play where mummy can see you

Freddie shifted slightly on the bed, cuddling up against Ephram with Ollie snugged up behind him close and tight, and he sighed. “No, you’re right, love - it is a bit unsettling. She is. And I can’t work out exactly why.”

“I mean, she’s saying and doing all the right things - all the things I ever wanted from her; that she needs me and loves me - but then I’ll notice a look in her eyes or a twist of her lips and suddenly I’ll feel cold all over. Wounded somehow, as if I’m letting her down.” 

“I just want…” Freddie trailed off, then sighed again; deeply, wearily, painfully, “I just want to have a mum. Is that so wrong? I want to help her because I want her to love me. I want her to be proud of me - and I know how foolish that sounds, believe me.” He rolled over slightly, turning his gaze to Oliver; the little Chin already voicing his concerns and his suspicions regarding Baby; the fairy nodding his head. “I know, mate,” he murmured, “But what if it’s true? What if she really is sorry? What if she really does need me? How can I turn my back on her? She’s my mum…” 

Freddie sighed again, cuddling closer to Ephram, burying his face in his husband’s chest. “Tell me what to do, love,” he mumbled, his words muffled against Ephram’s shirt, “Tell me what you think is happening.”

“It ain’t foolish to want her to be proud of you,” Ephram said, drawing Freddie in tight. “It ain’t foolish at all. And I reckon that’s what’s made this thing double confusing, is you spent your whole life trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need your mum, that you didn’t care nothin’ bout her approval, or disapproval, or whether or not she was proud of you or wanted you or missed you. So that’s a whole heap of stuff that you suddenly gotta deal with, standing right in front of you telling you that she needs and loves you.”

Ephram kissed Freddie’s hair, still holding him there like he could keep Freddie faced away from this whole Charybdis of a mess his darling was having to confront. He couldn’t, obviously; Freddie was their prince, and Laetitia was his mother the Queen, and there were a million things that needed to be looked at. But just for the space of them on this bed together, Ephram was willing and ready to be his husband’s safe port to the exclusion of all else.

“I think,” he said slowly, highly aware of his own blind spots in the area, “your mum’s really trying. Maybe we don’t know her full reasoning yet, but she’s a fairy, and the Unseelie Queen fairy at that, so it’s safe to reckon that she’s got a more self-serving motive at hand, right?” Ephram caught Ollie’s dark, wise eyes, the little Chin giving a huff of agreement with this supposition. “But honey -- since when have you and me needed somebody to be totally pure and good and self-sacrificing to be worth having a relationship with? We know folks are more complex than that. And even though she’s your mum, with all the ideas and dreams that go with that sort’ve figure in your life, she’s a flawed person.” 

None of this would be new to Freddie; Ephram was certain his fairy had examined Laetitia’s motives and temperament and neglect from every available angle. But hearing it from somebody else was another thing altogether. 

“It might be worth giving her a chance. We’re both grown men and there’s three of us together. Her subjects seem likely to think for themselves so I don’t see em as any possible source of danger. Between you, Ollie, and me, if things go south we can handle it.” Ephram rubbed Freddie’s broad back, in a swirling motion that he’d developed to navigate his darling’s wings, feeling the muscles tight against his palm. Those words were somewhat more confident than he actually felt. In normal circumstances, the three of them were more than enough to get out of any predicaments.

Freddie watched from the bed as Ephram set to work inspecting their rooms with both his magic and his keen detective’s eye, and the fairy immediately felt a swell of love for his husband and a relaxing of the tension he carried, knowing he was being well taken care of. But when Ollie and Ephram began murmuring softly to each other over the laden table of food, Freddie spoke up, calling over, “Oi, none of that whispering, you two. I’m not so decimated that I can’t be part of the conversation too. And besides, I’m not hungry just now. I’d much rather you come and give me a cuddle instead. Both of you - before Ollie gears up to give me an earache, which I know he’s dying to do.”

“The food can wait,” Freddie said again, “Just come over here and lie down with me. I need to feel you both beside me.”

“I need to hear what you think of all this. Unvarnished, yeah? Whether you think I’ll like it or not.”

“Sorry, honey -- we wasn’t trying to exclude you.”

Ephram brought Ollie over, setting the little familiar down on the bed so he could choose where he wanted to position himself, and stretched out with his husband, taking Freddie’s hands and kissing them. “Just thought you could use a minute to collect yourself while I checked the place. It’s been a lot to take in.”

He pressed his nose to Freddie’s knuckles, lower jaw shifting to the side as he contemplated all they’d seen and heard so far. “The Queen -- your mother -- she’s impressive. And them fairies who talked to me in the throne room, they didn’t seem hostile, or like they was hiding nothin’.” Ephram almost glanced back over his shoulder at the food table, where his magic and Freddie’s were still gleaming, slowly dissipating. “Could even be that my magic picked up on the food being from the fairy-realm, not anything, y’know, actually harmful.” 

Ollie, glad to see the back of Baby, settled down in Ephram’s arms again, snuffling happily when Freddie took his husband’s free hand, the two of them, as ever, a united front, and the little Chin set about working out his feelings regarding Laetitia, knowing that Freddie would need to be spoken to as soon as they were on their own. And whilst Ephram might tread carefully, Ollie as Freddie’s familiar, would not. After all, they shared a soul - there was nothing that was taboo between them.

Freddie and Ephram did as they were bid and followed the Queen’s attendants to the suite of rooms that were to be theirs for the duration of their stay in Unseelie, and when they were finally alone, Freddie kissed Ephram’s cheek then sank wearily onto the bed, wrung out and feeling fragile. “Bloody hell,” he murmured, “I can’t believe we’re here. How are you, love? What do you think of all this? I …” the fairy prince sighed, “I’m not sure as I know up from down anymore.”

“Up from down would be a welcome start,” Ephram agreed, and although he was yearning in his bones to sit down on the bed with Freddie, to pull him down and wrap him in his arms so they could hold each other and talk, certain ingrained habits died hard: and so Ephram, in a strange place and wanting very much to protect the two people he loved most in the world even when he didn’t have a clue as to how Unseelie worked, made a circuit of the room first. Making a quick but thorough check with the aid of his magic, the green witch aspect of it working with the silver fairy dust to ferret out anything untoward.

“Lemme see if I can find us something to drink and nibble on afore I come set down with you, honey,” Ephram said to Freddie, approaching a table that was replete with covered dishes. “Looks like they provided for us here already.” As he uncovered platters of strange and wonderful-looking delicacies, though, they flared an acid green with frantic silver threading, and Ephram stared, perplexed at how he should handle this.

As soon as Ephram sat down at his feet, Ollie still clutched in his arms, Freddie felt some of the tension inside him begin to ease, and he turned back to his mother better able to give her the attention her explanations deserved.

And really, once she’d elaborated, Freddie found himself nodding along, able to understand her needs and her position, more willing than he’d been before to sacrifice a portion of his time. After all, time moved differently in the Otherworld, they could afford to give Laetitia a week and still have Ephram back in time to finish his shift. 

It was the least he could do, really, in the face of her contrition for leaving him behind all those years ago; and as she primped him, wings first and then hair, Freddie murmured, “Of course, Mummy. We’ll help however we can.”

When Baby joined Ephram though, looking for the comfort that its fairy was unwilling to provide, Ollie turned in Ephram’s grasp and let out a low growl, warning the monkey to mind its p’s and q’s. Ephram had a familiar, thank-you very much - and Ollie didn’t much care for the way that blue face eyed Freddie.

In fact, he didn’t approve of it at all. And he didn’t intend to tolerate this monkey’s nonsense, Queen Mother or not.

Baby transferred its unnerving gaze to Ollie, but didn’t otherwise budge, and Ephram just adjusted his grip on his friend, trusting the Chin to his own affairs while the witch funneled all his attention towards Freddie. Watching the way his husband sat forward a little as Laetitia fussed with him (always so susceptible to being touched affectionately, Ephram thought with a painful throb of his heart), watching as Laetitia’s appeals to Freddie’s innate need for petting, his deep-buried desire to please Mummy, struck true. 

of course, mummy, we’ll help however we can.

It wasn’t Freddie’s promising them both that put Ephram on edge -- that was a given, Freddie’s tasks were Ephram’s as well -- but the gluttonous look on Laetitia’s face. Handsome as her son’s, but with a sort of malice lingering at the sharp edges that Freddie’s rounded, open features lacked completely. He was canny, but he wasn’t that sort of capricious. Not with people who he loved and should love him.

But Laetita was speaking again, and Ephram tuned in with a jolt of guilt:

“--my good boy, my sweet clever faeling, of course you’d help Mummy! It would never occur to you to leave me stranded and floundering, would it? My Freddie.” Another round of kisses and motherly fussing as Baby clung tighter to Ephram and buried its face entirely against him, and then Laetitia rose, bringing Freddie with her.

For a moment Freddie was relieved to see his mother finally embrace Baby and cuddle her familiar close - but that was before he saw the way that it looked at him, the flash of hatred in its eyes sending a chill down his spine. He said nothing though, just watched as Laetitia’s expression eventually softened and she once again returned to petting her son, despite the monkey in her arms; wanting to feel reassured by her assertions that she would never ever want to take his life from him, only that she wished it could include herself and his people as well.

Or, at least, that was what he hoped she’d meant.

When her eyes filled with tears though, Freddie was overcome by a wave of guilt and shame - he was horrid; he was the kind of boy who made his Mummy cry - and he nodded when she said they should speak on their own, eager to rescue all concerned from the throng of loyal subjects; to have his husband and his familiar back again to lean on. “Alright,” he murmured, “You dismiss them, Mummy, and then we’ll be able to talk.”

After the constant low-key humming of wings and sounds of familiars moving around, the room that Laetitia took them to seemed to Ephram like he’d put on earmuffs. He couldn’t tell exactly if that was comforting or unsettling, so he just hung on to Ollie and hoped that his friend didn’t mind being clutched on; Ephram edged closer to Freddie, wanted to share space, bolster his husband for what had to be an intensely off-balance experience.

But one that Ephram was loathe to interrupt. And possibly not in front of the Queen of Air and Darkness, who hadn’t said anything cruel or suspicious to him yet, not yet, but who had left her baby when he was small and needed her, so desperately.

Ephram wasn’t about to let that out of his head anytime soon.

Laetitia seemed as relieved as they were, though, and she shook Baby off with a fluid shrug as she moved to embrace Freddie, he hands stroking his wings with an expertise born of wearing the same wings on her own back. She wiped her tears -- finally spilling, now -- with the back of her hand, a mannish sort of gesture that was at odds with the girlish fragility, and kissed Freddie’s cheek over and over before pulling him to sit with her on the loveseat. Without a word, Ephram reached them in a couple of long strides and sank down to sit near Freddie’s feet, pushed up against his husband’s legs, and if Laetitia minded she didn’t say it.

“It’s as I said,” the Queen began. “They’ve always held it against me, that I left. And now that there’s the opportunity to have you here, they want to see what their Prince will do, in his place as ruler. Unseelie is a divided kingdom right now, Freddie -- there’s so many fairies who want more involvement with the human world, with other supernaturals, and you with your witch, you’re -- well, you’re the perfect specimen, aren’t you?” Laetita’s voice glinted with pride and a certain mean satisfaction as she regarded Freddie, arranging his wings and then his hair. “All I need is for you to stay long enough for that. A few decrees, some social prettiness, to assure them that I’m not ... that my rule is capable of encompassing both old and new. That I’m the best choice for the Unseelie, stepping into the future.”

Freddie got to his feet when Laetitia bid him, the two of them safely ensconced in their own magical little chamber, and he returned her kiss, trying and failing at not leaning into the delicate touch of her hand at his ear - though his eyes widened in horror when he heard what she had to say. “What? Mummy, no - they’ve only just met me; you’re their Queen. They can’t possibly want me, and I can’t possibly rule them. I’ve a life - Ephram has a life - back in the human world!”

Baby moaned and once again Freddie was struck by his mother’s callousness towards her own familiar as she glared at it, stroking and petting him instead of consoling it, telling him he may not need to stay forever - and he reached out to take her hands, stilling them; meeting Laetitia’s eyes, though the intensity that burned within them frightened him a little. 

Maybe more than a little, if he were honest. “Reestablish yourself where, Mummy?” he asked firmly, “What is it that you intend to do?”

Baby leapt forward then, seemingly no longer content to stay huddled behind the throne; Laetita pulled her hands from Freddie’s grip to help hold it up as it swarmed into her arms, the familiar staring at Freddie with wide, frantic eyes rimmed with something close to hate before burying its blue face in its fairy’s neck.  

And Laetitia herself didn’t react for a moment, before her expression softened, all over, spreading like a flower pressed between book pages. “Of course,” she said, and shifted Baby in her arms so that she could pet Freddie’s chest, his tummy, like she was checking to make sure he was still breathing. “Of course you have a life, Freddie. You made one for yourself, and I’d never take that from you, I don’t expect you to leave it! I only want, my boy, my baby -- I only want you here with me. With your people.”

“Torn to pieces?!” Freddie repeated, more than a little bit horrified, “Mummy, why would you be torn to pieces? And what do you mean ‘stay’? Ephram and I have a life to get back to in Soapberry Springs - we can stay a few days at the most, but then we have to get back.” 

Freddie looked at Laetitia, stricken, then glanced down at the familiar that she’d so carelessly, brutally, tossed aside, something deep and unsettling forming, heavy, in the pit of his stomach. 

“Mummy, what aren’t you telling me?” he asked, squeezing Laetitia’s hand, searching her eyes for some sort of warmth and explanation, “Mum, just tell me what it is you expect me to do. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He looked back to the crowd of fairies surrounding Ephram and Ollie, suddenly struck with worry for his family, wondering if they were in any danger themselves, “Just tell me what you mean by ‘torn to pieces. You’re scaring me.”

Laetitia drew her fingertips down through the air and a black-bronze shimmer drew around the thrones like a curtain, the sound of the assembly instantly muted. She rose, coming over to Freddie and urging him to stand as well so she could touch his face, leaning in to press a kiss against his mouth as she solicitously tucked his hair behind one elfin ear. 

“My baby,” Laetitia said, her eyes widening, limpid behind the drape of her fairy dust, voice hushed in the enclosure she’d made for the two of them. “They want you here. They don’t want your Mummy to be Queen anymore, they haven’t forgiven me ever for leaving them, and you’re the only way they’ll stop trying to unseat me. If I left Seelie for you, then they want their Prince to rule them. They want us to prove that it was worth it.”

Baby made a moaning sound, hiding behind Laetita’s throne and peeping out at them, and Laetitia turned to shoot a glare at it until it subsided. Turning back to Freddie, she patted and fussed his collar and the embellishments on his clothes, stroking the lines of his wings, so much like her own huge magnificent appendages. “You might not need to stay forever,” Laetitia said in an urgent, rustling whisper. “You only need to be here until Mummy re-establishes herself, you can do that, yes? Be their Prince? Be what they need of you?”

Freddie smiled at the pride in his husband’s voice, eyes shining with love and happiness to belong to this incredible man - who, really, was bearing up remarkably well against the onslaught of fairy curiosity and these rather dramatic developments. The crowd of fairies hummed their approval of Ephram and Freddie’s intermingled and symbiotic magic, pleased that their new Prince was showing himself to truly belong in so many ways; curious about the power this witch seemed to emanate - and genuinely moved when Baby bestowed its own approval on the large golden man, their Queen not exactly known for her generosity.

Ollie, however, was having none of Baby’s nonsense. And after a quick word to Freddie, he hopped down off his fairy’s lap and made his way across the room to stand at his friend’s feet, paws up on Ephram’s shin, to be picked up. 

Baby, as far as Ollie was concerned, could kick rocks - and it could bloody well get down off Ephram’s shoulder. It had a fairy of its own, after all, and Ollie needed no help minding both of his charges.

The pleased hubbub of approval and wing-humming and various familiars contributing their opinions filled up the hall, which -- despite its overwhelmingness within the context -- did create a more communal feeling to it, warmth and life, a social interaction that put Ephram slightly more at ease...

...although nothing did that more than Oliver suddenly appearing at his feet, paws up in an imperious demand to be picked up. Baby tipped and jumped off with a displeased chitter, running away up to the dias as Ephram gratefully scooped Ollie into his arms, drawing comfort from both friend and fairy husband once the little Chin’s heartbeat was pressed up against him. “Thanks, chief,” Ephram murmured to Ollie, before he fielded some more questions from the crowd.

Laetitia’s monkey tried to climb into her lap but she knocked it aside and it cowered next to her throne as she leaned forward, eyes fixed on the gathering. “That went well,” she observed to Freddie. Or perhaps not to him? He comment was only loud enough for Freddie to hear it, but her blue eyes were making a calculated sweep of the hall, not looking at her child.

Baby, it seemed, was doing its level best to be comforting - something Ollie didn’t trust at all - but Laetitia barely looked at Freddie, seemingly consumed instead by this outpouring of approval from her subjects, and Freddie wasn’t sure what to do. 

Should he speak again? Or sit back down? Would that be rude? He had no idea. So instead he waited patiently for some clue from his mother - and he could have kissed her attendants when they came forward again to collect the wash of roses, turning them into a beautiful necklace. A necklace which Laetitia immediately bestowed upon her son, telling him that he had been met with high regard, before retaking her throne, and thus allowing Freddie to retake his; Baby left to its own devices, Ollie still in Freddie’s arms. 

The flurry of questions that followed though, took Freddie a bit by surprise and his eyes widened slightly as he gracefully side-stepped the query regarding his upcoming living arrangements - that was best left to Laetitia to explain - moving on to the less dicey inquiries regarding his place in the human world, and his husband, who had not gone unnoticed. 

“I’m an artist in the human world,” Freddie said, landing on the broadest definition of what he was and sticking with it, adding, “And I own a hotel,” before turning his attentions to Ephram and beaming, love shining in his eyes. 

“This witch is my husband,” he said, “Ephram Pettaline-Watts, and it means the world to me to have you meet him.” Freddie gestured at Ephram. “Stand up, darling,” he said, “Meet the Unseelie Court.”

The fairy closest to Ephram extended his hand. “We have a long and proud tradition of close work with witches,” he said, “Welcome.”

The Unseelie Court seemed satisfied enough with Freddie’s answers about his occupation, some of them about to ask follow-up questions -- but in the way of fairies, that fell to the wayside once a more immediate interest cropped up.

Namely, the witch who was his husband.

Ephram unfolded with as much quiet preposession as he could manage, hanging on to a sense of groundedness with teeth and nails -- Freddie and Ollie seemed very far away, up there on that dias -- and tried not to show how appalled he was to be the centre of attention for an entire royal hall of fairies.

His own discomfort was nothing compared to the imposter syndrome basted in fear of inadequacy that his husband had to be feeling, though, so Ephram shored up his Southern stolidness as best he could, taking the hand of the elf who (thankfully) welcomed him, citing a history of closeness between their kinds. “I’m mighty glad to hear of it,” Ephram murmured, and immediately there was a shimmer in the air around him as multiple fairies used their dust to amplify his voice so they could all hear him.

Laetitia curled her fingers around the armrests of her throne, watching keenly, not looking at Freddie as Ephram went on, “--up where we live, witch magic and fairy magic don’t, it seems, tend to intermingle so good. Between Freddie and me that’s never been the case, though, and now I know why that is.” Ephram looked over at his husband, pride filling his voice. “He’s the Prince of Air and Darkness. Your traditions held true for us, even if we didn’t know it, even if everything else said it shouldn’t.”

The sudden wave of fealty, the roses arriving at their feet, gave Freddie a preening sense of pride for a moment - he’d done it, after all; he’d done well for Mummy and made the right impression; and he’d made Oliver proud too, the little Chin congratulating him silently from his place tucked up under Freddie’s arm - but after a moment, as more beautiful roses of every colour and shade were set before them by one familiar after another, Freddie realised that he didn’t have the first clue what to do next. And the last thing he wanted now was to cause any offence - which was why he was tolerating Baby’s clinging grip on his leg in spite of Ollie’s bristling discomfort, and why he looked to Laetitia with a subtle question in his eyes, looking for a bit of guidance, before turning what he knew to be a beautiful gracious smile back on the crowd, nodding and murmuring his thanks as more blooms gathered softly on the throne room floor.

Freddie allowed himself a quick look to Ephram, still seated in the front row, blowing the most understated of kisses in his husband’s direction - there and gone again in the blink of an eye; but a necessary touchstone all the same - and he waited for Laetitia to speak again. To address this outpouring of support from her people; to give her son a better idea of how to progress.

Laetitia offered no such guidance. She remained at Freddie’s side, close to him with his hand in hers, but she was greedily watching the assembled fairies rather than catching her son’s silent plea. Baby, on the other hand, was staring up at Freddie’s face, making quiet chittering sounds, its little fingers stroking Freddie’s leg where it clung.

Fortunately, the two black-clad attendants moved forward once the parade of roses had ended; with quick, efficient movements, they gathered up the flowers and with a few slashes of fairy dust, created a necklace of pinkie-finger-length gold-stemmed roses with jewelled blooms, giving it to their Queen. With a benevolent smile, Laetitia held up the long necklace to the light for all to see, then turned and slipped it over Freddie’s head. “The mark of your people’s regard for you, my child,” she said, dark satisfaction glimmering in her eyes. Then she re-took her throne and immediately, there was a hubbub from the assembly. 

“Are you going to live here with us now?”

“What do you do in the human world?”

“Who is this witch?”

reddest stolen cherries | freddie & laetitia

Having felt Laetitia’s rebuke like a slap, like the conformation of every ugly thought he’d ever had about himself, first as a child, and then over and over again throughout his lifetime, Freddie had done his best to sit with perfect poise as his mother spoke, allowing himself only a few glances in his husband’s direction to shore up his strength as the enormity of the throng gathered in the throne room and what they represented descended. 

As Laetitia spoke, telling her story - and Freddie’s - to the assembled masses.

And when his time came to introduce himself, his mother’s whispered words echoing in his ears - Be a big boy about it; do well for Mummy - Freddie’s stomach twisted and he rose to his feet, mindful again of his poise and elegance; of the fact that his mother - and his mother’s people - were watching, searching for any signs of weakness, any hint of frailty or immaturity or ineptitude - and he gathered Ollie into his arms, knowing that a familiar was every bit as important an introduction as a fairy. He wouldn’t fail at etiquette, even if protocol was something still beyond his grasp.

“My name,” he said, wearing a charming smile, his voice a smooth clear rumble, “-is Frederick Didier Watts - Freddie - and I am my mother’s, your Laetitia’s, son.” 

“My familiar Oliver and I were raised in the human world - we thrived in the human world - and it’s only now, as adults, that we return to you, brought by my mother, your Queen, to be your Prince. And I ask that you receive us as such, despite the suddenness of our arrival.”

“Please,” he said, smiling again, “-think of me as Freddie - and I shall think of you as members of the family I was denied for so long.”

The gathered familiars -- of every size and form, it seemed, the assembled fairy audience teeming with accompanying animals -- all made a ripple of sound when Freddie stepped forward with Ollie front and centre. Ephram couldn’t help himself from glancing around at them all, distracted for a moment from the throne dias, and when he looked back he realized for the first time with a wash of unease that Baby, the golden monkey, was nowhere to be seen.

But that thought retreated as Freddie began speaking, and Ephram felt a pang of aching pride to see his husband pushing through the considerable emotional turmoil he was going through in order to address the crowd of fairies and familiars. His people. 

Ephram didn’t know anything about statecraft, but being Sheriff, he’d learned a thing or two (his predilection for taking classes and working hard at them coming into play) about effective oratory. And that was what Freddie was doing: hitting the family connection hard, repeating titles, relationships, names, and appealing to their feelings rather than through protocol. 

(...and if there were somewhat more articles of possession and claim in his speech, my, my, your, us, our, my, well ... it wasn’t surprising that Freddie was, at the moment, more than a little preoccupied with that theme. With Mummy standing there glorious and imperious having collected her baby once more.)

Laetitia, in fact, shook her magnificent wings when Freddie had made his speech, their black-and-gold spanning much of the lavish curtained backdrop of the thrones as she moved over to tenderly hold Freddie’s face and bestow a kiss to his cheek. She was still lingered there when a hawk gave a piercing shriek that echoed through the hall, its fairy rising from her seat with a rustle of her crimson-feathered wings against her tight black halo of hair.