#lore drabble

Soft rapping at the door tore Moon's attention from his papers. He rose, immediately moving to the door. Without hesitation, he threw it open. Sun stood in the downpour, dripping and looking worse for wear. His cloak was singed at the edges. The two stared at each other a moment. Moon released a slow breath.

"The star?"

"I have it," Sun nodded. 

“Thank heavens,” Moon sighed, rubbing at his wounded arm, “come in.” Moon stepped aside, permitting Sun entry to the tower. Sun entered, one arm tucked into his cloak. 

“How are you fairing?” Sun looked at Moon, worried. The lunar god’s arm rested in a sling. Both of them were exhausted.

“He got me pretty good,” Moon admitted, “but I’ll live. Is the star damaged? What happened after the sun rose?”

“The star wasn’t damaged,” Sun shook his head, “...but I... dropped it.” 

“You what?” Moon’s mouth fell open a moment. “You... but you said you had it. You do have it. Right?” The whole room shook with the force of Moon’s anxieties. The storm outside raged, thunder booming. 

A soft whimper emitted from beneath Sun’s cloak. The glow of Sun’s rays dimmed. 

“Moon, I know you’re upset, but please... try to remain calm. They’re quite frightened,” Sun said quietly. Moon stood taller. 

“They? What have you done with my star, Sun?” Moon’s agitation only mounted. Sun sighed. He pushed aside his heavy cloak to reveal you. A tiny child, clinging tightly to Sun’s blouse and looking up at Moon with wide eyes. Moon’s rage fizzled out nearly instantly. 

“...No.” Moon put a hand over his mouth, “no, no... Sun. No. Tell me this is a joke.” Moon looked at Sun. Sun cast his gaze downward, ashamed. 

“It was when Eclipse struck me,” Sun explained, “I fell. The star fell from my grasp. This little one was just... unlucky.” Sun brushed hand over your head, ruffling your messy hair. You looked between the two gods, clueless. Everything was still sort of spinning. 

You felt utterly exhausted after... after what? You were falling? No, something fell on you? What had happened? You were playing. That much you were sure of. Where were you now? Where was your mother?

“How old are they?” Moon looked at Sun. 

“Nine.” 

“And a half,” you chirped, “nine and a half!” Moon looked down at you. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

“I see,” he sighed, “perhaps this is for the best, actually. Eclipse believes that we’re going to bestow the star upon an adult. He won’t be looking for a child.” 

“For now,” Sun nodded, “but eventually he’ll catch on. We cannot hide this forever.” 

“Right,” Moon turned and shuffled further into the tower, towards the dining room. “Come.” Sun followed after Moon. 

Furniture shifted about on its own in the dining room. A wooden high chair slid across the floor and up to the small dining table. Sun carefully set you into it. 

“What do you propose we do?” Sun looked at Moon anxiously. “We can’t return this child home. Eclipse might find them.” 

“I’m aware,” Moon shook his head, “we’re not returning them. You will have to break the news to their parents.” Moon sorted through the cabinets a moment before moving into the kitchen.

“So... what? We keep them? Moon, I’m not prepared to be a father, not with Eclipse on my heels at every turn.” Sun followed after Moon. Moon stood at the stove, already stirring at a pot over a flame. The lunar god looked over at Sun.

“I’m aware,” Moon nodded, “your job is too demanding, anyway. You’d scarcely have the time.” Moon turned back to his stirring. 

“...Moon, you can’t be planning to adopt them.” Sun looked at Moon, “right after losing Emily?” 

“This isn’t about Emily,” Moon hissed. “And I certainly can adopt them.” He fetched a small mug and began filling it with warm milk. 

“No, no you can’t.” Sun crossed his arms, “you’re not thinking this through. Things are different now. Pluto isn’t here. Eclipse is your enemy as much as he is mine. We are both terribly busy picking up the slack. You don’t have the time for a child.” 

“I’ll make time,” Moon insisted, “you’ve no idea how serious this is, Sun. Your mistake has just cost that child everything. They cannot go home, not ever. We will have to watch them for the rest of their life... And that may be much, much longer than the average human’s.” 

“Moon.” Sun stood taller, “this one won’t replace Emily.” Moon flinched. 

“...They don’t have to replace her- 

“Your grief is clouding your judgement,” Sun set a hand on Moon’s shoulder, “look at us. We are not fit to be parents. Not right now. Not with Eclipse out there.” 

“I know,” Moon sighed, leaning into Sun. “But what else can we do? There’s a child in the other room that needs us, Sun.” Sun patted Moon’s back. 

“...Can the star be removed?” Sun looked at Moon. 

“Not without taking the child’s life,” Moon shook his head, “...that might be our best option, truthfully. The star is an incredible burden for someone so young.” 

“We are not killing a child,” Sun shook his head. 

“Then we are back to raising a child,” Moon frowned, “Sun, let me- 

“No, you’ve just lost your daughter,” Sun shook his head, “you can’t make that kind of decision in good faith right now. I know you, Moon.” Moon sighed. 

“Then what will you do?” Moon strolled out of the dining room. He set the steaming mug in front of you. 

“Whazzat?” You pulled your thumb from your mouth to point at the mug. 

“Milk and honey,” Moon said quietly, “drink. It will help you warm up.” You blinked up at him a moment before picking up the mug and taking a sip.

“Mmm!” You kicked your little feet. Moon smiled, patting your little head. Sun quirked a brow at Moon. Sighing, the lunar god gave you some space. 

“In the morning, I’ll take them to the sun temple,” Sun sighed, looking at you. You swayed merrily, drinking your warm milk. “The temple maids can look after them. Eclipse cannot enter the temple without permission. It’s the safest place for them.” 

“You intend to let the temple raise them?” Moon frowned at Sun. 

“I’ll be able to check on them often there,” Sun shrugged, “it wouldn’t be the first time a child was raised by the temple. They also raised Aurelia, and she is a very capable young woman.” Moon sighed. 

“...I trust your judgement,” he looked long at your tiny form. You’d already finished the milk, and now you were beginning to droop in your chair. Moon took the mug. Sun carefully scooped you up. 

“Perhaps we can find a positive in all of this,” Sun mused, cradling you as you grasped onto his blouse once more. 

“What about this could be positive?” Moon glared openly at the solar god. 

“Well,” Sun started down the hall to the guest room, “it gives us plenty of time to teach them how to use the star... So they’ll be ready when the time comes.” 

“We should start small,” Moon suggested, “the star will need time to grow. The child will need to be stronger. Perhaps we could start with healing... That was what we told Eclipse the star was for. If we can keep that façade up, he may even let it be. For a time.” 

“Healing,” Sun nodded, “fitting. We could give the child some form of title in the temple.” 

“Holder of the star,” Moon said quietly, “a star fell from the heavens and blessed this child with the gift of healing.” 

“The star’s holder, then,” Sun nodded, tucking you into a bed, “a sun, a moon, and now a star...” 

“I don’t like this, Sun,” Moon sighed, looking at your sleeping form, “will they really be alright in that temple?” 

“Of course,” Sun snuffed the lantern in the room, “the temple is a kind place. They’ll be well cared for there.” 

He and Moon exited the guest room. Sun pulled the door shut. Moon nodded, following Sun back to the sitting room. Moon gathered two glasses and a bottle of wine. The two sat, staring into the crackling fire. 

“...First Pluto and now Eclipse,” Moon sighed, shaking his head. “How did things go so wrong?” 

“I wish I knew,” Sun swirled the wine in his glass. He sighed softly. 

“The night’s just begun,” Moon looked up, “and already I’m exhausted.”

“That makes two of us.” 

“Did he injure you?” Moon glanced at Sun. Sun pushed aside his cloak. Where you’d been latched onto his side, his blouse was torn. A horrible scar stretched across his torso. 

“Terribly,” Sun clicked his tongue. 

“And yet you’ve healed already?” Moon leaned forward, brow furrowed. 

“It was when the star bonded to the little one,” Sun let his cloak fall back over him, “when I picked the child up, all of my wounds healed. It was quite... jarring, truthfully. Like a jolt of energy ran through me.” 

“...Hm,” Moon sipped at his wine. “There is much we don’t know about the star. We’ll have to watch the child closely.” 

“We will,” Sun’s eyelids felt terribly heavy. 

“You should rest,” Moon collected Sun’s empty glass. 

“What about you?” 

“I’ll be fine. Miland’r is still handling the temple’s affairs right now. I just have some paperwork to attend.” Moon was already spreading a blanket over Sun. “Rest.” 

“Fine, fine... Goodnight, Moon.”