Don't Worry, Baby [Closed]

[Brettenwald]

Woo!

Pretty woman, walking down the street
Pretty woman, the kind I'd like to meet
Pretty woman, I don't belie-

Elia Roän reflexively flipped his phone over to silence his Van Halen wakeup call without even looking over to his nightstand before yawning, cracking his neck and thinking to himself that he'd have appreciated better weather for such a special occasion. Aiming a vaguely resentful glare at the foggy, wet blackness outside his apartment window- it wasn't going to accomplish anything but it felt good -and getting out of bed to stand upright and get a few stretches in, he pulled a gym shirt on and padded barefoot through the apartment's hallway. "Hey boo. Sleep okay?" His mother leaned upward to give him a peck on the cheek, standing in front of the stove in a blue & white check apron and working her usual magic. Despite whatever failings she may have had as a person or in parenting, Jan Roän could seriously cook.
"Awesome. What's for breakfast?" The tall young man poured himself a cup of tea- plenty of cream, just enough sugar.
"I'll fry you an egg or two once the bacon's done, and there's bread, cheese and apple jam. Can't have a growing lad like you flying all that way on an empty stomach, can we?"

---

"I called Dad last night."
Jan paused in the middle of her bread & butter. "Oh?"
A remarkably loaded syllable.
"What? He appreciates it and I like having a father again."
"I'm just surprised that after how you've said you feel-"
"Can we not get into this right now, mom? Please? I don't want to leave on an argument. I'm sorry I brought it up." It was his father who was one of the reasons for this trip and also the reason it was possible in the first place, though in ways far, far beyond anything so trivial as just paying for his plane tickets. In fact, it was who his father was that had more to do with this trip than anything else besides being in love with a certain Crown Princess Julia Gertrude Cecily Miranda Kehrer.

---

Final checklist- everything had made it into his suitcases and said suitcases had made it through baggage check-in with zero hiccups, his phone was fully charged, his wallet was in his back pocket where it always was, and the Sagitta was snugly ensconced in Long-Term Parking Lot C. Quick check of the RKFConnect app: sunroof, windows, and doors were locked or closed as applicable, no lights left on, nothing remotely valuable inside other than the toll transponder. The business-class lounge was bloody nice: brown leather Herman Miller furniture, free WiFi, a continental breakfast he hadn't taken much advantage of beyond a substantial cup of coffee to wake himself the rest of the way up and a blueberry scone.

---

Good morning, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for KLM flight 544 to Amsterdam. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, SkyPriority members, and any passengers requiring special assistance to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you.

---

Many, many hours, two connecting flights and a vast array of headphone-fed albums later...

"Hey, babe! No, zero problems at all. Some turbulence but that was no big deal." Elia cradled his phone between his ear and shoulder, somehow perfectly executing a Full Windsor necktie knot on the first try despite this handicap. "Terrified of your mom, but still excited nevertheless. Heh. Nah, it's fine; I'll survive without getting thrown into a dungeon- or so I hope, anyway. Right. See you soon. Love you." After tapping End Call, he gave himself a final check in the mirror. His father looked back at him, though painted in his mother's palette: physically imposing for seventeen at 6'3" and built like the rugby player he was, freckles and vaguely Sixties-boy-band strawberry blonde hair down to here, blue-grey eyes. The light grey Tom Ford suit was something he suspected might have been a touch overkill though he wasn't quite sure, but as he slid his watch on before grabbing his wallet and car keys he rationalized that meeting your girlfriend's family- especially when they were royalty -was definitely an occasion you'd rather be overdressed than underdressed for. Somehow even the Grand Jacobean Hotel's elevator seemed to be vibrating with the same mix of excitement and apprehension he was as he made his way down to the ground floor.

In a coincidence that thoroughly baffled the doorman, he and the palace limousine reached the front doors of the hotel at the exact same time.

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

"Mom, I beg of you, please don't bring up his permanent record again." Julia sighed, her eyes deadened by mental exhaustion from having to listen to her mother lecture her nonstop for five solid minutes while simultaneously juggling a phone conversation with Elia.

"I want to make sure you're not dating a delinquent," Marie replied, lips pursed.

"I'm not--Mom, I'm seventeen. I'm responsible for my age; you've said it yourself." She tried not to think about how that particular conversation had come about. "And I've made it clear what my stipulations are, as has he. We have a balanced long-distance relationship."

The limo rolled to a stop. Julia peered out the window and quickly spotted a towering figure with a mop of light red hair. Her heart jumped in her throat at the sight of him, and her fingers curled around a phone that had only recently fallen silent. He was a half a head taller than most of the men who strolled along the bustling New Hamletberg sidewalk and broad-shouldered from rugby. Though she'd promised herself she'd maintain her composure, she blushed, his final words on the phone still ringing in her ears: Love you.

She didn't wait for the chauffeur to open the limo door. Heavy as it was, Julia wasn't so spoiled as to expect the staff to serve her. Besides, it took less time for her to open it herself than to sit and wait, and her legs were too jittery for her to sit still any longer. She thrust open the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk, her medium blonde ponytail swishing behind her, and broke into a half jog.

"Hey, Elia!" she gushed, sticking out her hand awkwardly for him to shake. She quivered from the effort it took not to wrap her arms around him in a hug.

Behind Julia, Marie emerged, clad in black slacks and a rich blue dress shirt, her dark hair woven into a severe bun. She surveyed her firstborn and the gargantuan boy and nodded to herself as she shut the limo door behind her.

Marie paced toward Elia, chin pointed up and posture erect. Within, her mind clamored for solace in a sea of tumultuous thoughts, but without she almost appeared hard as steel. In recent months, she'd become excellent at concealing her emotions. It scared her to see her hardened expression in the mirror, her tired eyes, but 'twas what was expected of her as the de facto ruler. She could never show weakness lest all her fear spilled out and destroyed everything in its wake.

"Hello, Elia. I'm Mrs. Kehrer, Julia's Mother." She extended her hand for Elia to shake.

[Brettenwald]

"Julia."

Julia.

He'd have hugged her in a heartbeat, but he was pretty sure her mother would have just straight-up killed him on the spot. She was... to say that Her Majesty was not a massive fan of his relationship with her daughter was an understatement akin to saying that Stalin had overall not been the greatest thing ever to happen to Russia, for reasons including a somewhat checkered past and having the honesty to admit to being a particularly angry & delinquent little shit during his preadolescent & early teen years as well as various other shortcomings in her eyes he only had vague notions of. Instead he settled for a wide, blushing grin and a returned handshake while ignoring as best he could the faint lump in his throat. "It's so good to see you again," he said. "FaceTime does not do you justice."

Somehow Her Majesty's lips tightened even more at that. (It was worth it, though.) Marie looked ready to wring his neck, too well-bred to do so in public, intimidating and slightly like ten miles of bad road all at the same time, but running a country near enough singlehandedly and having a husband more or less consistently on the verge of death would do that to you.
"Your Majesty."
Elia gave her a firm, grown-up handshake in return, then did something his father rarely approved of and bowed. He wasn't 100% sure if it was the right thing to do in the moment, but she was a queen and he was for all intents and purposes a commoner. For all he knew he hadn't done it deeply enough.
"I'm honored to meet you at last."

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

Marie managed a slight smile as the boy knelt before her. "There is no need to bow. We reserve that for formal occasions with foreign dignitaries." She tilted her head toward Julia with a raised eyebrow.

"What? I told him about proper etiquette. And I suppose he is a foreign dignitary of sorts." She bit her lip and glanced sidelong at Elia as he stood. "I never told him he had to kneel, though."

"How was your flight?" Marie felt her smile waver. Here was yet another thing she'd have to handle on her own, another responsibility: untying the tether between herself and Julia as her daughter grew up. But Julia's final day of childhood had come almost two years ago.

She tried to keep her eyes from welling as she imagined how this scene would play out with Allie at her side. She could manage without him, of course--she had, in truth, done so for years--but she could not help but envision what life would be were his mind intact. If he could see how much Julia had blossomed, how fierce and bright and independent she was.

Marie directed Elia to the limousine, purposely inserting herself betwixt him and Julia.

[Brettenwald]

"I figured it was better to be safe than sorry, your majesty," Elia said with a wry smile, brushing off his knee as he stood up. "The flight was excruciatingly long but fine otherwise. I'd never flown for more than four hours before since my mom's always preferred train travel for our summer vacations, but business class took the edge off being stuck in a 787 for seven thousand miles."

As expected, Her Majesty made a point of sitting between himself and Julia. His intentions were nothing but noble, but in all honesty it was entirely understandable. Julia was a princess, he was pretty much just some random guy. She'd never said outright how much she'd told her mother about him, which was also a reason for this trip. Bona fides had to be established.

As the limo's door closed and it pulled away from the hotel, the point of no return passed- if in fact he'd considered returning at all, but come on. He'd done "meet the parents" before, this was just going to take place in a much higher tax bracket and with significantly more similarities to a police interrogation if Marie had her way, but that too was an experience he had some familiarity with.. It was going to be fine.

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

Elsinore Palace

Julia's stomach tightened as they neared the parlor. She'd explained to Elia many times over what had happened to her father, what he'd become, but the dark thoughts trickled forth nonetheless. Dad was a terminally ill, washed-up alcoholic; he was a shadow of what he once was an what he could have been. And Elia would only see her as the daughter of someone many people considered a failure.

Marie stopped the party in the corridor outside the parlor. "Elia," she began, "before you meet the rest of our family, there are some things you should know."

"I already told him," Julia hissed in Fardelshufflesteinian, teeth gritted.

"Some other things." Marie gave her daughter a pointed look. "First of all, there is a washroom down the hall. Scrub your hands with soap and hot water for at least 20 seconds." After everyone had washed their hands, she continued, "This may be self-explanatory, but do not try to bring up what happened to my husband. He genuinely does not remember, and he always gets upset when we try to tell him. And do not ask Wilhelm about it, either." She inhaled sharply. "Understood?"

When Elia gave an acceptable answer, she gingerly opened the parlor door.

A young girl with curly ash brown hair leapt from the ground and rushed toward Marie, leaving an array of Polly pockets behind her. She chittered in Fardelshufflesteinian, that strange mix of German and English that to foreigners' ears came off as watered-down German spoken in the listing tone of drunken pirates. Though she largely ignored Elia, a slightly short teenage boy with fringes of sandy hair in his blue-gray eyes gave the ginger a little smirk. He lounged on the near end of the couch, phone in his left hand and wire earbuds jammed in place. Upon seeing Elia, he tapped his phone and yanked the buds from his ears, the smirk widening into a sort of impish grin. The boy's right arm was flung protectively upon the shoulders of a pale man with graying hair and a vertical scar down his throat. He was nestled under a garnet afghan, blue eyes slightly distant but evidently focused on the stranger. He wore a nasal cannula, and he was pale save for the broken blood vessels scattered across his face. His face was slender, not sickly thin as the hands peeking out from under the afghan were, with loose but freshly shaven skin below his jaw. The third person on the couch was an elderly woman, the only one who stood, to introduce herself. Silver glasses perched crookedly upon her nose. She carried a soft elegance that did not quite match her plain carnation button-down and simple khakis, and she had friendly if tired eyes.

"Hello, young man. I am Ophelia, Julia's grandmother. 'Tis a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

As Ophelia extended her hand for Elia, the little girl leaned against Julia's side and tugged on her sister's shirt. "Is that your boyfriend?" she whispered loudly.

Julia reddened, preoccupied by their brother's snicker. "Yes," she managed. The boy snorted again. Marie snapped at him to cut it out, and he silenced, but the grin was back.

Next to him, his father cocked his head to the side and studied Elia's features, trying to place a name to the face.

[Brettenwald]

His Royal Highness did not look as much like hell as Elia'd perhaps expected him to, which was slightly for the best: the young man's grandmother was currently in an assisted living facility thanks to Alzheimer's disease and a smell of cleaning products, malaise and a particularly oppressive aura of terminality that felt like it stuck to him every time he left despite the fact it was actually quite a nice place on the surface had made him irrationally uncomfortable around those in limbo like Alastair was.

"It's an honor to meet you, your highness" he replied to the aged lady (who in different surroundings he could possibly have mistaken for a librarian) as he returned her handshake with a gentler one than usual. "And you," he continued once that formality was concluded and doing his best not to loom over the brown-haired girl, "must be Princess Hildegard. You guessed right, by the way, I am her boyfriend," he continued with a wink to Julia.

Allie Junior got an "Alastair" and a firm handshake, with the addition of a friendly smile & a regulation Male-to-Male Silent Communication Protocol upward nod that said "I'm cool with you if you're cool with me".

Finally, the moment of truth.

"Elia Roän, Your Majesty. Julia's boyfriend," he added by way of explanation after bowing though not taking a knee and shaking her father's frail hand. "It's an honor to finally meet you."

That seems like it went well, the voice in the back of his head said approvingly.

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

Outwardly, Alastair appeared engaged and well-mannered. He made eye contact, returned the boy's handshake, and gave a little smile that was as friendly as it was innocent. Internally, however, his damaged mind made the attempt to decipher the stranger and figure out why he was here. Alastair no longer had the ability to deduce the reason for Elia's presence, but he retained enough of his mind to question it, even if for the most fleeting of instances.

"Hello," he chirped in his native language.

The gentle hand of his mother alighted upon his shoulder. "English, Allie," she murmured in his ear. His eyes flicked toward her and then toward Elia again.

"Hello," he repeated timidly in English. Then, in the soft slur he almost exclusively spoke in now, "Boyfriend?" He leaned forward slightly, his expression shifting a few degrees farther from being vapid. Bemused as he was, he wanted to be invested in his daughter's life and make up for all the hurt he had caused. "When did that happen?"

Julia watched her father intently, eyes narrowed as she sized up his reaction. He wasn't startled or frightened the way he sometimes could be when he looked over and saw a face he didn't recognize right beside him. Elia, for his part, was visibly nervous. The set of his shoulders betrayed his tension, and Julia thought she observed him quivering. Have I placed that much importance on him meeting my dad? According to the almost ceremonious deference Elia was showing her father, it seemed she had.