The phrase, "You get what you give," has no place in a world where destiny decides good from bad before anyone has a chance to prove themselves, and no one knows this better than Garmadon.
Although Lloyd might be giving him a run for his money.
When Garmadon first sees his son, both for the first time, and the first time again ten years later, what strikes him most is how small his boy is. As a baby, Lloyd was tiny, like a bean Garmadon could zip into a pod and carry.
Misako hadn't appreciated the comparison, but Garmadon didn't know how else to describe his son. All babies were small, and next to Lloyd, Garmadon felt colossal. One wrong move, and he was certain that he would break his baby. It isn't a difficult scenario to imagine and one he wanted to avoid at all costs.
It turns out he didn't need to be present in Lloyd's life to cause him pain, but that's a reality he will confront later in a quiet moment, be there any left for him. He has more pressing matters to attend to in the present, like saving his son from the clutches of the Serpentine.
The first time Garmadon sees Lloyd, he's struck with the same thought he had when he first held his baby. Lloyd is small. At ten years old, he's all gangly limbs and spite, curled up and frightened in what could pass as a bird cage. The Serpentine, rocks, and a puffing and grumbling pit of lava stand between them, but the moment that Garmadon sees Lloyd is the moment that everything melts away.
Lloyd can't weigh much of anything, for how easily he is tossed around. There is no way that he has been getting the nutrition he needed—certainly not from the Serpentine. Garmadon wonders about the years before, but he doesn't have an answer and doubts he'll get them by simply asking Lloyd.
A surge of guilt rises within him, but it is masked by another familiar emotion, rage, as he takes off, fighting a path through the Serpentine. It is a merciless trek, fueled with fury that's been brewing for a long time now.
He's been angry for much of the time since Wu found him in the Realm of Madness. He is angry at the Ninja for losing Lloyd, angry at Wu for managing to lose track of him in the first place, all those years ago.
He is angry at Misako for not being with their only child. For all the time that Garmadon spent in the Underworld, he had assumed that Lloyd at least had a mother to look up to, and yet-
The anger he feels at her is miniscule compared to what he feels for himself. If he hadn't been banished in the first place, if he hadn't given in to the voices in his head, if he hadn't gotten bitten back in the beginning…
None of it matters anymore. He must reach his son somehow, and he'll make it right from there.
He tears through the Serpentine, seeing red. He tosses bodies over the side of the stone staircase, left to defend themselves against the lava waiting below. He grabs a spear head with his hands and almost doesn't feel the bite of the blade as it runs down his palms. He has eyes only for his son, who is cast to die.
Garmadon calls his name, feels his heart crawling around in the back of his throat. The Serpentine keep coming, but Garmadon is stronger.
When there are only a few snakes left, Garmadon reaches for his son. After seconds that feel like eternity, Garmadon grabs the long pole that holds the cage at the other end, lifting it until Lloyd can reach for his father himself.
Lloyd is small. Lloyd is tiny. Lloyd fits right into Garmadon's arms and holds onto him with wiry limbs.
Lloyd yells, "Dad!"
And despite the fire and pain and Serpentine slithering by, everything is perfect.
"Son!"
Garmadon has no tears left to cry, but he swears the next few breaths are the stuttering starts of a sob. He wants to look at his son—his boy—but he can't bring himself to pull back from the hug Lloyd keeps him in.
A lifetime has passed in the ten years that Garmadon has been absent in Lloyd's life, and at no point does it truly feel more like an absence than in that moment. Lloyd is simultaneously so much bigger yet still incredibly small.
At long last, Garmadon pulls back just enough to look Lloyd in the face. His cheeks are hollow, no doubt from his stay with the Serpentine, but Garmadon wonders and is terrified that Lloyd has always had that emptiness.
"I-" he says. There are so many things he wants to say, I love you; I'm sorry. What comes out is, "Are you hungry?"
Lloyd blinks in surprise before giving an enthusiastic nod.
"I'll make you food as soon as we get back to the ship," Garmadon says.
It's okay now, he almost says, I'll keep you safe. You don't have to be afraid anymore.
He glances away once to see where Wu stands near their escape route. The rest of the ninja are scattered, with Kai being the furthest out as he chases after the Fang Blade. Garmadon could care less about it despite its importance in stopping the Great Devourer, for he's just found his son.
Everything is alright now.
He carries Lloyd back knowing the boy is big enough to make the trip himself, but this is the first hug he's had in years and it's with his son, for goodness' sakes. He isn't going to let go until he has to.
Lloyd doesn't start squirming until the very end of the trip, when the rest of his friends come into view, and only at that point does Garmadon let him down. Lloyd gives him a smile, and his head barely reaches past Garmadon's waist.
Wu says something to him, but Garmadon can't hear anything, lost in his thoughts.
The first thing Garmadon really notices about Lloyd is how small he is, and for the moments before disaster strikes and Garmadon nearly loses him again, it is all Garmadon can think about.
Everything afterwards places these thoughts almost completely out of his mind as his world flips on its head again, and this happens often enough that Garmadon wonders sometimes whether his life is a snow globe constantly shaken up and down. He finally gets his family back, then destiny steps in and declares them enemies.
As it usually does.
It isn't that Garmadon isn't proud of Lloyd. His first instinct upon seeing the weapons glow around Lloyd was to smile, before he remembered who the enemy was.
So yes, Garmadon has plenty of other things on his mind by the second time he is reminded of how small Lloyd is. This situation is far less dire, and it is when Garmadon learns that while being small might not look like an advantage, there are benefits to such a size.
For one thing, Lloyd is easy to lift. He already knew as much simply from pulling Lloyd to safety, and seeing Kai do the same thing moments later. For that alone he is grateful.
The thing he learns today is that Lloyd might just enjoy being lifted.
This fact is...nice, actually.
A week after the events in the Temple of Fire, Garmadon skulks beneath the shade cast over the side of the Bounty's cabin, trying not to let the brightness of the light bouncing off the Bounty's bright paint bother him too much.
Lloyd sits at his side. It was his idea for the pair of them to eat lunch outside, and Garmadon can't find it in him to refuse anything Lloyd says. So they chow down on several sandwiches, half made by Lloyd, the other by Garmadon.
The peanut butter that Lloyd slathered onto the sandwich like he wanted half the jar on there does not mix well with Garmadon's fangs, and he finds himself struggling to keep up with Lloyd's rapid conversation.
"So how'd they grow?" Lloyd asks.
Lloyd has circled several topics in a matter of minutes, everything from comics to the way peanut butter and pickles don't go bad together. He asks now about Garmadon's extra arms, a subject that he has returned to since the evening of his rescue.
Garmadon swallows (finally) and replies, "Magic."
It is an unenthusiastic answer to a dying conversation, not that it is Lloyd's fault. Garmadon hasn't exactly been the best company as of late, for he has also been weighing subjects since the night of Lloyd's rescue, namely that he will have to fight his son one day.
The reality doesn't seem to have hit Lloyd yet, and Garmadon is inclined to keep it that way. Maybe forever, if such a thing is possible. Garmadon has asked the question of whether he can run from destiny for his entire life, and now that Lloyd is in the picture, he might be more willing to try.
"Did they grow there, or did they appear?" Lloyd asks through a mouthful of peanut butter, "And how do they feel?"
"It was a magically induced transformation that took months to perfect," says Garmadon, though he knows that this is essentially his first answer with more words attached. It is a simpler answer to the real one. "They feel like arms."
"But they're extras!"
"Son," Garmadon looks over and smiles, "I can't explain that part of it to you. Once I had them, it was like I'd always had them. Nothing more to it than that."
"Hm," Lloyd pouts.
Garmadon laughs. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."
With that sentence, his smile fades at the reminder of all the ways he's failed and disappointed Lloyd at this point in his young life, and all the ways that he will fail in the future. It puts a damper over the mood he's trying desperately to keep light, for Lloyd's sake, but he can't stop thinking about it.
Garmadon is in a conundrum. For every night since Lloyd's destiny was laid before them, Garmadon has been debating whether this—spending so much time growing close with his son—is worth it. Usually, the second the thought crosses his mind, he berates himself in the next second, spending the rest of the night wallowing in self-hatred.
Of course it is worth it, he thinks, for how could it not be?
This is his son, the thing he loves more than anything in the world, more than his own life. This is the son he promised to keep safe, to provide a better future for a hard past. Of course it is worth it.
At the same time, the logical part of his brain, a part devoid of heart and feeling reminds him that getting so close to his son will make the inevitable battle between them that much more devastating. Garmadon doesn't know if he is willing to put Lloyd through that. He knows firsthand that it is easier to fight someone if he already hates them, so what will become of he and his son if they continue like this?
Garmadon turns this thought repeatedly in his mind until it makes him sick. There are no answers, none that he can find, anyway.
As Lloyd continues his side of the conversation, Garmadon thinks back to when Lloyd was a baby, when things were simpler. His favorite moments were the days where he was just sitting with Lloyd, whether Garmadon was holding him or lying back with Lloyd tucked flat on his chest. Those moments seem almost like they happened to someone else, a different father with a different baby, but those moments are an awful lot like what Garmadon and Lloyd are doing now: spending time together.
Garmadon can't even enjoy it properly.
He takes a miserable bite of his sandwich and struggles to keep the peanut butter from sticking his jaw shut.
At least Lloyd doesn't have to debate himself. He has been nothing short of elated to follow his dad all around the ship, talking, laughing, like no time at all has gone by, and like nothing will separate them again.
It's a kindness on Lloyd's part, Garmadon suspects, and Garmadon hates himself for his thoughts.
He loves his son, he really does.
"Did you get extra abs?" Lloyd's voice pipes up, and Garmadon blinks as he returns to the present.
He stops chewing. "Pardon?"
"Chest muscles!" says Lloyd, brandishing his fourth sandwich for emphasis, "'Cause of the arms. You have to get more, right?"
Garmadon swallows the last of the peanut butter, though it doesn't go down easy. "Actually," he says, "most of the muscles for the second pair are on my back. There are smaller ones in the front, but I believe they are minor muscles that are supported by the major ones."
"Really?" says Lloyd, frowning as he scrutinizes his father's arms, "How?"
"I can't say for sure," says Garmadon, "and with luck, I'll never have to find out."
Lloyd laughs, but it is subdued as he ponders the arms again. While Garmadon admires his son's curiosity, he is running out of answers for all the questions Lloyd comes up with.
Lloyd says, "Are they as strong as your other arms?"
Thankfully, Garmadon can answer this. "Mostly. They aren't as articulated."
No, Garmadon learned that the hard way, as well. It was a shock to discover that he couldn't write or wield a weapon tactfully with either of his two new hands, but seeing as the moment that he supplied himself with his new arms was the moment he passed the 'no going back' point, he forced himself to learn as much as he could with them until Wu brought him back to Ninjago.
And that was an ordeal on its own.
"So they're weak?"
Garmadon casts his son a sideways glance. "No. They could hold you just fine, couldn't they?"
"I don't weigh much," says Lloyd, quietly.
"You weigh more with those sandwiches in you," says Garmadon, "I could lift you with one of these arms."
"Oh yeah?" says Lloyd, "Prove it!"
Garmadon stands, more than happy to. He holds out his lower left arm, inviting Lloyd to grab onto it. Lloyd shoves the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and clasps both hands around Garmadon's bicep, squeezing hard as he lifts his feet off the ground, hanging there.
Garmadon tilts slightly at the weight but manages to hide it as he lifts his arm into the strongman pose, purposely going as high as he can. Lloyd looks down, smiling as he swings.
"How is that for proof?" says Garmadon.
Lloyd turns his grin on him. "Not bad, Dad. I better hang here for a little longer to make sure."
Garmadon can't stop the chuckle he gives in response, and he lets Lloyd swing a little longer. He notices it again; how easy it is to lift his son, but he notices something else, too. Lloyd likes it.
After a moment, he takes his other hands to support Lloyd under the armpits, swinging him around in a small circle before pulling him up into a hug.
And Lloyd laughs, the most wonderful sound in the world.
When Garmadon sits back down, he decides that of course all this is worth it, and the debate stops there. He doesn't argue over it anymore.
Thank you for reading!