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Stella had come to collect some of her dresses. She'd done it on purpose—leaving a few things behind as an excuse to keep coming by the Palace. Even she wasn't sure why she'd done it. And then...then that imp had been there—in broad daylight!—and any hope she'd had of maintaining a semblance of calm evaporated.
Blitz was a bit lost. He didn't know why Stella was there to begin with. What was more, he and Stolas hadn't even been doing anything except debating over movie options when she walked in and started screaming.
Still, he trailed after Stolas as the owl chased his soon-to-be-ex-wife into the hall. Blitz's stomach clenched when he saw Stella hone in on a plant they all damn well knew was one of Stolas' favorites, viciously kicking the pot with her heel. The pot shattered, soil and roots spilling onto the rug like blood and guts.
Judging by the sound Stolas made, it might as well have been outright gore.
Stolas' heart shattered along with the pot. He froze in his chase, his gaze slowly rising to meet Stella's. Rage and sorrow burned in the depths of bright crimson.
"Get out," he commanded, his voice firm and utterly devoid of emotion. When Stella didn't move, he took a step forward, trembling fists clenched at his sides. "Get. Out. Now," he repeated.
Stella sneered, turning her beak up at the display over a plant. "You better not be planning to join that disgusting Sin in the tabloids, Stolas!" she huffed. "Octavia and I don't deserve to suffer for your deviance!"
She slapped Stolas who, clearly having not expected it, didn't move quickly enough to avoid her talons scraping across his cheek. The next second her wrist was being crushed in an iron grip and she was forced to bend almost double. She could feel the imp's breath on her face as he growled, "Stolas told you to leave."
Stolas barely reacted to the slap, too numb to even care. He hardly felt the sting of the scratches left behind. It wasn't the first time Stella had lashed out at him without warning.
In a flash of red and black, Blitz was at his side, tail lashing with fury as he held Stella at bay. The growl of Blitz's voice drew Stolas from his numbed haze. He couldn't risk having Stella retaliate against Blitz. He wasn't protected by royal status, and Stella could easily use that to her advantage. He rested a hand on Blitz's arm.
"Don't dirty your hands with the likes of her," he stated, not even bothering to look at his soon-to-be-ex-wife. "If she fails to leave on my order, then she shall be escorted from the palace. By security." At that, he cast a stern side glare her way. He was no longer afraid of her, her threats and insults and tantrums. He had spent most of his life with it.
Blitz glanced at Stolas, eyes widening at the clear lines of black raked across the Prince's cheek. That alone almost made him ignore the warning, his own blood boiling at the sight of Stolas'.
For a moment he couldn't move. When he finally released Stella, she gasped and stumbled back. He watched her open her mouth, but she seemed to think better of it when their eyes met. He glared at her, silently daring her to give him a reason to scratch her eyes out.
In the end, she simply huffed and marched away, holding her wrist gingerly in her free hand.
Blitz counted to three and forced himself to breathe out slowly. "Let me see," he muttered, spinning around to reach up and grip Stolas' chin. He gently but firmly turned the owl's head, quietly seething as he took in the extent of the injury Stella had inflicted.
Stolas managed to hold a stoic expression as Stella left. He held it as Blitz examined his face. He held it until his eyes strayed to the wreckage of plant and pottery laying on the floor.
The large bulb, so heavy and fragile, had snapped from the stem as it hit the floor. The tiny eyes lining the side of the bulb were all shut. There was no hope of saving it. When Stolas looked at the poor thing, that was when he broke. Collapsing to his knees, he held his face in his hands and tried to bite back a sob.
Blitz took a step back in surprise when Stolas suddenly crumbled. He was scrambling forward again in an instant, though, wrapping his arms around Stolas tightly. "Fuck her," he said automatically, feeling Stolas tremble in his arms. Even he had known how much Stolas doted on that plant. It had been a regular occurrence to watch Stolas feed it raw steaks even back when their arrangement was still in place.
"She's gone now. And I'll...I'll bite her if she comes back," he vowed, knowing Stolas would only correct him if he threatened to shoot her.
Stolas was trying not to weep. Truly, he was. But he couldn't help but spill tears, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold them in. At least Stella hadn't witnessed him breaking down. At least there was that. The witch didn't deserve the satisfaction of knowing that she had hurt him. He barely heard Blitz's words, but he leaned into the comforting embrace.
"My dear Genevieve... I've had her for over a decade. I grew her from a tiny seed. She's been with me through so much, and now—" He broke off, shaking his head as more tears streaked down his cheeks, dampening his feathers. All of his work and devotion, taken from him in mere seconds.
Blitz winced at the broken explanation. He knew the plant was special, but he hadn't imagined to what extent.
"Hey, hey," he said, rubbing Stolas' back. "She had a good life because of you, and she knew it. She knew you loved her, Stols." Blitz wrapped his tail around Stolas when the owl's breathing hitched. "I'm sorry, but at least she knew." It was a small comfort, but Blitz knew it would help. Only a little, but it would.
He knew because it was what he would want to hear if he'd lost something precious. What he'd always longed to hear, from anyone.
Stolas nodded, even as he sniffled, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to stop crying.
"I did my best for her... At least...at least she went quickly," he murmured, burying his face in Blitz's shoulder. He cleared his throat, trying to scrape together some semblance of poise. "I'm...sorry that you had to see all of that. I didn't expect Stella to drop in unannounced." Oh, how he was counting the days until their divorce was finalized.
Blitz blinked at the apology. Sorry he'd seen...? There was a sickening resignation to it. He likely only heard it because he was so used to the feeling himself: accepting pain simply because it was easier. "Stolas," Blitz said, voice unnaturally calm, "How often does this happen?"
He felt Stolas go rigid in his arms and his stomach twisted. When the Prince started to pull away, he clutched at Stolas' shirt to keep him close. Blitz met Stolas' eyes, his form blurring slightly with hot, angry tears of his own. "How long has she been hurting you?"
Stolas felt like a mouse caught in a cat's claws. No escape. No way to avoid this. Blitz had a hold of him, was looking right into his eyes. Shame burned through him, and he had to look away, glancing down and off to the side desperately. He was a Prince. A Goetia. He shouldn't suffer abuse from anyone. He shouldn't allow it to happen.
But he did. In silence. Until now.
"It— It's not often," he said quietly, trying to evade giving a real answer.
Blitz saw red. He desperately wanted to throttle Stella. Now. And not even the threat of prison was enough to stop him. Actually, it wasn't even Stolas that stopped him. It was Octavia... He knew what it was to lose your mother, and he wouldn't inflict that on her. Even if Octavia's mother was a witch.
"From now on, it's 'never,'" he snarled, because everything had limits. "I swear to Satan I'll shoot her if she ever touches you again."
Stolas shook his head, his gaze snapping back to Blitz.
"No, Blitz— No. It's not worth it. I... I should learn to stand up for myself." He was, though. He had stood up for himself, that time after Ozzie's when he'd demanded the divorce. He should have learned how so much sooner. It had simply been...too easy to accept the first time that it happened. His childhood had certainly primed him for accepting physical punishment for the smallest of mistakes, after all.
Blitz started at the denial. Blood was still seeping from the scratches on Stolas' cheek. He watched droplets fly as the owl shook his head. Blitz opened his mouth, but thought better of saying anything else. He didn't want Stolas to feel worse and he didn't entirely trust himself not to give in to his anger right now. The last thing Stolas needed was to think he'd made Blitz angry, too.
"Come on," he said at last, pulling at Stolas' hands. "I don't care if it'll be healed by tomorrow, we should get that cleaned up." Having something to focus on would help them both.
Stolas stood up at Blitz's coaxing, but his gaze crept over to Genevieve.
"We should clean her up, as well," he said solemnly. "And give her a burial." As silly as it sounded, what else was he to do? He certainly wasn't going to toss her in the garbage. No, she deserved an eternal rest in the royal garden. It would also give him a sense of closure, he hoped.
Blitz didn't even miss a beat. "Fuck yeah," he agreed, leading Stolas to one of the few bathrooms he knew the location of on the first floor. He immediately began searching for first aid supplies, snatching up a washcloth to clean Stolas' face.
"We can give her a tombstone if you want," he said, talking more to distract than anything else as he broke out the disinfectant wipes. "I can't spell 'Genevive' for shit, but I can draw her," he offered, using two straps of medical tape to secure a square of gauze in place over Stolas' cheek.
Stolas found himself smiling. Faint, but a smile nonetheless.
"I can write the name, if you do the honors of the portrait," he replied. Sorrow still clung to him, but seeing Blitz's eager grin, hearing his support of an idea that anyone else would scoff at, lightened Stolas' heart. "We'll find a fitting stone in the garden, and we'll paint it. I should have a spell somewhere that will prevent the paint from fading," he stated.
Blitz snorted. "Of course you'd have a spell for that," he teased, ensuring the dressing wouldn't pull at Stolas' sensitive facial feathers. He took Stolas' hand again and led the way back out into the hall, his smile dimming a bit at the sight of the broken pot.
"I'll get a broom," he volunteered, hesitating to leave Stolas' side. "You...uh...you okay?"
Stolas looked at the broken pot, then at Blitz.
"No. But I will be," he said quietly.
While Blitz fetched the broom, Stolas knelt down next to the remains of the plant. He scooped the bulb and roots into his hands with gentle care.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "You deserved better."
Blitz hated leaving Stolas' side, but he wasn't about to let any of the staff see Stolas like this. He’d squeezed Stolas' hand a final time before slipping into the kitchen. Now, he crept back on silent feet, catching the quiet apology. Blitz scuffed his foot against the floor so Stolas wouldn't be caught by surprise and moved to begin sweeping up the dirt.
"...You know this wasn't your fault, right?" he asked quietly. He sighed when Stolas didn't reply, either to agree or argue. "It really wasn't, Stolas," he said more firmly, turning to face the owl. "None of this was your fault. None of it." Maybe it was a bit hypocritical of him to be trying so hard to drive this message home, but he didn't care. Stolas hadn't done anything more to deserve this than the fucking plant had.
Stolas didn't quite know how to respond. Was it his fault? Could he have prevented this in any way? Perhaps if he'd stood up for himself more, if he'd never allowed Stella to know that she could hurt him. But that was all easier said than done.
As he gazed down at the mangled plant, his eyes widened. A thought raced through his head, striking at his heart like an electric shock. Stella liked to hurt what he loved. Some scrap of motherly instinct protected Octavia from her cruelty, but...
What if she went after Blitz? His hands started to shake, and suddenly, he found it difficult to breathe.
Blitz tossed the broom aside, dropping down to the floor beside Stolas. The owl hadn't said anything, but he clearly seemed to be having a panic attack. Blitz wrapped one arm around Stolas' shoulders, his other hand cupping the owl's unmarred cheek.
"Hey, hey, hey! Stolas! Stolas, breathe!" he said quickly. "Come on, Birdie. You gotta breathe for me."
Stolas tried, his chest heaving as he raked air into his lungs. It didn't feel like it, though. No matter how hard he tried, he still felt breathless. He left the plant remains on the floor and clutched at Blitz, not even caring when he left streaks of soil on the imp's shirt.
"No. No, no, no, I won't let her hurt you!" he panted, squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn't protect his poor plant, but he would protect Blitz. He would.
Blitz blinked, shocked into silence by the ramblings. It made their disastrous date at Ozzie's feel even more ridiculous to see Stolas coming apart at the seams like this. "She won't," he promised, wrapping his arms around Stolas. "I literally kill people for a living. She can't touch me, Stolas. I promise." He took a few deliberate deep, slow breaths, trying to guide Stolas' breathing into following his example. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay." He repeated, desperate to calm Stolas down.
Stolas knew that he needed to calm down, but his emotions were in a tangle. He dropped his head to Blitz's shoulder, drawing in breaths as long and slow as he could manage. He didn't let go of Blitz, though. His hands remained clutching at his shirt.
"I won't let her..." he repeated, a little more quietly. Just as he didn't allow those demon-obsessed humans to harm his dear Blitz.
Blitz whined, rubbing circles into Stolas' back. "I know," he said at last. "I know you won't." Maybe agreeing would help. He could only hope. They both knew he was a professional killer, but it hardly mattered right now. "I know," he repeated a few more times, trying to be soothing.
Stolas finally calmed, slowly going boneless as he leaned against Blitz.
"I'm... I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I just had a bit of a moment, there. I'll be okay." Blitz would be okay, too. His imp was skilled and cunning and resilient. Far more than someone like Stella could handle.
Blitz tightened his hold on Stolas, supporting his weight entirely. Despite how tall he was, Stolas wasn't very heavy. Hollow bones, or some shit.
"Don't apologize," he murmured, nuzzling Stolas' ruffled head feathers. "That was fucking traumatizing. You're allowed to be upset. Fuck, I'm upset and it wasn't my fucking plant!" He took a few deep breaths, consciously lowering the volume of his voice. "We'll both be okay," he sighed at last.
Stolas nodded, resting his head against Blitz's chest. "Thank you. For not mocking me for getting so upset over a plant," he said quietly. Anyone else would have. He'd almost automatically expected it from Blitz. But no, his darling understood. Truly, Blitz was so much more kind than he gave himself credit for.
Blitz frowned lightly. He'd always known Stolas' marriage wasn't exactly ideal. No one cheated if they were happy, after all. But it made his insides squirm to realize just how bad things had been for Stolas.
She'd mocked him. She'd hit him. She'd downright terrorized him. Blitz couldn't even take any pleasure in how much Stolas apparently cared about him, because the owl had launched himself into a fucking panic attack over it!
"Hey," he whispered, spines flexing in an almost instinctual protective reflex, "I might tease you, but I'd never fucking laugh at you. Besides, your plants are basically pets. Even if they weren't, it still sucks when someone trashes your shit." And he ought to know.
Stolas heaved a sigh, drawing his legs up and cuddling a little closer to Blitz. He didn't care if he was on the floor. He simply wanted comfort from his boyfriend.
"Some of them are like friends to me," he admitted. Blitz hadn't laughed yet, so maybe he wouldn't at this, either. "When I was young, I didn't have any friends. Save for you, that one special day. But aside from that, there was no one. Just my plants." It sounded so pathetic, but it was the truth.
Blitz relaxed at the admission, curling himself around Stolas as best he could in the absence of a mattress or pillows. He was gratified when Stolas seemed to meld into Blitz's frame in response.
"At least plants are alive," Blitz said at last. "I talk to my doodles sometimes. Name the horses I draw. Make up their back stories and stuff. I'm...not exactly Mr. Popular either, you know." He swallowed after he spoke. He'd never told anyone that before. Loona had caught him at it, and so had M&M, but he'd never explained what he was doing to any of them.
Stolas cocked his head, amused. "You have a creative mind," he complimented. "I wasn't aware that you liked to draw." Another new thing that he had learned about his beloved. It always excited him, learning more about Blitz. He peered at him with tentative hope in his eyes.
"Perhaps I could see some of your work, sometime?" he asked quietly.
Blitz felt his cheeks warm at the question. "It's just doodles," he muttered, running his hand up and down Stolas' back. "They're not, like...real art. Just shit I draw when I'm bored." He'd filled numerous notebooks, yes, and even occasionally drawn on the whiteboard at work, but even he knew it was just junk. Still, if Stolas wanted to see... "But I guess I could show you. If you really want," he relented, helpless against the hopeful look in Stolas' eyes, still glassy from crying.
Stolas nodded vigorously. "It is real art. Even if it's simple, it is something that you created. And if you would allow, I would love to see it," he stated. He had little artistic ability of his own. He could barely even doodle a horse. Inching closer to Blitz, he lowered his voice to a soft whisper.
"If you like, you can tell me the stories about your favorites, while you show me."
Blitz's tail twitched at the offer, betraying his sincere interest. "I...could do that," he agreed quietly. He reached into his pocket for a crumpled piece of paper he'd been working on before he left the office. He hesitated for only a moment, then pulled it out and unfolded it for Stolas.
"Um...this one's called Kaboom. She's kind of a player, you know? Bi with lots of one night stands. I'm kind of in the process of figuring out who all she's hooked up with." Blitz glanced up at Stolas shyly, his claw tracing the curly mane he'd given Kaboom.
Stolas grinned, amused that Blitz had a drawing already hidden away in his pocket. He looked at the simple horse shape with fondness. Blitz sounded so shy, a far cry from his usual boisterous overconfidence. It was strangely adorable to see him like this.
"She looks lovely. I do enjoy that mane of hers," he commented.
Blitz surprised himself with a laugh. "Yeah. It's a bitch to brush out," he said, like he'd done it himself. His brain caught up with his mouth a second too late and he turned away, shoulders hunched around his ears, face burning.
Stolas gave a titter of laughter, holding a hand to his beak. It was such a cute little detail. And Blitz looked so self-conscious about it. Stolas nuzzled his cheek against the curve of Blitz's horn.
"Oh, I could imagine," he said with a smile. "So does she brush her own mane, or does someone need to help her? With hooves, I could imagine the task being rather difficult."
Blitz rolled his eyes, even as he instinctively tipped his head back to rub his horn against Stolas in turn. "She's a horse, Stolas. Can any of your horses brush their own manes?" He huffed, hesitating before he forced himself to answer the question seriously. Stolas hadn't laughed at him so far.
"She can't afford a big fancy stable or anything, so she uses magic to do it herself. Kinda, sorta...got the idea from you." A lot of his horse OC's could use magic, now that he thought of it...
Stolas' cheeks grew warm. He looked down at Blitz, but his dear imp still wasn't meeting his gaze. It was taking so much for his darling to share all of this.
"I'm glad that I could offer inspiration. If possible, I would give her a spell for easier hair care," he said with a chuckle. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to sit in this simple, comfortable calmness that they had found together. The worst of the storm had passed, and he felt as if he could breathe again.
Blitz felt Stolas rest all of his weight against him once more and readily wrapped his arms around the owl. "...Thanks," he mumbled before pushing his face into Stolas' neck. It was a relief to sit in the comfortable silence that followed. There weren't any boiling over anxieties or shrieking ex-wives to spoil it. It was almost nice, if he forgot about how they'd gotten here.
Stolas returned the hug, resting his chin atop Blitz's head. "Thank you. For sharing something so dear to you. And...for helping to calm me. I'm not certain I would have managed as well, had you not been here," he murmured. Glancing over at the remains of his plant, he sighed. "We had best clean her up." Yes, he could always command the Palace staff to do so, but...he wanted to do this himself. It was what Genevieve deserved.
Blitz squeezed Stolas once more before letting him sit up. "We'll give her a good resting place," he promised, offering up a small smile. "And, when you're ready, if you want, we can get you a new seed. Only if you want." He knew to tread lightly. He had yet to replace the eels he'd bought for the office, after all, and he hadn't even fully bonded with them before they met their untimely end.
Stolas stared at Blitz for a moment, unblinking. "A new beginning..." he murmured. A new beginning born from something terrible. Just like what he and Blitz had after Ozzie's. "I would like that. Would you...come with me to pick it out?" he asked hopefully. Then his new plant would truly be something special.
Blitz ran a hand over the curve of his horns, glancing away self-consciously. "I mean, I don't know shit about plants, but yeah. I can pick it out with you." He suddenly shot Stolas a grin. "Hey, maybe if I do, it won't try to eat me," he couldn't help joking. The plant he was just now learning had been "Genevieve" had tried to take a bite out of him more than once.
Stolas gave an encouraging nod. "It certainly helps to be there during their development. Although..." He wiggled his brows, giving Blitz a warm look. "Perhaps you're just...extra tasty." He couldn't help but giggle, especially when Blitz rolled his eyes. That meant that his joke was very good.
Blitz shook his head, pushing himself up. He held out a hand to help Stolas up, too. "You're the only one crazy enough to think that," he fired off without thinking.
They blinked at one another, Stolas' pinpoint pupils visible for once. Pink spread across Stolas' cheeks, and Blitz knew he was sporting a deep blush of his own.
Stolas stared, mouth slightly open. He took Blitz's hand, and shifted his expression back into something more flirtatious.
"And you are the only one wild enough to date a crazy owl like me," he returned, pulling himself to his feet. He lifted Blitz's hand to his beak and placed a kiss across his knuckles. His gaze softened, becoming a touch more sincere.
"I...want to thank you for it, as silly as it sounds. You...you helped me understand that I can fight for my freedom. That I can make my own choices in life. No one has ever done that for me." He glanced down at the floor, suddenly shy.
He loved Blitz. He loved him so much.
Blitz could probably cook an egg on his face given the amount of heat coming off of it. "I did that?" he managed, raising an eyebrow and glancing away. "I don't know how but...well...you're welcome. Or something."
He let himself enjoy the warmth of Stolas' fingers cradling his own for a moment longer before pulling away to duck down for the broom once more. "Guess we better clean this up if we want to be done before midnight." Or before he said something fucking dumb.
Stolas allowed his gaze to linger for a moment, before fetching the dust pan.
"You did, my dear. You certainly did." Together, he and Blitz cleaned up the spilled dirt and gathered what they could of Genevieve. It was quick work, most of it done in reverent silence.
Once finished, they made their way to the garden, the path lit by the moon. Stars twinkled overhead, distant and beautiful as the two walked. It would have been romantic, if not for the dead plant in Stolas' hands.
"Here should do," he murmured, nodding to an empty section of dirt near an old bench where he sometimes sat and read. It would be nice, visiting the grave every so often.
Blitz looked down at the dead plant Stolas laid out on the grass, the bulb decapitated from the stem. Stolas knelt to dig a spade into the dirt and Blitz watched him with a mingled sense of grief and something much warmer. Blitz had been carrying the stone he'd hastily painted, but he laid it down beside Genevieve so he could rest a hand on Stolas’ shoulder.
Dangerous words danced on his tongue but he swallowed them back, forcing himself to watch the owl work in silence.
Stolas squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the pressure building behind them. Turning, he took Genevieve and lowered her into the dirt. No fancy box or coffin of any sort. Just bare dirt, allowing her to return to where she had once sprung.
His hands shook around the spade, the entire thing quivering over the pile of displaced dirt. Then, fingers rested over his own, steadying them. He looked up, finding the yellow glow of Blitz's gaze. There was such a gentle look in them that caused Stolas' heart to nearly skip a beat.
Together, bit by bit, he and Blitz buried the plant.