A/N: Yes, another BJT fic, this time based on The Season of Grace Coming out of the Void by Min Daae, an expansion (with some revisions to fit my over strict sense of timeline). If you want more notes, they're at the bottom as to not clutter the header. So, enjoy.
For the record, Lucivar and Daemon are about 17-18, AKA: old enough for Lucivar to be done with the training camps and have had his hellish experience with his first time, but not old enough to be 'adults' yet.
Lucivar was just old enough to have finished his training, just old enough to have been very hurt, and just old enough to have started to learned to fight in the way that would define him in another life. Daemon had long sense passed that point. Both were old enough to make their offering now, just on the edge of adulthood, though still on the edge. Neither had made that jump, embraced the power that was rightfully there's.
Saetan understood, he had been an adult, well past the age that most men made the offering, Andulvar had word Ebon-gray for maybe a hundred years or maybe two hundred before Saetan made his… right in the middle of his work as Witch's Consort… and then everything had changed. Saetan understood the burden, understood why his sons would wait. He also understood that maybe they simply hadn't been able to because of the tight control they'd been under.
He didn't know, he didn't ask, he simply went. He'd been a fool when he'd allowed Dorothea to flatter him into siring another child, and twice a fool when he'd seen Luthvian through her virgin night without being sure she was on a contraceptive brew. But none of his errors or follies or mistakes came close to the one he'd made years later at Daemon's birthright ceremony, when he'd walked away.
It hadn't been Tersa who had denied paternity, but Dorothea who had done it. Tersa would never. Luthvian did, but she regretted it when she was unable to care for her own son. They'd both regretted it. So many years had passed, so many things had been done to those boys. What made him do it now?
He wasn't sure. He'd sat at his desk, staring at his portrait of Cassandra, just wondering whether or not he should go and get his sons, if it would mean anything or matter at this point, as he had done so many, many times. And then a thought came to him, a still, quiet voice whispering in his ear. You have wasted years where it could have mattered. How many more will you waste?
He's always hidden behind his honor, the thing he couldn't break, but there was a grave he no longer visited under a tree that had long since died in the garden of a house that no longer existed that reminded him that sometimes honor and right had to be sacrificed for something dearer. He'd crossed a line that day, and it terrified him… but he'd crossed another line by refusing (instead of simply being unable) to protect his children, his boys.
He was not as spry as he had been when his third son had been murdered, when a place named Zuulaman still existed, but he was still just as powerful. It wouldn't take a lot… especially not if Prothvar and Andulvar were willing to help him. A black widow's web with a black jewel chip would hide them even from Dorothea and Heketah. It would be so easy… he would only kill those who stood in the way of him getting to his boys… maybe more if his temper was pushed, but that was why Andulvar and Prothvar would be there, to help him keep his mind. He didn't want another Zuulaman. He didn't want a war. He wanted his sons, and he would do anything to get them.
It was simple to get Lucivar, he was still in Pruul and Pyrthian only wore Opal and was arrogant as her race allowed. He didn't kill her. She didn't get in his way. Lucivar was in the slave stables. He quietly passed through the walls and abducted the young man. A slip of a sleeping spell kept him under and Prothvar took him to The Hall in hell to rest. The spell would last for a few days, at which point he'd move them to Kaeleer, but first he had to get Daemon.
Askavi wasn't close to Hayll, but Daemon wasn't in Hayll, he was with a far younger race. Abducting him was just as easy, if not more so. No one guarded him, secure in the knowledge that the Ring of Obedience controlled the young man who was just becoming known as The Sadist. Another sleeping, spell, stronger this time, and both Saetan and Andulvar returned to the Hall in hell.
It was the second part that was more tricky: removing the Rings of Obedience. Saetan didn't have the controlling rings, even a secondary ring would do, but he didn't have it. Being in a different realm weakened the connection. It was just enough, just enough, but he had to work fast of both of his sons would wake in terrible pain. Controlling Rings were made by Black Widows, and Saetan was one of the best, and one of the strongest ever alive. He had to create spell that mirrored the source of the controlling ring and then signaled the rings to loosen enough to come off. It wasn't easy, but it got done.
After that Saetan rested, drained far too much. He slept, something he hadn't had to do in a truly long time, and was greeted when he woke by a cup of fresh blood, courtesy of an offering to the demon dead and Andulvar's instance that he drink it before he was allowed out of bed.
"How are they?" Saetan croaked when he was finally allowed to get up and get dressed.
"Still asleep, and will be since Prothvar added power to the spells like you told him to," he said. "SaDiablo, what in hell are you going to do when they wake up?" Andulvar asked.
"Whatever I can," Saetan said.
"They're going to demand a price for this," Andulvar said, meaning the witches they'd just subverted to get his sons back. They hadn't killed anyone, which soothed Saetan's guilt over what he'd done. He couldn't get involved in another territory, but this was different. These were two children who were neglected and clearly abused who he was rescuing. If he had to he would take them in front of the council in Kaeleer and have them declare him their father legally. Luthvian would protest (she always did), but he didn't care. Tersa wouldn't protest… if they could find her. She'd disappeared so that even Saetan hadn't been able to find her.
"Franlkly, Andulvar, I don't give a shit," Saetan said eloquently, making his Eryien friend smirk.
"Good," Andulvar said. "Alright, time to move them before things go completely to Hell," he said.
"Like they didn't already, nine hundred years ago," Saetan said.
Lucivar woke first, in a room he didn't know, in a house he didn't know, in a realm he didn't even know. Considering those things, attacking Andulvar may have been the most reasonable thing he could have done. It was a good thing the (far) older Eryien had shielded, though, because Lucivar aimed for the jugular, literally. It was Andulvar's surprised yell that had Prothvar and Saetan in the room in seconds, dragging Lucivar off and back onto the bed.
Lucivar fought like hell and Prothvar had to physically lay on him and force him down with the pressure of the Red jewel he wore. He didn't stop fighting until he saw the Red dangling from Prothvar's neck. "Who are you?" he snarled.
Saetan, who's been kicked in his bad leg and was panting from the pain of it, leaned against the bed post. "Your family," he said.
"I don't have any," Lucivar snarled. "Try again."
"Would you rather I lie?" Saetan asked, knowing this probably wasn't the best way to deal with his son for the first time, but also unable to think up a fully proper response.
"I'd rather you tell, the truth," Lucivar snarled, his eyes fixed on the Haylian. "What, are you trying to use me to get to Sadi, that's not going to work," he said.
"No, I'm not doing that," Saetan said.
"Then who are you?" Lucivar asked.
"I am many things," Saetan said, figuring he might as well get this over with. "I am the High Priest of the Hourglass, I am the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, I am the High Lord of Hell, I am over 50,000 years old, which is 48,300 years too old to be wrestling like that, and I am your father."
"Oh shit," Lucivar said softly. It wasn't the last title that stuck in his mind, in fact, it was probably the first few that really got him worried. He probably didn't even hear the last one. His eyes shot to Prothvar, who was kneeling on the bed, and Andulvar who was looking annoyed at being caught off guard.
"May I also introduce Prince Andulvar Yaslana, and Prince Prothvar Yaslana," he said.
"Oh shit," Lucivar said louder, clearly not having mastered the art of not talking, or simply having realized that he'd tried to bite a chunk out of the neck of Askavi's Demon Prince.
"Now, Lucivar, if your promise not to attack any of us then I can let you up," Prothvar said. "Lucivar," he had to say again, since Lucivar clearly wasn't paying attention well enough. He nodded numbly and sat up slowly when he was finally able to.
The first thing Lucivar did was stretch his wings, then quickly retract them. He seemed wary, curious that such a natural movement didn't earn him a lash. He looked between the three faces in the room, all of them wearing their jewels. All of them far and away able to overpower him. "Where am I?"
"In the family seat, SaDiablo Hall in Dhemlan, in Kaeleer," Saetan said gently, trying not to shock the young Eryien any more than he needed to be.
"Kaeleer," Lucivar said a bit numbly.
"Yes, it exists," Prothvar said, getting it first.
"Family seat?" Lucivar asked, confused, confirming Saetan's suspicions that he really hadn't heard the first time.
"Lucivar, you are my son," Saetan said slowly, making sure that Lucivar was actually looking at him when he said it. When the words finished coming out of his mouth a strong look of distrust and hatred came over Lucivar's face. It hurt, it hurt like hell… but then, what did Saetan expect. He pushed forward. "You've been asleep for about three days. I'll have food sent up for you," he said.
"What do you want from me?" Lucivar asked.
"Right now, you just need to try and adjust. After you've eaten and once Daemon wakes up, you can go and see him," Saetan said.
Lucivar's eyebrows shot up. "Why is Daemon here?"
"Because Daemon is my son as well," he said. If possible the look of hatred only intensified. Saetan sighed heavily. "Just rest, food will arrive shortly," he said and limped to the door. He waited for the Eryiens to follow him out, and once all of them left the room he shut the door.
Daemon woke up later, but this time Saetan was in the room. He'd been sitting in a chair, rereading the same page for the fifty-seventh time when Daemon's breathing changed. "I know you're awake, Boyo" Saetan said, happy that Daemon at least hadn't tried to attack him, but he was shielded per Andulvar's orders.
Daemon's eyes opened and shifted over to where Saetan sat, and the he sat up. Daemon was still young, but Saetan could see that his son was every bit him, except crueler and colder, with not enough love and acceptance to make up for what terrible parts of the world he'd experienced. "Where am I?" Daemon asked, his voice cold, his eyes a hard yellow, sleepy, glazed, a look that Saetan only remember seeing in the mirror.
He looked up at Daemon over his glasses and then back at his page, staying calm. "You are in Kaeleer, in Dhemlan, in SaDiablo hall," he said. He saw the young man stiffen at the name, relating it to Dorothea first. He still wasn't old enough or experienced enough to have gotten rid of all of his tells.
"I didn't know Dorothea had power in Kaeleer," Daemon said, sounding bored. He accepted that Kaeleer existed quickly, simply because he needed it to get more information.
"She doesn't," Saetan said. "In fact, she doesn't have power in either Dhemlan, or in this realm at all. She also doesn't have power in Hell," he said, speaking more than he needed to because he was nervous. Lucivar had already rejected him, he didn't think Daemon was going to have any easier time accepting him.
"Then why am I here?" Daemon asked. "I assumed that if I was sold to a new owner I would be woken for it, and it would be in a territory where Dorothea had power," he said. He was still young, explaining his deductions, but he was smart too.
"You weren't sold. I'm sure Dorothea will describe it has being kidnapped, or her being robbed, but you are neither property nor kin to her," he said.
"Why am I here?" Daemon asked, a slight chill coming into the room.
"You are here because I brought you, after I went and got you from Terreille," he said. He took a breath and Daemon seemed about to ask the question again but Saetan plunged forward. "I went and got you, because you are my son," he said.
Saetan waited, but no explosion, no attack, nothing happened. Daemon barely even blinked, though his attention seemed to be focused even more on him than it was before. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Saetan Daemon SaDiablo, High Lord of Hell, Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, and your father," he said, watching Daemon closely, but again there was no reaction.
"Alright," Daemon said, and recognition was in his hard yellow eyes. Whatever spell Dorothea had put on him to make him forget was brushed away. Daemon believed him, unlike Lucivar who it was very possible did not believe him at all.
"Alright," Saetan said, setting the book he'd been holding down on the coffee table next to him.
"Is this my room?" Daemon asked.
"Yes, it is," Saetan said carefully.
"Then would you mind leaving, I would like to change," Daemon said.
Saetan was caught off guard but he stood, gripping his cane and starting to limp toward the door. "I will send someone up with food," he said, pausing at the door. "Lucivar will probably come to see you when he finds out you're awake," he said.
"Yes, he is my brother, after all," Daemon said. It seemed that he remembered a great deal.
"Yes, he is also my son," Saetan said and left.
Later Andulvar quiet filled a large glass of brandy each for him and Saetan. "How are you feeling, old son?" he asked, trying to be his normal self, but he was wary. Saetan had been very quiet. He still wasn't speaking. "I saw Lucivar sneaking out to go visit Daemon."
"Of course he would," Saetan said. "He would need to make sure that at least one thing I said was true… and that the one person he knows here is unhurt," he said, looking down at his glass but not drinking.
"How did it go with Daemon?" Andulvar asked, broaching the subject he'd been avoiding before.
"Worse," Saetan said.
"He didn't attack you, did he?" Andulvar asked.
"No, I rather wish he would have," Saetan said, finally taking a sip from his glass.
"He's very cold," Saetan said. "Cold like me, when I'm nearing my worst," he said.
"Shit," Andulvar said.
"You're starting to sound like Lucivar," Saetan said dryly.
"It can't be too bad if you're still making bad jokes," Andulvar pointed out.
"They're my sons, Andulvar, and they're very hurt boys. I knew they wouldn't just throw their arms around me and accept me… I'm just starting to realize how much of a price I will pay for the how long I waited… and how much they have paid for that time as well," Saetan said.
"Will they heal?" Andulvar asked.
"I wish they will," Saetan said and drain his glass. Andulvar refilled it.
A/N: What? More projects? Are you nuts? Completely possible! Every time I think "Oh, this won't be a long story" it turns out like The Pride. If someone knows how that one will turn out, I'd love for you to tell me. All I know is that I love my OCs, and I hate leaving Osvar and Thorian in Terreille (which means more trips to Terrielle), but I'm so happy that I'll get to use my Jhinka characters. If you're mad at me for not updating Jazen's Tale for the sake of this… well, I'll update everything more soon, I'm sure! For the record the only one I have a concrete idea of how it will end is Kermilla's Second Chance, and that one's the hardest to write, especially while Kermilla's being a whiny bitch. I can only hope I like her more later.
As for this one… well, it's based on The Season of Grace Coming out of the Void by Min Daae. I think it's one of my favorite BJT fanfics I've read that aren't purely OC based. If you really want to know, I love the fics where it's based on old courts in Terreille, or new ones, or minor characters (like Karla). All the fanfiction I need about the main cast is in the last four books (yes, there, I said it).
Anyone who's read Jazen's Tale knows that though I love Saetan maybe more than any other character in the series, I have so many problems with him and what he did, everything from how he dealt with Heketah up to the Terreille/Kaeleer war all the way up to his final death. I love him like crazy, but there are many points in the series were if he'd acted like… at all instead of moping he would have drastically changed the events of the history of the blood, or you know… not screwed Terreille over (Cause come on, could he have done this more?). The author has to bend over backwards to explain why he doesn't do some things, why there are boundaries he won't cross, or will no longer cross for his family… and yet he'll cross all of them for Jaenelle. Now, I can accept this for reasons (Saetan only being a man, Jaenelle being Jesus, etc), but it doesn't sit well with me. I really likes The Season of Grace Coming out of the Void because it addresses some of these things.
That being said, this changes so much of the series and leave a lot ambiguous, and so I really wanted to play with it. Hopefully this won't be more than five chapters, but I can easily be getting myself into something insane… I'm just saying!
Fun notes on age: one of my friends approximates that 1 normal blood year equals to 70 long lived years, which make Daemon 25(ish) when he's with Jaenelle. On the other hand, it makes him 14 and a half when he first hears Tersa's prediction. If the ratio of age is 1:50 (which the normal math would suggest) then Daemon would be 34 when he's with Jaenelle (past his 'prime' for sure), but it would make him 20 when he hears the prediction. I'm running with the theory that ageing slows over time, which means that Daemon and Lucivar are at least younger than 900 (which would make them exactly 18 by the 1:50 ration), and place them well before Tersa's prophecy.