Cassian

"Miss Archeron, would now be a good time to map out the house?" Cassian glared at his brother, of course he would interrupt the conversation when he finally managed to turn it in the direction of Mr Mandray. Nesta was no fool and had him running in circles while he tried to hear the eldest twin's opinion on the man. "Only the upper floor today, the attic rooms are for the in-house servants so we'll have to wait for their rooms to be empty during the day."

"And downstairs?" Azriel offered his arm to Nesta, the picture of perfect human grace. Aside from the bat wings of course but Nesta seemed to appreciate the gesture. "We use the downstairs all day so it's cleaned during the later evening."

What pains these human servants have to endure. Something about it grates on him. All this wealth the Archerons now have, and how quickly they seem to have forgotten their past. But he had observed the sisters earlier. Nesta had commanded those working for her with an elegant grace. There were no pleases or thank yous, no friendly endearments but she respected them.

Elain seemed to swing between having her favourite gardeners who she conversed with like friends and pretending that the servants don't even exist. Azriel shoots him look, as though he can hear the judgemental thoughts. Cassian does nothing but grin at the surprisingly social male as he leaves the room with Nesta in tow.

Map out the house, that's all they had to do. Azriel's spies in the mortal realm had picked up on human etiquette regarding the queen's visits. There was a pattern. They would request a specific and accurate map, detailing every wall, door and piece of furniture. They would then expect to be offered a meal- one that they could refuse as an act of power and some ridiculous symbol of their hosts catering to them because they were inferior to the Queens.

Cassian was sure there were a few other things on Azriel's list. It wasn't exactly confirmed how many of those requests were not just rumours but both he and Azriel had jumped at the chance to be in the human realm.

Rhys had too but... well he was High Lord, he couldn't exactly go gallivanting across Pyrithian on a whim. Nor could he just run from Feyre when things started getting tough. Cassian wasn't privy to the details of their latest argument but he was under the impression that it had something to do with Feyre's family and her expectations from life as a result of her upbringing.

Essentially Rhys had said she was still too human for the Fae realm.

That went down brilliantly.

"I thought you would be mapping out the house." Cassian peers up at the female - woman - settling in the armchair opposite him. There was something softer about Isabella in this light, she had appeared so imperious and proud when he first met her. "Azriel has it covered and I've never been good with the pencil."

She makes a noise of understanding and inexplicably Cassian's cheeks burn with shame. His lack of artistic ability, and terrible handwriting was yet another reminder of the shortcomings as a result of his upbringing. Yet another reminder of the Illyrian Bastard he was.

"I assumed you worked as the High Lord's General, correct?" He nods, frowning slightly at the topic of conversation. "I thought map skills would have been a given?"

"I can read and use maps fine, it's just the-" He waves his hand unable to find the words to explain the finer art skills he lacks. Isabella nods again, a small furrow forming on her brow. "Then why would it matter? You are a General, it would be a waste of your time and skill to complete a task that Cartographers have trained to do for years."

Because it's just another skill he doesn't have. Cassian tilts his head, looking at Isabella in a new light as he realises that in her own way she was trying to make him feel better. It was smart of her to point out it's not a skill he needs while emphasising the skills he does have but... he wonders why she didn't just say it outright like her twin would have.

"Oliver seemed keen to become a map wielding adventurer." He teases, voice light as Isabella playfully rolls her eyes. "My son is a curious creature, with a large imagination and I have no doubt that he will break his mother's heart one day when he decides to leave the nest."

He snorts in amusement, "I fear that is the curse of having sons."

She sighs in agreement, leaning back in her chair enough that she peers at Oliver's sleeping form. The boy was so small, small enough that Cassian found himself worrying for his health at times. Just in those odd moments when he would see a child at Illyria or Velaris. Children were rare but he was certain they were supposed to have more meat on their bones.

"He is young though." Cassian comments, wondering exactly how young he is. Isabella seems to pick up on his line of questioning for she hums and states, "He'll be five come late summer." She seems to wince, shame flickering in her eyes and Cassian's own guilt builds at thinking Isabella wasn't doing her best to keep her son healthy. "He's always been small, there were... complications with the birth because of-"

It's her turn to wave her hand helplessly. Because of his heritage. Azriel had confessed to his brothers Oliver's parentage but he had also stressed the need to keep it a secret from the sisters. Isabella must have assumed he could scent it on him, or that Azriel would have told them.

"Why don't you move back here?" The words are out before he can register what he said and Isabella has frozen. "It's not my place to ask but-"

"No it's not your place to ask." There was a quiver to her words that belied the intended viciousness of them. "And what makes you think I would want to leave my husband."

He glances at Oliver and Isabella's jaw ticks.

"My experience is that you don't cheat if you're in love with someone." He keeps his voice soft, doing his best to be understanding and putting the woman at ease. He was the last person judging her, Cassian's whole youth had been a string of shitty relationships of cheating, being cheated on and every shade of toxic in between. "I get it, I've lived a long time. Experienced a lot of things and this isn't-"

"You are a male and a fae at that." She states, closing her eyes briefly as though gathering her strength. "It's not the same Cassian. I am content with Tomas, that's more than anyone in this village can say of their partners. We don't have the same choices here as you do in the Night Court."

It's the way she tries to come off as understanding. As though they are amiable friends, as though she's merely assuring him of a fact he already knows. As if he were naive and couldn't see the bruise on her wrist.

Someone is going to seriously get hurt at this rate.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:

Isabella

The males decided to stay the night, choosing to finish the map during the next day when the servants had a long-weekend off. Nesta did her best to give the servants regular holidays, to keep them happy and loyal. That and the fact they needed the house empty more and more to house their fae guests.

Cassian had seemed disappointed last night and guilt gnawed at her chest as a result. He had wanted her to talk ill of Tomas. To confess she didn't love her husband. Isabella had never pretended to love the man but she had been civil with him, they had a good life, it was just the odd moments of rage. Of unforgivable mistakes on both sides.

Breakfast was tense. It only seemed to be Ollie, who had decided that he and Azriel were best of friends, who seemed unaffected. He was explaining some elaborate story revolving around Bat-Bat and his friends. Isabella had a sinking suspicion that Bat-bat's friends might have been the winged males.

Nesta was glaring at where Azriel quietly played with her son at the breakfast table. She didn't tell Isabella about whatever she and Azriel spoke about during their tour but there had been a rage simmering in Nesta's eyes when she returned to the room. Rage and guilt so Isabella couldn't help but assume Azriel had asked about Oliver, his father or maybe Tomas.

Especially since Nesta had only increased her pointed questions.

"We should have finished the bulk of the map by the afternoon." Cassian stated, clearly trying to break the uncomfortable silence. "It'll just be the finer details after that."

"Good," Nesta stated, rising from her seat without taking her glare off of Azriel. "Shall we continue, Azriel."

The male in question seemed reluctant to leave the safety of Oliver behind and Isabella got the impression that the male was trying to sooth old childhood wounds. Nevertheless, he murmured his goodbyes to an upset Oliver before hastily following after Nesta who had already left the room.

"Can I go with them?" Oliver asked, voice small and adorable as he tried to do a pleading puppy eye expression but Isabella was practically immune to that look now. "They need to do adult work, Ollie."

"I can be quiet." He really couldn't though.

"Am I not good enough to be your friend, Tiny?" Cassian drawled, nudging a wing out to knock Oliver's chair and both mother and son froze at the movement. "You have wings."

"Yep."

"Why do you have wings?"

"I was born with them, my mother and father had wings." Cassian stated, not taking offensive to the curious child's questions. "The same way you don't have wings because your mother and father didn't."

Isabella tensed at the mention of Oliver's father. They want to know who the father is. It makes sense, he had to have been a prominent figure, since it would take a fair bit of sway or power to cross the wall so freely.

"and your wings are like bat-bat?" Cassian paused, not understanding the full meaning of the question until Isabella pointedly glanced at the toy Bat. Cassian chuckled and the sound had Isabella straightening in her seat. "Similar to bat-bat's wings, yes."

"No one here has wings though?" Isabella had never seen her son talk so openly with a stranger and an uncomfortable lump formed in her throat, she had always worried he wasn't social enough for someone his age. Kids should be asking questions and making friends but there are very few children in the village for him to do that with. But here Cassian is, nodding as though her son has stated some impressive discovery. "That's because we live in different places. Where I live everyone has wings."

"In a court. Like grandpa's friends." Oliver nodded to himself and Cassian blinked owlishly.

"Not like that, Ollie." Isabella interrupts with a soft smile, handing her son a bowl of cheese cubes. "Grandpa circles in the upper-court which is a group of people who work together. They don't always live in the same place... Cassian lives in the Night Court, that's the name of their home."

"Oh." He aggressively nods before stuffing his cheeks with cheese. For a moment she and Cassian share an amused glance at the boy's antics. "Niiiight court."

A/N: Oliver and the Batboys having a brotp is my new favourite thing