Chapter 3: Chapter 3
Cuteness attaaaaack!
I enjoyed writing this so much, I couldn't stop!
There is little of Lina in this chapter, but there'll be more in the next. Too bad FF only allows for 2 main characters in the header, because here I clearly have 3, but I chose Lina and Xellos for the header because people search by pairings more often, and anyway, I doubt anyone would come here looking for Val-centered mentor fic 8))))
The next day I come prepared, and not only by Lina's explanations yesterday. I have spent the night in the library, which always makes me feel more confident. At first I was really confused with the number of entries for 'child neglect' in Saillun's Great Book Depository, but when I started reading... well, humans clearly have devised much better ways to make themselves miserable than we have ever managed. Some stories actually caused me – the Demon of Demons – to respond in what can only be described as righteous wrath. Honestly, these horrid savage creatures with their misplaced aggression... But then a thought crossed my mind, and I went to look through the 'mental disturbances' sections of a couple of Dragon libraries, those that I could get into without raising much ruckus. Guess what? Not a word! Yet somehow I find it hard to believe that this is not an issue among them. I doubt Val is the first one to suffer, or that Filia is the only offending caregiver in the Dragon world. Knowing Dragons, and how they love to maintain an impeccable facade, they are most likely simply ignoring the issue. Humans may be horrid, but at least they seem to have institutions and laws to combat their disgusting misbehavior. Dragons, however...
Entering the narrow gate of Lina's house garden, I suddenly realise that just a moment ago I exercised some very uncharacteristic behavior: not only did I pay at the shop, but I actually smiled to the boy in charge and left a tip. That's one thing I never do! And the thought that his father, the shop owner, is clearly too lazy to stand at the counter this early in the morning, so he gets his 10-year-old son to cover for him during the inconvenient hours does not bloody excuse me at all! I feel slightly sick.
Inside the house I find Val standing wide-eyed in the middle of the sitting room. He was clearly crossing it, but froze when I entered.
"Hello there," I say with a slightly forced smile. "Why are you up so early? Are you all right?"
He blinks at me in confusion before dropping his gaze and answering, "I'm fine, thank you, Sir Xellos."
Many books state that neglect has negative impact on a child's perceptive skills. I wonder if that is the reason for his delayed answers and the confused look I notice so often around him.
"I don't think Lina is up yet, hm?" I try to sound nonchalant.
"No, Sir."
"Have you had breakfast then?" I ask. It suddenly occurs to me that he probably wouldn't go looking for food on his own.
"No, Sir!" he actually sounds indignant. "I wouldn't, without permission!"
Oh yes baby.
"All right, I give you permission. Let's go to the kitchen and see what we can find."
He eyes me doubtfully.
"This is Madam Lina's house..." he says quietly. I stare, daring him to continue. He does. "I mean, I'm not sure you can give permission... sorry, Sir!"
"It's all right, Val, I'm not angry," that was one thing Lina insisted that I say out loud frequently. Makes sense, after all, he can't tell what I'm feeling, and he has learnt to expect the worst. "You are actually somewhat right, we should normally ask Lina about doing things in her house. But in this case I simply know that she'd give permission, so I can do it for her."
He is still unconvinced.
"How do you know, Sir?"
"Because I've known her for many years."
"But what if you are wrong?"
Looks like he's mustered some courage. I wonder if it's a good or a bad sign. It could mean that he's overcoming his inferiority complex, or that he views me as an enemy rather than a... what was it? Men-tor, right? Or maybe I just read too much.
"Then it's my problem," I shrug dismissively.
"I don't think so," he actually makes a step away from the kitchen door.
"Why not?"
"Because it's me being bad."
It's my turn to blink in confusion.
"Sorry, I don't understand. If I tell you something, and Lina thinks it's wrong, it's me being wrong, not you."
He shakes his head slowly, and I want to disembowel Filia alive. I crouch down to appear less intimidating.
"All right, I understand that it was different at Filia's, but here it works like this: I am an adult, so if I tell you to do something wrong, it's my fault, not yours. Understand?"
He is frowning, and looks indecisive. What the hell is there to decide? All the books say that neglected children respond well to firmly set rules, like bedtime, mealtime, chores timetable and such. Well, I'm giving him a rule! So what's the problem!
Suddenly a door to my right opens and a very sleepy Lina comes in. She's wearing a long and wide many-layered laced night-gown which makes her resemble a wedding cake.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she demands in a slightly nasal voice. This is becoming her everyday greeting for me, really.
"Talking," I shrug.
"Xellos, it's six bloody hours in the morning. Can't you be talking in the kitchen where I can't hear you?"
I open my mouth to tell her that Val wouldn't go into the kitchen, but then an idea crosses my mind.
"I'm sorry, Lina, it's my fault. I didn't realise we were disturbing you." There, let him see that I can take the blame. Damn it, it's all so stupid. "But since you're up, I was wondering if you have left Val anything for breakfast?"
"Of course I have," Lina grumbles, clearly thinking that I'm a freakish fool who completely underestimates her capacity as a caregiver. "Get him some yoghurt from the icebox, and there are cherries on the windowsill. C'mon, Xellos, surely you can find food in the kitchen, you're not that stupid!"
I chuckle.
"All right, go back to bed. I'll make sure we don't wake you up again."
She nods, already drifting off, and closes the door behind her back.
Val looks at me with anxious anticipation. I motion him into the kitchen, finally, and extract his breakfast from the ice-box. Lina seems to be buying lots of prepared foods, which is good in case she's not there for the meal. My own cooking skills are quite notorious.
I make us some tea and settle across from Val to keep him company. He is still very tense, not even beginning to relax, and finally I decide there must be a reason to it.
"Are you all right?"
He gulps nervously and croaks something unintelligible.
"Sorry?"
"You got scolded for me..." he mumbles.
"No, of course not. I got scolded for me."
"But you were right... And I was wrong."
The books all shouted in unison that I should use his own terminology as much as possible, because then it's easier for him to come to terms with things. What shall I say... speaking a foreign language is much easier. After all, I consider myself an educated person and am used to big words. Chopping them for him each time is quite a task.
I sigh.
"Val, do you know what is responsibility?"
"Yes. It means I'm getting grounded for what I do wrong."
I am all of a sudden bloodthirsty.
"No, Val, it's not just you. It's everyone."
"Everyone's getting grounded for me!"
"Noooo," I moan almost forgetting not to wake Lina. "I mean, if I do something wrong, I get grounded for it, too. Not just you. See?"
"But you didn't do anything wrong."
"Yes, I did, I woke her up."
"We both did," he points out quite rationally. Here we come to the difficult part. I read hundreds of pages about it this night, but still, it's a piece of human ethics that's rather confusing for me as a Mazoku. Lina would've explained it better, but I still have to try. After all, I am supposed to understand and believe all the good things I'm telling him.
"You see, I'm an adult, and you are a child. If we do something together, it's my job to see that we do right, not wrong. And so if we do wrong, I am the one to be grounded, not you. Even if we did it together. Understand?"
"But why is it only you?"
"Because I'm the responsible one," I really don't know how to put it in small words.
"And I?"
"And you are a child, you're not supposed to be responsible."
"But I can be?"
"If you like to, but you don't have to," I feel that I oversimplified the concept of responsibility, but I guess it's not bad for starters.
He takes a moment to think, and then comes up with another quite rational objection.
"But you got scolded by Madam Lina for both of us, and I didn't because I'm not supposed to. But now that she's not here, don't you want to, well, er, share?.."
My relief that he'd grasped the idea is shattered into tiniest pieces.
"No, I don't," I say quickly in case he expects me to actually punish him right now. He's got some courage asking questions like that, really. Well, what did you expect, old instigator? His foolhardiness is no different from yours! And I'm sick and tired of this clenching inside me that I get when I notice another thing we have in common. But what am I to say to him?
"Val, it's... this rule is for everyone. It's not like when Lina is here, I'm responsible, and when she is not, I am not. I'm not taking the blame for you because someone forced me to do so. It's just the way it is done. I don't want to ground you."
I wish Lina were here. She's a human, and a woman. She could tell him that she has an instinct not to hurt children, or whatever it is that humans have. Coming from me, it would be a lie, and Lina has emphasised it several times, that under no circumstances am I allowed to lie to him.
"I see," he says and finally starts eating. I feel squashed and happy.
Once he is finished (and dutifully washed all the used tableware) I suggest we go outside to the garden. I only have to say "yes, you may" twice before he agrees. That is, certainly, progress. We have a walk in silence around the orchard, and then settle at an arbour where there is a table and two benches. I decide it's time to reveal my morning shopping loot.
"Actually, Val, I have something for you."
He looks at me with badly concealed suspicion.
"Sir?"
I reach out to my dimensional pocket and extract an album and a box of crayons. I put both on the table in front of him.
"Here."
He stares at the stuff without touching anything. I suppress a sigh and recall what is it I am supposed to say.
"This is for you. You can have it and use it as you like."
"May I touch it?" he manages in a weak voice.
"Yes, you may. You may do anything you like with it."
Patience, Xellos, patience. No need to go on imagining what one can advise one to do with a set of crayons.
He timidly reaches out and slides a finger along the album cover, darting a quick glance at me. I do my best to nod and smile, all the way feeling that an orange wig and a fake red nose would suit me much better than my humble priest's countenance.
He finally masters the courage to open the box with crayons. There are just twenty-four: Lina warned me not to make too generous presents yet, because he'd have a hard time accepting them. He does.
He pulls one out with a trembling hand, turns it slightly in his fingers, reads the name of the colour and the manufacturer. Then puts it back precisely to the same spot where it used to be. Then takes out the next one.
After what seems ages to me, his enchantment wavers and he finally becomes aware of the surroundings.
"Did you say it was for me? Sir?"
So we are back to 'Sir'. We'll have to address it sometime.
"Yes, of course it is for you."
"But wh-"
"Because you're being good." I pat him lightly on the back, and he doesn't shy away from the touch, although most likely it's because of bewilderment rather than trust.
"But I-"
"Good enough for me," I say with a chuckle.
His eyes are somewhat glazed for a moment. Lina insisted that we get him to trust us on the unconscious level first, and persuade him that he isn't bound to turn to evil later, so that we'd be addressing one complicated issue at a time. It seemed rational then, but right now I so want to tell him that he's the best little boy in this whole screwed up world... Ah, well, I'll just have to remember to tell him so when there is a chance that he believes me.
"I, um, thank you, Sir," he says uncertainly.
"You're welcome," I beam, trying to radiate joy (which I basically can do, but not nearly as well as Lina, especially when she's just finished a good dinner). Besides, I kind of expected a stronger gratitude.
He's looking down again, as if he's done something wrong. Maybe there's something I'm missing. Oh, Lord, I'm really out of techniques to get him to talk. Oh, wait, there was one more listed!
I carefully place my hand on his back and start rubbing in circles. I honestly have no idea how it can help, but several books mentioned it, especially those written by women. I guess, it's a female thing, but there's small choice in rotten apples.
It works in a very unexpected way: he starts crying. At first I barely restrain myself from jerking back, but as I continue rubbing, I sense an enormous wave of gratitude spilling out of him in all directions, mine included. Well. Someone's being too bloody reserved for his five years. As he begins sobbing loudly, though, I feel like I should do something. Like hug him or something. Damn it, Lina, where are you? I wrap one arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. I think, 'awkwardly' is the word. He's taking deep voiced breaths and then pushes the air out in short jolts, his face is red and crumpled and very wet. When (if) it ever comes to an end I am going to have a lie-down for three days with a bag of ice-cubes on my head.
After some time he is reduced to sniffs, and I produce a handkerchief.
"Sorry," he mumbles.
"It's all right," I say, hoping that I'm not sounding as strained as I'm feeling.
"It's just- can I really take it? I mean I know you said I can, but I'm not supposed to take presents even if people want to give them..."
"Lina will not mind, if that's your concern," I say as the familiar rage is giving me something to hold onto in this surrealistic situation.
"Uh, but Aunt Filia..."
I must have tightened my grip on his shoulder too much because he actually looks up at me.
"Filia is never going anywhere near you ever again. She is a bloody fool and a monster, and you will not have to obey her for as long as I am alive," I blurt out in a single breath. Something should be done about swear-words. So far both Lina and I have been using them, Val or no Val, but it's generally considered to be wrong, isn't it?
He stares at me for some time while my words sink in. Then he utters just one word:
"Wow."
I can't help bursting out in laughter.
Thankfully, it washes away the aftermath of awkwardness, and Val is smiling too – for the first time since... well, since ever, I guess. As much as would like to have him go on, this thought actually makes me sober up. I have to think of something quickly before he gets preoccupied with something or another again.
"So, why don't you try it?" I nod towards the present.
"Try it, Sir?"
Dammit!
"Well, it's for drawing, you know. I thought you might want to draw something."
"Oh."
"Children do that. A lot. Normally."
I wish I had some practice as a parent to a normal child before taking up this challenge of a boy.
He opens the box and the album.
"What shall I draw, Sir?"
No, I can't do this anymore, sorry.
"Anything you like. And please, Val, please, stop calling me 'Sir'. It's really annoying."
I hope it's not a very harsh reprimand.
"But what should I call you then, ehm, gm, gulp..."
"I told you to call me by name."
"JUST by name?" he exclaims incredulously.
"Yes, just by name. Everyone I like call me just by name. You should, too."
He grins, and I barely refrain from applauding to myself.
"Okay, Xellos," he says with a tinge of mischief.
"There, good boy," I have to smile and nod again. I'm so going to kill someone tonight.
He finally turns to the album, pulls out a crayon and freezes, appearing deep in thought. I decide that I have fulfilled (and probably overdone) my parental duty for today, and anyway, it's likely that he hates it, just as much as I do, when people stare over his shoulder. So I retrieve to the nearest apple-tree and stretch on a thick bough. The sun... slight breeze... chirruping birds... all those cliches work perfectly for me.
In an hour or so I open an eye thinking that Lina is probably up now, and it wouldn't hurt Val to have a second breakfast – he's way too small and skinny, and in the books they say... ah, well. I stretch noisily so as not to startle him, then jump down.
"Any success there?" I inquire from afar. After all, I never show my drawings to anyone, and it could just be the case with him. But it isn't.
"Yes, I'm finished," he calls back, turning the album in his outstretched hands as if fitting it to the surroundings.
"May I see?"
He looks at me in confusion again, then says, "Yes, of course." And it dawns on me. He's not confused because he doesn't understand the question! It's because it's odd for him that anyone would ask his opinion! Somehow, with all the success I had with him today, there's still a long way to go.
I come around the table to his side and glance at the picture. And can't help gaping.
He's drawn the orchard, the orchard in sunlight, a few flowers here, a few there... a robin in the bush. Patches of light on the grass and leaves, the disorganised threads of branches, the tiny bird's curious look... The fathomless indifferent sky above, the small homey spot on the globe, the celebration of life...
I shake myself out of it. Of course, his ways are still primitive, those are just colour spots, he has no idea of perspective or stroke shape or formal composition, but still... it's like I can hear and smell his drawing! The annoying shrinking feeling inside me returns, and it's almost painful this time. I think I could weep, if I could. Instead I gasp.
"Oh but this is fantastic, Val!" I force myself to look away from the picture and at him, as he gives me the all-too-familiar confused look. I pat him on the back. "You are a cool little artist, you know!"
"You like it?" he asks somewhat surprised.
"Of course I like it! It's gorgeous!"
He's blushing in a very gratifying way.
"Have you tried paint?" I ask eagerly. Damn it, I knew he should be a bright kid, seeing who his parents are, or were, but I had no idea he'd actually be gifted. I want it all, now! I want the whole world to recognise his talent!
Well, maybe I should slow down a little. He's still got personal issues to resolve first.
"No, s- I mean, Xellos. I only tried colour pencils at Milgasia-sama's place. He would have a servant give them to me while he was talking with Aunt Filia."
Milgasia... I wonder if they let him out yet... Anyway, he's going to find out Xellos Beastmaster can be grateful without any irony!
I bow down and hug Val, surprising us both.
"I'll bring paint another time and show you how to use it, all right?"
"But that'll be too much, you already gave me these, and-"
"No-no-no-no, I'll just bring my paints and stuff. I also draw for fun, see, and we can just do it together!"
"You do? Oh wow!" he falls silent for a moment, but I know something is coming. Sure enough, "May I see something of yours?"
Oh. Right. I should have expected it. He's a child, I can't rely on his discretion. But then, he needs something to study from, and although my works can never match even this relaxed picture of his in the power of spirit, I'm still meticulously good at all the formal aspects of drawing, like composition, perspective, proportions... And I so itch to teach him... And, after all, a refusal would discourage him too much, and I really hate doing it... Watching how his face falls at my obvious reluctance makes me want to hit myself on the head!
"All right," I finally say in a very serious voice. "But you'll have to promise not to tell anyone what's on those pictures."
His eyes widen, lighting up once again.
"You mean, it's some kind of a secret?"
I nod gravely.
"And you're letting me in on it!"
"Yes. But I expect you to be silent about it."
"WOOOW," he breaths, face wide with the grin. Then, gaining his Dragon-trained composure, he pronounces, matching me, "I promise I will never tell anyone."
"Good, it's settled then," I wink. I think he really won't.