Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Mama…” Gillion’s eyes stung from his tears. Seeing his mother for the first time since he was taken as the Chosen One by the elders of the Undersea introduced a wave of emotions he couldn’t control. He knew this bittersweetness from when he encountered Edyn in The Tank, but seeing his parents, the ones who he barely knew after 20 years, the ones who didn’t even realize he was gone, made him feel worse than Jay’s arrow piercing his chest back at the Block. At least for that, he left himself open for the pain. He thought seeing his parents would be full of joy, not the same pit of anger and sadness he felt raising his voice at the elders..
“Why couldn’t you just raise me yourselves? Why did they have to take me? Couldn’t you have fought for me? At least a little?” He cried to them. As much as he tried not to show it, he couldn’t help himself from exploding in an array of emotions.
“Oh Gilly,” his mother’s face was soft and gentle, the way he knew a mother’s face should be.
“Mama, I’ve been through so much. This one time, my best friend Chip told me that a common greeting up there is slapping bald men’s heads. I slapped so many men before he told me that he was pranking me, so I asked him to duel me. Not only this, but apparently Pretzel is a skilled chess player! Can you believe it?” The tears welled in his eyes once more. “Oh! And my best friend Jay— her father is the Vice Admiral of the Navy! Yeah, he’s the one I… stabbed… which got me exiled…..” His voice trailed off, the guilt rushing back to him.
Being held in his mother’s arms for the first time since he was just a wee fry, he realized he wasn’t as happy as he thought he’d be. It didn't matter to him though. All he had wanted since he was young was to be held by his mother once more and told that everything is okay.
“Gill! Gill, wake up!”
Shaken awake by Chip. Of course it was a dream. What else could it have been? Here he was in the Black Sea. On the Albatross. About to head into the dangers he promised himself he would help Chip with handling. Into the dangers he subconsciously knew he might not be able to handle.