Imperfection
A BTL Side Story
By Invader-Hime
King Berkov jotted down some notes in his memoirs anxiously. He bit his lip sharply as he did so, chewing it as his wrote the last sentence word for word from the doctor’s notes.
...irreparable damage, rendering any future childbearing impossible.
It was that thing’s fault.  If it hadn’t been for that thing, his life would be perfect.  He’d have his perfect heir and they’d have more perfect children and their lives would be happy.  What a joke!  That would never happen.  It couldn’t happen.  Thanks to that little monstrosity, their lives would be miserable.  They’d wanted and prayed so hard for so long...to have that little...little THING thrown in their face was abominable.  It was an insult to every dream he’d ever had.  At least they had Albert.  Albert with his bright blue eyes, pale skin and light voice.  So unlike his brother.  Kevin was a twisted mockery of a child.  He was positively inhuman.  A jumbled mix of pieces and mismatches.  Even his voice was vile and gravelly.  Kevin was a distortion of everything they wanted.  He seemed to exist just serve as a reminder for what he couldn’t have.  He couldn’t give Ilsa the little girl she wanted.  He hadn’t even been able to give her he two boys without help from magic and only one of those was worth anything.  He’d tried to rid himself of the other,  He sometimes wished he had.
The king heard a yowling and he looked up from his writing to see Ilsa chasing after their accursed offspring who had once again decided to abandon its cloak.  It scrambled around the ground on all...six and squealed, as if the entire display was some kind of game.  Ilsa was using meaningless words to try to get the boy to return upstairs.or at least put his cloak back on.  The little thing laughed as its mother chased after it, it was a distasteful, metallic sound.  
The king got up and left his study.  He strode out into the hall purposefully and seized Kevin’s cloak from Ilsa’s grasp.  He managed to corner the little ball of limbs  and it laughed at him.  It giggled with hideous child-like glee.  This little beast had hurt Ilsa so terribly when it was born.  It continued to hurt her by reminding of her of her failure.  This thing had to be carved out of her when it had come into the world.  It had torn her up...torn their dreams up.  He hated it.  Poor little devil didn’t even realize that.  It looked up at him with mismatched, grotesque eyes.
“Daddy!” he squalled in that disgusting garbled voice.
It was the final straw.
Berkov slapped its twisted little face and the little thing was sprawled on the floor.
Ilsa shrieked.
“Be quiet.  Your whole problem is you don’t have control over him.  You let him run around with no real boundaries.  He needs to learn where he belongs,” the King said icily.
He seized Kevin by the scruff of his little shirt and roughly yanked him up.
“Walk on your two legs, boy.  What’s wrong with you? Crawling around on the ground like an animal.  Shameful!”
He pulled the cloak over its warped little body and pulled the hood over its face.  Oversized little hands pulled it back.  The king promptly slapped him again and pulled it back over.
“Berkov...stop,” Ilsa managed to whisper.
Those little hands fumbled for the hood again and Berkov raised his hand.  Those quick, ugly eyes widened when they noticed that motion.  The hands disappeared under the cloak and the head tipped downwards.  The oversized toddler visibly shook.
“Go to your room,” Berkov snapped.
Kevin didn’t move for an instant, but slowly started to ease by his father and then made a mad dash for his mother’s leg.  Ilsa patted his head through the cloak.  It was so much easier to deal with him like that.  Standing up like that, with his unpleasantness covered up...she could pretend he was a little normal boy.
“Go upstairs, Kevin,” she asked calmly.
She saw the little head bob in a nod and he slunk away like a struck dog.
Ilsa turned to her husband.
“I really wish you didn’t have to hit him,” Ilsa whispered.
“For goodness sake, I don’t beat him.  He’s a fast learner.  He won’t make that mistake again.  He needs to understand that he needs to behave,” Berkov said matter-of-factly.  His expression softened.
“I just...can’t stand what he did to you and what he continues to do to you,” the king’s hand gently cupped her cheek.
“He...he’s just a baby.  He didn’t...doesn’t mean..” Ilsa stammered and was unable to finish.  Berkov held her close and looked into her large brown eyes and he kissed his wife tenderly.
..................
As soon as Kevin was upstairs, he yanked his robe off and tore down the hall to his room on all six of his mismatched limbs.  He slammed the door and dove into a pile of his toys.  He looked around and saw that none were like him.  They all had pretty eyes and two arms and two  legs.  The only ones that differed were the animals and even they were perfect.
Maddened at the indignity of what he endured, the prince tore their limbs off.  Then their heads.  He pulled their stuffing out as he boiled with silent rage.  Hot, humiliated tears slid down his face as he lost himself to the mindless rage he found himself in.  When he stopped, he looked around at his handiwork.  He’d ruined all of those perfect things.  Panting and exhausted, an idea occurred to him.  He suddenly felt very sorry for destroying them.  They hadn’t hurt him.  They couldn’t help being perfect anymore than he could help being imperfect.  Frowning, he began to solemnly pick up the pieces.  
As he did so, he got another idea.
.........

When his mother came in later to make sure he was alright, she found Kevin fast asleep in his bed.  Clutched tightly in his little orange paws was a toy she had never seen before.  It had several different kinds of arms and legs,  a bird foot and a dragon foot.  One arm was a vulpimancer’s while another was a Ghostling tentacle.  Its tail was green and long with a pair of dragon wings on its back.  The closer she looked, the more Ilsa realized it was actually made of many toys that had been clumsily sewn together.  She peered around the room and found the scraps of whatever he hadn’t used to make the toy and her lips trembled.  
He had been making a toy that looked more like him.  He was aware of why it was she and her husband couldn’t stand to see him without all his umpleasantness covered up.
Ilsa walked back over and looked at her poor, ugly, imperfect child.
He was curled up clinging to that little doll.  
Two little imperfect things curled up together.
Her heart shattered again.