Work Text:
When he was summoned to the front door of Blight Manor late one dark and stormy night by an incessantly clangorous pounding, Alador was not expecting to see his estranged cousin on the other side.
Usually there’d be servants to fetch this sort of thing for him, but, expecting a quiet night to himself for once, he’d dismissed the hired help earlier that evening. His wife had rushed off to some Oracle contest he couldn’t recall the name of, and she’d taken their two-year-old children with her to play the part of a happy family. Alador could never tolerate the butlers and maids Odalia insisted clutter the manor, so he’d wasted no time in sending them on their way and claiming his house solely for himself. Despite this, as he marched down its long halls to the tune of symphonious banging from the front of the estate, he found himself sorely missing their presence. Perhaps he could look into some Abomination golem, able to be summoned and deconstructed as needs demanded?
When he opened that front door, ready to furiously give the troublemaker on the other end a piece of his mind, he was instead struck dumb by the audacious presence of The Owl Lady herself. The last time Alador had seen Edalyn Clawthorne, she’d crashed an Emperor’s Coven Gala and indirectly ruined three profitable business deals. The time before that might’ve been some family event, if she’d bothered to make an appearance before getting chased off by her mother. Truthfully, Alador couldn’t recall. He would hardly say the two of them were on bad terms, but he would certainly never expect an unannounced house call. He was moderately surprised Edalyn even knew where he lived.
Nonetheless, here she was, with bright yellow eyes and a sparkling gold fang in her cocky, self-sure smirk. “Hello, Alador!” She greeted cheerily. “May I come in?”
That was the first sign Alador caught that something was truly, awfully wrong; the Edalyn he knew would’ve never asked for something as courteous as permission before barging her way into wherever she saw fit. Taking a half step back, Alador did another glance over his cousin’s appearance. Her hair was a filthy mess, even by her standards, and her clothes were soaked, ragged, and clearly put together in a hurry. Deep rings of exhaustion circled her eyes, and her smile seemed strained at the ends. “You look awful, Edalyn,” Alador noted, eyes darting out to the deluge pouring down outside. “You’re not on the run from the law tonight, are you?”
Edalyn threw her head back and groaned, cocky smirk sinking away into something slightly more familiar. “No, you big bore. I just need to call in a favor.”
Alador hummed, reaching up to rub his chin. “I was unaware I currently owed you any favors,” he mumbled, mind scrambling back. He usually tried to keep good track of who he was indebted to and why, but Edalyn had a habit of throwing wrenches into such carefully maintained systems. A favor owed to the Owl Lady could be a dangerous thing, after all. Whether or not the favor was true, however, Edalyn seemed especially desperate tonight, so he figured the least he could do was hear her out. “You are very lucky Odalia isn’t home tonight,” he finally grumbled, stepping aside fully to allow her in.
“Not luck if it's by design,” she answered easily, not even bothering to wipe her filthy boots on the welcome mat as she entered. She hoisted a previously unnoticed covered basket up from her side as she went, and Alador eyed it cautiously.
“‘By design?’” he wondered, blinking away from the mud tracks across the floor. “Then you were behind that letter from the… uh…”
“‘The Benevolent Institute of Tonics, Charms, and Hexes?’” Edalyn laughed, setting the basket down on the front table. “Yeah! It was a pain in the ass to throw together on such short notice - probably not my best work - but I knew it was too juicy a deal for her to look into too closely. Hopefully it’ll be another half-hour before she realizes the whole thing was a scam, and I can be outta here by then. Not that her being here would make things too difficult, but I figured it’d probably be better to catch you alone for this.”
“Catch me alone for what ?” Alador asked again, eyes falling back to the basket. “What exactly are you…”
And then Alador trailed off as Edalyn threw the blanket off the basket, for inside the basket was a baby. A pale skinned, brown haired, soundly asleep baby. Alador waited for an alternate explanation to appear - for the baby to morph into some wild magic abomination, for it to unveil itself as another one of Edalyn’s dastardly pranks, anything - but it never came. “That’s a baby,” he remarked at last, when it became sufficiently obvious that the baby would continue to remain a baby.
“Nothing gets past you, does it?” Edalyn snorted. “Alador, meet… well, meet baby.”
Alador stared at the baby uncomprehendingly. The baby, to its credit, stayed soundly asleep. How it had slept through the storm and all of Edalyn’s racket, Alador had no idea - in his experience, babies were usually loud and indignant. He hoped Edalyn hadn’t dosed it with one of her sleeping potions. “Please tell me that’s your baby, at least.”
In an instant, all of Edalyn’s good humor was gone. “No,” she snapped, almost defensively, only to deflate a second later. “Or, well- fuck. Yes, it is, but it can’t be. I can’t-” Edalyn groaned again, running a hand down her face. “I’m fucking this up,” she mumbled to herself, before turning to face Alador fully and seriously. “I need you to take her.”
Alador blinked back at her, mind struggling to catch up. He’d never seen Edalyn this off-center. “You need me to take her. As in…?”
Edalyn waved her hand through the air emphatically. “Adopt her, raise her, claim her as your own, the whole shebang.”
It took another moment for Alador to process that. “Now wait a minute,” he stumbled out at last, “I’ll need more than that.”
Edalyn took a deep breath, running a hand through her filthy hair. “I assumed so,” she said waspishly, as if part of her really was hoping he’d just take the baby and let her go. “Ask your questions.”
“This baby is yours? Biologically, I mean. You didn’t snatch her from some other cradle?
“No,” Edalyn said firmly, looking away from his eyes. “She’s mine.”
“Yours, and…?”
“The other parent isn’t in the picture. Leave them out of it.”
‘ Them ,’ Alador noted. He had a pretty good theory as to who this ‘them’ was, and why Edalyn would be cagey about the topic. “When did… how did…?”
Edalyn gave him an unimpressed look. “...are you seriously asking me how babies are made?”
Alador flushed red. “I’m asking about the logistics of it, yes,” he corrected. “Last I checked, you were - are - an active criminal. You can’t possibly expect me to believe-”
“Believe it or not, we’re here,” Eda brushed aside. “But I’m glad you see why I need your help.”
Alador could feel a headache brewing. “Why me, then? Why bring her here?”
Edalyn snorted again, this time with no humor. “I can’t raise a child myself, Alador,” she said to him, voice grave. “You know that, you said it yourself. I doubt I have a maternal bone in my body, and my life is far too dangerous for that besides. I can’t- there’s no other parent available to take her, and I can hardly foist her off onto my sister or my parents either. I can drop her off at some orphanage, sure, but it would only be a matter of time before somebody connects her to the Owl Lady, and then she’s used as leverage or worse. But you already have two kids, and more than enough resources to support a third. This can work.”
“And how am I supposed to pitch this to Odalia?” Alador needled. “You just sent her off chasing some lousy scam like a fool, and now you expect her to leap at the opportunity to raise your child?”
Edalyn scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Please. Being able to pass the offspring of the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles off as her own? To claim any grand future achievements as part of her personal legacy? The Odalia I know would kill for such an opportunity.”
Alador frowned in turn, reexamining the baby. As far as babies went, this one was relatively unremarkable. Especially ugly, perhaps, but a baby nonetheless. It certainly didn’t strike him as all-powerful or otherwise destined for glorious purpose. Aside from the tufts of auburn-brown hair already sprouting from the top of its bald head, it looked rather similar to Alador’s pre-existing children. He supposed Clawthorne genetics won out over Blights and Whispers in equal measure.
Still, loath as he was to admit it, he knew Edalyn had the right of it. Alador knew Odalia was obsessed with power and legacy. She was an ambitious witch, and often enough her family was just another tool for her machinations. Alador had made his peace with it long ago - they were partners in this, after all. Already, however, he could see her expectations for the twins mounting, tied as they were to such prominent bloodlines. If she knew the infamous Owl Lady was offering her child to them on all but a silver platter, no strings attached? She’d take that deal in a bilebeat.
“I don’t care how you explain the logistics of it,” Edalyn continued, forcing Alador’s train of thought along. “Say you brewed her in some pot or grew her in a pickle jar. Market some phony invention off of it, make millions. Just leave any mention of me out of it. No secret envelope to be opened, no notations on medical records, nothing.”
Alador hummed. “And Raine as well?”
Edalyn froze like all the ice atop the Knee had suddenly fallen on her, and Alador knew he’d guessed right. He studied her closely, carefully. For the first time since she alighted to his doorstep, Alador saw a sliver of regret cross her face. No, not regret… grief. Mourning for past decisions erred, perhaps? Or a future she knew she couldn’t have? Then it was gone, and her face hardened. “That’s right,” she confirmed, almost casually. “Leave Raine out of it too. If all goes to plan, the two will never know of the other’s existence, and she’ll never know of mine.”
For a moment, Alador let those words hang in the air, using them as a measure of Edalyn’s conviction. Whatever moment of weakness had come over her was gone now. She truly meant this. “This is wrong, Edalyn,” he said quietly at last. “Raine should know.”
“No.” Some emotion leaked through her voice, cold and hard. Determination? Rage? Alador couldn’t tell. “Raine left me for good reasons - valid reasons. If they knew about her, they would want to come back, and they would hate me for it. Then I would hate myself for doing that to them, and we’d both take it out on her - it would be miserable.”
“You could always drop her on their doorstep instead,” Alador suggested, more to make the point than any real argument. “Leave the basket and a note, and vanish off into the night. You don’t have to be involved with the two of them at all.”
“And burden them with a child they never asked for?” Edalyn spat. “Upend their life and then run away again? No, that’s all I ever do. I’m doing something different this time.”
‘ Right ,’ Alador thought humorlessly, ‘now you’re just upending my life instead. ’ He didn’t say that, though; he knew it wasn’t really the same thing. The fact of the matter was, the Blights would be much more able to take on an extra child, and likely more willing as well. Raine could continue to advance the coven ladder, Eda would resume her criminal activities, and the baby would be better provided for than either of them could support. And Alador did, apparently, owe Edalyn that favor.
“She’ll need a name,” Alador suggested.
“Yes, most babies have those,” Edalyn remarked flippantly.
Alador waited another moment to see if she had anything to add to that, but she stayed quiet. “Did you want to give her a name?” he asked more directly.
Edalyn almost startled at that question. “No,” she said after a moment, “and don’t tell me what you decide. The less I know, the better. Name her after yourself, for all I care. Ashleigh, Avery, Amity - they’ll all fit the nice little naming scheme you’ve got going already.”
Alador rolled that over in his head for a minute or two, considering it. Edalyn shifted her weight from one leg to the other anxiously, but didn’t interject to interrupt his thoughts again. “You know you won’t be able to take this back?” He asked to confirm one last time. “Once Odalia warms up to the idea, this baby will be as good as her’s. If this is something you’re going to regret-”
“It won’t be.” Once again, Alador noted the certainty in Edalyn’s voice. “Trust me, I’m not cut out for kids. That girl will be better off here than she ever would be with me.”
Alador took one last deep breath. It was a hell of a decision to make without his wife, but… “Alright then. We’ll take her.”
A wave of relief crashed over Edalyn, clear and visible. “Thank you,” she sighed, running her hand down her face again. “This is for the best. You’ll see.”
“I understand,” Alador said quietly, because he did.
“I should go,” Edalyn said after another moment. Alador nodded, but then Edalyn did something Alador truly did not expect.
She hesitated.
Between all the chances he’d given her, Alador had been relatively certain Edalyn truly held no attachment for this child - even her one moment of weakness thus far had been in relation to betraying Raine - but now she stopped. She turned to look at the baby one last time, and Alador swore he caught a sadness in her eyes. Maybe if he had pushed a little harder, backed down a little later…
But then it was gone, and Edalyn’s self-sure demeanor had returned. “Goodbye, good luck, good riddance!” she called over her shoulder. “It's probably not genetic, but if she ever turns into a massive bird-bear hybrid monster, go see my mother!”
At first, Edalyn’s words didn’t fully process. “Aunt Gwendolyn?” Alador wondered. “What would she know about-” Then her warning sunk in, and his alarm spiked. “Wait, a what ? Is that a legitimate concern!? Edalyn!”
But it was too late. With one last cackle, Edalyn turned cloak and spun back out the front door. The booming thunder and howling wind outside accented her laughter, making her seem larger-than-life for a brief moment. Then, between one flash of lightning and the next, she was gone, and it was only the rain and storm. Alador stared out the open door another moment or two, but there was no sign of owl or lady.
When Alador turned back around, he saw the baby had woken up, and was staring back at him with two bright yellow eyes. It struck him then, as he closed the door and made his way back over to the table, that he had no idea if they had the proper supplies for a baby. What did a baby need, exactly? The twins were two now, weren’t they? Their things would serve for now, he was sure. Odalia would know better than him.
Alador shook his head and sighed, lifting the baby - his baby, now - up into his arms. He’d never held the twins for long before, so it all felt very stilted and awkward. The baby didn’t start screaming immediately, however, so he figured he must be doing something right. ‘ My baby ,’ he thought again. ‘ My daughter .’ Despite all his own dedication, it still didn’t fit right in his mind. He wondered if it ever would, or if he would always associate this child with Edalyn Clawthorne and that last look of longing. Perhaps a name would help.
What was it Edalyn had called her?
“Well then, Amity,” he said at last. “Let’s figure out how we’re going to introduce you to your new mother.”