MAGNUS DAYNE
Vampire
Posts: 82
Played by:
Julia
"You waste time trying to get people to love you, you'll end up the most popular dead man in town."
Last seen Apr 7, 2024 18:39:20 GMT
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Post by MAGNUS DAYNE on Dec 13, 2022 21:40:22 GMT
━ evil notions come free ━ AFTER THEY’D FOUND PARKING, MAGNUS walked next to Linc in their large group. Hannya seemed unimpressed with the grand castle, Kit looked mildly interested, and Linc… well, Magnus hoped his entire outlook on this trip would change. At least for this part, as it was terribly important to him, and something he wanted to share with Linc. Almost like a merging of his two sons; neither were his blood, but he loved them both like family.
As they approached Windsor Castle, Magnus shifted to Hector’s side and slowed the group, ripping two tickets from the bunch he’d kept safe. He handed Hector the larger amount, “We’ll be in the Lower Ward at the Chapel; we’ll circle around and meet inside later on,” and, with a nod, shifted his hand to Lincoln’s back to guide him in another direction.
“We’re ‘eaded to St. George’s Chapel. Bear with the ‘istory lesson, eh?” The gravel walkway shifted and crunched underneath their shoes, and excited heartbeats raced in the chests of other tourists passing by. Still, there was nothing louder than the onslaught of emotions hitting Magnus all at once. This was home, spiritually, in more ways than one. “William the Conquerer built it more than two ‘undred years before I was born. Edward the Third rebuilt it as a stone fortress; it's where we lived in th’end.” Sucking in a breath he didn’t exactly need, Magnus led Linc towards the grand chapel. Eventually, the loose gravel became a paved walkway, and the beasts carved in stone over the doors came into view.
“Most of it ‘as been restored and renovated since I was ‘ere last━especially after th’fire.” He sighed sadly, as if re-experiencing the pain he’d felt when he’d heard the news. “They still pay homage to Edward, though.” He slowed for a moment, pointing to the unicorn along the row of animals over the door.
He passed their tickets to the man at the door and walked in, keeping his voice somewhat low, “I saw Edward the same way I see you… except ‘e listened to my advice.” Magnus teased, glancing at Linc with a soft smile. He’d mentioned pieces in passing, never the full story, just references to who he’d been once upon a time. He hoped Linc would start to understand now. “And I raised him.” He knew sharing this would open him up to jabs when they discussed Philippa later on, but he wanted to be honest with the boy.
“I want to show ya… through ‘ere, forget the statues.” Though it’d changed aesthetically, the structure was the same━mostly. Damn Queen Victoria. He went forward, ignoring Charlotte’s statue and the tombs of sovereigns that came after Magnus’ time as a knight. He went into the Quire and slowed, eyes drifting over the stalls behind the steps and rows of blue-cushioned seats. He was on the Sovereign's side, he knew as much, and found his coat of arms hanging as a flag in the row with the others. There was a plaque erected for tourists, reading,
Some 800 stall plates adorn the stalls of the Quire, with the earliest, that of Sir Magnus Dayne and Sir Ralph Basset, Lord Basset of Drayton dating from c.1350.
“Edward created the Order of the Garter, inspired by King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. I told ‘im too many stories as a child,” Chuckling, he approached one of the security guards standing at the edge. Normally, the public wasn’t allowed close, but he had to see his stall━and he had to show Linc.
“You’ll let us through ‘ere.” He compelled the man, who obediently opened the rope and allowed Magnus and Linc through. He went up the short steps and along until he found his own stall plate. A griffin stood tall, bathed in a blue background, while he himself was red. On the right side was a hand, and on the left was a sword. Tears swam in his eyes as he stared at it, remembering the day it’d been gifted to him. “We weren’t wealthy,” He began, trying to blink away the flood of emotions that continued to come despite his efforts, “Edward gifted my family a coat of arms because of my loyalty to ‘im and ‘is family.” Magnus grinned wide, swelling with pride at the original plate. “A griffin for death-defyin’ bravery. They all wondered ‘ow an old man held ‘is own for so long.” His smile turned sad then, faltering at the edges.
LINCOLN CROWNE | no notes.
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LINCOLN CROWNE
Vampire
Posts: 86
Age:
25
Occupation:
Emerald City Bartender
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Cassie Luanna
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Apr 27, 2024 15:36:19 GMT
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Post by LINCOLN CROWNE on Jan 5, 2023 20:03:03 GMT
Linc shrugged his shoulders as he walked along next to Magnus, glad to be out in the air again. He’d give it to him and Hector, the limo had been far more comfortable than the old route masters the school used to get to take them on their field trips. It had been three to a seat then, kids crammed in so tight that there was no escaping the middle when trouble kicked off. Glancing aside at the others, worryingly well behaved (maybe the warnings Magnus and Hector had growled at Buckingham Palace had stuck for the minute), he realised maybe it wasn’t so different. If it did kick off in the car, or in the plane heading back home, it’d be a half dozen seriously powerful people in a very small space, with him the baby of the group – AKA the one voted most likely to be battered at the hands of the others. Magnus wouldn’t let that happen though.
His lips twitched into one of those faint smiles as he glanced over at Magnus. He’d protected him from the minute he’d seen those vamps dump him on the couch, tossed aside like a used tissue. Once upon a time he’d done that for someone else, the protecting bit at least. Magnus had told him the stories, Jo adding bits and pieces that somehow made it more real and weirder all at the same time. A knight tasked with protecting a future King of England. It still sounded nuts, especially since it was almost impossible to picture Magnus – or Hector for that matter – riding through the gates of the Castle clanking with armour, like the knights in the books he’d read as a kid. Maybe he still had that in him, that he wanted to protect people, be that white knight.
Be a dad. That part of it hadn’t gone over his head so badly. Linc shoved his hands in his pockets, staring up the drive towards the castle buildings, or gate houses, or whatever bits they were all meant to be. He’d been deaf to almost everything but the sound of other people’s blood whooshing through his veins in that alleyway, but Magnus had made sure he’d heard and yeah, some of it had stuck.
Magnus’ hand landed on his back, leaving Linc’s brow furrowing as he looked up at him. He glanced past Magnus then, at where the others were peeling off. They weren’t going with them. Was this gonna be some sort of bonding thing? A father and son bit of the trip where he got to impress on him all the things he’d learned here as a boy. His lips twitched again as he looked back, just a hint of a smirk. ”You’re gonna tell me about how you took your first steps in the church?” he asked. It hadn’t exactly been like that at Buckingham Palace, all the joking – and worse – in the car about Nelson giving away to the sort of grim and respectful quiet that came with funerals (not that he’d ever been to more than the one). This felt a little different, as though they’d got the mourning part of the way first. This was more … let’s show you where I was when I was a mouthy little brat just like you. Not that Magnus would ever put it that way.
The history part hadn’t been entirely a joke, Magnus was launching into one. Linc raked his teeth over his lip, not joking anymore as they got closer to the chapel. That quiet, dusty feeling was in the air, like it had been when they’d stepped inside Buckingham Palace, like you were somehow going back hundreds of years. ”In the actual castle?” Linc asked quietly. He glanced over his shoulder again just before they reached the doors, the same ones that Magnus had probably pulled open as a choir boy in the 5th century. Or maybe not, if the rest of the story was true. ”I remember seeing it on the news. Mrs Graham had a telly.” And a fondness for the Royal Family that almost seemed funny now. Plates propped up in one of those glass fronted cabinets in the living room, the Queen and Prince Phillip looking about a hundred years younger than they both had at the end on them.
He tipped his head back as Magnus gestured above the door, frowning at the unicorn, unable to figure out what on Earth that had to do with Edward. If the man at the door was bothered by Magnus taking his job and giving out the history lesson he didn’t look it. Linc nodded to him, walking in deferentially behind Magnus. ”Like a son?” Or a problem to solve, although Magnus had thrown that idea back at him in that alleyway. It was different, like Magnus said now, Edward hadn’t been the same sort of brat, although in his day it was probably beaten into them from birth to respect their elders.
It felt like there was more to the story, but Magnus was already leading him through, past a statue of some woman he didn’t recognise and tombs that were probably filled with nothing but Royal dust at this point. ”We’re not here to pay respects to someone else … to him?” It wouldn’t have surprised him if Edward was buried there, the place was … amazing, if you were into all that architectural stuff, the ceiling vaulted with all these lines like stone spiderwebs, either side of it lined with bright flags. Magnus seemed to know where he was going through it all, leading him towards a roped off section at the back. ”And now you’re tellin’ them to me? I don’t think you’ve told me about the Round Table, I would’ve remembered that.” He wasn’t sure he’d heard about the Order of the Garter either. Hannya would’ve cackled about it, calling them all kinky, but did they even do kinky back in the Middle Ages?
The look Linc shot the man as they scurried past the rope and up the stairs was apologetic. It had been under orders, and not ones given by him, but he still felt bad for being in a spot they obviously weren’t meant to be in. Linc looked at the plaque thing on the wall, frowning, suddenly concerned as he caught the glimmer of tears in Magnus’ eyes. Was he crying over it? Had he been right about Edward being buried here? ”That’s yours? You’re on the walls of Windsor Castle?” Linc asked hollowly. He reached out, almost brushing his fingers against it before he realised that was probably why they had the rope up in the first place.
Linc drew his hand back, then touched his dad’s back the same way he had his outside, like Magnus needed the comforting touch as his smile seemed to start to break. He’d reached a pretty decent age before he’d been turned, maybe, he’d never really asked. In those days people got old fast, died young … except for when they were immortal. ”He appreciated you,” Linc said quietly, half talking about himself cause he could without this being a thing here. ”Wanted to say some sort of thanks. Was that … after? Jo said she left a couple of years after, were you still here then?” At some point it had to have been obvious, even if it everybody looked ancient at 25. If the plague was coming through or you were getting slashed with swords in every battle and somehow bouncing up again someone had to notice eventually.
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MAGNUS DAYNE
Vampire
Posts: 82
Played by:
Julia
"You waste time trying to get people to love you, you'll end up the most popular dead man in town."
Last seen Apr 7, 2024 18:39:20 GMT
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Post by MAGNUS DAYNE on Feb 1, 2023 0:08:42 GMT
━ evil notions come free ━ “AYE,” MAGNUS GLANCED AT LINC AND smiled, nodding curtly. “In the actual castle.” He confirmed, moving inside with the boy, already beginning to relate Linc to Edward.
His next question was… silly, but Magnus could understand it took a lot for a boy like him to accept that family was supposed to love you unfailingly. Instead of speaking, Magnus only smiled and rubbed his back, hoping that was an answer enough on its own━yes, of course Linc was like his son; that was the entire point of why Magnus tried so hard, and why he would never give up.
In the Quire, Magnus found the stalls the same as he would’ve while wearing a blindfold: in seconds. He hadn’t come here before to find achievements (and memories) of a past life, but they almost called to him━leading him home. “No,” He spoke quietly as they climbed the steps past the security guard. “Edward and Philippa are buried in Westminster Abbey. We’ll ‘ead there next… if you’re up for it.” Linc hadn’t much of a choice during all this planning, and Magnus was likely to take him there anyway, but he wanted Linc to want to spend time with him. He wanted to bare his history to the boy to show that he knew what he was talking about when he tried to help, and that his past wasn’t all Knighthood and Priest-like behaviour.
Heading along the row of stalls, Magnus smiled and shook his head, glancing over his shoulder at Linc. “I can tell ya those stories if ya want, but now you kids’ve got those cell phones… they’ll tell ya anythin’ you want t’know, even things ya don’t. In those days, if Edward didn’t ‘ave a sword in ‘is ‘and, I told stories to keep ‘im entertained.” It was a simpler time then━better in many ways, but failing in others. He was thankful for electricity and plumbing, but not so much for those evil little devices. But alas, one could not develop without the other.
Stilling in front of his stall plate, Magnus felt all the emotions rush up in a wave of what was primarily grief. He remembered the day it’d been gifted to him, so clearly now it made him sick. He couldn’t bring himself to answer Linc. Magnus only nodded, his reaction time slow as he watched Linc’s hand reach out for it. The boy was the only living person he’d let near it but, truthfully, it didn’t belong to Magnus anymore. His own hand came up, ready to stop the boy, but Linc had already policed himself.
Magnus’ hand fell to his side again as he felt Linc’s own at his back. His eyes fell shut, squeezing, waiting until the surge finally passed and no longer overwhelmed him. When he opened his eyes again, however, the tears remained.
He nodded slowly. He knew Edward appreciated him; that’s why Magnus’ betrayal felt so awful even seven hundred years later. The guilt was something he thought he’d let go of, but being here━seeing this all in person again━made him painfully aware that it was still just lingering under the surface.
And he understood Linc’s double meaning, too━he was old enough to recognize it. He offered the boy a small smile in return, glassy eyes flicking to his other son. Magnus lifted his hand again and laid it on Linc’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before it dropped once more, almost as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up.
“Yes, just after.” Magnus sighed. “I had another for a while, something simple his father assigned me. Edward gifted me this as a present for a birthday we weren’t entitled to celebrate.” His sad smile returned, “Only nobles celebrated the anniversaries of their births. Edward saw me as ‘is father; I was the only one left, but━as I said━none of ‘em raised ‘im.” Edward II and Roger Mortimer were pisspoor substitutes, especially as Mortimer was his mother’s consort and ended up dying at Edward’s hands when the boy was old enough. That had been a victorious day.
“I didn’t leave until Philippa’s death.” He swallowed hard, remembering vividly how he found her in her room with a stake still in her heart. “When it was clear someone ‘ad discovered us and were huntin’ vampires. I was turned at forty-five; I left nearin’ seventy. Johanna was long gone by then; we’d all thought she’d died.” He sighed, finding himself back in the cycle of wishing things could’ve been different, though he knew that never worked. After seven centuries of mourning, one would think he would’ve learned. “My departure was long overdue, as ya can imagine. I couldn’t leave… per’aps this conversation’s better left for the Abbey.” Though it would be strange to talk about his infidelity with Philippa (who was essentially his daughter-in-law) over his son’s tomb.
He slipped his hand up and patted Linc’s back, his smile finding genuine happiness and slowly expanding with it. “‘Istory remembers Edward as one of the many great kings… they still ‘ave the Order of the Garter today, and ‘e changed England for the better. ‘E was my son in every way except blood, and I loved ‘im.” His eyes went back to the plate, to the griffin and all the memories encapsulated in this piece of metal. “I know I didn’t raise ya, Lincoln, and I don’t expect ya to become King anytime soon,” He joked lightly, “But I’ve only ever wanted ya t’learn every lesson I taught Edward. T’ave a good ‘ead on yer shoulders… and know that I’ll love and support you no matter ‘ow many times ya fail.” It was okay if Linc wasn’t ready to admit their bond out loud, and Magnus wouldn’t feel any qualms if the boy decided he’d rather stay quiet.
But Magnus felt it imperitive to let Linc know the truth and remind him of it so he wouldn’t ever feel unloved or unwanted━never again.
LINCOLN CROWNE | no notes.
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LINCOLN CROWNE
Vampire
Posts: 86
Age:
25
Occupation:
Emerald City Bartender
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Cassie Luanna
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Apr 27, 2024 15:36:19 GMT
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Post by LINCOLN CROWNE on Feb 19, 2023 18:25:35 GMT
Their getting to know one another hadn’t exactly with a handshake and exchange of names. That was for normal people who met out on the street or in an office somewhere. Friendly, ephemeral stuff that didn’t come with a ’I couldn’t leave ya there ta die at the hands of those evil bastards, so I made you into an immortal blood sucker’. Stuck with Magnus after, when he was still shaking and coming down from that first glut of blood, the stories had started to spill. His own had been a sad little story of shitty parents and a man who’d taken advantage of the entire family in one way or another. Magnus’ was a fairy tale, complete with a knight and an eternal life that’d probably been a lot more harrowing than he’d made it sound. It was the sort of thing they made films out of, although everyone knew those things were bullshit. Except they weren’t.
Ser Dayne, strutting his stuff through Buckingham Palace, having breakfast at the King’s elbow, fighting in battles that’d probably involved lances and chariots – whatever they actually used then – rattling through the actual castle in his armour. Jo had been around here at some point too, she’d told him that, how Magnus and her husband had been in and out of the kitchen. It all seemed like it could’ve come straight out of some kid’s book that they were flogging in the gift shop here. Follow the life of a knight at the castle. Only most of those knights had actually died back in the 14th century, they didn’t turn up seven hundred years later for a little trip home.
Magnus was indulging him with his answers, Linc could see that, but they weren’t really stupid when all of this was so wild. If Magnus could understand what was like growing up the shitty way he had, then he could make some effort to understand this, especially since parts of it were obviously still raw for him. The only other time he’d seen Magnus this cut up had been after what had happened in the alleyway, tears close to the surface, something sentimental in it – although then it had been overlaid with a gleam of temper, and fear for the safety of his son.
Going to see the grave of the one who’d held the title before him felt a little weird to say the least, but Linc was nodding at Magnus’ offer. If it was gonna help him, then yeah, he’d do it. Something cathartic before they pushed on with this trip – probably without the others lingering, knowing Hannya she’d want to do something to the grave of a King and that didn’t bear thinking about. ”Sure, I’d be up for that,” Linc agreed quietly. It’d be tying all of this together. The start of Magnus’ journey of fatherhood, and maybe where it’d end now. The same with his journey of being a knight, that one being immortalised on the walls of this place. Linc huffed out a breath, his lip curling faintly. ”You’d think I’ve never seen a book – or you know watched a movie about it.” It wasn’t like he’d actually had a cell phone to scour Wiki with until Magnus had given him one. What would Google even throw out if he searched Magnus’ name? Linc swallowed hard, a lump suddenly lodging in his throat. What would he find if he searched his own name?
Lincoln Crowne had died in London, was reborn with a fresh start thanks to the man next to him. He supposed Magnus had done the same somewhere here, only he’d carried on with his life, remaining who he’d been in a way, immortalised here to look back on now in a way that seemed to have him welling up. Stopping himself from reaching out to literally touch that past, Linc settled his hand on his dad’s back, watching the way the gesture had him squeezing his eyes tight shut, like he was fighting something back. He left his hand there, catching Magnus’ nod. ”That’s pretty amazin’,” he murmured honestly. He was too jaded for much to impress him, but he wasn’t entirely immune to what honestly was amazing, that wide eyed kid still hidden somewhere the smart mouthed young man.
It still felt a little too soon to stand there and start thanking Magnus for everything he had done, especially when he was still on the fence about some of it. Linc figured Magnus kinda got it though, that small smile touching his lips again, his hand squeezing his shoulder. Linc gave his back an awkward pat before he let his hand fall back to his side. Magnus had a whole life here, one that’d stretched for decades. ”Birthdays weren’t a thing? That sounds…” He almost said fucked, but this wasn’t the sort of place where you did it and Magnus was already explaining. ”You raised him,” Linc adjusted, although that felt a little odd since it’d been Edward’s wife who’d turned Magnus and other things. Magnus hadn’t just been a piece on a chessboard for them.
It had to have felt almost impossible to move on from that when his whole life had been here. Hadn’t been the same when he’d done it. Twenty odd years split between a poky little council flat and a pit of a club wasn’t exactly the sort of thing you wanted to hold onto, Mrs Graham had really been all he’d wanted to hold onto and she’d been gone too fast, leaving a hole right through him until Magnus had appeared. ”So you went to save your own life. You musta looked good for your age,” he quipped, glancing up at Magnus. He definitely looked older than Jo, but surely someone must’ve started realising that the old man amongst them wasn’t sprouting a full head of grey hair and was still springing up spritely onto a horse.
Nodding, Linc agreed to shelve the conversation for now. There was probably enough to the story to keep them going for weeks and honestly that was just a moment in time for Magnus. One corner of his mouth lifted as he saw Magnus’ expression finally shifting into something happy again. ”He did all that with you at his side. You probably should be in a few more of those history books.” But people like Magnus and Jo never would be in them, would they? It wasn’t like the royal blood had run in their veins.
Magnus’ didn’t run in his veins either, but he’d been more of a dad to him in the last couple of years than his own had been in more than a decade. He knew it too. Even with his jokes about him becoming King, Linc felt his chest going tight as Magnus laid the love on thick. It should’ve been choking maybe, something he tried to throw off like a duvet that was too heavy, but he didn’t. ”I dunno if I can be just like him,” Linc admitted, his gaze ticking back up to Magnus. ”I can try … and I’m gonna get up because of you every time I end up fucking up. I … never had a parent that wanted to do that before. Mrs Graham would’ve said it … but you’re definitely not her … she had more hair…” The joke went dry in his throat as he nodded, already taking a half step back. ”Thank you. For all of it.” Linc wasn’t sure if he could say that one word back … not yet. It wasn’t like he’d really had much of it before. He’d said it to Mrs Graham near the end, like a promise when he’d hugged her goodbye every night, but she wouldn’t have remembered, hadn’t even remembered him. Not like Magnus, in a thousand years, maybe he’d be here with his next son, telling him the story of the two he’d had before.
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MAGNUS DAYNE
Vampire
Posts: 82
Played by:
Julia
"You waste time trying to get people to love you, you'll end up the most popular dead man in town."
Last seen Apr 7, 2024 18:39:20 GMT
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Post by MAGNUS DAYNE on Apr 3, 2023 20:54:18 GMT
━ evil notions come free ━ HE LIKED THAT LINCOLN HAD GROWN enough to truly appreciate the stories Magnus told him now. At some point, the young boy at his side would’ve had a rude and sarcastic quip for everything, finding nothing important in any of this. He was proud of the kid━his second son.
Even now, his jokes weren’t intended to be hurtful. Magnus half-nodded, then chuckled lightly, glancing down at Linc. “Aye, and I should ‘ave left, but there were a hundred reasons to stay. I kept my title as ‘Ead Knight because nobody could question my strength, despite my age. After Philippa passed… none of those reasons mattered.” He was dragging the conversation down again after Linc had made a joke to lighten it, though how could Magnus not in this place?
They were all just his stories. He was sure there were a few that had been passed on, inspiring modern tales of a now-nameless knight who survived despite his age and the odds stacked against him. “Ah, per’aps, but Edward is the one who made the decisions in th’end. I just led ‘im down the path I thought was right.” Which was all he could do for Linc, though he had hundreds more years of wisdom under his belt now. He hoped Linc understood the insinuation. “Though, I ‘ave been mentioned in a few, when people truly do their research.” Magnus smiled slyly, giving Lincoln a soft, playful nudge.
Perhaps the love would be too much for Lincoln. It was hard for someone who’d never properly received it to find themselves deserving of it later on. Nevertheless, he had to ensure Linc knew it. It wasn’t enough to assume or hope he picked up on it. Magnus loved him like he was blood, and Linc had to understand that that sort of love came without consequences or conditions. Unfortunately for the boy, he never encountered it unless it wasn’t from blood.
Mrs. Graham was also different. She cared for a child that couldn’t care for himself, one who needed an adult around to ensure he was clothed and fed. Magnus had to guide a new vampire who likely wouldn’t adapt without help, but Lincoln wasn’t a baby━they could have separated by now. Only, Magnus wanted to help. Taking on a young adult was a different story, but Magnus didn’t regret it for a second. He only wished there had been another way to save Linc’s life that day.
“Edward ‘ad far more restin’ on ‘is shoulders.” Magnus sighed softly, trying to find the most tactful way to word this. “Your burdens are just as important to your own life, Linc, but they won’t affect an entire country. They do affect others, though, and that’s all ya have ta remember. I don’t expect ya t’be just like ‘im.” He smiled softly, sadly, at his son. “So long as you’re tryin’, I’ll be ‘ere.” And that was a promise he’d never break.
Instead of a “you’re welcome” in response, Magnus reached out and squeezed the boy’s shoulder, still smiling. He didn’t expect a declaration of love or adoration in response, and it was perfectly fine if Linc didn’t feel comfortable enough to say it yet. All that mattered was he held the knowledge that it was true.
“Ya don’t ‘ave ta thank me for bein’ a father to ya, Linc. You deserve one.” He patted Lincoln’s shoulder softly, and regarded his stall plate for a while longer in silence. He didn’t often visit home, especially not now, with a boy under his protection and a woman waiting for him, and so he knew it would be a long time until he saw all his old memories in person once again. Perhaps that was for the best, though he would enjoy this while it lasted.
Eventually, they rejoined the group for the tour within the castle, and carried on with it, though the other guides seemed quite annoyed at Magnus’ own knowledge and interjections.
The ride back to Hector’s took about an hour, and Magnus ignored most of the people in the car while he sat with Linc, telling tales of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table━the kind he used to tell to Edward. By the end of the journey, he noticed a few others had begun to listen in, and Magnus found himself thinking: I may be an old man, but I still got it.
They dropped everyone else at Hector’s flat, and then Magnus instructed the driver to take them directly to Westminster Abbey. A feeling grew in the pit of the old vampire’s stomach, one he hadn’t felt for what might have been centuries.
He would be facing them again for the first time since he left. Though they weren’t alive, weren’t truly there to know, it felt just as daunting. Perhaps their ghosts lurked, though that was a worse reality━the idea that their souls hadn’t moved on. Philippa’s never would, perhaps, but Edward deserved nothing less than an eternity in Heaven.
Upon arriving at the Abbey, Magnus (forever a patriot) pulled his membership from his pocket and presented it, allowing them entry without the use of compulsion. He flashed Lincoln a small grin as they were welcomed back by the ticket handler, and stopped almost immediately to admire the Coronation Chair behind a locked fence to their right. “Edward’s grandfather ‘ad this put together.” He motioned to it, feeling a swell of pride for his country build in his chest. It was nicer than the impending guilt. “Used in every coronation since.” The pride began to die, though, and under his breath, he added a grumbled, “Now, Charles’ arse will score and ruin it forever.” But he could still picture his son sitting there, his face stoic and concentrated as he was crowned, and Magnus’ eyes welled again, just as they had that day.
“Through th’Nave,” He guided, as the Church was set up similarly to the chapel they’d visited only an hour earlier. Wooden chairs in rows sat on each side, littered with tourists taking pictures and staring at the golden arches behind the communion table━as if it had any meaning to them. Around the table and through the golden arches, they passed under the small structure and found themselves in another Quire. This one was setup almost identical to the one that housed his stall plate, though no flags hung from the ceiling, and there was nothing of note in the stalls behind the red-cushioned wooden chairs except a few names of some important people. “The Quire,” He instructed, and then motioned to the next area directly in front.
“The High Altar.” To the right were rows of more uncomfortable-looking wooden chairs, and a plethora of tourists, only a handful of whom were brave enough to venture up the few steps. “All coronations ‘appen right there.” He slowed, standing a few feet behind a group of tourists, his eyes trained on the cross sitting atop the table. Magnus made the sign of the cross over himself, his eyes flicking across the structure. “Some weddin’s, too, but not theirs. Edward’s mother and consort were de facto rulers at th’time of their marriage. After he killed Roger Mortimer, though, we piled in ‘ere for ‘is coronation. I stood right over there… where that bald man with the green bum bag is now.” He scoffed, motioning to the left side of the upper floor, where the man leaned back so far Magnus thought he might fold over the wrong way. He was staring open-mouthed at the wall.
“This way.” Magnus continued their short tour, knowing they were nearing his son’s tomb shortly. Much of Westminster Abbey had changed over the years, but he had kept up with it━he was a member, after all━and he knew his way around. He was sure where they’d put his son and ex-lover, as their final resting places had never been altered.
To the left of the High Altar was a long corridor, and turning right through it brought them past two large stone structures that faced one another on either side. One for John Earl Ligonier, and another for James Wolfe. These were relatively new additions (to Magnus, at least).
Before they reached the end of the hallway, there was a short, wooden staircase on the right, and two feet from the base was an unmarked coffin. A small sign proclaimed it was the Shrine of St. Edward the Confessor. “Different Edward,” Magnus added, as he wasn’t confident with Linc’s history knowledge, and he knew it could all become quite confusing. The sign also stated it was a highly fragile area and not open to sightseeing, only private prayer. A rope hung across the staircase, and a staff member was planted at the base. “You will let us through ‘ere, and clear out any other visitors in this area.” He stated plainly, compelling the man just as he had at Windsor Castle.
The security guard allowed them to pass without hesitation, clipping the rope closed and following them up to ensure nobody else was in the small area. It was far quieter up there, almost as though it was closed off from the rest of the Abbey.
At the top of the stairs, Magnus immediately walked in and turned around, as there was a tomb to the right of the entrance. Truthfully, he was putting his back to what he knew lay on the other side of the Shrine. “My Edward’s grandfather,” He mumbled, nodding to the large brown box, undecorated save for the small, plastic note beside it, which labelled it as the tomb of King Edward I. “‘E died two months before I became a knight. Threw a spanner in the works for my education, but it worked out in th’end. No one could figure out why such a great King was followed by a complete knob, but we endured.” Magnus stayed there for a moment, bowing his head respectfully. And then he sucked in a deep breath as though he needed it━as though it would calm his nerves━before turning and walking slowly past the Shrine. “Finally somethin’ older than I am,” He commented idly, jokingly, though it felt uncomfortable considering the circumstances.
His steps grew hesitant, drawn out despite the short space. Directly across from Edward I, on the opposite side of this level, was King Richard II’s tomb. Magnus nodded again respectfully at his great-grandson (though not through blood) and slowly turned, taking a few steps along. Beside Richard was his son.
A bronze tomb with a golden face on top, one that perhaps didn’t look at all remotely familiar to Linc or anyone else who passed, was easily recognizable to Magnus. He simply looked like an older version of the boy Magnus had raised and protected from his birth. He stopped there, a hand coming up to shield his eyes as they filled with tears, then dropping to his mouth to ensure his grief stayed silent. It rolled him anew, as fresh as the day he’d gotten word of his son’s passing. His hand brushed down his beard, slowly falling back to his side. “He was my son.” He croaked. It was worse than seeing his stall plate━that was all about him. But this… beneath this layer of metal were the bones of his child, the one he’d betrayed.
There was a Latin inscription on the edge of his tomb, just below his body and above where it sealed to the base. Magnus reached out, unable to help himself, and ran his thumb along the words. Quietly, he translated: “‘Ere is the glory of the English, the paragon of past kings, the model of future kings, a merciful king, the peace of the peoples, Edward the third fulfilling the jubilee of his reign, the unconquered leopard, powerful in war like a Maccabee. While he lived prosperously, ‘is realm lived again in honesty. ‘E ruled mighty in arms; now in ‘Eaven let ‘im be a king.” His voice broke into a soft sob at the end, his eyes squeezing closed. He stepped away for a moment, reining himself in before he proceeded.
“I want ya t’understand… I didn’t willingly…” He wasn’t sure if Linc had put it together by now━because Philippa had turned him, and her death caused his overdue departure━but, nonetheless, Magnus wanted the boy to hear the story from him. In full, and as truthful as he could make it. “When Philippa arrived…” Magnus began again, watery blue eyes finding her tomb only a few feet away. It felt wrong to tell the story here, even worse than standing in front of his stall plate, but he’d promised himself he would do it. “... When she arrived,” He began again, “We ‘ad already met her in France. Edward’s mother overthrew her ‘usband, and arranged ‘er son’s marriage to her niece. She came from France. Despite that, she was popular with everyone.” He swallowed thickly. “She wouldn’t leave me alone, though. They were married and ‘ad their first child, the Black Prince; ‘e was my grandchild in every right. I ‘elped Edward overthrow his mother’s consort, and ‘e was King. Philippa… she always looked at me like she wanted somethin’. ‘Ad her ‘ands on me whenever she could.” Magnus sighed, knowing how weak his excuses sounded now.
“She ‘ad enough one day. Told me I had t’sleep with ‘er. Philippa was… a lot younger than I was, my daughter-in-law in all senses of the word, but I… was just a man, Lincoln. A human. I know you’re only a boy, but surely ya can understand that by now.” Perhaps it was just a way to justify his behaviour. “She was a beautiful young woman who wanted me, out of all the men in ‘er vicinity, and my morals only stretch so far.” He knew this would change how Lincoln saw him, as an old man with strict principles, but he’d only become that way after enduring seven hundred years of life lessons. “So we began our affair. We were together for two years before she turned me.”
Magnus clenched his jaw, trying to speak despite his aching heart. “Apart from Edward the Fourth, ‘is children… most are mine.” His eyes flicked back to Lincoln, a sad smile playing at his lips. “I know ya think I’m an old Royalist for no reason, but… these are my descendants. Edward is said to be the most recent common ancestor, as in, all monarchs in the United Kingdom are directly related to ‘im.” But, really, to Magnus.
“I wasn’t given a choice when I was turned, either.” He explained finally, getting to the point of his long story, “Philippa slipped her blood in my wine, and snapped my neck while I was asleep. You ‘ad a choice when ya woke, though, Lincoln. Feed and become a vampire.” He remembered Linc tearing apart one of the last scum left alive after Magnus’ lecture. “When I awoke with a crick in my neck, Philippa fed me human blood mixed with wine, then she told me what we were. She ‘ad me drain a servant with ‘er next, knowin’ I couldn’t resist, knowing I wouldn’t want to. That was ‘er idea of true love, of securin’ me forever. We ‘ad twenty-two years together before she died.” And, despite all she’d done, part of his heart was still hers, and it continued to ache until this day.
LINCOLN CROWNE | sorrynotsorry
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LINCOLN CROWNE
Vampire
Posts: 86
Age:
25
Occupation:
Emerald City Bartender
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Cassie Luanna
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Apr 27, 2024 15:36:19 GMT
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Post by LINCOLN CROWNE on Apr 13, 2023 21:50:11 GMT
He’d only spent his childhood there (a blink of an eye for Magnus), but how many stories could he have told if they’d been standing in the middle of the estate. How emotional would he have gotten with a walk back through the club, to the spot where he’d died and been turned despite Magnus’ efforts? None of it could’ve been a patch on what Magnus had gone through and that was humbling. This was what he’d been forced to leave behind seven hundred years ago, not full of the desire to walk away from somewhere he’d hated. This was home, Edward had been his son and Linc suspected that he’d probably had some noble intention to die in battle once (that was what knights always talked about, wasn’t it?), but what had happened hadn’t allowed it. Maybe it’d just felt like he’d been run through with a sword when Philippa had died – it had to have been like losing a daughter.
Linc raised his hand, fingers brushing over his chest like he could feel his own beating hard against his ribs as Magnus carried on talking about fatherhood and all he’d done for Edward. If Cassie had died could he have just walked away and started over? If Magnus died, could he? That was enough to put that iron clamp around his ribs. He pushed the thought away, trying to keep that smile locked there so they both didn’t end up wallowing in that pit of grief and respect. Knowing Magnus he had the bits of those books that he featured in collected together like newspaper clippings in a scrapbook somewhere, the bits they’d gotten wrong underlined heavily in red. He rocked with Magnus’ nudge, snorting softly, although more at the impression he had in his head than Magnus’ joke.
When Magnus had taken him in he’d fought to avoid hearing every word that fell out of his mouth. It was intended to help him, but each word had been a reminder of what he’d become. He’d thrown Magnus choice, his failure to save him any other way, back in his face every chance he’d gotten. Edward probably hadn’t. Edward had been the dutiful son and maybe there’d been some jealousy there over that. Now he wouldn’t have swapped the club or where he’d ended up for a crown and a throne in some draughty castle somewhere.
Guilt had needled at him over how he’d thrown that help back in Magnus face. It pricked again at Magnus’ reassurances, like his conscience had seen this as the perfect time for him to finally show some gratitude – when Edward couldn’t anymore. ”Luckily they won’t affect an entire country. The entire place would be f-…” He winced faintly at the joke – were places like this holy enough that weren’t supposed to swear? ”…It’d be in a state.” Maybe if they asked the families of the people he killed they’d have said their loved ones were more important than any country, but that was a guilt he couldn’t keep carrying with him. He was trying to do better, and like Magnus said now…
Throat thick, Linc nodded as Magnus reassured him again, one of those work worn hands squeezing his shoulder, like a dad would do. Like his dad was doing. It was still a strange feeling and he almost shook his head to rid Magnus of the idea, but that felt wrong too. ”I do, even if I do deserve one. You didn’t have to save me, or take care of me. You chose that, and I threw it back in your face. So you deserve me actually thankin’ you for it.” And him not tossing that guilt back at Magnus like a grenade with the pin pulled the next time he slipped – he wasn’t gonna deny it could happen, he could just try to make sure it didn’t.
Gratitude probably had something to do with him actually listening as they toured the castle, laughing discretely when Magnus couldn’t help himself and had to correct the guides. ’Sorry, he’s a bit touchy about someone saying the king slept in a bed he hadn’t ever actually seen’ wasn’t gonna fly. Maybe the others had enjoyed some of it, they definitely seemed to be listening in on Magnus’ stories about Arthur and his knights on the way back, but they were probably glad that their history lessons were over for the day.
Linc watched as they streamed out of the car, not really wishing he was going with them. It was weird, but something small had shifted when they’d started to take those little peeks into the life Magnus had led before he’d been turned. Westminster Abbey felt bigger than that, kinda the way Buckingham Palace had, although back in the day strolling into it had probably just been another Thursday for Magnus. He’d lived on a different scale to how he did now.
Questions flitted through his mind as they walked in, with Magnus flashing his membership card instead of pulling a Jedi mind trick to get them in past the person handling the tickets. Had Edward’s father tapped Magnus on the shoulders with a sword here to name him ‘Sir Dayne’? Had he been Edward’s best man, standing at the head of this place, beaming as the bride had walked towards them? Linc’s brows drew together faintly as his flitting look around was drawn back to the Chair that they’d sealed up behind a fence. ”I thought you liked the Royals,” he joked. He’d liked the Queen, had mourned over her like she’d been his own daughter. He’d have said that maybe the jury was still out on Charles, but that comment about his arse made it clear that Magnus didn’t think he was the man for the job. Compared to Edward he probably wasn’t.
There were less sarcastic comments as they made their way through the Church, which, on a very basic level, looked like a scaled up version of the chapel at Windsor. Spaces were pointed out, the highlights studied quickly as they passed through, far faster than the tourists that were gawping at the place without a clue that someone who’d probably been there when they’d laid the last stone in the place was passing them by. Linc watched Magnus make the sign of the cross as they reached the Altar and hesitated for a moment before he did the same. Like Magnus had read his mind earlier, he was already talking about Edward’s wedding, not conducted here and, shit, maybe the knighting thing wasn’t that far off the truth. He’d been here while one of them had been named King. ”You gonna be here for Charles’? Linc asked, keeping his voice low as Magnus got going again. Probably not, but you know, it wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility.
They were getting into the real guts of the Abbey now, passing stones that proclaimed just who’d been important enough to be buried here. Maybe if Magnus had died in battle he’d have been there with them, some tourist glancing at it as they worked their way along to the more famous names. Like Edward – not his Edward, not yet. Linc glanced at that one and then shot a look at Magnus as he did pull his vampire-Jedi act not and told the guide to let them by. There was no point in telling Magnus they weren’t meant to. This was Magnus’ tour, what the trustees, or whatever they were, were trying to enforce here be damned.
This was where his Edward was likely to be. Quiet like he was probably expected to be, Linc looked where Magnus had encouraged him to. Edward’s grandfather, obviously another influence in Magnus’ life. ”That’s what you think’s gonna happen again? Well, the other way around - Charles takes over from Elizabeth and they end up with a complete knob?” It probably didn’t feel quite the same for Magnus, not when he wasn’t gonna have to be directly under the thumb of Charles. Still Magnus gave the old King a measure of respect before they moved on. Linc huffed out the faintest of laughs at the joke he drummed up.
It didn’t last. Like he had at Windsor, the Magnus who gleefully shot out dad jokes seemed to vanish, leaving this quiet, mournful figure in his place. Linc felt the change and swallowed down the reassurances he wanted to give him like somehow he could paper over those cracks in Magnus’ heart. He trailed after him, quiet, as focused on Magnus as he was the tomb with its mask on top – was that what they called a death mask? In just a moment Magnus was covering his eyes again, those cracks opening up wide enough to let the grief pour out. Linc stepped closer, his hand rising to settle on Magnus’ back again to steady him.
Latin wasn’t exactly on the curriculum at his school, and Wesley didn’t have enough brains or age to have tried teaching him any when he was still pretending to give a shit about him. Magnus knew it too. He stroked his thumb over the inscription on the tomb, speaking what he presumed was the translation of it out loud. A testament to a good man, a good king, one Magnus could barely bring himself to get all the way through. He stepped away rapidly at the end, his eyes closing.
Linc stood there, inches from Magnus’ other son – the one he didn’t have to live up to – but his eyes were on Magnus, not the tomb. His brows furrowed as Magnus started to talk again, that uneasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach like this was where he was suddenly gonna hear something about Edward that would blow everybody’s view of him away. Magnus didn’t willingly though… ”Whatever you did, I’m not gonna blame you for it,” Linc started. Only, by the time Magnus had described how Philippa had come into his life, how he’d helped get Edward on the throne and considered his kid as a grandchild and admitted that Philippa had sleazed over him he wasn’t so sure about the promise he wanted to keep.
He took a slow step back, his hands finding his pockets before he caught himself about to bump into the tomb and stopped. His lips had gone dry. Things between Philippa and Magnus had always seemed murky, her decision to turn him feeling like it was entirely out in left field. He’d been at the castle though, him and Jo – and he knew that Philippa had been her sire too, although seemingly with a lot less hands on action. Linc shuddered faintly at that though, it was far too close to the knuckle now. Magnus hadn’t just been bitten by the woman, he’d been seduced, with a lot less choice in the matter than he should’ve had. ”I get it,” he promised softly, not wanting to sound like he was interrupting the story. Philippa had dangled herself in front of Magnus, pushing and pushing until, like almost anybody, he’d given in – to the woman who was for all intents and purposes, his daughter-in-law.
Now there would’ve been a scandal, hell, then there likely would’ve been one if anybody had found out that most of the King’s children weren’t his. Linc’s expression softened as Magnus did, sadness seeming to flood through the lines of his face, the one Philippa must have seen the appeal in for all of that. Magnus had fathered royalty. Little flashes of light danced at the edges of his vision, like all the expectations he’d built up around Magnus and this history lesson were exploding like fireworks. He couldn’t imagine it -- and there was probably something insulting about that – Magnus, who was so solid, so strong willed, manipulated that way. Turned by a woman who knew exactly what she was doing when she forced him into it.
Letting out a long breath, Linc tried to pick his way around the story in his head. He wouldn’t blame Magnus for it, wouldn’t see him as anything less because a woman had played him. ”That’s why you gave me the choice?” he finally asked hoarsely as Magnus’ story finally seemed to come to a close. ”You wanted to help but you didn’t want to force me into it. Is it why you were worried about Cassie at first too? You thought she might do the same, seducin' me because she wanted somethin' from me?” But Cassie didn’t have a bad bone in her body. What had happened after she’d made the ring he’d asked her for hadn’t really been her fault. After a minute he tilted his head, studying Magnus like there were suddenly new sides to him that he’d never seen before. ”Did you love her?” Maybe that had been forced too. Until Magnus had become a vampire he was just as vulnerable as anybody to compulsion. One word maybe and all resistance would’ve gone out of him, leaving that good man unshielded against what was to come.
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MAGNUS DAYNE
Vampire
Posts: 82
Played by:
Julia
"You waste time trying to get people to love you, you'll end up the most popular dead man in town."
Last seen Apr 7, 2024 18:39:20 GMT
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Post by MAGNUS DAYNE on May 11, 2023 17:33:16 GMT
━ evil notions come free ━ QUIETLY, AS THEY STOOD IN FRONT OF EDWARD the First’s tomb, Magnus explained that Edward the Second━the man who was supposed to be a father to Magnus’ Edward━was the knob. The grandfather was a great man and a great King, and Magnus was happy to have raised his own son in the man’s image. Or, at least, that’s what they’d all said at the time━Edward the Third ruled as he should’ve, and was still regarded as one of the greats.
Magnus slipped through the small area until he found his first son━until he found the man and woman who’d started and ended it all. It was time for him to share the story with Linc, and so he did, his heart burning all the way through, different emotions tearing through his chest. Sadness, love, anger, guilt, resentment━it was all present on his face, and he hoped that seeing it would show Linc that his surrogate father wasn’t such a monster after all. Although he’d lived more than eight lifetimes, he was still a man underneath it all, and that man had gotten his beginning somewhere.
When it was finally over, he looked to Linc, hoping the boy meant it when he said he understood, and that it wasn’t just a comment intended to placate his parent.
“I didn’t mean t’turn ya, boy,” He said softly, then nodded, “But when it became obvious you were too far gone to ‘eal, then yes, I wanted t’give ya the choice. I never thought I’d sire anyone; never planned to.” Never wanted to, but he thought the use of that word would be too much━it had worked out in the end, after all, and he became the father Linc’d never had, and Linc was the son he’d never outlive━God willing.
His feelings about the witch didn’t have much to do with Philippa, or so he’d thought. Magnus puffed out a breath, blue eyes nervously casting a glance over Linc’s shoulder to the tomb of the woman they were speaking about. Normally, she was a far-away figure, something in his memory, but now she was in the room. Her ghost could’ve been lingering in the room━he imagined she’d be quite miffed about his retelling of their story.
“Yes and no.” Magnus sighed again, “She could be. We don’t mix━vampires and witches━and she’s not a normal one at that. She said a few words to ya and you were throwin’ everythin’ away, Linc━doin’ things I knew would stay with you. Ya can’t… put all that on one person. When I lost ‘er, I was…” He swallowed thickly. He knew he’d mentioned it over the years whenever he tried to relate to Linc━to show the boy that he knew what he was talking about━but brought the story full circle. Now he knew why it was so dangerous.
Magnus smiled sadly at Linc’s question, looking at her tomb again. He reached out, laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder, both to connect with him and gently move him so Magnus could stand in front of her. She was on top of hers just as Edward was his own, and Magnus extended his free hand, slipping his fingers over the bronze casting of what was supposed to be her ankle. “I loved ‘er more than any woman I’d ever known, and more than any who’d come after.” He didn’t feel wrong or guilty by saying it; it was simply a fact. “But it wasn’t th’sort of love I’ll ever ‘ave again, or the kind I’d want for you. It’s different when it starts… the way we did.” With manipulation, based on lies, and the horrible things she’d do that Magnus would inevitably accept.
“It started long before she was a vampire.” He sighed quietly, “She’ll always be the mother of my children and th’first woman to ‘old me down.” Another sad smile crossed his face, tears burning in his eyes as he looked over the tomb.
He turned to Linc finally, gently squeezing the hand still on the boy’s shoulder. “I know I’ve only told ya pieces before now, and the ‘ole story is… a lot, but I ‘ad to be honest with ya. I want you to know who I am, Lincoln, and the life I ‘ad that made me the man I am today. I wasn’t always… like this, and you won’t be the same man you are now in a hundred years. I look after ya and give you advice because I’ve lived through it all. It won’t always be this way forever.” All of it━the uncontrollable desire around blood, the inability to handle himself in certain situations, and every little problem Linc had now. He wouldn’t even remember the small things in a hundred years’ time, and Magnus hoped he’d be around to see that growth in his boy.
LINCOLN CROWNE | wrap soon?
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LINCOLN CROWNE
Vampire
Posts: 86
Age:
25
Occupation:
Emerald City Bartender
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Cassie Luanna
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Apr 27, 2024 15:36:19 GMT
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Post by LINCOLN CROWNE on Jun 7, 2023 21:54:32 GMT
They hadn’t cared enough to see what their behaviour was doing to him – unlike Magnus. Unable to recall the last time they’d filled the fridge – not that anything would’ve stayed fresh in there when they hadn’t charge the leccy key (or the gas for that matter) – or leaving him traipsing to school in shoes that were so small it felt like his toes were gonna rip right through their scuffed toes. They’d taken him to that place, all because they didn’t have the daffy old woman next door to dump him on anymore, as though that had been all that Mrs Graham was. She’d been his parent, a little taster of how it all should’ve been so he’d recognise it in Magnus later. Linc had looked at them in those final moments – his mum’s flat, lifeless blue eyes and waxy, pale face, his dad’s terrified expression that held no apology, just hope, like his son would be the one to save his life, not the other way around.
What he’d seen when he’d woken in that hotel room, the first time he’d seen Magnus, and in the alleyway when he’d found him after desperately looking for him, hadn’t been any of that. Magnus had been worried for him. His dad was a man who wanted better for him, who loved him despite his mistakes, and if the shoe was on the other foot and he was the one with confessions spilling out of his mouth, there would’ve been forgiveness. Linc wasn’t gonna let anything he might’ve inherited from the people who weren’t his parents in any way other than blood stop him from giving the same back.
Linc saw the hope in Magnus’ eyes when they met his – hope he really did understand what had happened to him, maybe hope there was forgiveness there if he believed his dad had anything he needed to apologise for now. He drew in a deep breath, let it out again. ”You were tryin’ to help, and I appreciate it. I was some kid you didn’t know, you could’ve let me just die, but you didn’t. Plannin’ to sire me or not, you did it because you’re a good man.” And he hoped that Magnus believed that. No matter how many ways he’d screwed up the blessing that good man had given him since.
Magnus’ gaze cut away from his then, to Philippa’s tomb, the woman who’d dragged him away from whatever path he’d been on before she’d started to give him bedroom eyes and manipulated him into sleeping with her. Maybe the love had been real, but it had started from that first purposefully twisting of Magnus’ feelings. Linc shifted his weight, his arms crossing over his chest, like he was holding in the memory of how things had started with Cassie. It hadn’t been like that. She’d wanted something, yeah, but she hadn’t needed to blackmail him for that interest to become mutual. It had been a tug in the pit of his stomach that brought on that wave of protectiveness.
Dipping his head, he pressed his lips together as Magnus tried to explain why he’d been all fussed about him and Cassie getting friendly. Linc looked up, his chin still low, and shook his head. ”She’s not a normal witch, but not just because she can do crazy things. She’s not like you think…” Lifting a hand, Linc dragged it over the lower half of his face as the other continued to grip the opposite bicep. ”That was my fault that night. I … got carried away and I cut her lip with a fang. She was havin’ trouble with another vampire and it was too much for her. I was the one so bothered by bein’ called a murderer. I wasn’t one, I could’ve just walked away, but all I could see then was me bein’ just like Wesley. If I looked like a murderer, a monster, then I might as well have been one. It was stupid, and I’m sorry I couldn’t stop myself bein’ an idiot.” It hadn’t been like that for Magnus – he hadn’t been young and dumb when Philippa’s death had shattered him.
”Broken,” Linc said hoarsely, no question to his words. Magnus had told him about it often enough in the last couple of years. He really should’ve been able to hold onto it when Cassie had pushed him away, but nothing sane had stuck with him then. The guilt was still with him, sticking in his throat like a fish bone he couldn’t quite swallow down. Would it be like that for him when Cassie left him? It wasn’t an if, she would one day, because she wasn’t immortal like him, and the thought of that combined with the look on Magnus’ face as he reached out to run his hand over the carving’s ankle and the sadness in his smile had an ache building uncomfortably in his chest. Some joke about that sort of touch being salacious back in the day dried up in his throat.
He reached out, laying his hand gently on Magnus’ back, the same way he had done back at Windsor, like he was the one doing the reassuring now. ”It won’t be that way with Cassie,” he promised. ”I know what you mean when you say it’s different and … I don’t want that with her, neither one of us want it to be that way.” No matter what Magnus had felt for her, the woman had still done some awful things. Love didn’t always disappear when it was wrapped with those thorns though. ”Sometimes there’s good with the bad.” The words slipped out almost quietly. Had he been the one good thing that had come out of the bad that was his parents? Maybe Magnus would say yeah, either way, he’d always be his dad now, and he’d promised that often enough.
Linc’s brows drew together faintly, the ache expanding in his chest as he was thrown back to the alleyway. The man he’d been that night had been the murderer Cassie had accused him of being, but he’d pulled himself back together, wrapping himself in Magnus’ lessons and faith to try and make sure he wouldn’t be that man again. Magnus seemed to be doing the same, swearing he wasn’t the man he’d been when he’d slept with his son’s wife and practically fathered the royal houses of Europe. ”I won’t be the man I was thanks to you,” he said hoarsely. Stepping in, Linc hugged Magnus, patting him twice on the back, like he could seal the gratitude right there. ”I’m glad you told me. I’m grateful you could be honest with me. You’ve got a good heart and I get to stand here because of that.” The ache vanished, like smoke escaping through his rib cage. Sniffing in a breath, like he was gonna get teary the same way Magnus had, Linc shot him a half crooked smile. ”I guess this means I shouldn’t make too many jokes about the Queen now?” Not that he had done anyway. He imagined if it was Charles he took swings at, Magnus would cheer it on.
Tagged: MAGNUS DAYNE (wrap here or with yours?) * Word Count: 1199
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