#meja found jack on the street and was like 'fuck all you he's my son now' and kamon took some time to get used to that

[reneesbooks]

febuwhump day 2 -- holding back tears

isha: a Hass term of endearment meaning "my heart" canon status: canon (outtake) pov character: jack words: 1.7k

the raedoran cycle

Jack slips through the stable doors, ducking behind a stack of hay bales when the door into the inn swings open, allowing light and the raucous sound of laughter to spill out into the stables. The inn is still crowded, so Eima will still be at the bar and Kamon will likely be with her, supervising. He’ll start clearing them all out within an hour, so Jack doesn’t have a lot of time. The real trick will be getting into the private quarters at the back of the building without Kamon seeing him.

He climbs out the back window of the stables and up onto its roof, finding the loose windowpane on the second-floor corridor and wedging it open. He slides in silently and pulls the window back into place. There’s another loose window, this one due to a few chips he’d taken out of the sill over the course of several visits—he checks that no one is looking, then climbs out the window and onto the thin overhang over the window directly below. His arms burn when dangles from the overhang, his muscles protesting that it’s been a long time since he’s done this, and it takes him longer than it used to to get the final window open with his foot. He manages not to drop himself into the lake and swings back into the inn, landing gracefully on the wooden floor of the private living quarters for Meja’s family.

The door to the younger children’s room is shut and Jack makes his way carefully around the creaky floorboards, ears perked for any sound. The noises of the inn’s patrons are muted back here. He sees a light under Meja’s door and feels his stomach drop, a part of him wanting to turn and run. But the rest of him desperately needs her comfort right now, so he steps up to the door.

“Kamon?” Meja’s voice calls, and Jack nearly loses his nerve. “Is that you?”

He pushes open the door and she looks up from her seat on the edge of her bed, her hair hanging loose around her face. She’s in her dressing gown, a comb in one hand, and pauses when she sees him standing in the doorway. She blinks, and Jack swallows nervously. “I’ve been told I look like him,” he says, attempting one of his roguish smirks and knowing he’s failing.

Meja just smiles softly, gesturing for him to come sit. He shuts the door quietly, not wanting to wake the sleeping children down the hall, and sits on the bed at her side.

“You look tired,” she says, winding her arms around him in a tight hug. He doesn’t answer, leaning into the hug, and she runs her fingers down his spine. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

He nods, burying his face in her hair. She still smells of spices from whatever she’d cooked for the inn, and the faintest hint of lake water. She squeezes him once and lets go, winding her shawl around her hair with a practiced twist. Jack follows her back down to the empty kitchen and hops up onto the counter to watch as she glides around the cramped space, lighting the fire and chopping ingredients and swiftly sending one of the little ones back upstairs when he comes down looking for the sweets. He still remembers the day she found him, and the little pot of sweet elderflower jam she’d given him to eat. Kamon was always so exasperated when he realized Jack had eaten it all again, and Meja only ever smiled and said that perhaps Jack had a little Hass blood after all. She’d never been fazed by his failings, or his thievery, or the times that he came to her with bloody knuckles and a bloody lip and she had to patch up his injuries before he let Arthur see. And now he’s come home, after disappearing for months and never sending word, and all she wants to do is make him dinner.

He presses his hands to his eyes, sniffing in a pathetic attempt to keep the tears in. He hears the gentle clink of Meja setting down her knife and her fingers wrap around his, peeling his hands away from his face. He keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to see whatever expression is on her face.

“Isha, what’s wrong?” she asks, and she sounds so worried and sad and he hates himself, because he has never deserved having her in his life. Kamon was right that first day—he is a demon in human skin, here to trick her into caring about him only to break her heart. “Are you hurt?”

“Are you not angry with me?” he asks, his voice trembling. Her hands are still wrapped around his, and he feels no reaction to his words. “I...why aren’t you angry with me?”

He can hear the smile in her voice. “Do you wish for me to be angry with you, isha?” She lets go of his hand to pat his cheek. “Bjerkja heard my prayers, and delivered you to my door unharmed. What do I have to be angry about?”

He shakes his head, still refusing to open his eyes. “I disappeared. I never sent word.”

“You know I can’t read,” she laughs, but he only winces. She sighs and switches to Hassa. “My beautiful son, I could never be angry with you. Whatever sins you think you committed, you will forever be innocent in my eyes.” She squeezes his hand and lets go. He opens her eyes to see her return to her cooking, the smell of it filling the room. Jack watches her work, tears stinging the backs of his eyes but never falling, and thinks of the way she used to tuck him into the hay of the stables, wrapped in furs, and sing him a lullaby until he fell asleep. He remembers the day he realized she was hiding him from the city guard, when he woke up to her voice arguing with Kamon’s about the danger he was putting the two of them in, and their family. When he heard the clanking of armor as their voices fell silent, and when Kamon’s voice lied for him, protecting him despite shouting only minutes before that he was demon and a curse.

“You won’t be able to tell me about your adventures on an empty stomach,” Meja teases, pushing a bowl of rice and vegetables topped with fried fish into his hands and breaking him from his melancholy thoughts. “Eat before you wither away before my very eyes!”

He laughs and her eyes crinkle with her smile. He devours the food quickly, having missed the rich spices and flavors of her cooking. Birdie’s stews are fine, but she learned to cook from her father, and he had clearly never met a spice rack. Meja’s cooking is a royal feast, and the bowl is empty quickly. Jack wipes his hands on a rag Meja hands him and leans back, still perched on the counter. “I can see the inn is doing well.”

“I don’t want to talk about the inn,” Meja sighs, pulling him down from the counter. She drags him over to the table tucked in the corner where the family eats and sits him down, examining him more closely in the brighter light under the lanterns. “I want to hear all about your adventures.” Her eyes roam over his face, as if she’s trying to find any differences since she saw him last. “Is Arthur still with you?”

“Yes,” he says, and she smiles widely. “He’s doing well; I’m sure he’ll stop by in the next day or two.”

“Whenever,” Meja says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “What exploits have the two of you been up to? You look wiser.”

Jack smiles, sure that she’s exaggerating. “I met a witch and two dragons,” he says. “I befriended one of the dragons and the witch, and I’m doing a pretty good job convincing the other dragon not to kill me.”

“You’ve always been my little troublemaker,” Meja laughs. “Witches and dragons; next you’ll tell me you’ve slain a sea serpent!”

“Perhaps on my next adventure,” Jack says, pretending to be disappointed. She tugs on his ear affectionately and listens as he tells her about Birdie’s cottage, and Fabin and Emilia, and the magic that Arthur has been learning. She gets up at one point and produces a platter of fried dough dusted in powdered sugar practically from nowhere, the two of them slowly picking away at the sweets while Jack tells her his stories.

“Meja, are you in here?” Kamon calls, and Meja’s eyes soften, her whole frame relaxing just a bit. Jack wonders if he looks like that when Arthur walks into a room. He doesn’t turn to the door, where he knows Kamon is standing and looking at the two of them. He’s not sure he’s ready to face Kamon’s reaction to his return.

“Kamon,” Meja says. “Look who Bjerkja brought back to us.”

Jack’s shoulders tense as Kamon’s footsteps cross the room to him. He gulps and keeps his eyes on the platter of sweets when Kamon pauses right next to him, smelling of lakewater and leather. He can feel his eyes on the side of his head but he isn’t ready, he doesn’t want it to hurt yet.

“Dammit, Jack, look at me,” Kamon says, and Jack snaps his gaze to his face. Kamon grins at him despite the tears sliding down his cheeks. “Fuck, kid, you scared us. I’m so happy you’re safe.”

He leans down to grab Jack in a crushing hug, pulling him halfway out of his seat. Jack blinks, feeling tears well up in his eyes again, and it takes him a second to remember how to hug. He buries his face in Kamon’s shoulder and tries not to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, without realizing the words are spilling from him. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Kamon asks, without letting go of him. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I’m a curse on your family.” Jack gulps in shaking breaths. “I’m a curse.”

“You are our family,” Kamon says, and Meja’s arms wrap around them as well. “The accident of your birth will never change that.”

Jack finally lets himself cry, sinking into their hold.

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