Beyond the Books

A Father's Confession

The artwork above is not mine.

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Author's Note:
I don't know why I have to keep ripping my own heart with these, but sometimes my inner writing demons are just like "Hmmm, how do you think they felt about all of this? How do you think he reacted to what happened over here? Do you think we could possibly make this hurt worse than it already does?" And me being me, I usually say, "I have no idea. Let's find out!"

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Characters: Kallias and Viviane
Book: A Court of Snow and Storms
This story takes place in the middle of Chapter 22.

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Kallias stared at the door, willing Wynter to return. Willing himself to go after his son. His feet remained rooted to the floor. His magic hummed an alert as someone breached the wards. Wynter was gone. His words still echoed through Kallias' head, hitting him harder with every repeating syllable.

"Thank you for waiting to give up on me until I started trying to rebuild myself. Thank you for reminding me that I'm far too broken to be fixed."

Too broken to be fixed. Waiting to give up on him... He'd been rebuilding himself. He'd been trying to piece himself back together. Trying to make sense of the shattered ruined mess that the Bloodless Witch had left him in. For months now, he must've been trying. And Kallias had undone that progress in mere seconds.

Self loathing sunk its venomous fangs into his heart, squeezing and squeezing until he was sure it would burst. And Kallias still couldn't move. He should go after Wynter, and if he couldn't, he should send someone in his stead. Wynter needed...

    He didn't know what Wynter needed. He hadn't known what his son needed for years now. Kallias lifted his hands to his face. Buried his shameful features in his palms. Sank to his knees, a shuddering breath passing between his parted lips. What had he just done?

"They will see it as you giving up on your son, just as they have." He hadn't give up on Wynter. He never had, and yet... "Thank you for waiting to give up on me until I started trying to rebuild myself."

    Wynter believed he'd given up on him. His son had been crying. Kallias had seen his tears freeze into crystals on his cheeks. He'd seen Wynter's frost tipped fingers rubbing his arms, as though he could numb whatever revolting things he'd been feeling.

How many times had he seen Wynter do that exact same thing? Rubbing his arms. Freezing himself from the outside in. Trying to numb different parts of himself. How many times had the temperature dropped so low around Wynter that even Kallias had difficulty bearing it?

His son had grown so cold in the past year. All of that cold had leaked from some gaping fissure in his heart. A hole that Kallias often wondered if he had helped create. A crack that had only grown after what Melantha did to Wynter. After what she made him do.

And Kallias only knew what that was because of the others who had been imprisoned with Wynter. Never once had Wynter truly spoken of what the Witch did to him during his months of captivity. Only when he referred to himself as her whore did he mention it.

But that terrible cold hadn't surrounded Wynter so much lately. He'd been thawing. Growing warmer. Coming back to life. Hell, Wynter had spoken to Kallias, and gone out and ridden with him more in the past few weeks than he had in the last year. He'd even written to his mother, promising that he would one day be able to see her again.