The Captive Titan [ManxMan]

Chapter Thirteen: Mother

~Chapter Thirteen: Mother~

Sleep does not come easy, and it is not just because I am afraid of whether or not I will see Atlas - whether or not he is dead. Sleep does not come easy because Gwyn told me a very important fact about tomorrow morning when I asked him why he refused to leave the room and had taken up residence in his chair instead of seeking out a guest bedroom for the night.

"Your mother will be here by breakfast, and I'm to watch you until then."

And isn't that a terrifying thought?

It is stupid that I cannot bring myself to feel excited about seeing my parents again. Stupid, and frustrating, and I just feel so guilty because, by all rights, I should be happy, but I am not. It has been centuries since I have seen either of them, and there has never been a day where I have not missed them. However, there were also reasons I did not go to them the moment I was free last time; I feared their reactions to my return, and they probably would have turned me over to the Dagda, which, at the time, had seemed like trading one prison for another.

And I was too blinded by stupidity to realize that, prison or not, it was probably the best choice I had at the time.

Still, despite the fact that I have already sealed my fate with the Dagda, the thought of reuniting with my parents only fills me with dread. I want to see them - and it is unfortunate that my father had apparently visited while I was unconscious because maybe it would've been easier if I saw him first - but what if they are different? What if I have an episode? What if they are angry?

"I can hear you thinking from here, Nephew."

The low grumble that breaks the silence of the dead-quiet room makes me flinch. "I thought you were asleep."

"I promised my sister I'd keep an eye on you," is all he says in response, though it is still enough to figure out that he apparently has no intention of sleeping tonight in case something happens while he is not awake. "What's on your mind?"

For a moment, I consider lying or simply skirting around the truth, but my uncle will know if I lie to his face, and he will also see through any attempts at deflection. He might let it pass anyway, but...but maybe it would not hurt to talk to him. "If I pretend to still be unconscious tomorrow, do you think it would work?"

Gwyn scoffs softly. "They're your parents, brat," he replies, because despite my vague question, he understands. "They're not going to eat you. Now, go to sleep."

Admittedly, that is not the best reassurance I have ever received, and I am not sure if it even really counts as reassurance at all since he might mean that in a literal sense. Some types of Fae eat offspring, after all, even if it is not usually their own offspring, and Gwyn does spend more time with the Fae than the gods. Still, whether or not it counts, it does allow something in me to settle, even if my heart feels like it is twitching with apprehension.

Because, truly, no matter what happens, I won't be dead at the end.

Yet.

Yet...

I close my eyes when an anxious buzzing beneath my skin comes alive, though for a different reason entirely. After all, I might not be dead or be on the verge of walking to my own funeral pyre, but that does not mean everything is all well and good. What if the Titans who were left behind are dead? What if Atlas is dead? If he is not in my dreams tonight, is that a normal absence, or is it because he is not coming back?

Something horrible starts building in the back of my throat, and even closed, my eyes burn.

What if I left him to die?