anonymous asked:
on the same vein as half elf Angus, being adopted by Kravitz and Taako, may I request Ango going through his first ( or second) Luume? ( whether or not he’s with Agatha, or even around that age is up to you) Thank you for taking the time to read this!
[AN: Found it! Things be FUBAR’ed so this is the real one. I need to think about this one because I promised my Tumbl into TAZ readers that nothing would be NSFW]
“Sir? I don’t feel so good…”
It was a definite bad sign when Angus referred to Taako as ‘sir’. He hadn’t done that for half a century or more. Definitely when he was mostly-grown and it finally sunk in that he had a place to belong. Taako put down his cooking and washed and dried his hands.
Angus was– what? Seventy? Eighty? He knew being half-elven screwed things up, sometimes. The human side demanded things go quickly, whilst the Elven side wanted to chill.
“Awright, kiddo. Gimmie the symptoms list,” Taako felt his brow. Warm to the point of hot. He was feverish. Flushed cheeks. Dilated pupils… Uh oh.
“I feel real restless,” said Angus. “Like I want something, but it’s not here. Everything is wrong.”
Taako took a deep inhale of Angus’ scent. It had changed up to be abnormally appealing. It triggered Taako’s more intensive needs to care for this child of his. Fortunately, he made the will save to resist his stronger instincts. “Hungry?” Taako guessed.
“Starving.” Angus looked pained and he looked around the kitchen for the undefinable. “I know I just had breakfast, but I want… I want more…”
“Luume,” said Taako. “We knew it was coming.”
“I’m only seventy-five…”
Good thing one of them was keeping track of this business. “Yeah, and it could have come on at fifty, when you were still on the weedy side.” Taako slid across something high-calorie and easy to consume, which Angus fell on. “It’s okay. Papa’s got’cha.”
As Angus wolfed down his second breakfast, Taako found the spots behind his ears, where a particular nerve cluster could be stimulated to tell Angus’ raging instincts, Not Yet.
Angus relaxed so much he could have melted if he didn’t have bones. He leaned against his adopted Papa and began to purr.
Taako purred in response, sending a Fantasy Text to all the people who were expecting him to do shit today. Family emergency. Everything’s cancelled.
After that was done, his son had Taako’s undivided attention.
*
Angus woke in the cuddle cote. Warm, comfortable, and oddly exhausted. Papa was nearby and Angus wasn’t exactly inclined to let him go, just yet.
“Well done,” said Papa. “That’s a twenty-four hour pain in the ass over and done with for probably a decade. Good to know the humanman side of things eased it up for ya.”
Papa had forty-eight hours of instinctual overdrive followed by lazy lull. Angus had heard of Elves who suffered, and made the world around them suffer, for a full three days. Papa had the extra un-bonus of an unpredictable, erratic cycle that hit like a truck.
Angus tried to remember what he’d done. He rolled a one. “What’d I do?”
“Oh, you had an easy time, baby. It’s cool. I got to your ‘off switch’ so you slept through most of it. You had some good food, I watched a lot of Fantasy Netflix. What’s not to love?”
“Mmmh,” Angus wasn’t inclined to move. “Feel like I’ve been running a marathon.”
“Yeah, that’s what it does.” Taako offered him a straw attached to an enormous bottle of gator-aid. “Drink this shit. It really helps.”
It did. Angus could feel his brain revving back up to its full potential once more. “I have a whole decade before I go through this again, right? It’d be legal for me to… youknow… with someone.”
“Anywhere between five and ten years. The human side fucks a lot of shit up with your genes, baby boy.” Taako ruffled his hair. “And if you can’t say it, you definitely ain’t ready.”
A different kind of flush invaded Angus’ face. “…probably,” he allowed. “Did I go all… Cave-Elf? Like you do?”
“You had more vocab than me f'r sure. I had Lup cook up a bunch of those condition-adding muffins I used to feed you when you were tiny. You want?”
He was suddenly craving them, now. “That’d be lovely. Warm and with butter and cream?”
“And a steak for after.” Taako wriggled free. “You stay down. Your family’s got’cher back.”
“Good…” Angus yawned. It felt like a good nights’ sleep and some fortified meals were the best thing for him. “Good Papa…”
[AN: Found it! Things be FUBAR’ed so this is the real one. I need to think about this one because I promised my Tumbl into TAZ readers that nothing would be NSFW]
“Sir? I don’t feel so good…”
It was a definite bad sign when Angus referred to Taako as ‘sir’. He hadn’t done that for half a century or more. Definitely when he was mostly-grown and it finally sunk in that he had a place to belong. Taako put down his cooking and washed and dried his hands.
Angus was– what? Seventy? Eighty? He knew being half-elven screwed things up, sometimes. The human side demanded things go quickly, whilst the Elven side wanted to chill.
“Awright, kiddo. Gimmie the symptoms list,” Taako felt his brow. Warm to the point of hot. He was feverish. Flushed cheeks. Dilated pupils… Uh oh.
“I feel real restless,” said Angus. “Like I want something, but it’s not here. Everything is wrong.”
Taako took a deep inhale of Angus’ scent. It had changed up to be abnormally appealing. It triggered Taako’s more intensive needs to care for this child of his. Fortunately, he made the will save to resist his stronger instincts. “Hungry?” Taako guessed.
“Starving.” Angus looked pained and he looked around the kitchen for the undefinable. “I know I just had breakfast, but I want… I want more…”
“Luume,” said Taako. “We knew it was coming.”
“I’m only seventy-five…”
Good thing one of them was keeping track of this business. “Yeah, and it could have come on at fifty, when you were still on the weedy side.” Taako slid across something high-calorie and easy to consume, which Angus fell on. “It’s okay. Papa’s got’cha.”
As Angus wolfed down his second breakfast, Taako found the spots behind his ears, where a particular nerve cluster could be stimulated to tell Angus’ raging instincts, Not Yet.
Angus relaxed so much he could have melted if he didn’t have bones. He leaned against his adopted Papa and began to purr.
Taako purred in response, sending a Fantasy Text to all the people who were expecting him to do shit today. Family emergency. Everything’s cancelled.
After that was done, his son had Taako’s undivided attention.
*
Angus woke in the cuddle cote. Warm, comfortable, and oddly exhausted. Papa was nearby and Angus wasn’t exactly inclined to let him go, just yet.
“Well done,” said Papa. “That’s a twenty-four hour pain in the ass over and done with for probably a decade. Good to know the humanman side of things eased it up for ya.”
Papa had forty-eight hours of instinctual overdrive followed by lazy lull. Angus had heard of Elves who suffered, and made the world around them suffer, for a full three days. Papa had the extra un-bonus of an unpredictable, erratic cycle that hit like a truck.
Angus tried to remember what he’d done. He rolled a one. “What’d I do?”
“Oh, you had an easy time, baby. It’s cool. I got to your ‘off switch’ so you slept through most of it. You had some good food, I watched a lot of Fantasy Netflix. What’s not to love?”
“Mmmh,” Angus wasn’t inclined to move. “Feel like I’ve been running a marathon.”
“Yeah, that’s what it does.” Taako offered him a straw attached to an enormous bottle of gator-aid. “Drink this shit. It really helps.”
It did. Angus could feel his brain revving back up to its full potential once more. “I have a whole decade before I go through this again, right? It’d be legal for me to… youknow… with someone.”
“Anywhere between five and ten years. The human side fucks a lot of shit up with your genes, baby boy.” Taako ruffled his hair. “And if you can’t say it, you definitely ain’t ready.”
A different kind of flush invaded Angus’ face. “…probably,” he allowed. “Did I go all… Cave-Elf? Like you do?”
“You had more vocab than me f'r sure. I had Lup cook up a bunch of those condition-adding muffins I used to feed you when you were tiny. You want?”
He was suddenly craving them, now. “That’d be lovely. Warm and with butter and cream?”
“And a steak for after.” Taako wriggled free. “You stay down. Your family’s got’cher back.”
“Good…” Angus yawned. It felt like a good nights’ sleep and some fortified meals were the best thing for him. “Good Papa…”
“Listen,” Taako had explained. “It’s the last place they’d look because it’s the first place anyone would look. I got my wards refreshed and nobody is entering the grounds without prior permission. Hell, even the delivery guy knows to use the mailbox of translocation.”
It was with that moment that Agatha knew that all her other objections would be trampled over in the same rough-shod manner. The Treehouse, as the extended family called it, was Taako’s country retreat. He paid some locals to look after the place when he was off doing other things and, as near as Agatha could tell, it was still a fixer-upper.
Lightning had hit the upper branches at some point and shapers were still coming by to train the wild limbs into something like the tree’s original state. Just as others were re-training the wilderness of the estate grounds into the farm it used to be. All things considered, re-taming the riding deer was easy-going.
So far, only the three lowest levels had been modernised. The whole place was a work in progress. Labyrinthine, too, with hundreds of ways to escape and confusing passageways that took years to memorise. In other words, typical Elven architecture when the entire species was used to Elfism cropping up every three hundred years or so.
Taako’s cats took to it like ducklings to water, vanishing into the Elven Air Vents and hunting down vermin like they’d been born there. Agatha, on the other hand, had her doubts. Especially now that Taako was threading a grass bracelet with a wooden bead onto her wrist. The bead was Hazelwood, a common arcane channeling material, and a sigil had been inscribed onto the plain tan bead.
“What the fuck is this?”
“This is sort of adopting you into the family,” said Taako. “New children to the house get these. The wards won’t attack you, and if you’re scared, the willow lights will lead you to a place of comfort and security.”
“Willow. Lights.” Agatha repeated. “I’m sorry, Taako, but I’ve never heard of willow lights.”
“Think of your Uncle Fuckup for five seconds.”
His actual name was Phandro, and he was a powerful enough crime lord to strike at Agatha from within prison. Which was why she was in hiding in the first place. As her heart rate accelerated, a small, friendly-shaped form faded into existence. Beckoning her towards one of the many nooks in this house.
“How do you think the legends of will o’ the wisps got started? You better follow it before it sounds an alarm to your in loco parental.”
Agatha followed it to a comfy nook that lit up as she entered. Cosy pillows and comfort food and a little commode space and, once Taako showed her, the knowledge that there was a secret way out. She relaxed and the willow light winked out.
Taako was grinning. “We’re still restoring most of the old place, so the higher you go, the more likely it is you’ll find guarderobes and cobwebs and expired runes.”
“Why are they called ‘willow lights’?” Agatha asked, grasping for the straws of distraction. “This tree’s a Mountain Ygdrasi.”
“You already know the answer, you just want a conversation to keep your mind off things,” said Taako, seeing right through her. “Don’t worry about it. Our husbands are on the case and half the family is backup. We won’t even have to worry about where you can squeeze through.”
Because she was also five months pregnant with her first kid. Taako kept insisting it was twins despite ample evidence to the contrary. A family goof. “Yeah. A long, boring conversation about Elven history is just what I need to go to sleep right now.”
Taako summoned an Invisible Servant to bring a proper meal for her (all the healthy things, of course) and started regaling her about the long, proud history of Elven kind. Starting with how the first tribe-houses were willows, owing to their proximity to clean water.
Agatha was out like a light before she was quite done with dessert.
A sudden siren woke her. It was dark and the only light came from the runes. Mismatched eyes glowing in the gloom were open in panic. “Down the hatch, Aggie. They’re here.”
Agatha didn’t waste time arguing. She pressed the little hidden trigger that opened the hidden hatch. This particular passage was made for elderly Elves and thus made to accomodate a lowered dexterity score. She was grateful for that, and the beckoning figure that lead her through twisting passages.
She could hear random sounds. Voices of her family. Spells firing off. Agatha crawled faster through the twisting tunnels. Finally emerging in a cobweb-ridden cavern that had its own ululating howl. The only light was from the willow light and her bracelet. Carved figures in the walls scowled at her and unseen beasts skittered in the darkness.
“Intruder!” A ghostly Elf manifested out of a statue. “Intruder!”
Behind them was Uncle Phandro. He had a crossbow. Agatha tensed…
A loud rumble shook the entire place. An impossible rumble, because it was Taako purring and gently shaking her. “Hey. Hey, Aggie. Hey. Hey. You’re okay. It’s okay. It’s just a dream. Come on back.”
There was a willow light jiggling up and down above her. Saying something in Elven that could have parsed for ‘intruder’ in Common. It faded out as she came back to reality. The runes glowed around her, and Taako turned up the fairy lights that gave the midnight darkness more shape.
“You with me now, Aggie? Know where you are?”
“I’m in the safe cote. I’m safe with you. That… that was a nightmare.” She couldn’t let go of Taako, just yet. Her fingers dug into his hair and clothing and flesh alike. She couldn’t stop shaking. She couldn’t stop crying.
Taako rubbed her back as he purred. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s just a dream. You’re safe. Krav and Agnes are safe. Maggie and Merlot and Lup and Barold are out hunting them all down. It’s good. It’s good.” He disengaged one of her hands and guided it to a soft shape in the darkness. Neopolitan, the cuddle slut cat. She, too, started purring up a storm as Agatha flexed her fingers in the cat’s fur.
Neapolitan started kneading Agatha’s thigh, and little is realer than a cat making biscuits in squishy portions of one’s anatomy.
Taako held her long past the point where she stopped shaking, stopped crying, and stopped breathing so raggedly.
“I think I’m awake for a few more hours, yet,” she sighed. Think you’ll let me in your kitchen for eggs the safe way and some steak?”
“And some non-caffeinated tea,” added Taako. “Hot tea always helps you chill.”
The lights came up to pre-dawn levels of imitation twilight. It was fuck-off in the morning and the cats had the run of the house. The hearth made for cauldrons had been replaced with a Fantasy Aga that ran off the methane from the root system septic tank that also fed the tree. Nothing was wasted.
A cat or two had to be ousted so Taako could begin putting on the kettle and heating up a frypan. The warmth, the cats, and the gentle sounds of another being helped ground her. That, and the sensations of a McDonald-to-be kicking the living spit out of her liver.
Taako lit a few more lamps and warm light began to colour in an ancient kitchen. Generations of Elves had once cooked here. There was even a nook by the chimney for babies and sickly children to be near their parentals as they busied themselves with food. One of the near-feral cats had taken it over for her kittens.
Taako pressed a warm muffin into her hands while he prepared everything else. This was his way of showing love. Food, nicknames, and physical closeness. Agatha soaked them all up and returned his casual caresses with some of her own.
Just like the feral cats that lived here before Taako moved in, she too was being tamed. She, too, was getting used to a parental figure who was gentle and caring and, though a little broken in his own way, actively trying to be better every day.
“I’ve decided,” she said as Taako clattered about with eggs and kettles and frypans and teapots. “I’m going to try and be like you and Kravitz. You guys are way better parents than mine ever were.”
Taako “got something in his eye” for twenty whole minutes after that announcement. “Silly meldanel,” he said. “Makin’ me get stuff in my eye.”
Agatha decided not to tell him that she knew what that meant. He wasn’t ready, yet. All the same, it felt nice to be part of a better family.
[AN: Meldanel - “beloved daughter”, thanks to elfdict.com]
‘Cause I Want to See it Happen
It had been a long, exhausting, and stressful day already, and now she was late. She was late for her meeting with a person who had so little time and now she was wasting those precious seconds by being late and she couldn’t run anymore because she’d spent pretty much most of the day desperately running and now her legs just wouldn’t carry her anywhere fast any more and she swore her lungs were on fire and she was late and everyone who knew about her presence in Sylvain knew it.
They did not hesitate to tell her about it either. She didn’t even have the time to tell them she knew.
Aubrey entered Janelle’s office, out of breath. Trembling. Spots dancing in her vision.
“You are late.”
“I… know…” she panted. Sweat was pouring off her. “Y’re time’s precious…” gasp, gulp, move shakily towards the mandatory rug. “Tried t’ get…” gasp, wobble, “…here sooner…”
“I’ve already started on another book,” said Janelle. “You may sit on your spot and catch your breath.”
“‘Kay.” Aubrey almost collapsed onto the rug. “…thanks.” It took her five breaths before the ghost of a sob joined her ragged breaths. Everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong and it felt like it was all her fault and she’d hurt people again and she just felt so full of guilt that she wanted to burst.
Focus on now, she told herself. Focus on now. Now is lesson time. Now is calm time. Now is pretending that my life is not a disaster time. Now is focus time.
Aubrey forced herself up into a proper meditative position and really worked on focussing her breathing and achieving calm. A task that was always helped by the fidget ring on her left index finger. It sated her need to twiddle and pick and the subtle clicking of its tiny gears was always a soothing white noise. She could work it with her thumbnail while the rest of her body was still and her mind could begin to calm.
It was starting to work. She could feel it.
“Oh,” said the Interpreter. “I was unaware you were–” FANTASTIC. IT’S BACK. I HAD HOPED IT HAD DIED, BUT IT’S STILL HERE. THOUGHTLESSLY TAKING. IS IT PLAYING WITH SOMETHING WHEN IT SHOULD BE FOCUSSING?
Aubrey couldn’t keep the grimace off her face. I am a calm river and my troubles float away with the flow…
“My student needs some time to center herself. Is there something you need?”
“Yes, I was wondering if you had the latest perimeter report after–” LOOK AT IT, SWEATING LIKE A HOG AND COVERED IN FILTH. IT CAN’T EVEN PRESENT ITSELF PROPERLY. I DOUBT IT RESPECTS A SINGLE THING WE’RE DOING FOR IT.
Aubrey’s breath shook. I am a calm river. I am a calm river. My troubles are leaves on the surface. I am a calm river…
“One moment, Interpreter. I think I recall where I left it,” Janelle shuffled through the piles of books and paperwork in her office space.
I am a calm river… All my troubles float away like– DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO BEHAVE EVEN NOW. I’D HAVE THOUGHT IT WOULD HAVE LEARNED SOMETHING USEFUL BY NOW SO IT CAN BE GONE AT LAST.
Tears came, and Aubrey’s inner dam broke. “I’m trying my best, okay? I only just got here from like the second-worst night of my life and I know better than to waste Janelle’s time, but I just couldn’t run anymore and I can’t make it go away and I gotta learn how to control it and I don’t even know where to start and I nearly killed Mama and I nearly killed Ned and I nearly killed Jake and I never wanted to and I missed the bom-bom at the worst moment and if I didn’t have A-D-H-D I’d probably be better at all of this and I wouldn’t be wasting anyone’s time and I wanna make it go away but I can’t make it go away and I don’t wanna screw up anymore….” she was sobbing in earnest now. Her world was a blur from all the tears, and her hands bunched up in her hair and she had to force herself not to pull at it. “I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry my stupid ancestors stole from your world, I’m sorry I can’t hear your mouth words over your other voice, I’m sorry I don’t know which one of you is royalty and I’m sorry I don’t know how I should be behaving, I’m sorry I touched your crystal, I’m sorry I hurt people, I’m sorry I can’t control anything, I’m sorry I’m so stupid and I’d give literally anything… anything… to make it better!” At the last word, she let go of her hair and slammed her hands onto the floor.
It felt worse than when she’d touched the crystal.
It felt like everything she had was pouring out of her in one big flood. Blood. Sweat. Tears. Soul. All of it.
Something struck her in the chest and she was cut off from whatever had split her open like that and she was falling.
The light was fading and she was falling.
Someone was calling her name and she was falling.
Drifting.
Settling like a down feather into the soft, warm enclosure of a bed. Feeling the blankets fall gently on top of her like a drifting snowflake. Becoming aware of a warm hand on her brow.
“She’s coming back up.”
CAN YOU HEAR THIS?
Aubrey mumbled, “Yeah, there’s no need t’ shout. I c’n hear you.”
I AM NOT SPEAKING WITH MY ‘MOUTH WORDS’, AUBREY LITTLE.
Aubrey cracked open an eye. She felt worse than dog shit. Drained and tired and bone-weary and more than a little sick and definitely wrung out. “What?”
The Interpreter was sitting in her field of view. Mouth definitely closed. YOU TOUCHED THE CRYSTAL, BUT YOU DID NOT TAKE FROM IT. YOU GAVE IT SOME OF YOUR LIFE FORCE, AND IN RETURN, IT HAS MARKED YOU.
Aubrey reached up. Her sunglasses were no longer on her face. Oh shit… “…’m sorry. I know I’m not allowed…”
TODAY, YOU GAVE SOME OF YOUR LIFE FORCE TO SYLVAIN. TREES LONG THOUGHT DEAD HAVE RETURNED TO LIFE. FLOWERS BLOOM WHERE ONCE THE SOIL WAS BARREN. OUR BORDERS HAVE EXPANDED. YOU, AUBREY LITTLE, HAVE PUSHED BACK THE DARKNESS.
She could not, currently, fit herself and the concept of helping do good for someone into the same conceptual space. “You mean… I didn’t screw up?”
The Interpreter said with her mouth words, “You’ve made this entire situation far more interesting.”
[AN: I honestly have no clue where this could go or whatever, so… free fragment?]
Just wondering
Is anyone else timing how long it takes for Aubrey to snap and respond to the thoughts of the Interpreter?
Everyone agreed that Agnes had to be the smartest baby in the world. She wasn’t even crawling when she made the connection between sounds and meaning. What she was currently having difficulty with was saying words that other people used. She stubbornly refused to speak anything but her own, personal language, and kept changing her mind about the grammar and lexicon.
Taako, babysitting because both her parents were off on one of their adventures, took her gibberish seriously. Carrying on a conversation using the tone of Agnes’ voice as a guide. He was also gently attempting to get her to say a real word or two.
“Aba ja wawi neh ninananana,” said Agnes. Complaining because she couldn’t climb the couch.
One of the cats was glaring at her, calculating when would be the best time to saunter away from her statistically sticky grasp.
“That is a steep couch,” Taako agreed, “and a very fluffy kitty. You and I both know that kitties don’t like it when you’ve been sucking on your fingers.” He added the suggestion, “You could climb on Uncle Kravitz,” who had, incidentally, read her Goodnight Moons so many times that he fell asleep.
“Eeeehhhhh…” Agnes whined.
“Yeah, that kitty’s gonna walk away from you and we know it, Aglet.”
The air tore, and Lup re-entered the mortal plane, swearing in Elvish. Her Reaper robes evaporated, and so did the red robes stuck to her lichy form, which she used to terrify the marks. “CUNTS,” was her final epithet before she dove into the pantry and the fantasy refrigerator for ingredients.
She started slamming things around and using all the possible Elven curses and repeating more than a few as she vented.
“Bad day at the office?” Taako asked. “And remember there are children present.”
Lup stopped throwing things around for a minute so she could peek over the back of the couch at Agnes and coo. “Heya pun’kin? How’s my favourite grand-niece? Is you bein’ a good humanman?”
Agnes giggled and jiggled and managed a two millimetre jump that caused the cat to decide that it was too close to Agnes. The cat yawned, stretched, and sauntered up to a higher position on the couch.
“Yeah, you’re havin’ fun now that Aunty Lup’s around.” She switched to Elvish. “These fucking cunts, Koko. The entire job was a moist, dark hole and loaded with syphilis. Absolute cunts. Diseased, stupid, spavined cunts. And they were the fucking worst to take down. Cunts!”
And that was the moment that Agnes decided to echo the most frequent word. “Ekee.”
There was a moment of tense silence.
Agnes jiggled and giggled. “Ekee! Ekee, ekee, ekee, ekee!”
“Great,” Taako singsonged. “The first word that actually sticks is a curse.”
“EKEE!”
“Agnes’ fault for leaving her with us two potty-mouthed nerds.”
“Ekee, ekee… ekee, ekee, ekee…”
“He’s still gonna blame us.”
“What do we do, bro?”
“Conk her out, lie like a rug, and pretend we had nothing to do with this?”
Lup leveled a glare at him. “You are talking about attempting to lie to the world’s greatest detective and the world’s best investigative reporter.”
“I get it. Dumb idea.”
“There’s still the hope that she’ll get bored and pick a new word.”
Lup brightened. “We… could… try to train her?”
Taako also brightened. “Let’s whip up a bunch of Aglet treats and give it a whirl.”
When Angus and Agatha returned to Casa de Taako, they found an interesting scene. One sticky daughter, jam and honey on her face, bracketed by the twins of song and story, each with a basket of gooey treats.
“Ma. Ma,” cooed Taako. “You say ‘ma-ma’.”
“Da da da da da da,” Lup enthused. “Da da da da.”
Angus looked to his wife, who looked back in a way that said, We both know something is up, and that something stinks. Aloud, he said, “Who did what, sir?”
Agnes let the cat out of the bag by saying her first word. “Ekee!’
The twins stood ramrod straight in instants and both pointed the finger of blame at each other.
“This really was inevitable, wasn’t it?” sighed Agatha.
[AN: thanks to this handy link: https://sa.obsidianportal.com/adventure-log/elven-curse-words for the lexicon]
Angus knew that look. That was the tired, cranky expression of someone who’d been working on one problem for way too long and had found way too many dead ends. He knew it well, having stayed up late through many nights, gnawing away at his own unsolvable mysteries. Taako had taught him the most valuable lesson of his life on one of those nights.
Now it was his turn to teach it to Agatha. Though he was allowed to do more groping since Agatha was his lovely wife.
His lovely, tired, cranky, irritated wife.
He leaned on her from behind, resting his chin on top of her head and draping his arms heavily over her own, thus impeding her movement.
“Babe,” she sighed, “Fuck off?”
“It’s half-past ten at night,” he said. “Sleep is more important than this, right now.”
“Fuck off, you’re heavy.”
Well. He didn’t want to hurt his beloved. Strategy B it was, then. Leaning on her wasn’t working. Angus fucked off, but only temporarily.
He prepared some nibbles. Taako’s patented stun-’em-at-forty-yards, better-than-a-sleep-spell hot chocolate, and those apple pancakes that were guaranteed to make anyone who could resist the hot chocolate very blinky indeed. He plated the pancakes up with clotted cream and some of her favourite compote.
Angus smiled as he waved the prepared tray under her nose. “Some refreshments, my love?”
Glare. She had bags under those beautiful dark eyes. “I know what you’re trying to do. No.”
He employed the Puppy Eyes. “Not even a liddle taste?”
The barest ghost of a smile crept through her overall grumpiness. “You’re trying to feed me Faerun’s next best thing to a plus ten sleep potion. No. You go eat it.”
Curses. Foiled again. He popped it up on a convenient shelf and plonked a preservation cover over it. “Fine. Seduction it is.”
“Angus…” she protested. Agatha wasn’t very enthusiastic about fending him off. She giggled as he kissed his way up her arm to nuzzle and nip at her neck. “Stop it…”
He stopped. “Come to bed? This will be better solved with rested eyes.”
“But I need to get this done…”
“By tomorrow?”
She bit her lip. “No. The story deadline’s next week, but…” she gestured at the evidentiary documents strewn over her thinking place. “This is clearly not enough to nail that slippery bastard to the wall.”
He slid his fingertips up through her hairline and began a slow massage. “We’ll work on this together, tomorrow. Don’t tax your reserves here and now, okay?”
Agatha murmured a note of pleasure and leaned back in her chair. “Mmmmmmhhmmmmmm… fine. I’ll eat your damn sleep potion pancakes and get some Z’s…”
He escorted her away from her work and made sure she did that. Chatted about silly nonsense until she was almost done and almost asleep on her butt. After that, it was a simple trip to their shared bed and into their nightclothes to hold her down until her brain finally caught up with the idea that sleep was the good thing, now.
Not that she protested that part. She’d done her fair share of holding him down until his brain finally engaged sleep mode. Fair was, after all, fair.
He woke to her jolting upright and yelling, “TAXES!” in the dawn’s early light.
Angus knew better than to get in her way as Agatha charged downstairs, shuffled through her papers, and then charged off to the privy because it was the early morning and certain things were necessary. He just prepared coffee and her best brain-food breakfast.
She took her bacon crunchy and dipped it into her coddled eggs as she worked on finding and collating all the tax information with her other hand. Things were going well, judging by the way she was saying, “Yes,” at ever-increasing enthusiasm and volume.
Agatha kissed him enthusiastically when she was halfway through her coffee. “We. Are. Geniuses. I love you.”
He just chuckled and said, “Love you too, babe.”
[AN: Why not both?]
“I’m too young to be the father of the groom,” Taako pouted.
Angus rolled his eyes. “Sir, if we waited until you were old enough, we’d both die of old age.”
“Nope,” protested Taako. “Don’t even wanna think about that part.”
Agatha broke the deadlock with, “Will you be my Honour Guardian?”
It was an old tradition that hardly anyone did any more. To choose someone to be their Honour Guardian meant that they were a closely treasured friend who could take the place of family. Someone they could rely on -according to the tradition- to keep the prospective bride or groom’s honour and safety intact.
In the bad old days, they were there to protect the bride from over-amorous grooms… or best men.
Taako was shocked and awed. The cat he’d been petting in an impersonation of the Fantasy Godfather mewled in protest at his sudden grip on his fur. Taako quickly petted that fur smooth by way of apology. “You… I haven’t… I’ve given you nothing but shit since day one. Why?”
“I know you think I’m taking your baby away from you, sir,” said Agatha. “I want it known to the Gods and everyone that I’m coming into your family, not breaking away from it.”
Taako blinked. “Well, naturally. Who doesn’t want into the Taako brand?” He was covering up. That blink said everything. That blink told Agatha that she had won a prize.
“Of course,” smiled Agatha. “I couldn’t be luckier to join your family.”
Taako entered negotiation mode. “Of course I’m catering. And co-ordinating. The two of you nerds have never touched a colour wheel in your life. You probably think red and green together are festive.”
Agatha knew better than to bring up Candlenights objection. “Catering and wedding planning? Are you sure this won’t stress you out?”
Ooh. Low blow. Kravitz and Angus winced together.
“Honey,” said Taako. “I’m one of the Seven fucking Birds. I fought the literal embodiment of nihilism. A simple family wedding is going to be cake.”
Hook, line, and sinker, thought Agatha. “I’ll help in any way I can,” she said.
She had never been the world’s wealthiest reporter, bearing the brunt of the lawsuits that resulted from her exposing the truth of several shady but elite characters. She had lived her life on the edges. But now… now all her snobby quote-unquote friends got to stew in their own bile.
She held her head high and shone like a diamond, blatantly ignoring all her fellow alumni from St Favisham’s School For Young Ladies as she sailed down the aisle in a confection of a dress that was still somehow simple elegance that cost far, far less than it looked like it cost.
And between her and her audience, taking the role of Honour Guardian seriously, was Taako. One hand on her elbow, and the other wrapped tight around the handle of his famous Umbrastaff. Daring any single one of them to say something vicious.
Kravitz was Angus’ Honour Guard, with his scythe in his free hand, he was definitely not a figure to contend with. Not that anyone was going to snark in Angus’ direction.
When her hands met with Angus’, Taako mumbled something and her dress burst into flowers, joined with Angus’ suit in tasteful bursts of blossoms.
“Should I blame him or should I thank him?” she whispered.
“Just be smug,” he whispered back. “Today is allegedly about you.”
With this man joining with her? Hell yeah, she could be smug. Just… one little correction. “It’s about us, you silly man.”
*
Awareness crept up on him like a thief in the night. Warm. Skin against bare skin. The scent of Sweet Nectar overlaying the dizzying scent of a fellow human being. A very attractive human being.
Her soft curls tickled his face and her skin, he knew, was very pleasant to kiss and caress.
It was later than he was used to sleeping, and Angus revelled in it. Soaked in the sensations of being next to his love without any kind of obstacle because they were married.
Mr and Mrs McDonald. She hadn’t liked being a Tremaine, and much preferred to distance herself from the lingering vestiges of that family. Pirates and thieves, all of them, but the kind who did their piracy and thieving within the letter of the law.
Angus loved that she began her career by exposing her immediate family’s crimes. He loved that she was witty and intelligent and so very, very capable against the combined forces of evil.
And he loved that he could prove it in a multitude of ways. Starting by kissing her awake and watching her yawn and stretch in his arms. She soon had him grappled in a similar manner.
“Good morning, Mr Tremaine,” she joked.
“Good morning, Mrs McDonald,” he cooed. “Shall I make you some breakfast? Or would you prefer to lie in?”
She giggled. “Knowing your lot, they’re ready to throw you some kind of congratulation party, just outside the door. Better put some clothes on, hm?”
They kissed. “The party can wait half an hour.”
“My stomach can’t,” she said, and it growled like a savage beast.
His echoed hers. “Fine. Pants, then breakfast, then canoodling.”
She shuffled into a long shirt. Long enough to reach her knees. “I’ll burn the bacon, you coddle the scrambled eggs.”
He grinned. “And then Taako will scream at us and cook us a real breakfast. A perfect plan.”
There was a muffled shout from outside the door, “Except you two goofs gave it away…”
The laughter was infectious. That’s what made it the best morning.
[AN: I’m still a highly distractible goofus. Sorry]
It wasn’t the first time they worked together. The two of them honed their teamwork on lesser, more fallible Bureau impersonators whilst they gathered data on the biggest and best network.
These people were eliminating threats to their organisation by picking off the kind of people who the Bureau would -well- head-hunt. The best, the brightest, the intelligent and the inspired. They had some way of creating bracers with the Bureau emblem on them that was nearly indistinguishable from the real deal.
Which meant, to Angus’ mind, that they had someone on the inside. Rather than start a round of Who Do You Trust within the Bureau, Angus and Agatha began a two-pronged approach to tracing the Bracers to their points of origin while Agatha, pretending to be working on a puff piece for the Midsummer Costume Rush, investigated all the people who did remarkable facsimiles of the famous Bureau Bracers.
Neither of those approaches found anything.
Agatha’s other role -as bait- was the one that paid off. The ‘nega-bureau’ sent another agent attempting to kidnap her, and she gave him another dose of her famous tea.
Zone of Truth took care of the rest. The ‘nega-bureau’ weren’t connected to the Bracers’ creation. They were connected to their investiture with the unique assortment of spells that made up their completion. Specifically, tracking.
Every Bureau Bracer monitored the life signs of a Bureau agent, where they were, and whether or not they sent an Orb request to the moon. When an Agent died, the spells were meant to send a signal to the moon to such an effect, and then prevent any further tracking.
These people had been obliterating the ‘further tracking’ part for themselves. They them paid adventuring parties, or sent their own, to recover the bracers of the dead agents. Which they then employed for themselves through clever spellwork.
Now they had an ‘in’.
Angus, working with Taako, re-invigorated the tracking spell, and their map filled with the location tags of dead Bureau agents.
Boyland. Magic Brian. Even Johann, who had never been in the field. There were hundreds of them. Hundreds more stacked in clusters.
“That must be their warehouse,” whispered Agatha.
Killian, looking at the map, was looking greener than usual. “When I get my hands on them…” It had once been her job to hunt down–
Former friends and family, allies and coworkers, who had gone mad with the Thrall of a Grand Relic.
She was looking at a map full of ghosts. Haunting her anew with their very presence.
“We have to keep a level head, here,” said Angus. “I know this is more than upsetting, but… we need a coherent plan.”
Which was, ultimately, the same plan as always. With the added bonus of Agatha’s Big Bangs to effectively cast Blindness over any crew in the warehouse.
The entirety of the Bureau of Benevolence, the Seven Birds, the Reaper Squad and the newly-named Team Smartypants[1] made very short work of the nega-bureau. Eliminating their field operatives with pinpoint precision before closing in on the warehouse.
Even then, it was something of a clusterfuck.
There’s a universal law that, no matter the size and collective levels of a team, they will encounter an opposing force that’s more than a little bit challenging. Even with mechanic-breakers on their side like Taako.
Angus was down to Cantrips when Agatha found her last Big Bang. “EYES!”
Whoomph!
After one of them, even Magic Missile could do some damage. And since he had a warning, he could pick off the nastiest of the nasties with even the lowest of low-level spells.
He even incapacitated a few of them with wedgies care of his Mage Hand. All because it made Agatha giggle. She had the most wonderful laugh. And the most devious mind he had ever encountered when it came to improvising ways to decimate the bad guys.
And the way her curls framed her face, and the depth of her eyes, and the way he felt whenever she was around and…
“You’re amazing,” he said.
And her lips were more intoxicating than any other experience in his life and she was kissing him back and he wanted to lose himself forever in the feel of her lips on his and her closeness next to him and her hands in his hair and the warmth of her in his arms and…
“GODS DAMNIT, SHE’S FRENCHING MY BABY!”
…oh fuck, Taako knew.
Then again. People could probably tell who rolled a nat one on their perception check.
“Taako, leave them alone. They’re in love. It’s special.”
Yup. Confirmed. Even Magnus could tell, and he was Mister Oblivious.
Angus stared into Agatha’s eyes, grinning like a fool in love. She had a similar expression on her lovely face.
“I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE THE PARENT OF THE GROOM!”
They laughed together at Taako’s histrionics.
“Guess we better help him get used to the idea,” said Agatha.
“Capital idea,” said Angus, and went in for their second kiss.
[1] Blame Magnus.
Taako, finally taking his honeymoon, had left Angus with Magnus. This was the sane and sensible thing to do because literally everyone else was busy except Merle. And nobody with any sense in their noggins left kids alone with Merle. He was, without a doubt, the world’s worst babysitter.
Then Magnus had had a dog emergency and, rather than traumatise a six-year-old boy[1] with a lot of big, loud dogs… went to the only port in the metaphorical storm.
Merle.
The good news was that Merle had nothing further planned than a little gardening[2] and beach play with his own kids. The bad news, naturally, was that this was Merle. He had a laissez-faire attitude to child-rearing at the best of times and tended to treat kids like slightly incompetent adults who just needed a few more experience points from the school of hard knocks.
“And if you go near any plants, keep it PG or I swear to Jeffandrew…”
“So… violent and juicy mutilation is in, but sex is out,” said Merle.
“What? No! Don’t do any of that shit. Merle… Pan-damnit… You know Angus is a little… okay, he needs gentleness. Got it?”
“Ah, he needs a little toughening up, right kiddo?”
“Ms Carey and Ms Killian have been teaching me how to defend myself, sirs,” said Angus. “Last time, I tossed Ms Killian five feet.”
Magnus said, “If you make him cry, Taako will literally kill you. If you traumatise him, Taako will literally kill you. If you–”
“I get it, I get it. Relax. We’re all keeping our clothes on. Gimmie the kid. He’ll be fine.”
Magnus had his doubts, but he also had twenty rescued fighting dogs to re-train and pacify. “No adventuring.”
“No adventuring,” sighed Merle.
*
The first thing Angus noticed about Merle’s home was how everything was far more convenient for someone of his height. Well. Apart from bumping into the odd light fixture.
Small wonder that the family chose to gather in Chesney’s, which was more… open plan. Open to the sky, open to the beach air, open enough for a gargantuan to sit and quaff if they so wished…
This place had a different aura. It had the closed-in safe feeling of one of Papa’s cuddle cotes, but the organic coziness of an underground burrow. And yet, thanks to skylights and assorted glowing things, there was plenty of light. No scary shadows to haunt Angus’ active imagination.
And green things literally everywhere. Potted plants. Hanging plants. Plants in sconces. Plants hanging off the walls. If it wasn’t covered in leaves, it was furniture. There was even a carpet of soft moss on the floor.
“It’s like this,” said Merle, “It’s soft, it’s used to getting walked on, and I don’t need to vacuum. It’s win-win.”
Angus got to bunk with Mookie, and set his little suitcase on the empty bed. After that, it was out into the jungle that Merle called a garden.
“Aah, would ya look at that,” he cooed. “The Dreamroot is flowering.”
They looked relatively unattractive. Five upright stalks attached to five small and boring flowers, almost lost in the larger handspan-diameter leaves.
“Dreamroot, sir?”
“It’s a herb. Got me a lot of herbs growing here. This little fella…” he tickled a leaf, coughed, and held his hands behind his back. “Well, it’s used by lots of folks as a sleep aid. Deep sleep, restful dreams… something about Elves, I forget the rest of the mnemonic.” He shrugged. “My stores are low, so you can help me prep this baby for the potion pot.”
The flower smelled… very nice. It made Angus feel happy, so he bent over to sniff it a lot as he helped Merle extract as much of the thick, tuberous root as possible.
“Don’t mind that the thin little hairs snap off, it’s okay. That’s one of the ways that it spreads. Those roots send up new shoots, and they become new Dreamroot plants. It’s all part of the wonders of nature.”
“The PG wonders of nature,” said Angus, who was feeling giggly.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“What does PG stand for?”
Merle didn’t answer that, but got him and Mavis inside for some prep work. The leaves, flowers and stems were all cut off and hung upside-down, but the peel had to come off the root and the rest of it had to be sliced thinly so it could dry properly. Which meant running pieces of it through the mandoline and into a bowl of water.
Angus didn’t feel it when he cut himself. Not even when Mavis washed it, patted it dry, and cast Cure Wounds. He just thought it was so funny.
Mavis said, “Maybe you should go outside to play with Mookie for a while.”
That was a great idea.
He charged outside and tackled Mookie and showed him some moves and splashed around in the water and chased birds and wrestled with Mookie and chased birds and splashed around in the water and ran up and down the beach and around the house and through all the hallways and wrestled with Mookie and made a lot of noise and the drying cupboard smelled so nice and he felt so good about the world and he laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed…
The mnemonic Merle forgot went, Deep sleep, restful dreams, but give to Elves to make them scream.
*
“On the plus side, he’s quiet now.”
“Fuck you, Merle, he’s stoned out of his little gourd. You gave him drugs, Merle.”
“Not intentionally!”
Angus, clutched tight in Taako’s arms, was drooling a little. His body was limp, but his eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated. His ears were pointed straight up and vibrating slightly.
“Meeerrrrrrlllle…” Taako had only caught enough Dreamroot fumes for the time it took to literally drag his son out of the airing cupboard. If he was up to snuff, he would have been a fatal exposure for the Dwarven Cleric. But for now… he was kind’a sloppy. “You don’t- you don’t- you don’t… yoooo do NOT give li’l kids drugs, Merle. ‘S a bad thing. ‘S a ver’ bad thing.”
“Even accidentally, this kind of thing looks bad,” said Kravitz. “And how could you forget a mnemonic? They’re designed to be remembered, Merle!”
Merle had the decency to look embarrassed. “Did a little pipeweed before Magnus came over.”
“MERLE!”
“It’s for my sciatica!”
“Oh gods,” sighed Kravitz. “How the hell am I supposed to get them sober?”
“Krav,” said Taako. “Hey, Krav…”
“They stink of Dreamroot…”
“Hey. Hey. Hey, Krav. Krav. Kravvie…”
“They’re gonna be stoned all the way home…”
“Kravitz-darling…”
Sigh. “Yes, darling?”
“Our baby smells nice.”
Which was the fifth time that Taako had come to this revelation. “Yes, Dove. He smells so very nice. But we have to get home and wash it off and give him some nicer smells, okay?”
“I’m stoned, aren’t I?”
“Yes, love. You’re very stoned.”
Taako looked stricken. “Are you mad at me, Bone Daddy?”
“No, I’m mad at Merle. He’s far more convenient.”
“Oooohhh… let’s be mad at Merle together,” Taako whispered.
Kravitz enlisted Barry’s help to get them both home, since he was also immune to Dreamroot fumes. Barry took Taako and Kravitz took Angus, both by way of Reaper portals to Casa de Taako. Where both Elf an half-Elf could be decontaminated in relative peace.
Taako’s final words to Merle that day were, “Hey. Fuck you! Strong letter t’ follow.”
They decided to take their next honeymoon with Angus in tow. It was the least amount of trouble that way.
[1] In this AU, Angus is younger. You can safely posit that this follows from the 4YO Angus acknowledging his adoption story. Only this time, he’s half-elven. Same story, different ears, if you will.
[2] Threatened, multiple times, on pain of pain, to keep it PG.