Ted's head swung wildly from side to side as they walked through Fillory on the way to Castle Whitespire. The awe of seeing the fantasy world that his son idolized brought to life before his eyes was interesting to watch. Eliot had grown a bit immune to the whimsy of Fillory. The realities and the politics of ruling had soured him to flying forests and talking animals.

"Why does the air smell like that?" Ted asked.

Eliot let out a laugh as he glanced over his shoulder, "Oh yeah, fun fact, there's opium in the air here. It's low level, shouldn't affect you too much. But it does help to make things here that much more bearable than on Earth."

Ted stopped and looked around him, "Opium? Huh…that's not in the books."

Eliot nodded, "the sheer amount of stuff that goes on here that's not in the books would stagger the imagination."

Ted pointed behind him at the forest they'd just walked through, "The clock, that was the actual clock from the books, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, Q and I found it in a god's house in Vancouver."

Ted shook his head, "Sounds like my son's done a lot of amazing things that I don't know about. He's grown up a lot in the last few years, I could see it last time he visited me. When he talked about the life he'd lived on the quest, having a son, growing old…I guess if all that really happened he's actually older than his old man. He's obviously done more with his life than I ever did."

Eliot's breath caught in his throat and he went very still. His eyes slipped closed and he saw the cottage they'd shared in that other timeline, the place where they'd lived together for fifty years. He heaved a deep breath and found his voice. "He told you about that," Eliot asked shakily, his eyes still shut as he focused on the scene in his mind, "the mosaic?"

"Mosaic?" Ted responded confusedly, "No, he didn't say anything about a mosaic, just that he'd lived a whole life, had a son, a family, grew old." He studied Eliot, watching him as he seemed to struggle to regain his composure.

"It was you wasn't it? You were there with him, you grew old with him."

At last Eliot opened his eyes, the image of his life with Q fading in the Fillorian sun. He focused his gaze on Q's dad and saw the questions there. He shook his head hard dislodging black curls and sending them down to shield his expression. "We should really get to Quentin."

Eliot turned on his heal and began to walk as fast as his long legs would carry him towards Whitespire. He could hear Ted behind him huffing as he struggled to keep up. Fathers…Eliot had such terrible luck with them. He could never abide his own, even when he wasn't screaming at him and making him feel like he was wrong. Talking to him had never been an option. Quentin's dad was different; he could see that, feel it. He knew in his logical mind that there wasn't any hate or censor behind Ted Coldwater's prying questions. But they hurt just the same. His defense mechanisms warned him to tread lightly, stay distant, not to reveal anything.

And besides, that part of his life, with Quentin, there was a sacredness to it that he was loath to share. Not to mention the fuck up afterwards when he'd told Quentin he didn't want him. Fate had been kind and brought them back together. Quentin had given him a second chance. And he hoped to hell and back that he could make this relationship work without fucking up again.

"I…I didn't mean to pry, Eliot," Ted Coldwater said breathlessly as he caught up to him on the road. "I'm just trying to learn more about my son, to connect with him."

Eliot risked a glance at the older man through the veil of his long hair. He looked like a man out of time. Eliot took a deep breath and thought of the news the man wanted to tell his son, the celebration he wanted to have and the life he would now get to lead with cancer no longer his death sentence. He thought of the joy that would fill Quentin at learning of his dad's cure.

"It's just," Eliot began, "I'm not very good with…fathers. I don't know how to…things are complicated…and a bit fucked…and I really can't explain. Quentin…he'll be so glad to see you though," Eliot stumbled over the words uncharacteristically. Ted seemed to accept the explanation, however, and they fell into an easy silence as they joined the main road and found the castle looming up in front of them.

Eliot pointed out a centaur talking to a wombat near the castle gates and watched Ted's eyes go wide. They chuckled together. He remembered Quentin, during those first few times they had made the trip, seeing the light and wonder in Q's eyes had been such a gift. He'd been with Alice then, though their threesome had thrown a wrench into things. Eliot had done his best during those early days in Fillory to keep his impure thoughts about Q to himself. He'd failed on more than one occasion.

His steps quickened as his thoughts turned to Q. He'd missed him so much these last few days. As the throne room got closer he found he'd left Quentin's father far behind in the maze of hallways. He rounded a corner and there he was, all clad in black, brown hair falling in his eyes, silver crown sat lopsided on his head. His Q…and he looked glorious.

"El!" He threw himself off the throne in a graceless stumble and hurried towards him.

Tick was bowing, "Your majesty, welcome home."

Q threw a hand around his neck and went up on his toes to place a heated kiss to Eliot's lips. Eliot leaned into it, deepening the kiss as Quentin opened to him. They seemed to melt into each other. Eliot's arms closed possessively around Quentin's waist as the other man's hands tangled in his curls.

Dimly Eliot became aware of Tick clearing his throat behind them. Quentin pulled away first and a soft sound of protest escaped Eliot's lips. "I missed you, Q," Eliot breathed into the space between them. Quentin smiled up at him shyly, "Yeah?" Eliot nodded emphatically, "Yeah."

"I'm sorry I had to call you back but Tick keeps asking me about seating arrangements and menus and napkin colors. I told him unless it was black I didn't know, but..."

"Shhhh, I'm here now," Eliot placated, reaching a hand up to brush at the hair hiding those lovely eyes.

"Excuse me sir," Tick's voice cut in, "this is the royal throne room. I must ask you to identify yourself and your purpose here or I will have you escorted out."

"No, I mean…," Ted stammered from the doorway, "Quentin, it's me. I'm Quentin's father."

"Tick, stand down," Eliot ordered. "I invited him, he's with me."

Quentin was staring open mouthed. Speechless and apparently in shock, still clinging tightly to Eliot.

"Dad?" He questioned weakly. "Uh…um…am I dreaming? I mean…What?" Helplessly Quentin looked up at Eliot for direction.

"You're not seeing things, I promise," Eliot provided helpfully.

"You invited him?" Quentin's eyes still looked unfocused and confused.

Eliot nodded down at him, one of his hands cradling his face, his thumb brushing at the jawline. He watched Quentin's initial shock fade and a look of concern and desperation fill his eyes.

He pushed out of Eliot's arms and took a stride towards his father.

"What's wrong, dad? The cancer, are you…is it back?"

Eliot moved to follow him, calling out, "Q, it's ok…It's not that."

While at the same time his dad covered the distance between them and caught his son in a tight embrace.

"I'm fine, son. I'm fine. The cancer's gone…I'm cured."

"What?" Quentin exclaimed as the two men clung to each other.

"It's true, Curly Q. I'm not dying."

A strangled sob escaped from Quentin as he gasped out, "oh god…oh dad…I can't believe it."

"I know, son. I know. It's a miracle," Ted said through his tears.

Quentin pulled back and looked his dad in the eyes, "It was Julia."

"What?" Ted asked blearily.

"She's a goddess now. I guess she granted my wish."

Ted looked between Quentin and Eliot and chuckled weakly, "I think I've missed a few things."

Quentin let out a laugh and Eliot's heart turned over.

"Majesty," Tick had the audacity to interrupt, "the emissaries are expected to begin arriving in 36 hours and I need decisions on…"

"Tick," Eliot cut him off with a swipe of his hand, "Hold all royal business for now. We need to get Quentin's father settled and comfortable, and they need to catch up on some things. Send a bunny to Josh and tell him I need my royal chef back here. Make sure Fen and Margo get back in time for the banquet as well. I'll make whatever decisions you need me to make tomorrow morning. Until then, you and Rafe can figure it out. We'll be taking lunch in the private dining room in my royal apartments. Do not disturb us."

"But sire," Tick protested.

"Do not disturb us," Eliot repeated firmly.

Tick bowed his head obediently, "Yes, sire."