It was love once with Cal’syee.

Something cloaked in the red of volatility and the all-consuming voraciousness of control; passionate, manipulative, and lauded with mutual ambitions that burnt so bright that it had consumed everything in its wake once she had realized Gabriel could no longer be under her influence.

After everything — Krakoa, losing his throne as Emperor, dying, he thought he wouldn't be able to ever get a second chance like this — holding a seat on Arrako’s Great Ring. But above even that? The discovery of his child, whom he had shared with and yet was hidden away by Cal’syee, had been life-altering. She had cited nonsense about wanting the baby to grow far away from both the intrigues of the Shi’ar throne and their influences. If Deathbird wanted nothing to do with their child, then fine, but Gabriel wasn't going to let another piece of his life be stolen away from him.

He had then gone on a search to turn over each and every corner of the universe just to find his very own piece of redemption. He just hadn’t expected to fall in love all over again somewhere along the way.

It was a different kind of love — a softer kind of love that didn't bleed the dark red he had become accustomed to. It was grounding yet firm, gentle but not weak, and patient but not enabling. Someone who could handle the sun without burning, who saw him not as Emperor Vulcan or the sum of all his potential, but just as Gabriel.

He had arrived past sunset that day, a little unusual but not unheard of, considering the political headache and duties that came with being part of Arrako’s Diplomatic Ring. His footsteps were heavy with a weary exhaustion; posture high, shoulders stiff, expression carved into an unreadable imperial calm.

He exhales.

But before he could even unfasten his collar — an excited trill echoed down the hallway. “PAPA’S HOME!!” All followed by the thundering of tiny feet across the floor, a flurry of feathers, and clumsy enthusiasm that attached itself to his leg.

His bright little star. Who was currently extending both arms towards him.

“UP. You were gone FOREVER,” they accused, all wrapped up with a demand, but one that Gabriel will always indulge. He scoops them up in his arms without hesitation, lifting them to his chest.

“I was gone for five hours,” he corrects. But his arms wrap around them tightly, forehead pressing to the top of their head, and breathing in the warm and comforting scent only his innocent babe could have — sweet and earthy, softly mixed along with the intertwined scents of himself and his partner.

“Come on, little bird. Let’s go hunt down your other parent before they think I kept you for myself.”

He was immediately answered with a cacophony of excited giggles.

Home at last.