Actions

Work Header

Some Memories of One Warlock Dowling

Summary:

Warlock Dowling knew only one motherly figure throughout his life. Said figure was his childhood nanny, Antonia Ashtoreth.

Nanny, as she was called, was Warlock’s favorite person in the world. She was the only one who was always there to dust off his scraped knee, give him kisses when she tucked him in, and she was the only one who taught him how to properly grind slugs beneath his heels. He loved her, and she loved him right back.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

Warlock Dowling knew only one motherly figure throughout his life. Said figure was his childhood nanny, Antonia Ashtoreth. (He’d always liked the alliteration of her name. Once he knew what alliteration was, of course.) She had taken care of him for as long as he could remember, and even before, with her career at the Dowling household beginning when he was only a few weeks old.

Nanny, as she was called, was Warlock’s favorite person in the world. She was the only one who was always there to dust off his scraped knee, give him kisses when she tucked him in, and she was the only one who taught him how to properly grind slugs beneath his heels. He loved her, and she loved him right back.

He grew to like the family gardener, Brother Francis, almost as much as his Nanny. The only problem was that Nanny and Brother Francis had very different views of how to treat the world. Nanny taught him to conquer everything in his path, while Francis took care to teach him to be kind to even the smallest of creatures.

Warlock sometimes thought back to his childhood and the two figures who raised him. Occasionally, his mind would wander towards them and wonder what they were doing in the same moment. He hoped they were still as happy as they had been when he was a boy.

The nightly dreams that often visited the young man were fond memories from his youth. Some fonder than others, but all of them could never be forgotten.

Chapter Text

The year Warlock turned six was the year he first learned about love. What was real, and what was not. He was a clever child and quickly realized that his parents were not in love. At least, not anymore. His Father worked too much, and his Mother drank too much. They hardly spoke forty-seven words to each other. (Warlock remembered that number, because that was as high as he could count.)

The only real love he ever witnessed as a child was from Nanny Ashtoreth. Warlock knew that Nanny liked to pretend that she didn’t love anything. But he knew that she loved three things for sure:

  1. She loved the color black. (He never saw her in anything else.)
  2. She loved yelling at the other staff. (Never at him, though.)
  3. She loved him. (Obviously.)

Of course, he tried to guess at what else Nanny could love. Because everyone has to love more than just three things. Warlock, for example, loved many things. His Nanny, the squishy sound slugs make when you step on them, the flowers that grew around the backyard, airplanes, trucks, and the ocean. There were so many things Warlock Dowling loved, that he was certain he’d never be able to count them all. Because of course, there were definitely more than forty-seven things he loved.

Chapter Text

Playing in the backyard was one of Warlock’s favorite pastimes. That was where he could learn and play, at the same time! It was astounding to young Warlock that learning could be so fun. He picked up his love for learning from their gardener, Brother Francis. The two would sit together for hours talking about the beauty of the plants around them.

Until Nanny appeared to give her opinion of them. “This one’s got spots all o’er it!” Nanny exclaimed, glaring at the flowering bush. (Warlock didn’t know where Nanny was from, but he liked listening to her say words in her funny accent. He would never tell her that he found her accent funny, as that would earn him Nanny’s wrath for at least a week. And Nanny’s wrath is something Warlock was determined to never experience.) “Useless and flawed!” The leaves started shaking from a breeze Warlock couldn’t find.

“Really, now!” Brother Francis stepped in. “That is hardly how I would describe this flower.”

Warlock watched Nanny sigh. “And how would you describe it?”

“It’s trying.” The gardener plucked the prettiest flower from the bush and tucked it into Nanny’s hand. “And I, for one, am astounded at its beauty. No matter what the world throws at it, it will always find a way to flourish.”

Chapter Text

Warlock was digging in the dirt for worms to squish one afternoon when he looked up and saw Nanny and Brother Francis talking. They were sitting together on a bench beneath the… oak tree? Warlock knew Brother Francis had told him which it was, but now he wasn’t sure.

Deciding the type of tree didn’t matter, Warlock watched as Brother Francis made Nanny laugh. Laugh! Nanny never laughed unless Cain, the butler, got his shoelaces tied together. Warlock learned quickly how to earn a smile from the woman he loved most in the world. Most of the ways were causing trouble to members of the Dowling staff, other than Nanny and Brother Francis, of course.

He kept watching as Brother Francis handed Nanny some flowers with a shy smile. Nanny positively beamed back at him, before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. She stood up and began making her way towards Warlock as the boy leaned to look around her at the man still seated on the bench.

Warlock didn’t remember Brother Francis ever looking like… that. He was red! But he was smiling so much it looked like his face was hurting. He looked up as Nanny came to a stop in front of him, the flower tucked into her hair. “Found any creatures to destroy yet, my little hellspawn?”

Chapter Text

Warlock remembered when his father took a liking to Nanny when he was eight years old. He was passing by the window of his father’s office with Brother Francis when he spied the black skirts of his nanny peeking out from behind the partially open door to the hallway inside. “–not married?” he caught the end of his father’s question through the open window.

“Mr. Dowling,” Nanny’s voice was harder than usual, “I am quite married. As are you.”

“Master Warlock, it is not right to eavesdrop,” Brother Francis scolded him.

“But Nanny just said that she was married!”

“Did she?” Brother Francis’ face fell into an emotion that young Warlock couldn’t identify.

“I hardly see a ring, Mrs. Ashtoreth,” Mr. Dowling continued.

Warlock and Brother Francis heard a rustling, “I always wear it close to my heart,” Nanny countered.

Warlock looked to the gardener for an explanation. “A necklace,” his voice was choked. “She always wears a ring on a necklace.”

“How do you know that?” Warlock asked.

Brother Francis wasn’t paying attention to him. “He kept it?” he muttered to himself.

“Brother Francis?” Warlock tugged the gardener’s coat. “Who kept what?”

“Hm?” that seemed to snap the man out of his reverie. “Oh, I… Master Warlock, I think we should move along. Don’t want your father, or your nanny for that matter, catching us out here.”

The fear of Nanny’s wrath for eavesdropping hurried Warlock away from the window.

Chapter Text

Warlock let himself be tucked in each night. He usually went to sleep with no fuss, but he knew that today would be different. “Nanny,” Warlock said after she had finished tucking him into bed, the day after overhearing her conversation with his father.

“Yes, dearie?” she turned from the door, her eyebrows arching a little over her glasses.

“Can I ask you a question? And do you promise you won’t get mad?” he poked his eyes over the edge of the covers.

Nanny walked back to the chair that was next to his bed and gracefully set herself into it. “Knowledge is a gift, my dear boy. I would never punish you for asking questions.” Her face had grown dark, but Warlock could tell the feeling was a memory, and had nothing to do with him. (He really was a clever boy.)

Warlock pushed the covers back a little more. “Why do you tease Brother Francis?”

Nanny’s head snapped back in surprise. “Whatever do you mean?”

“We overheard you and Father talking yesterday,” he whispered. “You said that you were married.” His eyes were fixed anywhere except his Nanny’s face. “Brother Francis looked so sad, Nanny,” he finally worked up the courage to look at her. “Why do you pretend that you like him if you’re already married? He loves you, I think.”

Nanny’s face softened more than it ever had in Warlock’s presence. “Oh, my dear, I am married, but it isn’t what you think.”

“What?” Warlock sat up in the bed. “How could it not be? I mean, you wink at him all the time, and go to his house late at night, and call him angel, and…” his voice trailed off. “Oh. You love him, too. But what about your husband?”

“Francis is my husband, dear.” Nanny pulled a necklace from underneath her tie. “Now, not in the traditional sense, but neither of us are nay much for tradition. He made me this many years ago,” she undid the clasp of the chain and placed the crude ring into Warlock’s palm. “He was so proud of his work, I didn’t have the heart to tell him how ugly it was.” Warlock laughed, trying the ring on his different fingers. “I never loved him more than when he gave me this ring,” her voice was soft as she carefully took the gold back and replaced it onto the necklace. “I suppose it was his way of asking me to marry him, even if he didn’t realize it.”

“And you said yes to that, right? You didn’t make him get you a prettier ring?”

“Do you really believe me to be that vain?” Nanny chided him, but with a smile tugging at the corners of her painted lips. “Of course I said yes. We’ve been together for a very long time.”

“But you two are so different!”

Nanny chucked. “My little hellspawn, you don’t know the half of it. But I love him regardless, and I know he feels the same.”

“Then why do you have different names?” Warlock thought about all the married couples he’d interacted with at his parents’ fancy parties.

“We don’t. His name is Francis Ashtoreth. But since everyone simply calls him Brother Francis, he never needs to say his last name.” She shrugged, “It works well when we want to get jobs together.”

“People won’t hire you if you’re married?”

“They worry that we won’t focus on work, instead focusing on each other. Any more questions?” Warlock shook his head and Nanny stood, tucking him back into bed. “Now, to sleep with you.”

Warlock didn’t argue as she tightened the blankets around him. “I love you, Nanny.”

Nanny’s hands were gentle, “I know, my dear.”

“Will you tell Brother Francis I say goodnight?”

Another small smile graced the sharp yet beautiful features of Nanny Ashtoreth. “Of course, dearie.”

Chapter Text

Warlock slept well almost every night. Unless he had a nightmare or if it were storming, he would be out like a light from 8 o’clock at night until 7 the next morning. Tonight was different. There was no bad dream, no thunder or lightning. Yet, he couldn’t sleep.

He was waiting. Waiting with his eyes closed, he told himself. After all, Nanny had promised to tell Brother Francis goodnight for him, and he lived in his own tiny cottage beside the main house. She would have to leave from the door directly downstairs in order to fulfill her promise.

Warlock’s eyes cracked open when he heard the kitchen door below him open and close. He wiggled out from underneath his covers and hurried to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the black shadow that would be brushing down the path towards the gardener’s small home. His eyes strained to follow the movement, pushing his cheek against the cool glass to get a better glimpse of the yellow-orange ray of light bursting from the open door.

He watched his Nanny quicken her pace at the end of the path before launching herself at the gardener. The two of them hugged for what seemed like ages to young Warlock Dowling, and he could only faintly hear their laughter. He watched the two of them go into the cottage hand-in-hand and he smiled, clambering back into his bed and falling into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

“Are you two going to be living together now?” Warlock asked the morning after his talk with Nanny. Brother Francis looked up from the plant he was tending. “You and Nanny, I mean. She told me she was married to you.”

“Master Warlock, as much as I’d love to, I don’t believe it would be allowed.”

“Mum wouldn’t even notice!” Warlock insisted. “She’s always asleep by 7 anyway. And Father is never home.”

Brother Francis sighed. “Your parents could send us away for the smallest thing, Master Warlock.”

“I wouldn’t let them!” he swore. “If they made you leave, I would leave too.”

A kind smile crossed the gardener’s face, making him look twenty years younger. “It’s a lovely offer, Master Warlock. But Antonia and I are just fine where we are.”

“You don’t understand!” Warlock stamped his foot. “I’ve never seen Nanny so happy. Before I knew you were married, I thought she had a crush on you! She always smiled when you were around, and I could get away with eating more than one cookie if you were in the kitchen at the same time as we were.” His face fell, “I don’t want to be why you never get to see each other.”

“My boy,” Francis dusted his hands off on his jacket before he stood to embrace Warlock. “You are the reason we do get to see each other. Without you, we would have had to get jobs in different places, and maybe we’d never be together. We are perfectly happy here.”

“You’d be happier if you got tucked in by Nanny,” Warlock looked at him. “Nanny also reads the best stories.”

“Does she now?” Francis looked behind Warlock and winked. When he turned, there was only a black and red snake peering at them from the grass. He thought he saw the snake wink back, but decided that it was a trick of the light when the gardener resumed speaking. “Careful now, Master Warlock. You don’t want to upset him,” Brother Francis gently steered the boy away from the snake.

“Will he bite me?”

“As long as you treat him with respect, he’ll have no reason to. He just likes listening to you. I think he would like for you to tell him a story.”

Warlock sat down in the grass. “Well, my Nanny tells the best stories,” he began talking to the snake as Brother Francis resumed his duties. “But I suppose I can tell you some of them.” The snake stared at him, his tongue flicking around occasionally.

Chapter Text

Warlock yelped when the snake reared back. Brother Francis spun around and immediately located the reason for his change in behavior. A mouse hadn’t spotted the snake yet, and was meandering its way through the underbrush of the garden. The snake’s yellow eyes were locked onto the target as he prepared to strike.

His body was snatched out of midair by the gardener when he lunged. Startled hissing came from the wriggling animal. “Absolutely not, Crowley!” Brother Francis admonished. “We do not eat mice!” The snake hung limp in his arm, head tilted back in surprise. “Yes, you heard me. Now off with you.” He set the snake back in the grass, turning him away from the mouse that was now long gone. “Go on,” he insisted. There were a few noises of protest that came from the serpent before he disappeared into the brush. “Hmph.”

“That was so cool!” Warlock cheered.

Never pick up an animal like that, Master Warlock,” Brother Francis hurried. “Snakes can be very dangerous when not handled properly. I don’t want you to get bitten.”

“How come you can do it?”

“Because Crowley and I have known each other for a very long time and I know he would never bite me.”

“You’re friends with a snake?”

“I’m friends with all the animals, Master Warlock. As you should be.”

“I’m not friends with the slugs. They’re gross.”

“One could say that about me.”

Warlock gasped. “You’re not gross, Brother Francis! You’re special,” he remembered how he was taught that everyone is different, and no matter how different from you they are, no one is ever weird. Everyone is special. “And Nanny says you’re hot to the cooks when she thinks I’m not around.”

Brother Francis blushed as red as the roses around him. “Well, I…”

“Francis, darling?” Nanny called from across the yard. Warlock stood as Nanny approached them. Before she had the chance to speak, Warlock was darting away to find some new creature to terrorize.

Chapter Text

When Warlock woke up in a panic in the middle of the night, he rushed down the stairs and out into the garden. “Nanny!” he shouted.

Rustling and grumbling came from inside the cottage before the door opened and his nanny appeared, looking a bit disheveled. Her glasses were clearly placed on her face quite quickly and her red hair was loose and unstyled. It was a side of her that Warlock had never seen before. She looked tired and, dare he say it, human. Not that he thought of Nanny as an alien, she was just different. She tightened the short black robe around her waist and looked down in surprise. “Warlock! Is something the matter?”

“I had a bad dream,” he said. “Can I stay with you and Brother Francis tonight?” Even since his first nightmare, he never thought of going to anyone other than his Nanny for comfort.

Nanny’s face softened into an expression she rarely wore. “Of course, dearie.”

“Master Warlock!” Brother Francis grinned, peering out from behind Nanny. “I’m glad you came for us.”

“He came for me,” Nanny muttered, brushing past the gardener and flipping a bit of hair over her shoulder.

Warlock snickered and entered the cottage, letting the door swing shut behind him. As Warlock settled into the bed, he noticed a golden glint from Nanny’s left hand. “You’re wearing the ring,” he said sleepily, pointing to her finger.

“It was time, dear,” she kissed his forehead before glancing towards Francis with a fond smile gracing her lips. He grinned back, waving gently to her as he set another log in the fireplace. “It was time.”

Chapter Text

When Warlock turned nine, he came to the realization that Nanny wouldn’t be his, well, nanny forever. She would move on and love some other little boy, just as she had loved him. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered how many little boys there had been before him.

Suddenly, he felt very betrayed. She was his nanny, and his alone! He would rather die, no, that’s not quite right; he would rather give up his PlayStation in order to keep Nanny with him forever. And he was sure to tell her that.

“How many other boys have you taken care of?” Warlock asked as he helped his nanny peel apples one afternoon. Nanny had insisted that they bake a pie for the gardener, because it was “tempting him to eat the forbidden fruit.”

“None,” Nanny said. “It’s only been you.”

“No girls, either?”

“No girls.”

Warlock was confused. “Why not?”

Nanny continued to work her knife across the peel of the apple. “I knew you were special, and that I had to be a part of your life. There’s no one else like you.”

“Oh,” was all Warlock could say. “Are you going to take care of someone else when I grow up?”

Nanny looked at him sideways through her glasses and he caught a glimpse of her amber eyes. “No, I think not.”

Warlock couldn’t believe it. Here she was, telling him that she was just his nanny. That there had never been another child, nor would there ever be. “So what will you do?”

Nanny wiped her hands on her skirt, encouraging Warlock to do the same to his trousers.  “I think Francis and I shall retire to the countryside. Start our own garden.”

“With your own kids?”

“Oh, no. No children.”

“Why not?”

Nanny sighed. “Francis and I cannot have children, little hellspawn.”

Warlock scrunched his face up, confused. “Why not?”

“Well…” Nanny sighed again and sat Warlock down at the kitchen table. “I’m not always…”

“My nanny?” Warlock offered.

“That, but also…” Nanny was clearly struggling to tell him something.

“Sometimes you’re a boy, like me?”

Nanny looked taken aback. “How-?”

“Brother Francis talks about his husband sometimes. And I know he only loves you, so he must be talking about you.”

“Perceptive little bugger, aren’t you?” Nanny smiled, her shoulders relaxing.

Warlock shrugged, “I guess.”

Nanny stood up and reached for Warlock’s hand. “Come, dearie. Let’s finish that pie.”

Chapter Text

The first time Warlock saw Nanny in trousers was when he was shopping with his mother for new clothes. They were having a dinner party that evening, and his mother wanted him to have a nice suit.

Warlock spotted red hair through the crowd and darted forward. “Nanny!”

A man turned around and Warlock stopped, ready to apologize, when he noticed a familiar tattoo and an ugly gold ring. Nanny had his hair pulled back into a half-bun, a style so casual that it almost knocked Warlock backwards. “Hellspawn!” Nanny smiled, clearly happy to see him. “What’re you doing here today?”

Warlock noticed that Nanny didn’t sound any different. He had the same accent as always. “Shopping with Mum. We’re having a fancy party tonight. Will you be there?”

“Of course,” Nanny pulled a long black dress from a shopping bag. “I had to find something to wear.”

“Anthony, I found a Cinnabon!” Another familiar voice cut through the crowd. “Oh, hello, Warlock!”

“Hi, Brother Francis!” Warlock beamed. “Are you coming to the dinner tonight?”

“Oh, I’m not sure if I would fit in.”

“Nonsense,” Nanny brushed him off. “You’ll be there with me,” Nanny smiled, getting the soft expression that Warlock saw only once in a blue moon (whatever that meant).

“Warlock?” Harriet Dowling called.

“See you tonight, Nanny! Bye, Brother Francis!” Nanny waved him away and Warlock turned to see Nanny and Brother Francis holding hands and sharing a cinnamon roll.

Chapter 13

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Warlock hated parties. His parents had thrown them monthly for longer than he had been alive, he knew that much. Parties were the worst. He had to wear fancy clothes and use his manners with adults he didn’t know. There were never any other children around for him to play with. But Nanny was always there, helping him get into just enough trouble to keep the evening from being boring.

He grumbled as his Nanny finished tying the bow around his neck. “Don’t you look handsome,” she smiled.

Warlock only shrugged, scratching at the styling gel in his hair. “When do we get to eat?”

Nanny shook her head, “Just like Francis. Always focused on the food.” She straightened up and checked her own reflection in the mirror. “I believe dinner is at eight.”

“That’s so late!” Warlock complained. “Can we sneak into the kitchen for a snack or something?”

Nanny tried to hide a smile. “That’s hardly proper manners, dear.” Warlock shrugged again, smiling back. “I’m so proud of you.”

A knock at the door announced the arrival of Brother Francis. Warlock stuck his face against the keyhole of the door. He saw the gardener in a brown suit with a bunch of flowers in his hand. “What’s the password?”

“Oh, dear…” Francis muttered. “Password?”

“Nope.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to guess, Master Warlock.”

“That’s also not it.”

“The password is slugs,” Nanny spoke loudly from the mirror as she finished putting on her earrings.

“Nanny!”

Notes:

Thanks for sticking with me!

Chapter Text

Warlock learned how to dance from his Nanny. She was thrilled to teach him, saying Francis was no good as a student. (She was saying how he had two left feet, which Warlock thought was impossible.) He learned how to waltz when he was seven, and had mastered the tango by ten. It was a monthly tradition for the pair to put on a dance show for Brother Francis.

Warlock found himself rushing back to the small house after one such performance, realizing he had forgotten his normal shoes. Harriet would be furious that he was running about in the garden’s muck in his best shoes.

He stopped when he got to the door, hearing music playing. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a strong urge to peek in the window before knocking on the door. Warlock was glad he did.

He saw Nanny and Brother Francis swaying quietly back and forth, her head tucked into his shoulder. This was the first time he ever saw them so close together. It was also the first time he saw Nanny without her glasses. Brother Francis was saying something, but it was too quiet for Warlock to hear. He pushed closer to the window, wanting to hear whatever they were talking about.

Nanny picked her head up and kissed Brother Francis’ cheek. “I told you it wasn’t that hard, angel.”

“Not with a teacher like you, my dear.”

Warlock backed away from the window, smiling. Maybe ruining his best shoes would be worth it. Just this once.

Notes:

Please remember that these are short memories! I'm sorry the chapters won't be as long as most of my other works. I do hope you will still enjoy. :)