Arella glanced uncertainly across the table at the gathered monks of Azarath, and their spiritual leader, Azar herself. They had brought her here to Azarath to protect her shortly after she'd been abandoned by the...creature that the cult she'd once belonged to had summoned. They had promised her both protection and hiding...but also told her about what was to come. Her newborn daughter, young Raven...she was destined to bring ruin to both realms as her father's 'gem', the key to open the portals that would let him conquer both realms and exterminate all life there.

It had been a lot for Arella to take in. Accepting that the beast that had sired her daughter was evil? Not that hard to wrap her mind around. That he planned to use her daughter for such awful things? Again, easy to believe, and in line with many of the things she'd read of creatures like that...and before she'd felt the child growing inside her, something she almost welcomed as happening to the world at large.

...she never claimed to be a saint. She had willingly joined a devil worshiping cult that was actively trying to summon the devil, after all.

No, the hard part was what Azar and the monks proposed as a way of countering this oncoming threat. She would not get to raise her own daughter. Raven would instead be raised by Azar, and taught absolute control and suppression of her emotions. The reason for this was two-fold. One, her magic was strongly tied both to her emotions and to the concept of emotion itself. Not only would losing control of her emotions cause her to lose control of her magic, there was a very real chance she might one day develop the ability to directly manipulate the emotions of others with her magic, which might make her even more of a threat to life as it was known than her demonic father. Two, if she did form emotional connections to others, those would become points of leverage that Trigon could use to force her to submit to his will and allow him through to conquer the realms.

Arella really did not like this idea...but she couldn't see any other way. The worst part was...the monks - and even Azar herself - were not dictating this as terms. No, this was simply the plan they had laid out for how to try and fight Raven's destiny as they sat here discussing it, shortly after Raven's birth - as soon as Arella had recovered from the delivery, in fact - but it would still be Arella's choice. They would not force her. If she could provide another way to help prevent Raven from being the key her beast father used to conquer all realms, they would gladly pursue it...but Arella had no ideas. Despite her misgivings and how much the discussed plan felt wrong to her...she knew she could not give Raven an upbringing that would let her fight her father. Arella knew nothing of magic and next to nothing of demons.

Sighing to herself, closing her eyes against what she was consigning her daughter to for her own good - gods above, she'd always hated when her own parents used that phrase about her, what had she become - she opened her mouth to give ascent.

"That's got to be the stupidest load of dragon shit I've ever heard!"

Arella jerked back in surprise at that harsh, scratchy voice, her eyes flying open as a short, scraggly haired, ancient looking crone turned from a nearby market stall and stumped up to the table, a basket on one arm, a shawl covering most of the rest of her, and her eyes boring like gimlets into everyone around the table.

"Ma'am," Azar spoke up calmly yet politely, "it is rather rude to interrupt a private conversation-"

"If you didn't want people sticking in their two cents, you should have held it privately!" the old woman interrupted irritably. "And if you were going to put the guilt of consigning a girl to such a fate on her mother, you should have given her all the information!"

Azar's frown deepened. "We have covered all pertinent information-"

"Did you tell her Trigon was born from when your people stupidly got the idea of excising all so called 'evil' aspects of your souls and toss them into Limbo?"

Arella jerked back from that declaration. "They what?" she demanded, shocked.

The old woman smirked contemptuously at the monks. "All pertinent information, huh?" she demanded coldly. She then turned to Arella. "That's right. Couple centuries back, these people got the brilliant idea to use magic they barely understood to excise everything they didn't like about themselves out of their very souls - and the soul of their people as a whole, heaven forbid their children develop like that on their watch - and tossed it out into the void between dimensions thinking it would just poof away and not be their problem anymore." She snorted derisively. "Course, the void between dimensions is just chock full of the energy of potential, and they'd just tossed everything they thought of as 'evil' into it...and the end result was all that 'evil' fusing with the concept of 'evil' through the shared qualities - same race, after all, and same spell - and became Trigon-"

"Please do not say that name so freely-" Azar began worriedly.

"Do I look like a Rowling to you?" the old woman interrupted harshly. "You had your chance to pitch your sale, now hush!" She ignored the leader's offended expression and turned back to Arella. "Well, now that you know this lot ain't as 'enlightened' in their ways as you thought, ready to hear why their plan is stupid?"

"Absolutely," Arella agreed immediately. "I...I want the best for my daughter, whatever her origin."

The old woman nodded, her smirk turning pleased. "First off, if she doesn't form emotional connections to people, what possible reason would she have to want to fight Trigon to save the world? No emotions, she'd be little more than a robot obeying orders, meaning whoever yelled at her loudest and longest gets her obedient, and a blood connection opens the door for continuous mental contact. Heck, if he's even the slightest bit clever, Trigon'll be nurturing and kind with her as contrast with how strict and distant this lot is, and she'll want to be his instead! Kids need love, after all!"

Arella nodded firmly. This made a lot of sense, and she wanted her daughter to grow up loved if possible.

"But her magic is tied to her emotions-" Azar began.

"Suppression is not the only control!" the woman snapped out again. "Your way, every time she got emotional she'll end up destroying everything around her when she lost control, which would make her hate herself more, which would make it that much more difficult to control her emotions and magic! What sort of self-defeating vicious cycle are you trying to consign the poor babe to?"

"What's the other option?" Arella asked hopefully.

"Embrace them fully!" the woman insisted, striking the ground with a cane she was suddenly holding. "Experience her every emotion to the fullest in a safe, controlled environment so she knows what they do to her magic - and what her magic does to them - so it can't catch her off guard!" She snorted derisively. "And if her magic can affect the emotions of others, what do ya think suppressing all emotion will do to everyone around her once that kicks in?" Azar refused to meet the glower the old woman shot her way.

"But where can I possibly find such a place for Raven to grow up?" Arella asked despairingly. "This sounds like the ideal solution, but who could possibly help her explore the full extent of her magic and heart in such a way without being terrified - or destroyed - when she does lose control?"

"My son and daughter-in-law are taking their sweet time giving me grandkids," the old woman allowed without blinking. "Was picking up ingredients to make the strongest fertility draught I know to dose their next meal so the next time they got frisky they were sure to conceive..." She glanced away sourly. "Which would probably be about an hour after I got home..." she grumbled a little irritably. "Nothing wrong with a healthy love life and passion, but what's taking so long on the results...?"

Arella blinked in surprise. "And...they will show her proper care and...love?" she asked uncertainly.

The old woman blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly. "Child, if there's one thing young Raven will be certain of growing up in my clan...it will be that she is cherished and loved. Of that you can have no doubt."

Arella swallowed. With all this information, she'd made her decision. It was a painful one - giving up her child - but she was certain it was the right one for Raven. "What is your name, Grandmother?" she asked politely.

"Not a Grandmother yet," the old woman corrected with an amused cackle. "But everyone calls me Grandmama anyway...Grandmama Addams."


Gomez and Morticia sat together happily at the small table, sharing their tea. Lurch stood nearby, ready to fill their cups at a moment's notice. As the handsome, mustachioed man looked longingly at his lovely, pale-skinned, dark-haired bride, she turned a loving gaze back his way. "Gomez, darling..." she began warmly.

"Yes, Morticia mi amore?" he responded just as warmly.

"Do you think we're ready to consider...having children?" she asked gently.

Gomez gasped in surprised glee. "My love, what a wondrous idea! Our grand home is more than large enough, and I believe we are certainly ready to start considering-"

"Congratulations!" Grandmama stated bluntly as she plopped a blanket wrapped bundle on the table between them. "You're parents!" With that, she stomped off to the stairs to head for the attic.

Gomez, Morticia, and Lurch all leaned in close to the blanket wrapped bundle, seeing short purple hair, pale skin, sleepy purple eyes, and a crimson gem embedded in the forehead. "Well...that happened faster than I expected," Morticia observed in amusement.

"She takes after you, my dear," Gomez observed, comparing the little girl's skin tone to Morticia's. "She'll be a grand beauty one day."

"So she shall," Morticia agreed as she lifted the infant to her chest, holding her gently to her bosom as Lurch pulled a bottle of dragon's milk from his suit and handed it to her, already the perfect temperature for feeding. "Drink up-"

"Her name's Raven!" Grandmama shouted from halfway to the attic.

"What a perfectly beautiful gloomy name," Gomez crowed happily.

"Indeed," Morticia agreed, happily feeding the little one in her arms. "Drink up, Raven. You have a wonderful life ahead of you..."