Author's Note: Happy New Year! Here's to getting more of this story out in 2025 C:
This chapter takes place between the episodes The Mirror and The Silver Falcon, the night following Chapter 13.
Quick disclaimer, I like Lexington quite a bit and I think he deserves more attention in the fandom. So this one is for all the Lexington fans out there ^^
"A long way out in the deep blue see-ah" Hudson read aloud to Bronx, who was settled by his feet, his usual perch. "Er, sea. That's deep blue sea. Forgot aboot the silent a..."
Bronx's whined drew his attention away from the story and Hudson was met with quite the display. Before him laid Bronx, flashing his puppy dog eyes at him, wiggling on his back, his paws folded over in the most obvious pleading position possible. Hudson lowered the book a bit more and took in the sight with an amused huff.
"Aye, aye, I know what yer expectin', just lemme finish the first few pages, alright?" Bronx continued staring up at him, eyes getting wider and tearier by the second, before Hudson's resolve broke away with a deep sigh. A reluctant smile tugging at his cheeks as he set the book atop his chair's arm rest and dropped down to one knee.
"Needy beast" he grumbled with a chuckle as he reached out and rubbed Bronx's exposed belly with loving vigor. Bronx's little face lit up and immediately he started kicking his leg, panting excitedly all the way.
Hudson didn't mind the distraction too much, he had all night to finish his assignment. After Robbins requested his help in writing his tale, a novel he called it, they had spent the entire night discussing what it could or should be. It was quite an odd experience, he'd never had such an intellectual conversation with a human before, not unless it was about war or certain political affairs he needed to be privy to as Clan Leader.
There was always some grand reason to engage in those talks. The welfare of The Clan, the prosperity of the alliance with the humans, the changing political landscape, on the rare occasion he advised Prince Malcolm or his Captain of the Guard. But this, like so many exchanges with Robbins, was personal & pure. He didn't feel the nagging suspicion that he was just a means to an end for him, that his presence was being tolerated out of necessity for something far greater. There was no prize that Hudson was a mere stepping stone for Robbins to reach.
For whatever mad reason the human had, he entreated Hudson simply for his opinion, as if his opinion concerning literature had any value whatsoever. He was still struggling with the most base aspect of reading, he hadn't yet dared attempt writing a word, his thoughts on the matter were immaterial in every aspect of the word. Yet Robbins didn't see it that way. He truly wished to know the intimate details of his thoughts on every facet of his tale—novel. It was unprecedented.
He had to keep reminding himself that Robbins didn't know his true nature, which was a bit befuddling now that he thought about it. Robbins couldn't see that he was a completely different race than him, therefore he had no reason to treat him any differently than any of his fellow humans. To Robbins, his meager opinions were worthwhile, at least he certainly made it seem that way at the time. To the point that if Robbins was, in fact, putting on a show, he was the most talented human actor Hudson had ever seen. And that included the likes of the ever duplicitous Xanatos.
The way he wrung his hands and shrunk in on himself when he first beseeched Hudson's assistance. How genuinely taken aback he appeared when Hudson gave him an innocuous compliment about his voice. How his face lit up when he mentioned focusing on "The Sword" of the story... he hadn't been able to get that shocked smile out of his mind, truth be told. He called him his "muse", a term that still confused Hudson, but with how Robbins used it, it seemed like a significant, good position. Helpful and cherished council, from what he could glean, but he could be wrong, it was a peculiar term.
As they walked together on the path Robbins had laid out for them; ideas, opinions, concepts, and principles meeting and dancing in harmony to the music of Robbins' words and the sounding brass of Hudson's words, a thought crept up in his mind. One he knew would be best to keep private. This... this is what it felt like. To truly be seen as equal to another so different from you.
It was... overwhelming in some aspects. Too good to be true. But Hudson couldn't stop the soft warmth blossoming in his chest when he imagined a chance to engage with his friend on such a stage once more.
However wonderful a gift that moment was, it still raised an obvious problem. Well, not problem per say, consideration was more appropriate, he supposed. They had become so entangled in their talk that the normal routine was inadvertently forsaken, thus he couldn't progress with his reading lessons last night. A regrettable oversight on his part, Hudson had even failed to enquire about Robbins' food preferences like he had intended to.
Elisa's anniversary surprise for the Clan got him thinking it might be good to bring Robbins food, as thanks for going through the trouble of teaching him to read. He made a mental note to ask before getting caught up in any discussion next time. And in a way that Robbins wouldn't perceive his intentions with the information. Elisa presenting the gift as a complete surprise made it that much more special, he realized, so maintaining that aspect was essential. But back to the matter at hand.
As always Robbins had a simple and elegant solution. Something he referred to as "homework", a term Hudson easily understood in contrast to "muse". Robbins, the thoughtful man that he was, had picked up some books that he judged Hudson was ready to read through on his own. Despite the gargoyle's protests, Robbins managed to cut through the uncertainty and anxiety with a simple assignment.
If Hudson was unable to understand a particular passage in the books, he would make note of it and continue through the books. And if a later passage helped illuminate the meaning of a confusing passage, he could use "context clues" to piece it together. And if even after all of that he was unable to comprehend, he would bring the books back to Robbins the next time they convened and Robbins would help him through it.
Hudson was determined that he wouldn't burden Robbins further with his poor performance, this "homework" would be fully completed so that he and Robbins could continue his lessons in earnest. And just maybe, a small piece of him added, he would ask about Robbins' novel and he'd be willing to engage in the stimulating discussion once more.
It had only been a day and his mind was filled to the brim with new ideas, refined alterations to old ideas, new concepts and queries to offer for Robbins' esteemed consideration. He knew he shouldn't allow his hopes to rise so high and that his focus should be solely on his lessons instead of distracting Robbins from working. But that little piece of him just couldn't let go of the rewarding experience he'd just had, one he'd treasure for the rest of his nights. Robbins was just so inspiring, he couldn't help but crave what he freely gave.
The old gargoyle shook his head with eyes closed, gave one last pet to Bronx's well rubbed belly, and returned to his beat up recliner. The lovely beast immediately rolled off his back and trotted in a short lap in front of Hudson before settling down beside the refocused gargoyle. The book returned to his clawed hands and he turned back to the first page.
Out of the small collection of books Robbins had lent him, (Robbins claimed they were a gift, but Hudson was just going to hide them somewhere in Robbins' house the next time he visited), this one jumped out at him the most. The front cover was quite inviting with its many colors and shimmering material within the paint. It might sound juvenile but he couldn't stop his eyes from flittering back to it while shuffling through the whole stack.
Even though the other books looked interesting—one had an interesting bat character on the cover, another had a mouse and what looked like a cookie the size of its head—this one entitled The Rainbow Fish was the most enticing option. Hudson had correctly assumed they were children's books, much to his chagrin, but he gritted his teeth and bore it. Because they were from Robbins, meant to help him improve without needing to lean so heavily on the human. And any opportunity to alleviate the burden he lumped Robbins with was golden and had to be seized.
It wasn't such a blow to his blasted pride when he saw them in that way. But he did prefer some of them to look a tad more mature to recover an ounce of his dignity. Regardless, he cleared his throat and picked up where he left off.
"There lived a fish. Not just an ordin... ar-ee?" he stroked his beard as he reread the word. "Ordin-ar-ee—Ordinary. An ordinary fish, but the most be-ought-eye-full?" he shook his head at the pronunciation. "No no, beautiful, that's what it is—the most beautiful fish in the een-tire oak-en" Hudson scrunched his nose up at that. He couldn't recall hearing that word before.
"What the devil's an 'oak-en'?" he asked aloud, scratching his head as he looked over to Bronx, who was just as clueless as him.
"I believe the word you're lookin' for is ocean" Hudson jumped in his seat at the sudden voice answering back. "the C makes an S sound" Lexington smiled at him, several much thicker and less colorful books in his little arms. Bronx perked up immediately and lumbered over to the boy.
Hudson cleared his throat and spoke up. "Lad! I thought you'd left with the others"
Lexington rolled his head back dramatically as he sat at their new table. "Aaaw, it's a slow night. Figured I could come back and catch up on my own reading assignment" he plucked a book from the stack and flitted through the pages. "Coldstone's not gonna fix themselves, ya know?"
Hudson went ridged at the name. "Aye, 'tis true" he answered back, averting his gaze back to his book.
Coldstone, of course. That was still a very real and present issue for the Clan. With Demona's recent... departure thanks to Puck... Gargoyles, which are already on the brink of total extinction, were in even shorter supply. And that was a fact that was heavy enough to grind them to powder if they focused on it too long, so they were all quick to get back to the "normal" mundane things they had more control over. Keep themselves nice and busy so thoughts would be less likely to linger on such morose matters.
All but Lexington, who had taken it upon himself to remedy the situation as best he could, even before Demona's last... well, their recent encounter with the impish Fae that Hudson still held a grudge against for so many reasons. But regardless, Lexington had committed to fixing the last remaining members of the Clan from their unspeakable predicament. To help twist and bend them back to a semblance of who they were long ago. And he would forever have Hudson's respect and gratitude for trying his best in such a noble endeavor.
It was still black magic and modern sorcery though, so Hudson wasn't too keen on being around them, nor Lexington when he was working on the grotesque abomination. But he didn't pull out the amalgamation of metal, brimstone, and flesh from the backroom, so Hudson wasn't made to be uncomfortable on this night. That was mindful of the lad.
"Don't let me stop ya, though" Lexington spoke up again, after petting Bronx and giving his face an affectionate tussle. "From doin' your thing" he clarified, motioning to Hudson's book.
"Oh, o'course" he cleared his throat once again and stuck his finger under the last section he read. "In the een-tire ocean... een-tire... entire? Entire—the entire ocean" he nodded satisfied and turned the page carefully. He didn't want to ruin Robbins' book after all.
In stark contrast, rigorous page turning drew his attention back towards Lexington, who now had several books open at the same time, working both of his hands independently. As he silently mouthed the words of one passage, tracing his finger on lines of text, before jumping to another book to mouth and trace another line, his other hand was busy scribbling on an empty page of a thinner book. He called it a "notepad", so he was probably taking notes on what he was reading.
He was so absorbed in what he was doing, but he had a puzzled expression on his face, which gave Hudson pause. While Lexington was minding his business and keeping to himself, reading books of an impossible degree of complexity that required intense focus to understand, Hudson was reading a child's book aloud like an infant, tripping over words that Lexington could run through in his sleep. And the task set before him was of such greater importance than simply knowing how to read... it was quite a large helping of shame that overshadowed Hudson in that moment.
"Am I, uh..." he stammered, before biting back his words for a moment. "I'm not disturbin' ye, am I lad?"
"Huh?" Lexington said, absentmindedly, before raising his head in recognition. "Oh! No no, go ahead. I don't mind, I'm good at multitasking" he waved off with a smile, writing utensil nestled between his fingers.
Hudson looked over at him, furrowing his brows at the many books he was currently shuffling through. "Are ye sure?" he asked again.
"It's fine, Hudson. I work better with background noise anyway. You or the TV, doesn't matter to me" Lexington assured, a rueful smile on his face, as he returned to scanning his books and jotting down notes periodically.
Hudson settled back in his recliner, slowly blinking. "Alright then" he shrugged before focusing back on his task. Robbins told him he should read aloud to help with understanding each word, but with Lexington sitting not too far away, he couldn't help but start again quieter.
As Hudson fumbled through the children's book, he felt his nerves calming. Lexington staying focused on his work and not making a big deal out of his performance certainly helped. In his humble estimation, he was doing slightly better than he originally thought he'd do on his own. But compared to the average person, he felt he was woefully mediocre, and that's the kindest he could phrase it. There were whole sections of the book that took him several tries to get right, he still wasn't confident in some of the pronunciations he employed, and worse still, his claws ripped a corner off a page!
He nearly leapt out of his skin at the quick tearing sound it shocked him so badly. He whipped his head around to see if Lexington heard it too and realized his grievous mistake, but thank heavens the boy was still completely preoccupied with his studies. But it was not a pleasant experience, he felt quite daft the entire time, and what's worse, he didn't even understand the purpose of the story. At least with Robbins' story, there was a great deal of substance to the tale he spun. With the fish book, he was at a loss.
Why did The Rainbow Fish have to relinquish his scales to be accepted by the other fish? Were they not all the same, did they not occupy the same space in the sea, did they not all have something to contribute to the group? Why was The Rainbow Fish singled out and expected to give up literal pieces of himself to those around him, simply because they asked him to? They didn't even offer him anything in trade, they just wanted to take what he had with no regard for him. The audacity of those other fish.
Why, if Hudson had been a rainbow fish instead of a gargoyle, he'd have never given any greedy, selfish vagrants his scales. And that so called wise octopus, what kind of advice was that? "Mutilate yourself and you'll know happiness", is possibly the worst bit of guidance he'd ever heard in his life. What was anyone supposed to get out of that story?
Hudson shook his head as he closed the book with more strength than he intended and accidentally scratched the cover. He supposed Robbins had his reasons for giving him such a book as "homework" but it was simply not as stimulating a read as Robbins' writings. Maybe he could ask his friend about the story, see if he's missing something. Then again, Robbins probably wouldn't be interested in discussing the actual story of these rudimentary books. They were just for Hudson to practice.
Before he could set The Rainbow Fish aside and dive into another book, a voice full of youthful energy called out to him.
"Hey, that was pretty good, Hudson! You're doing much better than Broadway! Pretty soon you'll be readin' this stuff right along with me!" Lexington joked, holding up his several inches thick book.
"Ack, come off it" Hudson waved off as he rolled his suddenly stiff shoulders. "There ain't no way I'm gonna be readin' about man's black magic and sorcery. Even if I could" he growled, the mental image of everything Xanatos and Demona did to create the monstrosity that was Coldstone... sickening was the only word for it.
Lexington's face fell flat at Hudson's comment. "For the 59th time, it's not black magic or sorcery, it's science" he set the book back down and looked over his notes as he continued. "And it's nothin' too new, we had science back in Scotland. How do ya think firing an arrow works?"
"Ya don't need screens and electricity and computer chips to do it, I know that" Hudson shot back, crossing his arms and turning to the TV.
"Okay, but it's still science!" Lexington flicked his wrist as he propped his other hand against his cheek. "Just because electricity is involved, doesn't mean it's somehow magic. Let alone the black kind"
"We are talkin' about the petrified remains of our gargoyle brethren cobbled together with metal and machinery, revived as a weapon with 3 different souls inside" Hudson listed. "If that ain't black magic or wicked sorcery, boyo I don't know what is"
Lexington paused, his eyes wide for a beat before he darted his gaze up at Hudson. "... Fine, fair point" he said quickly, before sitting up fully. "But computers, cables, and electricity by themselves are not magic. Can we at least agree on that?" he motioned between them.
Hudson couldn't help but turn his nose up at the notion. "Hmph, I'm still not convinced"
"Figures" Lexington said, rolling his eyes and returning to his notes. "All I meant though, was you're comin' along really nicely with your reading skills" he said, almost matter of fact like. As if it was a clear and obvious conclusion one could come to.
"Feh! Not comin' along nicely enough, if ye ask me" Hudson retorted, picking up the stack of books Robbins assigned him. "I still have so far to go..." he stared at the books for a moment, contemplating just how long this would take.
"Hey, c'mon. You've made great strides in a very short amount of time" the lad answered back. "It's only been, what, a month? And you're already reading at a 2nd Grade level. That would normally take a human 7-8 years to accomplish" he informed, giving him eye contact. "That's very impressive when you think about it, Hudson. And you're only gonna get better with each passing day!" he grinned widely, causing Hudson's task to not feel quite as daunting as it was starting to.
"So, be proud of the progress you've already made. Cuz honestly, I'm proud of ya" Lexington admitted, placing a hand on his chest. "We all are" he added with a shrug, a fondness in his gaze. Hudson could do nothing to combat the undeserved praise, but sigh and express his gratitude.
"Thank ye, lad. I hadn't realized I was so ahead of other people startin' out" his hand reached up and began rubbing the back of his neck. "But I cannot take all the credit. Robbins has been... well, he's a phenomenal teacher. All my progress is his doing, I just follow his instructions" he admitted, unaware of the small smirk forming on his face.
"Yeah, I bet he is. You said he was a writer, right?"
Hudson nodded reflexively. "Aye. And a brilliant one, at that" his smirk grew at the memory of being read to. How beautiful Robbins' voice was, he was a gifted storyteller in every facet, it seemed.
Lexington stopped and looked back up, a quizzical look on his face. "You've read his work?"
"N-Not quite—he, um..." Hudson suddenly felt very flush. How should he even word what happened? Casually? With as few words as possible? "He read his writings to me once. And it was... beyond wonderful" he couldn't help but sigh in content at that glorious memory.
If it was a physical thing, it'd no doubt look like that Rainbow Fish's scales. All shiny and shimmering, a jewel of great and rare beauty. One he'd never give to anybody, no matter how badly they asked for it or how he'd be shunned for denying it to them. It was special and unique to him and Robbins, it belonged to them and them alone. And it made the memory that much more splendid as far as Hudson was concerned.
"Doooo...?" Lexington droned curiously, drawing Hudson's attention back. "Yooou remember any of it?" he finally managed, eyes wide and hands clasped together. He was ready for a break it seemed. Fine by Hudson, any opportunity to talk about the amazing experience he'd just had was going to be seized.
"I couldn't forget it even if I tried" he chuckled as he got up from the recliner and approached the table. "His writings—his novel—concerns Merlin, of all the coincidences. And King Arthur, of course, but primarily the wizard. I believe he really admires him" Hudson continued to unload the backlog of thoughts and feelings and opinions he was too impatient to hold back for another night. If Lexington didn't want to hear it, oh well, because as soon as the floodgates had opened, there was no closing them until the water had all rushed out.
Hudson retold the story as best he could, not that he couldn't remember certain parts, but because he got distracted explaining how Robbins would read a particular portion of the story. Or what he planned to do with a particular character in the following chapters that had yet to be written or why certain things were important for subtext. He actually didn't know what subtext meant before Robbins explained it to him, so he covered that just to be safe. So many different things about the exceptional story and how brilliant the blind writer was for developing it, he just let it all flow out.
It wasn't until he finished relaying a particularly humorous moment where Robbins briefly entertained the idea that Merlin and the Lady of the Lake could have an embarrassing romance where they both acted like adolescents around each other, causing Arthur who knows nothing of the tryst, confused discomfort. Anyway, he was calming down after laughing about such a dynamic which made him realize he was the only one laughing.
So he caught his breath and noticed the way Lexington was looking at him. His chin in his palm, elbow propped on the table, a slightly smug smile on his face, a cheeky gleam in his half lidded eyes. He had the look of someone who was watching something play out knowing the outcome in advance. Why he had such a look on his face when Hudson was speaking about Robbins' fantastic story was not a question he had the answer to. But he didn't particularly like the way Lexington's face made him feel in the pit of his stomach.
"What?" he challenged, squinting a glare at him. Was he making fun of Robbins' story or something? Because if he was—
Lexington spoke loudly, a laugh hanging on his words, as he waved his hands in front of him. "Nothin', nothin'! I'm just..." he folded his arms on the table and leaned forward, staring up at Hudson with a warm smile. "It's really good to see you happy again"
Hudson felt as though he'd been hit with a war hammer, his eyes shot open in unison with his jaw. That... was not what he was expecting to hear from the lad. He sat there, desperately attempting to recover from the dazed state the powerful observation had forced him into. And it was simply an observation from Lexington's perspective, he just didn't realize the transparency of it all. It wasn't a secret that Hudson enjoyed Robbins' company, nor that he felt a certain measure of ease and comfort in his presence. And he made it clear how he viewed Robbins as a person; smart, kind, wise, insightful, calm. Among many other great attributes.
But he never intended to come across as so... elated? It wasn't what he wanted to display to others, he just felt what he felt with Robbins and he went about his life as normal. Nobody needed to take note of anything different because in a certain way, nothing really had changed as far as day to day life. How the Clan viewed him hadn't really changed, or so he thought. Apparently he was wrong. That or he greatly underestimated Lexington's powers of observation concerning him.
Either way, the lad was right. And there was no way to deny or downplay that.
"Aye... suppose I am more happy as of late" he finally admitted, a nervous chuckle in his tone as he rubbed the back of his neck. Lexington simply nodded in understanding and let out a giggle.
"Your friend Robbins sounds amazing" he said, before shifting his head skyward. "I wonder what else he knows about mythology and history. Maybe philosophy and psychology too, based on what you were saying. He seems very well read" Lexington reasoned, and my, he was quick. But before Hudson could confirm the boy's suspicions, he plowed ahead.
"I'd be interested in askin' him all about history first, though" Oh. "Especially the parts we were asleep for" Oh no.
"Yes well, he's not like other humans so..." Hudson hid his panic as well as he could beneath the table, his knee bouncing erratically. "I dunnot know when I could introduce the Clan to him" Blast it, he was floundering. "So I-I wouldn't... be too... hasty about... askin' him an-anytime soon..." Now he was just rambling.
Lexington's face fell the longer he spoke, causing Hudson's chest to ache as if an old wound were festering. Why did he have to look so disappointed, why did he have to mention meeting him, why was everyone so keen on including themselves in this? His knee finally did bump the table, sending a sharp pain through his leg, forcing more words out.
"But I will! Someday!" he stammered loudly, none of the words were coming out in order. "Introduce him! To you! I mean, everyone! To you and everyone!" his face was heating up more than a torch, by the dragon, he just needed to close the door on this. "It'll happen eventually, so don't worry about when!" he finally shouted, which was nowhere near his intention, and slumped forward exhausted.
Lexington didn't seem too bothered by the display and offered an understanding smirk before going back to his books. "Well whenever he's ready, I'm game. It'd be nice talking to somebody who thinks we're just like them, ya know?" he quickly pointed his hand at Hudson. "I mean, Elisa's great, no question, but..." he pursed his lips and looked off to the side. "I dunno, it'd just be cool to talk to someone who doesn't have any gargoyle awareness, I guess" he explained, turning his face back to his work.
Hudson sat back up, propping his chin up in his hand. "Oh aye, 'tis a breath of fresh air" he admitted, his smile returned in full force. A breath of fresh air he wasn't ready to dilute just yet.
After all, he isn't sure the Clan understood how careful they needed to be when dealing with Robbins. Lexington asking questions about things that every person who didn't spend the last 10 centuries as petrified statues would know the answers to, would easily rip the illusion away. "Blow his cover", as all the James Bond movies put it.
"Anyways, just let me know, I'd be happy to drop whatever's goin' on and swing by with ya" he shrugged before peering up at Hudson. "And I'll try not to be too 'youthful' or whatever" he rolled his eyes, his cheeky look firmly in place, before he went back to his notes.
"I'll... keep that in mind, lad" Hudson's nerves relaxed considerably hearing how nonchalant he was. "Your interest and patience is appreciated" he added as he rose from the table and returned to his waiting stack of books, guarded by the ever watchful eye of Bronx. Who was currently snoozing the night away.
Hudson walked carefully around him, wishing for him to get his fill of relaxation. Only one of them had homework to finish, after all. As he shuffled through the books and picked out the one with the mouse and the cookies, he seriously reflected on Lexington as the first potential guest of Robbins. A thought he wasn't at all ready to consider before tonight, but after his relaxed approach to the idea, the distinct lack of pressure, and his willingness to hear all that Hudson just unloaded on him about Robbins. He seemed like the best candidate at the moment.
Goliath and Elisa were far too eager and invested, plus the lad was a giant, he didn't want Robbins to feel intimidated by his size. Although, being blind, however much of a factor that is for him is up for debate. But he is more likely to be insufferable about human gargoyle relations on the sly, so it'd be better to hold off until he calms down about that. Brooklyn and Broadway are liable to just forget the entire premise of Robbins being his friend, and end up letting something slip that will blow his cover completely. They were not the shrewd and careful sort, not socially anyway.
But Lexington wasn't like them. He knew the value in reaching out and connecting with more humans, as he put it, there are kindred spirits out there for us, but we've got to seek them out and give them a chance, or we'll always be alone. And he was more right about that than anything else he'd ever said. But critically, his desires to reach out to any and all humans that even remotely piqued his interest was tempered by his experience with The Pack. So he had the desire to connect with kindred spirits, but was careful enough not to overextend, perfect for dealing with Robbins.
He was also quite intelligent, well read, curious, creative; all qualities that Robbins would find endearing and welcomed. The subjects he listed as Robbins' expertise were spot on, but history was the only troubling aspect, the one subject he is most curious and eager to learn about. With some coaching though, he may be able to rein that in. He could be a sparkling conversationalist, same as Robbins, though maybe not as charming. Lexington's interests in technology would mean he and Robbins wouldn't have a gap in that area.
His curiosity has led him to voraciously absorb the culture of this new world, a culture that Robbins is intimately familiar with, thus there would be no problems talking about current events. Even their speech would be similar enough to mask Lexington's, and by extension Hudson's, true nature from Robbins. Unlike Broadway, Lexington wasn't overly physical in his mannerisms or affection, he wasn't one to broach personal space and again, with some coaching, he'd be careful to avoid handshakes or any other forms of contact.
All things considered, the lad may be the best choice to introduce Robbins to the rest of the Clan. He would be the perfect example of how the others should act around him, and out of all of them, he's the one Robbins would be most impressed with. At least he wouldn't immediately reject the boy—
Hudson stopped mid-sentence and rattled his head for a moment. Where on earth did that thought come from? Robbins wouldn't reject Lexington... he wouldn't reject any... anybody... Hudson refocused on his reading, pushing such thoughts deep in the recesses of his mind.
There was no point in weighing the pros and cons, anyway. He wouldn't introduce anyone to Robbins, not yet. The time just wasn't right. It was a delicate dance he had finally managed to get a firm hold on. Adding any more elements to the mix could disrupt the entire balance and Robbins would no longer be... He couldn't afford to upset the balance. Their friendship was still fragile, still at risk of being so easily broken. He likened it to a hatchling egg, as silly as it may sound to anyone he'd tell. But it was true.
Hatchling eggs after laying were so fragile and required the utmost care and gentleness. That's why they had a Rookery in the first place. To shield them even from elements of the surface, for too cold or dry a night and the hatchling inside would suffer adverse effects. No, the eggs had to be in a darkened damp place, even too much of a draft would disrupt the gestation process. Only until the eggs were several years old could they be brought out of the Rookery, and even then, they could not experience direct sunlight lest catastrophic damage was intended.
Had his friendship with Robbins been an egg, it'd be several years too soon to take it out of the safety of its rookery, let alone expose it to the direct sunlight that was the rambunctious and reckless Trio. Or the intense and overly invested Goliath. No, Hudson couldn't allow them to damage the precious thing he had been lucky enough to be given, whether they intended to do no harm or not. The result would be the same, a bad egg. And he didn't go through all that he did to get here with a human as special as Robbins to foolishly expose it to harmful conditions without cause.
No, the old gargoyle would know when it was time to join these two halves of his life together. And until that time, he wouldn't worry about it. He had enough to worry about with this "homework". However far he may have come, there was still so much more to go.
Author's Note: The book Hudson's reading, The Rainbow Fish, is a somewhat infamous 90s children's book. And there may or may not be some symbolism going on with that book, who can say? The other books may or may not have similar symbol-tisms going on with as well, but we're just gonna have to wait and see. w
Lexington's books were all to do with the basics of coding, programming and computer hardware maintenance that he will use as a base for how to go about fixing Coldstone's systems. He's going to quickly graduate through the books and move to operating systems, computer viruses, and data recovery, in time for the episode High Noon. But he's just starting here, he's gotta get the basics down.
The line that Hudson remembers from Lexington about kindred spirits is from the episode Thrill of the Hunt, where Lexington wishes to meet The Pack. Hudson definitely would remember that as it's one of the rare moments that Lexington and Goliath got into a heated disagreement. But also the accuracy of that statement after meeting Robbins wouldn't go unnoticed by him either.
This is a small point, but the concept of muses did not reach Scotland until 1638 at the latest, far after Hudson had already been trapped in stone sleep. So it's not really a concept he'd know anything about and it's not too obvious what it means, especially to someone who has zero experience with storytelling, literature, the creative process. I thought it had spread across Europe sooner than that, but nope! Took quite a while.
The stuff about Gargoyle eggs was carefully researched to see if I had enough room to add in some extra stuff, such as how sunlight and the outside elements could negatively effect the hatchling inside. I wondered with all the information available why the eggs would be hidden underground as opposed to bird eggs being housed way out of reach of non-airborne animals. So I figured it would have to do with the eggs themselves being too fragile to be exposed to the elements, but especially the Sun. Considering these are Gargoyle eggs.
I know Sevarius theorized that Gargoyles absorb solar radiation when in stone sleep and that's how they thrive at night, but I theorize that the egg itself functions in a similar manner 24 hours for the hatchling. Similar to how mammalian babies have everything they need in the womb and the mother doesn't have to do anything in particular in terms of her physical location to better suit the child.
Because remember, the Wyvern Clan Eggs remained in the Rookery during the day as well as the night. There was no need to bring them out to absorb sunlight and Greg Weisman suggested that they absorb thermal energy the entire time they are in the egg, which supports my theory. He also said the hatching of the Avalon Clan was set back due to being removed from the Rookery and transported across Scotland by Princess Katharine and Tom.
Once the Gargoyle hatches and the egg has been discarded, the Hatchling is developed enough to experience stone sleep outside like all the other full grown Gargoyles, because they hatch as "slightly more independent and stronger than human newborns". Meaning they can support their own heads and they start crawling much quicker than human babies. It's a theory that holds quite a bit of water, so I'm gonna roll with it.