The Fluffy Bits
Part of the Fragmented Soul World
Imperial Ceylon
Lukas at the age of ten and how his love of tea came about, also how he came to be on bad terms with his father.
May 1984
"That's Palace Earl Grey," she instructed, her ten year old son, who was looking up at her with apt enthusiasm. She took a sip of the tea, letting herself breath in the slightly citrusy aroma mixed with that of heady black tea. The two of them shared their curly chestnut hair and dull blue eyes but otherwise Lukas Faris was the spitting image of his father, a man who wanted very little to do with his only child. Claire had been overjoyed to share her love of tea with her little boy who seemed to relish each brew he tried.
Malcolm Faris had very little time for Lukas; the boy was far too intellectual and had very little in the way of brawn, how Malcolm believed a boy should be. Though that was only part of the reason; Malcolm hadn't looked at his son the same since it had happened.
"I think I prefer the Imperial Ceylon," Lukas said as he took hold of the delicate teacup with that particular brew and took a small sip. He'd already drank two cups of the stuff this morning alone. His mother had always said he was something of an old man, stuck in a young boy's body; Lukas, of course, had taken this as quite the compliment as he prided himself on being 'a real English gentleman'. "Oh yes, this is my favourite," he told her.
Claire chuckled, she so loved her little man, despite his unfortunate disease. Malcolm been furious, had wanted to cast him aside, disown the boy, and try again for another that wouldn't have the dreaded and feared Lycanthropy curse but Claire had point blank refused. It was the reason they had never given Lukas any siblings; Claire had feared that Lukas would become neglected and unloved if she were to give Malcolm another child, whether it was a son or a daughter.
Ever since he had been bitten and regrettably infected, Claire had kept Lukas hidden from the world. She had been afraid that they just wouldn't understand. It was her choice to tutor him at home rather than to send him to a magical school that wouldn't have known how to cope with his disease. It worked well for them now that Malcolm spent more time at work than he did at home.
Lukas poured himself another cup of Imperial Ceylon with a smile on his young face. He relished this time with his mother. His father was not a man whom he could get along with. Not that Malcolm ever spent time with him anymore, not since he had been bitten when he was just five years old, but Lukas didn't mind this so much; he much preferred the company of his mother, who had given him her love of tea. It was something special that just the two of them shared and that is why Lukas treasured it so much.
"How about you try this one, Lukas," she suggested fondly, pouring the hot water through the strainer holding a blend of chai tea that was her own personal favourite. Lukas, obliging his mother, took the tea cup and took a delicate sip of the hot heavily spiced liquid.
"It's lovely, but I still prefer the Ceylon," Lukas told her with a smile and Claire nodded her approval. This was their ritual, every morning after Malcolm had left for work and before they began his lessons; they would sit together and decide upon which tea to drink while they studied together. The light burning in the ten year olds eyes as they discussed the various blends warmed her heart.
"I thought we could start by having a look at that new Arithmancy book you got yesterday," Claire suggested, delighted by the expression of delight that Lukas was wearing when he looked up from his tea. Lukas' love of Arithmancy and numbers was one thing he had gotten from his father. The young boy was certainly something to admire, Claire had never known a child quite like him.
He put his teacup carefully down on the table, hardly able to withhold his excitement. "I'll go get it," he told her eagerly, rushing off up the stairs.
Claire was carefully topping up Lukas' Ceylon tea in his favourite teacup, when the front door was opened rather forcefully, slamming against the wall and making her jump in surprise and alarm.
By the time she had placed the delicate china tea pot upon the table her husband was stood in the doorway to their kitchen, looking furious; he had only been gone half an hour at most and she should couldn't begin to imagine what had her husband so riled up.
"Malcolm? Whatever is the matter, my love?" she asked kindly, getting up and stepping around the table towards him.
He sneered at her in absolute disgust, "I want a divorce," he said and then with mocking he added, "my love." Claire's breath caught in her throat as the words were spoken, her heart clenching as the word divorce was spat at her so hatefully.
Lukas stalled at the top of the stairs, his father was home. He had the Arithmancy book clutched desperately tightly to his chest. He could hear every word that his parents said and when his dad uttered the word divorce he almost dropped his book. He had never so much as miss-used a book in his life.
His attention was intently on the conversation that was going on downstairs, trying to figure out why his father would have come home early and why he would be asking his Mum for a divorce. He crept down a couple of steps and tried to curl himself up small, listening with great care, not wanting to miss a word, but also definitely not wanting to go downstairs or be anywhere his father.
He kept the book tucked up with him, between his chest and knees, resting his chin upon the hard cover as he heard his mother ask, "A divorce, where has this come from?" She genuinely sounded surprised as if this had come from nowhere. Lukas could never recall his parents ever exchanging cross words before now, it didn't make any sense.
"I want to marry someone else, someone who has my child, a child that isn't a monster!" As the words left Malcolm's lips, Lukas realised that it was his fault, his father was leaving because of him. His mother was losing her husband because he was a werewolf.
"You… you cheated on me…" Lukas heard his mother say, sounding heartbroken, and he felt the guilt burn inside him. He wanted to run away, hide, pretend this wasn't happening. Maybe if he went away his father would stay and then his Mum could still be happy.
Lukas put the book aside, took a deep breath before charging down the stairs and into the kitchen where his father was squaring up to his mother. "I'll leave" he declared, "I'll go away, just don't leave mum."
"Stay out of this!" Malcolm snarled, not even turning to look at his ten year old son. "I will have the papers with you by the end of the week, you will sign them," he told Claire. "Obviously you can keep… him," Malcolm sneered, with a half glance at Lukas who was standing looking between his parents worriedly.
"I'll leave, I swear, I'll leave right now," Lukas promised, pulling on his father's sleeve.
"Go upstairs, Lukas," Claire told him
"No mum, I want you to be happy," Lukas said sadly, he didn't want to go away, he didn't want to leave his Mum, but for her sake he would do it.
Claire turned away from Malcolm, kneeling down in front of her son with a smile on her lips and tears in her dull blue eyes. "I'm happy with you, dear one,"
"You don't mean that mum, I'm a monster," Lukas told her, his gaze falling to the floor, where he could see his tears landing near his feet.
"No, Lukas," Claire insisted gently, tipping his chin up to meet his tearful eyes, and drying them with a thumb, "your father is the monster."
That was enough for Malcolm who suddenly felt that he had to show them just how much of a monster he was. With the swipe of one large, brutish arm, he had brushed the pot, cups and saucers, so precisely laid out by mother and son, on to the floor. The delicate china tea set smashing to the tiled ground with a tremendous crash, the remainder of the tea splashing onto every nearby surface.
Claire and Lukas froze in horror. They had picked out the beautiful tea set together a month previously for her birthday. The shards of it now covering the floor irreparable even with magic. "Lukas, dear one, please go upstairs," she pleaded with her son. Malcolm had never been a calm or composed man and she didn't want her little boy to be caught in the crossfire.
"No, Mum, I won't let him hurt you," Lukas told her, wrapping his arms around her tightly and protectively.
"Finally growing some balls!" Malcolm snapped, looking at his son for the first time. "Too little, too late, I've replaced you boy. If you could only have managed it before you let that monster bite you," he said with disgust.
"He was FIVE!" Claire yelled in anger, there was nothing that Lukas could have done, there was nothing any of them could have done that fateful night. And Malcolm knew that. If he was going to be gone from their lives then she sure wasn't going to let him leave behind such ideas in Lukas' head.
In a moment of fury, Lukas let go of his mother and ran forward teeth bared, wanting to bite his father; to make him see how well he was able to defend himself against such an attack, even as a child; wanting to punish him for being so mean. However Malcolm saw this attack coming and was able to push away the boy who had always been small for his age. Not even becoming a werewolf could alter that fact.
"Don't you touch him!" Claire raged, grabbing Lukas and holding him close. "You'll have your divorce," she said, her voice holding firm.
"Finally learned to do what you are told," he said smugly, "seems you and your boy have that in common. Learning what I tried to teach you, just too little, too late." Malcolm let out a laugh and pushed Lukas' teacup off the side of the table, just to watch his son's reaction. They would understand who was in control of the situation.
Lukas watched, as almost in slow motion, his favourite teacup fell to the ground. The Imperial Ceylon brew that it had contained practically exploding across the tiled kitchen floor, the china shattering and scattering. A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye but he stood firm, his mother's comforting arms around him. He had to be strong for his mother now, he had to make her proud.
"OUT!" Claire shouted, "Get out," she said more quietly, blinking her own tears from her eyes as she looked at the sad expression on Lukas' face.
"Gladly," Malcolm snarled, "I'll be back for my stuff, it better be packed by tomorrow."
"You want it packed you'll do it yourself or get your whore to do it," Claire told him with barely contained fury, "if it's still here tomorrow night I'll burn it."
"And I'll help," Lukas piped up, puffing out his chest in proud determination.
Without another word Malcolm turned and left, slamming the front door to signal that he was gone. Instantly Claire was on her knees in tears, sobbing, grieving for her broken marriage. Lukas collapsed down next to her, the spilt tea soaking up into his jeans.
"I'm sorry, Mummy," he said softly, using an endearment he hadn't said in years. "How about I make more tea for us?" he asked sweetly and Claire smiled at him, his question chasing away her sorrow.
She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly and giving thanks for her wonderful little boy, speaking softly close to his ear, "Yes, dear one, let us have some tea."
