Archive of Our Own

A ruler does not have a life of their own. That is the lesson Malleus’s Grandmother taught him since he was young. Every choice he makes can have great impact on the lives of his people. He must be conscious of his image at all times—now more than ever, considering that he is at Night Raven College and an active representative of Briar Valley—and never forget his duty. As such, there are certain things he must give up on for the sake of his country: the choice of his fiancée is only one of many small sacrifices he made over the past hundred and seventy years.

This lesson is the one thing he will never be able to forget. A truth deeply engraved in his soul over the time Lilia wasn’t there to remind him of his worth as a person. Even now, as he lies in a bed that is not his own, covered in blankets with patterns that do not and will never fit the aesthetic of his family, Malleus cannot shake away the thought that this is all a mistake.

He should be better than this. He should keep in mind the best interests of his people before his own selfish, personal desires. He should have grown into a faithful, loving husband and cherish his wife to the end of his days. And yet...

And yet, he cannot find it in himself to push Kingscholar’s arm away. He cannot gather the strength to pick up his clothes and head back to his own dorm and pretend that this, all of this, was nothing more than a pleasant dream. Dreams, he recalls, are so precious because they always come to an end. And Malleus—he should end this.

“You can’t.” Kingscholar’s hot breath hits his ear, eliciting a shiver from Malleus. “You love me too much to let go.”

Does he? Malleus swallows. Love feels too strong a word for this. There is a finality to it that he cannot bear to deal with at the moment. Love, true love, is something you carry for life. It is the concretization of dreams, the light that guides one's future. If he were to love Kingscholar, then Malleus would never be able to let go. He would fail his country, his people, his family. What would his mother say, knowing that the nation she sacrificed her life for fell to the hands of a man as selfish as Malleus?

He cannot imagine her feeling anything other than shame and disappointment.

No. He cannot call this emotion love. He cannot fail. He has to be perfect. After all, if people cannot rely on his power and ability to rule... Then what value will he have? Would they even want to stick by his side at all?

The thought makes Malleus’s heart break a little. At the same time, Kingscholar holds him that much tighter. Its body is warm against Malleus’s. With all its strength, it has a very real chance at breaking Malleus’s body if it tries. But it does not. Kingscholar is nothing if not careful with him. It holds him like it is holding a precious, fragile treasure and Malleus—his heart does a very dangerous thing at the realization.

“Hey, now.” Kingscholar’s hand strokes Malleus’s arm. Its claws are awfully retracted. Malleus cannot help but wish they would tear his flesh instead like the beast Kingscholar claims to be. That, Malleus thinks, would be much easier to deal with than this. “I told you already: leave all problems out the door when you’re here.”

Malleus snorts. It is quite the inelegant sound. He can only imagine the Senate would be gasping in horror if they were to hear it. But they are not here. This place, Kingscholar’s room, is a safe haven just for the two of them. He can let go of his control, just a little, just as long as he is here.

It owes Kingscholar this much, after all the pleasure it provided him.

“That is easier said than done.” Malleus sighs. He closes his eyes. “My being here with you is a gargantuan problem on its own.”

And it is Kingscholar’s turn to snort. The sound of it makes Malleus smile minimally. It is strange. He should not feel nearly as proud as he does making this man laugh.

“Right. Those pricks’d all be horrified if they knew the big bad lion defiled their precious lil’ prince.” Malleus could have heard the mockery in its voice from miles away. “If only they knew the shit their lil’ prince can pull on bed.”

Malleus’s smile grows indescribably smug. He remembers all too clear every last mark he left on Kingscholar’s body. His fingertips are still painted red with its blood. The bite marks lining its shoulders will likely take days, if not weeks to heal. Some of them will be impossible to hide under the sleeveless Savanaclaw uniform. Everyone will know Kingscholar has an owner...

They simply will not know that said owner is Malleus.

It truly should not bother him nearly as much as it does. Malleus was the one that requested their encounters be kept a secret. He knows it kept its word, for Bucchi still quivers in his boots whenever he sees Malleus in the hallways. It is for the best. That way, when this dream inevitably comes to an end, Malleus will be able to carry on with his life with minimal repercussions. And Kingscholar, too, benefits from the secret. Malleus cannot imagine a world where Savanaclaw as a dorm would accept him as Kingscholar’s mate. That is... Inconceivable, given their history and their righteous grudges against him.

Yes. That is right. He cannot let himself ruin so many things, so many lives, due to his selfishness. And, most of all... Malleus cannot allow the truth of their relationship to get back to Diasomnia.

“There you go again, wastin’ time thinkin’ of stupid shit.” Kingscholar growls under its breath. Malleus shudders. Such a possessive beast it is—it is only natural that Kingscholar is not pleased by the perceived slight. Nevermind that it is the only thing Malleus can think of most days. “Should I remind you who you belong to, Malleus?”

Ah. Kingscholar has to be well aware of how utterly weak Malleus is against this tone of voice at this point. The way it says those words, the sheer inhumanity hidden behind that light growl, the sweetness that shapes Malleus’s name on its tongue... How could he not desire this man? How could Malleus not give in to his desires, let Kingscholar do as it wishes to his body?

Hands that carry the power to destroy guide Malleus to lie on his back with gentle ease. Malleus closes his eyes, lets his legs be spread open to give more room to Kingscholar. He can feel its gaze on his body. He knows those vibrant eyes will be the first thing he will see if he opens his own. But then—then there will be no hiding the emotions swirling deep inside his chest. Kingscholar is far too perceptive for its own good. It will undoubtedly catch on to Malleus’s flimsy lies if their gazes meet now.

That, Malleus knows well, is the one thing he cannot let happen. It will only make things harder for them in the long run. He has to, he has to be strong now. Stronger than he truly is.

Kingscholar’s hands idly travel up Malleus’s torso. Its fingers are cold against Malleus’s heated skin. The shock of sensation makes something in him tremble with anticipation. He wants Kingscholar to keep touching him. He wants those fingers to be warmed up by the very fire burning deep inside Malleus, the fire that keeps him alive day after day. He wants that memory to stay with Kingscholar as an invisible mark.

A kiss lands on Malleus’s collarbone. A rough tongue swipes over his neck. The angle makes it impossible for Kingscholar to see his face. Malleus opens his eyes. The gray ceiling above looks both foreign and incredibly precious. Malleus’s room in Diasomnia is nothing like this, and neither is his room back at Black Scale Castle. This color, this type of building, is one he intimately associates with Leona Kingscholar.

“Say, Malleus,” it whispers against his skin.

One of Kingscholar’s hands move back down. Its fingertips trace invisible lines on his side, each of them directly leading to Malleus’s slit. His breath catches. Malleus blames it on his own weakness. Kingscholar is yet to touch him the way he wants, and Malleus is already gasping for air, choking on pleasured moans that he can do nothing to control.

He swallows. His hands find home on Kingscholar’s biceps. Malleus’s fingers dig into the skin. He has just enough awareness and control over his two-legged form to keep his nails short. Malleus knows too well that they will not remain so for much longer.

He waits, but nothing comes. Malleus licks his lips. They feel awfully dry. “Yes?”

His voice sounds small and weak, but it seems to be enough. Kingscholar drags its teeth over the curve of Malleus’s neck. The action is a pleasant reminder. Beasts, like fae, posses scent glands. By biting these glands, they have the ability to form lifelong bonds with their partners. If Kingscholar were to bite Malleus now, they would be tied for the rest of their lives.

Mates. They would become mates, and no one in this Twisted Wonderland would have the power to keep them apart. Not even Maleficia Draconia, who is considered the strongest of all mages, has the power to break a mating bond.

Low heat curls in Malleus’s gut. He finds himself wanting for that, craving for this one thing he will never be allowed to have.

He bites his lip, hard, to keep down a whine when Kingscholar’s lips move away from his neck. Malleus forces himself to focus on something else—like the way Kingscholar’s heartbeats sound much faster than they did a moment ago. Its breath sounds heavy. A measure to regain control, Malleus realizes. He is not the only one affected by... All this.

That should not make him feel nearly as relieved as he does.

It takes another moment, but Kingscholar finally breathes out. “You gonna miss me out there?”

The question is, decidedly, not what Malleus expected to hear. Tomorrow is the beginning of their winter break. By all means, mere two weeks should not be enough to make Malleus miss anything from this school. It especially should not be enough to make him miss the company of a ruthless beast such as Kingscholar.

No, those two weeks will go by in a blur, Malleus is sure. Between his duties as the crown prince, the homework left by their heartless teachers, and finding time to sneak out of the palace to see Lilia, Silver and Sebek, Malleus theoretically should not have time to think of anything and anyone else.

Theoretically, he would not miss Kingscholar.

In full honesty, Malleus’s heart is already aching at the prospect of letting it go.

“Will you?” he says in lieu of an answer. Malleus wants to believe that the rhythm of his breath did not alter in the slightest. He wants to believe that Kingscholar will not be able to hear the thunderous beats of his treacherous heart.

It is a silly hope to have. Kingscholar’s senses are even sharper than Malleus’s. It knows. And yet, in a rare show of mercy, Kingscholar does not call him out on it.

“Who knows.” The flat tone of its voice does not match the way its grip on Malleus’s waist tightens. “At least I ain’t gonna have fun with that fur ball ‘round.”

Malleus huffs. He is aware that fur ball refers to Kingscholar’s nephew, Cheka Kingscholar. The Prefect and Asim told Malleus many stories. The little prince absolutely adores his uncle—Leona-ojii-tan, he has heard, and the moniker tugs at Malleus’s heartstrings in all ways they should not—and is likely overjoyed knowing it will return home for the holidays.

To feel envious of a child is downright absurd. Malleus envies Cheka Kingscholar, for he will have everything Malleus wants most for weeks.

A selfish man he is, indeed. Malleus cannot find it in himself to feel ashamed of it.

“You sure you don’t wanna come with me?” Kingscholar’s voice drops lower. It seems to tremble around the words, yet Malleus is sure that must be his imagination. “I’ll take you to see Pride Rock, show you ‘round the royal libraries, teach you ‘bout the architecture...” Kingscholar’s fingers circle around Malleus’s already wet slit. “An’ I’ll keep your bed warm every night, just as you like it.”

Malleus keens. It is a pathetic, needy sound. He needs more. He wants that, he wants to be with Kingscholar. He wants to see all about its home, to be the one Kingscholar returns to when the sun sets. He wants to be taken by it again and again, all night long, to be recognized as its lover, its mate.

He blinks several times. It does very little to stave off the tears. Malleus reminds himself of all the reasons why he should not let that happen under any circumstance. He thinks of his people, of his Grandmother’s efforts, of his fiancée whose face he frankly does not even remember anymore. To belong to Kingscholar means failing his duty as a prince.

But he—he has to be better than that. He has to be stronger than this temptation.

Malleus closes his eyes. He forces a smile on his lips. “Perhaps another time.” He knows it will never happen. He does not have the heart to utter those words out loud, however.

If his answer displeases Kingscholar, Malleus will never know. The next thing he feels are soft lips and thick fingers slowly penetrating his vent. Malleus shudders. He moans into the kiss. It feels good. Too good, in fact. And still it is not nearly enough to satisfy him. Not only is he a selfish man, Malleus also finds himself to be quite the greedy one as well.

Not that it matters. He knows Kingscholar. It will not stop until it is thoroughly satisfied. And, for Kingscholar, Malleus’s pleasure is an important component to said satisfaction. That is how great a partner it truly is. Attentive and oddly sweet under a mask of arrogance and malice. How could Malleus not—

He swallows. He feels nothing. That is how things should be. Kingscholar is... It is... A frustrated groan escapes Malleus’s lips. It is angry at Kingscholar, yes, for making him feel so much when he absolutely should not. Right. It is all its fault. Malleus bites its lip, hard to the point of bleeding, in a fit of righteous fury.

It is a stupid move, he knows. One of the things he found about Kingscholar over the past months is that it thrives in the presence of blood. The smell, the taste, they all make its instincts sing. It is no punishment at all. In fact, Malleus could not find a better reward for it even if he tried.

Just as he expected, Kingscholar pulls away with a wide grin on its lips. Blood drips down its chin. It makes no move to wipe it. Malleus cannot look away. The way the deep red stains its tanned skin is far too alluring for him.

He briefly wonders how beautiful Kingscholar would look if it was Malleus’s blood on its skin. It is a strange thought, one most unbecoming of a predator of Malleus’s order. And, frankly, it is also an incredible display of masochism that he is not sure what to make of.

Malleus decides, such fantasies would be much better explored in the safety of a dream.

“Eager, are we?” Kingscholar all but sings. Malleus’s eyes stupidly move to meet its gaze. The sheer hunger he sees in Kingscholar’s eyes makes something deep inside him quiver, but it is the something else he can see in them that makes his breath catch in his throat. He does not dare try naming that emotion. Malleus is sure it will not help his goal of keeping his own feelings to himself at all.

Ridiculous.

There are no feelings to begin with. He has to remember this if he wants any chance at convincing himself of it. If only he can do that, then this lie will undoubtedly become true as well.

“Don’t worry, mpenzi.” Ah. There is that word again. Kingscholar has used it quite a number of times now, yet Malleus has no idea what it means. He does not wish to search for it either—he is not sure what he will do if it reveals something he absolutely cannot rationalize away. “I’ll make you feel real good in a sec.”

Malleus has no doubt that it will. Kingscholar never failed to make him see stars before. It certainly will not start now.

Its mouth returns to Malleus’s neck. Kingscholar sucks and bites on the skin with fervor. It seems intent on fighting Malleus’s naturally fast healing by leaving worse bruises each time—or, perhaps, it is merely attempting to leave a mark that Malleus cannot hide, to force him to reveal their little trysts to the world. It will not work regardless of intent. Malleus will not allow it to happen.

It is not because he does not want to. It is merely because he knows he can’t.

Kingscholar’s fingers curl inside him at that moment. Malleus’s back arches in response, a long, drawn out moan escaping his lips. Yes. That is more like it. That is just a little closer to what Malleus so desperately craves. He wants more, he needs more. Not just Kingscholar’s fingers, but its cock and its semen and everything else it is willing to give Malleus.

It is a strange feeling. Malleus can still feel Kingscholar’s seed overflowing from when it filled him earlier that night. By all means, he should not be feeling so insatiable. He wonders if it is his body’s response to the knowledge that this will be the last time they see each other in a long while.

He purses his lips. So much for pretending he is unaffected. If anything, Malleus likely would find more success in giving up this pretense of control here and now.

“Please,” he whispers. His voice trembles with pure anguish. Kingscholar’s gaze flicks up to his face. Malleus closes his eyes. He fears, he will be too far gone if he allows himself to see its eyes now. “M-More.”

Kingscholar smiles. The sight of its fangs makes Malleus wish it could just bite him tenfold. It removes its fingers from him and replaces them with its cock instead. Oh. Malleus’s eyes roll back with the sheer pleasure of being filled again. Kingscholar’s cock is larger than Malleus’s and almost as thick as both of his own together. The barbs lining its head only serves to add to the near masochist exhilaration he feels every time Kingscholar is inside him.

This, this sensation, is one thing Malleus can admit to loving. He loves being filled. He loves the delicious burn those barbs leave as they scrap his insides.

No other partner would be able to make Malleus feel like this. His fiancée would never be able to give him the same pleasure. And that—that is the main reason why Malleus comes back to Kingscholar. It does not matter that he absolutely should not. That this is wrong on all conceivable levels.

Malleus bites his lip. Kingscholar leans down again, seemingly drawn by the sight. It kisses Malleus with hunger and passion. The taste of its blood only serves to increase Malleus’s pleasure. He wraps his legs around Kingscholar’s waist, silently egging it to thrust harder, faster, just as Malleus enjoys it most.

Because that is how things have been from the start: at the end of the day, Kingscholar is the one who knows this side of Malleus best in the world.

“Fuck,” Kingscholar curses against Malleus’s lips. Sweat rolls down its forehead. The bead creaks menacingly. If not for the soundproofing spell Malleus himself put in place earlier, he is sure, the entirety of Savanaclaw would be well aware of what is happening in this room. Kingscholar grins at him, a toothy, bloody grin that makes his heart tremble with something he refuses to name. “Can’t get tired of you, y’know that?”

He certainly hopes so, for Malleus feels the same. He pulls Kingscholar into another kiss. The scent of blood gets stronger by the moment. Oh. Right. It is all thanks to his claws. They came out again at some point, making a bloody work on Kingscholar’s back. Malleus hopes it hurts. He hopes that the pain will linger for days to come, to remind Kingscholar of this moment.

A particularly deep thrust steals Malleus’s breath. He moans, and whines, and cries out for more. Pathetically, he begs Kingscholar to indulge him, to fuck him so hard that he can forget all the problems and worries and, and—Malleus’s entire body shudders. His orgasm hits him as it always does: the crash of a wave, washing out every coherent thought akin to the sea erasing footprints from the beach. For a moment, everything becomes a peaceful blank. Malleus holds tight onto Kingscholar’s shoulders, hides his face against its neck.

It continues thrusting into him, but it does not last long. Malleus is satisfied, and thus Kingscholar, too, finds its completion soon.

It is strange. Malleus feels cherished in a way he cannot quite describe. He feels like he is a priority in Kingscholar’s life, like he matter more than its own pleasure. It is a foolish thought, he is well aware. There is simply no way...

“Say my name, Malleus,” it asks in a voice that is even weaker than a whisper. It is not the first time it asks this. It is the first time Malleus almost concedes. 

Almost.

In the silence that stretches between them, Kingscholar embraces Malleus in return. It takes feeling its strong arms around him for Malleus to realize he is trembling. Pathetic. Weak. No predator should behave like this. And yet, Kingscholar does not mock him. It only holds him, and nuzzles into his hair, and Malleus feels safe. Everything will be alright as long as he stays in its arms.

How cruel it is, that Malleus cannot stay forever.

He slips out of the bed as soon as the sun starts rising in the horizon. Malleus picks his clothes from the floor and puts them on piece by piece. It is a pathetic attempt at dragging out the minutes, a flimsy excuse to stay and watch Kingscholar’s peacefully sleeping face just a little longer. He casts a small healing spell on himself with nothing but pain in his heart. With a flick of his wrist, he teleports back to his room at Diasomnia.

Malleus stares at half-made luggage sitting on his bed. Going back home should have been a joyous affair. If nothing else, he can reconnect with the places he feels most comfortable at. He can also take come time to rest from the suffocating atmosphere of Night Raven College—always surrounded by people yet feared and hated in all directions, an even more lonesome experience than growing up at Black Scale Castle.

He swallows. He should be happy. Perhaps, this time he will be able to see his grandmother again.

And yet... All Malleus feels is a deep sense of misery.

He bites his lip and straightens his back just a little more. There is no need to be so harsh on himself. It will only be two weeks. Nothing terrible will happen. He can endure a little while without seeing Kingscholar.

He will be fine.

***

Much to Malleus’s absolute devastation, he is not, in fact, fine.

Far from it, actually. He is miserable and his days utterly ruined. Empty and lonely, devoid of any meaning aside from this trial the Fairy of Thorns herself seems to have placed upon him. He cannot remember a single happy thing that happened during the first week of winter break. Even his visits to Lilia’s home were underwhelming at best. And, to make matters worse, he is yet to get rid of the headache and nausea that have installed themselves in Malleus’s body since day three without Kingscholar. He does not recommend this experience to anyone, a total of zero out of ten points.

And, perhaps, he should stop spending so much time with Little Shroud. He is corrupting Malleus’s mind with his—what was it called again? Internet slug?

“Slang, Malleus,” Lilia corrects him as if it is that obvious. “Internet slang.”

Right. He has also taken to speaking out loud to himself these days. It is not exactly a good sign at all. It just means that Malleus is closer and closer to slipping away. And that, that is terrifying. Attending Night Raven College has greatly helped with this one issue of his. He does not wish to go back to the days where he is hardly aware of his surroundings and the passage of time for hours, days, even weeks on end.

No. That is the one thing Malleus does not want at all. But how can he fix this when he does not even know what the root cause of the problem is?

... Although, he suspects the lack of Kingscholar is a huge factor in it. Which does not, in fact, make things better. It just adds to Malleus’s nightmare, because clearly it means he is far more affected by it than he wishes to admit. More than he is allowed to admit.

A heavy sigh escapes his lips. Malleus knows well these are all things he cannot really be open with Lilia about. He is far too scared of his reaction to say anything about it. He does not wish to see the disappointment on Lilia’s otherwise cheerful face.

“Are you sure you should be here?” Malleus asks. His gaze falls on the two boys training on the other side of the river. “They will miss your guidance.”

Malleus knows very well how excited Sebek has been for winter break. He missed being able to train directly under Lilia’s instructions. The frequency of such events have greatly decreased since Malleus and Lilia enrolled at Night Raven College, and even now that Sebek is a first year at the same school, their different years and clubs and other responsibilities mean that they could not spend nearly as much time together as they wish they could.

He does not want to take this unique experience away from Sebek. Seven knows how much Sebek gives up every day for the sake of serving Malleus. At least this much, Malleus should be able to give him.

And yet, selfishly, Malleus does not want Lilia to go. Perhaps he can stay with him on this bench just a little longer, just enough that his scent will help reduce Malleus’s nausea and stress. He knows that is too much to ask. Malleus always asks for too much.

Lilia never fails to give him exactly what he needs.

“So it’s okay for me to just miss you instead?” The smile that curves his lips is playful and teasing, but the fondness in his eyes is all Malleus needs to know he is being truthful. “Silly hatchling, always too kind for your own good. You look terrible and still care about them more than yourself.”

Malleus makes a face. He is not kind. None of his recent actions have been kind. On the contrary, he is finding himself to be more and more selfish and cruel and ugly each day. But saying that much would beg the question of why he feels this way.

Another sigh escapes his lips. Malleus... He is tired. He is tired of hiding, of lying. It is a surprising feeling, considering he has been in this strange relationship with Kingscholar for about three months. Maybe even less than that. Malleus would never dream of kissing it before the Interdorm Spelldrive Tournament—but, somehow, he found his way to its bed soon after the event, driven by desire and something akin to desperation.

Kingscholar could have died. It could have died and Malleus would never have known what it is like to have those vibrant eyes look at him with anything other than contempt. He would never have known the gentleness hidden behind those powerful hands. His heart would never have sung with something akin to affection, and he would have remained perfectly comfortable with the engagement his Grandmother arranged for him all those decades ago.

He swallows. Malleus’s gaze falls to his lap. He stares at his hands, how pale his skin looks against the pitch black fabric of his robes. They are in the weight of winter. The air is exceedingly cold and the small river crossing the clearing has frozen over. If Malleus focuses enough, he can see the shadows of little water creatures moving about under the ice. He can only imagine, Silver’s bear friend would be heartbroken if he saw so much food just outside his reach. Perhaps, it is for the best that he hibernated, after all.

Despite the low temperature, Malleus’s clothes are rather thin. A simple warming spell on the innermost layer of fabric and his dragon fire are more than enough to keep him warm. Thus, he is regrettably unable to join Lilia, and Silver on their marshmallow-shape fashion trend—a name that surprisingly came from Silver.

The silence that stretches between them is only cut off by the huffs and puffs from the sparring boys. Like Malleus, Sebek chose to rely on warming spells rather than thicker layers of clothes. And even then, he is facing great difficulty against Silver. Malleus cannot help but feel proud of Silver. His little beastie has grown so much and proven himself worthy of his position, surpassing many fae in both strength and skill. He is also a great influence on Sebek, Malleus thinks. Without Silver, he knows well, Sebek would still have no respect for the human race, or any race outside the fae.

Now if only they could get over their hesitation and get together soon...

“Ow!” Malleus whines. He brings a hand to smooth over the back of his head, a prominent pout on his lips. He looks at Lilia with all the might of a wronged kitten. Lilia sets his hand down. He has no remorse for smacking Malleus the way he did. “Care to tell what that was for?”

“For being an idiot,” Lilia says. “For trying to shoulder everything on your own. For keeping secrets from me.” He looks at Malleus then. His gaze is so sharp that Malleus is forcefully reminded that the General of the Right still lives in Lilia. He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Frankly, of all things you could have inherited from your mother it had to be her stubbornness? I’ll grow all wrinkled and gray before I see any of you walk down the aisle at this rate.”

Malleus sucks in a breath. He can count on perhaps one hand the amount of times Lilia openly mentioned his mother in the past. Malleus assumed it was too painful a topic for him and never dared ask... But the way Lilia speaks now makes him wonder if perhaps his assessment was incorrect.

He purses his lips. Malleus does not wish to lie to Lilia anymore... Least of all because, he knows very well, that Lilia will catch on any lie he spouts at this moment.

“Look. I know I’m not as strong as I was before. The old fossil would very likely wipe the floor with me.” Malleus takes a moment to think how oddly inefficient that would be. Surely Baul Zigvolt has better methods of cleaning? “And I definitely can’t do shit about your grandmother either.” Malleus shudders even thinking about Maleficia Draconia in a fight. “So, I mean, I suppose I can get why you wouldn’t trust your secrets to me.”

Oh.

Malleus’s heart breaks into a million pieces at Lilia’s expression. There is so much sorrow in his eyes... It fills Malleus’s chest with guilty. And he is wrong. So, so wrong.

His silence has nothing to do with lack of trust. Lilia’s supposed strength never played a part in any of this. Malleus is merely weak. A terrified hatchling, to use Lilia’s own choice of words. He does not have his parents anymore, and his Grandmother couldn’t be any more distant even if she tried. He cannot stand the fact of disappointing Lilia. The thought that he could lose him at all paralyzes Malleus.

But... But if this is how Lilia sees things, if this is how Malleus made him feel—is he not already failing?

His lower lip wobbles. Malleus does not dare look his mentor and father figure in the eye. “You are wrong.” His voice sounds so weak. It is pathetic. Ridiculous. “I am just scared.”

This seems to make Lilia pause. His gaze is heavy on Malleus’s shoulders. It makes Malleus wish to flee. He knows he must stay exactly where he is. A small, gloved hand rests on his own. Malleus does not squirm away from the touch and that, he supposes, should be counted as a victory.

“Fear is a perfectly normal emotion. It is part of life and necessary to help you grow. There is nothing to be ashamed of.” Lilia squeezes his hand. It is a reassuring and warm touch. “But you should not have to experience it alone. Because you aren’t alone and we’ll never let you be.”

Malleus looks up. The Lilia he sees looks quite distorted. Blurred and shaky around the edges. He blinks. Warmth slides down his cheek. Oh. So he is crying. Malleus is not sure why it has been happening so often lately. In fact, he feels like he has never had such an emotionally unstable time as he had the past seven days. It would have picked his curiosity in any other circumstances; but now, now he is just peeved by this fact.

“... You promise?” he asks.

“Why, of course.” Lilia smiles at him. It is bright and affectionate, a smile that Malleus has often seen Lilia giving to Silver. His real son. Malleus heart does a thing and more tears swell in his eyes. “You’re my family too, you know that. And what kind of monster would abandon a child?”

A low, breathy chuckle escapes Malleus’s lips. They are family, indeed, but Malleus is only a child in Lilia’s eyes. He is not surprised. Though Lilia rarely speaks of his parents, Malleus knows he respects and loves them too much to try taking their place. And yet, part of Malleus wishes Lilia realized that he is taking no one’s place. That his being akin to a father in Malleus’s heart does not erase Raverne’s existence.

Lilia is Lilia. He does not take anything away. He only adds and gives and loves—and that love is the one thing Malleus is terrified of losing the most.

But Lilia promised. Now he has to fulfill it.

“I have committed a mistake.” Malleus pauses, and adds: “I continuously committed a mistake, nearly every day for months. And though the guilt eats me alive, I cannot stop. Not as long as I am at school.”

That is true. Malleus is struggling enough merely spending some days away from Kingscholar. He cannot begin to imagine what it would be like to see it every day and not be in its arms. The fact that their encounters are purely sexual does not detract from how he feels... Although, perhaps one could argue the accuracy of that statement.

He recalls many instances of Kingscholar taking its time to wipe down the semen and sweat from Malleus’s body. Of Kingscholar bringing out more pillows to put under Malleus’s head in a way that did not make lying on his back uncomfortable with his horns. And he very specifically, very vividly recalls being half asleep from the exhaustion of sex and hearing a distant, sweet lullaby.

Are those things he should expect from a so-called casual fling? Malleus does not know. Perhaps Kingscholar was just doing the bare minimum for someone whose brains it just fucked out... But Malleus wants to believe those were all things it did for Malleus, because it cares about him, because he has a chance... At something. Something he should not crave for, and something he likely will never have.

He swallows. His gaze falls on the boys again. They have let go of their wooden swords at some point, and now Sebek is towering over Silver with a clearly worked up expression. He ends up taking out his outer coat and putting it around Silver’s shoulders. Sebek rubs Silver’s arms insistently, trying to warm him up. His cheeks are somehow redder than Silver’s nose. When Silver looks up at him with eyes full of awe and so much love.

It is quite the endearing sight. Malleus’s heart twists with something like jealousy. That, this thing they have, is exactly what he wants.

He wants Kingscholar to look at him like he means the world to it. He wants it to fuss over his well being and take the pains to ensure his comfort. He wants Kingscholar to hold him like it loves him, like he is worth the effort.

He wants Kingscholar to love him the same way Malleus loves it.

Malleus sucks in a breath. He looks away from Silver and Sebek and their staggering obliviousness to their mutual love, away from Lilia and whatever emotions his eyes carry right now.

“I have not honored my engagement.” Malleus’s breath stutters. Should he truly feel so much lighter now that he is revealing his disgrace? “I failed to be faithful to Lady Jiang.” Malleus licks his lips. Irrationally, he thinks he can taste Kingscholar.

“Ah.” Lilia makes a disgruntled sound. Malleus does not dare look at him. The worst possibilities are flashing before his eyes again when Lilia speaks up: “Well, fuck. Now I’m losing my money too.”

Malleus freezes. He turns around very slowly. Lilia does look disappointed... But not in the furious, saddened way Malleus imagined. If anything, he looks more like he just faced another unfortunate death in one of those games he is so fond of.

Seeing his confusion, Lilia sighs. “I know you think yourself to be sneaky and all, but you really aren’t.” Oh. That stings. “You still pour too much magic into your teleportation spell. We who are familiar with it can sense it from dozens of meters away.” Malleus blinks. He is not surprised that Lilia would be able to pick it up, with him having spent centuries with the Draconia family. But... We? “Sebek and I were convinced you were invested in some nighttime project with your ruin explorations. Silver thought you were seeing someone. So we made a bet.”

It is like Malleus’s very worldview is being forcibly shifted. “... You made a bet on whether I was cheating on my fiancée?”

“Look. You were always docile and obedient to your grandmother. And you do have your father’s propensity to people-please. I genuinely didn’t think you’d stomp on Maleficia’s plans like that.” Another new thing Malleus learns about his father. He decides, he will definitely pester Lilia for more stories of his parents once the shock wears off a little. “But I forgot you’re also Maleanor’s son. Of course you wouldn’t settle for some stupid arrangement. Your mother didn’t, so why would you?”

“She didn’t?” Malleus shakes his head. No, that is not what Malleus should be focusing on right now. “More importantly—are you not angry?”

Lilia pauses. He looks at Malleus with wide eyes. He shakes his head quickly. For a moment, Malleus cannot help but miss Lilia’s longer hair. It looked good on him, even if this appearance also has its charms. He supposes, he can deal with the pang of nostalgia if it means he can see Lilia wearing happiness on his face more often.

“Did you really... Oh, of course you did. Silly child! Have I not yet proved that I’d never hate you no matter what you did?” Lilia holds both of his hands now. Malleus has never felt as small as he does now in his presence. “I would give you a good scolding if you were close to your fiancée and decided to cheat either way... But as things are, I doubt you’re really hurting anyone’s feelings and it’s all a political arrangement anyway. So, really, why would I care?” Lilia huffs. “What I do care about is that your chosen mate treats you well.”

Malleus’s eyes widen. He nods, slowly, shyly. “Yes, it has taken good care of me.” His cheeks flush brightly. “I have never been left wanting for anything. Except maybe lingering memories.” Malleus cannot help but mourn all the bruises and bites he healed and the scents he carefully scrubbed off every morning in the previous months. What was the point, if Lilia and the others figured out either way? “But, I suppose, that was on me.”

Before Lilia can reply, another voice rings in Malleus’s ears. “Did something happen?”

He looks up to find Silver approaching them with Sebek in tow. He looks even more like a marshmallow with the extra coat layer, and that in turn reminds Malleus of how chubby and adorable he looked as a baby some months after he was brought in. Lilia used to call it his potato stage, which is very much accurate as well.

The contentment in Silver’s eyes is unmatched—and so is the scarlet red still coloring Sebek’s cheeks. He truly, truly wishes he could do something stupid like locking these two in a room and only letting them out after they kiss. A shame, indeed, that he is sure Lilia would not appreciate his interference.

“Yes.” Lilia makes a face. “You won the bet, boy. Congrats.”

His pout and tone makes it exceedingly clear that he did not, in fact, want to lose.

“Oh.” Silver’s expression turns complicated. One of his hands holds the coat firmly, like he is afraid it will be taken away, while the other comes to rest its fingertips right under Silver’s ear. The act is familiar enough that Malleus’s heart soothes a little. “But... Which of them?”

Malleus’s eyes widen again. So they did not do one, but multiple bets on his person...? Heh. That is certainly good to know. He perhaps he should partake in this habit, too. He is sure Kingscholar would have interesting opinions to share, as well. They could have fun together in that way too...

Truly, how foolish he was, believing he could convince himself he felt nothing for that beast of a man. His beast, Malleus’s most possessive side clamors. Perhaps not yet, but it surely will be.

“Well, he was not working on a secret project at night all these months.” Lilia sighs. “You were right on the money on that.”

“Wait!” Sebek looks between the three of them with mouth agape. “You mean Waka-sama is—”

“Yes, Sebek. He has been going out to fuck all along.” Malleus chokes on his own spit. Sebek shrieks. Lilia roars with laughter. And Silver, who uttered such shameless words with the straightest face Malleus has ever seen, merely shrugs. “I did tell you no one sighs all day for no reason. It was love.”

“Still—must you be so shameless?!” Sebek very pointedly does not look at Silver. He rests his palm against his forehead, as if he has been doomed to fight a losing battle from the start. “And people still believe you’re pure and innocent... I’ll never get how they fall for the trap.”

“My, Silver is very sweet and kind. A really good boy,” Lilia practically sings. His smile turns wicked a moment later. “But he is my son and will be living in the castle in the future—How could I allow him to remain naive when he has such an alluring face and body? Knowledge is a very effective defense, you know? Khehehe.”

Sebek splutters. It is clear that he did not expect Lilia to defend Silver so openly... Or, perhaps, he was merely caught off-guard by the notion that someone out there might want Silver in that way. Not that Malleus can blame him. Silver was quite sheltered growing up, mostly interacting with the Zigvolt family and Malleus. It was as much for his own preference for quietude and a way to protect him—after all, there are still those who resent humans for the war four hundred years ago.

So, maybe, there is a part of Sebek that still thinks of Silver as his. His best friend, his fellow guard, his rival. His and no one else’s. Oh, Malleus cannot help but feel some strange sense of satisfaction at this development. If nothing else... The fact that Sebek might have just realized something so important and new makes it all worth it.

Silver crosses his arms. Truly, Malleus should get him new winter clothes. The marshmallow effect takes quite a lot of effectiveness from his serious face.

“Our other bet,” he says, “was about who you would take interest in, should you ever get to that point.” Oh. Malleus’s cheeks heat up again at the thought. “Sebek swore you wouldn’t like anyone at school. Father put his money on the Prefect.”

A sound choice, Malleus has to admit. He is quite fond of little Yuu in more ways than just one. He is fun and funny, clever and, quite frankly, a little pathetic. Adorable like a hatchling. Weaker and fragiler even compared to other humans.

It is the kind of fascination Malleus would have for a new magical array: it makes him want to dismantle and tear it all apart until he understands how everything comes together and figures out how to rebuild it differently, aiming for refinement and efficiency. It is not, in any way, the type of feeling he would have for a lover.

“And who did you think, Silver?” he asks.

The face Sebek makes is all Malleus needs to know that Silver’s choice is one he would never accept in a million years. Similarly, Lilia’s grin gains a somewhat menacing tone. Oh. Neither of them agree with Silver, in this case.

And as expected: “Leona Kingscholar.”

“Outrageous!” Sebek snarls at the same time.

“Silver has such a fertile imagination,” Lilia laments. “Sure, Leona is handsome and all but... Malleus? Why are you so red?” A gasp. A look of pure horror. “Wait, don’t tell me—”

To his credit, Malleus does not hide his face behind his hands. He does very much let out a keening noise that sounds much less human than he should have been capable of in this form. That is the sound of an embarrassed dragon. Embarrassed, but also so very happy...

“But why?!” Sebek sounds on the verge of a breakdown. “It disrespects you on a daily basis. It’s got no manners and puts no hard work into anything at all. And it tried to hurt you! Even if Kingscholar’s a prince, it is so...”

“You’re not wrong,” Silver says softly, “but we can’t forget that it was thanks to Kingscholar that Malleus-sama could join the Spelldrive tournament. That it’s the only one who willingly comes to Diasomnia bearing messages from the school for him. And you definitely can’t forget who it was who gave Father and Malleus-sama the scolding of their lives after Halloween.”

Malleus flinches at the sound of that last one. Right. Kingscholar was far from happy with the stunt he and Lilia played. It felt like anger at first—and especially so while Lilia was there—but as the day wore off and they still lingered in the Dark Mirror room long after the other students and teachers left Malleus realized that Kingscholar was shaking.

It was not anger. It was worry. Perhaps even despair. A notion that was further confirmed by the way Kingscholar kissed him that day, all righteous aggression, sharp canines and more feelings than Malleus still dares naming.

Don’tcha ever do that again, it had said around a growl, yet Malleus could only stare at how beautifully his blood painted Kingscholar’s lips. It was beautiful. Alluring. Downright tantalizing. And as Malleus leaned to have more, he realized that, oh, maybe he did do the right thing, after all.

If he had not made the party for the late ghosts, Kingscholar would have no reason to yell at him, and it would not have lingered long enough for everything to spiral out of control. They would not have kissed, and Malleus would not have sought it out the next day, or the next, or the next, and Kingscholar would never have extended the invitation for a meeting in its room.

So, truly, Malleus has no regrets regarding all of this. Well, for the most part, at least.

“Silver is correct.” Malleus swallows. He pointedly averts looking at anyone but Silver. “Frankly... That attitude is part of it, for me. The fact that it challenges me so openly yet is still willing to... Well, it is thrilling.”

“Like it’s trying to get your attention.” A small, knowing smile curves Silver’s lips. And Malleus is becoming increasingly and terrifyingly aware that their tastes in men might be even more alike than Malleus initially believed. “Trust me, I get it.”

There is a beat of tense, tense silence. For a moment, Malleus expects an explosion to happen. Sebek certainly looks on the verge of a nervous collapse. Malleus pities him. How many more paradigm shifts can he withstand in one short conversation?

“In any case!” Lilia claps once, and Malleus’s shoulders grow tense out of instinct. This is no usual, playful clap. It is the sign that a serious, important topic will come up. “You have been using protection, right Malleus?”

The cheerful tone in Lilia’s voice absolutely does not match the cold, cold dread Malleus feels hearing his words. His mind instantly goes back to the insufferable headache and nausea he has been feeling all week, the lack of appetite and the sense of wrongness over how empty his bed feels.

Oh.

To use Little Shroud’s words: he fucked around, and now he shall find out.

***

In Malleus’s weak defense, he was not aware that this was possible.

Dragons are only capable of producing eggs upon reaching a certain stage of maturity. That stage is signaled by the onset of a heat cycle, which is then followed by a rut cycle some years later. It is how they know they are ready to procreate if need be, or engage in proper sexual activities if they so desire. Malleus had assumed he had no reason to worry, given that he never experienced his heat.

However.

“The first heat cycle functions differently,” the royal doctor explains with sweat dripping from her forehead. Malleus can only assume, the presence of Maleficia Draconia at his side is responsible for her increasing nerves. “The egg is produced first, and then the body reacts to the failure of fertilizing it on time between seven and fourteen days later. From the second cycle onward, the heat sets the moment the egg is ready to be fertilized.”

Which means, Kingscholar was quick and efficient enough in fertilizing the egg that Malleus did not even need to go through a heat. Malleus is unsure if he should laugh or cry at this development. He knew, in theory, that Kingscholar was a prime specimen, and yet...

“Many people, and even books, have an incorrect idea of how dragon eggs develop,” she continues. “Before being fertilized, it is often no bigger than a lime fruit and the body reabsorbs it for nutrients if it doesn’t get fertilized. After fertilization, it takes the carrying parent’s magic in order to further develop and grow.”

She glances to her side. A pixie fairy flies towards her with a book balanced over her head. Somehow. These little creatures are surprisingly strong. The doctor opens the book and hands it to Malleus. There is a very detailed chart on it, detailing the different stages of a dragon’s pregnancy. Malleus feels almost shocked at the realization of how little he truly knows about his own species’ reproduction from these two pages alone.

He supposes it was to be expected. After all, Malleus’s fiancée is a dragon fae as well. Although she is more closely related to longs than proper dragons, it still stands to reason that people would assume that she would do the carrying. And thus, they taught Malleus extensively about the mechanisms of ruts from the point of view of the fertilizer.

Clearly, their failure to teach him all about his body brought forth serious consequences.

He sets the book down. He does not dare look at his Grandmother out of worry of aggravating her mood. The doctor might not be able to stand the atmosphere if Maleficia’s mood worsens any more. He is not as scared now that he knows his mother, too, caused her considerable grief when it came to the choice of a mate.

And Maleanor’s choice led her to live a happy life and build a home full of love until the war came. Malleus now knows that she did not regret her choice in the least. And her sacrifice was not for the country—it was for Malleus himself. She loved him to her last moments. Malleus decided, the least he can do to honor that sacrifice is to fight for his own happiness.

“The headache, nausea and related symptoms are all related to the egg’s development.” The doctor rests her hands on her lap. The pixie comes to sit on her shoulder. Like this, Malleus can see how similar their features are. Could they be related by blood? “An egg requires love and magic to grow and hatch. And while it is in the womb, it is vital that the egg is provided with magic from both parents in order to develop healthily. Otherwise, they will overcompensate by sapping too much magic from the carrier...”

“... Which in turn results in the carrier’s physical distress.” Malleus continues where she trails off. The doctor nods, a small, proud smile on her lips. He hums, deep in thought. “So if I wish to experience a comfortable pregnancy, I need to have my mate with me.”

“Your Highness... I firmly advise against proceeding with the pregnancy if you do not have a mate by your side.” Something dark flashes in the doctor’s eyes. She has served the Draconia family and also aided in the deliveries of smaller dragon clans across different fae territories for many centuries. Malleus can only wonder what she has seen to cause that look on her face. “If my estimation is correct, you should be nearing the end of the first month. Your egg, no bigger than a lemon, already steals your appetite and makes it hard for you to function properly. What do you imagine would happen when the egg reaches the size of a jackfruit?”

Malleus shudders. That would be at least eight times as big as his current egg. Malleus can only imagine it would demand eight times more from him... Or more, if the lack of a mate by his side increases the issue exponentially rather than proportionally. That, Malleus realizes, would cause a gargantuan problem...

If he survives long enough to see the pregnancy to that point.

He swallows. Shakes his head. “The man I chose is honorable and has a strong sense of duty.” Kingscholar is a beloved leader and a figure people look up to. It acts annoyed when it comes to its family, but Malleus well knows it’ll be the first to jump to their defense. There is nothing it would not do for its dorm, its pride, and that alone is more than enough for Malleus to love it. “I am sure it will take responsibility for this.”

I hope, the words go unsaid. The idea that perhaps Malleus misjudged Kingscholar is downright terrifying. Especially because... He wants this egg. He wants to keep it no matter the price to pay. Even if it means putting his life on the line, Malleus knows he will want to try.

His selfishness truly knows no bounds.

On his side, Maleficia sighs. “Very well. I will leave you to discuss matters with your chosen mate—” And the way she utters those words makes it very clear that she is exceedingly unhappy about this situation. “—while I deal with the Jiang clan.”

“My apologies for troubling you.” He pauses, and adds: “And for not meeting your expectations.”

Maleficia exhales softly. “What expectations?” She does not look at him. “You are your mother’s son.” Her voice sounds remarkably lower: “I already lost her. I will not lose you too.”

Malleus truly is blessed... And very loved.

***

“You do know that stalling won’t make your nerves get better, right?”

Malleus lets out a very ugly, very inelegant sound. Naturally, he is perfectly aware of the truth in Lilia’s words. Still, he would greatly appreciate it if he did not call him out on it so openly. It is disconcerting. It only makes him want to flee all the more...

However, it turns out that using a teleportation spell is bad for the egg. Instead, Malleus used the mirror installed at the castle to come to Sunset Savanna. If he wishes to return home safely, he will be forced to speak to the residents of the palace and request to use their portal in their possession... Which, by default, means running into Kingscholar regardless.

He swallows. Malleus’s hands are sweating profusely. He knows Lilia can pick on how much stronger his scent became, but unlike beastmen he is not capable of picking up the subtle nuances that differentiate expressed emotions. Unlike Lilia, Malleus knows, Kingscholar would be able to pick on his anxiety... And very likely on the reason behind it, as well.

“I’m scared.” The words come out of his lips before Malleus can properly think about them. How mortifying, to lose control over his own words. Malleus bites his lip, hard to the point of blood. The taste only serves to remind him of how he felt when Kingscholar held him. He craves that feeling again. He is too scared that his situation might lead him to lose it altogether.

Lilia holds his hand. It is a small act, but it works incredibly well in making Malleus’s breathing relax.

“It’ll be fine. I promise you,” Lilia says, his voice surprisingly soft. For a moment, all Malleus can see is the Father Lilia, not the General Lilia. It is a reassuring feeling. He enjoys this version of Lilia the most. “But things can’t go well until you take the first step, you know?”

He is absolutely right.

Malleus takes in a heavy breath. He ascends the long stairs with Lilia at his side. Malleus can see the guards position on each side of the gate. Both of them are women, he realizes, and the power he can feel coming from them is not to be dismissed either. Kingscholar did not lie when it said they are heavily treasured here. It is a nice change of pace, compared to Briar Valley’s guard. Most of them are men, and they often wear hoodies and masks while on duty.

Even more pleasant is to know that Kingscholar commands these powerful forces.

A third person appears at the gate right as they reach the last step. It is another woman who wears her Sun-colored hair as a crown and dons jewelry of gold that beautifully compliment her ebony skin. She carries herself with an elegance that makes Malleus’s heart shudder. He distantly wonders if Hunt feels the same when he encounters things he deems beautiful.

Because that is what this woman is. She is beautiful, and Malleus cannot help the incredibly strong urge to kneel before her.

She smiles at them. Her canines look as sharp as Kingscholar’s. She could tear an enemy to pieces with the force of them alone.

“I couldn’t believe it when kaka told me.” Oh, even her voice sounds melodious. Alluring. A dangerous trap. “What an honor it is, to receive His Highness Malleus Draconia in the flesh.” Despite the most respectful addressing, she does not bow at all. “My name is Aisha Kingscholar, the Queen of Sunset Savanna and Leona’s older sister. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Everything instantly makes sense in Malleus’s mind. And yet, to think the queen of these lands would carry such an ease power about her... Malleus bows to her, his heart filled with nothing but utmost respect and admiration.

“My apologies for my unannounced visit.” The idea of coming uninvited and unannounced fills Malleus with a sense of revolt. It simply goes against everything he was taught growing up... But urgent matters such as this should not be subjected to petty formalities.

Queen Aisha shakes her head. Her smile is incredibly fond. “Don’t worry about it. It was a pleasant surprise to see Leona so obviously happy for a change.” She turns around, inviting them to follow her with a soft gesture. Malleus tries his best to ignore how fast his heart beats at the revelation that Kingscholar is happy about his visit. “It’s always hard to tell how it really feels about things. Leona more or less became a master at disguising its emotions... I have not seen such genuine joy in its eyes since Her Majesty’s passing.” Queen Aisha glances at Malleus from over her shoulder. “For that, you have my gratitude.”

Malleus should answer. It is the correct, polite thing to do. However, the words are stuck on his throat. The sheer happiness he feels makes it impossible for him to speak.

Lilia chuckles. “Forgive him. He’s quite emotional this time.” It is not a lie. Malleus cannot find it in himself to be annoyed at Lilia for revealing it. “Your Majesty said it sensed our presence? I did not know Leona could feel things from so far away.”

“Ah, that is because Leona is the current leader of the Sunset Warriors—and, by extension, the royal guard.” Queen Aisha guides them down stone pathways and multiple stairs. “The entire mountain is surrounded by a barrier. Its purpose is not to repel anyone, but to allow us to know exactly who, where and how many people come close to the palace. Naturally, it requires someone to be connected to the barrier in order to make the correct decisions. At the moment, that role belongs both to myself and Leona.”

To feel every presence within a mountain at all times... Malleus shudders to imagine the kind of mental strain an array of this magnitude would put on a person. He is simultaneously amazed by this woman’s willpower and even more convinced that he chose correctly. It could never have been anyone but Kingscholar.

She stops and points to another pathway descending from where they stand. It leads to a lonely, small building in the shadow of the palace. Another lion beastman is trekking his way up from that very bridge. Unlike Queen Aisha, his hair falls in wild waves that greatly resemble a lion’s mane. The orange-yellow tone reminds Malleus of the colors of sunset. The man is carrying a small boy, perhaps no older than five, with short hair of the same color.

Both of them have a rather strong resemblance to Kingscholar. Malleus immediately knows that this is the King and the Crown Prince of the savanna. He bows again. The man—Falena Kingscholar’s eyes widen when he gets closer to Malleus. It takes him a second too long to regain his composure, but when he does it is to let out a thunderous laugh that shakes the little Cheka Kingscholar awake. 

“Hey, now. No need to be so formal.” He points at that lonely little building. “You should go. Leona is waiting for you.” 

“As for you,” Queen Aisha adds, “Leona talked quite a lot about how hard an opponent the former General of the Right has been... Would you indulge me with some more tales?”

Malleus does not find it himself to question how Kingscholar knows about Lilia’s previous title. It feels natural enough to have it know about things no one else should know. It is how Kingscholar kept surprising him day after day back at school, one of many reasons why Malleus wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his days by its side… If it wants him, that is. If it accepts him and their child, their egg. 

He swallows, and does his best to push down the simmering anxiety deep inside his gut as he walks down that narrow stone path. The building itself is rectangular and hardly eye-catching. Malleus gets the distinct impression that the shadows cast over this place is not a byproduct of the position of the Sun, but rather a permanent fixture. He looks at the door, and steps into the building. 

The first thing that catches his attention is the ceiling. Looking up feels like watching a starlit sky. Malleus’s eyes narrow. He realizes, the things that resemble little stars are, in fact, thousands of tiny manastones. They differ from magestones in the sense that they cannot store blot; instead, all magic they absorb is released in the form of light. How long the process takes greatly depends on how they absorb that magic to begin with, and certain spells allow a mage to save their light for a later time, akin to a flashlight. As a night fae, Malleus’s eyesight is good enough to allow him to see the path without the aid of such tools. He certainly never thought of using manastones like this. It is almost…

“Magical, right?” 

A shiver runs down Malleus’s body. His gaze moves from the ceiling to rest on the man standing across the room. Kingscholar has always looked handsome, but seeing it in such brightly colored garments is doing things to Malleus’s heart that no doctor would deem safe. Kingscholar smiles. Its expression looks indescribably soft. Malleus is not sure if it is a trick of the light or something else altogether.

Malleus hopes it is something else. Something like affection, something like love. He purses his lips, and nods. He does not trust his voice. He could blurt something stupid. Malleus does not want to embarrass himself. He would adore to hear Kingscholar laugh, however. It does not matter that said laugh would most likely happen at his expense. He simply wants to hear it. 

“This—” Kingscholar points at the ceiling, at those thousands of little stars that look like they could have come right out of a folktale. “—is new. Fur ball’s been buggin’ me ‘bout makin’ a secret den for him. So here we are.” Now that it said it, Malleus notices a nest-like structure on one corner, and a huge bookshelf near another wall. His heart swells with affection. “But I guess you didn’t come to talk ‘bout someone else’s kitten, didja now?” 

Malleus’s attention snaps back to Kingscholar. He opens his mouth, then closes it again at the look in Kingscholar’s eyes. Oh. It knows. Somehow, without Malleus needing to say a single word, it knows. 

He swallows. His voice trembles. “Kings—”

“Leona,” it interrupts him with a growl. It crosses its arms, forces its body to relax. It exhales. A heavy, pained sound. “... You’re carryin’ my kitten. No use keepin’ the pretense anymore.” 

Right. Kingscholar—Leona asked it so many times, before. The least Malleus can do is make its wish come true. 

“... Leona,” he tries again, and shudders at the sound of his mate’s name on his tongue. It is even sweeter than he thought. Sweet… And gentle like the man itself. “I only found out yesterday.” Malleus does not dare look Leona in the eye. “How—”

“How did I know?” Leona does not quite smile, but it has clearly relaxed some. Malleus’s heart aches at the thought that this change could so easily be due to his calling Leona’s name. If he had known... Would he have given in earlier? “Big sis must’ve told you ‘bout the barrier.”

“She did,” Malleus confirms easily. “She is beautiful.” Not as beautiful as Leona is in his eyes, but that is something no one else needs to know.

“She is.” This time, Leona truly smiles. “Thing is, I can feel who comes in and comes out, and I can track ‘em in emergencies. But trackin’ who’s already in demands a conscious effort.” Oh. That makes much more sense. Malleus cannot help but feel relieved that this position is not quite as demanding from Leona as he initially thought. “I felt three presences when you arrived. It couldn’t be loud boy—” And Sebek would have howled if he were here. “—or Silver—” With reason, Malleus must add. “—as they’re always together. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t some serious shit, and your scent changed again. A kitten’s the only thing that makes sense.”

It is a quite sound explanation. Malleus swallows and hugs himself. He thinks of the King’s reaction upon seeing him. Could he, too, smell this presumed change in his scent? If he did, Malleus is absolutely certain that Queen Aisha could smell it as well. And while that explains the overt friendliness, it also... He is not sure what to make of his feelings.

“I did not know my body was… Ready, for something like this. Not yet,” he explains. “There is a time window between the production of an egg and the onset of the first heat... You fertilized my egg before the heat could take over.”

Leona nods slowly. It takes a step forward. Malleus subconsciously takes in a deeper breath. Indeed, his nose is too weak to pick up on the subtleties of scents. He cannot sense emotions, or physical state. But he can smell Leona—musk, rosemary, sandalwood and something citric underneath—and that alone makes Malleus happier than he could have expected.

His entire body trembles. Malleus parts his lips, but nothing comes out. This is so strange. Malleus is... He should have more control over his emotions. And yet... And yet.

“You did miss me out there.” And the sheer awe in Leona’s voice makes him want to strike something with lightning.

How could it have doubts after everything? How could it doubt Malleus’s... But then he remembers, it is all his own fault. Malleus was the one constantly trying to cover up his feelings. It is not Leona’s fault that he was not open about them to begin with. It had all the reasons in the world to doubt. And Malleus... He should be grateful that Leona is not sending him away from its home.

He bites his lip. His eyes do not meet Leona’s. Malleus nods.

Malleus truly has no idea what he should expect, and so he is completely caught off-guard by Leona’s reaction. That hand of its, rough and callused from years of Spelldrive playing, pulls Malleus close. Its body is shorter than Malleus, yet its warmth envelops Malleus whole. Leona’s arms hold him tight, close, and its body is shaking.

He feels small. Small, and safe, and so very loved.

“Leona,” he calls, voice low and trembling around the edges, “this child...”

“Our kitten.” Oh. Malleus feels very, very weak for this possessive side of Leona. “We can figure the official shit later, but I ain’t leavin’ you alone, mpenzi.”

Malleus shivers. That word again. "What does that mean?"

Leona smiles. "It means love."

Oh. So all this time... Malleus's breath hitches. He pulls Leona into a kiss. Slow, deep, and full of unbridled affection. Leona loves him. And that... That is all Malleus needs to know everything will be alright again.

***

Leona Kingscholar becomes Leona Draconia before the last of snow melts from Briar Valley.

The wedding is a much joyous occasion, and most of it is due to Leona’s admittedly petty demands. It refused to hold it in the palace of Sunset Savanna, contrary to its brother’s wishes. It also said in no uncertain terms that it would rather die than marry in the gloomy halls of Black Scale Castle, much to Maleficia’s dismay and Lilia’s delight. Rather than a royal pompous affair, Leona only settles down when all involved parties give it free reign over the preparations.

And so they ended up in the Mirror Chamber of Night Raven College, dressed in the most traditional ceremonial robes provided by the school, reciting their vows to the Dark Mirror itself under the watchful gazes of their families and hundreds of classmates.

It was quite the unique choice, to say the least. One that Sebek most ardently inquired after once the true festivities began. Leona’s answer is one that Malleus will never forget.

“He wanted to wear those clothes so much, so why not let him have a happy memory of them?”

It is needless to say, Malleus doubts it is possible to love anyone more than he loves this lion of his.

Thanks to the combined effort and understanding of the teachers—as well as some pressure from Maleficia—Malleus is allowed quite a number of concessions over the course of his pregnancy. He is not required to attend any of Vargas’s classes anymore, and Crewel makes him work on theory rather than practical assignments for the remainder of the year. He is explicitly allowed to spend his nights at Savanaclaw, as well, leaving Lilia to handle any nightly incidents at Diasomnia.

That is perhaps the one change Malleus appreciates the most. He makes a den out of Leona’s room and a proper nest out of its bed. Every night, Leona gives their egg some of its magic, and that nearly always leads to some form of touching, which in turn leads Malleus into a frenzy of pleasure. Leona is rough as it has always been, yet Malleus can tell it is careful about his belly.

It seems, the fact that he is pregnant with Leona’s child is the decisive factor in how Savanaclaw sees him. No matter when or where, Malleus knows he can count on students donned in golden and brown uniforms to aid him as needed. Even Bucchi, who previously struggled to get within a five-meter radius of him without shaking to the core, seems not scared of him anymore. He is the one who insists on throwing a baby shower—although, Malleus supposes the shower was supposed to be metaphorical, for the students panic when it rains in Savanaclaw.

In Malleus’s feeble defense, he did not intend to make it rain. He was simply too happy over the amount of love his family was receiving and the emotions overflew.

Leona’s delight upon hearing his mumbled apologies is another sight that will forever live in Malleus’s memory.

It takes until the height of summer for Malleus to be able to hold his egg in his arms. It is beautiful, colored black with gold sprinkled all over. It reminds Malleus of glittering treasures... And grains of sand scattered in the air.

That is the ultimate proof that this egg is as much Leona’s as it is Malleus’s. Their child. Their greatest treasure.

“You should start choosing names!” Lilia says one rather hot summer day, hair dripping from his dive into Savanaclaw’s pool.

Silver and Sebek are talking with Bucchi and Howl across the hall—if Malleus can call such an open space a hall, that is. Sebek is hovering much closer to Silver than usual, and Silver leans into his presence. It is all Malleus needs to know they will undoubtedly sort out their own everything while Malleus is away for his internship at the savanna.

As for Leona, it is lying by Malleus’s side, curled up into a ball as the feline it really is. Its arms hold their egg close. Oh, and what a huge egg it is. It is nearly a full meter tall, big enough to hide all of Lilia’s torso whenever he holds it.

It seems, it is much bigger than Malleus’s own egg had been. He wants to believe the amount of love and care he was provided throughout the pregnancy is the reason behind the egg’s size. And he will make sure that their kitten knows all about this as they grow up.

He smiles at Lilia. There is a smugness there that cannot be hidden. “We already did.” And, oh, how pleased he is at the surprise on Lilia’s face. “Malachi for a boy. And—” His gaze falls on his sleeping mate again. “—Malia for a girl.” With the Lia of Lilia, Leona had said.

There is a beat of silence.

“... Malia?” Lilia’s voice sounds uncharacteristically strained. Malleus looks at him. The tears catch him off-guard. “Did your grandmother approve this?”

“We need not her approval.” Malleus’s voice is resolute. “I want my child to know they are loved no matter what. And you are the one who loved me enough to allow me to hatch in the first place.”

It feels right. Malleus will not change his mind about the name.

Thankfully, he does not need to.

A dragon’s egg can take anywhere from one to three years to hatch. The more love and magic the parents can provide during that time period, the faster they will hatch. Their egg hatches on the last day of their enrollment at Night Raven College. The graduating students leave the school one by one through the Dark Mirror before the orientation of the new first years can begin.

How amusing it is that their child took the event as an invitation to the world.

The first crack on the shell appeared as Malleus tried to console a desolate Sebek over the prospect of going a full year without Malleus nor Lilia around. The sound of it caught Malleus’s attention immediately, as did the roar Leona let out at the realization of what was happening.

A clawed paw pushes through the shell on the top. A rather furry ear appears near the bottom. Malleus’s heart skips several dangerous beats when he finally sees who is inside the egg... Both of them.

“Is that even possible?!” he gasps, taking in one very small winged lion in his arms. A lioness, he corrects himself. This one is a girl. Malia.

“Well,” Lilia murmurs, and he watches the twins with fascination. “Now it is.”

“We have a problem, Mal,” Leona says. Whatever the problem is, Leona sounds rather happy about it. “This one is a girl too.”

It holds their kitten with utmost care. Both of them have their eyes closed. Crusted over, he recalls Leona explaining it once. Lion beastmen also do not open their eyes in the first days of their lives. It is only natural that their daughters would be the same.

They did not prepare to have two girls, however. They did not think they could have twins at all to begin with... And yet, somehow, Malleus knows the perfect name.

“Zuri. Zuri Draconia.”

Zuri like Zuri Kingscholar. Zuri like Leona’s mother. The name of the one person who made Leona show genuine happiness before its family before Malleus.

There is a pause. Leona chuckles, a rather strained sound. Malleus realizes... This is the first time he sees it cry. “I love you, y’know that, right?”

Malleus smiles.

He knows.