"Alright, Grandpa," Judge said, plopping onto the couch like a sack of potatoes, his legs swinging in the air. "You promised! Spill it!"
"Patience, my boy," Gereon said, sipping his tea with the kind of exaggerated slowness that screamed I'm going to make you wait just because I can. "A tale deserves a proper setup. Let's see…where do we begin?" He stroked his beard dramatically. "Ah, yes— your mother, Eleyn. Back in her younger days, she was...well, how do I put this delicately?"
"Terrifying?" Judge guessed, smirking.
Gereon chuckled darkly. "Oh, she was scary alright, but in a different way. You see, back then, Eleyn was just a hot-headed, overconfident young lady who thought she could conquer the world. She didn't walk; she marched. And she had this idea in her head that nothing— not storms, beasts, or the laws of gravity— could stop her. But then..." He trailed off, deliberately dramatic, leaning closer.
"Then?" Judge mirrored his grandfather, eyes wide.
"Then along came your father."
Judge blinked. "Dad? How does he fit into this?"
"Ah, Alex Drakonis. The great charmer. The man could smooth-talk a charging bull into giving him a ride. When he and your mother met, they were both out gaining 'experience'— you know, that delightful little Drakonis tradition where we toss you kids into the wild and hope you don't get eaten."
"Yeah... right. And Mom went through it huh?"
"Well, yes— both your mother and your father coincidentally met while adventuring out accompanied by the guards." Gereon leaned back, "Your mother hated your father's guts from the moment they met. Why? Because he was too good at everything. He had this infuriating way of being nice to everyone, looking flawless, and— get this— never tripping over anything. Ever. Meanwhile, your mother was over here knocking over chairs and losing arguments with her own hairbrush."
Judge snorted. "That sounds like Mom, but I feel strange not hearing the word 'gold' when it's about mom."
"Oh, but it gets better," Gereon said, grinning. "Enter Seraphis."
"Master Seraphis?" Judge asked, blinking in surprise.
"The very same," Gereon confirmed. "Back then, Seraphis was a loner. She barely spoke to anyone, but for some inexplicable reason, she and Alex clicked. Maybe it was because they both had that calm, mysterious thing going on. Anyway, they started spending a lot of time together, and your mother? She. Lost. Her. Mind."
Judge's eyes widened. "What did she do?"
"Oh, Judge," Gereon said, shaking his head with a grin that screamed you're not ready for this. "She did everything. First, she decided she needed to prove she was better than Seraphis at something— anything. So she started challenging Alex to random competitions. Sparring matches? She demanded them. And you know what your father did?"
"What?" Judge asked, already giggling.
"He let her win every single time," Gereon said, smirking. "But not in a way that made her feel good about it. No, no, he'd clap after every match and say stuff like, 'Wow, Eleyn, you're so strong! I didn't stand a chance!' And she hated it. 'Fight me seriously!' she'd yell, and Alex would just smile and go, 'But you're already amazing.'"
Judge was laughing so hard he had to hold his sides. "He didn't!"
"Oh, he did," Gereon said, grinning. "And the more he acted like her personal cheerleader, the angrier she got. But that's just the appetizer. Let's move on to the main course: the lute incident."
"The lute incident?" Judge repeated, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Oh, this one's a classic," Gereon said, leaning in conspiratorially. "So your mother overhears Alex saying he admires people who can play instruments. And instead of, you know, practicing first, she decides to wing it. She grabs a lute and marches up to him like she's the next big thing in music. And then— oh, Judge— then she starts playing."
Judge covered his mouth, already giggling. "How bad was it?"
"Bad?" Gereon said, raising an eyebrow. "Judge, I was there, it sounded like someone strangling a chicken while stepping on a bag of cats. Dogs three villages over started howling. Seraphis looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die of secondhand embarrassment. But Alex? Oh, Alex clapped like she'd just performed a masterpiece and said, 'You have such a unique style, Elly.'"
Judge practically fell off the couch laughing. "What did Mom do?!"
"She turned so red she looked like a boiled lobster, threw the lute into the nearest bush, and ran off like her dress was on fire," Gereon said, laughing.
"Poor Mom!" Judge wheezed, tears streaming down his face.
"Oh, we're not done yet," Gereon said, holding up a finger. "Let's talk about her cooking. Now, you'd think after the lute debacle, she'd take a break from trying to impress him. But no. She decides to cook him a meal. And not just any meal— a 'signature dish.'"
Judge gasped. "Mom cooked?!"
"She tried to," Gereon said, shaking his head. "She made this...thing. I don't even know what it was supposed to be. A pie? A stew? An alchemical experiment? All I know is that it was purple, it jiggled, and it smelled like burned sewer. Alex, bless his soul, ate every bite without flinching and said, 'You're so creative, Elly.'"
Judge was rolling on the couch, howling with laughter. "Did she give up after that?"
"Oh, no," Gereon said, smirking. "The grand finale was the eagle incident. Seraphis had this little fluffy bird she adored, right? So your mother decides she's going to outdo her. And what does she do? She catches a wild eagle. A full-grown, angry eagle. She drags it to Alex like, 'Here, this is for you!'"
"No!" Judge gasped, clutching his sides.
"Yes!" Gereon said, laughing. "And the eagle, naturally, loses its mind. It screeches, flaps its wings, and starts attacking everything in sight. Alex had to wrestle it into submission while your mother just stood there, trying to look proud. And when it was all over, Alex patted the eagle on the head, smiled at your mother, and said, 'You're one of a kind, Elly.'"
Judge was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. "Did Dad actually like her, or was he just messing with her?"
"Oh, he liked her, all right," Gereon said, his smile softening. "He thought she was hilarious and brave and completely unlike anyone he'd ever met. And eventually, he told her so. But your mother never forgot how ridiculous she'd been, and that's why she's so strict about you kids staying home. She doesn't want any of you turning into lovesick disasters like she was."
Judge wiped his eyes, still giggling. "Don't worry, Grandpa. I'll leave the eagles alone."
"Good lad," Gereon said, picking up his tea. "Now off to bed. And if you hear your mother humming with a lute in the middle of the night, lock your door."