Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Again."

A melody echoed around the room followed by a bright golden light which shaped itself into fierce flames, twirling around the small figure in the center expertly commanding it.

The girl flicked her wrist and the flames turned into shadows, engulfing the room in darkness obscuring anyone's sight should they enter. The shadows disappeared, leaving behind a perfect replica of the Town Halls interior instead of the ornate ballroom it was.

With a wave of her hand the illusion collapsed, the wunder slithered back to the girl, who was now a perfect copy of her instructor. Her appearance changed again, this time to a man slightly taller than her teacher with flaming copper hair and kind blue eyes, then to a woman with reddish-brown skin and long glossy black hair and lastly to a young boy with warm brown skin and an eyepatch.

The transformation melted, melted into water which the girl turned into a murder of water crows, the creatures flew for a bit before she meshed them into a rock pile.

A sharp snap bounced of the walls and the rock pile slowly descended into dust.

With a slow turn of her wrist the damage reversed itself as if were rewinding a film. The reversing was only halfway complete before the girl doubled over, hands on her knees breathing heavily as if she had ran a marathon.

Warmth and power engulfed her muttering a quick thank you to her father, finding that her voice was quite sore and the already hushed words being drowned out but the chiming of the clock signalling that training was over and it was time for lunch.

She felt his presence in front of her and looked up into identical button-black eyes, well almost identical if you ignored the gold flecks in the older's eyes, he threaded his calloused fingers through her charcoal hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Well done black bird" praise flowing from his tongue at his exceptional daughter "I can see you've improved" a bright smile spread on the girls pale and flushed face, happy that she'd made an improvement to her abilities.

"Go and rest my dear Morrigan, I'll have a maid bring you some tea" he ran his hand through her hair one last time before Morrigan straightened herself, smoothing out her loose white shirt she usually favored for training and gave him a brief hug croaking out a faint "Thanks dad" before bouncing out the room.

"Oh! Mor?" he called after her, suddenly remembering the phone call this morning, she turned to face him "Your uncle Jupiter and his nephew will be visiting this evening, I thought you should know" a moment passed before a cracked but happy cheer escaped her lips and skipped happily out of the room.

Ezra Squall breathed a small laugh, shaking his head fondly as he let pride fill his chest, his daughter was only eight-years-old and has already so talented he can tell that she'll be great one day. It turns out taking Morrigan from Chancellor Crow 'care' was the right choice after all.

Chapter Text

"Show me again" the warm brown eyes focused on her gleamed with awe at the beautiful display of the Art of Weaving to the little boy across her. The small bouquet of Peruvian Lilies, Hyacinths and Yellow tulips she had made for him was placed near their stack of treats.

She nodded, choosing to indulge (show off) her brother a little bit more since it was a nice day. She cupped her pale petite hands and sung underneath her breath, glancing up briefly to check if she still had her companions attention and was met with the same amazed stare he had given her earlier this afternoon, stifling a fond giggle in favor of finishing the song. Her beautiful pale wunder sat patiently in her palms waiting for an order from its little mistress, obeying so when she willed it to transform into water that followed her hand as she waved it atop her head in an arc, the water reflecting the afternoon sun casting bright light and mini rainbows on the trees trunk they currently sat under.

Behind them Jupiter North and Ezra Squall watched their charges with soft smiles on their faces, Jupiter's blue eyes twinkled with amazement at the little girls display, chuckling fondly as she commanded the now water dog to chase her playmate in circles. "She's growing up so fast, don't you think so Captain?" the familiar silky voice of Ezra Squall spoke up, gold-speckled black eyes glanced at him with a small smile "Oh absolutely Mr. Wundersmith, could you show me a few of your trick?" He grinned as the older man laughed, bright and filled with mirth. "I suppose so if you insist" He rested his chin on the back of his hands as the man his attention was focused on him hummed beneath his breath, twirling his finger lazily as the wunder started gathering around it like cotton candy on a stick. Soon the dark golden wunder turned into a small but fierce string of flame which turned itself into a flaming Carnation that was handed to him with a subtle flirtatious flourish.

The fire flower did not burn him and the heat it emitted is like the delicious warmth in winter, "I hope this can burn for a long while Ez" a smirk played on his lips "Since I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 Chanda will be jealous of this" he twirled the bloom slowly admiring the Weave work of it and the pretty embers that followed it. "It will burn as long as you like Jove" Ezra stretched bones popping from the hours they sat here chatting the afternoon away.

"I believe we should talk about the boring stuff now though" he grumbled as he rested his cheek on his palm again "Cons of being an adult I guess"

Chapter Text

In Ezra’s humble opinion, all babies are ugly and dumb. Their lack of any defining features and coherent thoughts behind their beady little eyes just rubbed him the wrong way ever since he’d laid his eyes upon one.

And his was proven right once again as he leaned over this one’s crib.

This was the new Wundesmith? His would-be heir and his key to eradicating any trace of her? Ezra relaxed his eyes until it was almost closed. Surrounding the infant were thousands of bright white-gold lights buzzing excitedly at its new master. Seems so.

The crib it lay in was a simple one, made of dark oak that matched the utter plainness of the nursery it was placed in. If it could be called a nursery with how lackluster everything was. Ezra expected better from the “uprising star of the political world”.

Eh what good did having expectations do in his hundred years of living?

The Wundersmith rocked back on his heels as he surveyed the wriggling creature, it was around a month old and should a baby really be this thin already? He frowned. It looked…neglected, for a lack of a better adjective, he looked around him again, carefully surveying the room closely this time.

It was dusty and unused, there were still cobwebs in the corners and the only other piece of furniture in this miserable place was a drawer in the far corner. The crib, he noticed, was old, its mattress was lumpy and looked uncomfortable, and the blanket was threadbare and thin. There was only one toy for the infant, a white stuffed rabbit the sat on the edge of the crib.

As much as he detested infants, this one, however, is a Wundersmith, the Wunder chose it to wield and create and destroy everything in its path. It deserved better than this. Better than being treated like an afterthought when it could be so much more than that.

“Hm...” He hummed under his breath, wunder prodding at his fingertips as they twitched unconsciously. The action, or the wunder, had caught the infant’s attention as it awoke from its fitful slumber.

It cooed nonsensically as Ezra waved his hand in front of it, a trail of gold following the movement.

It was then a flurry of muffled voices caught his attention from outside the door. “Why do I have to nurse it?”  the maid hissed to her companion “Because Emberly,” the other one drawled, “It’s our job” the first one, Emberly, whined petulantly, “Stop that. If the master were to hear you acting like a child and, Divine forbid, embarrassing him, you’ll be thrown out on your ass in the middle of night with nothing but the clothes on your back” she smacked her companion, the maid’s yelp of pain startling the infant.

Ah, that was his cue to go.

He took one last look at the young would-be Wundersmith.

Near identical black eyes stared back up at him, as if sensing the question that bubbled up inside.

Does he take the thing in to raise and teach now or later?

Both were equally tedious.

On one hand, he was not equipped to raise a child from infancy, sure he was well-off financially, but emotionally? No. Any scrap of humanity he may have, was lost a hundred years ago in Nevermoor, along with everything he ever loved.

However, the same could be said of Corvus Crow, who was content to let his child waste away in this cold, dark place. Ezra doubts the politician would notice the disappearance of his ‘cursed child’, and if he did, he just might jump for joy at a burden relieved.

But in a way, raising the thing might prove more beneficial in the long run, if truth be told. He’d be able to oversee its education and growth personally, and make sure it becomes the Wundersmith it needs to be. If he just left it here it might die before it becomes useful, which would be a waste. And besides, when was he willing to back up from a challenge?

Ezra leaned back, having made a decision, he smiled at the infant in the crib “I’ll see you later beastie” and with that he closed his eyes and waited for the tell-tale whistle of the Gossamer Train.

He had work to do.

Chapter Text

Corvus Crow was a man who had everything.

A beautiful wife whom he loved to ends of the earth, a steady career in politics and lovely home in one of the most prestigious neighborhoods in Great Wolfacre.

His life also had gotten better with the announcement of his dearest Odelle’s pregnancy. Despite what his colleagues might think, Corvus wished he would have a daughter. A daughter who had Odelle’s lovely dark chocolate hair and her adorable button nose and his periwinkle eyes.

That was until it a turn for the worst.

Odelle’s pregnancy had weakened her until she had become bedridden, her once sun-warmed skin was now sickly pale and her face was sunken and gaunt. He hated to leave her side whilst she was suffering.

The doctors had warned her that if she did not terminate the pregnancy, her life would be forfeit. Corvus had begged and pleaded with his wife, that no matter how much he loved this child her life would not be worth it.

“Corvus.” Her frail hand found his, she looked as if she were made of fragile glass, that she would shatter at a moment’s touch. “Inside me right now grows our precious baby. To give her life would be the greatest thing I, as a mother, could give her” she had told him, “If this pregnancy did claim my life, please, love her with all your heart.”  Odelle pleaded, tears now forming in her sunken eyes. He shook his head, unwilling to part with his most beloved “Corvus my one, swear to me”

“I can’t…”

“Corvus…”

“I’ll try. Goddamnit, I’ll try for you my Odelle”

Odelle had gone into labor just fifteen minutes after that conversation.

And she was dead in thirty-three hours.

The child had no name yet. Corvus hadn’t wanted to give her the name he and his wife had chosen.

Morrigan Odelle Crow

That child didn’t deserve such a beautiful name, for she took the most beautiful thing in his life away from him. Eventide’s child really is wicked.

And so, in his grief, Corvus pushed away the only remnants of his wife that he had left. He’d hired nursemaids, nannies and maids to look after her in the farthest wing of the manor, he hadn’t even looked at her yet. He didn’t want to.

He threw himself into his work, building his reputation among the Wintersea Party, catching the eye of President Wintersea herself at a function. Overall, he was content to pretend the child didn’t exist.

How he had come to regret that now.

There was sharp pain in his chest. Guilt, shame, humiliation, he didn’t know. All he knew now was that his daughter was gone, along with the rabbit that Odelle had sewn for her.

Morrigan was gone and he had not known, not noticed until a maid had burst into his office and informed him that she was gone.

He had spared no expense looking for her. Even now, he yearned to hold his daughter in his arms, to soothe her and swear that he’d make it up to her, that he’d be a better father. But deep in his heart he knew.

It was too late for him to mend his mistakes. Too late for him to recover that which he should’ve cherished in the first place.

Chapter Text

Was it normal for children to love fire this much?

It was a re-occurring theme in the newly formed Squall household. Ezra would turn his attention away from the child for one second and suddenly she’d end up in front of the fireplace, or any burning thing, crawling to her doom. Ezra had to replace all ordinary flames in the house to wunderous ones to stop her from killing herself in her moth-like attraction to anything that glows and emits heat.

The child cooed as Ezra lifted her up and away from the fireplace. Again. “Honestly what am I going to do with you little beastie?” he didn’t wait for an answer as the child continued squirming, trying to back to her beloved flames. He sighed, moving to sit back down at his desk, a small kaleidoscope of orange-gold butterflies fluttering around her head like a crown.

Thud!

Now, if Ezra didn’t know any better, he’d be alarmed at the presumed intruder in his house. However, he did, in fact, know better as he curiously peered at the thin book that was unceremoniously thrown on the floor.

Baby Names for Your Bundle of Joy

Hm? He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at seemingly no one. The floorboards kicked up the book once again, demanding his attention. He simply rolled his eyes and entertained the child in his arms, ignoring the upset clatters of the room.

Now you might be asking, is Ezra’s house haunted? No my dears, it is not. It is, however, sentient. Yes, you read that right, The Wundersmith imbued his house with sentiency. Why? To look after the child of course! He was a busy busy man, and he can’t keep his eyes on the baby at all times, especially if the baby in question could somehow escape her crib and wander about the house aimlessly, and he positively loathed the idea of other people in his personal space.

The only problem was that the house was now very impertinent. Thinking it could boss him around in his own home (Technically it can but he wasn’t about to admit that).

He lifted the child to peer at her eyes. Button-black and so very curious, he tilted his head to the side and she mimicked the action, albeit with less grace. “Maybe it is time to grace you with a name firebug, what do you think?” he murmured as he hugged her close to his chest. A tendril of wunder placing the book in his hands. He’d been putting off naming her for fear of attachment. Ezra didn’t really need to get attached to a child that would only be used as a weapon. It would only hinder him and his plans.

Nevertheless, he can’t keep calling her ‘beastie’ or ‘firebug’ now can he?

Ezra adjusted himself a bit to sit more comfortably, and to sit the little hellion on his lap instead, flipping to the first page then promptly skipping several pages ahead, taking mental note of the ones he liked most, all while gently bouncing the baby, morphing the butterflies into tiny birds.

Charlotte

Meaning: Free Man

Origin(s): French & Roman

A classic yet elegant name. Though not really fitting considering who her fath- ahem, caretaker was.

Aria

Meaning: Song, Melody

Origin(s): Italian, Greek, Persian & Hebrew

An homage to the Wunderous Art of Nocturne perhaps?

Aithne

Meaning: Fire

Origin(s): Irish

A perfect name for a child who loves throwing herself into every fire hazard she sees. Though it didn’t sound right to Ezra, “You’d like the name ‘Aithne’ wouldn’t you little one?” she simply giggled and cooed; I’m guessing she likes it? He wasn’t all that sure. Maybe it can be her middle name?

Maeve

Meaning: intoxicating; she who rules

Origin(s): Irish

Powerful, befitting of a Wundersmith. “What do you think of ‘Maeve’ firebug?” he asked, somewhat rhetorically, to which the child responded with an eloquent “Bahbapfft” and a giggle as she swatted at the birds, seemingly uninterested. I’ll take that as a no then

Guinevere

Meaning: White fairy; Fair one

Origin(s): Welsh

Ezra made a face at that, “You don’t really fit the description of a white fairy now do you?” he absentmindedly played with the small hand that found his, gently caressing the impossibly small fingers. “Though I suppose you are fair in skin only my dear”

Seraphina

Meaning: Fiery one

Origin(s): Hebrew

“Well isn’t that fitting” he quirked to the child now laying on his chest as leaned back on his chair, gently stroking the thin, coal black hair on her tiny head.

Ciara

Meaning: Dark-haired; Little dark one

Origin(s): Gaelic

“Bah bah pahphf” babbled the little dark one, a bit of drool escaping her lips as she tried and failed to gnaw on her own fingers. Ezra quickly cleaned up the would-be mess and summoned her teething ring. Little dark one indeed, though dark-haired did apply. Ezra hadn’t seen anyone with hair as black as hers, it was honestly quite astounding.

Penelope

Meaning: Weaver

Origin(s): Greek

Cute. However, it is unlikely that her first Art would be Weaving, given her passionate love for fire.

Layla

Meaning: Night; Dark beauty

Origin(s): Hebrew & Arabic

Again, cute. But it didn’t roll off the tongue as smoothly as he liked.

Rhiannon

Meaning: Goddess; Great Queen

Origin(s): Welsh

Another great one, but not The One. It’d make a great middle name though, probably, as approved by the slightly muffled coos of the child.

Odelle

Meaning: Song

Origin(s): Greek

It was the name of the chancellor’s late wife, and the child’s late mother, if he remembered correctly. Shame, it’s such a pretty one too.

Ezra sighed as continued flipping through the pages of the book, he’d already taken a short break to attend to his and the child’s needs, and continued reading for another 15 minutes in silence as the little hellion fell asleep. None of these names sounded quite right to his ears or rolled off the tongue smoothly. He delicately tapped his thin fingers on the girl’s back, as he idly scanned the remaining pages of the book, when a certain name caught his eye.

Morrigan

Meaning: Phantom Queen

Origin(s): Irish

Phantom Queen hm? Ezra looked down at the child on his chest, who was waking up from her short nap, blinking up at him with bleary black eyes. “Hello Morrigan” he whispered gently, softly caressing her chubby face. The name seemed to fit like a glove as he looked deeply into her eyes.

“Mehmph?” it was endearing, the way she tilted her head almost exactly like him, so much so he let out a small bubble of laughter. Although that could just be the sleep deprivation, he hasn’t slept in what? 5 days? Taking care of a child is hard.

Ezra gently lifted her again to look her in the eyes, “Yes you, you’re Morrigan” the softness of a baby’s hands never failed to amaze him as Morrigan’s tiny little palms rested on his face as he brought their foreheads together.  

“Mmm Papa!”

“Mhm yes I- What?”

She simply giggled at his bewilderment. Big black eyes simply sparking with joy, and in his confusion, Ezra unfortunately didn’t take notice of the sparks popping off on top of her head.

“I- Repeat that again Morrigan?” more giggles “Please?”

“PAPA!” she loudly exclaimed, a second after the paperwork on his desk burst into multicolored flames as she shrieked in joy at the carnage she wrought upon his hard work.

But for once Ezra didn’t care. There were so many thoughts circling through his head at that moment he didn’t know which one to focus on. What did this mean? What should he do? Can he do anything about it? Should he just accept it? Would he be able to protect this, his, child from Her? So many questions with so little answers.

Though one thing did stand out, and it was a feeling of warmth and something else spreading from his chest to the very tips of his toes, a quiet sort of pride and happiness that he’d been refusing to acknowledge all this time as he’d soothed and cared for the baby that he’d taken from that cold, empty room.

Yes, all babies are ugly and dumb, but this one wasn’t so bad. Purely because she was his. His baby, his child, his Morrigan and no one, not even Maud-fucking-Lowry will be able to take her away from him.

“I won’t be the perfect father; I can’t be a perfect father. But I swear to you my Morrigan, I’ll try” Morrigan’s dark eyes looked at him, and he felt as if she was staring into the depths of his soul. Ezra pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

“I cannot shield you from the horrors of this world but I can teach how to fight it, how to stand tall against it. I promise you that, my daughter”