Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail because if I did, then I wouldn't be that much of a troll as Mashima Hiro, aka 'Trollshima'.

A/N: Argh, this pairing wouldn't leave me alone! So a few snippets it is, into the life of the most dysfunctional family in the universe who lives in my AU world. First up, Larcade. Reading the main chapter is recommended but not required. Just understand that Mavis is alive in my AU if you don't want to read it.

Warnings: Much angst, Mavis alive and spoiling her baby, fatherly love (because Zeref's love is lethal and needs its own warning), blatant abuse and underestimation of Ankhseram's curse

I. Notes

OOO-OOO

Larcade was a prince. His mother was an empress and his father was an emperor, but everyone kept saying that they were good rulers too, so Larcade wanted to be a good prince too.

To be good you had to excel in everything, so Larcade was more diligent with his studies, extra careful about being nice to others, and made it a point to be polite and tried not to get in other people's way. He didn't know if it made him a good prince but he kept trying.

His mother at least certainly thinks so, because she showered him with kisses and hugs and it made Larcade warm and happy and bright inside whenever she told him how wonderful he was. But his father never told him anything, was never around really.

And Larcade tried to understand, because it had something to do with the time he tried to surprise his father one morning and ended up choking a sheet of suffocating darkness. He woke up with his mother hysterical by his side, his father predictably absent, and once Larcade's health was well they disappeared for weeks. They returned with his father more distant than ever, more closed off and aloof, and if his mother's hugs were tighter than usual he didn't say anything.

Larcade sometimes wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all, wanted to hide away and blame himself even though his mother assured him it was not his fault. She had explained why he had to stay away, how his father couldn't live with himself if he killed his own child and how his mother would assuredly look for a way to kill him herself if it happened.

It helped that his father had a reason for his distance but it didn't make the hurt go away. Didn't help how Larcade hated that his father was forced not to love him lest he killed him.

But he was a good prince, so he tried to be polite. Tried not to get in their way.

At eight years old, Larcade had already impressed his tutors by finishing the curriculum equal to that of a fifth year student at the Imperial Academy. His mother was delighted and went to prepare a tea party after exclaiming over how proud of him she was.

He smiled faintly at the silence of his room, the tips of his ears still red at his mother's proud cuddles, until he heard a slight rustle by his bedchambers. Curious, he lifted the curtains and was greeted to the sight of a tiny brown being with an eerily grinning face.

'It looks like a puppet,' Larcade thought bemusedly, thinking about that one time his mother took him to the Royal Theatre for a children's show. The puppet-like being panicked at his attention and skittered away, tiny purple-black cape flapping.

It left something, much to his surprise. A small wooden chest. After checking it for hexes or curses, he decided it was safe. It contained a few yellowing scrolls in bronze tubes, and Larcade was delightedly shocked to find teachings on light magic when he unfurled them. These were topics he desperately wanted to learn ever since his alignment towards light magic was revealed but didn't have the means to search about. He thought it was only available in the royal library…

A piece of paper fluttered to the ground and Larcade bent down to take it, realizing that it had been sitting on top of the strange chest and that he had ignored it in favor of opening the box instead. Flipping it open, he found a single word on it, written with a neat, elegant script.

Congratulations.

Heart beating faster, Larcade inspected the note with wide eyes. The ink was deeply embedded in the paper, as if writing the words came with a great strain and effort on the author's part. There was a curl in the way the letter 'c' was written, a little loop that was almost invisible. The letter 'o' was narrower, just like how Larcade wrote it. The way the letter 't' was slashed was the same as his too, slightly longer, angled upwards.

A gift that could only come from their family library, a small note of congratulations, and a person who can break into his quarters...

Only two people can enter his rooms without permission, and his mother preferred to voice out her praises.

So then the note...

It was from his father.

From his father!

He inspected the note once more. He really had the same handwriting as his father...

Another beat later and his grin widened. He had note and a gift from his father.

Larcade bounded out of his rooms and ran, feeling like he could bounce around all day.

Wait till his mother sees this!

Years went by and those little messages and presents continued to come along with that little brown puppet.

Get well soon, was accompanied with a basket of fruits, sweets and a handful of board games enough to entertain a little boy during that one time Larcade was inflicted with dragon pox. It had brightened his sickly pallor more than any medicine could.

Well done, was delivered along with the second half of the scrolls Larcade had gotten from his father's first message. It was part of a set, and he had been too young to attempt to practice the second part. But he had finished the Imperial Academy curriculum in four years less and broke the records for the Civil Services Exam as its youngest taker so Larcade didn't think it would take him long to master it at all.

Be brave, was written with a casket filled with protective charms when he began his two-year sabbatical with Master Zhao in the mountains of Quigong in order to control his magic better. Larcade had been terrified, a thirteen-year old leaving the safety of the castle and his mother's arms, but the funny puppet appeared and Larcade read the note and slowly, he wasn't scared anymore.

Welcome back, came the evening he returned to the castle, and even though his father was absent during the gala party his mother arranged, Larcade smiled at the amount of heavy enchantments and protective runes inked into the two broadswords that appeared on his weapons drawer along with the now-familiar piece of paper folded neatly above it.

I'm proud of you, was the one Larcade treasures the most, not only because of the meaning of the words but because he had been given the opportunity to be his father's guard and prove his capabilities not only as a skilled magic user, but as a good—no, wonderful prince of Alvarez. There was no better gift.

And finally, it was the note he valued the most because it had contained an extra word at the end, a three-letter word that made Larcade feel his father's presence more strongly despite seeing him only a few times in his life.

Son.

I'm proud of you, son.

He could only imagine how much his father had struggled with his curse just to write that one word down.

Zeref had never called him that before. Never acknowledged him as his child.

And that was when Larcade realized the enormity of his parents' love for him.

Because his father might never be near him, might never be able to show his care visibly, but he cared through the little notes and gifts he had to fight his curse with just to write and deliver throughout the years. To many, it might not be enough. But to Larcade, whose father was burdened everyday with the weight of a curse, it showed just how much he cared.

And to him it was enough.

Because his father and mother might be good rulers.

But they were far more wonderful parents.

A/N: Yeah, I'm gonna go dunk my head now. P.S., can you guess who that 'puppet' was? lol.