This Was Such A Nice Read!! - Tumblr Posts
Meet the (grand)parent
Requested by @pyroxeene [first request wah!!]
Pair: Malleus & GN!Reader (no pronouns used, second person; reader is a Fae who resided in a human settlement in BV)
Summary: You're set to meet the Queen of Briar Valley, much to your pending anxiety. Isn't it fortunate that you have such a considerate partner [and 1 stressed out valet] by your side?
WC: 2.5k
There’s a sense of trepidation in the air. Anyone can see it in the way that your foot bounces ever so slightly on the ground, and how your gaze darts around the room, as though anticipating something dire to happen. With each shift in your chair and each sigh that slips past your lips, the looming sense of anxiety grows—and it’s beginning to get to the Malleus, too.
“You’ll put a hole through the floor at this rate,” he finally says, his voice unusually calm for the storm that’s currently brewing. You look over at him as he speaks, a flash of confusion on your face, and he points wordlessly at your bouncing leg. You sigh and force it to stop.
“I don’t think I’d be able to afford those repairs.”
Despite the nerves, you retain a wry sense of humor about the situation as you go back to looking around the room. It’s a lobby of sorts; a buffer between the hallway and the Queen’s Study, which sits beyond an impressive mahogany door on the far wall. With its dark red walls, wooden flooring, and impressive display of artifacts that look like they date well past your years, it almost feels like you’re in more of a museum than a palace.
Malleus sighs himself as he leans back against his seat, his chin tilting back to stare at the ceiling in thought. You glance back his way and note that his brow is furrowed, as though something is troubling him deeply. Something probably is; after all, you doubt he’s brought many partners into the Palace to meet his family.
Truthfully, you’re thankful that it’s just the Queen you’re meeting—if you had to meet all the Senate as well, you would have dug your heels into the ground outside of those palace gates and refused to budge, no matter how hard Malleus pulled on your arm. As someone who grew up in a human village rather than a Fae one, you still find it jarring just how different the two cultures are. Whereas one comment may be seen as a joke in the human village, it may be taken as a grave offense to a Fae. Because of this, your involvement with the Crown Prince feels more like walking on a tightrope in a storm than an amicable relationship.
“I could just fake sick,” you finally say, leaning towards him a little with a grimace. “If I make myself look queasy enough, the servants will probably usher me out anyway. They seem itching to do so.”
Malleus scoffs softly before looking towards you, one dark brow raising in skepticism. “She’ll know you’re faking it, and then I’ll need to justify why my partner falsified an illness to bail on our first meeting. Would you really make me go through that?”
His expression shifts to a playfully hurt one as you roll your eyes and sink back into your seat again. “No, but that doesn’t mean I’m liking this. I feel like if I move too fast someone's going to try and curse me. It’s quite jarring.”
“Well if someone curses you, I’ll simply curse them back.” Malleus reaches out to lightly pat your hand—perhaps out of comfort, perhaps out of sympathy—before withdrawing again. You miss his touch; ever since you came into the Palace, it feels like he’s been self-aware of how often he’s grabbing your hand, or touching your arm, or standing too close to you. You understand that he has an appearance to uphold, but still… It feels quite grim.
You’re both soon broken from your thoughts at the sound of the door to the Queen’s Study opening. A tall, lanky man dressed in impeccable attire steps out. He fixes you both with a look before closing the door behind him an steadily approaching. Malleus rises from his seat and you follow suit, using his actions as a guidance of your own as the man pauses before bending in a low bow.
“Your Highness, and esteemed guest. Her Majesty is presently occupied with another matter, and has sent me to share her apologies for the delay. May I get you any refreshments as you wait?”
Malleus blinks once before sitting back down which causes you to, once again, follow his actions. “Vuldar… do you know how much longer it will take?”
The man—Vuldar—straightens back up again. He looks slightly ruffled—his collar slightly askew, his brow furrowed deeply—and you're getting a sense that the man may be a bit stressed. “Her Majesty informed me it will be within the hour, although she cannot provide a specific time.”
“Then yes, bring refreshments.” Malleus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, an action you’ve come to learn he does whenever he’s feeling frustrated. Vuldar nods quickly before turning and departing from the room, leaving both of you alone once more.
“An hour…” Malleus grumbles, casting a glance to the window on your left. You can see that the clouds are parting over the Valley, giving you a clear view of the many forests and hills that surround the palace, as well as the impressive peaks of the mountains beyond. He taps his fingers restlessly on the armchair. “I apologize, dearest. I didn’t expect it to drag out like this.”
“Well, it’s hard to remain on schedule when you’re ruling a nation.” You offer him a sympathetic smile, which seems to ease him as he realizes you’re not too bothered by the wait. As he turns back to focusing on the world outside, you take a moment to carefully reflect on the situation you’re in right now.
Perhaps you can call it in over your head. Certainly, some would. Certainly, the members of the Senate would. Old money begets old money, and you’re the farthest Malleus could find from such a category. A common Fae, born to common-folk, with no affiliation to the current court or the old High Courts the Draconia’s descended from. The woven tale of your affair with one of the most powerful men in the nation was a complex one that, if it succeeded, would most likely be on-par with the likes of other forbidden loves of the ages. A Prince and a Pauper; a nation's makeshift Saint and a forgotten footnote. You can’t help but hiss between your teeth a little at the thought, which draws Malleus’ attention back your way.
“What troubles you now?” He asks, both eyebrows now raised in interest. It’s your turn to tap your fingers on your armchair in unrest.
“Are we sure this is the right idea? I mean, taking me to meet your family… are we sure we’re there just yet?” You glance his way, hoping to portray your thoughts right, only to see a calm, blank look in return.
“Are you experiencing doubt?” He asks. In a way, you are; how can one live up to a person that an entire nation practically worships? Their golden son? The hope for their future? You knew that being by his side was committing yourself to a lifetime of scrutinizing looks and whispered conversations wherever you passed. Winning both man and Fae was a battle that no one—not even the Night King’s of old—had won.
“I’m experiencing concern, not doubt,” you counter, biting your lip as you do so. Malleus hums and nods in understanding at the change of phrasing.
“Concern… yes. I suppose there is much to be concerned about.” He taps a finger to his lips before shifting to face you more directly. “Do you feel like you’re not good enough to be here? That you’re not up to par to meet the Queen?”
“Yes,” you counter, frowning. Malleus nods slowly as his eyes narrow. You can see the thoughts spinning in that mind of his and you remain quiet, allowing him to form the a coherent train before he continues.
“My father was a commoner, you know.”
It’s not a sentence you expected him to say, and it takes you aback as you look at him. Your expression must’ve spoken your thoughts quite clearly, because it makes a smile spread across his face and a chuckle escape from his lips.
“Yes, my mother raised hell in the courts when she decided he’d be the one she’d marry. According to Lilia, who goaded her on about it, there were many instances where nobles tried to buy her off, to persuade her that a future queen would not benefit from marrying a man who spent his days strumming a lyre and singing in pubs—us Fae have a weakness for musicians, you know. Even my grandmother was convinced that she was simply going through a phase that she’d get out of soon enough.”
“But she didn’t?” You ask, your own lips pulling into a grin.
“Well, I’m here, am I not? It was a hard fought battle, but my mother was more stubborn than my grandmother—a trait she inherited from my grandfather, I dare say—and she eventually outlasted everyone in the court. Their marriage was a happy one, right up until the end.” Malleus sat back again and sighed. “This is not my grandmother’s first encounter with one of her own looking to have a commoner as a partner, nor is it the court’s. If anything, I think you may be far more qualified than my father ever was for this.”
You chuckle at the image Malleus paints. His mother, squaring against her mother and an entire court, with Malleus’ father standing slightly behind her as though she was his own personal shield. You can see that Malleus inherited both her tenacity and her stubbornness—as well as his father’s musical traits. You feel his hand lightly rest on yours again, and sigh in relief.
Perhaps this will be okay, after all.
—--
Sometimes, overconfidence can only take you so far. Vuldar brings you refreshments and vanishes again. You and Malleus carry on conversation after conversation; about the ongoing of the Valley, about NRC, about what you’ve both been up to in your free time. Soon enough, the study door opens once more, and Vuldar appears again with his usual stoic look.
“Your highness, esteemed guest. If you’re ready, you may enter.”
And just like that, you feel your stomach drop once more. You look to Malleus, who offers you a light touch of reassurance on your arm, before you’re both rising and entering the Queen’s Study. It’s only when you’re in does the reality of this really start to hit you, and you don’t even register Vuldar closing the door in your wake. When Malleus drops to a low bow, you follow suit without even looking at the Queen first.
There’s a moment of drawn out silence as you stare at the carpeted floor, only your breathing and that of Malleus’ audible in the room. Finally, a calm, commanding voice speaks from somewhere in front of you.
“Rise, and be seated, both of you.”
You straighten up and follow her directions, and it’s only when you’re seated do you finally raise your gaze to look her way.
Queen Maleficia is someone that you can immediately tell is related to Malleus. They share similar electric queen eyes and dark hair—although you do see streaks of silver in hers. They have the same horns, and the same porcelain skin as well. The only telltale difference between them is that Queen Maleficia’s markings on her forehead are displayed, whereas Malleus stubbornly keeps his hidden by his bangs. When her gaze meets yours, you feel a jolt of anxiety race through you.
It feels as though she’s observing you, as well.
“Well.” She finally says, looking from you and back towards Malleus. You feel your shoulders relax as you’re unburdened from that stare. “I must apologize for the delay; as you know, the Senate can be quite… needy in their reports.”
“Lord Voss?” Malleus hums, and his grandmother cracks a small smile—an expression that seems to instantly make her more comfortable to be around.
“Lord Voss.”
“As expected. Fortunately, we didn’t mind the wait too much, did we?” Malleus looks your way, and you realize this is his method of integrating you into the conversation. You clear your throat and offer Queen Maleficia a nod.
“Not at all. The refreshments and the room were quite nice.”
Your answer seems to please her as she gives a small hum in response. “Good, good. Now, it’s to my understanding you grew up in one of the human villages in Briar Valley, yes?”
You nod slightly. “Yes; I was born in one, and I’ve lived there since. It fits me well enough that I see no reason to leave.”
“And how do you find the human villages? Are they quite adequate? Do you find that you have enough amenities to get you by?” Queen Maleficia fixes you with an interested look, and you’re beginning to feel that this isn’t just trying to learn more about you; if anything, it feels like she’s collecting information about the status of her nation. You suppose a Queen never stops her work. However, Malleus certainly does, and he politely clears his throat to interject.
“Grandmother,” he says, his voice low with a hint. He raises an eyebrow at her. “Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?”
Queen Maleficia flashes him an innocent look as she leans back in her seat. “What, dearest? I was just curious. Your partner may have a diverse perspective that I don’t get to hear too often.”
You tune in on the word choice of partner, and send Malleus a slightly wide-eyed look. For some reason, something seems significant that his Grandmother chose that versus something like ‘commoner’, or ‘friend’. Malleus seems to tune in as well as a slow, slightly satisfied grin tugs on the edge of his lips.
“Well, perhaps you can speak with my partner further about that over a meal. We just wanted to come and greet you, after all. To show you that we have arrived safe and well.”
Queen Maleficia hums again as she glances towards you. “Tell me—are you a musician, by chance? Or a bard?”
Confusion flashes through you at this. “A bard…?”
“We did not meet in a pub, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Malleus counters, pinching the bridge of his nose again. Queen Maleficia chuckles and raises a hand.
“Calm down, dear. It already happened once—I just wanted to ensure it wasn’t happening again. I will gladly join you both for dinner, if you’ll have me. It will be interesting to hear your perspective on Briar Valley from the viewpoint of someone closely affiliated with our human residents.”
She gives you a smile that’s both amicable and polite, and you find yourself relaxing further. Between that and the banter she had with Malleus, you’re coming to see that she’s not just the Queen—she’s also a grandmother, and a very sly one at that. Malleus nods politely before standing and gesturing for you to do so.
“Then we look forward to it. But please, don’t just speak about politics the entire night—you are meeting my partner, not a future advisor.”
“Oh, but the opportunity for both is always there,” Queen Maleficia counters, her grin now becoming more coy as she offers you both a wave. “I will see you tonight. For now, I must return to my… babysitting duties, it seems.”
You chuckle a little at the realization she means the Senate and, with the feeling of Malleus’ hand resting on your lower back, you depart—looking quite forward to your dinner tonight, despite everything.