#hurricael

Marvin glances over at him, pulling his scarf tighter up over his mouth. Ever since he was taken away from him and returned, Marvin made the decision that he no longer wanted to live shut away in their castle, but he still covers himself well when they’re out in public. Despite his determination to live his life, there is good reason for him to be afraid.

“I’m okay,” he says.

But he reaches out to brush Jackie’s shoulder with his hand anyways, his mare carrying him forward to the keep of Calista Queen.

“They say she can be cruel,” Jackie remarks, inclining his chin.

“She’s lost her son,” replies Marvin, blinking his vivid blue eyes. “I doubt your temper was very good when I was gone, either.”

“Sure... but I didn’t impale my enemies on the lawn and leave them there as a warning.”

“Hey, that’s a rumor.”

“Might be, might not.”

“If you want to be a hero - and you do - you better start focusing more on the people-saving and less on the gossip, your majesty,” scolds Marvin, turning to grin at him.

Jackie rolls his eyes and bumps their horses together as they ride. “Yeah, yeah, highness.”

Marvin laughs, his face scrunching up happily. Jackie takes a moment to gaze at him. Pride in his chest.

He’s right. He was lonely without him. Scared without him. Angry. And Marvin is his little brother, not his son, and he was an adult when he was taken, not a little boy barely old enough to speak clearly. Not like Calista’s child.

He’ll help her find him again. He promises. He will bring the Prince of the Grey Isles home.

.

Her hands shake as she pours him wine. Jackie stares at her fingers. Trembling fingers are easier to understand than expressions - especially since hers is dead.

Grief, maybe, makes her hands shake. Or fear. Or anger. Jackie doesn’t know what most people feel when they hear that their child, missing for seven years, has been spotted on the other side of the continent.

He looks at Marvin for guidance. His brother is better at understanding than he is. But Marvin is just watching Calista.

“He was barely five years old,” she says, filling his cup, too, with wine. “And tiny for his age. Tiny. There was no reason to take him. Except that he is the Crown Prince. But no one ever asked for a ransom. No messengers came to blackmail my husband. Just... gone.”

Jackie tilts his head. “Hey. You’re from our neck of the woods.”

She stops short, blinking at him.

“He means your accent,” says Marvin warmly.

“Oh.” She laughs wearily, pulling away and taking her own cup in her hand. “Oh, yes... I expect it’s mostly faded by now. I am from the West. My first husband and my daughter were as well. When he died, I remarried out here.”

“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” says Jackie.

“Oh, yes. She’s married herself now. Barren, though.”

Marvin tries not to make a face at the derision in her voice. Jackie doesn’t notice.

“Do you like the Grey Isles?” he asks.

Calista drinks from her cup, pushing thick, dark hair from her eyes, green as the valleys of their homeland. “Not so much anymore,” she whispers, spinning the crimson wine in her cup. “Bad memories.”

She tilts back and drinks like she’s been dying of thirst. Her eyes burn. She’s a very beautiful woman, Jackie thinks. He doesn’t know why she makes him feel a little out of place. Like something isn’t quite right.

“So, someone saw your son, you think?” he posits. “Tell me about that.”

Her sigh flutters the locks of her unkempt hair. “An old contact of mine often visits that part of the world and comes back here to trade in my husband’s cities. He knew Jameson. Would bring him presents from halfway around the world just to see him play with them. He sent word to me last week that he saw him.”

“How did he know it was him?”

“Said it was his spitting image, at the very least.” She closes her eyes, her fingers pressed over her miserable mouth. “A beautiful little blue and silver-eyed boy, small and fair, with brown curls like his father’s. He wouldn’t have mistaken him, I’m sure, especially with his eyes. I had... given up hope that he was alive.”

Marvin and Jackie exchange unhappy looks. Though Jackie’s been helping people find their missing loved ones for a couple years now, the truth is that that fear - that despair that they might already be dead - it’s all too often true. And one lone merchant believing that he saw a child he hasn’t seen for seven years is not excellent evidence. There are many blue and grey-eyed Gracelings in the world.

“Did he speak with Jameson?” asks Jackie evenly.

“No,” she says, shaking her head, slow. “No, he saw him from across the way. He might have followed him, but he says he was accompanied by a man cloaked in black, his skin entirely hidden, but for one green eye.”

It is here that Calista breaks.

She does not move. She does not sob. Her fingernails dig into the wood of the table and she closes her eyes, chest shaking as the tears run down, and sits in silence.

Jackie sits back, heart hurting for her. Long minutes pass as both brothers wait in respectful silence for her to regain herself.

She takes a deep breath in, emerald eyes sliding open again.

“I’m sorry all this has happened,” says Jackie. “Where was - ”

A hand on his wrist stops him. Marvin squeezes gently and shakes his head, staring at Calista.

She stares back, something in her eyes hardening. Jackie’s lost, but he doesn’t mind when he’s with Marvin. His brother knows to explain.

“My lady,” says Marvin evenly. “You’ll forgive me my presumption if I say there’s something you’re not telling us.”

Her thin red mouth purses. Her eyes glitter in the low light through stain glass.

“I want you to understand, gentleman,” she says. “That my husband could have you put down like dogs and silence anyone who remembered your names in life.”

And he has the reputation to make it convincing, too. Jackie’s heard it said that William King sometimes invites enemies to his dinners as a gesture of supposed forgiveness, only to have them killed halfway through for the entertainment of his real guests.

“Charming,” answers Marvin dryly. Jackie says nothing to the threat. He is a king in his own right, and she ought not to threaten him, but he is not like Calista’s husband and he knows that. He told Calista only that he might be able to help find her son. Outside of their home, he is all but anonymous, but it doesn’t bother him. He loves his perfect, tiny country. He loves his family and his little castle and the open fields and honest trade. No one makes him go to war. No one comes to hurt them. There is no shame in him and his parents taught him pride. Marvin, however, has always hated to see him treated as anything less than a great king. It is Jackie’s turn to put a hand on his brother’s wrist. Marvin takes a deep breath.

“So when I say that you must keep secret what I tell you,” Calista continues. “Know that I mean it. I mean it very much.”

“We just want to find your child,” says Jackie. “We just want to find Jameson.”

She looks at him for a long time. He looks at Marvin. Marvin looks back.

“There was another son,” she said. “By my first husband. A Monster.”

Jackie feels Marvin jolt beneath his palm. They both grip at each other beneath the table, breathing in time.

You’re safe, Marv. You’re safe.

I’m here, Jackie. I’m here. No one’s going to take me again.

But Jackie can tell already this isn’t a story either of them will like to hear.

“Where is he?” he asks, evenly as he can.

“Gone,” she answers, her eyes fluttering closed. “Long gone.”

“Why?” asks Marvin, voice hard.

“He was a cruel young man,” she whispers, running her hand over her face, that tremble still twitching at her fingers. “Not at first, maybe. But as the years went by... I don’t know. He became more and more difficult to control. A violent child, even to himself. He couldn’t accept his responsibilities or his place.”

Jackie doesn’t know what that means. Marvin is afraid to ask. The man who stole him away used to say much the same.

This is your duty now. Don’t be an ungrateful brat. Be a good boy and you won’t get hurt.

He tries not to shudder. He tries not to fume.

“When he was sixteen, something in him snapped,” she says. “I... we had fallen apart as he grew. But when he was young, we were close, and I - I never saw a look like that in his eyes til that day. He just... shattered.”

She looks down at her hand.

“He killed my brother that night.”

Jackie can’t stop his mouth from parting in shock. He and Marvin exchange rapid glances.

“He fled the castle. His sister tried to stop him. He attacked her too. The fact that she survived... he didn’t mean to leave her alive. But he fled and I never saw him again. Gave him up for dead. He used to talk about ending his own life in his tantrums.”

“Oh,” says Jackie. “That’s really sad.”

She laughs frailly. Soft in the red light of the glass.

“And even if he did survive his own thoughts, he would still be a Monster,” mutters Marvin. “Chances are...”

Chances are he was caught, seen for what he was, and then either killed by those who believe that Monsters are unnatural, or sold and kept like Marvin was once sold and kept.

“Well, that’s the thing,” answers Calista, once more tilting back her dark, bitter wine. “He was a Graceling too. It had only just begun to manifest for him, but his abilities were already... terrifying. Even to his own family. He could convince you of things that weren’t true just from his voice. Combined with his Monstrosity, well. If he is alive? He must be a little tyrant somewhere. He could make anyone do what he wanted them to do... including his baby brother.”

Marvin is shaking his head, looking up at Jackie with wide eyes. This was just a simple kidnapping when they came in here. Now, this is a whole web of dysfunction and magic.

“Do you believe that your oldest son might have taken the younger one?” asks Jackie quietly.

“He would have the power to do so,” says Calista frailly, picking at her lips, an anxious habit revealed as her resolve breaks down. “But I... I would never have imagined that he would take the child for any reason other than to kill him. He wasn’t loving or nurturing. I once found him torturing a squirrel he had caught. But Jasper said that Jameson looked fine. Maybe it wasn’t Absalom who took him. I don’t know anymore. I’d just like to see my son. My baby son. He was just a little boy... there was no reason to take him.”

Jackie and Marvin look at each other. Jackie’s felt the same way in his life. But he got his little brother back.

“We’ll find your kiddo if he’s out there,” he says.

“Thanks,” mumbles Calista, her hopeless eyes listing across their faces.

“If he is with the older son - Absalom - what would you want us to do?” asks Marvin.

Calista takes a long time to answer. Her gaze flickers and dulls and brightens and sharpens. Her mouth trembles. Her fingers dig into the wood of the table again. Jackie wonders if she ever leaves marks.

“It would be safest for everyone,” she whispers finally, “If Absalom was dead. The Monstrosity he was born with was unfortunate. But the monstrosity he grew to embody?”

She shakes her head. Slow, slow.

“Monster is a word which can have many meanings. Absalom. His name means peace, did you know that? My son is a monster. You should kill him if you can.”

And Jackie doesn’t know if he should call this cruel or wise.

Servants bring them food and he’s grateful for the break in the seriousness. This conversation already feels like a cannonball hit the ground between them somewhere. Marvin usually handles most of the talking for him, but he’s picking unhappily at his lamb and drinking a little too much wine. Jackie doesn’t blame him for being upset at all the talk of Monsters and kidnappings and stolen little brothers, so he carries on the conversation in his place.

Jackie thinks the rumors about Calista are probably true. She has this vicious edge to her. He doesn’t know how to describe it. But at the same time, she isn’t cold. Despite her grief, she eventually pulls herself together again, and even begins to laugh at his jokes and stories as he chatters to her. She tells him the rest of what he needs to know to start looking for her child, and then they talk about things less dour - her daughter, married and living well the next country over, how sweet of a baby Jameson was, her husband’s war down the coast. Sure, her values might be a little misguided, and she talks a lot about money and conquest, but she’s nice enough and she seems to like Jackie despite her earlier threats.

Everyone seems calmer by the time they’re done eating and Jackie’s stomach is full. He’s excited to get going. Off on another adventure. And maybe it’s true, he thinks. Maybe her son really is alive. He wants to bring Jameson home to Calista.

“Anything else, Marv?” asks Jackie, as the workers return to start cleaning up around them.

“Just need to make sure we know what the little boy looks like,” his brother answers, making sure his blue hair is brushed back from his face. “Then I think we’re ready.”

“Oh, yes. Come with me. There was a painting done when he was about three.”

The halls of the castle are enormous. Jackie spins around as he walks, gazing at the faraway ceiling and the rows of stairs he can see above him. Clear light filters through impossibly big windows. He doesn’t know how they don’t shatter with the weight of the stone around him. Marvin reaches out to take his hand and stop him spinning, giving him a small smile and a squeeze of his hand - their “not in public, buddy” squeeze. Jackie grins back and tries to stop, swinging their hands as they walk instead.

And then Marvin’s grip goes loose, and his fingers fall away.

“My beautiful little son,” murmurs Calista, reaching up to brush her fingers over the bottom of the painting. “There was no reason to take him... my Jameson.”

It is a cute little painting of a cute little boy with brown curls, just like Calista said. He has round cheeks and long eyelashes and a look on his face like he’s wondering when he can get down from this stool. The left eye is grey, the right one blue. His father is standing above him, one hand held tight on the little boy’s shoulder.

It’s a cute painting, yes. But Jackie doesn’t know why it’s making Marvin shake like a horse in a fire. He grips his brother’s arm, alarmed. Calista is just watching the painting.

He can hear Marvin breathing too fast.

“Thank you for showing us, your majesty,” says Jackie, hoping his voice sounds normal.

Calista just nods. She’s lost in the painting.

“Is there anything else we should know?”

“No,” she whispers. “I think that’s all.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow, then.”

He waits, but there’s no more words from the Queen. Marvin is pressed against his arm, panting. Jackie decides this is as good an exit as they’re going to get.

“Goodbye, Calista. I hope we can bring your son back to you.”

And he leads his little brother from the halls of that great castle as fast as they can go.

.

Marvin begins to cry as soon as they’re alone. Hard and earnest sobbing. Tears streaking down his beautiful face. He tears his covering away and weeps into the side of his mare, stroking her hot pelt and gripping at her stiff horse hair.

Jackie stands beside him, completely lost. He rests his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Don’t have to cry, Marvy,” he says weakly. “Can I do something to make it better?”

Marvin squeezes his hand, but he can’t stop crying long enough to get words out. Jackie wraps himself around him and hugs him, his own mouth beginning to tremble. He knows he gets too upset when he sees other people upset, but it’s not something he can help, especially when it’s his Marv. It’s been his duty his whole life to keep his Monster safe, and now -

“That’s the boy who saved me from the slavetraders!” Marvin all but screams, beating his fist against Jackie’s chest. “That’s the little boy who sent you the letter, who told you where I was! That’s JJ!”

Jackie stares at him, mouth parted.

He remembers that letter.

How long had he been looking for Marvin? Months? How long had the loss of his brother been eating him alive, spending every moment wondering where he was, who had him, if he was alive, if he was being made to do things he never wanted to do just to be allowed to keep breathing? He remembers. Coming home on his horse. Chase running out to meet him, holding the message in his hand, shouting and sobbing.

Dear King Marvin’s Brother who owns a lot of sheep and ponies,

I am sending you this letter through my nice friend Aja who is very good at going places. She looks scary, but you don’t have to be scared, she is nice.

I live up very far North right near the bay and a town called Frostview. It is okay up here. I live in a nice keep, even though it gets kind of cold. I like to ride my pony and one day I was riding my pony and I saw a Monster in another castle. He was a very sad Monster so I was curious even though my brother says being curious is dangerous. The Monster said he was sad because he is away from his brothers and can’t go home because they don’t know where he is. He said his name is Marvin and his brother lives in a little corner of the West Kingdom and is a friendly king there and that there are lots of sheep and he has a baby brother and a cousin too and that you have ponies like my pony. He said I couldn’t send a letter there because the Grey Isles are at war with the West Kingdom, but Aja is very sneaky and is nice to me because she wants to marry my big brother even though he says marriage is the worst. So if you can I think you should come get Marvin because he is a nice Monster but he’s very sad and sometimes he cries when he talks about his brothers because he wants to go home and he doesn’t like the man who makes him stay in the castle. My brother says people shouldn’t make other people do things they don’t want to do, except sometimes adults make you go to bed even if you’re not tired and you’re ten now and too old for bedtime.

I hope you get this letter and that your sheep are all okay. I will be sad if Marvin goes away because he is my friend, but he is really unhappy so please come get him and kill the man in the other castle who is mean. I would be really sad if someone took me away from my brother too, but if you are like him you will come get your little brother because brothers protect each other and are nice and kill people who are mean to them with knives or arrows or sometimes poison. Please don’t send a letter back or I will be in trouble for getting into other people’s business and my brother will not let me eat sugar buns for a week and might make us go sailing again, which is not fun because there are rats in my bed sometimes. Thank you.

Yours,

JJ

He had it memorized from the first time he read it. Like it was burned into the folds of his brain. He’d left the same hour.

He got Marvin back because of that letter. Marvin was set free because of that letter.

“But this is good news,” whispers Jackie, grabbing Marvin’s sleeve, beginning to smile. “This - it means he’s alive!”

“It means he was kidnapped just like me!” cries Marvin. “And I was too fucking focused on my own misery to see that this little boy was in just as much trouble as I was! I just left him there, Jackie! We just left!”

“We didn’t have any reason to think he was in trouble.”

“I knew his brother was fucking shady,” sobs Marvin. “He would say the strangest things. Things little kids shouldn’t know. I should have - I never even - JJ, JJ, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, fuck, fuck.”

“Marv, he sounded like he loved his brother,” murmurs Jackie. “Maybe it’s not what it seems.”

“That Graceling Monster,” chokes Marvin. “You heard Calista. He can make people believe things that aren’t true.”

Jackie feels his heart drop. “Oh, no.”

“He can make that kid love him. He can force him to do anything he wants him to do. JJ told me his brother had his voicebox cut out! What if he did that on purpose just to make him easier to control! I never even thought about it! He stole him away from his parents and now he’s just waiting until he’s old enough to be his puppet king. Don’t you see?”

“That’s horrible,” says Jackie. “No one could do that to their little brother.”

“Not everyone is as good as you are, Jackie.” Marvin wipes bitterly at his eyes. “I know you can’t imagine it. But I’ve known evil men more intimately than I’d wish in a million years, and the things they’re capable of... fuck. Fuck. I never even thought about him... I never even looked at the signs... I should have known.”

Jackie sighs deeply, bumping his head against Marvin’s. “This isn’t your fault, Marv. No one could have expected you to be protecting that little kid while you were a prisoner. Don’t focus on the past. You know what we should focus on?”

“What?” sniffles Marvin.

“Making sure that kid is safe now,” says Jackie earnestly, giving his shoulder a little shake. “Bringing him home to his mother. He saved you - and me too, Marv. This is our chance to pay him back for that.”

Marvin’s sobs are dying down as he lifts his head. “You really think we can find him?”

“I know we can,” vows Jackie, hugging him close. “I know it. And then I can finally thank that little boy properly for saving you. For bringing you home to me.”

A small smile shakes its way onto Marvin’s mouth. Jackie’s heart rises again, more determined than ever.

“I would like to see him again,” says Marvin. “My little savior.”

“Then let’s go see him again,” replies Jackie, beaming. There’s a new determination in his heart, fiercer than ever before. He remembers the heat in his belly when Marvin was the one he was saving. Now he can save Marvin’s hero too. The little boy who lives with his brother and loved sugar buns and ponies and, when no one else was there to love him, who loved Marvin too.

“Okay,” whispers Marvin, smiling back at him as he wipes the last of the tears away from his eyes. “Okay. Let’s go get JJ. Let’s bring him home.”

This time, Marvin will look after his little friend right. And if that means killing this Graceling Monster and taking Jameson from his body, well - Marvin will do what needs to be done.

.

Anti remembers his mother.

She was not a Monster like him. They had the same green eyes. The same full cheeks. The same even mouth. But she was not a Monster like him.

He wakes up from a nightmare about her. His little brother is cradled against his chest. Anti reaches down to touch him. To run his hand over a face that had been bruised when he came to take him away. To pat his back. To rub his arm. To feel his little brother’s safe, secure body against him, and know that, for every place where she would have watched him get hurt and said nothing, there is a day where Anti has kept him safe instead.

No, his mother wasn’t a Monster like him. His sister wasn’t. His uncle wasn’t. His suitors weren’t. His father wasn’t, and neither was JJ’s. There was no colorful hair. No burning eyes. No beauty to captivate, not the way that Anti’s does. They were not Monsters like him.