of him. That the Lion, that Gavriel, that his father, would never do that, even if Aedion can’t pin point the exact moment when he became so sure of Gavriel’s truth in his promises.

He knows.

Yet he still fears.

~~~

When Gavriel comes back, it’s in the middle of dinner, everyone in the halls pausing in their chatter as the doors open and the Lion, covered in leaves and less clean than he had been when he left, trudges up to the courts table.

And sits. Next to Lysandra, which is usually Aedion’s seat.

And hauls a plate of food towards himself to eat.

Aelin shares a quick look with Rowan before looking back at the male in question. “Hello, Gavriel.”

He dips his head. “Your Majesty.”

“Are you… I mean…”

“I just needed some air.”

Fenrys sips at his ale, peeking over the rim at Gavriel, everyone looking inclined to do the same as they slowly continue in their eating.

“Where’s Aedion?”

There it is. Lysandra places her fork down, conflict flittering across her face as she debates the proper words to use. Evangeline, however, seems to be outright scowling at Gavriel in a way the girl never has before.

“You scared him,” Evangeline’s voice snaps out at the Lion, her eyes narrowing in a fashion exactly like Lysandra’s does. “Don’t do that to him again. It’s rather unpleasant of a thing to do.”

Everyone seated at the table, including Gavriel, blink at her. After a moment, Aelin mumbles under her breath, and turns away to sip at her wine with amusement in her eyes and a smile on her lips. Lysandra practically beams at her ward.

Slow realisation comes across Gavriel as he looks to the chair where he usually sits, realising for the first time where he is seated. “Where’s Aedion?”

Lysandra slowly raises a brow. “You mean besides going out of his mind on where you went and whether you were going to come back?”

The Lion says nothing, deep sorrow taking in every fibre of his being as the words hit home, his tawny eyes turning sullen as he looks down at his plate.

Sighing, Lysandra jerks a thumb towards the door. “In the gardens, probably with the dogs. He had dinner early.”

Having the information he needs, Gavriel nods to her in thanks, standing and leaving the room. They all watch him go, Fenrys slowly sliding a plate of tarts over to Evangeline as they do.

~~~

Gavriel walks in to a very conflicting scene. On one hand, Aedion is clearly enjoying himself, kneeling with all the new hunting pups and rough housing with them. On the other hand, there’s a clear lack of colour to his skin, and Gavriel can see the tell-tale signs of fatigue.

As soon as he walks into the space Aedion’s eyes flick to him, and there’s clear relief for a moment before he looks back at a small dog tugging a rope in his hand.

“You look like shit,” Aedion comments as he cups the dogs head with his hands and rubs its ears, the others pushing for familiar attention.

Gavriel kneels by his side, lips quirked up at the small, wiggling forms that climb over his lap. “I never agreed with the idea that hunting dogs shouldn’t be coddled.”

“And here I was thinking you’re a cat person,” Aedion quips, tapping a pup on the nose as it nips at him.

Gavriel chuckles at that. For a few minutes they simply enjoy the moment, allowing the pups to be crazed by the attention. After they tire themselves out, one full-out spawned across Aedion’s lap, they resign themselves to speaking.

“I’m sorry,” Gavriel finally says. “I shouldn’t have left like I did.”

“It’s fine,” Aedion shrugs.

Gavriel shakes his head. “I would have gone insane if you did that.”

Aedion snorts in amusement. “Good to know.”

“She’s going to be huge,” Gavriel gestures to the pup on Aedion’s lap.

“She’s part wolf-hound, part-great dane,” Aedion states proudly. “She’ll be giant. She’s only a few weeks old.”

And yet completely takes up all of Aedion’s lap, tail thumping against the ground.

“Right,” Gavriel reaches over to scratch her ear.

“Why did you leave?” Aedion attempts to make the question casual, yet the tension in his voice slips through.

Gavriel sighs. “I didn’t want to concern anyone with my anger.”

“You concerned me by disappearing for two days,” Aedion growls under his breath. “And freaking out after training.”

Breathing in a large breath, Gavriel holds it before slowly releasing it. “You panicked in the middle of battle. It very well could have led to your death.”

“I’m usually good at pulling myself back,” Aedion swallows thickly, focusing on the dogs in his lap. “When… When you went over the wall, I couldn’t move for a moment. I just… I couldn’t move or think. I just couldn’t. Then something pushed me, and I just moved.”

Gavriel shakes his head. “Aedion…”

“I know I shouldn’t step on the field, I shouldn’t lead men if I can’t even control myself,” Aedion grits his teeth. “But there was never a choice. And it only happened once; after the first time I never experienced it again.”

“Can you swear to me that you’re telling the truth?” Gavriel asks softly.

Aedion’s eyes cut to him, alight with anger. “Fine. I swear to you that after that battle when I was fifteen, after I fell to my knees by the end of it, I never experienced that type of panic again while on the field.”

Gavriel swallows down a growl at the image of his son, bloodied and bruised, unable to breath as he falls to his knees. The two days clearly weren’t enough, not when he still feels the urge to hunt down every single Adarlan and Terrasen official he can find. Not when he has to curl his hands into fists to fight the urge for his mountain lion claws to rip through.

Not when the silence it has created is deafening.

“I’m more infuriated by the way you treated me,” Aedion growls out, gaining Gavriel’s attention once more. “It was as if I was a child, or at the very least incapable.”

This time, Gavriel puffs out a breath. “I know, I’m sorry, they wanted to see if they could aggravate you.”

Aedion gives him a bemused look. “I know. I wasn’t talking about them.”

“Ah,” Gavriel scratches the back of his head, eyes flicking away. “I will try to further restrain myself, I promise.”

“Good,” Aedion grumbles, ruffling the puppies eyes once again. “I’m not a child.”

“Technically, you’re my child.”

“Not the point and you know it!”

“I know,” Gavriel nods slowly. “I will try to further control myself, Aedion.”

“Good,” Aedion sighs. “You know, I never would have thought that I gained my anger from you.”

“Oh, you didn’t. The first time I met your mother she punched me.”

“She what?!”