Seth looked around the room with a vague frown. "Smells like mud in here," he said with a sigh before sinking down on the bed, testing it a little with one hand. He looked up at Morgan, tilting his head a bit as he kicked off his boots and stretched out on the bed. Then swinging his legs to the far corner of the bed to help him fit it better.

This strange man was his father.

Hard to credit. But not so much. His life was strange enough, he supposed. "So where are you staying?"

"Yeah," Morgan said with a shrug, "It. From the look, it's the only empty one. I'll get everything squared a way. At least I'll try. I know a couple people here."

Say something.

Say something.

The man sighed and leaned against the wall, "If you want, I've got some space at my place. If. If you don't mind kids much." Faeries liked kids, right? That probably rubbed off on him.

Morgan felt like a complete fool. He'd been prepared, in his way, for a child. For someone he could wow and impress. He could compete with a pair of cool babysitters, but with parents? Actual, attentive parents? Who hadn't scarred the kid's hands up? Who would fight for him? Tough act to follow. "Either way, we'll be moving into the neighbourhood soon. So you can come by for dinner. If you want."

The youth shook his head slowly, "No. I. Look, we are. Whatever is happening, Morgan... father. Whatever is happening, father, I do not want to leave the Erins for a time. This castle. I have been here before. Perhaps later I will. I will see what has come of the Cnoch."

Seth sat up slowly, watching the man, "So. What are you like, father? Are you Order?" His brow furrowed a little, "And if you are, I will have you know that there is no force on any Earth that will compell me back to Amadeo. Not a one" His hands had moved to encircle one another.

Morgan couldn't help but notice how much actual skin he could see on Seth's hands. A dusting of them, sure. Like raindrops on dense leaves, leaving the ground beneath safe and dry.

"Don't. Don't worry about that, Seth." Morgan smiled some and shrugged, "I. I made a bad deal or two. Had to get myself out of the Order or... well it wouldn't have been pretty for anyone." He rubbed at his neck a little, frowning, "Look. There's. There's hard news I have to give you, Seth. Before you get out and about in the world." How to do this? How to tell him? How to tell this kid...

"Seth, he's dead. Amadeo." He swallowed a little and sighed, "Faerie time goes. Everything goes so different."

"Oh."

The youth was plainly unsure how to take the news. Elation that he was not going back to it mingled with the knowledge that someone who'd raised him (poorly, but had all the same) was dead. He took a slow breath, "Well. I. I did not see that one coming." The boy pulled one knee up to his chest, watching the man, "So. So where were you? All those years? I was... Morgan, I was five when Aislea gave me to him for apprenticing. Five, Morgan."

The last word came out with a lot more emotion than he had intended.

For all he'd tried to emulate Mabhe's stone-face over the years, it would appear that seven years was simply not enough. Seth took a breath and shook his head, "How. How is she? My birth-mother?" Lugh's, did she think he was dead?

Did he want her to? Finding new parents had to be at least as emotionally trying as finding you had a not-dead child.

Morgan was quiet then before taking a deep breath.

"Oh, Seth."

So many dead.

"Seth, she's dead, too. An accident. Her house burnt down and..."

Morgan hung his head, "Seth, I'm sorry, I. I wish I knew what to tell you."

The youth stared at Morgan for a long time.

He was torn between reactions for a moment, emotions flitting across his face as he tried to process it.

It shouldn't have been a real matter. A real question.

Except that he wanted to meet her. Sometimes to gallantly forgive her. Sometimes to hold his hands out to her and demand an apology for every little puffy, half-unfeeling mark. There would be tears either way. Her son, stolen by the faeries, had come home. He had no skill to make her rich, but his presence would be enough. Sometimes, he would meet his father and they would have made a proper family.

Idle fantasies on those rare nights when he had had a fight with Mabhe and Seamus. Or when he was just lonely for another tallfolk.

"So," he said finally, "So I get to come and. And leave my mother and father and cousins and friends and castle. For just. For just you?" The word was less an accusation as it was a knife.

Hatred and declarations of inadequacy.

Yeah, Morgan was right at home.

"Not just me," he said quietly but firmly, "You have to siblings. Twins. Thessa and Corein. I." He licked his lips slowly, "And their mom would love to get to know you, Seth. I'd love to, too. I. I know it's really late in the game to be saying it, Seth, but I want a family."

Seth was vaguely aware that it should have calmed him.

It didn't.

"Oh, how wonderful for you. You get a family now. A bigger family. How wonderful for you," he spat, folding his arms over his chest, "Mabhe and Seamus? They do not have one. No luck with kids after centuries, Morgan. And when they do, something comes and takes them away. And..."

He gritted his teeth to shut himself up before taking a couple deep breaths. "I have always known I must return, Morgan. And. And Mabhe seemed so lonely."

So lonely.

Something they'd had in common. "And that does not mean I will have to be happy about it."

Morgan wanted to say that a proper parent wouldn't need a child. The child needed them. But Morgan didn't really have a leg to stand on.

"I'm. For what it's worth, Seth, I'm sorry I couldn't... I'm sorry for their pain. I wish there was a way to work around all of it." He shook his head some, looking away from the youth, "But I want you here. I want to be able to see you. To ask you over for dinner. To share things with you."

He shrugged, "To be a father, you know?"