A cursed sleep... That sounded like something out of a fairy-tale. Which, honestly, wasn’t nearly as surprising to Llewellyn as it once would have been. Now that he knew how often other worlds could be full of magic and curses, and that many stories in his world were real in others.
The only thing he knew was that it was both worrying and confirmed some of his fears. These kids had been through a lot of bad things, and it was no wonder they kept their distance. He didn’t blame them in the least.
His tone is soft as he nodded, “Names are gifts our mothers give us, thoughtful and important. I’m glad that she awoke from her curse to give them to you.” He tilted his head slightly. “Mine gave me my own and changed our last name to make us fit in to where we moved.” The question was, what had happened to curse her, and what had happened after she awoke? Clearly, the children had still had a difficult life after the fact.
Rhy... He was going to have to talk to Rhy about this. His husband might even have some insight on things like this, given there was magic in his world.
He looked at the instrument again, having connected the dots. Sole was definitely the one who’d stolen it, and he’d done it for Luna... A sweet gesture, but dangerous for having just arrived. “I assure you, no one will bother you about that again.” He commented with a small nod to the item, “I think it suits Luna, anyway, and instruments are meant to be cherished and played, hm? Better than sitting in a shop window.” He commented with a lighter smile. The detective was absolutely going to go back to the shop and pay for it, so the shopkeeper would call off the guards.
He needed to consider how to keep them from doing that again, though... It reminded him too much of Felix back in Toronto, who he’d ended up visiting with books as gifts to keep the boy stocked up without a need to steal more. “Do you like the pretzels?” He asked, deciding that might be a good place to start. Start with food, and hopefully work up to making sure they had more that they needed or wanted. Trust, in his experience, was a slow thing... You needed to be patient, to build it up.
Even he had taken months to accept that Mrs. Young, the landlady, wasn’t just going to throw him out when she realized he was sometimes a difficult child…
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The only thing he knew was that it was both worrying and confirmed some of his fears. These kids had been through a lot of bad things, and it was no wonder they kept their distance. He didn’t blame them in the least.
His tone is soft as he nodded, “Names are gifts our mothers give us, thoughtful and important. I’m glad that she awoke from her curse to give them to you.” He tilted his head slightly. “Mine gave me my own and changed our last name to make us fit in to where we moved.” The question was, what had happened to curse her, and what had happened after she awoke? Clearly, the children had still had a difficult life after the fact.
Rhy... He was going to have to talk to Rhy about this. His husband might even have some insight on things like this, given there was magic in his world.
He looked at the instrument again, having connected the dots. Sole was definitely the one who’d stolen it, and he’d done it for Luna... A sweet gesture, but dangerous for having just arrived. “I assure you, no one will bother you about that again.” He commented with a small nod to the item, “I think it suits Luna, anyway, and instruments are meant to be cherished and played, hm? Better than sitting in a shop window.” He commented with a lighter smile. The detective was absolutely going to go back to the shop and pay for it, so the shopkeeper would call off the guards.
He needed to consider how to keep them from doing that again, though... It reminded him too much of Felix back in Toronto, who he’d ended up visiting with books as gifts to keep the boy stocked up without a need to steal more. “Do you like the pretzels?” He asked, deciding that might be a good place to start. Start with food, and hopefully work up to making sure they had more that they needed or wanted. Trust, in his experience, was a slow thing... You needed to be patient, to build it up.
Even he had taken months to accept that Mrs. Young, the landlady, wasn’t just going to throw him out when she realized he was sometimes a difficult child…