Archive of Our Own ^beta

Seven years old is too young for this, Falan thought, not for the first time, gently running her fingers through the hair of the sleeping child in her lap. The conversion ritual was clearly starting to take its physical toll on Judal. Even sound asleep, he looked completely exhausted, his hair was still damp with sweat, and the shadows under his eyes spoke to the fact that this was the closest to a peaceful rest he was getting lately. Far too young yet.

She glanced over to the nightstand beside them, which looked even smaller next to Judal’s overlarge bed. From past experience, she knew that he would wake up with his body sore and his head aching fiercely, so she had a painkilling draught and wet washcloths ready there. Absently, she reached over and muttered a spell over the bowl of water the cloths floated in, to keep it cold enough to soothe, before wrapping her arms back around Judal. He was getting thin, too, she noticed...Since the ritual depleted his energy, anyway, maybe it would be good to have a bit of food waiting for him when he woke up. Peaches would be nice, something light and sweet that he liked.

It wouldn’t take long to order something brought from the kitchens. Carefully, so as not to wake him, Falan set Judal down against the pillows and stood up. But as soon as she stepped away from the bed, a small whimper came from behind her. She looked down, and saw Judal’s face scrunched up in discomfort, as if he somehow knew that the protective arms around him were gone. “Shhh,” she said, running her fingers from the boy’s forehead down to his chin until the worried lines in them smoothed back out. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

But no sooner had she stepped out the door than a voice directly beside her made her jump. “Sentimental, aren’t you?”

Whirling around, Falan tensed in preparation to fight, but relaxed a second later, sighing when she realized who it was. “Arba, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” Gyokuen said flippantly, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. “You and Judal are just so cute.”

“Was there something you wanted? Because if not, then I don't have time for you.”

“Oh, Falan, don't be like that. Just because you get in these little moods every time we perform the ritual doesn’t mean you can get snippy with me.”

“Was there something you wanted, Arba?” Falan repeated, slower and harsher this time.

Gyokuen smirked, and tilted her head to the side. “Come, walk with me.”

Suppressing another sigh, Falan followed down their domain’s halls at her friend’s side, listening to her continue: “I can’t help but notice the way you’ve started to treat Judal after the ritual.”

“What about it? Am I supposed to just leave him lying unconscious on the floor, like you? Do you find something wrong with - ?”

“First of all, that was one time. Second of all, don't get so defensive. In theory, no, there isn't anything wrong. You, me, and Ithnan, the three of us have been looking after Judal his whole life. The more attached he is to us, the easier it will be to handle him. But you, Falan...You seem to have forgotten who he is, and how this is supposed to work. You weren’t supposed to get so attached to him.”

“Oh?” Falan said, filling the word with as much polite disdain as she could without making it a direct challenge. “What exactly have I forgotten? I train him to the best of my ability, I teach him to obey the orders he’s given, and I see nothing wrong with caring about him while I do that.”

A hint of a laugh escaped Gyokuen, as if the very notion was amusing. “Really? Caring about him?”

What is she getting at? Falan wondered, gritting her teeth. “Yes. Just because your children are disposable tools to you - “

“And not to you?” Gyokuen shot back, still looking to be on the edge of laughter. “You would watch them die without a shred of sorrow right alongside me! I thought I had satisfied you when I let you play with them all when they were little, but they were only ever toys to you, weren’t they? Especially after they survived past the age of four and you lost interest in them.”

“You've made your point,” Falan growled. “And yet you still haven't explained yourself. Judal is important to me and you seem to have a problem with that. Why?”

“It’s not that that’s the problem. Let me be very direct with you, Falan: You cannot be more important to Judal than I am.”

“What?! What are you talking abou - ”

“Don’t act as if you don’t understand. Judal is al-Thamen’s greatest asset. As leader of the organization and as a fellow Magi, I must be the center of his life, so that he can never be swayed from our side even if you and Ithnan aren’t there any more. You have known that from the beginning.”

Well, Falan had to admit she couldn’t deny that logic. Though she and Ithnan were the arms of al-Thamen, Arba was its heart, and she would keep their cause alive long after the two of them had died for it. But even so...

“I never intended to be the center of his life. I would never seek to replace you as anything. But Judal cares about me, too. He knows he can come to me for protection, for comfort, for love, especially after stressful things like the conversion ritual. That’s hardly a problem, Arba.”

“Leaving aside the fact that I don’t want you teaching him that the ritual is a bad thing that he needs to be protected from...No, let’s not leave that aside, this all seems to stem from what’s happened with the ritual, doesn’t it? You see, I can’t be entirely sure that your feelings towards him aren’t getting in the way of what must be done. Any other child wouldn't matter to you, but you can’t stand to see this one in pain, and it makes you hold back from inducing his fall.”

“That’s not true!” Falan shouted, but her friend was right. She knew that the ritual was a necessary agony, and that it was all for the sake of making Judal stronger. But every time she saw the boy forced down to the floor of that room, eyes stretched wide as he shrieked in pain and terror, chills ran down her spine and her heart twisted horribly.

And Gyokuen knew it. “Yes, it is true. Don't try to lie to me. You think I could forget the look in your eyes on that first night?”

The first night...That had been the worst, when Judal had walked into the dark room with no idea what was about to happen to him. She could still remember Gyokuen smiling next to her, her excitement palpable, and Judal’s voice, tiny with fear as he followed the empress’ instructions.

Now, just close your eyes and let yourself relax. Trust us. We know exactly what we’re doing.

...I trust you.

You shouldn’t trust us, she had thought despairingly as she raised her hand to perform the magic that tortured him deeper into depravity. Maybe that only proved Gyokuen’s point, but that didn’t make the thought incorrect. You shouldn’t.

“And that’s why it makes me want to laugh when you insist that he cares for you so much, instead of me.” Gyokuen’s eyes glittered as a harsh smirk curved her lips. “When he cries for his mother through the pain, do you really think it’s you he’s calling for?”

Falan’s eyes widened, as she remembered the scream for help that had torn Judal’s throat that night.

Mama! MAMA!

“And it’s not his voice you’re hearing when he’s crying, either, is it? Your mind will always be on someone else, someone you’ll never be able to let go of.”

Mama! Mama! I’m so scared, save me...!

“Arba...” Falan heard herself whisper, feeling as if she'd been punched in the stomach, as she tried and failed to force the worst of her memories away.

“I think I misspoke before. It seems less like you’ve forgotten who Judal is, and more that you’ve forgotten who he’s not.”

Mama...? Mama...Papa...I’m so scared, it’s so hot...Help me...

“Arba, stop...”

“He’s not your son, Falan,” Gyokuen said, looking her directly in the eyes. “He never has been, and he never will be.”

“I...I know that...”

“No, I don't think you do. You say you love Judal, but do you really love him, or do you love the thought of what he's replacing, the void you’re trying to make him fill in your life?”

Falan opened her mouth to say yes, of course she loved Judal for himself and nothing else, but the words wouldn’t come. Deep down, she knew it would be a lie, and it made her blood boil to have it pointed out and thrown in her face like this. However, it appeared that Gyokuen found victory in her hesitation and anger.

“Honestly, Falan, you can’t be upset with me for curbing your delusions here? You must understand why I can’t let them escalate any further.” Finding the thought amusing, she laughed. “What’s next? Are you going to start dressing him like Tess too, or will you - Ack!”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Falan snapped, spinning around to grab Gyokuen by the neck and slam her against the wall, as hard as she could. The empress grimaced, trying to pry Falan’s hand off with both of her own, but the other woman only dug her fingers tighter into her throat. How dare she use my own child against me, how dare she mock his death, how dare she!

“Arba,” she hissed, cold fury in her voice. “You are my friend, and I love you dearly. But don’t you ever think you can say his name so lightly again. I won’t forgive you if you do.”

“A-Agreed,” Gyokuen choked out. Falan, more or less satisfied, released her, and stepped back while she caught her breath again. “My apologies. I didn’t think you would react so strongly,” she said as she brushed herself off, ignoring the other raising her eyebrows at the flimsy explanation. “But my original point still stands, does it not?”

“Your original point being?”

“That when it comes to Judal, you need to back away.” This time it was Falan’s turn to be taken by surprise: the words weren’t exactly a possessive snarl, but it was the closest Gyokuen ever came to one. “He belongs to me, even more so than Hakuei and Hakuryuu do, and he has belonged to me from the moment he was born. Nothing you do can change that.”

“Belongs to you? He may not be my child, but that doesn’t make him your property, Arba!”

“I don’t care what you call it. Judal is mine. You would do well to remember your place. And speaking of which?”

Falan didn’t even see her move. She only felt something slam into the backs of her knees, and then she was on the floor, Gyokuen pinning her shoulders down with one arm and holding a blade to her throat with the other. “If you ever touch me like that again, Falan, I’ll kill you,” she said sweetly, with a falsely pleasant smile. “Are we clear?”

“Perfectly,” Falan said. She hadn’t thought that she would get away with attacking her leader unpunished, but it didn’t matter. Her point had been made, too. “Let me up, will you?”

Gyokuen slid the knife back into her sleeve, but didn’t move to let Falan up. Her smile had faded. “I need to make sure you understand this, too. You and Judal may care for each other, but you can never recreate the bond between mother and child with him, however you pretend that you can. I am the only one who is capable of that. Do you understand?”

“I - ”

But before Falan could get the words out, another voice, small and nervous and familiar, echoed through the halls and caught both women’s attention.

“Falan? Are you...Are you here?”

On instinct rather than her better judgment, Falan started to answer, but Gyokuen dug her heel into her stomach as she stood up, turning her reply into a breathless yelp.

“No, you’re not,” she said, unimpressed. She reached down, pulled Falan to her feet, and gripped her shoulder hard. “You’re going to leave Judal to me, get out of here, and think about what I’m trying to tell you. My advice to you, Falan, is to turn your heart cold again. Remember what you are, and what you are not. And save your devotion for our Father.”

With that, the empress turned and started back the way the two of them had come. “Judal? Is that you?” she called lovingly, her voice like silk. “I’m here, darling. What’s the matter?”

Faintly nauseated, Falan turned to head out in the opposite direction. Her leader had ordered her away, and time alone would be good for her, anyway. Time alone to think, to forget...

Cruel as her friend had been, she was telling the truth. No matter what she did in the present, Falan could not fix what had happened in the past. Nothing could stop her from caring for the young Magi, she thought, but he could not be her child. Arba could take all of her children for granted and think nothing of it, but Falan’s one chance at protecting her son’s life had been lost forever, long ago.

I have no way to truly reform my family...I have nothing, she thought, her eyes stinging with tears. I am no one’s mother, now.

~0~