Happy 10th birthday to this fic! Yes, I am still trying to chip away at it, but I'm also moving house after over a year of travelling to and fro between different places and my notes are boxed up for safekeeping.
beta'd by the transatlantic Insane Scriptist.
Of advice and reflection
Bel sprawled on his bed, chewing a pen as he contemplated the latest letter from Suriel. He would be seeing her in person in two weeks' time and while he wasn't nervous -Royalty did not suffer from anything so plebeian as nerves- he was aware that there were ways an in-person meeting could go wrong that would not be obvious from an exchange of letters. However arranging the in-person meeting was important; Suriel had written to him, opening the connection, so it was on him as older sibling to take the next step.
Which he had done, and Boss was honouring the Crown Princess of Prussia with being Sabina's first diplomatic guest in over forty years. Nobody could argue that this was anything less than impeccably appropriate and respecting his sister's station, or that the Principe di Sabina's guardianship of Prince Ramiel of Prussia was in any way dubious.
The day after the death of Hebe, Bel had packed up Sekti and gone hunting for his less-dead-than-he-should-be twin. It hadn't taken him long to find Raziel; hadn't taken long to kill him properly either -royalty he might be but Raziel was not Quality- while Sekti melted the annoying peasant attendant. It was more a mercy kill than anything else; Raziel had lost the Heirship when Bel had killed him the first time, hence their parents truly believing him dead, and its loss meant Raziel had been dying by inches without the support of the Family Magic, which had also made him a threat to the little sister his Stupid twin had not even realised existed.
No, Raziel had thought Bel was the Heir now. It had therefore been Bel's duty as Suriel's older brother and as a loyal Prince of Magical Prussia to make sure Raziel never found out about Suriel. He had very firmly tied off that loose end, complete with Manservant reducing the body to clean bones afterwards, which he then boxed up and mailed to his parents for the Royal Crypt. He'd put in his letter that he'd 'recovered' the remains for repatriation, which had been accepted and he'd received a warm letter from his father in response, along with an increase in his allowance.
Bel appreciated the money for what it symbolised, but what he appreciated more was that his parents had not objected in the slightest to Suriel visiting him without either of them chaperoning, despite his sister being eleven. Oh, there would be someone chaperoning, but that it was neither of their parents meant that Suriel as Crown Princess would be primary guest, and that Boss would be hosting her specifically.
Boss had delegated arranging the entertainment for that visit to Bel, and he had decided on a trip to Sabina's royal menagerie to appeal to her interest in Creatures and serve as a public outing, then a modest diplomatic dinner in the evening to dress up formally for and serve as a background for the official exchange of honours. Sabina's highest honour afforded to fellow ruling royals was the Order of Vulcan; Prussia's was the Order of the Black Eagle, technically, but Magical Prussia had the Order of the Lindwurm as its highest established order of chivalry, awarded only to magical royals and high-ranking nobility.
It could only be awarded by the Magical Ruler, so Suriel would be acting as their father's proxy in awarding it to Boss, with a ceremony in Prussia where it would be entrusted to her and then another in Sabina where she could hand it on. Suriel would then act as proxy for a relevant order being awarded to their father, and potentially receive a lesser order of her own; probably the Order of the Vulture, which was another Sabina chivalric order, but one open to cadet royalty including consorts and heirs as well as younger siblings and so on.
The Order of the Lindwurm was not so very exclusive as the Order of Vulcan, which had not been awarded to any magical monarch ascending their throne since the previous Principe had entered seclusion, Bel's own father included. Boss re-opening diplomatic relations and signalling his intent to distribute honours was therefore a very big deal politically. Elected Magical leadership could only hope to receive the Order of the She-Wolf, Sabina's highest honour for prominent citizens. All personal honours of course; following the death of a member all the regalia had to be returned to Sabina, to be exchanged for a personalised memorial for the family to display prominently, generally attached to a funeral monument of some kind.
The long abeyance meant that Boss had plenty of space in the respective orders to fill, and there would be a rush of honours and privileges offered to him by other royals and heads of state hoping to secure a place in Sabina's esteemed ranks. Starting with Prussia was a mark of how much Boss valued Bel, and it pleased the Prince to know that this was something his royal parents and sister could never had secured for themselves.
Even in exile he was bestowing largesse and proving his worth as royalty; of course his parents were keen to maintain the connection. Suriel's interest was more overtly familial, based on the contents of her letters, but as she grew it would doubtless become more political. She would be Queen one day, after all.
Right now however Suriel wanted to know if she should attempt send his birthday present by owl, or simply bring it with her when she visited on the twenty-third. Well, she would be arriving on the evening of the twenty-second, but Bel would not be seeing her until the twenty-third, which was when all the events he had planned would be taking place. Unless he went to Sabina early and joined the welcoming committee alongside the Black Widow, of course.
His mirror buzzed angrily; Bel glanced at it, then tapped the surface to affirm that he'd received and noted the Officer-wide test alert. Mammon was testing the mirror's signal range -pointless when they were magic and not dependent on such plebeian things- with a little help from Szökő, the Transportation specialist, as well as setting up equivalent alerts as the mobile phones used. The baby was probably sending them out from the bottom of a mine, to fully test that they really did work everywhere.
Mammon would doubtless switch over to the mirrors entirely once they were assured of functionality; there were no network fees or battery charging requirements, hacking risks were almost non-existent -you had to be personally keyed into a mirror in order to use the network at all, so it would be in-house sabotage at most- and range was, as the Mist was learning for themselves, unlimited.
Well, possibly limited to planetary atmosphere. But that was still vastly better than cell phones could offer. Now, what to write to Suriel…
Xanxus perched on the window seat in one of the music rooms, tuning his violin by ear. This music room was in a pleasant shade of rich green, the vivid shade interrupted by large gilt-edged panels painted with tromp-l'oeil cloudy skyscapes on two of the windowless walls and by one of Poet's paintings on the wall beside the door. This specific painting featured various of his wife's relatives and bonded as the nine Muses, sitting on benches and dressed in chitons with all the classical attributes identifying them. It wasn't a classical composition though: the 'Muses' were laughing and declaiming and chatting amongst themselves rather than being soberly presented for the spectator, and who had been cast in each role was both speaking and occasionally puzzling.
Matron for epic poetry was one of the puzzling ones, while Luna the Investigator for tragedy had the vague feeling of being a little too on the nose, despite Xanxus not knowing the context there. It's a fun painting though, and less biting than many of the other ones featuring in the Mist's birthday exhibition.
He'd caught Ange before lunch for a private chat about Dorea, to find if his sister had any advice for him on how to continue supporting his wife and feeling for the shape of the grief still affecting her in the aftermath of the false memories. Ange had been able to help clear up a few things there -in part by bluntly clarifying that Dorea remembering being pregnant and then abruptly not being would affect her emotionally the same way as a late-term miscarriage- but had really only been able to counsel him to continue to be patient and supportive, and also to seek support for himself elsewhere.
Such as asking Ange for it. She was very happy to offer him everything she could, seeing as she would be visiting regularly through the Christmas period in between doing some formal hosting in Sabina; her husband was still infectious and she would not be going home to him until February at the earliest.
Xanxus had appreciated the clarification -which had matched his own vague suspicions- and also the overt yet strongly Siren-flavoured emotional support being offered; Ange had brushed and re-braided his hair, which had been very weird mostly for how comfortable it had been. He felt a bit self-conscious about it now, which unfortunately was probably an upbringing thing he was going to have to face up to and overcome.
Ange had also reassured him that the relatively swift transition from unrelieved black to greys and pale purples was promising in terms of emotional cues, and that he should continue to dress to compliment his wife's choices as a form of support. Which was no hardship, really; sticking to shades of black and grey with occasional purple accents for his casualwear was very comfortable, honestly. Vivid colour combinations were not his preference there.
He plucked a string, listening intently as the note faded, then made another minute adjustment to the peg. There, properly tuned; he knew now that Siren hearing was significantly better than most humans, so it wasn't so surprising that his determined perfectionism with the violin had been far beyond anyone else's comprehension bar Visconti's, who had probably Multiplied the acuity of his hearing for long enough for some level of that to be constant and instinctive.
The violin hadn't been tuned in the case, of course; the strings had been left lax to prolong their lifespan while he wasn't playing it. Tuning it again for the first time in nearly nine years was a little disconcerting in what it brought back to the surface.
It turned out he hadn't forgotten as much as he'd thought he had; his hands and body remembered. Remembered how to stand, how to move, how to rosin the bow and just the right amount of pressure to use, how the notes should sound and exactly where his fingers needed to go to coax them out.
He even remembered a few tunes. Still best to ease back in gradually though, to see how much practice he needed to regain the skill he'd once had.
Tsuna was walking home from school with Chrome when she slowed abruptly, turning towards an alleyway. Tsuna also turned reflexively, stepping backwards to give her space, then realised who it was she'd seen and waved awkwardly. "Hi Gokudera-kun!"
"Tenth!" Gokudera blurted out, then winced violently. "Um, Sawada-kun?" He was clearly super uncomfortable calling Tsuna that, face twitching miserably and making his new facial scars twist and catch. His hands were back in braces, if no longer bandaged; there was definitely more scar than skin there though.
Last time Tsuna had visited him in the hospital, the doctor had been talking to Shamal about plastic surgery and laser treatment for his hands and knees, for mobility purposes.
"Are you supposed to be out of the hospital, Gokudera-kun?" Tsuna asked worriedly. In the simulation Viola-san had insisted on making him do rehabilitation exercises and limiting his training time so he wouldn't be permanently crippled, while making it very clear that if the Millefiore weren't in the wings wanting them all dead she'd have him on strict rest with no training at all. Which Tsuna was inclined to believe even though she might not be a real person -or if she was real, she probably wasn't any older than I-Pin right now- because she had done things that had helped Gokudera recover more quickly, but had also insisted on his wearing braces under his clothes and on his hands all the time. Especially when he was training.
She'd said she wasn't a healer, but she had definitely known a lot about taking care of injuries.
Gokudera did not answer Tsuna's question, staring at him with wide, desperate eyes and a wobbling lower lip, hands flexing like he wanted to fiddle with a cigarette lighter. "Sawada, I, let me stay! Please!"
"What's wrong, Gokudera-kun?" Tsuna asked, frowning. Gokudera waved his hands, or started doing so, face immediately tightening with pain and hands lowering consciously.
"A lady who says she's my aunt showed up at the hospital yesterday! She's got paperwork and everything and she says she's taking me to Canada!"
"How did she know where to find you?" Chrome asked curiously. Gokudera's shoulders hunched.
"She says she used to be married to a mafioso, and she heard about me being in the Ring Battles and since I'm using my mother's name and her parents were my mother's guardians, that means she is my legal guardian." Gokudera's face was a picture of misery. "Ten- Sawada-kun, she looks just like my mother."
Tsuna had a feeling that it was Xanxus-san who dug up this particular relative for Gokudera; connected to the Underworld but not strictly Alliance, related to Gokudera's mother rather than the father he ran away from and also clearly aware of how he got injured, so not about to ask awkward questions. "It's great you've found more family, Gokudera-kun!" he assured the other boy hurriedly. "Is she a Gokudera too?"
Gokudera shook his head, eyes wide and pained. "N-no, she's a Soave; my mother's mother and her mother were cousins. She, she says she was a concert musician before she married, and that now she's divorced she's joined an orchestra again. She told the surgeons she's prepared to pay for whatever treatment is necessary to give me as much mobility in my hands as possible, and told me privately that she has the contacts for Flame specialists to do healing there as well."
"That's great news!" Tsuna said, so relieved that Gokudera was going to get the treatment he needed without needing to worry about paying for it.
"But it's not okay, Tenth!" Gokudera exclaimed loudly. "She wants to take me to Canada!"
"You lost your job at the combini, didn't you?" Chrome said softly; Gokudera glared at her but didn't answer. "And you can't pay rent while you're in hospital."
Gokudera shrunk in on himself. "Silvia-san paid my last month's rent," he mumbled, "and threatened the combini guy with a lawsuit for hiring me when I was too young and also for underpaying me, so he threw money to make her go away. And she says she hired a specialist to pack up my dynamite properly and have it shipped." He stared imploringly at Tsuna. "If you tell her you want me to stay I'm sure she'll let me stay in Namimori, Tenth!"
Tsuna was very sure she wouldn't, because if Xanxus-san had found her then she knew Tsuna had lost that Ring Battle. He wasn't going to be Don Vongola, so he had no say in what happened to Gokudera. "But Gokudera-kun, you said she has a job and everything," he pointed out hesitantly. "She can't just move to Japan. And, and you s-should go!" he added, more firmly. "She's going to pay for your medical treatment and wants you to have the time to recover properly! She's your family Gokudera-kun! She came all this way to find you!"
Gokudera looked like he wanted to break down crying. "But Tenth!"
"I'm not going to be Tenth, Gokudera-kun," Tsuna said as firmly as he could. "I'm not going to be a Mafia Boss. I'm just another Sky now, one under the protection of Xanxus-san. If you want to be a Mafia Boss's Right Hand you'll have to find somebody else; I'm not going to be mafia. Xanxus-san promised me I won't have to fight ever again." He'd still be a Vongola Sky, but he'd be hidden and protected instead of expected to fight other people. Hidden and protected by adults with years more training and Underworld experience.
"But, but!"
"No, Gokudera-kun." Tsuna wasn't even sure what he was saying 'no' to, but whatever it was Gokudera wanted him to do, the answer was no.
"But, but adults can't be trusted!"
Tsuna's experience had always been that adults didn't listen and didn't notice. But Xanxus-san had listened and Grandma listened too. Grandma did notice and she had said that Xanxus-san was making sure things went smoothly. And, well. Things were going smoothly. It was so peaceful without Reborn that Tsuna was honestly struggling to adjust; it felt like a trap.
Well, there was the mess with Haru-chan, but Grandma said that was being sorted out and that Haru was going to get a Flame teacher that her parents would be okay with, so Haru was going to be okay. Tsuna was mostly grateful Grandma wasn't trying to insist Haru-chan be his Guardian and bring her to live with them; it was bad enough that he had Chrome-chan and Lambo! He didn't want to be responsible for people!
Well, he had a feeling Takeshi would be following them to Sicily as well along with Ken and Chikusa, but that was because Yamamoto-san was arranging that. Probably with Xanxus directly. Takeshi wasn't his responsibility, that was being done because Takeshi was his friend and they had a Flame-bond, so being away from Tsuna would hurt him.
Xanxus-san wasn't doing that for Gokudera, which said Tsuna didn't have a Flame-bond with Gokudera, Which was a relief, honestly; Tsuna was glad Gokudera got to be his own person.
"Xanxus-san has kept all his promises to me," he said quietly, leaning on that newfound inner certainty that things would be alright, "and so has my grandma. Your aunt sorted out your rent and didn't throw out your dynamite and wants you to be able to play piano again."
Gokudera flinched, curling in on himself as his eyes filled with tears. "But, but-"
"You should go home with her, Gokudera-kun," Tsuna said levelly. "Didn't the doctors say that you straining yourself before you were fully healed meant you would need much longer in rehab? You won't be able to be an independent hitman or do any work while you're doing that, you might cripple yourself permanently! Soave-san wants to support you and make sure you get the best possible care. You should accept."
"Yes, Tenth," Gokudera mumbled, fingers scrabbling at his trouser seams and face tight with pain as tears trickle down his face. "I'll accept."
Tsuna really, really hoped that spending time with Soave-san in Canada would get Gokudera to stop calling him Tenth. He could have said something like, 'it's not like it's forever,' but if he said that then Gokudera-kun probably would show up at Grandma's house in Sicily the moment he turned twenty and was a legal adult, so Tsuna was not going to say it.
He can't help Gokudera-kun; Gokudera-kun doesn't even listen to him half the time. Maybe Soave-san will have better luck.
"Look on the bright side, Gokudera-kun," Chrome said lightly. "Bianchi-san ran off after Reborn, so she probably won't come looking for you."
The way Gokudera's jaw worked said he wasn't going to admit he was relieved by that, because it was Chrome-chan saying it and he doesn't trust her at all because she's close to Mukuro. Which is one more reason Tsuna's glad Gokudera is going to Canada, honestly; in a month or so Mukuro would be out of Vendicare -Xanxus apparently promised and is already negotiating with the Vindice- and would be living with Chrome and Tsuna in Sicily with Grandma.
He doesn't want to live in a house which has Mukuro and Gokudera in it; it wouldn't even last a day before getting blown up!