log; eliot & ren WHO: Eliot Waugh & Ren Solo WHEN: January 21st, after this. WHERE: The Physical Cottage ---> Balcony WHAT: Following some conversations about whether or not they should name the baby, Ren checks-in with Eliot on whether the baby has the Force, what they should do to protect it, and past history. TRIGGERS: Difficult pregnancy, infant death, kidnapping, possession, manipulation/grooming, and overall trauma
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Following him with the Force wasn't particularly difficult when Ren knew Eliot as well as he did.
He'd put off the conversation on the network as he wasn't certain it was going anywhere fruitful. Maybe he wasn't being rational about having Anakin get involved, but he didn't want to be picked at, or told that he didn't know what he was doing, or have that insinuation that he might royally mess this up and in ways that could not be recovered from.
And it didn't seem to matter how long he'd been here without messing something up, people still expected it.
He pushed the door to the balcony open and hesitated for a moment before he stepped out. "Hey," he said softly, testing the waters of what El's mood was, exactly, before he committed to really walking into them.
Eliot felt he'd largely maneuvered the prior week gracefully. He'd evaded revealing any significant personal truths, unlike many others, and had been purposefully evasive of circumstances that might have compromised him or others. The closest he'd come was reinforcing truths that Margo had already known. And that hadn't left him feeling raw in anyway. It'd mostly been good to just talk to her again with that level of openness.
But he could tell he'd not maneuvered this evening well. He'd dropped the conversation, pushed his phone into his pocket, and headed out for a bit of cool night air.
He'd known it was Ren without looking back to him or hearing his voice. No one else was going to come looking for him. Well, perhaps Fen.
"Hello," he said without turning to greet the other man, instead keeping his figure leaned against the railing. A lit cigarette was resting on the railing but Eliot's hands were clasped together for the time being.
Ren paused for a moment, taking in the temperature, before he stepped the rest of the way out onto the balcony. He wasn't certain, couldn't maybe be certain without digging deeper whether this was about Anakin or about something else, and maybe it didn't entirely matter. There was a baby that was going to be joining them sooner rather than later and there was a little bit of anxiety about that - or maybe a lot of anxiety about that - more than enough to go around.
"We could talk to him if you want," Ren offered. And then after a heart-beat he amended, because: "I can, if you want me to."
Which, considering the last time he and his Grandfather had really talked was when he'd been yelling at him about the coffee shop, it was saying something to be willing. Although Ren still wasn't certain this was about that.
"You don't want to," Eliot stated, without turning to look at Ren. The conversation they'd just had wasn't so distant that Eliot was able to keep back a tone with the words, which wasn't exactly what he'd wanted, regardless of where his frustrations lay.
"If anything, I'll talk to him. But you've got it, right?"
That probably wasn't going to help. He knew this. He didn't move to apologize for it though and instead bowed his head just so.
Ren frowned at the snap, maybe it was deserved, but it wasn't typical of Eliot, and it was at times frustrating how much better his husband got along with his grandfather than he did. He'd wanted a better relationship maybe, but it didn't seem that it was meant to be.
"No, I don't want to," he sighed. "Because the last time we had a conversation he more or less chewed me out, and that's more or less constant," and he was anxious enough about fatherhood without his Grandfather doubting his abilities. "And I told you if we need someone we can ask…" he trailed off half tempted to pick up El's cigarette since it was resting there. "I'm anxious enough about this without hearing from Grandfather all of the ways that I'm going to fuck it up," he added softly. "That's all."
Eliot turned his head in the direction away from Ren, his frown setting in more, with a firm determination not to let the first response that came to mind being spoken aloud. He could tell the initial agreement wasn't going to be the end of the conversation and so he waited, only briefly turning his gaze back to his husband, as if to say he was still listening. For the most part, however? He kept it down and towards the yard.
"You said that," Eliot agreed, squeezing his hands hard together, "And when I pointed out I think we need someone, you said trust you." He shifted, turning so his body was pressed against the rail and he was facing Ren. "How early can you remember him in your head?"
"Clearly? I was maybe two or three? But I don't think that was the first of it," Ren admitted quietly. It was difficult as a child to remember much further back, but there'd been dark dreams, and terror, and he remembered the sense of it clearly if not the particulars. Maybe all the way back… but that wasn't something he could say for certain.
He swallowed, pulling his hands across his chest and staring out at the gardens for a moment. He wanted to be dismissive and brush away concerns with - everything would be fine - but he couldn't truly be dismissive of this. And even if he didn't want to bring his Grandfather into the conversation, it didn't mean he didn't wish desperately for his mother's advice. Maybe it wouldn't help, because she hadn't been able to block Ren from getting those dreams, but maybe it would too.
The thing was since he'd realized that he thought their baby was Force sensitive, the worries had settled in strongly. They weren't home. It wasn't his galaxy. There weren't the same dangers, but it didn't mean they were safe either. "I could be wrong about it," he ventured.
Eliot didn't think that was the start of it, either. It was only speculative on his part but given how Snoke had entangled himself through out Ren's life? It would have surprised Eliot more to find out it had started as late as two or three. He pulled in a deep breath as his arms crossed over his chest.
"If we're going to be worried about names and horns, we should be just as worried about who and what we don't know. There's other portals out there. Who is to say someone like Snoke couldn't be nearby one of them?" He turned one of his hands over to gesture off in the distance as though it was one of the portals in question. Sure, they'd not heard about any other communities of fictional persons living in harmony, but they had heard of other portal openings.
As far as Eliot was concerned, it was possible a mutant or a force user or a God level telepath could find their child very interesting. "Anakin is not going to tell you how bad of a fuck up you are if you are letting him know we're concerned," he offered, more gently this time, before adding, "And we don't have many others to discuss it with."
"Maybe not, but…" Ren cut off his protest and fell silent for a moment. The problem really was that he and Anakin hadn't seen eye to eye for a while, and since they didn't, any conversation felt unpredictable and Ren hated unpredictable things, particularly in his relationships with people.
But Eliot was right, probably. "Maybe we can have him confirm that the baby is Force sensitive," he worried his lower lip with his teeth. That still opened up the possibility of talk, but maybe it wouldn't happen. Maybe he was being overly paranoid and cautious. Maybe this time, his grandfather wouldn't treat the choices that Ren was making as a problem to be solved or berated? Maybe.
"At least we'll know that I'm right then."
"We could," Eliot agreed before sighing out in preparation of a concession, "But only if you are actually alright with doing so." For as frustrated as Eliot felt about it, he didn't actually want to force Ren to do something he was completely against. "You don't have to be the one who asks," he offered as well. He had meant it when he said he could speak with Anakin.
They tended to have more productive conversations, after all. But Eliot was aware he was at an advantage on this being someone who didn't have the heated history that Ren had with Anakin.
"Yeah." He glanced down for a second before, "If you are, we'll keep them safe." Eliot's only true knowledge of force sensitive children were that they were regularly targeted. Anakin had been. Ren had been. Luke and Leia were hidden. If their child hadn't been force sensitive, perhaps they'd have eventually tapped into magic, but Eliot didn't want that for their child either. There had to be a foundation of pain for magic, after all. He didn't want that for their child.
Ren didn't like the idea, mostly because he didn't really want to bring Anakin into it, but he also knew that Eliot was right about some things, and Anakin was the one person who might know. Ahsoka was knowledgeable in the Force, but Ren didn't know her well enough to know if she knew anything about children, particularly unborn. He could ask, but it would likely feel like a slight to Anakin if he did. He sighed, "I want our child to be safe. I think we all do, it means sometimes not doing things exactly how we would do them if it was up to us."
There were three of them, with varying notions of parenthood and cultural differences, and Ren had known that, but it was more clear with the baby then maybe it had been previously.
"Look, I'll ask - and I'll put you on the filter so if things become… bad, you can help."
"That's becoming quite apparent," Eliot agreed, eyes shifting towards his forgotten smoke. There was a heavy sigh as he reached out to take it, flicking the butt to rid it of the ashes that had overtaken the majority of the cigarette. He took a drag before he spoke again.
"That'll work," Eliot conceded before shifting to set the cigarette down.
"We're all from different places," Ren slid a hand against Eliot's back. "You, me, Fen - we grew up with different norms. We're going to have to figure out how to mix those."
Eliot was quiet for a moment, focusing on the feel of Ren's hand against his back. He didn't feel as though they were unwilling to blend together one anothers customs, but perhaps it was coming off that way. "Are you saying that because of the horns?"
"Not just that," Ren pointed out. "I mean, yeah, right now it's the obvious thing, but we're going to stumble up across other things. There's the Force stuff, and like, who knows what other things we haven't even thought of yet."
"Ky," he began, reaching down to take his free hand, "I want us to blend our customs and worlds together. I want it to be clear our child is yours, Fen's and mine," he explained before letting out a sigh, "But I want to be able to talk about things, too."
He lifted his gaze up towards the sky as he tried to find words. "I didn't treat Fen well last time. And I just...want to do better."
“Does it feel like we’re not talking?” Ren asked, looking over at his husband. “Because that’s probably something we should try to work on now, cause I doubt it will get easier." Worry gnawed suddenly, the fear of his parents having not talked, and far more dangerous to him than some specific thing that might try to twist their son or daughter, was the notion that they might get lost in a shuffle of their parents not communicating well.
"I think we're both treating her well, for what it's worth," Ren sighed, glancing up at the sky too. "We're all on edge probably." It might get better when the baby got here - or at least that particular piece might.
"Sometimes," Eliot said quietly, as he lowered his gaze back down. Arms shifted to cross over his chest tightly as he mulled over how he wanted to proceed. He wasn't even certain if he could blame anyone but himself for that either. Perhaps he just needed to be more vocal instead of pulling back on what he wanted to say.
"I think so," he agreed, "But..." He tried again before tilting his head down. "Yeah. We are." And likely for reasons that were identical and for ones entirely separate.
Ren was quiet for a moment, a rather long one, mind turning over possible things to say. He didn't want to push into something El didn't want to talk about, but from the moment Fen had announced her pregnancy, Ren wasn't unaware of it either - that tension that lurked under the surface. He knew much, if not all of the history, and he knew that even if they weren't intentionally talking about it, that it still existed.
"El," he finally started, quiet but persistent. "I know there's stuff. I know you too well."
There was stuff. And Eliot had bit his tongue, swallowed down arguments, and tried to focus on the fact that Fen's comfort was the most important thing. With how the last pregnancy had gone, he wanted nothing more for her to have as much security as they could give her in a world where any moment they could be thrown into another place or time. And that determination for her to feel secure was why he'd swallowed down words and it'd been months without bringing things up again.
Until tonight, in a blind hope that maybe it'd been enough time and maybe she'd seen that they didn't need to worry about an effective boogeyman on this subject.
And even if he wanted the security for her, and knew he should just swallow it down again, he didn't think it was helping. Margo had pointed it out after all. Log baby was out again. It was feeling all too familiar to the time when her mental state hadn't been so sound and it had been enough to strike a chord of worry through Eliot, when at the time he'd not cared for Fen in the way he did now.
"She came up with the conspiracy of the horns on her own. It would be like the Portal to do something like that, yes, but we have no justification to support it will happen. Jake Summers? Anka Irene? Their parents are just as powerful as we are, just as much a target for the Portal, and yet they were born with no hiccup," he explained, having turned away to look back out at the yard once again during the silence Ren had given earlier. "And I want her feeling safe but it's beginning to feel like ignoring an actual problem."
Ren only knew about Fillory from what Fen and Eliot had told him, and this wasn't the sort of thing he was going to put much worry on. It sounded like superstitious nonsense to him, but he was also aware that to many people the idea that some dark force could reach out to their child in the womb would sound like superstitious nonsense - and obviously that was not. Eliot knew that, and Ren knew it because it had happened to him. It seemed unlikely here, but it felt like more of a real worry than horns. And yet.
"Is it not a true conspiracy, or is it a folk tale of Fillory that holds some merit? I took it at face value," Ren said softly. "After all, we're talking about dark forces and asking my Grandfather to consider trying to help. Just because it seems like superstition to me, doesn't mean there's not real belief tied to it, even if…" Ren didn't want to say that it sounded silly, but also, it sounded silly. He shrugged.
"She's worried," he offered. "She lost her first baby." A beat. "You both did."
Ren half wished that Sam Wilson was still there. He didn't know if Sam Wilson would have been able to do much with the sort of trauma that Eliot and Fen both had in different ways, but he also knew that Sam knew something about trauma and healing it, which was more than Ren felt comfortable with. He looked at his husband. "I just haven't known how to talk about it."
"No, it is not a folk tale of Fillory." Or it hasn't been when he'd spent a lifetime living next to the Mosaic. There'd been nothing preventing the discussion of Rupert's name well in advance. "Unless it developed later," he amended, his hand rolling in a gesture of admission that this was possible. "But she referenced the Portal when she spoke of it, so I think it was concern over it being temperamental more than anything."
Which was why he'd held back and kept his hope that it would iron itself out. Only, it seemed to be getting worse. He turned his head to look towards Ren, taking in the meaning of his words. "Fair," he agreed after letting it sit heavy for a moment.
"Yes. She did." And no matter how close he'd held her to him in the aftermath, it didn't change how he'd treated her in the lead up. His head dipped down and he focused on the grass below. "We never named her," he said softly.
Eliot didn't know how to talk about it either. He hadn't talked about it much since it happened. Not here. Not back home. "Neither do I."
Ren frowned at this, thoughtful for a moment. Perhaps it made sense that the baby had never been named. And then there was Fray who wasn't that baby, but whom they'd been led to believe was. And it was complicated to think about- in some ways - but then in other ways he wondered.
"Perhaps we should," he suggested, tentatively.
He shifted his weight, and turned to face Eliot completely. "We don't have to name the one she's carrying right now. I have ideas, you have ideas, I'm sure, and Fen likely has ideas, and when all is said and done, and the baby is here, we can throw those ideas out, and maybe they'll have three names. It is a less big deal than the trauma and the fear. And maybe we heal some of that by naming her. The one you lost - we lost. We name her."
Maybe it was a terrible idea, but … "Sometimes I think we fear more what we don't name. What we don't admit we fear. That's more dangerous than anything else."
Eliot turned his head to peer his gaze to his husband. There was a look on his face, as though this thought hadn't ever occurred to him, and he turned it over in his mind. Between all of the never ending issues back home? There hadn't been time. Or at least, Eliot didn't think there was. Perhaps Fen had chosen something when he was inhabited. Perhaps he should ask. But he didn't think she'd hold that back from him.
And keeping her from having a name had always sat wrong on Eliot's heart. "Maybe," Eliot whispered. It would depend on Fen.
"That's...no," Eliot said, feeling exasperated. He shifted completely so he could look to Ky. "How Fen feels is the entire reason I've been quiet, Ky. Her feelings are more important."
But that didn't stop the fear of a possibility of a frantic portal sending him to another world before the baby was born. Or Fen. Or Ky. Or the baby themselves. What would happen if any one of them were suddenly gone and it hadn't been settled? He sighed. It all came back to fears of the unknown and was that really so different from 'regular' life?
"We should see if Fen is open to that idea," he stated. It was a good idea but he didn't know how she'd take to it. He reached out, holding his hand in offering, to stress it was a good idea and one Eliot was keen on.
Ren reached for the hand, and stepped in, tugging Eliot in so that he could meet him half-way. "Yeah, her feelings are important. So are yours."
He didn't know how to say that he remembered just how Eliot had hurt after learning of the baby at home. He knew Fen carried that grief too, and they were going to deal with that differently, but that didn't mean that the ways they needed to deal with it wasn't important on both sides.
"We'll see how she feels about it" he slipped an arm around Eliot's shoulders, and leaned his head in. "And we'll consider from there." It was really all that they could do. There was no safe world that they could live in, not Fillory, not Chandrila, and not Earth. Anywhere they were there would be dangers - some of them probably as of yet unknown - and they could only do the best they could with what they had.