Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Sage of Truth was good with children.

At least, he thought so. His greatest delight was teaching the elementary classes at the academy, particularly to the academy's youngest students.

Children were delightful. They were so honest with their emotions in a way that adults had learned not to be. They asked the strangest and weirdest questions, questions that the Sage had never considered before in his life. They came up with the most interesting stories, ones that the Sage found himself as fascinated by as the latest play. Sure, they could be messy and selfish, but that didn't change a thing. They were raw, unfiltered, Cookie, and it was a delight.

So, when Shield Salt discovered the lab? When he discovered the five clones made of them and some unknown donors? When he discovered what were little more than babies?

Bright Sugar was the first to accept responsibility for her clone, tears running down her face as she held her close. She had always wanted a child, but her own responsibilities and her own traitorous body made it difficult. To fill that void, she had turned her mothering to those closest to her.

The Sage was next. According to the lab records, he was named Starry Almond Milk.

The moment he was set in his arms, he fell in love.

His hair resembled his own- a soft puff of blue that turned darker, almost purple, glittering with stars, appropriate for his name- with white bangs. One eye was blue, rimmed with white, while the other was gold, rimmed with black. His cheeks were plumper than the Sage's at this age, and his skin was a warm tan, suggesting that the donor had taken hold here.

He wished he knew the other donor, just in case, but it didn't matter. The Sage loved him, his little star.

And then reality set in.

Parenting was hard. The Sage only saw his students for some of the day, when they were in public. And none of them were babies. The youngest of his students was four.

Starry Almond Milk was a baby. He didn't know how to use the bathroom, he couldn't feed himself, and he expressed his needs through crying. The Sage rarely slept anyway, but it felt different when he woke up to tend to him, rather than getting an idea.

But that was the truth. Parenting was hard. It was what he signed up for. He signed up for exhaustion, for limited social time, for all of it. It was paired with the good moments- watching as Starry Almond Milk took in the world with curious eyes, the sheer delight that filled his heart whenever Starry Almond Milk did something especially adorable, the knowledge that this was a person. He was helping a person grow and develop, preparing him for the world.

So, the Sage adjusted. He even developed better habits. He learned Starry Almond Milk's noises, his motions. It was a struggle, but one he was happy to do.

Just not now.

Starry Almond Milk had been crying the entire night.

The Sage of Truth had no idea why.

He didn't need a change. He changed him, just to be safe. He didn't need a bath. He bathed him, just to be safe. He refused a bottle. He refused a blankie. He refused any of the hundreds of toys that the Sage had gotten. All the health scans he did presented him as a healthy baby. He adjusted the temperature in the nursery, the nightlight, everything, to no avail. At this point, the Sage was just marching back and forth, bouncing him softly, praying that he would just stop crying.

"Come on, little star…" he groaned into his hair. "Please stop…"

Starry Almond Milk's wails stopped.

The Sage of Truth froze. His heart rose-

And crashed back down as Starry Almond Milk took a breath to wail even louder.

He nearly burst into tears as well.

Witches, he was so fucking exhausted and, even more, worried. What was wrong? What did he need? What if something was wrong and his spells weren't presenting them? What if he had done them wrong?

His pacing started to speed up, slightly. Tears were rolling down his cheeks now. Starry Almond Milk's wails, so loud for such a small body, were digging into his brain.

Surely someone else would know? But, it was so late… who would even be awake? Who was the Sage comfortable waking up?

He turned for another round, as a glimpse of yellow caught his eye.

Recently, he had begun growing vanilla orchids, with a few bouquets, here and there, arranged with forget-me-nots around the Spire. He loved the smell of them, because the smell of vanilla also belonged to-

The Sage burst out laughing. Starry Almond Milk's wails briefly softened, as if he was startled, before starting again. He didn't cry this time, instead looking around for the sling he used to carry Starry Almond Milk.

Oh, he was an idiot!

Truthless Recluse!

Truthless Recluse, despite his reclusive nature and grumpy attitude, was one of the kindest and most caring cookies he knew. He loved children- the Sage couldn't count the number of times their debates were interrupted because a child or two wanted the Recluse's attention. He also was the former Beacon of Knowledge- he had to know something that the Sage was missing.

It might take him pulling a few teeth, but for Starry Almond Milk, it was worth it.

He found the sling and tucked Starry Almond Milk in, careful to lift the fabric around his face so he didn't get cold. When he was sure he was secure, the Sage tore a portal and stepped through, finding himself outside the recluse's manor. Most of the windows were dark, but he could see a few lights in the window.

BANG BANG BANG.

"TRUTHLESS RECLUSE!"

BANG BANG BANG.

"TRUTHLESSSSS!"

BANG BANG BANG.

"I KNOW YOU'RE HOME, I CAN SEE YOUR LIGHT!"

BANG BANG BANG-

The door slammed open, and the Sage nearly slammed his fist into Truthless Recluse's face. His other half had a nasty scowl and was dressed in a simple shirt and boy shorts, his hair messy. Any other day, the Sage would drink in the sight, but he was too tired to try. "What on Earthbread are you doing, it's the middle of the night-"

A loud wail escaped the bundle at the Sage's chest.

"I need help," he admitted, without a hint of shame for asking help. Shame didn't have a place here. Starry Almond Milk needed something, and the Sage of Truth had no idea what it was, so he needed to get help. It was simple. He pulled at the wrap, exposing Starry Almond Milk's face. That motion brought a wave of fresh tears from the baby, thrashing uselessly. "He won't stop crying. I don't know what to do, I've tried everything…"

Truthless Recluse's annoyed scowl dropped. He stared at Starry Almond Milk as if he had never seen a baby before. Slowly, his grip on the doorframe tightened until his knuckles turned white. His eyes darted from the Sage to Starry Almond Milk, tears beading up in those dull eyes.

"Uh, Truthless Recluse? My dear? Are you alright?"

Truthless Recluse blinked. The tears dried up, and his grip on the doorframe loosened. And then he spoke.

"How is that baby not dead yet?"

"Okay, rude," Truthless Recluse stepped aside so that the Sage could enter. "I know you think I'm very bad with people, but I'm good with kids! " The recluse nodded for him to follow, leading him into a parlor with a fire glowing in the fireplace. "I just- I have no idea what's wrong with him. He's been crying all night, I've tried everything." He pulled Starry Almond Milk from the sling, allowing his wails to echo off the walls as his other half leaned forward. "Now I'm worried I messed something up and he's dying-"

"Have you tried skin contact?"

"Wha- No, I-" The Sage of Truth hadn't even considered it. He knew it was important for newborn doughs, but Starry Almond Milk was a clone. Ah, there was his mistake. He looked up and his face went hot. "Oh, witches, there goes your shirt-"

Truthless Recluse finished yanking off his shirt, leaving him in his boy shorts. If this were any other time, the Sage would drink in every detail- the soft-looking breasts, the concerning thinness of his form, the scars that littered his skin- but he was distracted by holding out his hands. "Give me the child, please."

The Sage handed over Starry Almond Milk. The moment he left his hands, he felt the need to grab him back. Instead, he held his hands together, watching as Truthless Recluse took off his onesie with expert hands, dropping it to the floor without care, then held him close, pressing their skin together.

The moment he was held close, Starry Almond Milk's cries slowly faded, dropping into little whimpers, and then…

Silence. Blissful silence.

The Sage of Truth nearly collapsed. Instead, he stayed standing, watching as Truthless Recluse pressed a soft kiss to the baby's brow before he began to drift to one of the dusty armchairs.

He snapped his fingers, and before he could sit down, the armchair was dust-free.

"Thank you," Truthless Recluse whispered, settling down. Starry Almond Milk made a little noise, and his gaze turned towards him. "There we go…" he cooed softly, rubbing his back. "That's all you needed, isn't it? Poor thing, you must have been so stressed…"

The Sage of Truth settled across from him and nearly passed out. He refused to. "I didn't even think of it," he admitted. "I just assumed he wouldn't need it."

"Babies need all the skin contact they can get," Truthless Recluse whispered, smiling softly at the baby. "It regulates their body temperature and breathing, but it also promotes bonding."

He looked so soft then, glowing in the firelight. The small smile he had was different than any other smile he dared to show, and it looked good. It looked natural on his face. It did make him wonder, though…

"Did you…ever have children?" That would be fine. Technically fine, although the thought mentally made him foam at the mouth.

"No," he sighed, his little smile saddening. "I wanted to, though. Some of the other Beasts had children, back before… everything." Starry Almond Milk made a little noise, and Truthless Recluse began to gently comb his fingers through his hair. "I never really had time to find someone or find time to take care of a baby. It made people wonder, you know? I was associated with children, with babies, with fertility, but I never had a child of my own." He laughed softly. "I did have a grandson, though."

"A grandson?"

"Adopted. His parents told him about how all of the kingdom came from me, from the knowledge I shared, and he got confused, thinking we were related by blood," Truthless Recluse laughed again. "One day, he came up to me and introduced himself as my grandson. I ended up informally adopting him as my grandson."

"Oh. What was his name?"

"Oh, Custard. He was technically the second Custard, after his father, but he called himself Custard the III."

Huh. The Sage of Truth had heard about him. He was one of the patron founders of the Creme Republic. The House of Custard was descended from him, which was hard to believe, based on the man's supposed warmth and openness against Custard's whole… thing.

Before he could ask more, Truthless Recluse looked down. "He's asleep," he whispered. "We should probably move him to his crib."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll stay the night, just to be sure."

Well, how could he refuse that image? The Sage opened another portal and, after some very careful movement, Truthless Recluse rose up to his feet. Starry Almond Milk made a noise, and the two froze, but the wailing didn't start off. The two sighed softly in relief before Truthless headed through the portal, into the Sage of Truth's own quarters, instead of the usual nursery

He watched as Truthless Recluse headed towards the crib and, very carefully, set Starry Almond Milk down. He held still for a moment or two, and when protests didn't start, he tiptoed away, towards the Sage. The door closed, and the two relaxed.

"Thank you," he sighed. "I didn't know what to do."

"It's fine." Truthless Recluse straightened up, his neutral frown returning. He rubbed his arm, and that was when the Sage realized he was still shirtless.

"Ah, apologies, your shirt-" He snapped his fingers. A dark sweater he rarely wore except when the winter was coldest appeared in his hand. He held it up, and his other half, without a word, took it and pulled it over his head. The Sage mourned internally as the lovely sight of his other half's upper body disappeared under the thick layer.

"Thank you."

"It's fine, I rarely wear it." Something was off. "Are you alright? Surely I didn't interrupt anything too-"

"Where did the baby come from?"

That was a sudden turn. "What? Who? Starry Almond Milk?"

"That's his name?" Briefly, a ghost of that soft smile flashed. "It's lovely. And, yes, him. Where did he come from?"

The Sage blinked. "Ah, it sounds strange, but there was a lab in Crispia. Shield Salt discovered it and found that they were making clones of the other Virtues and I, using unknown donors to stabilize them." He nodded to the door. "Starry Almond Milk was my clone. It was decided that we were the ones to take care of them."

He expected the recluse not to believe him, or frown, or anything. Instead, a smile formed. "That… that is good."

"Why?"

"When I first saw you had a baby, my first thought was that there was someone else in the picture." Truthless Recluse seemed to realize he was being too honest, so his smile vanished. How foolish- the Sage of Truth had seen it. "Then I remembered that you barely stand people outside yourself and I, so it couldn't have been that, unless you found someone extraordinary."

Oh. Huh. That explained the tears, the grip on the doorframe. The recluse had been jealous over him.

He wasn't sure how to respond, so he tried not to. "Oh my~ Don't tell me you're jealous-"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes," Truthless Recluse admitted, without the blink of an eye or a change in his expression. "I am."

The Sage of Truth blinked. It was so rare for the recluse to be open about his feelings, especially about their relationship. He almost wasn't insulted by the rush of heat up into his face. "I- uh- well-" He cleared his throat, adjusting his collar. Was it him, or was it hot in here? "I- you know I would never consider being with anyone else, right?"

"Liar."

"No!" He couldn't help it. He grabbed Truthless Recluse's hands, suddenly terrified that his other half might run or turn away from him. "That is my honest truth. You are the only person in this world I want." It was written in his heart- Truthless Recluse, or Pure Vanilla, or whatever he called himself, owned him. He had been his the moment he confronted him in the square that day. If he wished it, the Sage would do anything for him, save for giving up the Truth.

(And, some days, he was selfish enough to consider it.)

"…I…"

A soft noise from the room made Truthless Recluse turn back and re-enter the nursery.

Starry Almond was stirring. And, based on the noises, he was hungry.

"Do you have a bottle for him?"

"Ah, yes, hang on."

The Sage hurried out of the room and towards the kitchen. It was easy enough to make a bottle for Starry Almond Milk, using a spell to warm it up. By the time he returned, Truthless Recluse had shed the sweater to hold Starry Almond Milk close. The Sage offered the bottle, and he took it, thanking him with a nod before holding it to Starry Almond Milk's lips.

His baby latched on easily and began to suckle. With each deep swallow, his little pointed ears wriggled, akin to a small kitten. The Sage bit back a laugh as Truthless Recluse's eyes went wide and full of adoration.

"That is a dangerous amount of cuteness."

"I know," the Sage squealed softly. "Bright Sugar fainted when I showed her."

All too soon, Starry Almond Milk was done. He pulled away and let out a little burp, his eyes sliding close with contentment. Truthless Recluse cooed, rubbing his cheek on the top of his head. Here, at this angle…

Oh. Ooh. He would need to test it, certainly, but it would explain a few things. He could imagine the other Virtues' reactions to his theory. (Bright Sugar would definitely be delighted.)

"Stay the night."

"Alright."

"I can- wait, really?"

"Just in case," Truthless Recluse said as he stood and carefully set Starry Almond Milk in his cradle.

"Of course." He opened the door to his chambers and, without a hint of reluctance, Truthless Recluse entered. By the time the Sage had closed the door, he was lying in his bed, with a space for him.

He lay down, trying to ignore the rush of his heartbeat in his ears, and smiled.

Truthless Recluse smiled back.

If it was the best night of rest the Sage had experienced since Starry Almond Milk had entered his life, it was his secret to keep.

The next day was peaceful. Truthless Recluse briefly left to change into simpler robes, returning before Starry Almond Milk's morning feed. The moment he saw him, Starry Almond Milk was reaching for him, something the recluse was happy to answer. It did bring a spark of jealousy to his chest, but the Sage couldn't blame his son for reaching for him.

Even with the annoyance of Deceit, Truthless Recluse was wonderful.

He took the day off, just to spend time with them.

It was a delight, watching as Truthless Recluse walked through the Spire as if it were his home (someday) and interacted with Starry Almond Milk. It was nice, to spend time with Truthless Recluse, not in debate but in domestic peace.

And then it happened.

"He's waking up," Truthless Recluse said from across the table. His lunch was small, allowing him to adjust to food again. The Sage would slowly adjust his portion sizes until he was a healthy weight.

"Shall we go greet him?"

"Yes."

The two headed to the cot in the living room, where the sunlight gently warmed the mattress for his son. Truthless Recluse reached there first, watching as Starry Almond Milk stirred, blinking those lovely blue and gold eyes.

Starry Almond Milk, eventually, looked up and then broke into a wide, toothless grin. He reached up, burbling out a coo that shifted into-

"Mama!"

The two stared.

"Did he just…?"

"I think he did!" This was much sooner than the books said he would start talking. But, then again, he was a clone made from the DNA of the soul jam of Knowledge wielders…

"Mama!" their son repeated. "Mama!" He flexed his little hands, those tiny fingers stretching out. "Mama!"

Truthless Recluse pointed to himself. "Mama? Is that me?"

"Mama!" This time it was louder, more insistent, bordering on tears.

"Oh, yes!" Truthless Recluse sounded breathless, grinning widely. It was such a strange but beautiful sight that the Sage found himself staring as he reached down and scooped up Starry Almond Milk. "Yes, that's me, I'm Mama…"

Starry Almond Milk let out a little baby laugh, curling up close to Truthless Recluse. He closed his eyes, one hand curling into Truthless's shirt. He was the picture of perfect baby contentment.

"Hey," the Sage cooed, reaching forward and rubbing Starry Almond Milk's back. "Who am I? Who am I, little star?"

One blue eye opened. The Sage gasped, delight building in his chest. He couldn't help it- he needed to know what delightful title he would be gifted! Would he be Mommy or Papa, to match Truthless Recluse's Mama? Or would he be something else, like Father or Mother? He couldn't wait-

"Sage."

"…What."

Truthless Recluse burst out laughing.

"He- ha-! Oh, starlight!" He lifted him up so Starry Almond Milk could see his beam. "You are so smart! Yes, that's the sage!" His son descended into delightful baby giggles as Truthless Recluse lavished kisses across his face.

"Don't encourage him!"

"Ah, don't worry, I'm not." Before he could call out the lie, Truthless Recluse smirked at him from under those beautiful ivory lashes. "Daddy."

His thoughts slammed into each other and crashed, like two trains making a deadly collision through some mistake in physics. It should sound wrong, hearing the title drawled out like that, with pure sin coating the name, in front of their baby. Instead, a good portion of his brain howled like a mutt in heat.

As his brain crashed and rebooted, Truthless Recluse giggled, more honest than ever. "Come on," he cooed to Starry Almond Milk. "Let's give Daddy a minute to adjust, and I'll show you my garden. Can you say Daddy? Daddy?"

Starry Almond Milk beamed up at him. "Daddy!"

"Ohhhh, you aren't going to call him that if he asks, are you?"

"Mama!"

"Good boy."