Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 02

"It's what his mother wants," he replied, the firm tone replaced by one of resignation. "I do what I must to keep her happy."

"I'll be here," he said. "You can hold my hand, if that helps."

Annie snorted.

It would, of course. A little. Given the choice between having him there and not, she'd clearly choose the former. But it shouldn't have to happen at all.

Now, Mike, she might not have minded taking into her bed. It'd be a lot easier to picture him as their father. She might not even need to do so. But Troy? He was a total jerk. And he didn't really know what he was doing between the sheets either.

"I really have to?" she asked, trying out her best puppy dog face.

"You really do," he said, as if he didn't even see it.

"What's going to happen now?"

"She just went to his room. And it's already late. So by the time his mother's done with him, it'll be well past everyone's bedtime. But in the morning-"

Annie slapped her father's forearm. "Between you and me."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Am I still going to be your Shadow?" Annie asked. "Your little princess?"

"Yes, and yes," he replied without hesitation.

"I'm not getting kicked to the curb?"

He gave her a "be serious" look. "You're going to have to learn how to share. Some nights, it'll be her who shares my bed. Other times, you. Every now and then, hopefully, you both will. But, no, you're definitely not getting kicked to the curb."

"Why did you want me to move in with you?" Annie asked.

A sad look fell over her father's face. If she was the little girl she felt like and she'd been asking him about why they'd had to put the family dog to sleep, he might have had the same exact look on his face.

"You don't really want to ask me that, do you?" he said at last. "We've been together all this time, and not once did it come up. Why now?"

"Because," Annie said. She slipped her hands under her thighs, where they couldn't embarrass her by fidgeting with her nightie or with the covers.

The fact that he'd dodged the question was itself already something of an answer. Up until that point, she'd been content to lie to herself, to buy into the romantic fantasy that he'd fallen in love with her the moment he'd laid eyes on her. Might even have believed it, at least some of the time. But now she felt the need to know exactly where she stood with him. And that meant she had to know what had led him to pursue her in the first place.

"You won't like it," he said.

Her stomach tied itself in knots.

"I don't care," she said. "I still want to hear it."

He looked away. Annie wanted to grab his smooth chin and turn his face back to her. Whatever he had to say, it would be easier to hear if she could look into those emerald orbs. But her hands staid put beneath her.

"I love you," he said. "So much it scares me."

"Now," she said.

"Yes. Now," her father replied. "But you need to understand that I'm not just saying that. Some days, I find it hard to think about anything else. You're always in my thoughts. I'll be talking to some minor noble and his daughter and all I'll be thinking is how good her dress would look on you or whether you'd approve of me wearing whatever it is that he's got on. When I'm alone, I have conversations with you in my mind."

Annie couldn't help but smile. Things were about to take an ugly turn, but she didn't hate hearing these things first.

"Parents always say this, so you might not believe me, but when you're receiving your punishment tomorrow, it's going to be harder on me than it is you," he said.

"You're right," she said. "I don't believe you." Then, with a sigh, she added, "But I'm sure it won't be easy on you. And I appreciate that."

"Point is, I really have fallen for you, Annie. Getting to know you, making up for the time I should have spent with you, playing the role of your father one minute and your lover the next, has been the best thing that's ever happened to me."

The thicker he laid it on, the more scared she got.

He must have realized that, because he finally stopped preparing her for what he was about to say and started saying it.

"I never, ever, take even the smallest risk unless I have a backup plan," her father said. His green eyes finally met hers and some of the anxiety drained away. "When the stakes are really high, I make sure to have an insurance policy underlying that as well."

"What's the difference-"

"Between a backup plan and an insurance policy?"

Annie nodded.

"The one is fully developed, ready to implement at a moment's notice if need be," he said. "And it's designed to achieve the same goal as the actual plan."

"And the insurance policy?"

Something bad was coming. The long buildup ensured that.

But, fuck, with those beautiful eyes looking right at her, everything seemed like it would be okay. That didn't make any sense. She knew it didn't. Yet she fell for it all the same.

"More modest goals," her father said. "Not yet actionable." He drew a deep breath, exhaled. "More of a last resort."

"Okaaaay," Annie said.

Why did it sound like he'd already plunged the knife in? So far, it all sounded to her like a boring business class or something.

"You were my insurance policy."

All the air went out of the room.

She wasn't even sure what he meant by that, but it sure didn't sound flattering.

"You have to understand," he said, an urgency in his voice that would only have been slightly ameliorated if he wasn't talking so fast that his words practically tumbled over one another, "the insurance policy never gets used. I've had to run with the backup plan many times, far more often than I'd like in fact, but not once have I ever needed the insurance policy. It's just for my peace of mind."

"Great," Annie said. "So I'm not only a piece on a chess board, but a disposable one."

"Were," he said. "I told you. I've completely fallen in love with you."

"Mmm hmm." She climbed out of bed, suddenly unable to stand the look of his face. Standing by the window, she said over her shoulder, "So what was I to insure against?"

In a small voice, her father replied, "The king exacting revenge for Nina's treason."

"Come again?"

"The original plan was for her to lead your brother, and whoever else might have come along, in an assault on the throne. Afterwards, she was to convince Eric to proclaim himself king. I wouldn't even get involved."

"Go on," Annie said.

"If that didn't work," he continued, "as it obviously did not, then I was to come in and save the day."

"Which you did."

"Only, what Nina doesn't know is that I wouldn't even have done that if things looked bad enough. If she died in the initial attack, I'd have let the king finish Eric and the others off, and I've had done whatever I needed to do to remain in his good graces. Including using you to get your brother and sister to turn themselves in."

If she hadn't been holding onto the windowsill, Annie might have collapsed to the floor. It was a wonder she didn't vomit. Or cry. Or throw something at him.

Perhaps she would have, if she hadn't been so stunned.

"You've have let them all die," she said at last.

He didn't respond.

"And what of Nick and Veronica? Would the king have agreed to let them go into exile?"

"Probably not, no," he said, voice hardly more than a whisper.

"So you lied."

"It's been known to happen."

Annie whirled on him. "Do you think this is a joke?"

His voice regained its vigor. "Sweetie, do you have any idea how young you sound?"

"I am young, Dad!"

That got her precisely nowhere though. "When you ask someone to tell you everything's going to be alright, and it's clear that you're never going to talk to that person again if they tell you anything else, what do you expect them to do?"

"I don't know, tell the truth?!"

"How many people have ever told you something you didn't want to hear, knowing you didn't want to hear it, and knowing that things would never be the same between you again if they did? One? Two? None?"

She didn't reply.

"Exactly."

"That's not a situation that arises all that often," she said. "Doesn't mean no one would."

"Course not," her father replied. "Honest people exist. So do Nobel laureates. But in all my time in the Playground, I never met one."

"Fine," Annie snapped, turning her back to her father once more. "Your commitment to honesty, or lack thereof, is perfectly average. Congratu-freaking-lations."

"Baby, don't be like that," he said. "It was never going to come to that."

"Right," she said, a bit more sharply than she'd perhaps intended. "You're so clever that your backup plan always works out, even when your original plan doesn't."

He came up behind her and put his hands on her hips. She grunted her disapproval but otherwise offered no resistance. And, much as she wished that she wouldn't have, when he swept her hair aside and kissed her bare shoulder, she felt a sense of relief.

"I understand you're upset," he said.

"Hmmph."

He damned well better.

"But that's all behind us now." Another couple of soft kisses cooled her fire further. "And I wouldn't tell you this if I was still planning to use you like that."

Annie laughed bitterly at that.

"I've never even told my sister. She still thinks that I'd have tried to avenge her death if the king proved deadlier than we feared."

"And I'm supposed to trust you more after you tell me that you're even more duplicitous than I thought? Than your sister, whose known you her entire life, suspects?"

"Yes," he said. "Because there's only one reason I'd tell you this."

Annie sighed.

Fuck. She really wanted to disagree with him. But her heart told her that he had a point. That however things began between them, it had grown into something special.

"Do you want me to stay here tonight?" he asked. "Or would you rather be alone?"

She should have said "alone." But she couldn't help herself.

#

His mother paced back and forth across his room, fuming. Kurt expected his bed to burst into flames at any moment. Still, he sat upon it, safely out of his mother's warpath. His legs were folded beneath him and his hands in his lap.

Small target.

"It might not be so bad," he said softly.

She rounded on him, her platinum blonde locks fanning out behind her. Her irises turned from icy cold to electric blue to golden and glowing in less than a second.

Drawing a deep breath, Kurt pushed on. "Tell me you don't see a little bit of an upside to being treated like a deity."

Part of him couldn't believe that he'd spent the morning trying to convince his sister that they belonged in the Eternal Garden only to come home and have to talk his mother down from the fit of rage she'd gone into when Kurt's grandfather told her that they were to return to Summer. He wasn't sure how to feel about the news himself. But one thing he was certain about was that they'd all be happier if his mother made her peace with it, since Grandpa didn't seem likely to back down.

It wasn't like they were being kicked out either. They were being sent back to serve as some sort of dignitaries. They were to establish a Temple of the Sun. The people of Summer would worship them. Well, the ancients, really. But he and his family would act as agents of those most exalted ones.

"I don't want to be a deity," his mother finally said. "Or a priestess or a diplomat or any of it. Fuck Summer. Fuck Hank Fisher. Fuck House Moody and House Hardt and every last damn one of them. I want to stay here and be a mommy." She placed her hands over her belly. "I want to see your child grow inside me. To welcome it into this world and hold it in my arms and raise it to be a proper sunlit noble that would do your grandfather proud."

"And you will," Kurt said.

"Not anytime soon," his mother replied in a huff. "How am I supposed to carry out my duties as Head Priestess from my labor bed? With a squalling babe at my breast?"

"When we return here then," he said.

Those golden eyes narrowed, piercing right through him.

More than anything in the world, Kurt wanted to hold his mother. To wrap his arms around her and run his fingers through her hair and feel the tension fade away. To hear her sigh and see her smile. When she got like this, it felt like something was wrong with the world. Like a storm was brewing, one that would wash everything into the sea. Like there was a black hole had opened up and would soon suck everything into it.

"Grandpa said-" he began.

"I know what he said."

Kurt swallowed the rest of his words.

The ancients appeared to be taking the arrangement rather lightly. But if they could deliver a few newborn immortals to be raised in the proper sunlit fashion and returned as envoys to Summer, where they'd preach values and customs of the Eternal Garden, things would change. Their family would be rewarded. And other families, seeing that, would send their children and grandchildren to serve as priests and priestesses. Eventually, his mother could step down and the three of them could return to Solopolis. And then his mother could have his children. As many of them as she desired. Olivia could too, if she'd ever make up her mind about whether she wanted that or not.

How far down the road that would be, though, was anyone's guess. Their grandfather wasn't technically commanding them to leave, but it was clear that he was disappointed in them. In him and Liv most of all, but their mother too, for allowing her children to turn out the way they had. If they earned the family a place in a middle ring of Solopolis, closer to the center of the city, their grandfather might welcome them back with open arms. But anything short of that would mean coming back to the same awkwardness they'd suffered for the past few days. That wasn't the worst fate in the world, but once they were in a position to change it, it would be hard to pass up the opportunity, no matter how badly his mother wanted to get away from Summer again.

"You're probably glad, aren't you," his mother said with a sneer. "Can't wait to see your little girlfriend again."

"No," Kurt said.

And, as he said it, he realized he meant it.

It had only been a few days, but he'd already forgotten about Patty. Well, not forgotten about her, exactly. But gotten over her. He wasn't sure whether he had stronger feelings for his mother or Olivia, but he'd have chosen either one of them over his cousin in a heartbeat.

"And your sister's probably dying to see Eric again."

"I doubt it," Kurt said. Whenever his name came up, which wasn't often, she looked like she wanted to either cry or kick someone in the balls. "Probably won't even speak to him."

"Hmmph."

Of course, his mother's foul mood had nothing to do with Patty or Eric. It was the ghost of Kurt's father that made the room feel so cold. Though she never spoke of him, his mother couldn't stop thinking about her late husband. Kurt was sure of it.

Not that his loss had been easy for either Kurt or Olivia to accept either. If Kurt was coping best of the three of them, that wasn't necessarily saying much.

His mother was really devastated though. She'd never really talked about the Eternal Garden or her father or any of that. Granted, it hadn't been that long ago that Kurt heard about Summer for the first time. But his sister, who'd been initiated years before him, had the same impression. Up until their father died, their mother had never shown any interest whatsoever in returning here, nor expressed any objection to living in Summer. They were here to help his mother get her mind off the father of her children, not because she hated her niece and nephew or any of Summer's other children.

Of course, Kurt knew better than to say any of that to his mother.

"I won't say you can't see her," his mother said, tugging at the braid she'd taken to wearing at her father's insistence. "But I'll tell you one thing, mister, if you think you can run away with her again-"

"Ma," Kurt said. "I won't."

"-I'll disown you," she finished, as if she'd never been interrupted. "I don't want to hear you using the `l' word either. And, this should go without saying, but if you even think about getting her pregnant, I'll rip your cock off and shove it down your throat."

"Patty means nothing to me," Kurt said.

"Yeah, right," his mother said.

Kurt ran a hand through his hair. What could he do to reassure his mother? He didn't dare try to touch her. Her Libido was throwing off energy like a bonfire emitted heat. That wasn't unusual, but the energy radiating from her took a different form than it usually did. Rather than pulling him towards her, it pushed him away.

"I don't know what I was thinking," he said.

"You weren't, obviously," his mother snapped.

"Guess not."

His mother glowered at him, apparently trying to decide if he was mocking her or not. She must have decided that he wasn't.

"I'm sorry, baby," she said, all of a sudden. "I don't mean to take it out on you."

Kurt hesitated a moment before responding, "It's okay. I understand."

She came and sat on the bed beside him. He hoped that she couldn't tell that this made him nervous. As she laid a hand on his thigh though, a jolt of electricity shot through him and his cock began to stir. That was it. One little touch and it was like there'd never been any fear or anxiety or anything. The tiniest little hint of a possibility of getting intimate with his mother wiped the slate clean.

"You've been so good about everything," she continued, her hand traveling closer and closer to his erect penis. "With me, and with your sister. We're so lucky to have you."

"No more than I am you," he said.

A smile spread across her face before she lowered her head and put a smile on his face.

#

The Hardt family castle was vast and imposing on the outside, but cozy and comfortable on the inside. With a flick of her wrist, Veronica raised the portcullis and strode into the barbican. From the outside, it would appear that she'd have a long way to go from the squat, defensive structure to the main keep. Once inside, however, she kicked off her shoes, climbed a short flight of stairs, and joined her family in the living room.

"Didn't expect you all to still be up," she said. "Or clothed, at any rate."

Her grandfather stood beside the recliner, a tumbler of whisky in his hand. Her mother and grandmother sat on the sofa, drinking tea. There was about as much sexual tension in the air as might be found at a funeral.

"What?" Veronica asked.

"Where's your brother?" Grandma Flori asked politely. Too politely. Like she was making small talk with a friend of the family rather than talking to her granddaughter.

"You guys are freaking me out," Veronica replied.

"Everything's fine, dear," Grandpa Randy said, walking over to her and kissing her on the cheek. "Can I get you something to drink?"

She sighed and said, "Not at the moment, thanks." She went and sat on the couch beside her grandmother. "Nick's...with Patty." That took longer to get out than it should have, but at least the bitterness she felt inside hadn't been reflected in her voice.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," her mother said.

Veronica almost laughed at that. Who was their mother to pretend to feel bad for her? She was as responsible as her sister for the pain and suffering Nick brought her.

Inadvertently, though.

Not for the first time, she forced herself not to blame her mother. As far as Veronica could tell, the woman only had eyes for her own mother. Whatever she felt for Nick, it wasn't anything that Veronica should feel threatened by.

"Was she in one of her moods?" her grandmother asked.

"Worse," Veronica said with a sigh.

She got the message. When Patty got the attention that Veronica selfishly wanted all to herself, it was usually because Nick sensed that she needed cheering up.