[OT3 Masterlist: Knight of Dawn x Reader x Lilia Vanrouge]
Summary: You and Silver have a heartfelt moment.
You couldn’t help but stare at Silver.
“Mother?”
“Sorry Silver, I just thought it was a bit unfair.”
“Unfair?”
“Yeah, if it wasn’t for Lilia’s blessing, you would look like a carbon copy of Dawn.”
You cupped his cheek, “I just thought it’s a bit unfair that neither mine or Leah’s, in her time, is shown on you.”
You started rambling, “Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re wonderful the way you are and precious and very loved and you’re as handsome as your fathers. It’s just-”
“But I do have a piece of you.”
Silver held your hand in his, leaning his head into your touch, “I have your courage and kindness.”
The smile he sent you then had you smiling in return, “I have your strength. I wouldn’t be who I am without you. So please, never believe otherwise.”
Tears stream down.
“You are the kindest one out of all of us.”
“I love you, Silver.” You hug him tightly.
He returns it just as tight.
Bonus:
A pair of shadows watched as mother and son had a moment.
Lilia was startled when a bouquet of flowers were placed in front of him, turning to see Malleus holding it to him. Lilia took it despite the questioning look he sent Malleus.
“Happy Mother’s Day, Lilia.”
Lilia laughed, “Shouldn’t you be giving this to your mother and YN?”
“I have already given one to mother and have one prepared for YN,” Malleus smirked, “I have also given one to father and to Dawn as well.”
A look to his side confirmed that statement, Dawn was smiling at his flowers as the birds circled him curiously.
Lilia looked at the bouquet affectionately before floating and kissing Malleus’ forehead.
“Thank you, Malleus.”
As YN and Silver joined their group, Malleus shared a look with Silver, knowing he thought the same.
Thank you for loving us. We wouldn’t be who we are today without any of you.
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Hii!! I saw Ur writing on the Dawn Knight x Lilia soulmate au and just had to ask for more of those two lovely men...!! 😕💔💔🥀🥀
I'm interested in wanting to know how'd U write a happy(?) end for them—maybe an au where the meetings between the Faes and the humans worked?? Not sure!!
In general, I'd love to have some fluff with them if you'd be so kind!! The floor, by which I mean, Ur creativity—is all urs to use and explore!! ☹️🫶🫶
Mr. Vanrouge was turning red.
Well, not turning red, exactly. More like the kind of red around the ears and cheeks after you spend too much time playing make-believe outside and your face stings from the early fall chill.
Silver knows this sensation well, especially so since his papa is always certain to sweep him up in his big, strong arms when he finally tumbles into the hallway, and press kisses to every wind-swept part of his face until Silver's breathless from giggling and warm all the way from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes.
But Mr. Vanrouge didn't just come in from the outside, and the classroom is fairly cozy, the heater along the back wall puttering away with a rhythmic hum that nearly has Silver nodding off along with it. Perhaps he was sick? Sebek did come to class the other day rather sniffly and cross if anyone pointed it out to him, though the effect of his glares were muted slightly by the crocodile pattern handkerchief that he kept sneezing into, courtesy of his grandpa.
Frowning slightly to himself, Silver hopes that Mr. Vanrouge isn't coming down with a cold. It'd be awfully sad if he couldn't take part in their read-aloud sessions for a while, they had just started his favorite book of fairytales and Mr. Vanrouge had the best voices for each of the characters! Silver's favorite was the low, growling whisper he used for the cunning villains, a voice that could hush the entire kindergarten class and rivet them to the edge of their seat, wide-eyed and breathless to hear if the valiant hero could save the day and—
"— isn't that right, Silver?"
Blinking owlishly up at his teacher, his confusion must have shone clearly on his face, but Mr. Vanrouge only laughed in that quiet, indulgent tone that Silver loved almost as much as his papa's rare smiles. It was a laugh that made you feel safe, and when he met the man's crinkled crimson eyes, there was not a shred of blame.
"Daydreaming again, hm? He has a wonderful imagination, Mr. Istvan. Here, let me show you some of his artwork that he's turned in recently."
A hand rests gentle upon Silver's back, and he smiles bashfully up at his papa, eager to showcase the drawings that he's been dutifully working on all week in anticipation of their first parent-teacher conference.
"I drew you," he murmurs, and his papa's mouth takes on that fond, crooked grin that Silver sees every time he looks into a mirror. "Mr. Vanrouge asked us what makes someone a- a hero. Papa looks like a knight when he fights fires, and he always rescues everyone."
His papa takes the piece of paper from his teacher with soft thanks, and Silver could have sworn that Mr. Vanrouge's fingers tightened minutely around the edge of the paper where their hands had brushed before releasing it with a hasty cough, that strange flush reappearing on his cheeks. He doesn't dwell on it long though when his papa tugs him close with one hand and holds Silver's drawing in the other as if it was as delicate as glass, and Silver glances up to see that Mr. Vanrouge is watching them both with a kind of expression that Silver's only seen before in photographs, the ones on his father's bedside that contain a woman who has laughing blue eyes and looks as if she'd smile down at Silver in that same, safe way that his papa and Mr. Vanrouge always do.
It's a nice expression, Silver reflects, as his papa leans forward to discuss more somber, serious things like the many uncomfortable doctor visits that Silver's had to miss class for lately, a discussion that makes his heart twist unhappily to see it drop from Mr. Vanrouge's face into an abyss of concern.
He hopes that he gets to see more of it this year.
Aym maintained a stoic expression as the group walked to the Cathedral, but apprehension was building inside his mind. Something was off. He knew there was little point in speculation before the High Priests had given their reports, but he couldn't help but feel this was the start of something big.
To his left, Baal was humming a soft melody, having seemingly forgotten about his hangover. No doubt his mind was occupied only with thoughts of his lover Leandros. Whether they were thoughts of the battlefield or the bedroom, Aym did not ever want to know.
They approached the side entrance to the Cathedral. Aym was always somewhat amazed by the sheer size of the structure. The weathered stone had survived almost five centuries of service, and stood as a reminder of an age long past. Aym pondered his own history once more. One thousand years of life. So much of it spent in service to Death, in some form or another. Much like this ancient Cathedral, servitude was all he had known. Even if he could leave, would he want to? Did he remain of his own will, or because he knew no other way…
Aym shook the thoughts away. He knew better than to leave them be, but they would have to wait. Whatever matter brought the High Priests here took precedence.
The group ascended the spiral stairs to the Cathedral’s upper floors. Many of the Cathedral's maintainers were busy scrubbing stains from the floor and walls, and various bottles were being collected. A reminder of the work Aym and his brother had waiting for them back at the house.
Narinder opened a set of double doors leading to a large room with a map of Death’s Realm sitting atop a table at the center. “Leave us” the Archbishop uttered to the servants tidying the room. Without a word, they followed Narinder's instruction.
“Now then.” Narinder motioned for Aym to close the doors. “The two of you say both Darkwood and Silk Cradle have trouble of some kind.”
“Quite so” Shamura spoke first as they approached the table. “One month ago, I received a report that a town in northern Silk Cradle had been put to the torch. I was in the midst of preparing a message instructing one of the nearby towns to investigate when another, disturbingly similar report found its way to me.”
Shamura began to circle the table. “I feared this was the start of something larger. I sent missives to numerous temples and villages instructing them to check in on their close neighbors. By the end of the week, the total number of destroyed temples and towns was eight.”
“Eight?!” Aym exclaimed. “You're certain?!”
“I would not come to you saying as such unless I was.” The spider was quite calm, but their whisper held a grave tone. “And that's just what we know for sure.”
“Man” Baal seemed even more chipper than before. “Whoever these guys are, they’ve sure been busy.” His voice shifted to a more sinister tone, a wicked smile creeping across his face. “Can’t wait to get up there and pay them back…”
“Well” Leshy interjected. “Was kinda hoping it really was a coincidence, but it looks like our troubles are related.”
Leshy approached the table. “Counted about seven villages before I decided to head out. Same shit as up north apparently. Guys that found the first one said it looked like it had been like that for a few days already.” Leshy placed his hands at the edge of the map. “We’re all thinking the same thing: Whoever’s fucking with us up north is at least working with whoever’s fucking with Darkwood. Might even be the same people.”
“Hmm…” Aym pondered the information given by the High Priests. Leshy was right. Whether it was the work of one group or several, it was clearly coordinated. But by who? “I find it unlikely that this was done by the Old Faith Remnants. They don’t have the numbers for something like this. Not since the Great Purge of 799.”
“True. But then, who could this enemy be?” Narinder spoke with concern. “Too many pieces are missing. And what is their objective? What is their plan?”
“Killing the faithful and undermining the Lady? Seems likely.” Baal chimed in.
“No.” Shamura spoke next. “This is deeper than that. They mean to strike the Capital.”
“...Explain.” Narinder said.
“Every town and temple they’ve razed sits on an important supply route to the Capital. Weapons, tools, nails and other metal supplies; all made in Silk Cradle and sent wherever they are needed, primarily south. Would I be correct in assuming those towns razed in Darkwood sit on the primary food supply line?”
Leshy gave a nod.
“Then as far as I’m concerned, this couldn’t be clearer. This enemy knows we cannot ignore such attacks. They will be waiting for us to respond in kind.”
Shamura leaned forwards, a serious expression on their face. “I believe that whatever this is started long before the villages were attacked. There are agents of this enemy watching this town. Waiting for the Crusaders to be… to… be…” Shamura suddenly started to wobble before falling backwards. Narinder moved swiftly to catch them.
“...I’m… sorry, where exactly am I?” Shamura spoke weakly.
“...Rest, sibling. You have done enough.” Narinder helped Shamura to their feet and walked them over to a chair.
“I think I know what they were going to say, though.” Aym said. “The enemy wants us to believe the Crusaders are needed elsewhere. Once they are out of the Capital, they will strike. They likely mean to kill the Archbishop, and any other high ranking members of the church.”
“...So I’m not going to Silk Cradle.” Baal seemed to deflate somewhat.
“Is that truly all you’re concerned with, brother?”
“No, you are.” Leshy said. “You have to.”
Narinder’s brow furrowed. “That is not your decision to make.”
“Right. But you’re going to agree with me, and I’ll tell you why.” A smug smile came across Leshy’s face. “Because you don’t have a choice. These schmucks are waiting for us to send reinforcements out to Silk Cradle and Darkwood. If we don’t, they’ll know we’ve figured them out and go to plan B, which we know fuck all about. So we let them think they have us. We send the Crusaders away and wait for their little assassination attempt.”
“Feign ignorance to lure them in. Clever…” Narinder smirked. “Alright. I am declaring a new Crusade. Aym.”
“Master.”
“You will take the Third through the Sixth companies to Darkwood. Baal will take the Seventh through the Tenth to Silk Cradle.”
Baal almost seemed to begin vibrating.
“The First and Second companies will remain here, but I will need to speak with their captains in private. They will be placed to foil this assassination.” Narinder leaned forward, a darkness in his eyes. “Speak of this to no one.”
“Of course.”
“Yes, master!”
“Yeah, yeah, fucker.”
“Alright. I will need to announce this to the flock, and it’s about time for the morning sermon anyhow. Leshy, can I trust you to care for Shamura until they have recovered?”
“Sure, sure. Probably wasn’t gonna head out right away anyhow. Come on, old timer.”
“I… am not that much older than you anymore.”
“Yeah, ok elder”
“Aym? Baal?” Narinder turned to the twin Bishops. “Gather your forces. You depart tomorrow.”
“Yes, master.” The twins spoke in unison. Yet, as their Master departed, Aym could feel his earlier apprehension returning. There was something more to this, he could feel it. But he could not ask the Archbishop to act on a hunch.
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Not to go off, but the entirety of The Knife of Dunwall’s/The Brigmore Witches’ chaos system is so interesting. Specifically the low chaos.
If you go low chaos, the whole game you’re trying to make up for Daud’s past mistakes (if even the Outsider says its impossible) because you’ve played the main game and while you know Daud killed the empress, you never knew the depths of it, you never knew that Daud regretted what he did, so when you finally get the chance to rectify this in some way, you do. But while you’re trying to “save” Daud you don’t even realize that you’re tearing apart the Whalers until its too late, everyone thinks you’re getting old and soft and Megan is betraying you to Delilah.
