The artwork above is not mine.
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Author's Note:
I don't know why I have to keep ripping my own heart with these, but sometimes my inner writing demons are just like "Hmmm, how do you think they felt about all of this? How do you think he reacted to what happened over here? Do you think we could possibly make this hurt worse than it already does?" And me being me, I usually say, "I have no idea. Let's find out!"
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Characters: Kallias and Viviane
Book: A Court of Snow and Storms
This story takes place in the middle of Chapter 22.
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Kallias stared at the door, willing Wynter to return. Willing himself to go after his son. His feet remained rooted to the floor. His magic hummed an alert as someone breached the wards. Wynter was gone. His words still echoed through Kallias' head, hitting him harder with every repeating syllable.
"Thank you for waiting to give up on me until I started trying to rebuild myself. Thank you for reminding me that I'm far too broken to be fixed."
Too broken to be fixed. Waiting to give up on him... He'd been rebuilding himself. He'd been trying to piece himself back together. Trying to make sense of the shattered ruined mess that the Bloodless Witch had left him in. For months now, he must've been trying. And Kallias had undone that progress in mere seconds.
Self loathing sunk its venomous fangs into his heart, squeezing and squeezing until he was sure it would burst. And Kallias still couldn't move. He should go after Wynter, and if he couldn't, he should send someone in his stead. Wynter needed...
He didn't know what Wynter needed. He hadn't known what his son needed for years now. Kallias lifted his hands to his face. Buried his shameful features in his palms. Sank to his knees, a shuddering breath passing between his parted lips. What had he just done?
"They will see it as you giving up on your son, just as they have." He hadn't give up on Wynter. He never had, and yet... "Thank you for waiting to give up on me until I started trying to rebuild myself."
Wynter believed he'd given up on him. His son had been crying. Kallias had seen his tears freeze into crystals on his cheeks. He'd seen Wynter's frost tipped fingers rubbing his arms, as though he could numb whatever revolting things he'd been feeling.
How many times had he seen Wynter do that exact same thing? Rubbing his arms. Freezing himself from the outside in. Trying to numb different parts of himself. How many times had the temperature dropped so low around Wynter that even Kallias had difficulty bearing it?
His son had grown so cold in the past year. All of that cold had leaked from some gaping fissure in his heart. A hole that Kallias often wondered if he had helped create. A crack that had only grown after what Melantha did to Wynter. After what she made him do.
And Kallias only knew what that was because of the others who had been imprisoned with Wynter. Never once had Wynter truly spoken of what the Witch did to him during his months of captivity. Only when he referred to himself as her whore did he mention it.
But that terrible cold hadn't surrounded Wynter so much lately. He'd been thawing. Growing warmer. Coming back to life. Hell, Wynter had spoken to Kallias, and gone out and ridden with him more in the past few weeks than he had in the last year. He'd even written to his mother, promising that he would one day be able to see her again.
And today, Wynter had barged in without a trace of that blossoming warmth in his features. He'd come to them as a male, fearing for his life. As a son, fearing for his parents. And Kallias might as well have said he was disowning Wynter, no matter how many times he had claimed otherwise.
By the Cauldron, he'd told Wynter that he would allow the Court to see the baby as his Heir Apparent, if that's what it took to keep the peace. After Wynter had said repeatedly how afraid he was of that happening. Of being replaced, forcefully or otherwise.
It didn't matter that a High Lord was chosen based on his power and strength. It didn't matter that Wynter was the firstborn, the obvious choice for a future High Lord. It didn't matter that they didn't even know if the baby was a boy or a girl yet.
No, what mattered was that Kallias had said he'd replace Wynter. Strip him of his birthright. His title. The thing he'd believed himself to be since the day he was first told what he was, and what he might one day become.
Kallias dug his fingers into his hair, his nails scraping painfully over his scalp. "Then you stole my childhood for nothing. You taught me everything I know for nothing."
He remembered what a bright eyed learner Wynter had been, curious and eager to please. He'd caused plenty of trouble too, but only because he was bored or... Kallias rocked back onto his heels, his eyes burning. Or because he had simply wanted his father's attention.
How had he failed his son like this? Every lesson he'd planned. Every trip they'd made. Every discussion, meeting, and summons they'd held. Wynter had done it all without complaint. He'd been the golden child. The studious pupil. The dedicated son. The perfect Prince. And when he acted out or misbehaved, it was for Kallias. To catch his attention. To find a reminder that he did care. That he was watching. That he was proud.
"What did you say to him?" He'd never even heard the door open. The hem of Vivane's skirt entered his vision. "Colette just wrote to me. Wynter ordered them to leave. He's barred everyone from the townhouse. What did you say to him?" He couldn't answer. "Kallias, what did you say to my son?"
He still couldn't speak, so he lowered his mental shields and allowed his memories of the conversation to pass across the Mating Bond. He was aware of Viviane's icy anger growing with every word.
"How could you say that to him?" She demanded. "After everything he just told us... After everything he just told you, how could you say that? He's spent his entire life trying to be who you wanted him to be! Trying to be the perfect Heir, so that someday, he'd be the perfect High Lord. So that someday, he would finally make you proud! How could you say that to him?"
Kallias didn't even have the strength to admonish her about over-exciting himself. Minutes passed, and he finally found his voice. "I was thinking of the Court," he rasped.
"You should've been thinking of your son."
Her words resonated within him, snapping the last of the shock that had gripped his mind. Kallias stared up at Viviane, but did not rise. "I have always been thinking about Wynter. Everything I've ever done has been to prepare him for what he might face in the future. I...I did my best. I just wanted him to be prepared. To know. To have a plan. To, to, to..."
"To keep him safe," he gritted out. "To do whatever was necessary to keep him safe. Appeasing the Court and the people might be the only way to do that now."
"So you would take away the one thing Wynter has clung to as a steadfast truth to keep him safe? The one thing that might have been keeping him safe, keeping him alive, until now?"
"I don't know." His voice grew fainter. "I don't know."
"You don't know what, Kallias?"
"Anything. I don't know anything." The last of his strength fled from him. His walls crumble and his shoulders slumped under the weight of the debris. Tears dripped down Kallias' cheeks, hot and salty. "I don't know how to help him and it's tearing me apart. I'm his father. I'm supposed to protect him, and look at what that Witch has done to him!"
"And I didn't even know he was gone until I looked for him. I should've known when it happened. I should've known before it happened. I should've prevented it from happening in the first place, but I didn't! Look at him! Look at the scars on his throat. I don't even know what caused them. What other scars is he hiding? What did she do to him in that fucking hellhole? What did she do that I wasn't there to shield him from?"
He couldn't stop the words from pouring out of his mouth. He couldn't stop his tears from falling. He couldn't stop his chest from heaving. "All I have ever wanted to do is protect Wynter, and all I've ever done is fail! I planned for everything. At least, I tried to. But I never planned for this. I never planned for a necromancer to steal him from our home. To hold him prisoner and blackmail him. To give him no choice to fuck her and MOTHER KNOWS WHAT ELSE!"
"And after everything we did to get him back, our son is farther away than ever. He is breaking, Viv." Kallias closed his eyes, lowering his head to his knees. "I've watched him try to hold himself together for the past year. I've watched him lose a little more of himself every time he tried to grab onto something else. And I don't know how to help him. There is so little of our son left. I don't know how to help him. I don't know what to do."
"I've been nothing but a fucking idiot since he was born, and now he's paying the price. I'm worried what the final price will be. What will finally drive him over the edge. What I said tonight, how he reacted..." He heard a rustle of fabric and a gentle hand touched his cheek.
Viviane tilted his head up and Kallias managed to open his eyes. Her own reflected his despair. "What if we wake up tomorrow and he's gone?" Kallias whispered, his heart clenching in pain. "What can we do? What can I do? He'll never let us into the townhouse and his wards are strong enough that I won't be able to break them to get in."
"How will we know? How long could he be... How long would it take for someone to get in? To check on him? To...to tell us." Kallias couldn't keep his breath from shaking. Not as a terrible image flashed before his eyes. His son's pale skin washed crimson with blood. A puddle beneath his face, his snowy hair sticking to it. Tears still crystallized beneath his wide empty eyes.
Viviane trembled and he knew she'd seen what he had. Kallias pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her ivory hair. He breathed her scent deeply, trying to draw comfort from it. Neither of them spoke for several long minutes. At last, Viviane lifted her gaze to his.
"Wynter is stronger than that," she murmured. "We have to believe that he is. He just needs time to process things right now. So do we. After he's thought everything over, he'll come back. He always does."
"He didn't come back from Melantha. Not really."
"He's trying to."
He was, Kallias thought, but he didn't correct his mate.
"There is a female," Viviane said slowly. "The one we rescued and brought to the Dawn Court. Do you remember her?"
Kallias nodded. He did, vaguely. He remembered that she was remarkably beautiful, but a little unorthodox for someone from the Winter Court. He remembered how she'd sought Wynter out after they returned from Melantha's fortress.
He'd never heard the words she shared with his son, but he'd seen Wynter reach for her. Kallias had seen her lean into Wynter's palms when he cupped her face in his hands. He'd watched as she covered one of his hands with her own. Kallias had known with that one gentle touch that she was someone special. That there was a reason they'd been sent to save her life. Perhaps it was so that she could save Wynter's.
"You mentioned she'd been visiting Wyn," Kallias recalled. "Regularly, in fact."
Viviane nodded. "Wynter has even written to me about her a few times. He loves her. I know he does. If he won't talk to us, maybe he'll talk to her. I could try to find her. I know where her family lives. If I could catch her by herself, I could tell her what happened and ask her to check on Wyn for us."
Kallias gazed at Viviane. At the beautiful, proud, and gentle features he'd held in his memories for fifty years in Amarantha's Court. She'd been the one thing that kept him going through that hell. The one thing that kept him from trying to end his own life, just so he wouldn't have to witness any more suffering. Participate in it. Partake of it.
She'd been his only reason to keep going. If Kallias had just taken Wynter's reason from him, then he prayed that this female was his second one. He gave a slow nod. "If you can find her, tell her."
"Maybe you should try to visit Wynter," Viviane added softly.
Kallias closed his eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea. Not right now. He...he won't want to see me."
"He's always wanted you, Kal. Even when he was little, it was you he called for. If he wanted you then, I'm sure he still wants you now. He wants to see that you care. That you didn't mean what you said. You have to prove it to him."
"All right," he relented. He didn't let her know that he had no idea how to prove that. No idea how to fix the mess he'd made of everything. No, Kallias kept his thoughts to himself as Viviane leaned into him, resting her head beneath his chin.
"I'd hoped he would be happy about the baby," she whispered. Something within him twisted at the sorrow in her voice. "I wanted him to be happy. He always talked about wanting a sibling, and he's getting one after so long."
Viviane rested a hand on her slightly rounded stomach. "There was a time when he might've insisted on helping me decorate the nursery. He would've stuck my ass in a chair and done it all himself. Why did that bitch have to come and ruin everything?"
Kallias didn't have an answer. He rarely had one of those anymore. He just held Viviane tightly and stared off into space, praying that, in his townhouse across Nivis, Wynter was alive and well. Or, as alive and well as he could be. And Kallias prayed that this female Viviane had mentioned might be able to help their son where he could not.