A Kind of Magic

Twenty-Five

Gilderoy moved through the night with Alaric's daughter on his arm as if he were sleep walking. Everything felt like a dream. Not only did they really find Fiona and she looked like a woman who would make a good queen, she also had a stunning child, who, in a few years spent at his grandfather's court, might become an even more suitable, and furthermore, a more willing ruler. 

He caught Peregrine's raised eyebrows look which the dragon cast him over his shoulder when the boy enquired about his sword-- it seemed that the young man, apart from being a Highlander, inherited his mother's kind of magic, whatever it was exactly, too. Gilderoy nodded to his friend, letting him know that he had noticed before the dragon's eyes seeked Fiona's. But she didn't meet his gaze, as if she was afraid that Peregrine would judge her for being a mother...

Gilderoy wished to tell her that he knew Peregrine well enough to be certain that the fact that she had raised the boy alone would not make him think less of her, on the contrary. But it wasn't really his place to do so, and the time wasn't right-- despite their obvious mutual attraction, she and the dragon shifter had only just met. What he should be doing was trying to convince Princess Fiona to come home with them. Then she and Peregrine would have as much time to talk and get to know each other as they wanted. 

Soft laughter reached him from behind, Fiona's mother seemed to be having a great time with Leodhais... If his best friend really excelled at something, it was charming women. Gilderoy chuckled, making Fiona turn to him when he realised that she, whom Leodhais was supposed to court, and marry, was the only woman who had ever resisted his charm.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, looking in her eyes. 

She wasn't taller than his Aryana... He missed the werewolf girl just like Leodhais missed his Annwyn. Now that it was decided that they needed to act fast, he would see her again soon, and he couldn't wait. He just needed to help the others to convince Fiona that coming to Silmarea was the best thing for her and her son. 

"How old is your son?" Gilderoy asked after a while of picking through the appropriate conversation starters in his mind, knowing well that Peregrine would be listening to them as intently as he listened to the boy who was telling the dragon everything about his favourite books at the moment, it seemed.

"He's ten," Fiona muttered. "I was eighteen when he was born."

Gilderoy nodded. Alaric had taken his sweet time to recall that he might have sired a child. 

"I suppose... it wasn't easy, bringing him up on your own?" he probed. Goodness, he was older than her, but the thought of becoming a father had not crossed his mind yet. Being a good parent meant leading a life filled with love and joy but also worries and sacrifices. It required perseverance and strength he wasn't sure he possessed.

"I don't regret anything," she replied immediately, raising her chin fiercely, eyes intent on the back of the boy's head.

"How could you? He seems to be a wonderful boy," Gilderoy said quickly, his voice tinged with apology. 

He hadn't meant it that way; he didn't want her to think that he judged her because he didn't. What he felt towards the frail-looking woman walking at his side was pure admiration. But at least her words confirmed his guess about her being a single parent-- Peregrine wouldn't linger around like this if he sensed the boy's father anywhere near. The other Highlander must have left them a long time ago. 

It didn't surprise Gilderoy. From what he knew about the Highlanders, they never settled down for fear of being hunted by others of their own kind. The thought made him look at Peregrine as he realised for the first time that the dark man whom he had come to consider his friend in such a short time had the same destiny lying in front of him...