AN: As the last chapter was so short, I thought I should redeem myself and get the next one posted asap! I'm in my final exam period for uni now so I'm a little busy, but will post again as soon as I'm able!

All Ends That Ends Well: Part 2

JANUARY 31ST

Magnus walked his young tribe through the castle hallways to deliver them home. Despite vampiric vision requiring little light, the hallways were well-lit with torches on the walls casting a warm glow over the group. It contrasted sharply with their moods. Magnus had to stay a few steps ahead to lessen the effect of their feelings on his own. The anxiety coming from Felix and Odi was almost painful. Carlisle's annoyance added to Magnus' own through his powerful emphatic gift. Neither effect was welcome nor helpful for the Juggernaut's mood.

Seeing Magnus so angry with Turk and Corin hadn't improved the atmosphere. Even the younger ones were worried, and they arguably had less to worry about! It might have helped if Magnus had put his belt back on to take them home. The sight of the tongue of the dreaded leather implement dancing about on Magnus's broad back intensified their fears. Only Alec was happy, and his happiness seemed to irritate the rest.

Odi was suffering the effect more than the others, because Magnus was his father. He hadn't seen his dad so agitated in a very long time. Even running off into werewolf territory hadn't invoked this level of annoyance. He would have the longest to wait for judgement to be passed, too, which felt worse somehow.

Felix would have liked to trade with Odi. They were walking toward the south tower to deliver the king's children first. Each step Felix took made the poor kid want to flee. His father would be pissed not only about his attitude towards his grandfather (which was bad enough) but also about his behaviour in the library and his inaction with Eleazar. At least he'd been good in the woods. Good-ish. Good-ish, assuming his father hadn't heard some of his choice comments. He would be dead-ish if he had.

Rounding the corner to the south tower, Alec bounded past Magnus and threw open the door to his home. Jane quickly followed.

"Mama!" said Alec, bursting with excitement. "I've won a horse!"

He ignored his father waiting at the door and bounded over to Sulpicia, reading in her window seat.

"Oh, really?" said Sulpicia, confused. She dropped her book down next to her and returned Alec's hug. "Well, that's nice, I suppose?" she said, glancing at her husband and hoping he would explain. Aro merely rolled his eyes.

"It's really nice!" Alec said, and he started rattling off the excitement of his day.

Aro kissed Jane's head as she passed him, also seeking her mother. He wondered why he was there sometimes. Tutting, he went to the table and filled his empty goblet from the jug of bloodwine Sulpicia had heated ready for their children.

"It's cheating, is what it is," he explained to his wife. More quietly he added, "Caius is a conniving bastard at times."

Alec quit babbling and looked to his father, squinting a little as he processed his words. It sounded dangerously like Aro wasn't on board with providing the prize he'd agreed to.

"I will get a horse, won't I?"

"If he's getting one, I want one, too," said Jane, joining her brother.

The terrible twosome had their eyes fixed on their father.

"Maybe," said Aro. "Probably." With a deep sigh, he relented. "Eventually," he agreed, hoping they'd forget about the idea.

Through the open door, Aro heard Magnus barking at the rest of the ex-mission crew (and Carlisle).

"Wait there," he said, pushing Felix and Demetri through the tower doorway.

The boys went to the table and took their usual chairs. Sulpicia had their goblets ready and Aro hadn't drunk the whole jug dry yet. They poured themselves a drink, Demetri filling Alec's cup and taking it for himself.

"Mama—"

"Stop whining!" Demetri spat at Alec.

He'd had nearly two hours of Alec's wittering in the guard hall, and he couldn't take any more. And he knew Marcus would have blamed the spat he'd had with his baby brother entirely on his shoulders, not Alec's. No one blamed anything on Alec. Taking his cup was unnecessary, but Demetri wanted to wind him up.

Felix smirked at his brother, appreciating Demetri's idea. Maybe winding Alec up would see the boy blow and their father would concentrate on the baby instead of them.

"You can all stop whining," Aro said. He cuffed Demetri around the ear, took Alec's cup from his grasp before he'd managed to have a sip, and handed it over to his youngest. "Sit down first," Aro reminded Alec. Who did, and then took his cup, grinning triumphantly at his older brothers.

In unison, both boys thought, 'brat!'

Magnus dropped the reports on the table and close the door to behind him, leaving it a crack so he could hear the young ones waiting for him outside.

Aro looked at the clock, then back at Magnus. "Were you enjoying your time with them so much?"

Magnus snorted. "Something like that." It was closer to seven than six and he still had three more deliveries to make. "From now on, you can all collect your spawn yourselves."

Aro agreed as he would like the kids' reports to stay in the office - that way they could be kept away from prying eyes who had no need to see them. His children complained about their lot in life, grumbling behind him for saying as such.

"You look as happy as I do, Aro." Magnus shuddered. "I assume you've had the same message from your old man as I have?"

"Nip it in the bud?"

That wasn't quite the conversation Magnus had had with Basileus. "More like 'rain thunder'."

Aro shrugged. It didn't sound so different to him.

"What's this?" Magnus tapped Aro's left cheek where a purple bruise was forming. His immediate assumption was that Sulpicia had fought back, and as Aro offered no explanation, that was the assumption he was left with.

"My queen, could you read and sign these?"

"Sign?" Sulpicia asked, drifting to Aro's desk for a quill and ink. "Are we keeping proper records?"

"You know he likes forcing the rest of us to do paper work."

Aro rolled his eyes. "So funny."

Whilst Sulpicia read her children's books, Aro read over her shoulder, scanning for highlights. He went around the table and slapped each of his children in turn.

"One for you," he said.

"Daddy!" said Jane, rubbing her head.

"And one for you."

Despite his effort, Felix failed to jerk his head away in time. "Dad!"

"You have plenty more coming, son."

"But why?" he whined. His father couldn't have read enough to decide that, surely?

"Demetri," said Aro, warning his boy. "Sit up straight."

Demetri huffed but took his head from beneath his arms and sat up. A slap on his head was his immediate reward. "I notice the precious baby gets nothing."

"I'm well behaved," Alec pointed out smugly.

Aro made a funny noise. He couldn't agree with that. "You're marginally better behaved than the rest of them, but you're on thin ice."

The wind blew out of Alec's sails, despite coming off better than his siblings.

"Very thin ice," Sulpicia confirmed as she signed the boy's book.

"Volturi coven masters, not your friends," Aro continued. "Your cheek will no longer be tolerated. No more fighting, not among yourselves or with anyone else."

Demetri and Alec guessed that was aimed at them. "We weren't properly fighting," said the older of the two. "We were just messing around."

"I know that, Dem."

Aro's tone was so calm that the boys immediately sensed danger. "If I thought for one second that you were actually fighting, I would have hauled you both—" he stressed both so Alec couldn't later pretend this little conversation hadn't included him "—over my knee already, wouldn't I?"

Demetri and Alec quickly glanced at their mother, but the deep furrows of her brow as she read their reports put them off.

"Frankly," Aro went on. "You are ALL lucky to be sitting in those chairs right now."

Sulpicia took up her quill again and signed Jane's book, telling her husband that he may change his mind once he'd read their reports in full.

Felix had no desire to stick around for that happy moment. "Can I go back to the guard hall?" Before his father could start going on about 'supervision' and the like, he added, "Magnus will be there…"

"I've already told you no, young one," said Magnus. "You've had two hours in there. That's enough. You spent most of that time in Corin's dorm.

Magnus didn't mean to make things harder for Felix, but he also didn't mind seeing the look of desperation on his face. Defiance seemed to be a contagion for vampires, particularly younger ones - if one tried it, they all did. And Felix being defiant was damn near guaranteed. The young prince made life harder for all the adults around him and he needed bringing to heel if the new education programme had a hope of working.

"And you allowed them to do that?" Aro asked the man.

Magnus shook his head. "Expressly forbade it."

"I might go to bed, instead," said Felix, rising from the table. He wanted to put some distance between himself and his father as quickly as possible.

"You've got some work to do for Marcus first, young one."

"Now? But we've been out all day." Felix shook his head looking aghast to Magnus. Why was he being such a cruel bastard?

Magnus's presence in the tower was starting to really piss the kids off. Conversely, Aro liked it when Magnus visited the Darkside - it was a rare event, but it made life more interesting.

"You wanted to go back to the guard hall a second ago, son," Aro said to his boy, smiling cruelly. "Surely you have the energy to do a little writing?"

"I didn't ask to go to the guard hall," Demetri pointed out. "I don't have the energy."

"Neither do I," Alec agreed with his brother.

Jane looked at the boys in her family, thinking what utter armatures they were. Quite predictably, for Jane at least, Aro made their lot in life worse.

"In that case," he said to his youngest boys. "You two can go to bed, and you can also explain yourselves to Marcus tomorrow when you have nothing for him."

"Dad!" the boys burst at the shock of their chairs being pulled away from the table so roughly.

"Bed."

Demetri shook his head. "We'll be in trouble with Marcus."

Aro nodded. "Whose fault will that be? I know Eleazar let you and Odi slob about when you should have been racing, too."

From out in the halls, Odi's voice came through loud and clear. "Any need for that, Aro?" It was one thing being pissed with your own kid, dobbing someone else's in was a quite another.

Magnus went to the door and hung his head out. "I'd hush up if I were you, young one."

Sulpicia flipped back and forth through Demetri's book. She had just finished reading and signing his report, but there was nothing at all from Eleazar, which she pointed out to her husband.

"Lazy bastard," Aro said to himself. He tried sending Alec and Demetri to bed again—to many giggles from Jane and the Denali girls listening in the hall—but Sulpicia intervened.

"Paper, ink, and quills," she said to her little demons. "Quickly!"

They all scurried away aside from Felix. He wouldn't rush to write pointless reports for Marcus after he'd written such nasty things about him (Felix assumed the notes would be nasty).

After catching sight of Aro scowling, Sulpicia gave Demetri's book to him and stated, "My love, they can't go to bed. They have chores to do."

Felix snapped. Out all day, no time with Corin (or not enough), homework, chores…and his father would want a word as soon as Magnus was gone. "For fuck's sake!"

It just came out. As soon as the words left his lips, he regretted it.

"Your presence is no longer required," said Aro.

He smiled at his boy as though he'd won somehow, which, Felix realised, he had in a fashion. Aro now had a reason to send Felix to his room and give him a round of fucks in the process. He cursed his stupid mouth.

"Fetch it and go to my bedchamber."

Blinking, Felix processed Aro's words. He wanted to go to his own room, not his parents'. No, no, no. That wasn't good.

"I went to fetch it myself," Aro went on. "I told you to find somewhere prominent for it, but alas, I couldn't find it."

"Oh." Felix knew what 'it' was, and that was worse than his parents' room. Realisation dawned on his face. "But—"

"Do not keep your father waiting," said Sulpicia, looking up from his report. "This is awful, by the way. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I'm sure it makes for an interesting read. I expect I'll need restraining when I get around to setting eyes on it." The lack of any humour in Aro's tone saw Felix hastily leaving the room.

The boy's siblings all tittered at the table. It was funny, they couldn't help it.

Demetri and Jane knew that Aro would be too distracted reining in Felix and might forget about their misdeeds, so they were already making whispered plans to sneak some bloodwine upstairs to aid their brother's recovery.

"You've all screwed up today," Aro told them, slamming Demetri's book on the table. "I hope you've got it out of your system because there will be hell to pay if I read reports like this tomorrow!"

He went to the door and flung it wide open, stepping into the castle hallway.

"Did you all hear that?" he asked, catching each one by eye until they'd at least nodded. "Hell to pay," he said again.

Sulpicia gasped and exclaimed to herself as she went through the notes in her eldest son's book. She could have rung his neck for him - she still might!

"If it helps, my queen," said Magnus, "I don't think his report is any worse than some of the others."

"I assume you haven't read Odi's yet?" Aro asked. He had, and he expected Magnus would feel the same as he did soon enough.

Magnus wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and shook his head. "It wouldn't look too good if I gutted my baby boy in the guard hall."

"Dad!" Odi gasped from the hallway.

That was Magnus's cue to leave. He quickly explained about Afton and Alex being added to the school day, and why. In return, Aro asked him to send the first guard he passed to the south tower with a hammer and nail.

Aro pulled his wife in close with an arm around her waist. For the past two hours, they had enjoyed the silence of their home, a silence that was rarely there. The new programme for entertaining and educating the coven youth was Aro's best idea since the alliance with the major covens. It frustrated him, therefore, that the young vampires who attended had misbehaved to one degree or another on the first day! Aro's four children had all disappointed him. He was tempted to scold them immediately, but they appeared exhausted, had chores to do, and time was running out.

"Go on, my love," said Sully. "I'll take care of these three."

The three in question looked at their parents quizzically. What did that mean? Before the Outcast mission, the boys would have grinned from ear to ear hearing their mother was taking over. But that was before she had so viciously taken them to task. Aro didn't look too comfortable with the idea, either.

Sulpicia tutted at them all. "Let us hope a 'round of fucks' will be enough, shall me?"

Whilst the young vampires laughed in shock at hearing their prim and proper mother speak in such a way, Aro's face scrunched up like he'd tasted bad blood.

"Sul!"

Some days, Aro used fuck like a comma, but he hated hearing his sweet and delicate wife speaking in the same way.

She chuckled seeing the look on his face, and kissed his cheek, handing over the leather bound book with their eldest child's name on the front.

"It could be worse. Not much worse," she admitted, dripping with disappointment over their boy's actions that day. "But it could always be worse."

Aro shushed her playfully. "Don't let them hear you, my queen." He had one eye on his children, who had the sense to start scribbling their way through the paper Marcus had set for them. "They'll take it as a challenge."

Sighing to himself, Aro opened Felix's book and began to read as he slowly made his way through the south tower. The creator's comments were added early in the day. He read his father's account - the attitude, cheekiness, showing off in front of his playmates, winding Irina up…a whole page on Felix's failing from what could only have been ten minutes of interaction!

As he climbed the stairs to his bedchamber on the second floor, he flipped the page to read Marcus's comments. Three pages recording Felix's obstinance, pushing and shoving his younger brothers. Arguing with Jane, Odi, Carlilse, and Irina. Felix and Corin had been told to unhand each other more times than Aro could count, and neither paid Marcus adequate attention. Marcus had written a note about Felix's attitude to the reports themselves, quoting the boy:

Felix said: Those fucking reports are beneath my station as a prince'.

The next lines caused Aro to sneer. Felix had argued repeatedly throughout the two-hour session and had even squared up to the library master over the damn reports!

As Sulpicia said, Eleazar only made a few comments about his nephew, all related to his cocky attitude and errant mouth. Magnus's section was equally short but damning: refusing to follow direct orders, back-chatting at every opportunity, pressuring Turk to serve him the good stuff rather than the kiddie version of bloodwine (and Turk relenting and doing exactly that when he wasn't even supposed to be working on the bar).

Clearly, it had been a shit show. By the time Aro made it to his bedchamber, he was ready to throw Felix out the window.

Felix hadn't entered his parent's room. He stood outside the door, holding the braided belt that Sulpicia had stuck him with a week earlier. His father had turned his room upside down in his search for the dreaded implement. Felix didn't know why he'd wanted it, but he'd put a lot of effort into finding it - he didn't check underneath the bathtub where Felix had stashed the horrible thing. At some point, the boy expected to receive the command to tidy his room, a task that would no doubt consume his entire evening. That was a problem for later, however. He had quite enough problems for the time being - his father, the belt, and his parent's bedchamber.

"Get in there," Aro said, seeing his boy near the door. He didn't wait for compliance before the round of fucks began. "Less than a week ago, I made it clear you would have ample opportunity to impress me with our new plans." He reached for his son and pointed two fingers at him, jabbing his shoulder. "You failed on the first day."

"Failed?" said Felix. His bottom lip already trembled, and his voice sounded weak and vulnerable. "Dad, listen, please, I know I was a bit mouthy with Grandpa this morning and I could have been better with Marcus. I did what Eleazar wanted, though, and I was good with you and Caius, wasn't I? I think I was. I think? I barely even spoke to Magnus so I couldn't have annoyed him—"

Aro swung the door open to his bedroom and stood back. "In here and—"

"But Dad, please just listen."

Growling at his son's insubordination, Aro stalked past Felix and headed straight for the chair with the dented arms rests. He swung it into the air and brought it down with a thud in the centre of the palatial bedchamber and commanded his boy to sit in it.

Felix whimpered from the doorway and finally entered the room. "May I stand?" He tried to explain that he was still sore from last night's belting, that he had been sore since he got back to the coven thanks to his mother's belting.

Aro showed no sympathy for his predicament, mostly because he didn't believe it. Instead, he grabbed a fist full of the boy's tunic, dragging him across the room and dumping him in the chair he so feared. Felix gasped as his backside hit the seat. The cushion might as well not be there for all the comfort it offered. Aro merely tutted at his response and snatched the belt from his hands.

"I don't have to use this," he said, waving the braided belt around. "Your grandfather has requested I do for the cheek you showed him alone, or something similar."

Felix didn't know what something similar would entail, but he was tempted to ask for it. However, Aro's tone dropped when he said it, and it sounded a little ominous.

"Your grandmother, however, has requested we form a truce."

Felix scoffed involuntarily. "You wouldn't have brought me in here for a truce."

Aro scoffed, too, and there was a hint of sarcasm when he did so. "You seem to pay more attention to me when I bring you in here. You know it's serious and the thrashing will be more severe if you fuck about."

"So," said Felix, suddenly wearing a goofy grin. "No thrashing at all if I don't fuck about?"

Crack!

"Jesus, Dad!" Felix wrapped both hands over his thigh when the belt landed. It wasn't delivered with any particular force, but it was enough to get his attention. Felix rubbed for all he was worth until the sting subsided.

"Mind your mouth and put your hands on those armrests," said Aro, icy cool. He waited for Felix to comply. With a final rub, the boy placed a hand on each armrest and focused his attention on his father and that belt.

Aro began pacing. He couldn't stay still with the energy building inside him - it would end badly for them both if he allowed his inner beast to take over again. The previous evening, Aro had come close when he'd been so hard on Felix, and he couldn't let that happen again for both of their sakes. As Basileus had reminded him, he needed and was capable of more self-control than that.

"Your grandmother has informed me I've been difficult to live with, apparently—"

"I didn't tell her that. I swear I didn't."

Aro paused his pacing, raised his eyebrow, and looked down his nose at his son. His children knew better than to interrupt - knew better, but often did it anyway. Felix, in particular, had no control over his mouth. Aro had let the first instance go, but that was twice in as many minutes, and he was not in the mood for anymore of the boy's impertinence.

Once Felix had realised what he had done, and said a quiet sorry, Aro continued.

"I've been on your case, she said, and—"

"I didn't say anything!" This time, Felix got to his feet. The panic of the potential injustice of being blamed for Atia moaning at Aro drove his actions. "I didn't say a word, it wasn't me—"

Crack!

Aro wrapped his belt around Felix's left calf. "Sit your ass back down."

After hopping for a moment as he grimaced through the sting, Felix retook his seat and began to furiously rub at his leg until Aro said 'hands' and he placed them on the armrests again.

"If you interrupt me once more…" Aro drifted off and turned away from his boy.

Behind him, he heard Felix begin to sniff and he knew his son was crying. He hadn't hit him hard enough to bring tears to his eyes, so Aro assumed it was the situation. Which was frustrating! If Felix felt so upset in these situations, why would keep provoking them?

"For your own sake, do not argue with me. You'll cause a reaction we'll both regret for the rest of our days. You hear me?"

Felix quickly nodded, despite not knowing what Aro was talking about.

"It's no secret I've been struggling to forgive your actions."

Felix bit his lips to keep his thoughts contained. When do you ever?

"I make no apologies for that."

Again, Felix thought, when do you ever?

"You came up with a stupid plan that could have cost you your life, and your brothers and—"

"It wasn't just my plan, Dad." Felix slapped his hands over his mouth. "Sorry, I'm sorry!" he said from between his fingers, too little, too late.

Crack!

Another stinging stripe levelled across his thighs. Felix should have been grateful for the how little weight Aro was putting behind each assault. They were warning shots to tell him to mind his mouth, the same sort of warning he'd had a thousand times in his vampiric life. Hundreds of thousands of times. So, he should have been grateful, but no. No gratitude, no repentance. A little self-pity, and a lot of indignation.

"Next time you'll be over that chair, not sitting in it!" Aro dragged a hand through his hair. Why did this child have such a death wish? Why must every encounter end the same way? Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut for five bloody minutes? "Like I said," he breathed out deeply, trying to rid his body of the stress his eldest child caused. "I've struggled with it. You've been testing me since we got back from France and—"

Oh no, that was one bit of bullshit too far! Felix snorted at the very idea, in fact. "I've been walking on egg shells and you've been on my case!"

"You had to force my hand, didn't you?"

Felix planted both hands on his legs and flinched away from his father when he got too near.

"Up, now."

When Felix failed to move, Aro took his inaction for disobedience. He ground out his son's name as if it were a slur. He was rapidly running out of rope for the boy, who was doing nothing to help the situation. Aro knew his mother was correct - he'd been difficult to live with, particularly for Felix to live with. HE wanted to draw a line under the unpleasantness and more forward. For that to happen, Aro needed to have his alpha urge contained, and Felix needed to stop provoking him. All it would take is a month or so of his children behaviour well and everything could go back to normal. Felix, as usual, seemed intent on screwing up the plan. Aro found it so predictable that it was painful.

His boy still wasn't moving.

Felix cried freely in his chair and wiped furiously at his eyes and the tears that he felt betrayed him. Aro saw the dampness on his collar and the hair at the base of his neck curling slightly from sweat. He contemplated ending it all and sending him to his room. There was enough to keep Felix busy up there if he did. Aro had trashed his son's bedroom in his attempt to find the belt he now held in his hand. The boy had homework to do, too. Was that enough 'punishment'? The other three only had the homework and a few chores Aro and Sully had thought up.

But Felix had behaved so poorly compared to his siblings. His disregard of Magnus and his disrespect for Marcus had got under Aro's skin. Aro might grumble about Magnus and Marcus sitting too high thanks to their kinship with his father, but he expected his children to show them both the respect they were due as coven masters. Felix had failed miserably that day. And his disobedience continued as he was still sitting in that bloody chair!

Aro sighed, shook his head to relenting, and got on with the show.

"I've had enough of this," he said, and grabbed a fistful of Felix's tunic at his shoulder. The fabric tore within his grip, and he'd pinched the boy's skin when he'd grabbed him.

Felix whimpered and finally stood up. "Please—"

"Enough!" Aro snapped, cutting off any pleas Felix planned. He manhandled his son into position, all but throwing him over the back of the chair. "Remember what I said about fucking about?"

Crack!

This wasn't like the first three strikes Aro had delivered. This one hurt. Really hurt. It wasn't so heavy-handed as Aro had been the night before, but Felix felt it to his core.

The height of the backrest on the chair he had been unceremoniously dumped over was high enough that the boy's toes only just touched the floor. Felix had seen Demetri hanging over it a couple of times - his feet had nowhere to go, and he would kick with every strike. He'd be punished more for the kicking, too. Felix wouldn't risk that. Instead, he squeezed his hands into the armrest, his fingers finding the grooves he'd made from his many times before.

Four more strikes landed in quick succession, and, despite his best efforts, Felix cried out for a reprieve.

Aro leant down to speak into his ear. "You were warned. You practically begged for this."

Felix shook his head, tears flowing freely and running down his face, dripping off his nose. "I didn't, Dad. I didn't mean to, I just—"

"You just couldn't help it? You just didn't think me worthy of respect? You are just too big for your britches?"

Without giving time for a reply, Aro stood and swung the belt another five times. It made an awful whistle through the air on its travels and Felix tensed every muscle in his body each time. Aro was careful not to lay the whole length on his son's backside. He'd seen the damage that had done when Sully had taken their boys to task. Instead, he flicked up just before impact, creating a whipping effect that stung like hell, but wouldn't cause any damage.

In that moment, however, Felix didn't appreciate his father's efforts and he cried out each time the braided belt landed.

Aro stopped and turned to the bedchamber door, sure he'd heard something. If one of the younger ones were listening outside the door, he planned on bringing them inside to join the party.

It wasn't the other children, it was his wife's voice he'd heard: "My love?" she called again. "Afton is here at your request?"

"Perfect." Aro grinned at Felix, still doubled up over the chair. "Send him up."

Felix gaped at his father. Afton would be joining them. Afton? What kind of cruel punishment was this? He began easing himself off the chair.

"Get back down," said Aro, simply, oozing the kind of calm that caused a shiver down his son's spine.

"If I've been on your case, it's because you've been an obstinate little shit, showing off with grand plans for more stupidity—"

With the crack that followed, Felix's feet left the floor, and he coiled his legs up to protect himself, just as his little brother always did. "I was joking," he whined.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Aro slapped lazily on his son's legs until his toes were on the rug again.

"You deserve far more than you got with this werewolf hunting stunt, and you know it."

Felix baulked at the very idea! Aro may have wished to give him 'more', but Felix would contest to the death that he deserved it.

"My lord?"

Aro listened again. Aside from his son's sniffing and sobbing, he heard footsteps on the stairs. Placing a hand on Felix's back, he warned the boy, "You move an inch and I'll bring him in here to watch."

Heaving a heavy sob, Felix bobbed his head and pressed his hands in harder on the armrests. The wood had been compressed over the years to breaking point, and that's what happened - the wood creaked and snapped within his grip. Felix continued to squeeze and felt splinters sticking into his skin. The sting in his hand was nothing compared to the sting on his bottom and his legs, but it was a welcomed distraction, regardless.

Aro went to the bedchamber door and called out for Afton. He wasn't pleased to see the guard and made his displeasure known with his abruptness. He pointed at the wall opposite the door. "Wait there."

"Yes, my lord." Afton got in position and focussed on the floor, hammer and nail in hand.

Aro bobbed his head, then slammed the door. It bounced on its hinges, rebounding open and then closed to again. When Felix glanced to his left, he saw the crack in the door and Afton beyond.

"And today," said Aro, snapping Felix's attention back to his father. "The very first day and you're running your mouth, squaring up to a coven master, and showing off!"

Crack!

"Always with the showing off."

Crack!

That was enough, Aro decided, when he saw his son limp and crying. He threw his belt on the bed and told Felix to sit down.

Gingerly, Felix rose from the chair, glancing again to his left and catching Afton's eye. The guard looked away as soon as Felix saw him, but it was too late for Felix - the shame washed over him like water, covering every inch of him. Afton would make his life a living hell, he knew it. He would be teased in the guard hall for the next century, at least.

"Dry it up, son."

Felix scowled at his father. There was no need to say that and definitely no need to say it so loud. He wasn't crying. Sobbing didn't count as crying. His eyes were barely moist. Bastard.

"We didn't have to do that, Felix, but you always push for it, don't you?"

Absolutely not. "I guess."

When Felix tried to support his weight on the broken armrests, they crumpled beneath him, and he landed hard on the not so cushioning cushion. He cried out as he landed heavily on the seat of the chair, splinters littering the floor.

"Did you do that on purpose?"

"No!" Felix insisted. "I swear!"

Aro shook his head. He wanted an end to the unpleasantness and a chair he didn't particularly like was the least of his worries.

"I want to call a truce…" Aro paused and reminded himself that he'd been told to call a truce by his mother, but he did want one. "I'll stop being so 'difficult to live with' and you will drop the attitude and quit testing me. Do not argue!" he added before his boy could make matters worse. Again.

Felix had no argument left in him as he shifting uneasily in his seat. All he cared about was standing up to ease the sting on his bottom.

"Well?" Aro asked, pressing his son. "Would you prefer we deal with this properly?"

More? Felix shook his head quickly. "Truce, please."

Aro paced in front of his son on the broken chair.

Watching Felix carefully, he tried to work out whether he was regretful enough to truly agree. He could use his gift to see inside his mind. But Aro knew he'd be playing with fire doing so - it was just as likely that Felix wanted a truce, too, as it was that he was calling his father an evil cunt in thought. When Aro saw his son crying and the chair's broken armrests, he came up with an idea to show Felix that he wanted to move on from the whole sorry episode.

"Get up," he said, heading for his son.

It was like a lead weight had dropped in Felix's stomach. He couldn't move, but he begged his father with his eyes. "You said a truce, though?" he half sobbed.

Aro wasted no more time asking the boy to comply. For a second time, he dragged his son out of his seat and Felix heaved a heavy sob in anticipation.

Shaking his head over his son's desperate pleas for mercy, Aro plucked the broken chair from the floor and went to the window. Throwing the shutters open wide, he snapped the chair in two over his knee and flung it out to the ground below. He perhaps should have checked there was no one walking beneath. As no noise came besides the wood shattering, so he closed the shutters again and turned on his bewildered boy.

"See? A truce." He flashed to his son's side and used his shirtsleeve to wipe at his face, trying in vain to clean him up a little. Aro knew how Felix would feel seeing Afton, and doing so with a tear-stained face would only make it worse. "You look a better already."

Felix did feel a little better, actually. It was just a chair, an old one at that, so it shouldn't hold any power over him. But it did. It made him feel sick just seeing it. Watching it flung out the window like an old chamber pot was joyous! It was a clear demonstration of his father's willingness and commitment to a truce, too. Felix could see that.

The boy gulped down the last of his sobs and wiped the stray tears from his cheeks. "Yes, sir," he said. "A truce."

With nothing to be gained in pressing the matter further, Aro nodded and headed for the door. He called over his shoulder for Felix is 'bring it,' and went to speak with the guard on the second floor landing.

Afton had sensibly remained where Aro had placed him. His hands clasped together in front of his waist, holding a hammer and a small cotton bag with nails protruding through the cloth. With his eyes trained on the wooden floor, he greeted his king.

Aro did not return his guard's greeting.

"Why am I not pleased to see you, Afton?"

Afton looked up for a moment, his eyes locked with his king's, and he wondered how he could have offended the man without being near him. He had stayed where Aro had told him to wait, so…

"Oh," he said, realisation dawning. "The hall? My apologies, my lord."

Looking Afton up and down, Aro allowed the sneer he wore to do the talking.

"I really do think this is a great thing you're trying, my lord." Afton sounded sincere, but it wasn't enough. Aro still did not respond. "The whole coven is talking about the new programme. It's been the best day around here since the first Christmas we had—"

"How very curious, then," Aro began, cutting Afton short. "That you would seek to undermine the whole bloody thing on the first day?"

Afton had the good grace to nod curtly and look away, shamefaced.

Aro gestured to his son standing behind him, still snivelling despite his desperate attempt to appear stoic. "He's done the same thing, but he is only sixteen and he's had his ass handed to him." Aro paused and jabbed a sharp finger into Afton's shoulder. "You're older than I am, for Christ's sake. When are you going to grow up?"

No response came from Afton as he couldn't deny the truth in Aro's words. Afton wasn't naturally vindictive, but he was easily led, and failed to think of the consequences too far in advance (quite like his younger coven counterparts, as Aro had pointed out). "Again, my lord, I apologise."

Aro considered the man for a moment. He was glad Magnus had put Afton and Alex on report. How they would be dealt with should any negative comments appear would be a headache for another day. Preferably that day, it would be Magnus's job to sort out.

Ignoring his disruptive guard, Aro turned to his son. He took the braided belt from Felix and gave it to Afton, much to his son's shame.

To Felix he said, "Show him where you want it nailing, and make sure I can easily find it the next time we have need."

Aro watched his boy for a moment, making sure there would be no resistance. He really, really didn't want to ruin the new truce, because Felix started arguing with Afton once he was out of the way. The boy looked so forlorn, so sorry for himself, that Aro doubted he had the energy to start another conflict with anyone.

Hooking a finger under his chin, Aro tipped the boy's head so he could see into his eyes. They were black as coal and red rimmed, tears glistening. He would have benefited from an early night, but there were too many things for Felix to get done before he could head for bed.

"You also have homework to do and a room to tidy," said Aro. "Hurry up."

"Yes, sir."

Aro left them then, and Afton headed for the stairs with Felix limping behind.

Afton went slowly, so the boy had no reason to rush, but he was still too quick for Felix. Pausing his step, Afton looked behind him and offered the boy a tight smile. "Are you alright?"

"Fine."

"Seriously, are you?"

Felix stopped, too. "You could at least wait a day before you take the piss." He shook his head and huffed to himself, feeling bitterly annoyed by Afton's mere presence.

"As you just heard," said Afton. "I'm older than your father and he's still giving me a regular round of fucks."

Felix looked up at the man curiously. Surely, he could see the difference? "He doesn't treat you like he treats me."

Afton laughed, with no hint he was mocking the boy. "I'm his 32-year-old subordinate and you are his 16-year-old son," he said. "So, I'd hope not."

They arrived at the boy's room soon enough, too soon for Felix. As Afton pushed open the creaking bedroom door, a wave of shock and disbelief washed over him. Afton had seen the boy's room before when Sulpicia had asked for a few jobs to be done - he'd replaced the glass in a broken window and he'd fixed the shutters, too. It had been a relatively clean and tidy space, then.

The boy had a large room for his own, with each wall covered in heavy blood-red tapestries embroidered with scenes from Greek mythology in golden threads. They kept the room nice and warm. His huge four posted bed held matching curtains which Felix rarely closed. Wooden closets flanked the wide windows, with chests of drawers running between them covered in wolf pelts and cushions. Felix sat there sometimes when he read and watched the world go by through the window. This was usually due to boredom after being banished to his room, of course.

Now, however, the room had been transformed into a chaotic battleground. The wooden furniture lay scattered like fallen soldiers, with the bedclothes strewn across the floor like tattered banners. His prized tapestries, meticulously woven with tales of valour, now dangled precariously from the walls, their rich threads entangled in the chaos. The flickering firelight revealed the cruel aftermath of his father's wrath, as if a storm had ravaged the tranquillity of the space. His father's relentless search for that belt had left no corner untouched; drawers lay wrenched open, clothes cast aside. The crossed swords that usually hung above his bed had been ripped from the wall, too. Aro hadn't just been searching for his belt - he'd purposely wrecked the boy's room in his rage.

At least someone had lit his fire, so the room was warm - an improvement on his first day working on the wolf pelts when he'd returned to an ice block of a bedroom.

"How do you get away with keeping your room in this state?" Afton stood in the doorway, too surprised to move. It took Felix jabbing him in the back to get him moving again, stepping over the bedsheets that had been flung across the room. "What the hell happened in here?"

Felix looked around, too. His room was fucked. Completely fucked. "My father," he said, bending to collect his sheets from the floor. He shot back up, gasping, eyes tearing as his britches stretched tightly across his backside. The burn went deep. To his shame, a small sob escaped his lips.

Afton could guess what was wrong with the boy. He had often been in the same position at Felix's age, and not much had changed - though now it was his back that burned from punishment rather than his backside.

"Just take them off," said Afton, gesturing to the boy's britches. "No point suffering."

Felix would have preferred just about any other guard in the castle to be with him in that moment. Except Alex, perhaps. His venomous blood mocked him, pulsing where Aro had laid that damn belt. With a swipe of his eyes, Felix said there was no need, and that he didn't know what Afton was talking about. None of which convinced either Afton or Felix himself.

When he tried to bend down for a second time, determined to pick up those sheets, he managed it, but the tears came back with earnest, too.

"Take them off," said Afton again, a little more forcefully.

He took the sheets from the boy and threw them on his bed in a bundle. The desk on the right side of Felix's bed was the only thing still in position, so Afton dropped his hammer and nails on it and set to work. He flashed around the room, collecting up all manner of items from the floor and added them to the bed with the bedsheets. By the time Felix had shuffled out of his britches, Afton had piled his whole room onto his bed for him.

The bed was chocked full of almost everything Felix owned - clothes, games, goblets, a sword or two, boots, books, even the painting supplies his mother had brought him a few Christmases ago which he'd never touched. Aro had clearly been through every inch of his room.

"You won't have to bend down to put things away now," said Afton, dropping some damp towels on the pile.

"Thanks," said Felix, sniffing. He threw his evil britches on top, and Afton caught sight of his legs and the red raw stripes they bore.

"Was that because of what you said in the woods?" Afton asked. "I guess he took his revenge?"

Felix wasn't sure about that. Aro hadn't mentioned anything about the woods. Caius had told him off each time he'd heard the boy calling his father some rather choice names (mostly in conversation with Carlisle and Odi).

"Did Caius grass me up?" Felix asked. He was unsure whether Afton would know, but the guy was friends with Caius, so perhaps…

"Aro heard you himself, Felix." Afton grimaced at the boy. "Word in the hall is that you tried to fight Marcus, too?"

Felix's shoulders slumped even lower. His father hadn't mentioned the woods at all, and he'd given him a truce, so he was unlikely to say anything about it now. He didn't bother correcting Afton about the rumours in the hall - his backchat to Marcus was worse than usual, yes, but he hadn't tried to fight the guy. Even Felix wasn't that stupid. All in all, Felix felt like a bit of a knob for moaning about Aro so much - he'd been quite lenient under the circumstances.

With a sad sigh, he went to the first of his wardrobes and lifted it from the floor, hissing as his assaulted skin stretched with his efforts.

Afton had much cause to mock the boy, as he often made his life difficult. There had been an ongoing rivalry of sorts between the two of them since Afton joined the coven. The fact that Afton always palled up with troublesome guards who also disliked (or at least found it difficult to tolerate) Felix didn't help. Because of the boy's great bulk, it was easy to forget his age. But looking at him now, Afton felt he looked even younger than his years. Hearing his sniffles added to the effect. Huffing lightly, Afton took pity on him and moved him aside. With a little instruction from Felix for where things should be, Afton returned the boy's furniture to its proper place.

Felix offered another tearful thank you to the guard, caught the cushion he threw his way, and put it back in the chair beside his writing desk. He tentatively tried sitting down, but immediately shot back up. He tried again, resting all his weight on his right hip which had suffered less than the left. It wasn't comfortable at all.

Afton pushed the boy's belongings on his bed aside to clear a patch, where he sat himself down and retook the belt Aro had given him. He flipped it over in his right hand. The leather braided belt was heavier than it looked, and far longer than any belt he'd ever owned. But at it had no buckle and had to be tied instead, its length made sense. He tested it out, slapping it against his open left hand.

"I can imagine the damage he's done with this."

"My mom did some damage, my dad just finished the job. Shit!" Felix cringed so hard it hurt. He wiped his eyes again—the damn things wouldn't dry up! "Forget I just said that. Please, Afton. Please, just forget it. Please."

There he was, in his wrecked bedroom in shorts and a shirt, strap lines ablaze, crying and begging Afton to be nice to him.

"Relax," said Afton. "She's your mother and you scared her to death."

He sounded so serious that it unnerved Felix a little. Afton was usually a jovial fellow, or a pissy, angry one. There was little in between. He wasn't taking the piss, which Felix appreciated, but the stern tone sounded scolding, and he felt all the more pathetic for it.

A little softer, Afton continued, "I had a mom, you know. I was 16 once, too. If I'd pulled half the stunts you have, she would have murdered me." He collected an empty goblet from the floor and stood it on the boy's nightstand. "My old man would have fetched me from the afterlife and kicked my ass back there."

Felix chuckled a little. Sometimes he was surprised he'd lived as long as he had with the shit storms he caused for his parents.

"So," said Afton, holding the leather belt in the air. "Where do you want this?"

Felix puffed the air out of his cheeks and shrugged. "Apparently the last week hasn't been bad enough and now he wants me to have the constant reminder front and centre in here." He dragged a hand down his face, collecting the last of the tears sitting on his cheeks. "I might just hang myself with the fucking thing."

"My father made me hang a cane on the back of my bedroom door," said Afton. "I can still hear the rattle it made every time I closed it."

Felix saw that he made no attempt to hide the shudder that ran down his back. It made him feel a little better about his current lot in life. Knowing others suffered the same fate as him really helped.

It wouldn't help him when his mates came over, though. For the first time in his immortal life, his parents were willing to allow him to have friends in his room. Corin could only be there if other people were, too, but it was a massive step forward. He didn't want to have to hide that damn belt whenever someone came over. He knew, at some point, he'd forget and become consumed by the humiliation he'd feel when it was spotted.

Then Afton said something that caught Felix's attention. "I left the door open when anyone came over so they couldn't see it."

Felix grinned. He had to leave his door open when his mates were there anyway - that was the deal with his parents. "That's a great idea! Let's do that."

"You sure?"

When Felix nodded, Afton bobbed his head in return. He collected the hammer and nails from the boy's desk and thumped one into the back of his heavy wooden door, then tapped the head up to make a hook. Afton went back to the bed to collect the belt, which he curled into a hoop and hung it on the 'hook'.

Standing back, Afton looked at his handiwork. "That could pass for a skipping rope."

Felix limped over to see for himself. "Is that better or worse?"

Afton wasn't sure. He hadn't been sixteen for a long time and had no clue about what the youth found acceptable or otherwise. "Just keep your door open when you have guests," he said, ruffling the boy's black shaggy hair with a wink.

Felix chuckled again. He would have usually found Afton's actions patronising in the extreme, but he had no fight left in him, so he took it as he hoped Afton meant it - affectionately.

"Afton," said Felix softly when the guard headed out the door. "Thanks for not being a dick."

Afton laughed out loud. "Just don't get used to it."