Archive of Our Own ^beta

Fionn tries, and somewhat fails, to hold back a laugh as Cedric blows his bangs out of his eyes again. 

“You do know you could cut those back, lad?” Fionn asks wryly, raising an eyebrow.  

Cedric turns back and looks at him with a blush crossing his cheeks. 

“No. No, I like them fine this way. Greylock told me last year, when we were still roommates, that they were in fashion. He even taught me how to cut them properly and curl them. He said they framed my face nicely … not sure why … but now that we’re in our Master levels he’s moved in with the other Illusion sorcery students. And, as for me? Well … you saw the list starting in Fall this year. I’m the only Restoration sorcerer you have to teach soooo …. I live by myself. Which … W-Which is fine. I like my privacy anyway.” Cedric rambles. 

Fionn once again grins. 

He knows full well why young Greylock would be complimenting the way his apprentice’s hair framed his face. But, he’ll let Cedric alone on that for now. It’s the boy’s birthday after all. 

“Where are we going anyway, Master Fionn?” Cedric asks, rushing to keep up with him. 

Fionn smiles at Cedric as they wander through the small village near Hexley Hall. 

“Well, over a lunch we shared in my office last year near the end of term, you mentioned that your father all but forbade the celebration of your birthday after the … well, rather unfortunate accident on your sister’s tenth birthday several years back. So, that set me to wondering, if you’d ever gotten a birthday present since you turned seven. And, that set me to realizing that you are in need of a familiar, lad.” Fionn grins. 

Cedric’s eyes widen as his face breaks into a grin before he schools his expression. 

“But … B-But, I can always borrow one of the schools. Granted they usually change every year depending upon who is available, but …” Cedric begins. 

Fionn holds up a hand. 

“The point of a familiar, lad, is that they are familiar. I won’t have any apprentice of mine using whomever is left over stock at the school. No. That just won’t do, laddy. Especially not in our line of work. In Restoration magic, your hands must be steady and will often be busy. A smart and well trained familiar that knows ingredients and can gather supplies for you while you keep steady hands is imperative, lad.” Fionn says, with just a touch of sterness to prove his point. 

Cedric looks at Fionn with wide eyes as the hopeful grin that he had tried to school off his face begins to spread again. 

“So, we’re really going to celebrate … with like … a present and cake? Father said he didn’t want to invest much more than the basic tuition since there wasn’t much hope for my prospects. There’s probably still not. However, it really would be nice, if it’s what you want to do. I really don’t want to let you down. This is … it’s an investment. I’ll try to be worthy of it. Truly.” Cedric beams at him. 

This is the side of the boy only Fionn is privileged to see. Even Rosa Calderón, arguably the only other person at Hexley besides Fionn to decide Cedric has any talent, catches just sparse glimpses of this side of Cedric. 

To the rest of Hexley, besides the two of them, Cedric may as well be a mouse or a spider lurking in the tight corners far out of the way of people’s feet and fists. 

Maybe it’s right the lad wears his bangs like little curtains, he often seems like he’s hiding from the world. Though, there was a moment these last years when he was rooming with young Greylock that I had hope things might change for the lad. Fionn thinks, with no small degree of bitterness. 

Yet, this is all internal. Externally, Fionn puts one of his strong hands on Cedric’s thin shoulder and gives it a squeeze. 

“Yes. We are to have a real celebration. Profesora Rosa has insisted you try a traditional cake from the country of her birth as well as something about a special form of hot chocolate since the cake is vanilla. She knows about your chocolate obsession, and she won’t have you go without something chocolate on your birthday. And, before you ask, no, she still won’t reveal the name of where she fled from. Though, she says she has gifts for you as well. Her exact words were: ‘I will not hear of him turning them away. No birthdays for ten years? Unacceptable! This Great Goodwyn is a barbarian!’” Fionn grins, giving Cedric’s shoulder a second squeeze. 

Cedric blushes. 

“This is a lot of fuss. Mummy and I celebrated in private before going back to school these last couple of years, I suppose. It was nothing lavish. A small conjured cake and basically whisper-sung ‘Happy Birthdays.’ But, it wasn’t nothing. I thought I had told you that!” Cedric insists. 

He had. 

It wasn’t enough for either Fionn or Rosa.  

“Well, term starts so early you never get to celebrate with her on the day, lad. Usually, we start back up right away between the third and the fifth. So, we figured that it might be nice for you to celebrate on the ninth. Right, laddy? You haven’t had a proper celebration in a while, and you’ve not had any celebration at all on the actual day of your birth since starting at school.” Fionn offers. 

A white lie never really hurts in these matters. Fionn supposes. 

Cedric sucks in his cheeks as though he’s deep in thought. Then, he nods a couple of times as he rubs his arm awkwardly. 

“Thank you. It was just so unexpected when you told me that our lesson for the day was going to be coming out here to get a birthday present. I was in shock.” Cedric laughs. 

Fionn smiles. 

Shock was an accurate description of Cedric’s emotional state. Cedric had nearly dropped his books as he threw his arms around Fionn’s neck. 

“Well, now that we know what we’re after, what kind of familiar would you like?” Fionn asks. 

Cedric bites his lip as a wistful sort of look enters his eyes. 

“Well, Master Fionn, I’ve always loved corvids. I once chased a couple of teenagers into a tree trying to defend a jay’s nest when I was six. You should have seen the look on …” Cedric’s face falls. 

Fionn knows that expression. This is a before memory. Before memories often get interrupted by the knowledge that they are never again memories now. 

Fionn kneels in front of Cedric and takes the teen’s hands in his. He cares little that he’s kneeling in a pile of rather dirty snow. Robes can be washed. Hearts can not. 

“Lad, when you first started fleeing to my office for lunch to escape, what was it you so often called it, falling down? falling over? … ah no matter … When you started making it a habit to have lunch with me, do you remember what I told you?” Fionn asks gently. 

Cedric nods but he doesn’t meet Fionn’s eyes. 

“Yes. Well, it bears repeating. I told you that you get to control how your narrative is written, lad. They have made their choices. They have chosen to miss out on what an incredible, good, lovely, and wonderful person you are by creating labels of their own. They’re writing a story that doesn’t exist. You get to choose whether or not you believe their story true, and fall in step with the story they want to tell, or if you’d rather write your own. That’s your choice, Cedric. I, for one, see your goodness, laddy. And, I am forever saddened that they are missing out on the you they have chosen not to see.” Fionn says, emphasizing just how much Cedric’s old friends and family are missing. 

Cedric throws his arms around Fionn’s neck. 

“Why do you always know what to say to me?” He asks. 

Fionn simply laughs heartily as he embraces Cedric tightly. He loosens the embrace as Cedric pulls away. He brushes Cedric’s stubborn bangs from the teen’s face. He smiles seeing those two very small white stripes at the forefront of that jet black hair as his fingers brush the curls away. 

Cedric has always been such a distinctive little figure in Hexley Hall. Between those stripes of white in his hair and the horrible nicknames, there weren’t many places, besides Fionn’s office, for Cedric to hide. 

“You’ll learn, lad. Healing magic has lots of parts to it. And, one part of Restoration magic is learning to heal hearts and minds as much as physical bodies. I’ll chat with you more about that as we find a stall that sells corvids , yeah?” Fionn offers. 

Cedric lights up as he tries to fall in step with Fionn’s huge strides.  

“I think a raven would likely be best, A raven wouldn’t mind being solitary, and my life will likely be rather solitary. I’m expected to become a scholar. I’ll likely end up as some kind of monk or something … my marriage prospects are … pfft … nothing. But, most ravens like living completely alone, or just with their mates, so I think that would be good. If my familiar chooses a mate, I wouldn’t mind clearing space for an extra raven. I wouldn’t want a crow because they live in families. Breaking up a crow from their murder would feel cruel. Besides, ravens live a long time. I … I don’t think I could handle a bird with a short life span. I … yeah … no … Ravens live a long time and that’s good for me.” Cedric deduces. 

Fionn flinches a little at Cedric talking about his marriage prospects. That’s a discussion for a different time. 

If nothing else, Greylock would seem to disagree with you based on the looks he threw you during ninety percent of the school dances I’ve chaperoned in the last few years. Yet, I know that this is not Ulster, and the Tri-Kingdoms frown on such unions. Sadly. I know quite little of the individual Kingdom’s customs. But, seeing as Enchancia rules so tightly and often dictates propriety, I doubt what remains of Rudistan’s original customs can be practiced. 

If they treat the minor Kingdoms anything akin to the way they treat their colonies, can Rudistanians still speak their language? I’m lucky to still have my mother tongue, my religion, and most of my culture. But, they’re doing their best to ensure we can’t cast Ulsterian magic. Soon enough, there will be no centaurs left, and then where will we all be? Our whole Kingdom’s structure will collapse a’top itself. One Queen for the Maiden. One Queen for the Mother. One Queen for the Crone. It’s how we’ve always ruled ourselves. But, not all want to allow us that. Cedric saw as much painted on my blackboard ‘fore I could cover it when he was twelve. Oh that was a fun conversation to try and skirt ‘round so he didn’t have to hear all the details. He was far too young to be caught up in all that. Still is, in my opinion. Let his childhood last as long as it can. Most of it was stolen from the lad. Fionn muses. 

It’s Cedric tugging on his wrist that breaks him out of his thoughts. 

“Look at him, Master Fionn. Look at his eyes. They’re so beautiful aren’t they? The green reminds me of that herb you told me about that can sometimes turn potions green. What was it called again? The one Restoration sorcerers use for pain relief in Alchemy sometimes?” Cedric asks him. 

Fionn smiles as he shakes his head looking at the raven. The bird is now looking at Cedric curiously. 

“Wormwood. It’s the chlorophyl that dyes the potions green. It occurs after all is distilled after the ingredients are heated. Good memory. I told you that but once in passing years ago, lad.” Fionn praises. 

Cedric beams at Fionn with the fire of the sun. 

“I remember all that stuff easy. It’s the party tricks that seem to fly out of my head and can’t stick. Which, for some reason, is all anyone ever seems to want of me. But, I can’t stand crowds. I never much cared for them, and then after … well … you know … I just … I can’t. ” Cedric whispers. 

Fionn places a hand on Cedric’s shoulder. 

“Well, none of that will matter in the field you’ve chosen, lad. In what we do, it’s you and the person with whom you’re making the connection. That’s what I’d hoped to explain to you before I got distracted. We heal minds and hearts as much as physical forms, laddy. And, that’s about making connections to people. So, is physical healing, in it’s own way. But, when you heal a mind or heart, you have to connect to the person you heal. You connect to the part of them you know. And, for better or worse, lad, there’s always going to be bits of the hurt left. Hearts are especially messy to heal. But, know this, it’s never the fault of the person who needs the healing, and there can be beauty to come after the healing happens. The healed have a lot to teach us. We just forget that sometimes. But, you won’t because you’re one of them. It will make you a very special Restoration sorcerer someday. Promise.” Fionn says, with a wink. 

Cedric nods a few times as he wipes a couple of tears from his eyes. 

“You’re sure you want to get me a familiar? They’re so expensive.” Cedric says, slack jawed. 

Fionn shakes his head and sighs. He looks at Cedric with his brows raised high. 

“You can pick any one of them that you’d like. I promise, laddy. My treat. I absolutely insist. You said your family hasn’t celebrated your birthday in ten years, Cedric?” Fionn asks. 

Cedric bites his lip, looks at his feet, and shakes his head. 

“After what I did to my sister, Father said the world already knew who I was so there was no use celebrating at ten with any kind of formal presentation. When Father decided on that, it sort of became a ‘why bother’ situation. Mummy and I sort of celebrate privately. But … err … well …  it’s usually very small and, like I said, almost, kind of, secret. So, we celebrate. Honest. I couldn’t impose.” The boy insists. 

Cedric begins playing with the sleeves of his school robes as he usually does when he’s nervous. 

Fionn risks looking at the raven. The raven looks at Cedric almost lovingly and, it’s clear to Fionn at least, the raven has made his choice even if Cedric hasn’t. 

Fionn sighs deeply. He tries to gather himself because, of course, Cedric’s concern is how everything is viewed. He has been taught to defend his family, often at his own expense, all his life. Goodwyn’s choices are the only choices. So, Cedric will defend them no matter how little sense they make. 

With a final deep breath, Fionn quells his anger at Goodwyn and smiles at Cedric. He brings Cedric’s attention back to the raven he was looking at by turning Cedric back to the cage. 

“I think he likes you, and I’d like to get him for you. Remember what I said about the kind of work we do?” Fionn replies, grinning. 

Fionn stands back and watches Cedric tentatively approach the raven. The raven also regards Cedric. Cedric smiles at the raven, and the raven seems to decide that Cedric is his. There’s something almost human and protective in the bird’s face as the raven stares at Cedric. 

For that alone, Fionn would pay any sum of money. 

He can’t be everywhere. He certainly is not welcome in the Enchancian palace. There are places he cannot follow Cedric where Cedric is desperately in need of someone to be his friend and confidant. This is a gesture that he can provide that will, hopefully, help. 

“I like him. He’s smart. I can tell. He’ll be loyal. Even if I mess up, he’ll stay. I can tell.” Cedric says, full of confidence.  

Fionn smiles and puts a hand on Cedric’s shoulder. 

“‘Tis settled then. He’s yours.” Fionn grins. 

He walks off, leaving Cedric and the bird to get acquainted. 

An investment in his future. One no one else seems willing to make. Who knows, perhaps he’ll make such an investment in someone else’s future someday. Fionn thinks to himself as he pays the shopkeeper. 

Fionn laughs to himself. It actually does seem likely Cedric might. In fact, when Fionn retires, he might just offer Cedric his job. There are so few Restoration sorcerers left and, what Cedric lacks in his ability to cast well in public, he more than makes up for in research and experimentation. Besides that, though no one would ever guess it, in small groups, Cedric is good with people. 

The lad just gets overwhelmed by large crowds. And, I don’t blame him one bit. His formative memory of a crowd was as a wee seven year old child being berated o’er a mistake and called bungler and worse! I’d hide from most large crowds too. Yet, they judge him for how he acts in front of groups! No. No. How he is with just a few people, or better still one on one, ‘s how the lad really is. I’ve been sayin’ this to Grimtrix for years. He’s not skittish. He’s not stupid. He's not plotting some kind of scheme. He’s just … quiet. He’s a frightened little thing that you have to wait have come to you. And, you can’t. be. showy. Cedric sees right through that kind of act. Grimtrix relies on showy. Puts Cedric right off though. ‘s why they don’t get on. Fionn muses. 

Fionn finds himself walking a bit slower than he intends to Cedric’s side. Yet, as he returns, he hears Cedric talking, and he observes from a far for just a moment. 

“And, I promise, I’ll be a good teacher. And, I’ll show you the Conjeteria so you can learn how to get treats even when I’m not around. All the familiars do it. I’ve seen them in there from time to time. I’ll let you in on this in advance. I’m not well liked. So, you’ll have a tough go of things. But, I’ll try to make it worth your while. We’ll be good mates, you and I.” Cedric vows. 

Fionn sucks a breath through his nose and lets it out through his mouth. This. This moment right here. This was worth every one of the gold coins he spent. 

Cedric has had no childhood. It was stripped from him the moment he uttered the words “ Explosio Sublimo .” 

Yet, Fionn has been blessed by the Wonderstruck Maiden, the sacred Ulsterian spirit of childhood itself, to grant Cedric some semblance of a childhood in the sparse few moments he has had with him throughout Cedric’s time at Hexley thus far. And, as Cedric is still very much a child amongst Fionn’s own people, and will be until he graduates from his studies, Fionn will do his best to grant Cedric the sacred childhood the Enchanian Court has all but denied him. 

Fionn returns to Cedric’s side. 

“We’re all squared away. You can take his cage with you, and we can head back, lad.” Fionn says cheerfully. 

Cedric looks at Fionn happily before reaching up and taking the top of the raven’s cage. 

“We’ve already begun our chats, Master Fionn. He’s a good listener. It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to when I don’t have lessons with you. Thank you. You can’t … This means the Realm to me, honest.” Cedric says softly. 

Fionn shakes his head with a soft smile. Cedric keeps making this worth it. 

Fionn more than knows Cedric has few friends. And, now with Grimtrix as his discipline master, it’s only a matter of time before Greylock leaves the friendship he has built with Cedric completely behind as well. 

Fionn isn’t stupid. He knows that Greylock’s family has near bankrupt themselves to send their son to Hexley. He wasn’t sure how the rumor started, or how the truth of it was confirmed, but it’s true nonetheless. 

As such, Greylock needs a good job in a decent sized court. If Greylock is even remotely associated with Cedric in the years nearing graduation? Well, those prospects dwindle because people have insisted Cedric is a bungler. In reality, if he’s calm, the boy is actually exceptionally gifted especially in healing spells. 

Yet, Grimtrix isn’t going to be shy tellin’ Greylock to ditch Cedric fast as he can either. Grimtrix may talk a good game, but he’s fake. Cedric has said some … interesting things about him too. I hate him. Always rubbed me wrong. One of these days … mark my words, he’ll slip, and I’ll be waiting. Fionn thinks bitterly. 

Fionn has never seen anything like what Cedric did reversing the salamander potion spill. 

Just about a month into their first year at Hexley, Greylock decided it would be a lovely prank to dump a salamander form-changing potion on himself only to discover that it didn’t wear off. 

Everyone had been either laughing or completely horrified. 

Then, when everyone left, Cedric had just flipped through pages of a book, found the reversal spell, and returned Greylock to normal. He swore Greylock to secrecy because it was a spell the students, technically, weren’t supposed to learn for another year and, if it had gone badly, they both would be in huge trouble. 

Greylock, not wanting to receive disciplinary action for a silly prank gone wrong, practically fled the scene leaving Cedric alone. 

Yet, Fionn had seen it. It proved to him that, if Cedric thought no one was watching, or if he had an audience of sparse few, he was talented. Fionn had nearly scared Cedric half to death, popping out from behind the wall he stayed behind to watch the exchange. 

That moment had begun their private lessons and, Fionn supposes, it had begun their friendship. 

“Well, he’s yours now. What will you name him?” Fionn asks Cedric, with his brow raised slightly in curiosity. 

Fionn regards the raven again. The bird looks at him rather cheerfully. Cedric is right. This bird is keen. He’s got a thoughtful sort of face, with bright intelligent green eyes. The raven looks at Fionn with a degree of respect that Fionn isn’t sure he has earned. Yet, he accepts. 

From his study of animals, he knows that the Ravens of the Mystic Isles worship Odin. Their unspeaking brethren here would likely do the same. He wonders if this one, the one Cedric has chosen, isn’t a direct descendant of Thought or Mind. 

The way the bird looks at Fionn seems to suggest an uncanny brilliance.  

“I’ll call him Wormwood, after the herb you taught me about. The one you said they infuse spirits with to relieve pain. The one we said his eyes look like.” Cedric says, grinning ear to ear. 

Fionn looks up and tries to keep the burning from his eyes. 

Cedric talks like that a lot. 

Fionn has learned to listen for double meanings when Cedric talks because, if he doesn’t, he misses important things. 

Fionn used to think Cedric truly was very clumsy. Then, he realized that the stories surrounding falling down had too many layers to them to be true. Falling down. Falling over. Tripping. They weren’t the only metaphors in Cedric’s tales. 

Cedric used to talk about the view from parties. That one took longer to parse through. Then, Fionn realized Cedric was describing galas in the garden that he watched from his father’s workshop window because he was no longer a welcome guest at feasts until he turned thirteen. 

“Once I could be trusted with such matters again, I was allowed back. But, even then people questioned if it was wise setting me loose until I was of age. They think I can’t hear … I hear just fine.” Cedric had told him. 

Fionn knows Cedric is telling him something by saying that he’s naming Wormwood after the herb “infused in spirits to relieve pain.” He’s telling him: “I see what you’re doing. It’s already working. Thank you.”  

Fionn simply puts his arm around Cedric’s shoulder in a half-hug that Cedric leans into warmly. 

“You’re welcome, lad. Very welcome.” Fionn whispers. 

The two of them enter the Hall together side by side to join Rosa in her office for the rest of the celebration to come.