Work Text:
Silver lay pale and motionless in the bed, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths.
Lilia sat at his side, cradling Silver’s limp hand between his own, eyes fixed on the boy’s face.
.
.
.
He felt so peaceful...
.
.
.
The room was cloaked in shadows, save for the dim light of the flickering candles.
Lilia tried to steady his racing mind, but the silence pressed on him, thick and suffocating.
Memories came like waves, crashing and relentless, dragging him to places he had long buried—places he wished would stay forgotten.
And then, softly, almost without thinking, Lilia began to sing. As it was his only comfort that stayed within him as the years passed by.
.
.
.
.
"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream..."
.
.
.
The memory hit him like the winter wind.
A much younger Lilia sat curled in a corner of a grand room, his small frame shivering though the hearth blazed warmly nearby.
His knees were drawn to his chest, his eyes squeezed shut, trying desperately to block out the terrors clawing at his mind.
He had woken from a nightmare, his breath coming in shallow bursts, unable to tell where the dream ended and the real world began.
His heart hammered against his ribcage, and panic twisted in his chest like a thorned vine.
The soft rustling of robes announced someone’s approach. A shadow fell over him, but instead of fear, Lilia felt warmth settle in his heart.
Her voice was gentle, worn by centuries yet still carrying a soothing melody.
"Another nightmare, little one?" she asked.
He couldn’t speak—could only nod. Tears clung stubbornly to his lashes, shame coiling in his gut. He was supposed to be strong.
He was supposed to be fearless. But the darkness always found him, no matter how hard he fought it.
.
.
.
"Come here, child,"
.
.
she whispered, opening her arms.
.
.
"Let me chase those shadows away."
.
.
Without hesitation, Lilia crawled into her embrace, burying his face in the soft fabric of her robes. She smelled of pine and ancient earth, a scent that felt like home.
Her long fingers combed gently through his dark hair, untangling the knots left by restless sleep.
And then she began to hum—a tune older than memory itself, soft and lilting, as if it carried all the dreams of the world.
.
.
"I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam..."
.
.
The notes wrapped around Lilia like a cocoon, each one easing the tension from his small body. In that moment, she wasn’t just a queen.
She was someone who understood. Someone who knew that even the strongest hearts could tremble in the face of nightmares and more importantly...
.
.
.
.
A Mother....
.
.
.
"You are never truly alone, little one," she whispered into his hair as the song drifted between them.
"Even in the darkest moments, there will always be someone to sing you back to the light."
Lilia, safe in her arms, let the nightmares fade.
.
.
.
.
In the present, his voice wavered slightly, but he pressed on, the lullaby pouring from him like a lifeline.
.
.
.
"And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem..."
.
.
.
Lilia’s mind fractured again, tugging him into another memory—this one centuries later.
.
.
.
.
He stood by the cradle of a tiny fae infant, rocking it gently as the baby stirred. Malleus, newly born, already possessed the solemn gaze of someone much older than his years.
It had been years as he finally hatched the egg.
The baby’s bright green eyes glimmered as he stared at Lilia, his tiny hands grasping at the air.
Maleanor and Raverne had left him before their death, trusting Lilia with their most precious treasure.
He felt the weight of that trust like a chain around his neck, tightening with every passing moment.
Malleus whimpered softly in his sleep, and Lilia’s heart clenched. This child—this fragile, tiny life was a beacon in a world full of shadows.
.
.
.
He was fortunate...
.
.
.
That Maleficia protect him so he could visit the child...
.
.
.
.
Yet....
.
.
.
Lilia didn’t know if he was strong enough to protect it.
"You carry the weight of your bloodline, little prince," Lilia murmured, brushing a stray lock of dark hair from the baby’s forehead.
He could see its tiny horns... It was funny to see a dragonling transform to it's human form.
.
.
.
They all seems so fragile....like the humans.
"But not tonight. Tonight, you are just a child, and I will be here to watch over you."
He began to hum the lullaby that the queen once sang to him. Malleus quieted under the familiar tune, his small hand finally closing around one of Lilia’s fingers.
And just like that, Lilia swore he would never let the darkness touch this child. Not while he was still breathing.
.
.
.
.
"But if I know you, I know what you’ll do..."
.
.
.
The words slipped from Lilia’s lips, delicate as gossamer threads binding past and present. His hand tightened around Silver’s—so cold, too cold—and his throat constricted with a grief he didn’t know how to name.
.
.
.
Silver is human...
.
.
And he accepted that .....
.
.
.
But sometimes..
.
.
.
He forgot that..
.
.
.
.
Humans are fragile...
.
.
.
Like glass...
Silver, unconscious and pale as the moonlight, reminded him far too much of those he had already lost. Malleus’s parents and himself...
The Queen who had once soothed his nightmares now remained in her Palace in the Briar Valley.
And now Silver lay on the cusp of that same dark abyss, slipping through Lilia’s fingers no matter how tightly he held on.
.
.
.
He is afraid....
.
.
.
.
.
Afraid that he will loose him....
.
.
.
If being told from the past....
.
.
.
.
That he would love a human child and take care of him like his own son?
.
.
.
He would kill that person and said that was impossible...
.
.
.
.
But now....?
.
.
.
Fate really loves playing with him...
.
.
.
.
"Don’t go where I can’t follow, little one," Lilia whispered, his voice cracking.
.
.
"I don’t think I have the strength to watch you leave me too."
The candlelight flickered, casting restless shadows across Silver’s face. For a moment, Lilia swore he could hear the queen’s voice again, distant but familiar, urging him to keep singing.
.
.
.
.
"You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream..."
.
.
.
.
Another memory surfaced—one he rarely let himself revisit.
It was the day he found Silver, a baby abandoned in the woods. The child’s cries had drawn him through the forest like a thread pulling him toward an inevitable fate.
When Lilia first held him, the boy’s tiny hands grasped at him the same way Malleus once did—as if Lilia were the only tether to a world that made no sense.
He remembered the weight of the child in his arms, remembered whispering promises he wasn’t sure he could keep.
Promises that felt too familiar, too much like the ones he made to Malleus’s parents before their tragic end.
But he kept Silver. Raised him. Loved him. Because this child this bright, stubborn soul save him in return.
A chance to hold onto someone and not let go.
.
.
.
.
.
But also he was his light...
---
Back in the present, Lilia’s voice faltered as the final note of the lullaby lingered in the air. He rested his forehead against Silver’s hand, eyes burning with unshed tears.
"Come back to me," he whispered
.
.
.
"Just this once."
.
.
The room was silent, save for the faint crackling of the candles. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, slowly....so slowly it felt like a dream Silver’s fingers twitched in Lilia’s grasp.
A shuddering breath escaped the boy’s lips, and his eyelids fluttered open, revealing those familiar Auroral eyes.
"Father...?" Silver’s voice was weak, but it was there.... solid and real.
Lilia’s heart clenched painfully. Relief swept over him, sharp and bittersweet. He smiled, though tears slipped unbidden down his cheeks.
.
.
.
"I’m here, little one," he whispered, brushing Silver’s hair back gently.
.
.
.
"I’m here."
.
.
.
" Father is here......"
And in the dim candlelight, with Silver’s hand still warm in his, Lilia allowed himself to believe just for a moment that maybe, this time, the lullaby had been enough.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The soft hum of Maleficia's lullaby floated through the air, wrapping the room in an ethereal calm.
Lilia’s small frame relaxed against her, his breath evening out.
She had thought he had finally fallen asleep, and so she began to gently pull away.....but before she could leave, a tiny hand grasped hers.
.
.
.
"Don’t go..."
.
.
.
Lilia mumbled, half-asleep, his voice so small it made her heart ache. His grip, though weak, was insistent.
Maleficia looked down at him, and a tender smile touched her lips.
.
.
.
"I won’t,"
.
.
.
She whispered, settling back beside him as her long, midnight robes pooled around them.
Lilia’s eyes blinked open for a brief moment, hazy with sleep.
"It’s... a nice song," he murmured drowsily.
"Indeed it is," Maleficia replied, her voice soft, like the wind through ancient trees.
As she resumed the lullaby, the shadows in the room deepened, and the creeping thorns that adorned the walls stirred, slithering across the cold stone floor.
The dark magic responded to her presence, weaving a cocoon of thorns around the room, as if to protect the boy cradled against her from the outside world.
Lilia snuggled deeper into her side, his small hands clutching at her robes like a lifeline.
She gently stroked his hair, her fingers gliding through the soft strands. He let out a contented hum, and Maleficia couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped her.
"Just like a little fledgling," she whispered fondly.
Lilia didn’t respond—already slipping back into sleep, safe and warm in her embrace.
Maleficia’s gaze drifted toward the window, where the moon hung heavy in the starless sky.
The night felt endless, and with it came the weight of old memories, pulling her into the past like a tide that couldn’t be resisted.
.
.
.
.
It was autumn in the meadow, the air crisp and filled with the scent of fallen leaves.
.
.
.
A much younger Maleficia—just a girl then, without a crown or kingdom—ran through the forest, her hand held tightly by another.
.
.
.
Laughter echoed around them, light and free. The girl who led her was a mortal with sun-kissed hair, a golden cascade that danced with the breeze as they ran through the falling leaves.
.
.
.
"Come on, Maleficia!"
.
.
.
The girl called out, glancing back with a radiant smile that made her heart ache, even then.
.
.
.
Maleficia smiled softly, letting herself be pulled forward. She wished that moment could last forever—just the two of them, running through a world untouched by the burdens of immortality.
.
.
.
.
But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t.
.
.
.
Mortals were fleeting, like autumn leaves carried by the wind. And no matter how tightly she held onto her friend, time would eventually take her away.
.
.
.
.
The two girls finally reached the cliff’s edge, where the meadow opened up to a breathtaking view of the sunset. The sky was a canvas of oranges, pinks, and purples, the sun dipping lazily behind the distant hills.
.
.
.
The girl released Maleficia’s hand and stared out at the horizon, her golden hair shimmering in the light. She stood there, still as a painting, her eyes bright with childlike wonder.
.
.
.
.
"Hey, Maleficia..."
.
.
.
.
"Let’s be friends forever, okay?"
.
.
.
Maleficia’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, all she could do was stare at the girl standing before her, her heart aching with a bittersweet kind of longing.
.
.
.
Forever.
.
.
How easy it was for mortals to say such things, never knowing how short their "forevers" truly were.
.
.
.
"Okay,"
.
.
.
They sat down together at the edge of the cliff, their legs dangling over the side. The girl began to hum a song—gentle and familiar, as if it had always existed between them.
.
.
.
"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream..."
.
.
.
" I know you, That look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam "
.
.
.
" That look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam "
.
.
.
The melody wove through the cool autumn air, lulling Maleficia into a sleepy haze. She leaned her head against the girl’s shoulder, the sound of her friend’s voice wrapping around her like a warm embrace.
.
.
.
.
" And I know it's true, that visions are seldom what they seem "
.
.
.
.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and just before sleep claimed her, Maleficia caught a glimpse of her friend’s eyes—bright and clear, like the morning sky after a storm.
.
.
.
" But if I know you, I know what you'll do "
.
.
.
.
It was a beautiful Auroral Eyes....
.
.
.
.
" You'll love me at once "
.
.
.
.
.
" The way you did once.....upon a dream~ "