A/N: Hello. Yes, this chapter is coming almost a month later than usual. Outside of stress from real life, medical issues and... possibly-getting-addicted-to-Little-Witch-Academia... this chapter took a while to formulate. But after a bit of pushing through my writer's block, I think I've figured out how I'm going to handle this episode now, so... let's get into it.

As many of you have correctly guessed, we are now at Episode 17: Wing It Like Witches. And as others have also correctly guessed, Lizzie is going to be in Plot B shenanigans once again and get caught up in the silly little grugby match between Lilith and Eda. However, much like with Episode 13, 14, and 15, what happens between Lilith and Eda is going to take a bit of a side-plot, because we are once again going to delve into the original content surrounding Lizzie and her relatives. Now, originally, the beginning chapter was going to be a repeat of Chapter 37 and be split between Xander's and Lizzie's scenes. But I ultimately decided to take a different path, meaning for the first time in this fic, this entire chapter is going to be dedicated primarily to my other OCs outside of Lizzie, with Lizzie's current situation being introduced in the next chapter instead. It would have gotten too crowded if I'd tried to expand on the situation you're witnessing here in Lizzie's section, so expect further explanations to come in the following chapter. Though I will still be making comments where applicable about some of the stuff I've mentioned at the bottom of the chapter, so stay tuned for that.

Either way, thank you so much to those who have favourited, followed, reviewed and read this story. Your continued support is greatly appreciated. I'll try to get Chapter 55 done as soon as I can, though I can't make any promises because I still have Ghost of a Kind to get to and I haven't even had chance to start the latest chapter for that yet... XD Though I will remind you all that this fic is also on AO3 too, so if you want to read it or follow it over there, by all means. In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy the little sneak peeks I've given you into my other OCs.


Chapter 54: A Cage in Common

Another fine early morning greeted the town of Bonesborough on yet another brand-new day on the Boiling Isles, welcoming residents of all species and sizes with its warm and glowing golden rays as it slowly rose over the horizon. This also applied to the street where the Blackwood residence was located, the front of its building and its cobbled pathways soaking in the golden sun amidst patches of shadows cast from the buildings nearby.

From inside the bedroom of Xander Blackwood, the mentioned witch was busy preparing for the upcoming day, having changed into most of his coven scout uniform barring his cloak and mask, the latter two items of which were laid out on the bed next to him. He was currently occupied with straightening out his shirt, his belt and then his gloves, the medical eyepatch he usually wore secured around his injured eye for the time being. With his task complete, Xander released a small huff and gave the open doorway to his room a quick glance, his one-eyed gaze fixing on the floor for a few seconds with a squint.

It had only been a couple of minutes since Xander had sent Bandit to scope out the first floor of the Blackwood residence for any sign of Ulritch, whom the younger Blackwood always aimed to avoid during the early mornings so he could eat his breakfast in peace. It usually wasn't difficult due to his regimented working schedule as a coven scout, yet there were times where his old man would twist his own working hours to suit his needs, especially if a harsh lecture awaited him. And naturally, Xander was often left in the dark until he found himself ensnared in his father's trap with no way of backing out of it, a fact that both scared and infuriated him. This was why Bandit's stealth skills were such an asset to him both as a coven scout and when he was at home. Avoiding Ulritch's disappointed and cold stare and calculating brain had become so much easier with his little buddy around to back him up, more so whenever his aunt and uncle managed to step in as extra support.

However, Xander hadn't heard any sign of the little ferret palisman since he'd scurried across the hallway floorboards and down the stairs leading to the ground floor. He could feel a lump beginning to form in his throat the longer he stared at the empty space in front of his door, prompting him to give his neck a quick rub with his gloved hand to ease his oncoming nerves.

"Where is he?" he wondered under his breath, eventually stepping closer to the bed to collect his cloak. "Surely, it doesn't take that long to peek into the first floor and then report back."

Then again, he was probably just being paranoid, he thought. After all, he was aware he'd started excessively worrying about Bandit since the day Brutus had covered the little guy in bite marks—

Thump.

Xander jumped and moved a couple of steps backwards at feeling the toes of his boot catch something underneath him, his startled and one-eyed gaze immediately lowering to a loose floorboard beside his bed that had since become askew.

"Ugh," Xander quietly groaned and rolled his eye to the ceiling upon realising what he'd done, not at all surprised by the sight of the loose floorboard. "Watch what you're doing, Xander," he grumbled to himself as he crouched beside the opening, reaching out a gloved hand to grab the floorboard and move it back in place. "You can't afford to be—"

Streaks of morning light shining into the darkness of the rectangular hole highlighted the top corner of a photograph that depicted familiar straight and shoulder-length brunette hair, pausing his hand just above the piece of wood.

Xander instinctively swallowed as his throat started to dry up, his brain telling him to put the floorboard back and pretend he hadn't just seen it. And yet, he couldn't ignore the stinging in his chest that blossomed the longer he stared at the photograph's corner, the temptation to unearth it from the darkness and hold it within his grasp once more slowly eating at his insides.

When was the last time he'd glanced at that picture, he wondered. Probably not since he'd hidden it in there, which Xander was sure was around thirteen years ago at least. An arm wrapped round his stomach when uncomfortable churning took hold, the vague recollection of that life-shattering night brimming to the surface of the mental pools of his mind—the yelling, the screaming, the dancing of orange flames, the pungent smell of burning paper, the crying, his crying.

But worst of all, it marked the very first time Xander had lied to the man he was supposed to call his father. The man who, through wisps of scattered grey and with furious green eyes alighted by the flickering flames before him, had demanded Xander rid himself of the remnants of the one who had abandoned them, who had abandoned him without warning or reason. Xander had told Ulritch not long after that he had done that, and yet for reasons unknown to him—possibly denial, he assumed—he'd disobeyed the one who had reassured him he wouldn't leave him as long as he became the son he wanted him to be, taking the cowardly route to hide this from his father's eyes due to his own weakness. And now here he was, thirteen years on, still unable to cut the strings from the only undamaged picture left of someone he was supposed to hate, someone who had betrayed his love and left him alone in the clutches of a monster, a monster he was too dependent on because of his biological need for his approval and love.

But each time the fleeting thought of throwing that picture away dared to cross his mind, he became winded, his chest constricting to the point where it felt like someone was squeezing the air from his lungs. After all, that picture hadn't come into his possession until after they'd vanished, and Xander had known even from a young age that his father was a liar and good with deceit. If they had abandoned him… why would they have given him this?

The longer his green eye focused on the item concealed within the darkness under the floor, the more he realised that this was the first time he'd actually pondered on this matter and given himself a moment of self-reflection. No doubt Elisabeth was to blame for that, he concluded bitterly. Since their awkward interactions between themselves, the Bat Queen and the basilisk, he hadn't been acting right. Though, now that he thought about it a little more… didn't this go further back than that?

The only reason Xander recalled knowing about his little cousin's return to Bonesborough was because of Warden Wrath complaining about her being with the Owl Lady when she'd orchestrated a random raid on the Conformatorium. That was the only time Xander had informed Ulritch of Elisabeth's suspected return, which then led to his father's annoying and persistent efforts to force Xander to find her and try to up his rank to give him more authority to be able to do so. From there, Xander had kept his father out of the loop with the later encounters he'd had with her, from Covention, to the palismen incident, even his stalking of her in Bonesborough and their unexpected encounter on his day off.

He liked to believe he'd done so to prevent his old man from giving him a headache and making his life difficult again, just like he'd done during his days at Hexside. Though when comparing his issues with Elisabeth to his issues with his photograph… maybe he had always been a conflicted soul. After all, in the words of his cousin on the day she'd ended their friendship:

"You shouldn't be fighting for his love and admiration," he muttered through a heavy sigh, his one eye finally lowering to the floor along with his head. "But I suppose it's easy for her to say such things when she's always had unconditional love…"

Loud and familiar high-pitched screeching sounded from the ground floor and penetrated Xander's train of thought, causing his blood to run cold with the sudden raise of his head.

"Bandit…!" The name breathlessly slipped from Xander's lips upon instinct, the sweat already beginning to gather on his forehead.

The sounds alone were already conjuring dreaded mental pictures into his head of the little palisman writhing around in agony without him needing to see what was happening, trapped within the jaw of his father's salivating coyote palisman—

"Tch!"

Hissing through his teeth and melting his shock away with a scowl, Xander slipped the floorboard back into place, leapt to his feet and sprinted out of his bedroom, charging from one end of the hallway to the other with thudding footsteps. He had little concern for covering his tracks right now, the adrenaline pumping through his veins and pounding his pulse within his ears currently acting as his guide and leading him towards his distressed friend.

He had a feeling he knew why this was happening, that Ulritch had likely caught on to his tactics to avoid him and thus was using his ferret palisman to bait him out for a scolding he believed he deserved. The assumption, though, did little to stave off the anger boiling in his blood and the shroud that had covered his common sense, his one-eyed gaze locked on the top step of the stairs the closer he gained to his destination. It never ended well when he retaliated or stood up to his old man, but right now he didn't care, even if he probably should have. Bandit needed him, his panicked and pained screeches being the only noises his ears seemed to want to focus on.

However, as he reached the top of the stairs, a brown blur darted across his path. Xander gasped loudly and dug his heels into the wooden floorboards to bring himself to a halt, only to stumble backwards and crash to the ground with a startled cry. He landed on his bottom and momentarily cringed at the stinging impact with the wood, his mask slipping from his grip and clattering beside him. But he was soon looking up at the familiar tweeting that followed, his lone eye blinking widely at noticing a certain nightingale palisman lowering itself to him and then perching on his left knee.

"Caprice…?" he mumbled with a faint frown, his head soon turning to the door on his left at hearing it creak open.

Allard, dressed in his daytime clothes, emerged from the other side of the door and stopped beside his nephew, causing Xander's shoulders to tense when he stared down at him from his father's height with a stern frown. For a few seconds, the young witch shrunk under his uncle's gaze, naturally assuming the worst. But upon registering his nephew's reaction, Allard's expression softened slightly with the lifting of his index finger to his lips.

"Stay put," Allard instructed in a whisper, lowering his finger and turning to the stairs soon after. "I'll handle this."

Xander watched with a blink as the older blonde calmly strolled past him, his focus briefly switching to Nocturne upon hearing the wolf palisman's paws pitter-patter against the bare floor while following closely behind his owner. Once the witch and palisman pair had reached the stairs, though, Xander became distracted by a dainty hand being held out towards him from his left side, the concerned and gentle voice of his aunt sounding the moment his lone eye locked with her pair of brown.

"Are you all right?"

Xander's gaze flittered between Marigold's hand and the calm expression on her face for a few seconds before bringing himself to nod stiffly, a gloved hand slowly and awkwardly reaching out to accept the offered help up from the floor. While he had since become used to the caring and gentle gestures his uncle and aunt offered him whenever they were within the same vicinity, Xander still couldn't help hesitating all the same, even though he knew his uncle and aunt were nothing like his father; another fact he'd since managed to adjust to.

Caprice flapped off Xander's knee with a tiny tweet and flew up to Marigold's closest shoulder once Xander was pulled to his feet, tilting her head as she observed (from the extra inch in height her owner had to Xander) the young witch brush off the backs of his clothes with both hands.

"Sorry for startling you," Marigold apologised with what she hoped was a comforting smile, lifting a finger to give Caprice a few small strokes atop her head, which the nightingale palisman closed her eyes at. "She just wanted to make sure you didn't get within Ul-retch's sight."

Xander's lips twitched with the urge to snicker at hearing his aunt's demeaning nickname for his old man, yet he sucked in a quick breath through his nostrils to stop himself from doing so. He was in earshot of Ulritch at the moment, he remembered. The last thing he needed to do was make the situation worse by going along with Marigold's 'immature' jokes.

"Ulritch," Allard's stern form of address soon drew Marigold's and Xander's attention to the bottom of the stairs, where they could see Allard's back at the bottom with Nocturne stood proudly to his right side.

Bandit's pained screeching simmered down in the meanwhile, prompting Xander to release a quiet sigh of relief and place a hand to his chest with slumped shoulders.

"Ah, good morning, little brother," Ulritch replied in a saccharine tone, something that Xander noticed made Marigold's lips twist, a faint scowl gracing her brow. "Isn't it a bit early for you to be—?"

"What do you think you're playing at?" the younger blonde hissed, making Xander's brows raise with a wide blink.

He didn't know his uncle very well, but from the times they'd interacted he was usually a calm, composed and no-nonsense fellow. So, hearing him sound so nasty, and towards his father no less, was new for him. Then again, hadn't Elisabeth once surprised him the first time she'd spoken to him in a similar way?

"Playing at?" Ulritch repeated with forced emphasis, clearly putting it on too thickly to show he wasn't taking this confrontation seriously at all; Marigold clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes towards the wall at this. "Ally, I have no idea what you're—"

"Don't. Call me. That," Allard slowly spat, with Xander seeing his uncle pointing accusingly after his shoulders squared. "We're not children anymore, Ulritch. I know what you're trying to do. Stop parroting Father and have Brutus release your son's palisman this instant."

A tense pause descended upon the ground floor seconds after Allard's demand rang out, the prolonging silence causing Xander and Marigold to exchange brief sideways glances. It was difficult for them to assess what was going on without seeing Ulritch's face, and for a moment Xander actually wondered if Allard's display of retaliation had actually rendered his father speechless.

But then… loud and mocking laughter from Ulritch shattered the illusion, causing Allard to lower his arm to his side and relax his stance. Xander and Marigold, meanwhile, were left staring at the stairs with slight squints and pursed lips, the pair unsure as to what the older of the Blackwood brothers found so amusing. They soon got their answer, though, upon hearing Ulritch's laughing gradually dying down.

"Hahahaha…! That's it…?!" Ulritch exclaimed breathlessly. "You think you can just tell me what to do and I'll do it?!" He paused for a few seconds to take a couple of deep breaths and steady out his tone once more. "I don't know where that sudden burst of confidence came from, brother, but it looks like your new backbone was just the punchline of a terrible joke!"

"Doesn't change the fact I'm being serious," Allard bit back, sounding unfazed by his brother's mocking. "Xander needs to get to work and you're unnecessarily holding him up because you want to once again rant about his failure to find and apprehend my daughter." Marigold's left eye twitched at the reminder, yet she said and did nothing else as she watched her husband fold his arms across his chest. "Unless you want him to lose the job role you forced him into, you'd do well to stop this foolishness and let him get on his way."

"And what if I don't?" Ulritch taunted, responding as if his retort was already waiting to be released from the tip of his tongue. Xander could mentally picture the smug smile plastered on his old man's face and the hands-on-hips stance he'd likely taken just by his cocky tone alone, both of which Xander knew was common for him. "What are you going to do, Ally?"

Xander swore he heard his uncle's teeth grind at the nickname, spying Allard's hands clenching at his sides and flushing his knuckles white. Just within the peripheral vision of his good eye, the young witch also thought he saw the deep scarlet colour rush to Marigold's cheeks as her body visibly trembled and her eyes stared intently into the back of her husband, looking like a tea kettle on the verge of literally reaching its boiling point.

One look at his uncle's stance and his aunt's current expression was all Xander needed to understand what they were likely thinking in that moment, the pair of them clearly wanting to follow through on calling out his father's bluff. In comparison to Marigold, Xander had come to understand during the times he was in their company that Allard was the voice of reason and the level-headed one of the couple, so if his father was clearly grating his uncle's nerves, then it was only a matter of time before that anger bubbled to the surface. Even their palismen could sense the suppressed tension within their owners—Caprice shuffled over to Marigold's closest cheek and gave it a gentle nudge with the top of her head, while Nocturne padded forward in front of Allard and took on a wide stance across his feet, his tail straightened.

But despite how they looked right now, not a word was uttered from either husband or wife, nor even a flicker of movement from their limbs to draw a spell circle and fire something at Ulritch's face. The pair of blonde witches remained exactly where they were, allowing their ire to silently simmer away like a volcano whose entrance had been blocked by a large boulder. The reason as to why was already obvious to Xander, due to knowing of the current circumstances his uncle and aunt were currently in.

Of course, his father was privy to this information too, yet being the narcissistic jerk he knew him to be, it wasn't a surprise to the young Blackwood when he heard Ulritch continue to snidely make his comments when he felt the silence had been prolonged by Allard long enough:

"You know you and your wife can't do anything without breaking the rules of your house arrest, outside of whatever little tricks you attempt to pull off with your palismen." Immediately upon receiving the unnecessary reminder, Allard turned his head down to peek at his right ankle and lift his foot a little from the floor despite his trousers and shoes covering what he was attempting to see. Xander saw Marigold's expression relax and her shaking stop as she went to copy her husband, his gaze trailing down to her right ankle too. "So, if I were you, little brother, I would stay out of business that doesn't—"

A high-pitched and pained yelp that Xander recognised to be from Brutus interrupted Ulritch, returning Xander's and Marigold's attention to the stairs at the startled gasp that came from the witch shortly after to see Allard relax his stance. His angry demeanour changed almost instantly, as if someone had flicked a switch on the back of his head.

"Oh, believe me, Ulritch, I already know all of that," Allard replied sarcastically. Loud scurrying and a familiar chirp-like bark gained on the stairs, one that Xander easily recognised to be from Bandit. "Why do you think I chose to distract you?"

Everything happened so fast that Xander wasn't even sure what it was his uncle had done. Yet the next thing Xander knew, a black blur darted underneath Nocturne, past Allard and ascended the steps, with neither the mentioned witch nor palisman acknowledging it as it passed them. The young witch showed no hesitation in dropping to his knees and holding out his arms with a relieved sigh and slumped shoulders, allowing his little ferret companion to reach the top step and literally leap into his owner's chest with another chirpy bark.

"Bandit!" Xander exclaimed in a whisper and wrapped his arms tightly around his palisman, with Bandit reciprocating the affection by snuggling the front of his body and head as deep into Xander's shirt as it would go.

Xander swore he felt a brief warmth wash over him that seemed to radiate from Bandit's actions, one of the few good things still in his life that made him feel safe and remind him that there was still some light in his darkened world. Had it not been for the fact that he was around Marigold right now, he would have happily given in at the smile twitching upon his lips, wanting to make itself known.

In the meantime, the young blonde intently let his eye wander across Bandit's fur for any sign of bitemarks Brutus could have left, going ahead to ask his palisman as well for extra confirmation.

"Are you okay? Did Brutus hurt you again?"

Bandit answered with a small flurry of muffled squeaks without lifting his head away from Xander's front, with the young witch sighing quietly and giving the ferret a light pat on the back of the head.

"Good. I'm glad."

His aunt's amused snort broke Xander's attention away from Bandit and drew his gaze to the small smirk now on her face, watching her stare down at Allard's back with a hand to her hip.

"Looks like Ul-retch got a little too big for his boots. He should know by now that Allard doesn't need magic to best him at his own game." She paused to look down at Bandit in Xander's arms, giving the little palisman a wink. "Just his brain and the talents of others."

It took Xander a few seconds to realise what his aunt was getting at, eventually causing him to gasp and whip his head and wide-eyed gaze to his uncle's back. Allard had made use of Bandit's speed, his father's cockiness and his own misleading words to get Ulritch and Brutus to drop their guards enough for Bandit to slip away.

But the young witch was soon furrowing his brows upon feeling déjà vu creep upon him at the vague recollection that came to mind in that moment, the one where he'd confronted Elisabeth and her scruffy looking demon dog companion in that alley, to be specific. She'd faked throwing that explosive potion of hers at him to evade capture after that annoying mutt had distracted him, which he could see was a bit similar to what his uncle had just done. And while he wasn't too surprised by this revelation, it didn't stop his jaw clenching at the thought that this ultimately proved just how much of the Blackwood blood ran through both of the cousins' veins through their differing methods and demonstrations of intelligence.

He utilised his knowledge and dirty tricks to manipulate and deceive others into putting situations into his favour, while Elisabeth utilised her knowledge and the talents of others to work together and find the best solution to gain an upper hand, a fact he knew was proven by their momentary truce during the incident with the basilisk. And those techniques were shared amongst their fathers, to boot. No wonder she was so annoying, he grumpily thought.

For a while, the tense silence that had descended upon the ground floor of the Blackwood home reigned supreme, with neither Allard nor Ulritch making a single sound. Xander couldn't even begin to imagine the current look on his father's face, though he liked to think it had turned so red steam was coming out of his ears, assuming he was silently stewing from being outwitted by his brother and not stuck in silent shock. Eventually, though, Allard was the one who broke it with the loud clearing of his throat and the light tap of his knuckles against his sternum, his next words spoken in a calm yet mocking tone.

"You'd better get going to work, Ulritch. If you continue to wait around for your son to come downstairs, you'll be late."

Several seconds went by before Xander flinched at the echoed thump inflicted by Ulritch's foot stomping against the bare floorboards.

"You're only delaying the inevitable, little brother, just as you always did with Father," he hissed through gritted teeth, prompting Allard to shake his head and cross his arms.

"You only have yourself to blame, Ulritch, as usual. Your life wouldn't be so stressful if you stopped forcing your son to chase after silly rumours surrounding my daughter's supposed return to Bonesborough. He has no business getting involved in a cold case like hers and you know it."

"Well, excuse me for trying to save the face of this family!" Ulritch spat, his voice bouncing between the walls. "Your daughter is a disgrace to the Blackwoods, to Father, just like you—"

"Except my daughter isn't a Blackwood!" Allard stated bitterly and thumped a fist hard against his own chest. "The day I walked out of this house, I became a Redwood, thus Elisabeth became one in turn. What she does with her life is no longer your concern, so why don't you get off your high horse and just admit that you're only doing all of this because you're taking delight in my suffering?!"

Another long and tense pause followed Allard's passionate speech, with Xander catching Marigold's mouth twisting downwards with a deep frown, her expression clearly indicating that she did not believe for one second that Ulritch was going to come out and say that. Heck, even Xander didn't think his old man would. And sure enough, the two blondes were proven right upon hearing the older witch scoff and respond in an even tone.

"Believe what you want, brother, but if you think I'm going to let you brainwash Alexander the same way you did with Elisabeth, then you are sorely mistaken."

A brief pause followed as Xander heard the older witch swirl on his heels and start marching to the front door, the pitter-patting of Brutus' paws following suit. Allard also righted his posture and returned his hands to his sides, appearing to think the verbal spar had come to a close.

"Though it is a shame," Ulritch remarked when his footsteps halted with the creak of the front door being opened.

"What is?" Xander heard his uncle enquire, prompting a forced chuckle to slip past his old man's lips.

"That you're trying to make up for the protection you couldn't give your daughter by giving it to my son," he answered slyly, causing Marigold's jaw to drop and her eyes to almost bulge from their sockets. "Maybe if you'd tried harder to keep her on the law-abiding path, she wouldn't be a criminal running loose somewhere in the isles~."

Allard stayed glued to the spot at the bottom of the stairs as Ulritch's footsteps resumed, only to be cut off seconds after by the slamming of the door, the contact with the doorframe briefly sending vibrations through the floor. Xander didn't dare to move, his lone green eye switching every few seconds between his shellshocked uncle and aunt to await a reaction from them rather than prompt one out of them. Bandit did the same, copying his owner's eye movements upon clambering up to his shoulders.

In the end, after the tranquillity had gone on for a while, Marigold became the first of the couple to snap out of her shock first. With her nose scrunching and a low growl slipping past her lips, the now narrow-eyed middle-aged witch squared her shoulders and lowered her fists towards the floor with a quick stomp of her foot, making Xander flinch a second time and recoil with a startled blink. Caprice also got spooked by her owner's behaviour, quickly flapping up off Marigold's shoulder to hover close to her side instead.

"That cowardly weasel—"

"Mari," Allard addressed his wife calmly, slowly turning to face her from the bottom of the stairs. Marigold fell quiet and slumped her shoulders, yet her husband's intervention did little to remove the anger still present on her face. "Please don't let his words get to you. You know he only said it to get under my skin."

"I can't help it!" she protested exasperatedly and reached her hands up to the front of her head, digging her fingers into her scalp. "He's so childish! And a hypocrite! After all, it's only because he couldn't keep his mouth shut that this is all happening! And for what? Over a silly grudge from his youth?"

Allard's eyes drooped as he slowly made his way back up the stairs, ignoring the steps' creaking and Nocturne's paws trotting up behind him in his wake.

"Getting angry about it isn't going to resolve anything," Allard replied lowly, stopping at the top of the stairs when Marigold groaned and gave her fringe a light tug.

"I know," she grumbled and squeezed her eyes shut. "But he always acts as if his terrible parenting is something to gloat about and be proud of!" She released her hair and opened her eyes while continuing her rant, holding her palms up on either side of her face and waved them about in a sarcastic voice. "It's like 'Hey! Look at me! I control every aspect of my child's life and make him miserable! Meanwhile, you let your daughter do whatever she wants and turned her into a criminal! At least I know where my child is and that he's safe!'"—Marigold briefly stuck her tongue out with a loud 'bleh!' before she returned her voice to normal—"It makes me sick!" Allard's brows furrowed when Marigold snorted and whirled round to face the bedroom, continuing to mutter under her breath while stomping her way back inside the room. "Cocky, good-for-nothing—"

Xander remained silent and watched his aunt's retreat with a faint frown, a hand subconsciously reaching to rub at his chest at the faint ache he could feel had sprouted there as Caprice loudly tweeted and darted after her fuming owner. Feelings like this were common for the young Blackwood whenever he was witness to his uncle's and aunt's chats surrounding his missing cousin, yet as of late, especially after his most recent encounter with Elisabeth, these guilty pains and aches had started to become more frequent. Xander knew it was ridiculous; why should he feel bad when it was his cousin's fault her parents had wound up stuck here with him under his father? But no amount of reassurance ever made the pains go away. It was something he'd since come to learn to ignore.

Allard's sigh drew Xander's attention back to his uncle, whom now had his eyes closed and a hand to his forehead, the slight shake of the head he gave indicating just how defeated the older blonde seemed to be by the antics of his brother. However, when Allard opened his eyes again and caught Xander staring at him, he forced a small smile and stretched out a hand to his nephew's closest shoulder.

"She'll be fine," he quietly reassured, giving Xander's shoulder a gentle squeeze for good measure. "She just needs to get it out of her system."

"… Sure," Xander eventually mumbled with a slight nod. Once Allard had pulled away, however, the young witch placed a hand to the back of his neck and averted his eye to his boots, gulping thickly to work up the courage to offer his gratitude. "And thank you."

Xander was oblivious to Allard's raised brows and wide blink, especially as his uncle's shock only lasted for several seconds. By the time the young witch willed himself to look his uncle in the eyes again, Allard's smile had returned as if it hadn't vanished at all.

"You're welcome, Xander." Allard briefly broke eye contact to watch Nocturne walk past him and inside the bedroom, only to turn away himself before giving his parting words in a low voice. "Don't worry about your father for now. Just focus on getting to work on time."

As Allard started to walk after his wolf palisman, though, Xander felt that spurring ache return to his chest without warning, awakening a strange feeling in him that he couldn't quite describe while he watched Allard's retreating back. He felt his 'thank you' wasn't enough. His tongue tingled with the urge to tell his uncle about Elisabeth, that she was okay, that he'd seen her with the Owl Lady, that he suspected that was where she was. Because he knew his uncle and aunt were not that different from him, that all three of them were prisoners in a cage forged by his own father's making, inspired by the one his grandfather had made before him. They were suffering because of his cousin's mistakes too, and they didn't deserve it, he knew that.

His right gloved hand twitched repeatedly at his side, and right as Allard went ahead to cross the threshold into the bedroom, it shot up with a splayed palm, attempting to stop his uncle in his tracks. Yet within the next few seconds, Xander regained control of himself and snagged his wrist with his other gloved hand, his breath hitching in his throat with the harsh tug he used to bring his outstretched arm into his chest again.

No, he mentally admonished himself and clenched his jaw. He couldn't show weakness. If word got back to his father that he'd lied about not knowing where Elisabeth was

He didn't dare finish that thought.

The click of the bedroom door returned Xander's attention to reality with a quick blink, the door to the room his uncle and aunt currently occupied now closed. The young Blackwood released a quiet sigh and allowed his shoulders to slump, realising his hesitation had once again cost him the opportunity to rid himself of his guilt.

Though why was he even guilty in the first place? It's like his father constantly told him: Elisabeth was the one who attacked him, right? This was her fault and he was paying the price for her mistake.

It took a gentle nudge on the cheek from the top of Bandit's head to prompt Xander to finally turn around and head back towards his bedroom to collect his cloak and mask, a weak smile appearing as he reached over to give his ferret palisman a brief scratch under the chin.

"C'mon, Bandit. We should heed Uncle's advice."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the bedroom door, Allard found himself confronted with the sight of his wife standing at the opposite end of the room close to the window. Nocturne had since leapt up onto the bed and curled up in the middle of it, Caprice had perched herself on the windowsill to look out of the window, but Marigold, who had been a fuming mess mere seconds ago, was now staring at her husband with a brow cocked and a faint smirk dancing upon her lips, her arms crossed against her abdomen.

"Did the surprise note from our daughter the other night suddenly give you a confidence boost~?" she teased, being mindful to keep her voice low in case Xander happened to overhear them.

Allard leaned back a little and blinked widely a couple of times at this, feeling his cheeks starting to grow warm with the faint pink flush that sprung to them.

"W-What?" he stuttered and averted his gaze to the right wall, trying to ignore the beads of sweat gathering across his forehead. "W-What are you t-talking about?"

"Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes~. Since when were you the one going around picking fights?" She tilted her chin up and puffed her chest with the widening of her smirk. "That's usually my job!"

Allard rolled his eyes at this, but it didn't stop a faint smile appearing as he returned his gaze to the other blonde.

"That's not something to be proud of, Mari," he jested. His smile faded with the slight shake of his head then, his hands going behind his back when he moved away from the door and went around the bed. "But I assure you, I wasn't trying to pick a fight. I just did what I had to do to protect my nephew."

Of course, Marigold wasn't convinced in the slightest, her current stance and expression remaining intact as she observed her husband coming to join her by the window.

"Whatever you say, dear," she replied jokingly, with Allard choosing that as the reply to end their conversation on.

Once Allard was stood to her left side and facing the window with his hands clasped behind his back, though, she dropped her smirk and walked over to the right side of the window, following the other witch's gaze to the sun-soaked streets of Bonesborough. She leaned her shoulder on the window frame and the side of her forehead against the cool glass, her brown eyes eventually trailing over to her husband at the loud huff he allowed to leave him.

"I still can't believe it," he whispered, green eyes locking with the spot on the window ledge outside where he recalled seeing that tiny owl only a few nights ago, his daughter's note clutched in its beak. "Three years of silence and then suddenly… a note delivered by an owl." Allard raised a hand to his forehead and ran his fingers through his fringe. "I am certain I dreamt that night."

Marigold let out a light-hearted chuckle. "If that had been a dream, Allard, then I would have been questioning how we managed to have the same one." She heard her husband quietly snort at her joking remark, only to furrow her brows and close her eyes as she continued. "It's a relief to know that she's still alive and out there somewhere, but why couldn't she have told us where she is or what she's been up to? She should know we'd destroy the evidence."

"She was probably trying to be careful." Allard twirled strands of his fringe around his index finger and allowed his eyes to droop, briefly catching sight of the Bard Coven seal on the underside of his left wrist. "Elisabeth must know we're under house arrest if she's figured out where we are. She's likely avoiding mentioning anything that could be used to incriminate us."

"Doesn't mean that's enough to reassure the worrying mother in me." Marigold cracked open an eye and slouched against the window with a pout, the fingers on her right hand lightly tracing the Bard Coven seal on the underside of her left wrist. "Just the thought of my baby girl being out there with some random witch or getting into trouble…"

Allard turned his head slightly to his wife with a raised brow. "Why do you think she's with another witch?"

Marigold straightened up and moved to rest her back against the window, staring at her husband as if he'd grown a second head. "Elisabeth never got to make a palisman! Who else could that owl belong to?"

There were a few seconds of delay before Allard conceded with the shrug of his shoulders. "Good point." He peeked over at the box-like shelves on the right wall behind him, his green eyes focusing on the battered copy of 'The Tricky Tale of Todd and Tawny' that was sticking out amongst the group of books closest to him. "Though whoever she's with must be keeping her safe if they've helped her to deliver a message to us. So, try not to worry too much, all right?"

Marigold followed Allard's gaze to the shelves with a small huff and drooped shoulders, her brown eyes glistening as they took in one of the few possessions of their daughter's they'd managed to smuggle away from the coven guards that night. "… That's easier said than done, dear."


A/N: Just in case anyone is confused: No, Allard and Marigold are not wearing ankle monitors. What I have stuck on them is a non-canon magical equivalent of an ankle monitor, which will be explored in more detail in the upcoming chapter, I promise. But that's all I'm willing to say without spoiling anything. XD Either way, you guys have officially been given a proper glimpse of Lizzie's parents this time around, along with some more information surrounding what's going on between Allard and Ulritch and then some with Xander. While you wait for the next chapter, here's a little challenge for you: how many of Lizzie's personality traits can you spot in Marigold and Allard during this chapter?