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It was a day like any other, filled with cheerful laughter and sound of little feet running around. It was a sound of peacefullness. Maybe not really peaceful, but it gave him the feeling of rightness. This is exactly what his life was supposed to be.
Still, Quentin mused, looking at his youngest napping against his chest, it’s good that not all his children are as rambocious as the middle three, running around and causing ruckus. It was obviously mostly Bennett’s doing, but his younger sister never cared too much to stop him, and younger Mari was all too happy to be in the middle of any commotion. It was usually up to his oldest, Cossette to try and reign her sibling in, and for her eleven years, she could be as terrifying as her mother while doing so.
As for Quentin himself he was all too aware that his children have him wrapped around their fingers and usually his attempts at stopping children’s games ended with him playing along and pretending to be a fierce dragon or a princess in need.
It always made his wife sigh and shake her head with exaparation, but he knew she loved his antics. And, oh, how he loved her. Calm and composed, but quick to laugh and joke, that was his Revka. He smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the early spring sun, thinking about his lovely wife.
He had a scarce few minutes of relative peace and quiet, Jonah soundly asleep in his arms, his older children for once not bugging him. It was over all too soon, when he heard a surprised yelp and startled gasps. His eyes shot open, as the last time he heard such noises was when Bennett broke his wrist, before shock subdued and pain settled in.
But few seconds later there were only awed noises, not pained cries, which calmed his racing heart. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry, so he slowly stood up and gently laid Jonah on the wooden bench, tucking him safely in his blue woolen blanket. Then he was ready to face whatever his children had been up to.
+++
It was a good thing he put Jonah down, Quentin thought dimly, staring at sparks dancing in his daughter’s palms. She rised her eyes to meet his, the realisation slowly seeping in, and fear replacing the wonder. And all he could do was silently hold her gaze, desperate to memorize every little detail of her face.
Beside her Bennet was almost vibrating with excitment, looking at the sparks, reaching out to touch them and grinning wildly when he felt the sting of electricity.
"Wicked! Now, when I get to be the rogue, we’ll be the bestest team of adventurers! And if Mari will be a warrior, then, we will be unstoppable!" – Quentin felt cold seeping in his bones. His boy had yet to realize that the world he wished to have adventures in didn’t exist.
His poor children. If only not for his lapse in judgement… But he never really thought… And that was exactly the problem, wasn’t it? And now he was met with the consequences of his poor choices.
He felt hollow. Of course, it was always a possibility. How could he be so reckless. And now his family will pay dearly for that oversight.
He felt a little hand tugging at his pants.
"Papa, why can’t I make sparks fly?" – asked Mari with all the innocence of a four year old child.
There was no words that he could form at that moment. He just pulled her closer and hold her tightly against his leg.
Please, Maker… Not my child…
There was a loud clatter. Nessa, their elven servant stepped in the courtyard with Cossette in tow. She dropped the tray with cups and bowl of grapes and covered her mouth in silent shock. He could see the exact moment the realisation dawned on his firstborn. He opened his mouth to try and stop the inevitable but before he could say a word Cossette screamed bloody murder.
The three childrens’ heads snapped to look at her, and more sparks flew from Athena’s hands at her surprise. He could hear other servants coming, and the loud voice of his father in law, demanding to know what was going on. Jonah stirred on the bench and let out an upset whine, woken up by the noise.
But all sounds died down when their owners got to the courtyard. There were few startled gasps, but everyone was too shocked to react otherwise.
Athena took few tentative steps back, towards her father, bumping into his leg. Quentin laid his hand on her shoulder. She was trembling, shaking her hands trying to put out the sparks, clearly distressed by being in the centre of this eerily silent commotion.
She looked at him, scared and so very, very young. She reached for his hand, but at the sight of her tears and fear, he went down on his knees and took her in his arms, tucking her safely against his chest, nuzzling his face in her hair, breathing deeply, trying desperately to calm his racing heart.
Like that, he could pretend he could protect her from everything, just for a little while.
Little Mari was tugging at his clothes again, but this time in fear, not excitment. He reached for her, hugging her to his side. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Bennett, standing in front of them, with spread legs and hands balled in fists, ready to defend his father and sisters.
Only seven, but ferocious like a dragon in his protectiveness.
The stunned silence gave way to hushed whispers and murmurs; and the household staff slowly dissipated, some to watch from a safe distance, some backing away from the mage in fear. And some, undoubtly, to inform the Templars.
Then he heard someone running. Then stop and gasp. Then run again in their direction.
Revka leaned on him heavily, reaching to caress Athena’s face, touching her cheeks, her hair and brushing the tears. Behind her he could see Cossette and Jonah, hovering uncertainly. He shuffled a bit and gathered them all in his arms, the last time he would have all his family with him.
It was torturous, to hear his wife sob and whisper pleas to the Maker; please, please not my baby, not my little girl; his children confused and frightened whimpers and quiet sniffling. Quentin was sure the memories of this moments will haunt him forever in his dreams.
Bennett pressed himself against Athena, still on lookout for anyone who would dare to hurt them, bravely fighting his own tears.
+++
In the end there was nothing any of them could do. The resistance was pointless and pleading was met with hard stares and impassive faces.
Still, Bennett was fighting hard for his sister. When the Templars came, tearing the family apart, he was still holding onto Athena’s hand, with no intention of letting go.
"Back off, you bastard" – he screamed when the Templar picked Athena up. Bennett dig his heels in the dirt of the courtyard and refused to let go. Revka was holding him from behind, pleading him to calm down, but seeing his sister’s tears made his blood boil. He would not back down.
They were separated nontheless, and the dark haired Templar who was holding Athena turned to the doors. She screamed for her brother, reaching out to him.
"Ben!" – hearing her voice, he doubled his struggle and finally manager to escape his mother’s hold.
"I’ll get you out, I promise!"– he shouted, little fists banging on hard steel armor. One of the other Templars, picked him up by the collar of his shirt and carried him kicking and screaming to Quentin.
"I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all! Bastards! All of you!" – on or two kicks actually managed to hit the older man’s armor, but he was unfazed by the tantrum thrown.
"You better reign this one in, Lord Amell" – he warned in a low voice, handing him the child.
+++
The heavy estate doors closed with a dull thud.
Quentin fell to his knees. His remaining children were crying and Bennett was still screaming on top of his lungs, but it was a wordless scream, full of pain and rage.
But Quentin was quiet. He felt the dirt under his hands, and there was little more he could register.
Behind him Revka let out the most anguished scream he has ever heard.