A/N: This is part of the Oneiroi Series, the Tiasal ending. For those who don't have a clue what that means, here: ht tp :/ /www .gliffy. com /pub doc/ 2131952 /L. png without spaces.

Pairing: Vaarsuvius/Redcloak. It makes sense in context.

Glossary: Octavius and Terentius are Vaarsuvius's first children, and Tiasal is the child she (yes, she's a she in this) accidentally had with Redcloak (long story, multi-chapter story). Series in a nutshell: V and Reddy fell in love, Tiasal is born, and through a long and convulated storyline, Xykon kills Redcloak and V and they're dead for fifteen years before they come back and take care of their daughter and help take care of their sons/stepsons, and Redcloak promised V to never sacrifice his family for his ultimate goals again. Now you're prepped!


Tiasal always got up a little before the sun with the birds.

She sat up in her bed, yawning wide enough so that her little tusks were fully visible. Chirps echoed from outside, and a fine mist had settled on the ground. The little girl slipped out from her covers and on her wooden floor, looking around the plain but homey room. There were a few homemade but loved dolls lying on her bed, little stitches everywhere from when Tiasal hadn't been careful with her claws and Terentius or Aunt Celia had had to fix them. All of her furniture—from her drawers to the rocking chair next to her bed—had been handmade by one of her relatives. Probably Uncle Roy, or maybe even Uncle Belkar. He had been trying to find a hobby to take up his time, and one of the many hobbies he had picked up was furniture making. Tiasal guessed that he only liked it because he could carve the wood out with his daggers and excessive violence.

The little girl opened her door and crept out into the silent house. Only the birds outside made a sound. It was around five thirty in the morning—Tiasal's sleep was nothing if not consistent. Her mother wouldn't get up for another hour, and her father had probably been awake for thirty minutes. He always prayed while everyone else was sleeping, and by the time Tiasal was awake, he had already made her breakfast.

That's why when she couldn't smell cooking sausage, eggs, and toast, she knew something was off.

She paused at the top of the stairs, frowning and debating going to the kitchen anyway. There wasn't any sound of pots and pans or the hissing of melting butter as usual. There wasn't a smell, or even the sound of coughing. The only time her daddy didn't get up and make them breakfast by the time she was awake was when he had been very sick, and even then, her mother had gotten up early and done it for all three of them. But if he wasn't in the kitchen, where else would her dad be?

He could be in his shrine, said a little voice in her head.

Tiasal shifted nervously. She and her mother never went there. That was her father's place, and it felt like they would be intruders.

She shifted, tempted to just go to the kitchen and wait patiently for him, but curiosity was niggling. She had always wanted to see him meditating…

She didn't have to go inside. Just look through the door. She wouldn't intrude, just see if her daddy was there and okay.

She turned around and started creeping down the hall, past her parents' room, past their study, past her room, and then…

Tiasal slowed down, swallowing hard and tiptoeing towards the closed wood door. Her ears twitched anxiously and she got ready to back away and let the door stay closed, but she mentally scolded herself for the fear. Her curiosity flickered in her belly, warm and impossible to ignore.

She reached out, gripping the cold doorknob, and opened it.

Tendrils of smoke rolled up from sweet-smelling incense. There was an idol on the table against the wall and a scroll in front of it. Simple, but somehow, the simplicity made it feel more special.

Her father was sitting cross-legged at the center of the small room, his hands resting on his knees with the pointer fingers and thumbs touching. He was murmuring in Goblin, but there was something wrong with his tone.

Tiasal felt like she was walking in on something private, like how she felt every time she looked into her parents' room and they were being intimate. But she was worried this time.

It took her a moment to understand his Goblin. It was quick, but somehow desperate.

"Am I doing the right thing?"

The little girl bit her lip, wondering if she should leave, but something told her that she shouldn't.

"I keep asking myself and I don't know. If I'm not doing what you want, please don't take it out on my family. I made a promise to Vaarsuvius that I would never put anything in front of us. Are you trying to tell me that I have to break that promise?"

She felt the color drain from her face. She knew what breaking his promise meant.

"Xykon warned you about this," a little voice Tiasal hadn't heard for a while murmured in her ear. "You should have listened to him."

She shook the voice away, clinging to her love for her father. He wouldn't go away. The voice was wrong. Xykon was wrong.

"Please don't leave us, Daddy."

Redcloak looked up sharply, eye widening in surprise. Tiasal flinched back, wondering if he would get angry at her for interrupting his prayer, but her blood was roaring in her ears. She couldn't go away now.

"You're awake?" He shook his head, frowning. "I've been in here longer than I thought. I'm sorry. Go to the kitchen—I'll be down in a moment to make breakfast and give you your medication."

"I don't want you to go away."

He was very quiet for a while, and she felt her heart thumping. She had always been scared of him getting angry when she went near his shrine. He almost never talked about religion and his relationship with his god. It was personal. It was his. It felt weird to confront him about it. But she wasn't scared about his anger this time: only his response to her pleas.

"Come and sit by me."

Tiasal paused, then nervously walked in, sitting next to her father. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, soothing her anxiety over this unknown territory. "You're using Goblin."

"You wanted me to use it, didn't you?"

He nodded, rubbing her arm gently. "I won't leave you, Sweetheart."

"Then why are you asking the Dark One if you should? You're asking if you should be dedicating yourself to the goblin people or to destroying Xykon, right?" She shook her head, feeling her protections starting to rise. He couldn't leave. He wouldn't betray her like that, would he? "To do any of that, you'd need to leave us."

Redcloak's frown tightened a little at his daughter's anxiety and he gave her a little squeeze. "You shouldn't have heard that. None of it should have ever been a part of your life." He looked up at the idol, letting out a soft sigh. "Yes, I was asking that. But I'd never leave you and your mother. I love you both."

He nuzzled her hair, taking a deep breath of her scent. "I guess I wasn't asking for an order. I was asking the Dark One to accept my decision to keep my family and to not curse you, your mother, or the baby we'll soon have. I'm praying for his approval."

Tiasal hugged herself, looking away, and Redcloak felt the barrier that had been between them at his resurrection growing again.

"Get over here." He picked her up and put her in his lap, surprising her with a tickle to her stomach. She squirmed, bubbly laughter bursting out, and the barriers disappeared. She pushed him away, eyes sparkling with flecks of gold, and he got her neck, provoking a small yelp of surprise before she squirmed from his hands. "I promise that I'll never leave. You're probably going to be the one who leaves once you've found a nice boy."

"No boy's nicer than you, Daddy." Tiasal grinned when he stopped tickling and hugged his neck. His rumbling chuckle vibrated against her belly and he kissed her cheek, letting her settle in his lap.

She smiled and leaned against his chest, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart, and closed her eyes sleepily. Her daddy wouldn't leave her. He loved her. Xykon was wrong, and so was the voice. "Daddy, why don't you ever talk about the Dark One?"

The question obviously surprised him. He glanced down at her, running a hand through her hair and privately marveling at how much like Vaarsuvius's it was. His daughter had never asked him about his religion. He had assumed that she was like most kids and didn't have much of an interest in the divine yet. "I have no right to force my religion on you, Tia, especially since I wasn't around for so long. Your spiritual upbringing is secondary to my relationship with you." He squeezed her shoulder affectionately, kissing her hair. "If you want to turn to the Dark One, I want that to be your choice."

"But it's a big part of your life." Tiasal took his hand, tracing the contours in his palm. "Why wouldn't you want to share it?"

"Religion is very personal and I've never seen the point of being outspoken about it." He cradled her gently, the incense getting mixed with her natural scent. "Your spirituality should develop with time, and I don't want to force it. But if you want to share it more, you can meditate with me any time you want."

Tiasal looked thoughtful for a while, considering it.

"But right now, I think we should have breakfast. Your meds need to be taken regularly. Go downstairs and I'll put out the incense, alright?"

The little girl nodded, grinning, and stood up, scampering out of the room. For some reason, the shrine had lost it's forbidden nature.

Redcloak looked after her, the smile falling from his face. He looked up to his idol, taking a deep, calming breath. "Please don't ask me to break that little girl's heart. I don't think that I'd be able to survive it."

He dipped his head in reverence, then stood, putting out the incense. The smoke rose in tendrils, even when the ends stopped glowing.

Redcloak walked out, shutting the door on his shrine, and went after his daughter.