#faedadstpm

It starts with Percy meeting Rusty, like how it always does for them. Rusty is a catalyst to what Percy will always call the start of his life, the moment he realizes maybe he can start to wash all the blood off his hands and walk away.

Percy is smart, he’s known distantly about ways out of the court for years now but he never thought it would apply to him. Mira was definitely a bit of a change in the plan, a last minute addition.

Zyblina isn’t blind, she can tell Percy is getting ready to make a break for it she’s broken enough people to know the signs of a budding rebellion. So she decides it’s time to start adding some new talent to the roster if you will, maybe it’s to guilt Percy into staying maybe it’s simply she knows she’ll need to replace him eventually, whatever her reasons this how darling little Mira gets caught in the cross fire.

Percy intended to leave Mira or not, he knows Zyblina manipulation like that back of his hand and this kid plays right into her hand. But he also doesn’t know how he could look Rusty in the eye, the sweetest man he knows, knowing he’s condemning an innocent child to repeat his fate. So he acts rashly, something to this day he still doesn’t know quite what possessed him to do so, but he as a last act of defiance takes the child with him.

Mira for all things is quite easy to convince, she doesn’t bat an eye as she puts her small hands in his as he runs. Does nothing but smile as they tread through woods owned by no one, and giggles any time the smallest pixie flits into her view. It’s in this trek out, Percy decides he’d die for this little changeling.

Rusty questions him, cause a child was not in the plans they had discussed and does complicate things. But all it takes is one sweet smile from her as he hand her his hat that she had been grabbing at, makes Rusty get it. So two becomes three, and sure life is a little more complicated and things are a bit more risky when you have to keep a child in line but all and all it works out in the end.

Mira grows up into a spit fire of a thing, or as Rusty will call her until the day he dies his little Wrymling. They’re not quite sure where she picked up the red hair, Rusty is convinced she saw the color of red dragons and liked it, Percy is sure it was some random woman they saw many towns ago. The day mira no older then the age of nine changes her eyes to match Percy’s he cries, well and truly, cause how did he go from having blood soaked so far into his skin he thought it would drown him; to having this sweet child look at him like he hung the stars for her. He’s never been and will never be a praying man, but he would sing the praises of whatever god smiled upon him the day he took her.