#queliot fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlewormgrant · 29 days

Text

The Magicians: When the Fire Goes Out

I realized, I don't think I've ever shared this old fic on here. It's my most liked and bookmarked fic on AO3. Has a special place in my heart as one of my favorites to write. I have the biggest soft spot for the lil family vibes that it had going on. AND IT HAS A SONG. So yeah, enjoy! 🔥

Pairing: Quentin Coldwater x Eliot Waugh (MxM)

Summary: Eliot stopped and scooped up the little boy to rest him on his hip in one arm. He was starting to get just a little too big for being carried and Eliot knew there would come a day they wouldn’t be able to pick him up anymore. But that day wasn’t going to be it. Explores the themes of grief, family dynamics, and healthy established relationships. 3.9k words / Canon Compliant / Mosaic Timeline

Get out on your own Be somebody now This came up out of nowhere Guess I gotta go Let’s cut to the chase Stuck in this place for good When I’m with you in here It doesn’t seem so bad Bon Voyage - Arbi, Koethe

---

Eliot should have been relieved to get through another winter in Fillory, the cold was particularly unbearable within their shanty little cabin, but nothing about this coming summer felt right without Arielle.

The community came together, a little more than a dozen people cuddled on logs near the fire in her memory, garnishing the flickered flames with items that held a personal connection to her. She’d passed unexpectedly and they’d held a memorial for her in the village just a few days after burying her.

For Eliot, his personal item to burn came in the form of a long decorative sash. He’d spent too many years arguing with Arielle over differing styles and attempting to impose their tastes over one another. It was their longest conflict.

Arielle had won, obviously, but not entirely because she’d gotten one over him by dying. They’d always joked that would have been the case, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth to think about. He’d genuinely started to like her style.

He thought about Margo constantly and what she might have said or done differently. No one could have ever replaced his Bambi. He missed her more than he’d ever say. But at least Arielle was a good person to be around. He felt he’d become a better person because of her, or at least one not so heavily reliant on alcohol or drugs. She’d been the one to teach him to sew and had shown him how to dye fabrics in colors not even Earth could recreate.

As thanks, he’d make her things she’d have no choice but to wear. Boasting about his taste in fashion and how perfectly it could have worked if they hadn’t been living in the backwards lands of Fillory. The sash had been one of the first things he’d made that she’d actually kept using. She’d told him it was so ugly that it somehow made it cute. He feigned offence and it became one of their longest-running jokes.

Quentin tossed a peach into the fire, it was the only other item he had on him. The other was a small teddy that Arielle had made while pregnant with their first. A little brown Cozy Horse, much too small to be the real deal but it was from one of her favorite Fillorian tales. Too valuable to burn.

The sleeping boy curled up in Q’s lap held the teddy in a vice grip. He hadn’t let it out of his sight ever since she’d gone.

“Why hadn’t more of the world known about her?” Q’s voice was low, too tired to cry anymore, but the raw pain of it was there all the same. Eliot was beside him. He’d been staring off into the fire and watching the fruit simmer and burn.

“I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t want that? Her world was always you and Ted.”

“And you,” Q corrected.

“And me,” he agreed.

Eliot looked back to him and reached out to stroke through the snoozing boy's hair. It was soft and pale in the low light of the flickering flames, as blonde as Arielle's had been. He couldn’t see them now, but he already knew if Ted opened his eyes he’d see splashes of her colors mixed in with those familiar browns.

This was going to be a harder life for the boy without his mother there. Eliot wished he could carry all that pain for him. Leave the burdens of the world on his own shoulders. The boy was too young to fully understand, but he’d soon come to learn she wasn’t coming back. Quentin brought him out of his thoughts when the silence was broken again.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this without her El.”

“Take it one day at a time. Plus, you aren’t going to be doing this alone. Promise you’ll never be alone.”

Quentin leaned on him, Eliot pressed his cheek against the top of his head.

“I wish I could get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t think I want to.”

“Q, can I tell you a secret? For a while, all you’re going to do is float. You’re going to try and stay alive for something other than yourself. And those waves of grief and pain never stop coming, but somehow, you don’t really want them to. They’re a testament to all the love you’ve ever felt and can feel. This pain will pass and the edges of it won’t be as sharp each time it comes back.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Well you know me, I’m always right.”

“Not always.”

“Mhm. Okay, not always. Just most of the time.”

Eliot reached out to pat the top of his thigh. They pulled back and shared a sad smile. The conversation between them was overseen by the crackle of the fire raising up when another item was added by someone else. The others returned to their logs. Voices talking amongst each other, low and soft.

Eventually, they all left too. Leaving the quiet grieving family alone with the dying fire. The night was beautifully tragic. Eliot knew he’d always remember this moment, though he wished he wouldn’t. It was one of the more painful highlights of his life.

---

“Ted.” The voice patient but repeating the same thing for the millionth time that day was beginning to wear. Eliot glanced up from his spot in one corner of the mosaic and watched the young boy standing out past the treeline.

His stubborn little body barely visible past the wards and through the bramble and foliage. Quentin hadn’t moved, but he was watching the boy like a hawk.

“Hey, that’s too far and you know that. Stay where we can see you. It’ll be dark soon.”

“No!” Silence, Quentin gave him a second to think about it. Eliot raised an eyebrow and looked to Q, they knew what was coming. Ted was starting up again. “No dada, no!”

The little boy didn’t dare move from the spot he’d been caught in. Glued in place by his father's words. His grip tightened around the long stick he’d been holding, just so he could wave it aggressively in Quentin’s direction. The other arm wrapped protectively around a tattered brown Cozy Horse, holding it close to his chest. He let out a frustrated growl in the process.

Ted had been testing boundaries all day. Getting him to help or play near the tiles for the evening after an eventful dinner was next to impossible. No doubt going to bed would be the same. On days like this he’d get the passing thought of using his magic on him. Arielle would never have approved.

Eliot had watched the buildup happen all day, as much as it killed him not to intervene, he quietly watched on again. It was always a balance between who dealt with what. When Ted was first born Eliot didn’t have the slightest clue of what to do, but all that seemed to come so naturally for Quentin.

“I’m not going to ask again. Move back in the warded area by yourself or I’ll come get you.”

“No! I hate you! No! I wanna go see mama!”

Quentin let out a sigh and moved to get up. In the same moment, Teddy beelined off through the trees at full speed. Eliot shook his head and got up, shaking the dirt and dust from his favorite pillow. Q had already set off with speed into the treeline after the now-screeching toddler.

He moved to another corner of the mosaic where the sunset was always particularly beautiful, through the treeline only the sound of one very unhappy child could be heard. Eliot dropped his pillow beside the pile of others and dropped back down to make himself look busy.

It didn’t take long before a panting Quentin made it out the treeline victorious with a squirming red-faced boy fighting his arms. “NOOO” a sob pitched out loudly from the boy's tiny fighting lungs.

The stick was long gone but the horse remained flung about in his flailing little arms. Ted had decided to wake up and choose violence for the day. Absolutely nothing could please him. He got a pass, he was still trying to understand what his emotions meant. Eliot had been learning a whole lot more about that himself.

He could see Quentin's face a mixture of patience, pain, and grief. His eyes said it all, trying his best to stay silent about his own inner turmoil, but he was suffering all the same. Eliot waved Quentin over as he got closer. “Here. Bring him to sit by me. Go get some water and take five. The lamps will need lighting up soon.”

Quentin didn’t argue, though it was clear he was contemplating it. He looked defeated. Handling his own grief along with Ted’s outbursts had been wearing on him. He carried Ted over to sit in the pile of pillows by Eliot then turned to walk off towards the cabin. He could hear Q blow out a stream of air as he turned to leave, a hand rising to stroke his hair back. Eliot wished he could do more. One thing at a time.

The second Ted was placed down he tried to squirm away and go again. Eliot was faster, he’d already anticipated this movement. Hands around his small waist, he wrestled the boy back into the pillows.

”No papa!” sobbed out from the little boy, fresh tears replacing the anger, finding the moment had hit its breaking point for him. He buried his face into the dirty stuffed horse.

“Oh, come on kiddo. That was never going to work. Running away was my signature move.” None of those words meant anything to Ted. Eliot didn’t let up on his grip, not yet. “Listen, sometimes it can be a very good thing to run away from something, but right now it’s not a good idea. Show me you can sit beside me and I will let you go.”

It didn’t take long of Eliot holding him before Ted gave up fighting and grew impatient. Eliot loosened his grip as soon as he could. He didn’t want to be in his son's space while Ted was upset. The little boy puffed out loudly, body coiling away from Eliot, arms wiping his face then folding wrap around his face and knees in an effort to not look up at him.

Eliot sat back, he tried to show he was completely calm and in control. He waited for Ted to have that moment to himself, eyes going to the sunset to saviour the last of the setting sunlight through the trees.

The dirty brown horse hadn’t been let go, still crushed into the boy's lap. Eliot made a mental note to inspect the seams. It’d need repairing soon and he was dreading the potential headache it’d bring. He never could do the work quite as beautifully as Arielle once had. Maybe Quentin would be up for using his abilities instead.

When Ted came down from his mountain and slowly twisted back to look up Eliot, red puffy eyes still wet. In response, he smiled back reassuringly and reached out to stroke the wet from the boy’s face. His little one was engaging again, this was a good thing.

“See? You’re okay. I know you’re really mad right now and I would be too.”

He waited for a response, when there was none, Eliot leaned in and continued.

“Do you remember what I do when I get so mad?”

Ted shook his head. It wasn’t a fair question, Eliot had never so much as raised his voice around Ted. He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers patiently, bringing the boys attention to that.

Eliot promised himself he’d never be like his own father and he’d to date he’d stayed true to his word. Ted glanced down to his own hands, opening his palms across the mangled horse in his lap.

“How about we blow them out together? Maybe if you helped me we can get them down faster we could go do something else after. You ready?”

Eliot breathed in, making an exaggerated show of it with air filling up his cheeks, then waited for Ted to copy. After each slow exhale he’d fold a finger down. Ted genuinely just wanted to blow out the candles as fast as he possibly could. He was starting to blow a second time by the time Eliot was done with one exhale. It didn’t matter, the fact he was doing it at all was a step in the right direction.

By the end of it the young boy was still red-faced, but not quite so ready to explode. Eliot’s chest felt lighter and he knew Ted probably felt the effect too. They weren’t out of the woods by any means, but this was a start. Eliot placed his hand back down as his last finger closed.

“Did you get that nice feeling in your chest too? Means it’s working. So, what do you think happened that made you have to come sit here with papa?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. I forget sometimes too. I think it was because you went outside the warded area which isn’t safe. What do you think?”

“... but I didn’t want to be safe. I wanted to go see mama.”

“I know you want to be with mama, I miss her too. But going out into the woods isn’t a good idea and won’t make you closer to her. You want to know what I think will help?

“What?”

“We can miss someone and have them close to our heart. I could tell you my favorite stories of mama, or hum that song she always liked to do. Or we can just walk around the safe area and hold hands without talking. I don’t want you to feel more sad. What do you think?”

Ted sat there quietly, reasoning the pros and cons as far as his small developing mind could take them. Eliot was always surprised by how mature he’d been. Raised around only adults might have had that effect, or maybe it was being raised in Fillory. He couldn’t know for sure, he’d never experienced the hardships of kids before and didn’t really have any baseline to go off.

These newer outbursts Ted was having were always so sudden and explosive. Eliot could only hope this would get easier with time, for the sanity of all of them.

“Just walk papa? I don’t want to be more sad.”

“Alright little man. Whatever makes you happy and safe.”

Eliot got up first, hand offered out for the smaller person to reach for it. He held Ted’s hand as they walked out to the parameter of the wards. Each time Ted pointed to parts of the ward he knew, Eliot tried his best to explain why they’d added that, in a way Ted would understand. He never did, but he liked the pretty lights of it and listening to Eliot talk.

After a while, lanterns around the mosaic were lit by Quentin and their home looked like the most inviting spot for miles. Thankfully the wards they’d put up together should keep the worst at bay. Coming from the original falling apart shack it once was, they’d spent enough magic making it a home.

Q had a silent conversation with Eliot from across the yard before coming over to join the pair, checking to see if he was allowed or if Eliot would just shoo him off again. Ted was doing better. The coast was clear. Q smiled warily as he joined them.

Ted automatically held up his only free hand with Cozy Horse and looked sad when he couldn’t hold both that and his father. When Q got close enough, he took the horse from the small boy, then bent down to tuck it into Ted’s shirt so its head would poke out against his small neck. He took the free hand and used his other to ruffle the boy's hair when he stroked it. Straightening back up they began walking again.

The trio wandered aimlessly, attempting to talk about other things, anything to distract Ted, making him smile or laugh about something else. Showing him the world wasn’t always so damn tragic. Ted was pretty set in his thoughts, and it was hard to keep away from the harder-hitting questions. When no answer came from Quentin, Eliot stepped up and drew the boy's attention to him.

“What is dying?”

“Well, uh… Mama’s body stopped working when she got sick. She couldn’t eat, or play, or move her body anymore like we do.”

“But what if I get sick?”

“Everyone gets sick sometimes. I’m going to take care of you, and Dada will take care of you, and the doctors will take care of you too. You’ll be okay even if you get sick.”

“Does everyone die?”

“Eventually, yeah... everyone dies. But the bright side? Most people die when they are very, very old like Nana.”

Q tossed Eliot a look but Ted didn’t seem all that bothered. He was too caught up in his own head, just like someone else Eliot knew. His expression softened when Ted’s small voice spoke again.

“But not Mama. I miss her.”

“No, not Mama. I miss her too”

“Why is Dada’s face wet?”

“I think he’s just going to be doing that from now on, but that’s okay. Everyone needs to cry sometimes.”

“He’s crying? Why?”

“Dada’s crying because he’s very sad that Mama died. We all miss her very much. What do you think we could do when we see someone is sad?”

Ted offered no advice but immediately let go of Eliot and leaned in to try to hug Quentin. Eliot stopped and scooped up the little boy to rest him on his hip in one arm. He was starting to get just a little too big for being carried and Eliot knew there would come a day they wouldn’t be able to pick him up anymore. But that day wasn’t going to be it.

Getting closer to Quentin to side hug him. Q leaned his head in immediately to hide his face in the nook of Eliot’s neck and sniffled quietly. Ted leaned across Eliot to rest his head on his father. Q tried so hard to hide this side from Ted, Eliot wished he wouldn’t.

When Q pulled back and whispered his thanks, they began walking again. Eliot didn’t dare let him move back too far. Arm staying wrapped around his best friend, he pressed his cheek against his head and hummed that beautiful melody Arielle always used to do.

The small boy curled into the crook of Eliot’s neck where Q had been and hooked his little arms around his neck. It didn’t take long for the boy to doze off like that. They walked together in silence a little longer.

It was still too cold for him to sleep outside yet. Eliot knew they’d all be doing that once the temperatures were right for it. He eventually carried the sleeping boy back to the cabin. What looked tiny from the outside became a full spacious home on the inside thanks to years of refining their spellwork.

Tucking the small boy into his own bed, he carefully pulled Cozy Horse from the boy’s clothes and stashed it away into his back pocket. Once he was sure Ted wasn’t getting up again, he crept back out as quietly as he could to go find Quentin.

Quentin had been curled up on the bed-like bench outside. The campfire had been started back up and he seemed to be staring off into space. He hadn’t noticed Eliot approaching until he was moving past his line of vision. Q blinked back and looked up at him. Eliot took up space on the bed beside him, tugging at the blanket sprawled over the arm to cover their bodies against the cold. The nights weren’t warm enough yet, but it was still nice enough to be out there.

“He’s asleep.”

“Thanks. You were amazing today. I felt like a useless floundering fish.”

“C’mon now, give floundering fish some credit. They generally tend to mature into some of the most beautiful and powerful creatures. Plus, they taste delicious.” Eliot tried to tease, leaning in to nudge against his favorite person, wrapping him in for a much-needed cuddle under the blanket. “Some days are just going to be like that. You did exactly what you needed to get through it.”

“He’s asking to go be with her. That’s not normal. He’s just a kid.”

“Kid or not, he’s going to say and feel what he needs to say and feel. He lost someone important to him, just like you did.”

“I hate this. I don’t know the first thing about making any of it okay again.”

“Who says any of it needs to be okay? We just need to keep ourselves above water for a little while longer.”

“You seem to be handling all this way better than I ever could.”

“Just because I’m not hitting the booze anymore, or munching on all the psychedelic carrots I can get my hands on, doesn’t mean I’m handling it, Q. I’m a little numb to it all right now.”

“You’re better with Ted.”

“-And that’s because I’m a dispassionate cold-blooded lizard. Listen, him seeing you like this and showing him it’s okay to be upset is better than anything I can do. He has big feelings he doesn’t know how to deal with, much like someone else I know.”

“You’re far from being cold-blooded or dispassionate.”

“So we both agree I’m a lizard.”

He shifted his arm to retrieve the tattered and dirty Cozy Horse. Quentin sat up to watch and Eliot followed suit.

“I’d try sewing this but I’m lowkey terrified I’ll make it worse. Nobody wants an Ugly Horse.”

“Let me.”

He took it from him, hands gently inspecting the damaged toy. Cozy Horse came to life under Quentin’s touch, moving on its own accord as seams were repaired and holes patched themselves up. It was almost like it was brand new again, minus the lost stuffing and patches of fur. Eliot was enamoured by the sight. Watching something so broken be fixed back together like it was always the same could never get boring.

Eliot dipped in to kiss him softly against his lips the moment he knew Quentin could be distracted. Cozy Horse dropped down onto the blanket. Quentin hummed against the contact, hand reaching up to touch Eliot’s face. When they parted. Eliot nudged Q back down into the bed so that he could watch the stars above while Eliot kissed him in other places. He’d do anything to remind him he wasn’t alone. After their day, the contact was needed.

“See? You’re doing better than you know.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Just most of the time.”

“Eliot, shut up and kiss me again.”

---

I’m tired of this waiting And I am not alone Oh I’m burning up Saying what you will I’m not out of love I’m the captain of this sinking ship Please just get a grip I know it’s my fault But we’re not going down Bon Voyage - Arbi, Koethe

#eliot waugh #quentin coldwater #the magicians #mosaic timeline #queliot #the magicians fanfic #domestic fluff #established relationship #family feels #grief/mourning #peaches and plums #canon compliant #pov eliot waugh #hale appleman #jason ralph #Spotify

7 notes · View notes