A/N: following head's up copied from the AO3 post.
CONTENT WARNING: brief mention of breastfeeding, abusive/toxic relationship, implied sexual content/dubious consent, bad parenting, homophobia, classism and sexism, and possibly the worst way to separate (not divorce, but separate) from your spouse imaginable. Paimon is a bastard. Lilith is a BITCH.
Her first night as a mother was strange. Healed up and cleared to leave, Alastriona held Stolas snugly in her arms as Paimon returned them to his chambers, teleporting away from the room that had so exhausted her, so dark in its privacy, and into a familiar one bathed in light and warmth.
She was so tired that she could barely argue as Paimon urged the baby out of her arms and placed him in the shining white bassinet at the foot of the bed. She sat heavily on one of the chairs and watched him, heavy-eyed, as he soothed their newborn to sleep.
Then, quietly, he led her to the bathroom and ran her a bath. To leave Stolas alone like that… she felt a twinge of nerves, but his hand was gently insistent at her lower back, moving her forward as her legs seemed to lag.
He helped her wash off the sweat and the mess, eyes sweet and soft, lips curved and pleased. A warmth was in her heart as he took care of her, as he dried her off and dressed her, escorting her to the bed and tugging her close to him under the covers, whispering his love for her.
He was so happy with her, he told her. She'd done so well. It made her eyes prick in her exhaustive relief.
But… even as Paimon drifted off, breath rumbling out of him, Alastriona couldn't sleep. The darkness of the room wasn't quite dark enough and the silence wasn't quite quiet enough. She heard her baby breathing near her feet, smacking his little lips, and she couldn't bear to be away from him. The distance was too much.
So, she crawled out from Paimon's arms and turned, inching on her belly to peer into the bassinet, seeing her baby sleeping so soundly.
She watched him for hours and hours, just astounded by him. He was hers. Her creation. From her body. It was crazy to think about it, it was insane.
Before… before everything, before her death… when she was young and naïve to men's cruelties, she'd sometimes imagine what her future would be like. What she'd do for a living, who she'd marry, how many kids she'd have. In most ways, she'd always wanted to be like her mother, to be as strong and caring as her. Her daydreams would first be filled with visions of her gentle husband. A doctor or a lawyer. Or an actor. Yes, an actor! Someone she'd meet on set and sparks would fly. And then, later on in her imaginings, they'd have children. One or two. And they'd raise them well. Present, stable parents who were always there for them.
It was not that long ago that she was dreaming those things, thinking of names she liked, the ones all her favorite actors had. She'd think, when I'm thirty, I'm going to have the most beautiful babies anyone has ever had, with the most handsome man ever to be seen.
Her future came slower, and after she died, but that was okay. It was good even, she knew, for as she looked down into the bassinet, she thought she never could have had a more beautiful baby than the little boy in front of her. Could she ever have had a more handsome husband, either?
Still, Alastriona wasn't ready. She'd been thrust into true motherhood, kicking and screaming. Too early. Too much responsibility on her shoulders.
She'd never even acted chaste. Stolas was conceived before marriage. Maman would be so disappointed in her. How could she be a good mother? An intelligent one who taught her child right from wrong?
Virginity was meant to be taken on the wedding night. To enter a marriage already pregnant, it was like being born a bastard out of Louisiana. And now she wasn't even a queen, she was just...a consort. The power she thought she would have never came. It felt empty.
She hadn't had any of those things and she never would. But, she had the most perfect baby. And that would have to be enough. It was enough. She'd done enough, finally. She thought she could be happy like this if she really tried.
But even as Alastriona marveled at the creature she'd born into this world, anxiety caught her. It got her and yanked her around, merciless as it always was. She lingered there for hours, just gazing, body so utterly worn out but mind so completely awake.
Whenever he shuffled awake, face twisted up in a way that suggested upset, she picked him up before he could make a sound. She tended to him and soothed him and sang to him and fed him throughout the night. But… as the night wore on and she still didn't sleep… the ache in her body became even more painful.
It hurt to be awake, but sleep sounded horrible. The baby! He was so helpless right there alone. What if something happened to him? What if someone attacked? She'd be helpless to protect him if she was asleep. What if he grew uncomfortable and whined and she didn't hear? He could die, lungs or heart failing when mom wasn't paying attention! The thought damaged her, making her hands tremble and shake.
He was so little… he needed her.
But her eyes drifted shut more and more. And more and more, she snapped back to attention, focusing her unfocusing eyes on the perfect little boy who slept right there. The battle was hard.
Stolas. Her son.
In her mind, she knew him as Stolas Albert Dupuis-Goetia. It would be her little secret, she smiled to herself, trying, trying to ignore those horrible thoughts beating at her mind, distracting herself.
She focused on him. It was important. Stay awake.
She trailed fingers over his little knuckles, so tiny, and fussed with the blanket around him and blinked her eyes open against the sleep that was ripping her away. She gripped the rim of the bassinet and murmured the words of the only lullaby she knew.
Stay awake, stay awake...
Then, Alastriona jolted. A noise was bothering her. The room was bright. She blinked and realized, sitting up quick and groaning at the ache. A blanket was tucked around her waist.
She panicked.
Her eyes focused immediately on Stolas, sleeping quietly in the bassinet still. Oh, thank God, she thought. Then her eyes focused on the source of the noise. It was Paimon. He was speaking to some crow woman over the baby. She was plump and young looking and Alastriona stared.
"Ah, you're awake," Paimon said, noticing her. "Feeling rested?"
She nodded after a slow pause and rubbed at her eyes. "Um… who…?" she asked, glancing over at Stolas for a long moment and then swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.
Standing gingerly, she touched the top of the bassinet nervously.
"Ah," Paimon said, "Yes, this is Morrigan. The wet nurse."
Morrigan offered a polite nod and a sliver of a smile.
Alastriona's face twisted in confusion and she looked over to Paimon. "Wet… nurse?"
A brief flash of surprise crossed his face. He raised an eyebrow. "To nurse the babe."
Her brow furrowed. "... my babe?"
He inclined his head. She was confused.
"But…" she said, "I can do that."
Paimon stepped closer to her. "There's no need. Morrigan is a professional, and you can focus on healing up."
Alastriona looked down at the floor and pressed her hand to her forehead. Her head was spinning. What…?
Then, a sharp noise pierced the air. Stolas was crying again. She panicked and turned to him, reaching her hands out but Morrigan was already gathering him up and rocking him.
Alastriona gaped, her hands out uselessly. She looked between Paimon and her baby in another woman's arms. Her fists clenched by her side and her breath started to come quicker. The woman approached one of the chairs and sat, tugging at the laces of her bodice.
"No!" Alastriona shouted, lunging forward, but stumbling over the leg of the bassinet. Paimon stopped her from falling and hauled her back up. She batted his hands away and rushed forward. The baby wailed still.
"Don't you dare," she ground out, feeling angrier than she'd ever felt before, snatching up Stolas from her arms and glaring before turning away.
Morrigan looked at her with raised eyebrows and then at the king, standing up with her arms reaching out for the baby. But Paimon raised a hand and she stilled.
"What's the problem, Alastriona?" Paimon asked.
"What's the problem?" she shrieked, bouncing up and down with Stolas in her arms. "He's mine! I'll nurse him, not anyone else!"
Morrigan shifted. "My Lady, there's no reason you should nurse him. I'm perfectly capable of taking him off your hands."
Alastriona saw red. "Get out," she said, voice tight and cold. Morrigan's eyes widened and she noticed them flick between her and the king. When she didn't move, it burst out of her: "GET OUT!" A shrill scream, it vibrated in her rage.
Stolas' cries rose in volume, sharp and tragic, deafening her. Her focus snapped down to him immediately. His little face was bright red and angry and he was crying so hard. "Oh," Alastriona said, voice cracking. Guilt filled her up. It was a terrible, terrible feeling. Like stepping on a cat's tail and hearing it hiss, but so, so much worse. She wanted to rip at her hair or dig her nails into her skin.
The doe hurried to the chaise and sat with Stolas secure in her arms, rocking him and whispering soothing noises. She heard Paimon sighing. "It's all right," the owl demon said, words barely heard under the screeching of her owlet, "You may go. We won't be needing your services after all. Thank you."
Alastriona stared fixedly down at Stolas until she heard that woman, that horrible, nasty, thieving crow, leave. She felt sick. Only when the door sounded shut behind her, did the deer allow herself to open the front of her nightgown and guide her baby to latch. It was a bit of a struggle - she didn't have much practice at it, not at all - but when he did, a breath of relief left her. His cries stopped and little noises of satisfaction sounded. Tiny eyes closed and flickered under his eyelids. It hurt, his beak pecking at her breast, but she couldn't care. He wasn't crying, and that was all that mattered.
Paimon came up behind the chaise, his hands curling over the back of it. He brushed some of her hair out of her face. Her eyes pricked. Was he mad at her?
"I should've known," he said after a moment.
She hesitated. "Known…?"
He kissed the crown of her head. "That you wouldn't be anything like the court ladies here. Of course my beautiful doe would want to nurse our child herself. I was a fool to think anything else."
"Oh," she mumbled.
"Do you forgive me?" he asked.
She tilted her head back to look up at him. He was upside down in her view, but she could see his solemn eyes. Her lips parted.
His beak curved. "Well?" he murmured, leaning over her and brushing his lips over hers.
Her eyes fluttered. "Yeah," she whispered, "um... yes, of course. It's okay."
"Of course," he said, and he kissed her tenderly, top lips to bottom lips. Stolas made a little baby grunt beneath her. She smiled into Paimon's lips.
Mother, father, and son. What a picture it was.
Two months passed. Stolas had grown feathers by then. Grayish-blue or black feathers; Al couldn't tell, but he was handsome to her regardless. A plume-like tail made him even more adorable- which would grow long, no doubt.
Cheers burst out. Even as far below as they were, they thundered.
Alastriona fidgeted, holding Stolas tight to her chest, tucked in and safe as Paimon stood beside her, hand clasped over her shoulder, just at the ledge of the East Balcony. Her fingers itched, worried over the height, the noise.
They were too high! In her head, there was an image of Stolas dropping from her arms all the way to the stone below, splattering and dying. It made her flinch. She fixed her eyes on him, watching the way his eyes flickered as he sucked on his pearlescent pacifier, focusing hard to not move an inch. The effort seemed too much.
It felt like forever that they stood before the kingdom. That Paimon waved and allowed them all to lay their eyes on his son. Even when it was over, it still wasn't over. He inclined his head at the crowd before stepping back.
He guided her from the ledge and into the corridor, each step toward more solid ground calmed her. The balcony doors shut behind them and a silence surrounded, the cheers now tinny past the stone and glass. Guards stood stationed at either side of the door, staring forward.
Paimon turned to her. "Are you ready?"
"Yes," Alastriona said, fussing with the collar of Stolas' little outfit. He was still so small. Her eyes tightened and she looked at him. "They won't hurt him, will they?"
He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "They wouldn't dare," he said, his voice hard as stone. When she just frowned, his lips curved up, fond. "Don't you worry, my dear. Nothing will happen to you or him."
So, she nodded and shifted, tucking Stolas even closer into her, thumbing at his little hand. Paimon rested his hand on top of both of theirs and they blinked away from the corridor, appearing again in front of a pair of grand doors. She steeled herself when the doors cracked, spreading apart inch by inch, revealing the great hall filled to the brim with nobility.
Music played inside, something orchestral, dark and celebratory. The Ars Goetia turned when the doors clanged all the way open. Alastriona saw grins stretch out on their faces, their hands coming together to clap. Stolas gurgled.
She took one hesitant step forward and paused. She glanced at Paimon, wide-eyed. "Go on," he said, pressing gently against her lower back.
She breathed deeply and stepped again. Into the snake pit. She stared ahead, eyes hard as she walked straight across the long hall, along the path carved out for her by the rejoicing crowd. Paimon was right behind her, she knew, but...
Her heart thumped hard and she clutched her baby tight to her breast as the Ars Goetia converged on her, fingers wisping through her hair, against her face, over her shoulders. As their hands glanced softly over the prince in her arms. His face and his hands and his feet. But she continued on, just as Paimon told her to. He wouldn't let them hurt Stolas, she knew that.
It was still so hard.
Finally, finally… she reached the end of her path. Just before the raised platform, she turned. Paimon was there, just like he said he'd be. He reached out and she let him take Stolas from her, her fingers twitching as she lost that precious weight in her arms.
Paimon stepped onto the platform and looked out at the crowd, baby tucked sweetly into his arms. The crowd quieted and bowed all as one. Alastriona stood a step below, unsure what to do with her arms.
There was a beat of silence as the crowd stood back up. Paimon let the moment settle. And then, he said: "Today I present Crown Prince Stolas, heir to the throne of the Goetia Kingdom. May he live a long and prosperous life."
It was a proclamation. It was intense. It felt like something from a movie. Alastriona watched in a sort of awe as cheers sounded even louder than before, as Paimon's words were echoed back, as the jubilation built like a wave. A true tsunami, shaking the floor beneath them.
She looked sideways and saw as Paimon smiled. He looked down at his son proudly. Even past all the commotion and all the worry, her heart calmed, a peaceful silence inside her. She smiled too.
It was a night full of revelry as the Ars Goetia celebrated the birth of the heir. Full of drinking and eating and dancing and laughing. A nursemaid had come to take Stolas from a reluctant Alastriona, to watch over him and put him to sleep away from the noise while his parents remained seated at the high table, accepting felicitations and well-wishes from the demon nobility.
Through everything, she couldn't stop thinking of Stolas. She missed him. She hadn't been away from him for more than an hour since he was born. The feeling… it wanted to crawl out of her. It made her want to jump up from her seat and sprint madly to their chambers, to pick him up and rock him to sleep herself. It had been hard for Paimon to convince her that it would be okay, that the nursemaid was trustworthy, and that Stolas would be safe without either of them for these late night hours of celebration. For didn't they deserve to celebrate such a boon, he'd asked her, smiling his little smile. It stumped her. How could she argue with that?
But still, sitting there… it itched and itched and itched. She wanted to celebrate with Stolas in her arms, not here surrounded by all these strangers.
As the night wore on, sitting and jittering at Paimon's side, it all reminded her of the wedding. She fiddled with her ring and couldn't stomach any of the food. She peered nervously at him and at the crowd. Would he…? He said he wouldn't. But it was so long ago… He might've lied.
But he caught her looking, a grimace painted across her face. He laughed. "Relax, Alastriona mine. No carnal pleasures for tonight."
Still, it relieved her and she sighed and continued picking at her food, observing.
As the nobility and even the Sins- minus the first, still absent like the useless sack of balls he was- approached her and Paimon throughout the night, she noticed something. There was a change in the air and it surprised her.
They still didn't talk to her but they no longer ignored her, no longer derided her to her face. Instead… they gave both King and Consort their congratulations, nodding and smiling at the both of them. They applauded King's choice of a bride, for what a great king Prince Stolas will turn out to be.
It had bothered her so much less than months ago: her job as a mother. But now… something like pride filled her. Yes, she thought, pleased, he would be a great king. Her son was perfect and they all knew it now. Finally, they could see she wasn't just some… whore.
"They accept you now," Paimon murmured in her ear at some point.
Alastriona's mouth twisted. "I don't know if accept is the right word."
"Maybe not," he admitted, shrugging a shoulder. "But they honor you. You're the prince's mother. Not a bad station to have, I must say."
Not as good as Queen. The thought came quick and fast and it shocked her. A resentful thing she didn't realize was in her. It made guilt twinge. She was happy to be the prince's mother. She was, truthfully and honestly. How could she not be?
The prince's mother. It was a damn sight better than being the king's consort. Don't be a bitch, she told herself, don't be ungrateful.
The doe forced herself to smile for the rest of the evening. Even as the hours dragged by slow and painful and all she wanted was to go back to their chambers and see Stolas. "Is he okay?" she would ask her husband over and over, fretting every time some terrible possibility crossed her mind, and worrying still that Paimon would be annoyed at her for it.
But he never was. At her every request, he would produce an orb and he'd gesture her closer. She'd lean in beside him and they'd both peer into the vision of their son sleeping soundly, the nursemaid reading in the rocking chair beside his bassinet. Then, she'd sit back and gaze at him, grateful eyes and soothed soul.
It hardly felt real when Paimon finally said they could leave, hours and hours later. As the nobility continued dancing and shouting, somehow still full of energy and enthusiasm, he stood and pulled her out of her seat. He took her hand in his and, no owl any wiser, disappeared them to their chambers.
Alastriona breathed easier when they got there, rushing over the bassinet and checking on Stolas as Paimon dismissed the nursemaid. It eased her mind to see him sleeping so peacefully, still okay.
Paimon came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and hooking his chin over her shoulder. He pulled her up from her bent position. His face turned into her neck and he breathed her in. "I've missed you," he said.
She blanked for a moment and then she realized. Oh, she thought. He was hard against her. She blushed.
"But Stolas-" she started.
He kissed the pulse in her neck. "-is asleep, my darling. Come." He tugged her toward the bed and sat, pulling her between his legs.
She stood there awkwardly, glancing over at the bassinet every few seconds. He kicked off his boots, and pulled off his gloves. "Paimon," she whined, twisting her hands. "I don't know, he's right there… it's not right."
The king laughed and shook his head. "I still can't believe how prudish you can be." He unfastened his coat and shrugged it off his shoulders, dropping it to the floor. She pursed her lips and watched while he undid his cravat.
Then, he stood again, so close to her that she had to tilt her head back to look at him. He reached around her, plucking at the fastenings along her spine and letting the silky gown fall like water down her skin.
The radio demoness covered her belly, self-conscious in its change. Her scarred body wasn't unmarred anymore. It wasn't untouched like it had been. But he took hold of her wrists and pulled them away, uncovering her to his eyes.
It had been a while. She was so acutely aware of it, feeling more embarrassed and flustered than she had in a long, long while. Over four weeks since he'd had her last. "Wait," she whispered as he pulled off his shirt. "Isn't it… too soon?" she said quietly, looking anywhere but at him. "I'll be all… I won't be right down there."
He paused. His hand came to her chin and slowly he tilted her head up. Her face burned and her arms went back to cover herself. "The healers said three weeks, remember? And it's been months, anyhow." His beak brushed against her lips. "Everything will be perfectly alright, precious. Just enjoy."
Her eyes slid shut when he kissed her again, more deeply, tongue touching against hers, soft and sweet. One of his hands wrapped around the side of her neck. She allowed the kiss to take her away, to sway her around. He scratched her scalp and she shivered, her hands coming up to his shoulders.
He guided her toward the bed, urging her against the edge, making her plop to a seat. His hand pressed gently between her breasts, pressing her back until she was laying flat against the bed, her legs dangling off at the knees. Above her, he loomed, watching her with burning eyes.
He gripped the backs of her knees and yanked, dragging her so her bottom was just at the edge of the bed. She gasped. He tugged at her underpants, pulling them down her legs and over her feet. She tried to fall her knees together, but he stopped her, keeping them parted as he undid his trousers.
She watched him as he pushed back her legs and settled there between them, standing tall above her. The glow of the fire diluted in the distance. Its soft light painted his skin. There was a stirring in her.
But there was also a nagging in the back of Alastriona's mind... she tilted her head toward the bassinet, eyes searching.
Fingers caressed her cheek, urging her eyes away and bringing her back. Paimon's eyes caught hers. "He's okay," he told her, his hands warming up her skin. She made herself nod, but she wasn't sure she believed it. She second guessed it. "Are you- are you sure?" she whispered, "Maybe we should wait until… until he's in his own room, you know?"
His hand reached between them and he touched between her legs. There was something wet on his fingers; he smeared it around. Something jolted in her belly. "That won't be for many months," he told her.
"... yes?"
His eyes crinkled at the corners. "No," Paimon said, "we shouldn't."
Alastriona's eyes closed. "Okay."
But her body held tense, something foreign about the familiar feeling that bothered her. He began to move, slowly at first, and then faster, more desperate. Deep and powerful, she was almost unused to it now.
It was uncomfortable, but soon she began to warm up to him again. At his hands all over her and his insistent rhythm that built something in her. Her body melted in his hold, no longer stiff but now moving easily with his motions. She gasped and touched at his hair when he angled himself differently, hiking her legs up further.
He licked at her collarbone and ground and she moaned and-
A noise sounded out from the bassinet.
Alastriona jolted up, pushing Paimon back, but he wouldn't be budged from her, stilling only when Stolas started to whimper. There were sad little noises that set her on edge and sent her eyes wide. Paimon covered her mouth and looked into her eyes. It was a tense moment as they seemed to wait for Stolas to settle.
It wasn't long before the owlet did, his little whimpers fading as he fell back to sleep. But to Alastriona, it felt like an eternity. Her eyes watered. She wanted to hold him.
"See?" Paimon said, groaning in her skin, talons clenched painfully into her flesh. "He's fine."
And he started to move again.
But Alastriona barely noticed as her eyes drifted over to the bassinet, wishing she could see into it. To make sure her son was okay.
"Can thou believe it? Thy fellow overlord, Alastriona… she's become a mother."
"WHAT?!"
Vox's angry cry rang out. Valentino tsked and muttered "what a waste", while Velvette winced. Carmilla seemed concerned, as though she suddenly gained sympathy for a woman she was mostly indifferent to - possibly because she was a single mother for a long time until she and Zestial courted. Odette and Clara murmured something about assuming she'd been a lesbian asexual ("Not that there's anything wrong with that! We just thought it made more sense since…"), while Zeezi was surprised she even had a kid.
Rosie just felt numb. Her sharp teeth grit together, and the pressure ached in the corners of her mouth. It had been so long since she'd last seen her friend. Last word she ever got was a letter saying she was seeing some guy. This avian creature. It hadn't made sense, since Al didn't like men. Now apparently, she'd gotten knocked up?
"Who … is the father?" was the cannibal overlord's question. Hesitant, for the answer would be most unpleasant.
It was, but still shocked her, with the full context now.
"King Paimon of the Ars Goetia."
Angry and concerned cries rose up, while the cannibal overlord's hand gripped the table as she soaked that in. Of course – a king's wife was always made to stay in the castle, and the doe probably wasn't even a queen, was she? No, just a consort… his broodmare.
Rosie felt so sick.
"That son of a bitch kidnapped her!" Vox shouted, slamming his fists onto the table. "Pulled a Hades and everything!"
"Isn't Hades the uncle of Persephone?" Velvette mumbled, uncomfortable.
"How... lawful... is this marriage?" Carmilla asked, trying to mask concern. "Should we try and visit? For the child's sake, at least... after all, it is rare hellborns and sinners have offspring. Much less a Goetia-"
"What about the fact she hasn't been seen in months here?" Zeezi asked, brow raised. "This reeks of foul play."
"Thy know we cannot cross boundaries between higher ranks and ours." Zestial looked down, filled with shame. "We can only do so much."
"...I- I have to go." Rosie couldn't take it anymore. Her heart ached as thoughts rushed through.
Alastriona, unhappy as she held a bundle. Sitting on a throne next to a king who merely showed her off as a trophy wife.
She wanted to scream. Instead she stood up, walking out before any objections were held.
Odette and Clara glanced at each other, knowing.
It was at five months that Stolas began talking. During an afternoon in the nursery, while Alastriona held a velveteen rabbit above his head as she played with her son.
"Look, ma petite, it's Thumper!" she cooed. She made it 'hop.' "He's so happy to see you!" She faked a cartoonish voice. "Vive le roi Stolas!"
Stolas giggled and squealed, holding his hands out to take the toy. Alastriona smiled warmly, whatever aching in her heart from her husband's changes fading instantly. It was tough, adjusting to a life where it seemed all love Paimon had for her was now restricted to raw and uncomfortable intercourse, or insincere kisses and sweet talk. But Stolas' sweetness, his unconditional love and his light, it made everything worth it. She adored her son more than anything.
"Mama."
And it was that word that made her heart stop for a second, before bursting with joy. He was her sunshine, her evening star, her everything - this child born from uncertainty, certainly was the greatest thing to happen to her.
"Oui, I am your mere!" Alastriona picked the owlet up and kissed his head.
Stolas giggled again, touching her muzzle with his feathered hands. His feet kicked happily. "Mama, mama!"
Alastriona felt tears of joy fall. "Mama loves you, ma petite garçon. More than you can imagine."
From the back of her throat, a song arose. That song she sung when he first came into this world...she found the words again.
' And if you looked at me today,
My heart would heal so fast.
And if you held me right away,
I'd be complete at last.
At last...
You are my favorite, favorite thing,
Better than sunset, better than spring.
You bring me joy, you make me sing,
In the morning and the evening, too.
You are everything to me,
And I love you...'
She picked him up and carried him to his playpen. Placing him on a pillow, the doe set her son down for his nap. The little prince yawned and smiled up at his mother before his eyes drooped shut.
"Sleep well, my precious phoenix." Alastriona kissed his head again, before leaving and quietly shutting the door behind her.
She was going to head to her husband's quarters, only to be stopped by the imp butler - Wilhelm.
"My Lady, there's a woman in the gardens who wishes to speak with you," Wilhelm told her. He then whispered: "Says she's an old friend of yours."
Alastriona gasped, and ran. Fast as she could in the silly gown and skirts Paimon made her dress in, anyhow.
She anxiously stepped out into the orchid garden. It was a small one, hidden behind the main gardens full of fountains and statues, overhanging with orchids, closed in by tall hedges.
It was beautiful just like everything in this place, but in a cozy sort of way. Orchids of all colors tangled together all around, embracing. It reminded her of the chaotic garden her neighbor always tended to in his backyard.
She was on edge anyway, waiting and wandering, trying to not be suspicious. He could always be watching, she knew.
It felt like forever before the clock chimed three. Her heart was bursting in her chest, half-terrified and half-excited to see the cannibal. To talk with someone again. Her friend came, for her? Oh... she could hardly believe it!
Soon, Alastriona found Rosie, sitting on the bench. She ran over and hugged her, tight, terrified to let her go. It has been so long- "Dear Rosie!"
"Al! You- you..." Rosie trailed off, glancing at the tacky gown. "You're...married to...Paimon."
Alastriona pulled away, frowning. "I - we met when I was trying to find the path to the Von Eldritch estate. To find a job there just to get away from Vox."
"And... you met the Goetia king."
"He was going to meet Hell's worst ruler. We met instead. It was...fine at first. I thought he loved me genuinely." Alastriona paused. "I'm not so sure, now that I think about it. I got pregnant a month later. The sex was so...strange. Is it supposed to be, Rosie?"
Rosie teared up. "No, it's not. You're supposed to want it. Not think of it like-"
"Oh." Alastriona blinked back tears. "Doesn't matter now though. I have my little Stolas. He makes it worth it."
"It's good to know you at least are happy with the kid... but your marriage... do you want to be with this guy?" Rosie asked, genuinely wondering. Trying to hide the strange, ugly feeling she felt. "Does he even treat you right?"
"I – he lets me stay here, as his consort, and – and he gives me food, shelter, necessities. He's … a bit emotionally absent as a father, and the occasional night activities are slightly unpleasant, but –" Alastriona's voice wavered. She couldn't think of many positives that weren't below the bare minimum.
"Al, you can't stay with him." Rosie placed her hands on the doe's shoulders. "You need to annul this, for your sake and the kid's."
"I can't," Alastriona sighed, shaking her head. "I – I love my husband, I do… I think I do. He's given me so much, so I can't just throw that away – and I'm sure he'll be a better father in due time." He kissed her every day at least, said sweet things – maybe that could be a sign it'd get better eventually.
"Has the kid started talking yet?" Rosie asked, skeptical. "If so, what's his first word?"
"Stolas' first word?" Alastriona paused, gulping. "…Mama."
"Has Paimon ever held him?"
"A few times…about three months ago."
Rosie pinched her face in anger. "And – and do you really enjoy the… nightly activities he makes you do?"
Alastriona shrugged. "The feeling is…alright. I just don't know if I like the way he does it, truly."
"He's not good enough for you. You and kingy need to divorce." Rosie's voice was harsh, but she couldn't help it. She knew this wasn't right, that Al needed to get out of this sham, and that Stolas needed a more secure home before things went south. "I can try talking to Hell's King…or maybe Zestial can get into one of the other rings, talking with one of the sins –"
Fear arose in Alastriona. She knew what her husband was capable of. Her heart almost stopped again at the thought of– "Rosie, you can't be here! If Paimon finds out, he'll…"
The cannibal looked uncomfortable. "I ain't scared of that rat. He's a no good son of a bitch."
Al looked down. "… You should be scared. Besides… he won't be happy with me."
"He won't find out," Rosie said immediately, full of bluster. "I asked… that imp says he's always busy at three."
"But his orbs and mirrors…"
Rosie shook her head. "Don't worry about it."
The doe's brows knitted together. She was worried. Would she ever not be worried in the rest of her life?
"Zestial!" she said, "that's how you found out."
Rosie nodded, lighting a candle. "That's right, dear. If he hadn't decided to help… might not've been able to contact you at all."
In the brighter light it was more obvious, Rosie looked terribly exhausted. It didn't look natural on her usually beautiful self.
"Rosie…" she started, "… are you okay?"
"Are you okay, she asks," the cannibal muttered, shaking out the match. She turned to her, eyes sad. "Are you okay?"
Alastriona looked away. "... Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Don't play that game with me, Al. We've all seen the pictures of you at his court from Zestial, stuck on that stone floor like a dog. And Vassago was there when he married you, just like the rest of the Ars Goetia."
She hated knowing that. It embarrassed her. That the parrot overlord had seen her make her vows to the owl king. It was different when it was only a crowd so far below she couldn't see their faces.
The deer's lower lip jutted out and she hunched slightly, on her knees. "I don't know what to say."
Rosie looked worried. "Is this… something you wanted?"
She flushed. Was it? She remembered being once enamored with this king. She'd wanted him to love her, before. And sometimes… she still did. But had she wanted… this? She looked down at her abdomen. She twiddled with the sleeves of her favorite gown, loose and flowy. Her body recovered, but her soul had not.
"... No," Alastriona whispered.
Rosie growled and kicked the dirt wall, sending dust poofing angrily around. "I should have gone with you at the end… this wouldn't have happened."
"Don't be silly," Alastor said much more harshly than she could ever imagine herself being. "He wanted me; there was no way he wasn't going to get what he wanted. You being there wouldn't have changed that."
Rosie looked away, brow crunched up. There was a silence between them filled with all the things that had happened. Al felt awkward, talking to her old friend she hadn't seen in a year.
"But you are okay, aren't you?" she asked, "You and the others? Save for Vox. He can go kick rocks."
"Yeah," Rosie muttered, "we're fine. Worried about you. Carmilla and her kids would have come, but…it was too risky for all of us to."
"Then why did you come at all? It's not like you can do anything about anything." Al felt something like anger in her heart. She always was a spoiled, selfish bitch. Her fists clenched in her skirt.
Rosie huffed. "Wanted to check on you."
The doe looked down. "...Sorry," she said. How horrible she was.
The cannibal's eyes softened. "It's okay," she grunted. "I know you've had a rough go of it."
Alastriona shrugged listlessly, her back resting against the dirt wall behind her.
"Al…" Rosie said.
"Hmm?"
"There is something we can do about it…"
"Mmm-hmm…" she was just so tired of it all. She wanted to sleep, she wanted to die.
"Alastriona, I'm trying to tell you that we have a way for you to get outta this place!" Rosie bellowed. An echo sounded.
She looked up quickly. "You- you do?"
Her friend nodded. "Yes. There's a passageway… we can get you back to the pride ring and try to block off his magic."
Al's eyes were wide, looking everywhere, seeing nothing. Her hand pressed to her heart. She shifted and something sharp scraped against her back. She flinched.
"... I don't know, Rosie," she said, "I never escaped before and… he could catch me. It's just- it's not worth it. And… I'm the mother of his heir now. He'll never let me go."
Unease flashed in Rosie's eyes. But then, stubbornly, she said: "This time you won't be alone. You'll have all of us helping. You won't get caught. Promise."
"You can't promise something like that, Rosie," the deer said, resigned.
"Why not?" Rosie grumbled, crossing her arms, "It's true."
Al smiled sadly, looking away.
Rosie toddled closer. "If I'm lying, I'm dying, Al. I promise. The plan's solid, no doubt."
The radio demoness took the cannibal overlord's hand in hers softly. "You're the best friend I ever could've had, Rosie," she said, voice soft. She met her eyes. She wanted her to know.
A blush bloomed along the other woman's face and she twitched in embarrassment. She shifted away, bashful. "You too," she admitted. Fondness bubbled up inside the doe.
"Will you trust me?" she asked, looking down and scuffing the ground with her shoes.
"I always trust you, Rosie," Alastriona hesitated. "But … I have to think about it."
Disappointment bled into her eyes. But she just sighed and patted her hand. "I understand… If you decide yes, we leave from here, same time next week. Got it?"
Before Al left, she hugged her friend one last time, eyes pricking. "Thank you," she whispered. "If I don't see you again, know how much I appreciate you. Tell the others the same."
It was when Paimon was asleep, Alastriona tried to leave. She took Stolas, wrapped snug in his blanket, and rushed out to the garden.
There, she saw Rosie, Carmilla, Odette and Clara.
"I am so sorry." Carmilla's voice filled with a strange remorse. "We are going to make sure that boy never knows the bastard who sired him."
"Father's made us a portal. We can get through if we make it in time." Odette's voice was urgent. Clara nodded to this, holding a gun in her hands.
"This is not for my sake," Alastriona declared, eyes hard. "It's for my son." I just want him to feel safe… I can't know what his father will do… I'm so lost, I –
"He'll be okay," Rosie assured her. "Come on, we have to go."
"I wonder…" Alastriona would joke later on, as they ran towards the ends of this ring, "Do you go to this much trouble for all the wayward wives?"
Rosie would frown at her and shake her head. "There's never been another."
"... what?"
The cannibal puffed out a bit of air. "You're the only one."
She was disoriented. What?
And then Carmilla's eyebrows raised and she looked at something ahead. "We're here," she said.
Her head snapped forward. They'd stopped in front of one of the many doors. A translucent green door that would open to her freedom. She could hardly believe it.
Alastriona clasped her free hand to her breast. "This is it?" she asked. Stolas squirmed slightly, though still asleep.
"Yes, it's one of Father's teleportation spells," Clara assured her. "Don't worry, it won't cause a ruckus and the baby will be fine."
She walked closer, touching the aura of the door. She looked back at them when worry struck like lightning in her heart. "...once I'm back, won't he be able to find me?"
Rosie shook her head. "Zestial helped me… he can only go to the wrath ring if Lucifer or Lilith allow it, he said."
"Oh…" the radio demoness frowned. There it was. She always knew it was somehow their fault she'd gotten into this situation, but to know that if she'd kept to her own path, this never would have happened… it was a hard thing to acknowledge.
It should have ended when she opened the door. Should have been safe and sound. Stolas would grow up in the tower. She would teach him everything she knew. He would have free will.
It didn't. The moment she slipped through, the moment the other overlord women went after her...it went to shit.
It was the screeching noise that made her eyes open. Squealing tires, shouting, laughing, honking. She stood at the curb of a busy, busy street, bustling with traffic and people. It was dark out. Her mouth parted open as she looked around, surprised. Where was she?
When she looked up now, instead of hills-turned-mountains, she was surrounded by buildings every which way. Billboards and ads shone down at her. It was so familiar and so unfamiliar all at once. She turned around, lost, and her eyes caught on the large shape of Asmodeus' face, his sultry smile beaming down from a high poster, letters flashing in bright lights under his chin.
She could have cried right there, to see the embodiment of lust's face, even so false. But she had an idea where she was now… the ring of debauchery. She'd been only once a few years ago, but it had to be.
People on the sidewalks, so familiarly impish yet human, shot her disgusted, disapproving looks as she ran past. For her disheveled gown right out of a renaissance fair or the baby she held, she didn't know. As she ran, a cramp stabbed sharply in her thighs. Last night, he had-
But she continued on, her pace slowing as the pain seemed to build.
A group of young twenty-something imps leaned against a stone building, cigarette smoke curling around them. "Hey, honey!" one of the men called, whistling loudly. Her eyes went wide and she looked around her. "Yeah, you!" he laughed. "Where's your baby daddy, baby?" She flinched, her stride quickening and her path widening, putting more space between her and the men leering. "Come lift up your dress and I'll take care of you, baby!"
"What the fuck, Igor?!" Alasriona heard one of the women in the group screech, but she was too busy jogging to get away to care, her face burning. But the pain was getting to her. She was gasping as she tried to move quick, stumbling in relief when she noticed an open restaurant just ahead. Ozzie's.
Her mind raced as she dragged her feet, heading toward it. Oh no… what was she going to do? She didn't have any...
She looked around, frantic. She saw a nice-looking old man sitting on a bench, munching on a hot dog and people-watching. In the midst of all the threatening young men around, he reminded her of her grandpa in the way he crossed one ankle over his knee and leaned back, arm strung over the back of the bench. Only a few feet away, the trek toward him felt like a marathon.
"Sir," she gasped, holding onto the bench with her free arm to keep herself up, rocking Stolas in the other arm to keep him from waking. She was feeling increasingly weak. "Sir, please. Do you have some- some change? I need- I need to get into Ozzie's-"
She clutched herself and doubled over. The man stood up quick to catch the baby while another stranger steadied her by the elbow, looking worried. "Honey?"
Al flinched away.
"Oh dear. Pardon me, I didn't mean..." he said, distressed-sounding. "Are you okay? Do you need a hospital?"
"No, no hospital..." she stood back up unsteadily. "The … the lord of this land. I need… to find… my friends…"
"Okay. Okay," he said softly, rustling around in his pockets and pulling out some quarters. He handed them to her and pointed down the sidewalk. She gagged for some reason, body heaving.
"Thanks," she said, voice cracking. She pushed off the bench, took her son and stumbled toward the restaurant.
The bouncer let her in, only out of shock seeing the state she was in, and the baby she desperately tried to keep asleep.
Alastriona made it as far as … a few steps? She collapsed on her back, and a performer cried out in shock and she swore she heard Asmodeus' cries of where is Paimon while his wife is a wreck? before passing out.
Alastriona's eyes flickered open briefly while in the hospital.
She saw… she saw angry red eyes staring at her. There he was, standing a few paces down her door, poised just so in his stance. An ugly scowl twisted his face.
Alastriona recoiled violently, staggering back in bed. Oh no. But it was like the strength in her body was oozing out, unchecked. Emptying her out until she was a hollow body, nothing left inside. She could barely understand when her feet stopped. She was magnetized to the sheets. An unnatural weight in her thighs that she recognized. "No…" she moaned out, sick.
Not one of the busy imps seemed to notice as the doe cried, frozen in place while her king husband loomed furious above.
Her heart pounded so strong it was all she could hear.
Her insides flinched away but her body stayed still as he pressed a hand to her thigh. She stared up at him, miserable and pathetic and helpless and terrified. He was blurry in her teary vision, but she would have been blind not to have seen the way fear struck across his face.
Her tongue must have been glued into her mouth for when she tried to speak, all that came out was a weak, mumbling noise.
His hand came down fast on her arm, gripping tight and digging into the bones there. She swayed as he dragged her into him, wanting to jerk away from him but unable to. He moved her so easily when she couldn't even move herself. Her eyes were wide, confused, but they flinched shut when magic hissed over them.
A sob left her as the sparkling lights of the sinful, lustful city blinked out.
Alastriona wanted to hide under the covers for ever and ever.
"I- I thought you could only go when permission was granted by a sin," she whispered, looking at her lap.
Paimon's voice was scornful. "And who told you that?"
Unease trickled over her.
"Your little friends, isn't that right?" he said icily.
Her heart stopped in her chest.
"That's right," he hissed, "I know exactly how you got Above. Those foolish wretches will be punished dearly for what they've done…"
She looked up, lurching forward, wild-eyed. "Paimon, mon coeur, no! It's not their fault. It was my idea! Please, don't- don't-"
"Silence, whore."
Her mouth snapped shut. Her anxiety ratcheted up a million notches as he slowly leaned forward in his chair.
"You stupid girl," he snarled. She flinched, looking up at him with wounded eyes. He stood up and bent over her, face too-close. She leaned back, but his hand came to grip her jaw tightly. "You are mine. I will always be able to find you, no matter how far you run."
The weight of her ignorance hit her as if it were a train ramming full speed ahead right into her chest.
"You like making a fool of me, hmm?" he said, fingers digging into her bones.
Her eyes watered and she tried to shake her head. "...No," the word warbled out of her.
"No?" he asked, "I think you do. After all I've done for you. Still, you defy me. How foolish is it of me to loosen your leash when you… repeatedly… show that you … cannot be trusted."
"I-I-" she stammered, jaw aching. "I can't trust you!" she sobbed. "I had a… I had a life. You've hurt me so much, I'm never gonna recover…"
"I've hurt you?" he said coolly, eyes full of rage piercing into her very soul. He cooed dangerously and tilted her face up so high she was so vulnerable to the room, to him, her neck wide open: "And what have I done that's so terrible?"
That unsettled her. Her voice trembled, "How- how can you not know?"
He scoffed at her. "I thought you grew out of this silly nonsense of yours, Alastriona."
"It isn't-!"
"Isn't it?" he said, the look in his eyes chilling her to the bone. "I've given you everything you've ever dreamed of. A castle to live in, jewels and silks to drape upon your body, food from the best cooks of the kingdom. An attentive lover and King for a husband—"
"Stop—!" She shrieked, covering her ears. Trying to wrench away from his bruising hold.
He continued, uncaring. "-an eternity of youth and beauty by my side. The gift of motherhood. All of this and you throw it back in my face. You ungrateful little wretch, when can I expect for you to grow up?"
She was shaking by the end of it. He let go of her roughly and she fell back. Silence stood heavy between them.
"…did you ever love me?"
A laugh escaped him. "Perhaps… I loved the potential you had. The fact you could give me an owlet and not a hybrid bastard."
The demoness' heart shattered in that moment. Rosie had been right… she always was. Like all men in her life, he was just another addition to the rule - never an exception.
Only Stolas, she could trust.
Rosie's smile grew fixed. "What do you mean, you can't annul it? He fucking kidnapped her just now!"
Asmodeus' head shook. "I'm not…sure how Goetia law works, but it's of its own kind. I haven't – every time I try to interfere or do something, his magic has locked me out. Seems Satan gave him…too much lenience."
Rosie went faint, and it was Zeezi who caught her. "And you…you're sure you can't do much?" asked the canine demon.
Asmodeus sighed. "Afraid I'm stuck as you are."
Rosie's eyes glossed over, blinking tears. "Al…" she whimpered.
"Paimon," the doe whispered. The owl shifted but didn't respond.
She touched his shoulder. "Paimon," she said again and shook him.
His eyes cracked slowly open, and then they snapped over to her. After a moment, he said: "What, Alastriona?"
She stilled, but barreled forward with it. She scooted toward him on her knees and grabbed his hand, brow furrowed and lips pursed. "I just- are you sure he's going to be okay? He's never been alone before. I mean, what if something happens to him? He's only two years old, Paimon! It's too soon! And- and- I was thinking. Up Above they've got these things called baby monitors. It lets you hear what's going on in the nursery... and, well, I didn't know… is there something we can do that's like that?"
"I told you already," he sighed, turning over onto his back. His voice rasped. "My magic is connected with his. If anything happens to him, I'll know immediately."
She sat back on her heels. "But… what if it's too late? To get to him if something has already happened?"
He glared at her and spoke slowly, spelling it out. "Alastriona. He's right across the corridor. There are guards outside his door and ours at all times. What do you think is going to happen?"
Alastriona hunched a little and looked down at her laps. Mulishly, she said: "The guards could do something-"
"The guards," he scoffed. "They would have to be fools indeed to think they would live after harming my child."
"Well, I don't know!" she threw up her hands. "What if he gets sick? I- I remember grandmother and grandfather talking about this thing where babies would just- just die in their sleep for no reason sometimes!"
The image crossed her mind and she had to blink back tears. "Mon roi, I'm sorry," she said, embarrassed, "I just- I can't stop worrying, I can't sleep. I can't take it. Please, can't we bring him back in here? For a little while longer?"
He rolled his eyes. "No, we can't. The separation is important right now. Surely you read that in one of your books?"
"... Yes," she said, wiping miserably at her eyes.
"I thought…" the doe's lips trembled.
"What did you think, Alastriona?" he asked, twirling at a piece of her hair.
She tried to roll away from him, to put distance between the two of them on the bed. He let her. She curled up on her side, facing away from him. Tears leaked.
"Well?" he wondered. She clenched her eyes shut.
"I thought- I thought we were done with that."
He was silent for a beat, then: "Why ever would you think that?"
She drew her knees up to her chest, shivering. "I already gave you your heir."
He touched her waist. "Yes, you did, precious thing. And I'm so proud of you for it. You were perfect."
A shiver of something ran through her. Gratification. Pride. He was pleased with her. When he praised her, she always got caught up in it.
He closed in behind her, curling up around her back. "Don't you want to experience that again? That joy, that rush? That feeling of your love expanding boundlessly with each child you bring into this world?" His beak pressed to the back of her neck. "Motherhood suits you, sweet Alastriona. You're beautiful with it. Look at how you are with Stolas. I know you love it. Am I wrong?"
Her fingers twitched against the arm he had wrapped around her. "...No."
He rubbed her belly. "What's the issue, then?"
She stumbled over the question. "It- it hurts. And it... scares me."
He tutted. "You cannot go through life without pain or terror or tragedy," he told her, "haven't you realized that yet?"
Alastriona stayed quiet. He nuzzled her neck. "And wasn't it worth it?" he asked. "If you had to go back in time to get rid of all the pain, all the fear, would you give up Stolas in order to do so?"
"No."
"Of course not," he soothed, his voice gentle, "I know you wouldn't. But just think how you'll feel with another babe to care for… don't you want that?"
It was true, she thought, she loved being around Stolas. She loved taking care of him. It brought something to her life she hadn't had before. It made sense that another one would only double that. But… the risk of it all.
"Besides," he said, brushing hair back from her face. "Don't you think he'd love having little siblings he can play with once they're a bit older? You know there are very few children around here. You wouldn't want him to be lonely, now would you?"
Her hands fisted in the sheets and she frowned. She hadn't thought of that. "...No."
"Of course not," he said, tracing his lips over her skin, "You want what's best for him, as you should." He touched her belly again.
Her hand fell on top of his. "After this one," she broached haltingly, "... can we please maybe… wait a few years? Before…"
"Let's take it one at a time, hmm?"
What could she do but agree? She nodded into her pillow.
"Paimon?" she whispered out only a moment later, a tiny little sound, barely there. "How many do you … want?"
He hummed. "Oh, I don't know," he said, thumbing now at the hollow of her collarbone. "The Fates will decide that, I think."
Her eyes closed and tightened. The Fates.
They were silent together, listening to the pitter-patter of rain on the glass window. The fire crackling. It was oddly silent without Stolas there. A melancholy was in the air. She blamed it for her silliness, for the blues that seeped into everything just then. It loosened her tongue.
The words meandered out, a sad, quiet observation that weighed on her: "I think I've had enough pain to last a lifetime."
In the wake of it, his silence crawled up her spine. He remained still behind her. The moment was heavy. His words pierced it. "Self-pity is an unattractive quality, Alastriona," he told her. She cringed, feeling his eyes boring into the back of her head. He was displeased with her.
Her neck grew hot and she fidgeted in his hold. "I'm grateful," she said quickly, "it's not that. I just…"
"You... just?"
She sniffled. "I don't know if I can do it. Not properly. Not well. It's like… what do I have to offer our… our kids? I'm less than nothing here. And- and.. I was nothing in life either. Don't you see, Paimon?" she whispered miserably, "I've never done anything with my life. I'm just- I'm just your whore!" She burst into tears and her words came stuttering. "That- that- c-can't- be good- for- them!"
He touched her shoulder then, urging her to turn onto her back, but she curled up tighter into her ball, just crying and resisting in her shame. Everything was wrong. Nothing would ever be right again.
But his strength won out and he turned her. She couldn't bear to look at him as she dissolved into more and more tears. She covered her eyes and wrenched her neck to the side, away from him. She could almost feel the skin of her throat stretching out, ready to snap.
He tugged her hands away from her face and she flushed with insecurity, sure snot was everywhere, making her ugly. He wiped her cheeks with his sleeves even as the tears continued coming quick, her fists clenched protectively under her chin. He tilted her face toward him, fingers along her cheek.
"You are not my whore," he said, "You are my wife."
"Same thing," she bawled out, body bowing with the unbearableness of it.
"It is most certainly not the same thing," he snapped. She flinched. "Don't devalue yourself like that. You insult me."
She fumbled. "I- I'm sorry, I-"
"You are not my whore," he said. "I chose you for a reason, Alastriona. I won't hear you debase our union or the products of it with such crudeness."
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I didn't mean it like … that." She hesitated. "...But…"
"But?" He loomed over her, staring down. Her heart thumped and her eyes darted all around, slippery in their sockets.
"... It doesn't make sense," she said, tears dripping. "... why would you want me for a wife or… to have kids with me? I'm too weak. What if the kids are the same? Then you'll really hate me! And you'll hate them too." Oh, the thought was too much. It hurt her. It killed her.
"You are not weak, Alastriona."
She was hiccupping. "How can you say that?"
"It's the truth."
It astounded her. He sounded so sure. "No, it's a lie," she sobbed. She kicked her feet at the end of the bed, tossing the blankets, childish.
He gripped her chin. Made her look at him. "I have never lied to you," he said, piercing her with his eyes. She stilled.
"You're stupid, then," she said, shivering again, "If- if you think that I'm not weak. Look at me. Where's my power?" she spat, the stuffiness of her voice weakening her words.
He scoffed. "This again, Alastriona?"
His fingers dug just a little too hard into her jaw and she whimpered. Her eyes cast downward. Tears welled up again as he stared at her, waiting. The rainstorm outside grew in strength, the pitter-pattering now a baseline roar, echoing around her. It felt like drowning.
"You have too much power over me," she rasped out, dangerous words on her tongue.
"Too much power," he repeated. He tilted his head, observing her. "What's too much?"
She pressed back into her pillow, eyes widening. She'd crossed a line, she thought.
"Tell me, Alastriona. I'm curious."
Her jaw worked, soundless, but he just raised an eyebrow. "... You control my life."
"I'm your husband, and your king."
"That's not how it's supposed to work!" she cried.
His lips twitched. "Says who?"
"I-I-" she stuttered, "E-everyone!"
"Everyone... human," he smiled at her, patronizing, "you mean?"
She quieted.
"We are not human," Paimon reminded her. "We are here. In my kingdom."
She winced. "I know that," she said quickly, chastised.
"Do you?" he loosened his grip on her jaw, then tickled over her cheek with the tips of his fingers, "It seems you forget so often. How am I to be sure?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He patted her cheek. "You do have power, Alastriona. You're just too conceited to realize it right now. But you'll learn."
She flushed. How could she believe him? Her nails were digging holes into her palms.
Her chest felt heavy. "You don't respect me," she said, imploring him with sad eyes. The thread she was hanging on tore at her, burned her.
"Oh, Alastriona," he said, "You think I don't respect you? Of course I do. Would I marry a woman I did not? Have a child with her?" He shook his head. "Don't be foolish."
It confused her, it set her heart all to sorts. Her eyes watered. And he cooed. He dabbed his fingers under her eyes and smiled. "How red your eyes are, like jewels in the rain."
No child came of the intercourse.
At first, Paimon blamed Alastriona's lack of willingness. She tried to obey. Tried to enjoy it. She didn't.
It grew more disgusting over time. She began to loathe his touch. His kisses. Looking at his face, hearing his voice – it began pissing her off.
She thought of pulling out a butcher's knife, slicing his throat. Licking up the blood. Rosie would like that taste.
The cannibal woman began visiting again, a year later. Stolas was three, and squealed loudly from his spot beneath the tree.
"Mummy, look! Pretty lady!"
Alastriona's smile grew. "So she is." She looked to her son. "That's your aunt Rosie," she cooed.
…
The only thing keeping Paimon's wrath from targeting Rosie was solely when Stolas called her 'auntie'. Had it not been for the owlet's gurgles, Alastriona doubted her friend would've faired well. She didn't care though. It was a long time since–
Somehow, Rosie has only grown more beautiful in the year it's been since they last saw each other.
But Al might be biased. She likes the way the hat frames her face. She's still wearing that vintage dress. It's familiar and comforting all at once.
Al knew it was custom for wives and queens to also wear their hair up here. But she liked the weight of her hair down her back, and she was stubborn to change.
"I missed you," Rosie said simply. I'm so sorry about –"
Al smiled and held her hands. "Let's not talk about him. He made his choice."
All is not well for the Goetia king.
Al no longer gives him the time of day. She's far too busy enjoying motherhood.
Strange to think having progeny would give her a reason to fight or to return to her normal self. Rosie rather have her not boxed into a sham marriage and have his offspring but beggars can't be choosers.
She'd never tell anyone this but Stolas does look…adorable…for an owl demon anyways.
Stolas was five years old when he ran into his parents' room, crying from a nightmare.
"Mommy! Daddy!"
He jumped onto the bed, and Alastriona sat up and held him in her arms. She rocked him gently and whispered to him sweet words.
"Shh, it's alright, ma bebe..." She kissed his head. "There, there."
"I- I had a bad dream...that you were taken away...it felt real," he cried, sniffling. "Mummy..."
She began to hum his favorite lullaby.
'It always feels so quiet in the dark,
It always feels so stark.
How silence grows under the moon,
And it's always gone so soon.
I used to think that I was bold,
I used to think love was for fun.
Now all my stories have been told,
Except for one.
As the stars start to align,
I hope you take it as a sign,
That you'll be okay.
Everything will be okay,
And if the seven Hells collapse...
Although the day will be my last,
You will be okay.
When I'm gone, you'll be okay.'
"I will never leave your side," Alastriona promised the owlet. She pressed her foreheard to his. "Never."
He nodded. "Okay, mummy..."
It was a lovely moment... until Paimon's shadow loomed over. "Alastriona, let go of him. He needs to stand on his own. You're spoiling him too much."
"He's a child," she hissed at her husband, smacking him in his chest. "Have some empathy."
"He's a future king. Don't make him weaker than he already is." Paimon turned around to get up and leave. "If you don't let go of him by the time I come back, I'll do things myself. There's other ways for him to go warm to bed that aren't as nice."
Eyes wide, she let go of their son. "Stolas, go to your room."
Stolas shuddered. He knew what his father could do, seeing his mother's bruises from previous rough nights. He heard how much it can hurt. "Y-yes, mummy..."
"Je suis desole..."
He rushed to his room and locked the door. He couldn't even hear the apology.
At night, he heard screaming and shouting.
Paimon took out his rage on Alastriona. It was impossible not to hear.
The owlet heard violent noises. He tried to pull the pillow over his head, but his mother's screams were deafening... as were his father's vile words.
Was that the whip?! It sounded like it, but sharper.
Words a child should never hear. "Whore", "bitch", and others. The insults. The accusations.
"Sometimes I wonder if he's even my son."
Everything piling up.
"YOU FORCED YOURSELF ON ME! HOW CAN HE BE ANYTHING BUT YOUR SEED?"
Stolas can't help but weep. Usually a child would be happy to be born of his own family, but... not like this. Not knowing that he's born from such a mess.
The next morning, his mother had multiple bruises that she tried to hide. But it was difficult to hide the marks on her face. Not even the best makeup worked.
Her eyes carried the look that... Stolas doesn't know much of the adult world, but he knew something wasn't right.
"Stolas, we... we can't do anything. He's too powerful..." Alastriona struggled to speak. She held herself as if she would crumble anytime. "Please, can you... go call Wilhelm? You know him. The butler. I... I don't feel well..."
"Of course, mummy."
"Merci..." She was so weak that she barely could speak.
Wilhelm knew how to fix up bruises. This, however, concerned him. Should a king beat his consort when she gave him an heir?
Should a man beat his wife at all? No, in a just world, he would not. But royals were unjust as could be. And how can an imp speak up?
Wilhelm liked keeping his head. But he had hearing and eyesight. He saw and heard things he wished he hadn't.
"You're close with that cannibal bitch. Does she munch your carpet while I'm out of sight?" The disdain in Paimon's voice wasn't something anybody could miss.
"How vulgar you are, my love. No, she does not." Alastriona's voice was filled with spite. "I hardly enjoy letting you bed me. You think I'd sleep with a woman after such a miserable man defiled me? Well, then again, it would probably be more enjoyable."
"If it weren't for me bedding you, the little twit you adore so much wouldn't have been born." The insult towards his own offspring - the butler blanked at this.
"He's your heir. Do you only forget that because I give him more attention than you, pathetic whelp?"
"Speak to me like that again, harlot, and I will have you rue the day you tried to escape. Let it be known I am a merciful ruler."
And a terrible husband, Wilhelm thought. The poor prince... must he take over role of father so that at least, at the very least, the prince's own child wouldn't have to suffer generational trauma? It seemed so.
Wilhelm took to healing Alastriona best as he could, and then began to teach Stolas to read when she was absent. Thankfully, the doe rarely was absent. She tended to her son, read him storybooks, taught him big words and proper vocabulary. He would be bright and shining, like a star - all thanks to his peasant mother.
How ironic.
Although I know our marriage was decided for selfish reasons,
I didn't care, because I truly thought I loved him.
He is a selfish bastard who keeps indulging his own wishes,
But I love our son more than my own life.
I will cut my son's shackles, make sure he doesn't have to suffer for the sake of legacy.
Paimon's fist clenched as he read the note.
He looked out the window to the garden, watching as Alastriona pushed Stolas on the swing.
She cared more for the brat than him, and in coddling that child...she was making his heir a weakling.
This wouldn't do, not at all.
…
At dinner, he announced out of nowhere:
"Son, would you like to meet with the Seren family's daughter...Stella?"
Stolas blanked. "I- I don't know."
Alastriona's teeth clenched. "No, he will not." She looked to her son. "That girl is terribly rude and uncouth. Unfit for you."
"O-oh..." Stolas buried himself into his mother's side, and she hugged him tight.
Fucking bitch I should have tossed you out into the streets like the gold digging whore you are- Paimon breathed in. "I think it'd be good. Political establishment, bonding with his future...uh." He stopped, seeing the doe's expression darken. "It's business, dear, surely you'd understand..."
"I was raised to believe in free will, sorry." Alastriona stood up and grabbed Stolas' hand. "Come, ma bebe. I will read you your favorite bedtime story."
Stolas beamed up at his mother. "Yay!"
Lilith didn't like the Ars Goetia. Pesky parasites, leeching from the magic that brought them life, given by her foolish husband. Loving husband, but foolish, foolish, foolish—
…still, a deal was a deal. This seemed promising enough.
"A vessel to have as my own…token… in exchange for a separation from that waif of yours?" the queen of hell mused. "You tempt me, Paimon. Though riddle me this – you seemed so smitten on the wedding day. How is it that it's all crumbled so quickly? Usually takes a few centuries…"
The owl demon glared. "Spare me your faux pity, Lilith. I give you permission in the contract to keep her soul. Isn't that enough? All I ask in favor…keep her away from my son. Wipe their memories, if you must."
"I can't fully make it go into a blank state." Lilith cracked a knuckle. "But I fragment it enough that she only recalls vague details. Same for the prince. Is that enough?"
Paimon rolled his eyes. "Just get the bitch out of my feathers."
Lilith held a sheet of paper out. "Then we have a deal."
'Prince Stolas,
Yes it is he, but not as you'll know him.
Read my lips, come to grips with reality.
Those personality flaws,
Give me adequate cause,
To send you packing on a one-way trip
Your prospects taking terminal dip.
Your assets taken,
Your life set blazing,
To the ends of our union!
So long...
Ex consort, Ala!'
Paimon closed his eyes and signed it. "May we never cross paths again…cunt."
'The day that you arrived, the sun went black.
An artificial night,
You came and stole away the light,
And put it in your eyes.
How could I possibly suspect
That you'd eclipsе the midnight sun?
I thought that I knew all the moons,
But then you pulled me back to one.'
Gentle, loving arms...
A warm, soothing voice...
Stolas couldn't recall what his mother looked like. She disappeared when she was eight, alongside his velveteen rabbit. He often hugged a rubber duck close to him, for Father gave it to him when he could not find his toy or Mother. Her voice, as much as he could remember, was beautiful and strong. She had not been an Ars Goetia or even an avian demon, but she was his mum - and that was enough for him to hold onto his love.
She loved him, he knew it. He remembered that lullaby of hers. But who was she? He wondered often as he grew older and older... yet never could he find her.
Stolas held his fist to his beak, stifling a cry. He looked over his seventeen year-old daughter. He barely made it out of a nasty divorce from his ex-wife, Stella of the Seren family. An arranged marriage by his father, who somehow was still alive...yet no longer king.
He wondered, now that he was free... now that he and Octavia could live their own lives free of the royal legacy... now that he and Blitzo could finally try and start a normal relationship... could he try and find his mother?
What could he go off of? She had been a sinner, and she was from the pride ring. So were many women. He hadn't any more leads. He tried asking Wilhelm for her photographs, but Wilhelm sighed and said they'd all been burnt.
Vassago was the second he approached. The parrot had a brief recognition in his eyes, yet stopped after and sighed. As though it all left in an instant.
How strange... and unfair. That almost killed him inside. Being unable to find the parent who actually loved him. How could this have happened? And to ask his father was impossible. Always cryptic, always unwilling to elaborate - he was lost.
Stolas laid in bed and sighed. He tried to bury that voice in the back of his mind, but her lullaby lingered longer and longer.
Alastriona hugged a stuffed rabbit close to her chest. Charlie had asked why she kept it around, and Al felt herself snap at the girl for the first time.
The rabbit, she felt protective over. Like it was her own child. Why? She couldn't recall. It had something to do with a lullaby though.
'If the stars ever align,
I hope you take it as a sign
That you'll be okay
Everything will be okay
And if the seven Hells collapse
Although the day will be my last
You will be okay
When I'm gone, you'll be okay
And if the heavens crash aground
I know you'll hear the trumpets sound
And you'll be okay
Everything will be okay...'
Tears filled her eyes.
Why couldn't she remember?
END NOTE COPIED FROM AO3 POST:
Kinda wanna make a cover of Lucifer and Charlie's duet but with Alastor and Stolas. :U this au makes me feel things.
Vassago cameo'd in the pilot originally as an overlord. He was supposed to be. He hasn't been retconned as one yet, though it seems now he's also an Ars Goetia though only in species. I hope it's just species, since I've been seeing people ship him and Stolas... and I don't want that to turn into some demon version of Alabama, even as a Stolitz truther (YES I still like this pairing despite Viv pulling them through the wringer and trying to pull some extra angst in s3! I refuse to let this ship die). But in this AU, he's already an adult + overlord when Al and Paimon get together...creative decisions, I guess. Hellborns age weird anyway so idk.
Songs used:
"My Son" - GDT's Pinocchio, original singer David Bradley
"Prince Ali (Reprise)" - Aladdin, original singer Jonathan Freeman (PAIMON...)
Stolas' Lullaby - Helluva Boss, original singer being the amazing Bryce Pinkham... also written by brilliant, BRILLIANT Sam Haft. Give him the grammy!
ALSO WOW THIS GOT LONG. Sorryyyyy... but also not because I love pain.