Put back together

53. Mother, Mother, they made me a monster

Warning: Brief mention of death & murder/execution and swearing

It had been a while since Virgil had sung.
Right now it was probably the only thing that kept him going.

Singing had different meanings to different people, he had found over the years. Some sang when they were happy, when they were celebrating, others sang when they were sad or mourning. People sang during travels to pass the time and they sang while working. They sang in groups or duets or alone.

To Virgil singing meant magic.

He wasn't even sure if he could sing without doing magic. He had never tried.

Theoretically it didn't matter what he sang but he had begun to consciously pick out the right songs years ago.
If he sung for magic it was usually something that had to be powerful and in his opinion using a song with a polar opposite topic of what he wanted to do just wasn't acceptable.

Probably one of the best parts of knowing as many languages as he did was that he could learn so many songs.

Other people collected postmarks or old coins or Pokémon cards, he collected songs.

Under his boots a Scullbreaker flew it's rounds and eyed him warily. It wasn't sure if he was prey or what he was even doing.

He gave it the double birds.

Walking through air was probably the most wonderful idea he had ever had.

Who needed bridges and all that crap if you could just sing a song and turn off physics and gravity for yourself?

What wasn't going well currently was that Patton and the others were holding a steady pace. He had expected them to be slower, since they didn't know the territory they were in but somehow they had found the fastest way.

Had they asked someone?

It seemed rather unlikely, given that they probably wanted to avoid attention but the best he could come up with.

His feet met solid ground again and Virgil duked into the safe darkness of the trees.

He was home.

His Islands hadn't changed since he had left and while he could have predicted that it was a nice reassurance. They didn't change. They didn't get any worse. He had all the time in the world figure out how to fix them, once King Marley was dead.

Virgil remembered a song from many many years ago. It had been sung after executions of criminals that had terrified the people. Sometimes even before.
A song to celebrate a violent death.

He skipped the second verse, the words long forgotten, even though he was pretty sure it had been his favourite back then.

Maybe he was being a bit rash to celebrate just yet but maybe it wasn't all that bad to be optimistic once in a while.

--~--

Having Remus back at home was wonderful and a catastrophe at the same time.
Virgil had once described things like this as 'a train wreck'. As something horrible that you just couldn't look away from.

Janus had no idea what a train was but it sounded like a good description.

Remus was pretty much the same as he had been when he had left. Well, personality wise.
He had obviously grown up and had new fangs and tentacles but the wide grin, the deranged laugh and the morbid humour were the same they had always been.

Janus managed to convince him to get dressed (not that he was expecting it to last long) and had told the maids to set the table for three today again.

"I met Virgin just a few days ago!" Remus announced happily as he bit into his steak. "It was a bit weird!"

"That is totally not interesting," Janus murmured and pointedly ignored that Remus had eaten his fork. That didn't matter anyway. It wasn't the first time either.

Janus listened carefully as Remus recounted his encounters in the swamp and gave Persephone a pointed look when Remus mentioned her letter.

In turn they told him in detail about what had happened at the castle when Virgil had come to visit.

Remus cackled in delight when he heard about Janus accidentally sentencing Patton, Roman and Logan to prison.

"So that's why they asked what that would mean!"

Janus noticed the newer guard standing by the entrance flinch at Remus' laugh.

"Yes, so funny," he drawled.

"Where did that fucker even end up at?" Remus asked.

Persephone shrugged. "Probably left the country as fast as he could. He wasn't a complete idiot after all. And if he hasn't he's probably long dead."

"True, you and Vi woulda killed him within weeks, no matter how good his protection spells were. A little sad though. I used to like Remy. He taught me how to steal bracelets while shaking people's hands."

Janus bit his lip. Most of his memories of the former royal mage were great.
Mother hadn't always had time for them after Father's death and after the war. During that time Remy had usually looked after them and taught all four of them quite a few slightly to horribly illegal things.
Not to mention the swear words.

"See all those people swarming around your mother? They're ass kissers. All of them. They think if they suck up to her enough they'll get money and titles and favours. Otherwise they would be complete fucking dicks," he recalled Remy telling him one day. It had stuck with him to this day. And once Remy had pointed those royals out to him he had begun to notice their behaviour himself.
Especially once he had been crowned king.

"You see, your mother is a smart woman. So she gives the money and titles and all that other shit to people who actually deserve them. That's why the ass lickers don't like her. Sometimes it's better to be a good regent than a popular one," Remy had continued and taken a sip from his 'Starbys'.

"But if people hate their regent they will eventually do something about it," Janus had frowned. "That's what Mama said."

"Your mother is unpopular with the other royals but her subjects love her. Ask any guard or maid or servant or farmer. So even if the royals were to try something, they'd have the entire country against them."

Janus had looked over the the guards standing at the doors.

"Anyway, kid," Remy had put an arm around his shoulder, "have I ever show you how to get someone to do something they don't want to in just five minutes?"

The memory left a bitter aftertaste and Janus tried to wash it down with his wine.

His hand brushed against his scales and a lump formed in his throat.

A small part of him still didn't want to believe that the man, who he had come to see as family, who had taught him profound life lessons one second and illegal tricks the next, who had helped Persephone and Virgil with their magic and had been his Mother's closest confidant, and the man, who had done this to him, were the same person.

Maybe people were right. Maybe he was still too childish to be king.

By the way: Happy Pride month!
I hope you're having a good time despite there being no parades this year! Stay safe and be proud of who you are! You're awesome!

As always feel free to comment, ask questions or roast me for spelling errors!

Have a nice gay (day)!