Eliot stood outside the modest suburban home in Brooklyn and stared hard at the door. If he concentrated enough he could make it open with his mind, one of the joys of being telekinetic. Right now though he'd settle for the will to knock on the door. He hadn't had very good experience with fathers, especially those related to people he'd shared a bed with.
When the message from Quentin's father had come Eliot had wanted to ignore it…but what if it was an emergency. What if his dad was dying…he did have cancer…or he had cancer. And with Quentin in Fillory and unable to be reached by traditional means Eliot had decided to find out what the issue was if he could. After all, as High King, it was his responsibility to decide what the others focused on. And he supposed it was his responsibility to find out if everything was ok with the family of someone he cared about.
Eliot reached out his hand and timidly knocked on the door at last. A man with graying hair and a round face answered.
"Yes?"
"Are you Ted Coldwater?" Eliot asked.
The man nodded. Eliot stuck his hand out gracefully for a handshake. "I'm Eliot Waugh, Quentin's friend."
Recognition lit up the older man's eyes and Eliot caught a flash of Quentin in them. "Oh yes. Is everything alright? I sent a message to Quentin at school, but I didn't expect to meet any of his friends."
"Quentin is in Fill…indisposed," Eliot covered quickly. "I thought it best to come myself and see if there was anything urgent that he needed to be summoned for. "
He watched Ted Coldwater's eyes narrow slightly as he took his time to process the words. After a moment he nodded, "Yes, of course. I appreciate the thought. Please, come in."
He stood back and allowed Eliot to enter.
Eliot sat on the couch facing Ted, arranging his suit jacket around him fastidiously while trying not to look for pieces of Quentin's childhood in every picture on the walls.
"You go to school with Q, right. I've heard about you. You're the friend who's older than him, right?"
Eliot smiled patiently, "Yes, that's how we met. We were in the same graduate program. Things have been rather busy for both of us lately and I'm afraid school has had to take a back seat."
"Oh yeah, the quest."
Eliot blanched, his hand clenching on his knee, "Quest?"
"Magic's back, right?" Ted asked boldly, "I'm sorry; I guess I shouldn't know about this, but…well…you're a magician too, right? Like Q?"
Eliot narrowed his eyes and swallowed, "Ah…Well…," he closed his eyes and shook his head in an attempt to clear the brass band that was suddenly playing in his ears.
"Is something wrong," Ted asked.
"So much," Eliot deadpanned. He opened his eyes to find Quentin's warm brown gaze staring back at him with concern, he blinked again and realized this was where his Q had gotten those expressive eyes. He took a deep breath and thought of floppy brown hair and that little bow of a mouth that smiled so rarely, but was the greatest gift when it did.
"What exactly has Q told you?" Eliot asked delicately.
"Well, he doesn't talk to me a lot about it."
"Thank God," Eliot exhaled softly.
"But he did lay out a few things. He told me magic was real and demonstrated on a model airplane that had broken years ago when he was a boy."
Eliot's eyes widened.
"Then he told me about his school, Brakebills, and about his friends, you included. A few months ago he talked to me a little bit more about it. Told me that place from his books...Fillory…was real, and that he'd sat on a throne, met the gods. Told me he was working with his friends on a quest to bring back magic. He wanted to tell me in case my cancer returned because of what he was about to do."
Eliot gripped his hands on his knees and tried to slow down his heart rate, "Oh….is that all?"
Ted nodded. He seemed to be studying Eliot, the patterned tie, the waistcoat, the pressed pants, suit coat. Eliot felt as if he was being weighed and measured. He smoothed a wrinkle in the fabric of his pants. "Mr. Coldwater, do you have any alcohol? I could really use a drink."
Quentin's father actually chuckled at his request. "Q did mention that you have quite the appetite for fancy liquor. I don't have much, mostly beer, and no offense but you don't strike me as the beer type. I have some whiskey."
"That sounds perfect."
A few minutes later Eliot was downing a glass of whiskey while trying to figure out how to talk to Ted Coldwater.
"How is Quentin? Is he well? He's not…well…too depressed? I mean when you said indisposed, well…you know he's been institutionalized before?"
Eliot set the glass down on the coffee table with a clink, "Quentin is perfectly…Quentin. Not exactly not depressed, but functional and fine…at least he was when I last saw him. He is most certainly not institutionalized…well…I suppose governing can be its own form of institutionalization. But hopefully the fairies won't give him too much trouble. And if he just stays out of the throne room as much as possible and listens to Tick and Rafe he should be fine without me…really…he'll be fine...," El reached for the glass again and downed the rest of the whiskey.
Ted Coldwater had sat up straighter and was looking at him with a sharp expression, "He's in Fillory then?"
Eliot nodded and flicked his gaze towards the whiskey decanter. A hand gesture sent the decanter moving towards the coffee table. He caught it smoothly, refilled his glass and set it down with a heavy thump. "And yes, I'm a magician too."
Quentin's father looked a bit awed; perhaps things were going better than he thought. He admitted that was a bit showy, but he hadn't been expecting to give a demonstration of magic on the spot. He'd had to improvise a bit.
Eliot leaned back a bit and crossed his legs, taking a sip of the whiskey to calm himself. He gestured with the glass in Ted's direction, "This is against the rules. You shouldn't know about us. Quentin…well…he…," Eliot sighed and shut his eyes, "well, he just shouldn't have."
"He did think I was dying. I think that might have played a part in his decision to reveal everything to me."
El nodded, "Yes, the darling boy was trying to connect with his dear old dad one last time. And we were going through a lot of drama…so I suppose we can just move on. And whose rules are they really…Brakebills? The order? None of it really matters all that much anymore. And honestly Mr. Coldwater, I've never been one for rules anyway," he gave the older man a conspiratorial wink.
Ted chuckled at him again, "Yeah, Q said that about you as well."
The man cocked his head and studied Eliot, "You never thought about telling your parents? They don't know about any of this?"
Eliot laughed harshly, "God, no. Why would I give those homophobic, white trash, assholes more ammunition to use against me? They're out of my life and the less they know about me the less hate they can spew."
Ted shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, son. I didn't know."
Eliot waved it off with an elegant hand.
"What was it you needed to speak to Q about?"
"Oh, well…it's just that I knew that magic had returned, but…my doctor says I'm still in remission…pet scans are clear. I'm still cancer free."
A small grin curled Eliot's lips, "That's wonderful, Mr. Coldwater. Maybe a certain god granted a wish for Q after all."
Quentin's dad flashed him a smile that reminded him so much of his son. "Yeah, maybe. That would be something wouldn't it? Anyway…I wanted to have a little celebration, a small family party. I know Quentin's not big on parties, but I thought maybe…since magic was back…it might be nice for him to bring his friends, or any…uh…," he looked pointedly at Eliot, "anyone he might be dating."
Eliot studiously focused on not allowing his jaw to drop open. "Uh…," he cursed his whiskey soaked tongue.
"It wouldn't be a big party. Just a small gathering with the two of us and whoever Quentin wants me to meet; if he wants me to meet anyone." Again Eliot felt like he was the target of Ted's gaze.
"Well, I've met you already," Eliot replied in a hushed tone.
"And Quentin doesn't know you're here," Ted stated plainly.
Eliot dropped his eyes to the drink in his hand, "No. I had to go back to Brakebills to take care of some business, but there are so many problems in Fillory now that magic's back. There had to be a king there. Our other friends were all occupied and Quentin said…Quentin said he could handle it. He wanted to do this for me. And I could see that he needed me to trust him. I've left the kingdom with Fen and Josh, why wouldn't I leave it with Quentin? He's so much more…more…well, just more than they are." His hand reached up to wipe his brow. Why was he saying all this now? This was so off topic. He trusted Q, of course he did…But his dad was sitting here in front of him studying him like a book, making accusations with his eyes. And well…Eliot hadn't felt so uncomfortable in a long time…well, at least since the fairies.
"Are you and Q…together?" The question was spoken calmly and evenly. It was just a simple question, with no venom or malice behind it. Nothing like he expected of a parent. His parents would've hurled the question with the force of battle magic.
But no matter the gentleness in the man's tone it was not Eliot's place to out Quentin to his father. He had no idea if the man knew his son's sexual preferences were not entirely straight or if he would care that his son was dating Eliot instead of Alice.
Eliot gave a slight shake to his head and picked at a stray thread on the couch, "Uh…Mr. Coldwater, I really think this is a question you should ask Quentin. I don't want to be responsible for…uh…things that should be said between a father and a son."
Ted nodded slowly in understanding. "He talks about you a lot. The things he says…the way he says them…I can tell he really cares…I can tell you're special to him."
Eliot swallowed hard and let a small grin creep onto his face.
"For the record, if you are together…I'm ok with it. I just want him to have the best chance at happiness that he can have."
Eliot's grin widened of its own accord.
Suddenly a bunny dropped onto the coffee table between them.
"Diplomatic banquet."
"Holy shit!" Ted exclaimed. Another bunny appeared.
"No way! Help!"
Ted rose from his chair, "What was…?"
Another bunny fell out of the air and landed next to the others.
"Love, Q."
Ted's wide eyes found his and Eliot let a smile spread across his face.
"What if I could help you celebrate, Mr. Coldwater? How would you feel about a little trip?"
"To Fillory? To see Q?" Ted asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
Eliot nodded back at him with a conspiratorial wink.
"Well," Ted began carefully, "I think that would be something. It would be an adventure, wouldn't it?"
"It most certainly would, sir. Though I must warn you Fillory isn't all rainbows and roses…it's a bit grimier and third world than the story book version of things. And ruling it is a real motherfucker. But overall it's a very nice holiday away from this stifling existence on earth. And I throw one very satisfactory party," Eliot bragged.
"Speaking of which," Eliot turned his attention to the three bunnies staring up at him. "Really…A three bunny message and none of you bothered to check for muggles before you go all Chronicles of Narnia."
"Fuck you," said the first bunny.
"Hey, I am your high king show a little respect. Also I'm out of cigarettes so I really hope Q paid you already."
"Fuck you," the rabbit said again.
"Ok! I'm sorry." El turned towards the other two rabbits on the table, "Would one of you mind taking a message back to King Quentin for me?"
The last bunny who'd delivered the message of love gave a little half hop forward.
"Thank you, dearest. I appreciate it. You have an invitation to the diplomatic banquet that I'm returning to plan. I'll make sure there are plenty of cigarettes there for you." He reached for the rabbit and picked it up. Eliot whispered his message to Q in its ear, "Coming home, bringing surprise." With that he stood and dropped the rabbit into oblivion.
"That's the strangest thing I've ever seen," Ted said from his place by the chair. "What is it, some kind of magical texting?"
Eliot chuckled, "Yeah, something like that."
"Come on, Mr. Coldwater, let's go rescue your boy from party planning hell."