[Infinity's End] Oddities
Oct. 9th, 2013 10:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
n_wilkinsona/n: Woo. Look at me posting fic! :) I have lots more ficlets that I'm editing through, along with other updates, and character profiles, etc. All to come. I promise! For now, enjoy this bit of fluff.
Title: Oddities
Universe: Infinity's End Canon, pre-Break of Day
Characters: Kieran, Gwydion, Aislin Azura
Rating: K+/G
Description: There was a talking owl in his laboratory and Kieran wasn't entirely sure how she'd gotten in there.
Anger had always proven to be a fine catalyst, Kieran discovered. The hotter the fury, the brighter the light of discovery. He was the most inspired when he stomped around his lab, snarling under his breath, shaking with agitation.
There was something poetic about the sound of glass smashing against the floor. Or the harsh thump of a book's spine hitting the desktop. Or the crackle of crumpled plans.
His father somehow managed to bring out the very worst and best in Kieran all at once. Though he would have preferred if Marduk didn't insist on everything being his way. Part of the joy of discovery was identifying mistakes. Kieran liked to fail. Marduk didn't approve.
Grr.
You're too zealous, Marduk said. You have no patience. You do not check your work. You make assumptions. This is why you fail.
Kieran threw himself onto his stool and scrambled to grab the desk's edge when the three legs rocked from side to side. Phew. That was close. He liked to sit far off the ground, a good four feet at least, and it would have been an uncomfortable ride down.
Hmph. Something else to blame Marduk for.
Mouth set in a grim line, Kieran stared hard at his latest design schematic. Sweeping lines, erasure marks, and scribbled equations were scrawled across the off-white paper. He couldn't make heads or tails of it. Bother.
With a sweep of his arm, Kieran cleared his desk of the clutter. It fell with a clatter to the ground, a few quills rolling away and a thimble or two. Why he had thimbles, Kieran didn't know.
He dropped his chin to his palm, his elbow to his desk, and stared at the row of books neatly lined against the wall. Mathematics. Chemistry. Physics. Biology. Theory upon theory of scientific discovery by men and women much more renowned than Marduk would ever be. Ha.
He poked listlessly at a rolled up schematic, but decided he was uninterested in seeing which project lay within. Kieran pushed himself off his desk and whirled around, scanning his private laboratory. What to do, what to do?
Ah.
Sloppy, was he? Impatient, was he?
Kieran grinned and headed for his third desk, the one with his chemistry set, though that was a rather juvenile term for the collection of volatile chemicals, beakers, and test tubes. Not to mention the magically powered burner, scales, and copious other amounts of equipment.
His foot caught a toppled book and Kieran tripped, barely catching himself in time. Phew. That was close. He peered at the ground. Hmm. Might want to clean up sometime soon. He was getting to the point of wading through mess. There might be something important buried under there.
Eh, eventually.
Kieran pulled himself up into his chair, still higher than it ought to be, but much more stable since it had a back and armrests. He was all about safety.
It was a good thing he actually liked science, Kieran grumbled to himself as he snagged various vials of chemicals and perused them. He couldn’t imagine how much more scornful Marduk would be if Kieran had disdained the family business. Or wait. Maybe he could. Marduk would probably force him to be an inventor anyway. Jerk.
Pouting – no, he was angry. Not pouting or sulking! He kicked out a foot and then winced when his big toe smacked into the desk's cross-beam.
Kieran grabbed the biggest flask he had and dragged it forward. Today, he would be spontaneous. Today, he would be adventurous.
A little bit of potassium chloride to start it off perhaps. A dash of hydrochloric acid to make things interesting. And a big heaping does of--
“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”
Kieran sniffed, though his hand did pause. “And why not?”
“The results will be unstable.”
His hand lowered, but his interest didn't. “Unstable how?”
“As in, no more Kieran, no more laboratory, and maybe, no more Azura manor?”
Ah.
Kieran set down the vial and pushed it away with the tip of his finger. And then he pushed it further. But he was not to be defeated yet!
He reached for a tiny bottle with a dropper. “What about--”
“Also dangerous.”
“Or this one--”
“Nope.”
“But--”
There was a sigh. A soft flutter. “If I were you, I'd stop before I got myself hurt.”
Kieran's shoulders slumped. So much for being spontaneous and adventurous and--
Wait. This was his private laboratory. The only other person with access was his father and that was absolutely not Marduk's voice. Who was talking to him?
Kieran whirled around, searching every visible nook and cranny with his eyes. There was no one here. He hopped down from the chair, a little nervous now. Or was he just talking to himself? It had happened before, though usually those conversations weren't so pessimistic.
He padded to the maze of bookshelves that stood between him and the main door, peering around the first wall of packed shelving. No one there either.
A soft giggle echoed around him. “What are you looking for?”
Kieran's fingers twisted in the folds of his robes. He turned back to the laboratory proper, eyes searching all four of his desks, the clutter of objects on the floors and the overflowing shelves on the walls. With all this mess, anyone could be hiding anywhere. He really needed to clean up.
“Ah, pardon me,” Kieran said, voice wavering with false bravado. “But I was under the impression I was alone.”
“You were. You're not anymore.”
There was a flutter on the edge of his vision. Kieran turned toward one of the windows, a circular pane crosshatched by a wooden beam. A tiny bird perched in the sill though how it had gotten in was a curiosity.
Kieran's gaze lifted to the skylights above him. All were sealed shut, mid-afternoon sun pouring in to provide his favorite illumination.
“This is private property,” Kieran said, turning in a slow circle in the middle of his laboratory. “Whoever you are, I am afraid I'll have to ask you to leave.”
His eyes found the bird again. It hadn't moved, not even when he moved closer, and its head was turned toward him. It certainly didn't act like any bird Kieran had ever seen.
Oh. Kieran tilted his head to the side. It was an owl. In broad daylight?
“I am afraid your concept of private property is rather erroneous,” the airy voice said. “The land can belong to no one.”
Kieran blinked. “You talked,” he said, because the beak had moved and the owl was looking at him and he could have sworn that voice had come from the bird. “Didn't you?”
Brown and gold feathers ruffled. “Of course I did.” The owl now sounded indignant and hopped a fraction of an inch over. It was a tiny thing. “Why wouldn't I?”
“Owls don't talk.”
“But I did.”
“How can you talk?”
“Because,” the little one continued and this time, its tone edged into pride. “I'm special.”
Kieran dared move closer, rubbing his palms over his eyes. Perhaps this was a hallucination. He had been mixing some rather volatile chemicals. An explosion could have knocked him out and he was currently unconscious on his laboratory floor, dreaming up this whole encounter.
“I'm Gwydion,” the owl continued, the feminine address suggesting a female owner. The voice was pitched enough to indicate some truth to that assumption. “And you're Kieran.”
He sank into a stool near the window, eyes locked on the talking owl. “How did you know that?”
“I've been watching you,” she said, and a small giggle escaped the little one. “Though not in a bad way. You're a very interesting person.”
“Thanks,” Kieran said, and squinted. “I think.”
Gwydion laughed again. “You're very funny.” Her head tilted in that odd way that owls tilt their heads. “I like you.”
“Again, thanks.” Kieran took off his glasses, cleaning them on the sleeve of his robe. “So... um... are there others like you?”
“I'm one of a kind,” Gwydion chirped.
“I noticed.”
Kieran put his glasses back on, his blurry world sharpening into focus. The owl was still there, still chatting with him, and Kieran wasn't sure what he was supposed to think. Or do.
“Why were you angry?”
Kieran made a face. “My father.”
“I see.” Gwydion's head dipped in something like a sage nod. Her yellow eyes regarded him calmly, though it was the middle of the day. Shouldn't she be sleeping or something? “Parents can be difficult sometimes.”
“Don't I know it,” Kieran grumbled. He slumped over the top of his desk, wondering what he was supposed to do next. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
“You're interesting,” Gwydion chirped, though she'd said that already. “And you're very smart. I've been looking at your designs here. Fascinating.”
Kieran popped up, brimming with pride. “Thank you! One day, I might actually build some of them.”
Tiny claws scraped lightly on the windowsill. “Why not today?”
He tilted his head. The little owl had a point. Why not today? He had most of the materials. He had the time. He really ought to start moving beyond theory and into practice.
“Good point.” Kieran said and he slid down from his stool. He turned to his laboratory at large, assessing his capabilities, supplies, and assorted projects.
He tapped his chin with his fingers. Where to start?
“I'll help,” Gwydion said, and there was a flutter-flap of wings before an imperceptible weight settled on his shoulder. She really was a thing thing, barely bigger than his palm. “That is, if you don't mind.”
Kieran turned his head, her own mere inches from his. “I think I would like that.” He smiled.
She didn't quite smile, her beak wasn't really suited to that, but Kieran got the impression that she was pleased all the same.
o0o0o
Later, Kieran went to his mother. He had questions and he wanted answers but the last person he would ask was Marduk. His mother would listen. She would understand.
“Can animals talk?” he asked her, leaning against the counter and folding his arms across the top of it. He set his chin on his crossed wrists, rolling his eyes up to look at his mother.
Amusement sparkled in her eyes. “Of course not, dear,” his mama replied with a soft chuckle. “Why would you ask?”
“I read it,” he said, or lied rather. Something told him he ought to. “In a book once. And I thought, wouldn't it be fun if they did? What kind of stories would they tell?”
“Fanciful ones, I imagine,” Mama said and reached out, ruffling his hair. “Stories of myth and legend and heroes and little boys with far too much imagination.”
Kieran frowned a little, though his mother called it a pout. “Can humans turn into animals?”
His mama gave him another one of those strange looks. “Goodness, child. What kind of books have you been reading?”
He shrugged, trying to be casual. “It was in the library. Can they?” His fingers plucked over the counter, though his nose twitched. Mama was making snickerdoodles again.
Kieran drooled a little. He wondered if Gwydion liked snickerdoodles. Probably not. What did owls eat? Bugs?
“Only in the stories, dear,” Mama replied, and reached for a pan, dusting it off with a towel. “Our magic is not capable of that type of sorcery. It is elemental, not physical.”
Kieran leaned his head against his hand, trying to think. “But what if I heard an animal talk?”
“You were daydreaming, I'm sure.” His mama laughed, ladling out the cookies tiny spoonful by spoonful. “You have such an active imagination, Kieran. Though that is a good thing. Imaginations such as yours can help change the world.”
His mama's voice turned wistful and her gaze a little distant. She paused in filling the pan with cookies, as though her thoughts had gone somewhere else altogether.
“Mama?”
She shook her head, offering him the spoon with some raw dough on it. “Here you go. I know how much you like to lick the spoon.”
Kieran took it, but couldn't shake the feeling his mama was acting strange. “I do, but--”
“Now,” his mama said, turning to root around in the drawer for another spoon, “I have work to do and I'm sure you have studying to finish. You don't want your father to yell again, do you?”
Kieran slid back, clutching his spoon. “No, Mama.”
She smiled at him, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “That's what I thought. Run along and play, Kieran. We'll see you at dinner.”
“Yes, Mama.”
On impulse, he threw his arms around her, giving her a quick squeeze for a hug, and then left the kitchen. He was disappointed he hadn't gotten the answers he wanted. He suspected his mama knew something she wasn't telling him, but also, she was too afraid to tell him. There'd been a weird look in her eyes he'd never seen before.
He couldn't ask his father. Marduk would not be at all interested in fanciful tales of talking animals, even if Kieran knew that they were true. And the last thing he wanted to do was drag his father to his lab and introduce him to Gwydion. He might try to dissect her!
Kieran shuddered.
No. Best to keep this to himself entirely.
Maybe Gwydion would be more inclined to answer his questions now?
Licking the spoon, Kieran planned his attack.
o0o0o
He spent two hours catching as many bugs as he thought might tempt the palate of a talking owl. He had a jar full of them now: fireflies, a spider, two moths, a butterfly with a bit of a crushed wing, and four crickets. He hoped they'd be enough to bribe Gwydion into answering his questions.
More than that, he hoped the owl was still there when he got back to his laboratory. Otherwise, he might have imagined the whole thing after all.
He only had about a half an hour until he was due for dinner so Kieran tried to hurry and not drop his jar of insect delights.
“Hello?” Kieran called out, looking warily around the corners and shadows of his laboratory. “Are you here?”
The half-constructed project they were working on earlier still sat on his desk, a sight to behold now that it was come to life rather than just a drawing on a piece of paper.
There was a flutter near the roof. Kieran looked up as a tiny brown streak flew down, landing on his desk.
“You're back,” Gwydion chirped and then her gaze zeroed in on the jar in his hand. “What do you have there?”
Kieran grinned and held out the jar victoriously. “Temptation.”
Gwydion chuckled in that weird wheezy way that she did. “Your delivery could use a bit of work. I don't like spiders.”
“But I have moths. And crickets.”
“Hmm. They'll do.” Gwydion cocked her head. “I'm sensing a bribe.”
Kieran laughed, setting the jar beside her on the desk. The insects would keep for now. “Maybe a little. I tried asking my mama about you.”
Gwydion's feathers fluffed out. “Kieran, that's not a good idea.”
He waved her off. “I know. I was vague and everything. She told me that there's no way you could exist.”
“Of course she would.” Gwydion peered into the jar but her attention seemed elsewhere. “You are not supposed to know we exist. It is dangerous for you and us.”
Kieran frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It's a long story,” Gwydion admitted. “I'll tell you if you can promise me two things.”
Kieran leaned forward, curiosity overriding all else. “Anything.”
Gwydion pecked at his cheek, but it didn't hurt. It felt more like a kiss or something. “You can never tell anyone about me. Once I explain, you'll understand why.”
“Easy to promise. No one comes here and no one would believe me. Your secret is safe with me.” Kieran grinned, pressing his palm to his chest. “I swear.”
Gwydion looked at him for a long, long moment. “I believe you,” she declared, and a wing popped out, brushing his cheek. “Now as for the other thing.... give me that jar.”
Ah, ha. Temptation always won out.
Kieran chuckled and reached for the jar, unscrewing the lid. Sure, some of them would fly out and escape but he suspected part of the fun for Gwydion was chasing them back down.
“As milady commands,” he said. “So how about that story?”
***
a/n: More ficcage to come from all universes. I'm also going to be writing Break of Day Part II for NaNoWriMo this year so huzzah!
Feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Title: Oddities
Universe: Infinity's End Canon, pre-Break of Day
Characters: Kieran, Gwydion, Aislin Azura
Rating: K+/G
Description: There was a talking owl in his laboratory and Kieran wasn't entirely sure how she'd gotten in there.
Anger had always proven to be a fine catalyst, Kieran discovered. The hotter the fury, the brighter the light of discovery. He was the most inspired when he stomped around his lab, snarling under his breath, shaking with agitation.
There was something poetic about the sound of glass smashing against the floor. Or the harsh thump of a book's spine hitting the desktop. Or the crackle of crumpled plans.
His father somehow managed to bring out the very worst and best in Kieran all at once. Though he would have preferred if Marduk didn't insist on everything being his way. Part of the joy of discovery was identifying mistakes. Kieran liked to fail. Marduk didn't approve.
Grr.
You're too zealous, Marduk said. You have no patience. You do not check your work. You make assumptions. This is why you fail.
Kieran threw himself onto his stool and scrambled to grab the desk's edge when the three legs rocked from side to side. Phew. That was close. He liked to sit far off the ground, a good four feet at least, and it would have been an uncomfortable ride down.
Hmph. Something else to blame Marduk for.
Mouth set in a grim line, Kieran stared hard at his latest design schematic. Sweeping lines, erasure marks, and scribbled equations were scrawled across the off-white paper. He couldn't make heads or tails of it. Bother.
With a sweep of his arm, Kieran cleared his desk of the clutter. It fell with a clatter to the ground, a few quills rolling away and a thimble or two. Why he had thimbles, Kieran didn't know.
He dropped his chin to his palm, his elbow to his desk, and stared at the row of books neatly lined against the wall. Mathematics. Chemistry. Physics. Biology. Theory upon theory of scientific discovery by men and women much more renowned than Marduk would ever be. Ha.
He poked listlessly at a rolled up schematic, but decided he was uninterested in seeing which project lay within. Kieran pushed himself off his desk and whirled around, scanning his private laboratory. What to do, what to do?
Ah.
Sloppy, was he? Impatient, was he?
Kieran grinned and headed for his third desk, the one with his chemistry set, though that was a rather juvenile term for the collection of volatile chemicals, beakers, and test tubes. Not to mention the magically powered burner, scales, and copious other amounts of equipment.
His foot caught a toppled book and Kieran tripped, barely catching himself in time. Phew. That was close. He peered at the ground. Hmm. Might want to clean up sometime soon. He was getting to the point of wading through mess. There might be something important buried under there.
Eh, eventually.
Kieran pulled himself up into his chair, still higher than it ought to be, but much more stable since it had a back and armrests. He was all about safety.
It was a good thing he actually liked science, Kieran grumbled to himself as he snagged various vials of chemicals and perused them. He couldn’t imagine how much more scornful Marduk would be if Kieran had disdained the family business. Or wait. Maybe he could. Marduk would probably force him to be an inventor anyway. Jerk.
Pouting – no, he was angry. Not pouting or sulking! He kicked out a foot and then winced when his big toe smacked into the desk's cross-beam.
Kieran grabbed the biggest flask he had and dragged it forward. Today, he would be spontaneous. Today, he would be adventurous.
A little bit of potassium chloride to start it off perhaps. A dash of hydrochloric acid to make things interesting. And a big heaping does of--
“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”
Kieran sniffed, though his hand did pause. “And why not?”
“The results will be unstable.”
His hand lowered, but his interest didn't. “Unstable how?”
“As in, no more Kieran, no more laboratory, and maybe, no more Azura manor?”
Ah.
Kieran set down the vial and pushed it away with the tip of his finger. And then he pushed it further. But he was not to be defeated yet!
He reached for a tiny bottle with a dropper. “What about--”
“Also dangerous.”
“Or this one--”
“Nope.”
“But--”
There was a sigh. A soft flutter. “If I were you, I'd stop before I got myself hurt.”
Kieran's shoulders slumped. So much for being spontaneous and adventurous and--
Wait. This was his private laboratory. The only other person with access was his father and that was absolutely not Marduk's voice. Who was talking to him?
Kieran whirled around, searching every visible nook and cranny with his eyes. There was no one here. He hopped down from the chair, a little nervous now. Or was he just talking to himself? It had happened before, though usually those conversations weren't so pessimistic.
He padded to the maze of bookshelves that stood between him and the main door, peering around the first wall of packed shelving. No one there either.
A soft giggle echoed around him. “What are you looking for?”
Kieran's fingers twisted in the folds of his robes. He turned back to the laboratory proper, eyes searching all four of his desks, the clutter of objects on the floors and the overflowing shelves on the walls. With all this mess, anyone could be hiding anywhere. He really needed to clean up.
“Ah, pardon me,” Kieran said, voice wavering with false bravado. “But I was under the impression I was alone.”
“You were. You're not anymore.”
There was a flutter on the edge of his vision. Kieran turned toward one of the windows, a circular pane crosshatched by a wooden beam. A tiny bird perched in the sill though how it had gotten in was a curiosity.
Kieran's gaze lifted to the skylights above him. All were sealed shut, mid-afternoon sun pouring in to provide his favorite illumination.
“This is private property,” Kieran said, turning in a slow circle in the middle of his laboratory. “Whoever you are, I am afraid I'll have to ask you to leave.”
His eyes found the bird again. It hadn't moved, not even when he moved closer, and its head was turned toward him. It certainly didn't act like any bird Kieran had ever seen.
Oh. Kieran tilted his head to the side. It was an owl. In broad daylight?
“I am afraid your concept of private property is rather erroneous,” the airy voice said. “The land can belong to no one.”
Kieran blinked. “You talked,” he said, because the beak had moved and the owl was looking at him and he could have sworn that voice had come from the bird. “Didn't you?”
Brown and gold feathers ruffled. “Of course I did.” The owl now sounded indignant and hopped a fraction of an inch over. It was a tiny thing. “Why wouldn't I?”
“Owls don't talk.”
“But I did.”
“How can you talk?”
“Because,” the little one continued and this time, its tone edged into pride. “I'm special.”
Kieran dared move closer, rubbing his palms over his eyes. Perhaps this was a hallucination. He had been mixing some rather volatile chemicals. An explosion could have knocked him out and he was currently unconscious on his laboratory floor, dreaming up this whole encounter.
“I'm Gwydion,” the owl continued, the feminine address suggesting a female owner. The voice was pitched enough to indicate some truth to that assumption. “And you're Kieran.”
He sank into a stool near the window, eyes locked on the talking owl. “How did you know that?”
“I've been watching you,” she said, and a small giggle escaped the little one. “Though not in a bad way. You're a very interesting person.”
“Thanks,” Kieran said, and squinted. “I think.”
Gwydion laughed again. “You're very funny.” Her head tilted in that odd way that owls tilt their heads. “I like you.”
“Again, thanks.” Kieran took off his glasses, cleaning them on the sleeve of his robe. “So... um... are there others like you?”
“I'm one of a kind,” Gwydion chirped.
“I noticed.”
Kieran put his glasses back on, his blurry world sharpening into focus. The owl was still there, still chatting with him, and Kieran wasn't sure what he was supposed to think. Or do.
“Why were you angry?”
Kieran made a face. “My father.”
“I see.” Gwydion's head dipped in something like a sage nod. Her yellow eyes regarded him calmly, though it was the middle of the day. Shouldn't she be sleeping or something? “Parents can be difficult sometimes.”
“Don't I know it,” Kieran grumbled. He slumped over the top of his desk, wondering what he was supposed to do next. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
“You're interesting,” Gwydion chirped, though she'd said that already. “And you're very smart. I've been looking at your designs here. Fascinating.”
Kieran popped up, brimming with pride. “Thank you! One day, I might actually build some of them.”
Tiny claws scraped lightly on the windowsill. “Why not today?”
He tilted his head. The little owl had a point. Why not today? He had most of the materials. He had the time. He really ought to start moving beyond theory and into practice.
“Good point.” Kieran said and he slid down from his stool. He turned to his laboratory at large, assessing his capabilities, supplies, and assorted projects.
He tapped his chin with his fingers. Where to start?
“I'll help,” Gwydion said, and there was a flutter-flap of wings before an imperceptible weight settled on his shoulder. She really was a thing thing, barely bigger than his palm. “That is, if you don't mind.”
Kieran turned his head, her own mere inches from his. “I think I would like that.” He smiled.
She didn't quite smile, her beak wasn't really suited to that, but Kieran got the impression that she was pleased all the same.
Later, Kieran went to his mother. He had questions and he wanted answers but the last person he would ask was Marduk. His mother would listen. She would understand.
“Can animals talk?” he asked her, leaning against the counter and folding his arms across the top of it. He set his chin on his crossed wrists, rolling his eyes up to look at his mother.
Amusement sparkled in her eyes. “Of course not, dear,” his mama replied with a soft chuckle. “Why would you ask?”
“I read it,” he said, or lied rather. Something told him he ought to. “In a book once. And I thought, wouldn't it be fun if they did? What kind of stories would they tell?”
“Fanciful ones, I imagine,” Mama said and reached out, ruffling his hair. “Stories of myth and legend and heroes and little boys with far too much imagination.”
Kieran frowned a little, though his mother called it a pout. “Can humans turn into animals?”
His mama gave him another one of those strange looks. “Goodness, child. What kind of books have you been reading?”
He shrugged, trying to be casual. “It was in the library. Can they?” His fingers plucked over the counter, though his nose twitched. Mama was making snickerdoodles again.
Kieran drooled a little. He wondered if Gwydion liked snickerdoodles. Probably not. What did owls eat? Bugs?
“Only in the stories, dear,” Mama replied, and reached for a pan, dusting it off with a towel. “Our magic is not capable of that type of sorcery. It is elemental, not physical.”
Kieran leaned his head against his hand, trying to think. “But what if I heard an animal talk?”
“You were daydreaming, I'm sure.” His mama laughed, ladling out the cookies tiny spoonful by spoonful. “You have such an active imagination, Kieran. Though that is a good thing. Imaginations such as yours can help change the world.”
His mama's voice turned wistful and her gaze a little distant. She paused in filling the pan with cookies, as though her thoughts had gone somewhere else altogether.
“Mama?”
She shook her head, offering him the spoon with some raw dough on it. “Here you go. I know how much you like to lick the spoon.”
Kieran took it, but couldn't shake the feeling his mama was acting strange. “I do, but--”
“Now,” his mama said, turning to root around in the drawer for another spoon, “I have work to do and I'm sure you have studying to finish. You don't want your father to yell again, do you?”
Kieran slid back, clutching his spoon. “No, Mama.”
She smiled at him, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “That's what I thought. Run along and play, Kieran. We'll see you at dinner.”
“Yes, Mama.”
On impulse, he threw his arms around her, giving her a quick squeeze for a hug, and then left the kitchen. He was disappointed he hadn't gotten the answers he wanted. He suspected his mama knew something she wasn't telling him, but also, she was too afraid to tell him. There'd been a weird look in her eyes he'd never seen before.
He couldn't ask his father. Marduk would not be at all interested in fanciful tales of talking animals, even if Kieran knew that they were true. And the last thing he wanted to do was drag his father to his lab and introduce him to Gwydion. He might try to dissect her!
Kieran shuddered.
No. Best to keep this to himself entirely.
Maybe Gwydion would be more inclined to answer his questions now?
Licking the spoon, Kieran planned his attack.
He spent two hours catching as many bugs as he thought might tempt the palate of a talking owl. He had a jar full of them now: fireflies, a spider, two moths, a butterfly with a bit of a crushed wing, and four crickets. He hoped they'd be enough to bribe Gwydion into answering his questions.
More than that, he hoped the owl was still there when he got back to his laboratory. Otherwise, he might have imagined the whole thing after all.
He only had about a half an hour until he was due for dinner so Kieran tried to hurry and not drop his jar of insect delights.
“Hello?” Kieran called out, looking warily around the corners and shadows of his laboratory. “Are you here?”
The half-constructed project they were working on earlier still sat on his desk, a sight to behold now that it was come to life rather than just a drawing on a piece of paper.
There was a flutter near the roof. Kieran looked up as a tiny brown streak flew down, landing on his desk.
“You're back,” Gwydion chirped and then her gaze zeroed in on the jar in his hand. “What do you have there?”
Kieran grinned and held out the jar victoriously. “Temptation.”
Gwydion chuckled in that weird wheezy way that she did. “Your delivery could use a bit of work. I don't like spiders.”
“But I have moths. And crickets.”
“Hmm. They'll do.” Gwydion cocked her head. “I'm sensing a bribe.”
Kieran laughed, setting the jar beside her on the desk. The insects would keep for now. “Maybe a little. I tried asking my mama about you.”
Gwydion's feathers fluffed out. “Kieran, that's not a good idea.”
He waved her off. “I know. I was vague and everything. She told me that there's no way you could exist.”
“Of course she would.” Gwydion peered into the jar but her attention seemed elsewhere. “You are not supposed to know we exist. It is dangerous for you and us.”
Kieran frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It's a long story,” Gwydion admitted. “I'll tell you if you can promise me two things.”
Kieran leaned forward, curiosity overriding all else. “Anything.”
Gwydion pecked at his cheek, but it didn't hurt. It felt more like a kiss or something. “You can never tell anyone about me. Once I explain, you'll understand why.”
“Easy to promise. No one comes here and no one would believe me. Your secret is safe with me.” Kieran grinned, pressing his palm to his chest. “I swear.”
Gwydion looked at him for a long, long moment. “I believe you,” she declared, and a wing popped out, brushing his cheek. “Now as for the other thing.... give me that jar.”
Ah, ha. Temptation always won out.
Kieran chuckled and reached for the jar, unscrewing the lid. Sure, some of them would fly out and escape but he suspected part of the fun for Gwydion was chasing them back down.
“As milady commands,” he said. “So how about that story?”
a/n: More ficcage to come from all universes. I'm also going to be writing Break of Day Part II for NaNoWriMo this year so huzzah!
Feedback is welcome and appreciated!
