Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Mister wolf and the little warrior 3.3

And so Elowen explained this strategy game to Callan. It was fairly simple, yet entertaining. They'd played three full games before the sun went down and Callan brought out a Fee light to illuminate their board, as Elowen couldn't see properly in the dimness, as he could.

This was something he'd always dreamed of when thinking of having children. Long hours playing with them and listening to their day. He'd delighted in Elowen's tenacity and strategy, finding her scrunched face of concentration and muttered grumblings endlessly amusing. He would begrudgingly admit that this was something she'd inherited from him, the dogged competitiveness.

"You're good, Mister Wolf! I'm sure next time you could win!" Elowen said, after their fourth game. Her little smile was half indulgent and half smug. She patted his arm placatingly. "It was only your first time! I'm sure you'll get used to it in no time!"

Callan almost snorted. She'd been sputtering and fussing only five minutes ago, pale brows twisted into a comically perfect V, cheeks red with frustration. Now, she was the paragon of good sportsmanship. Oh, this little girl.

He'd pulled back just enough to let her win, but played earnestly because she was a smart child who enjoyed a challenge. It was a treat to see her eyes narrowed in concentration as she thought of her next move. Indeed, she would love chess.

"Truly, it was a most entertaining game," Callan said honestly. "Thank you for teaching me."

It was the whole truth. It had been quite a while since he'd sat on the grass and left behind the piles and piles of work and stress plaguing his day-to-day. Often, he forgot what it was like to simply sit back and enjoy. In the brief period Elowen had been in his life, she'd already taught him more than she could imagine.

"I had fun too! Maybe next time we can play snip snap snorum! I should get a deck of cards. We usually use Harty's. He teaches me loads of card games. Last week he taught me how to play piquet and during the summer, he taught me how to play Lanternloo! That's even more fun, but we'd need one more player," she said pensively, stroking the luminescent petals of the bright blue Fee Flower.

She'd been awed when he conjured up the flower from his pocket dimension, marvelling at the sight of such simple magic. Bright-eyed and enamoured, she hadn't been able to look away once, as if drawn to it.

"Mister Wolf," she said hesitantly, "would you like to meet my mummy?" Her legs wiggled nervously as she threw her hands up. "Don't worry, my mummy isn't like others, she likes faeries! She reads me lots of books about them, and also, she's very nice! I think you'd like her. She's the best."

Indeed, she wasn't like the others.

The mere idea of seeing Minna again made his stomach coil. He'd come here for that very reason, and ended up postponing it for fear of her response. For fear that she'd moved on irrevocably, not deigning to even consider listening to him.

Mostly, he was terrified that she'd turn him away and forbid him from seeing Elowen as well. A part of him knew that Minna, the Minna he'd known for well over a decade, would never do such a thing. But that part of him had also never imagined she'd run away without warning, taking their child with her.

But Gods help him if he wasn't desperate to see her again, like a starving man willing to conform himself even with crumbs.

"I'd quite like that," he said carefully. "But perhaps your mummy wouldn't be so happy to meet me."

In normal circumstances, any mother might be displeased with their child coming to them, wanting to present their newfound faerie friend. Now, a child showing up with a new faerie friend who also happened to be one's estranged husband--and the legitimate father of said child--was probably in the top ten list of bad ways to start the week.