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Chapter Text

"Wakey wakey Tommy, get up-!"

   The sound of flesh being smacked with a solid object seems to echo like a cannon blast against the walls of the cramped makeshift tent. Flinching and gritting his teeth from the small spike of pain blooming from the now newly forming bruise on his cheek, Tommy sits up in his bed and turns towards his only "friend"; sagging slightly in relief as his attacker turns away and walks out of the tent instead of taking the chance to go after him again. Subtly he glares at his green-clad warden's back, quickly hiding a violent flinch as Dream lifts his hand. He doesn't relax for even a moment despite the fact the stick he'd been hit with has been packed away in the other's inventory.

"Hurry up. We need to talk."

   No. Please please no- Quickly standing up Tommy makes his way out of the tent and stands just outside the door. He's greeted with the sight of a pit dug into the ground not far from his home- Dream stands on the other side, his arms crossed behind his back. Staring into the same blank face that has been haunting his existence for months now Tommy walks forward, his hands up in surrender as he stumbles over his words in an attempt to make the man reconsider. 

"D..D-dream please I-.. I was only getting a bit of iron for some new tools, my old ones are nearly busted and I-"

   The admin lifts one of his hands in a silent command for the blond to stop. A soft almost sad chuckle hums from behind his mask. Clicking his tongue in mock disappointment he tilts his head to the side, the blank stare of his ever present porcelain face pinning the once rambunctious teen where he stands.

"Come on now, you know the drill. You know this is for your benefit. I'm your friend aren't I? I know what's best for you. Do it."

   Clenching his fists Tommy stares at the ground, his eyes clouded over with unshed tears. What did he do to deserve this? Why the hell was this existence. All he'd done was open a small tunnel for some iron, he hadn't broken any rules. Before he can sink deeper into his thoughts he takes note of Dream reaching out, as if grabbing something from his inventory. Acknowledging the implied threat Tommy opens his inventory and grabs all his new tools and supplies he'd gathered the day before. Without a second moment of hesitation he tosses them into the pit and goes back to staring at the ground, silently hoping his compliance won't result in another swing of the other's blunt weapon. He never looks away, not even when he hears the familiar sound of items being placed and flint being lit. Not even when he hears the careful steps of his captor approaching him. All he can do is silently curse Him out in his mind, even as he feels a calloused hand pat his head like an older sibling would do to a younger.

"See? I knew you had a brain in there. Don't worry you'll thank me in the end. Now listen- The others are gathering up for a party soon, I won't be back here for at least a month. You're on your own till then. Don't die."

   As a show of mercy to solidify the teens loyalty despite the heavy punishment Dream tosses him some food and then disappears with a soft pop. Hugging the food to his chest Tommy finally raises his head, pointedly ignoring the pit of burning items near him as he makes his way back into his tent. Plopping down on the broken down bed the tired blond sighs and slowly munches on some bread Dream had given him in the bundle he tossed.

   Before it can even begin he crushes a growing feeling of gratitude with overwhelming hate . That thing has earned nothing, he wasn't any supposed friend worth having. A true friend doesn't destroy others things, they don't starve their friends and isolate them from other people no matter what they supposedly did, and they definitely don't fucking hit them with-

   Crying out in rage as his dark thoughts rile him up Tommy launches to his feet and punches the nearest wooden post. Growling under his breath he clutches his now hurt hand to his chest with a curse. Goddamnit.

   Closing his eyes with a huff he leans forward and rests his head against the post, stubbornly ignoring the silent tears trailing down his cheeks. Slowly he breathes in and out as he tries to sort out his thoughts, And soon said efforts gradually bair fruit. With a sigh he thinks over his options, confidence and determination once lost now returning for the first time in months. This bullshit would not be the end of him. He'll get out of this even if it means he'll have to die trying.

   Using this regained fire in his veins Tommy opens his eyes and pulls away from the post, speeding over to his bed. Kneeling down he shoves the bed out of the way and uses his busted hands to dig away the dirt underneath. Ignoring the pain he lets a triumphant smirk light up his face as the removed dirt reveals a dusty, busted, but still useful chest. With a cautious glance around he hesitates for only a moment before opening the chest, smiling softly at the sight of a small bundle of supplies and a rugged leather jacket. Emptying the chest he tucks the supplies away in his inventory for later before leaving the tent with the jacket tucked under his arm. Using some bandages from the chest he bundles up and attempts to help his cracked and bleeding knuckles. Looking around Logstedshire he assesses what he has available to help him on his coming journey. Blinking a bit in realization he remembers the jacket and brings it back out, examining it with a wistful pained look as he thinks of the past. Of Wilbur. 

( A distant memory comes to him- He had been the one to get Will this jacket. It was supposed to be a gift for when Wilbur won the presidency. He'd given it to him after they'd escaped the scuffed coronation, the very first banishment when they had begun to establish themselves in Pogtopia. Will had smiled at him for the first time in weeks and he had started to fool himself into believing that things were finally going to be okay. )

  Gently stroking one of the patches on the shoulder of the coat he blinks away some tears and smiles as his decision is finalized. Shaking it out he steps away from the tent behind him while putting the jacket on, a determined shine in his eyes. Finally, finally he feels almost.. complete. 

   First item on the list- gathering additional supplies. Making his way to the pit he wrinkles his nose in distaste, the smell of cooling ash bringing some bad memories to the surface. Crouching to relieve the force he jumps down into the pit and starts to sift through the charred remains of his hard work in search of anything to salvage. With a cheer of victory he brushes ash off of a few cooling iron ingots and a diamond he'd mined the night before. Hyped up from the small victory he tucks the items away and climbs out of the pit. He can actually do this. He can get out of here.

   Despite the early start, it actually takes him a few days to gather everything he needs to make his escape. His progress is slowed from constantly stopping in case Dream decides to show up unannounced again. Nearly 4 days after making the decision to leave he's finally standing on the sandy shores of Logstedshire, chests of food and supplies in a boat docked in the sand. Staring at his old prison he smiles, chuckling at the sight of the creepers he'd managed to trap in his old tent wriggling around trying to escape. ( And what a pain in the ass that had been- took a couple tries and a dozen or so premature explosions before he managed to get them stuck without destroying everything too soon. Stupid fuckers. ) A little too excited to leave this damnable place he steps a bit too far into the Creeper's range, cursing a storm as Will's coat becomes slightly singed from the booming explosions. Smiling brightly Tommy laughs from the adrenaline rush, his eyes lighting up with hope and the reflection of the growing fire consuming Logstedshire. 

   After staring for a while he finally steps away from the chaos and marches over to a nearby hill,starting to tower up using random blocks in his inventory that he doesn't need. Still fueled by adrenaline and slight nerves as he prepares to fake his death he takes a moment to stare at the carnage around him. Nearly there. He's at the home stretch. Shaking out his hands and taking a deep breath he breaks through his nervousness and takes the plunge- jumping from the tower with an excited whoop. With a quick water bucket clutch he saves himself, chuckling shakily from the new wave of feelings. Almost free . Running to the boat he pushes it away from the beach and hops aboard, glancing back at the ruined camp behind him with a smile.

Fuck Dream, Fuck L'Manberg, and Fuck everyone else who left him to rot.

   As the war weathered teen rows away to freedom, the flames destroying the camp reach an abandoned chest. The chest slowly falls apart under the power of the blaze and out of its depths falls a single compass with a green bandana wrapped around it. An engraving saying Your Tubbo starts to blur from the metal warping heat.

   And for the first time in months, the needle of the compass moves .

Chapter Text

-Tommy, Month 1 of freedom-

If there is anything Tommy has learned during his journey so far, it's this.

1. He definitely should have packed more water.
2. Stopping by one of the sea towns he'd sailed past a few weeks before would have been a smart move
3. Should have learned how to fucking sail a boat years ago

   And yet despite all that, he doesn't feel an ounce of regret for leaving.

  Weary looking yet standing proudly on the bow of his boat stands Tommy. He glances down at the water below him and smiles from the sight of his reflection- Mild sunburn that shows signs of turning into a pleasant tan covers his once pale skin. Wilbur's jacket is tied around his waist, his trademark red shirt is a bit scuffed up and dirty with signs of hard work, and his blond hair has grown long enough he can almost pull it into a small ponytail. His hands are calloused, some fingers bandaged to protect blisters on his fingers. 

   Tommy steps away from the bow and walks to the center of the boat while taking a chest out of his inventory. Setting the chest down he immediately starts to dig through the contents, eventually pulling out a fishing pole and some bait. Setting down the pole for a moment he stands so he can unwrap Will's Jacket from his waist so he can tuck it into the chest. Once he's satisfied with how everything is packed he picks up the chest and returns it to his inventory. Stopping to pick up the pole again he moves back to the bow and preps the line, casts it out into the water; He watches the float on the fishing line bob in the water for a moment before casually plopping down on the pulpit so his toes can dip into the calm waves.

   As the banished teen turned sailor watches the float surf on each wave that passes, he thinks about the first month of travel he'd battled through. The warmth of the shining sun and the gentle breeze ruffling his hair soon lulls Tommy into a comfortable doze.

   The first couple of days had been terrifying. After the adrenaline had eventually worn off it had immediately been replaced with soul wrenching fear. What if Dream visits the camp while he's gone? What if he hadn't covered his tracks well enough, would his captor track him down and kill him? What if Dream decides to kill everyone in L'manberg because he left Logstedshire?

   Out of fear of being caught defenceless, he never slept. He managed to stay up for 3 nights before eventually passing out from exhaustion. When he woke a day later he panicked, not remembering where he was. Nearly managed to flip the boat while searching for his sword. Once calm he assessed where he was, and counted what happened as a blessing and a curse.

  His boat ( He had named it Freedom on his 2nd night sailing, trying to distract himself from his fear. He'd even balanced himself on the pulpit of the boat so he could carve the name on with his sword.) had drifted off course, sailing straight North instead of North-East. If Dream is following him, the change of course might distract him long enough for Tommy to continue his escape. Only problem now is Tommy definitely doesn't know where he's going. ( It was ages ago now, but he can vaguely remember traveling across the ocean with Will and Tubbo; Trying to find a good place for their revolution. They'd found a few towns but nothing else of interest, and eventually decided to just build the Camarvan near spawn. ) 

   Finding new confidence in the fact that if he doesn't know where he's going, Dream definitely doesn't, Tommy found himself relaxing and ultimately very bored. The days passed slowly. At one point he met some fishermen and trading ships sailing in boats larger than his own. They sailed the same way for a time, and became casual friends. They fished together, Cracked jokes together, exchanged stories over a fire one had started in a special portable metal fireplace that wouldn't light their ship on fire. 

   The fishermen gave him sailing and fishing advice, the traders gave him pointers on how to deal with stubborn salesmen and how to wrangle out the best deal, and when they went separate ways from him both groups gave him gifts of all kinds. He had tried to reject them, but they all had insisted. Called it payment for all the stories he'd told them. Now he has two shulkers in his inventory, a blue one from the fishermen and a gold one from the traders. Inside the gold shulkers are rows upon rows of more shulkers, some empty ("To help you store more treasures on your journey, Pumpkin!" Fayina, a cattle hybrid and one of the traders from some country south of where they were, had insisted. She had pressed the empty shulkers into his hands along with ones full of gifts from her and the others,despite his protests. Old, yet stubborn, she never relented till he agreed, smiling brightly and giving him a loving hug. "Stay safe for us, okay? Our home shall always be open to you in your time of need, so you better stop to visit ,yhear?" He had melted into the hug with a soft sigh,smiling into her shoulder despite the tears welling up in his eyes. 

"...Course I will Granny Fay." )

  Inside the blue shulkers are a few rows of fishing supplies, like poles and bait, and a few other rows hold more shulkers full of food. Inside both the gold and the blue shulkers, there are special purple shulkers full of personal and meaningful items he'd received from different members of both crews.

   A warm feeling in his chest brings a smile to Tommy's face at the thought of the new friends he had made, but with the warmth there also comes a sudden shock of cold. Blinking his eyes open with a jolt as he's knocked away from his thoughts, he's startled when he finds that the warm sun is no longer shining on his face. Harsh, biting rain pelts his face with surprising force and knocks him out of his stupor. Standing up quickly the blond immediately nearly falls overboard, a massive wave greeting him by slamming into the Freedom 's bow. Scrambling for a proper position Tommy moves to the stern in an attempt to keep the boat steady and to try to change the Freedom 's course away from the growing storm. 

  He fights for hours, the storm and him battling in an intense war of wills. Eventually crying out in anguish as wave after wave continues to swallow and spit out him and his boat, Tommy clings to the rails, giving up any attempt at trying to sail out. Instead he chooses to wait out the storm and pray this isn't the end.

   For one blissful moment, the waves stop slamming into him and he lets himself believe that it's over.

   The next thing he knows, agonizing pain starting from his head and working it's way down the rest of his body takes over. He blinks, and all he can see above him is the churning waves throwing around his beloved Freedom . He absently notes streaks of murky red flowing around him in the water, seeming to be coming from his head.

   As the broken teen sinks to the bottom of the sea he smiles, his tears mixing with the murky depths. His pained laughter echoes in his mind for only him to hear.

"How ironic." He muses to himself.

 "I used to wake up in the ocean, and now that I'm finally free the damn things killing me."

-3 days later, Unknown Fishing Town-

  The bustling activity of fishermen unloading their boats brings a constant air of life to the town. Villagers and travelers porous stands at the local market, while children chase each other through crowds with sticks and toys in their small hands. Folks of all social standings and backgrounds mingle in groups, some making their way to nearby taverns to exchange stories over drinks.

  A shrill cry suddenly rings out from the southern side of town, harshly interrupting the peace. A young boy runs into the town square, his face stricken with fear and grief as he screams for help. 

" os gweli di’n dda! Please! We need help- Someone call Old Gaffer, The Doctor, anybody! Captain pulled a boy out of the sea in his fishing nets!"

  For a moment there's stunned silence. Then suddenly as if a shot went off the crowd split off. Parents search for their children and hold them close. Fruit vendors, blacksmiths, farmers, people of all kinds converge together to run to the port. Some run off to alert the town guard and Old Gaffer, others run to find the town Doctor.

  Sitting in the parlour of an old but cozy home sit a small gathering of friends. 

  On a soft plushy red armchair sits a middle aged man. His short red and white streaked hair curls around a proud set of pearly white horns on his head, mushrooms nestled behind red cow ears. Soft forest green eyes with specks of blue sparkle with mischief behind a pair of round glasses as he teases one of his friends. He's dressed in brown travel gear, light armour under his clothes blend perfectly and give him a seemingly defenseless air. A pack of supplies sit near his feet with a sharp looking diamond axe.

  Across from the cheerful man, seated on a couch is an older couple. One of them is an older wolf hybrid dressed in a deep blue suit and tie- their wavy grey and black hair gives away their age along with a well trimmed Royale style beard. Sharp yellow eyes that shine with glee and the small smile on their face destroy any sense of aloofness they'd normally uphold. They try to hide their obvious amusement by sipping from a mug in their clawed hands but even that seems to fail since their tail can be seen thumping against the couch behind them. 

   Seated next to them sits a slightly younger hare hybrid in a fuzzy blue sweater. Soft chinchilla grey hair envelopes their head in a halo of curls, floppy bunny ears of the same color reach their shoulders. Like the red haired mooshroom hybrid sitting across from them they have green eyes, yet unlike the other their eyes are a more golden green rather than forest.

  Before the hare hybrid can jokingly reprimand their traveling friend for teasing their spouse, a villager runs into the parlour without knocking first to warn them. All three stop their conversation and turn to the man in shock, the hare swiftly standing to meet him in the middle of the room with a concerned look on their face.

"Aberforth?! Sweet Notch, what has gotten into you? Is your family alright?"

  The man nods and takes off his hat, clutching it hard to try and stop his shaking hands.

  "Begging your pardon sirs, me family's fine. It's the shipyard ye need ta get to Doc! Bernadette's youngest ladd came'a hollerin up the way from the pier, said ol'Captain Haddens drug some poor sod out the sea with his nets; just a young boy from wha' I heard. Farmer Finnegan said the ladd ain't older 'an 'is second eldest boy Sam!"

  Taking the news in a stunned stride the hare, now revealed to be the Doctor, turns to his husband with a determined glint in his eyes. "Fenris, please go make sure the med wing is prepped and ready, you know the drill love. Hamfast?" Here he turns to the red haired man who has since stood up after hearing Aberforth's story. "You're with me, I'm going to need your help carrying the ladd here. Let's head out now while the kid still has time-"

  With a grave look the man nods in agreement while rolling up his sleeves. "Course I'll help Isengrim. Lead the way."

  Jobs now settled, Isengrim and Hamfast head off to the pier while Fenris leaves the parlour to quickly change into more suitable clothes for the situation. Once ready he sprints to the med bay and gets to work preparing everything his husband will need upon his return, sitting in a chair when he's done working; wringing his hands as he worries over the fate of a boy he doesn't even know.

  Meanwhile, sprinting as fast as he can with Isengrim at his side, Hamfast can't help the growing fear rising in his chest as he dodges people still scattered on the streets of the town. Who left their child to suffer a fate like this? Why was this kid in the water in the first place? What if they don't save him in ti-

  Before he can finish that thought they make it to the pier. Hamfast pushes through the crowd with his larger body so that Isengrim can get to the kid faster. What he sees laying limply in a pile of netting and sea debris is a sight he hopes with all his heart he'll never have to bear witness to again.

...Who did this?

  A rail thin boy, seeming to be around the age of 15 or 16 lays in a heap in front of him. Blond hair is plastered to his forehead with a mix of sea water and blood. A large gash contrasts against his pale skin, starting from his hairline and stretching down his face; splitting the skin on his left eye and ending just above his lip. A ripped up red and white shirt clings to his thin frame along with a torn pair of pants. Vomit on his lips and on the nearby dock shows that someone had revived him before they'd arrived, likely the Captain or a member of his crew.

   Before he can sink into his horror further Isengrim smacks him on the back of the head and quickly shoves him closer to the hurt blond. 

"Quit gawking and help me check him over! We don't know how long he's been under-"

   Now that he can think a little more clearly he nods with a determined scowl, quickly moving forward to help the Doctor in any way he can. Gently he lifts the boy's head into his arms, propping him up so Isengrim can check for more injuries. The quiet yet steady heart beat humming under the drowned child's skin brings little comfort. Hamfast knows that at any moment they could lose this poor soul from some inner hurt that they can't see.

  As Isengrim continues to prepare the boy to be moved, Hamfast reaches up and slowly starts to stroke the blond's head in an attempt to sooth him, each whimper of pain striking his heart. To his amazement, he's eventually met with hazy pain filled blue eyes staring up at him.

"..wh...w ho..-? ..w..here.. am..-"

  Gently shushing the hurting lad in his arms Hamfast cups his face and smiles at him, holding him close in case he tries to move and ends up hurting himself more.

"Easy lad, easy- You're going to be alright. Doc'll fix ya right up y'hear? You're safe."

  The blond gives him a calculating look hazed over with pain. Eventually after a long moment he seems to come to some sort of conclusion and melts back into Hamfast's steady hold, slipping back into unconsciousness with a small huff.

  Chuckling softly Hamfast gently pats the lads head and looks up at Isengrim, smiling at the Doctor's bewildered face.

"Well Doc, I think we've got a little fighter on our hands. Let's get him moved yeah?"

  His words are met with cheers from the surrounding crowd, everyone accepting the smallest amount of good news gladly. As the Doctor and his friend start to move the blond, others rally together to either help move him or return to town. Some stress bake, others make blankets for the new resident of the Gaffer's home. 

  They'd help the lad gifted to them by the sea. And if anyone comes around asking about a blond clothed in red, not a word about him will be given by any honest folk. 

Chapter Text

"Tommy?"

  Blinking slowly as he's roused awake, Tommy looks up with a small grimace and a grumpy huff. Through the haze of sleep he sees a familiar green wearing moobloom hybrid staring down at him. Groaning in protest he raises one of his arms and covers his eyes with it, failing to hide a small smile.

"Wha-? Tubbo I was sleeping- " 

  His grumpy remark is answered with laughter and a smaller body landing on top of him, the brunette flopped in a dramatic heap. Sitting up with a fake yell of anger Tommy tackles him, playfully bringing him into a wrestling match. They mess around for a while, rolling around under their tree with one of their many music discs playing softly in the background.

  After a while they begin to tire out and choose to stop, Laying on the ground panting through their laughter. They slowly both calm down and stare up at the clouds floating overhead, pointing out dozens of different shapes and making up stories for each and every one.

  Eventually Tubbo tugs on Tommy's arm, pulling him up so they both can move to their bench. Tubbo makes soft yellow flowers bloom, and Tommy sprouts mushrooms with a blush and an embarrassed huff when Tubbo whines and teasingly pokes at him to shift form and grow them. Together they weave flower crowns, crowning each other with bright happy smiles and teasing jokes . They settle down again after a moment and sit in content silence. Tommy gets a thoughtful look on his face and furrows his brow before he speaks his mind.

"...Hey Tubbo..?"

"Yeah Tommy?"

"...Will we always be best friends?"

"Always."

……...

"...Hey Tommy?"

"Yeah big man?"

"..It's time for you to wake up."

Tommy turns to look at Tubbo and tell him off with some cheeky remark, only to freeze up in horror from the sight of him.

"..T..Tubbo..-?"

    When he wakes, the image of his friend's wounded and bleeding body is burned into his mind, the smell of burning flesh and flowers invading his senses. He tries to sit up but unknown hands hold him down as he thrashes, ignoring his cries of panic as he stares up into the sky unseeing, tears streaming down his face. The brunette Moobloom hybrid's name screams out from behind cracked lips, echoing from him against the walls of the room in an anguished wail. Someone cups his face and talks to him, accidentally making him aware of the burning pain erupting from the left side of his face. Finally fully realizing he isn't alone he tries to fight harder, only seeing flashes of red and grey as he thrashes in the grip of his supposed captors.

" Bastards ..- I..-I'll.- fokn kill..you-..! T..Tubbo..- Toby-! "

  Someone grabs his jaw as gently as they can and force his mouth open, before he can fight against them he finds an unknown liquid tasting suspiciously like a potion flowing down his throat. He coughs and retches as they let him go, eventually choosing to curl up on his side with soft quiet whimpers of pain and vulnerable fear escaping him. He dozes off for a little while, and when he wakes again he remembers the hands that held him down.

  He'd been caught, Dream had found him and now he's never going to let him leave again and he's pissed he's going to make the end so fucking slow oh sweet Notch please someone get him out of here - Wilby, Toby, p..pl..ease-

  "Kid? Lad, can ye hear me?"

  A soft voice startles him out of his panicked inner monologue and against all his fear's wishes he turns his head to look. Expecting to see a familiar green clad Admin, instead he finds a..mooshroom hybrid? Sure enough, if he squints hard enough he can see a few red mushroom's tucked in the red haired man's hair near his large white horns. Soft green eyes look at him with curiosity and worry from behind a well used pair of round glasses.

   Feeling a little more safe but not by much Tommy turns his entire body to face the man, curling up so his legs are tucked closer to his chest.

  "..W..Who..Who are you? Where am I..-"

   The man smiles while one of his ears flicks, making an ear cuff with 2 chains and 4 small pendants that Tommy can't make out bounce around like a delicate wind chime. 

  "My name is Hamfast ap Arwyn. You're in the Doctor's medhall, in a town named Amaethon. How are you feeling, Enaid bach ?"

  .. .How was he?

  Slowly losing focus, Tommy takes a moment to mentally assess the information he'd been given. 

  He hasn't been captured. The red haired man- Hamfast. He seems..nice. What was it he'd called him? En.. Enaid bach ? Have to ask what that means. He's apparently in a town named Amaethon. The left side of his face feels weird, kinda tingly and..he can't see out of his eye. He can't see - 

   Noticing the panic growing in Tommy's eyes and the blond's hand moving to his face, Hamfast reaches out and gently stops him from touching his left eye.

  "Easy now ladd, easy, everything's alright- You took a nasty hit. Doc had to cover your eye in order to help it heal properly 'an you'll be able ta see once Doc lets ya take it off, alright?" With a small pat he lets go of Tommy's hands before standing up, giving the startled blond a reassuring smile. 

  "I'll be back in a moment, kid. Just sit tight..- Need ta let Doc know you're awake again. Should only take a moment-" Giving Tommy a wink and a cheeky smile he turns and leaves the room, a red and white spotted cow tail swinging cheerfully behind him.

   Now that he's alone, Tommy shakily pushes himself into an upright position and looks around the room he's in. Surprisingly enough it's not much of a room but more of a hall- Rows of beds line the room on each side, each one separated from the others with soft looking curtains to create the illusion of rooms. The bed he is on is close to a massive set of carved oak doors, designs of plants and animals decorating it's surface with intricate carvings. On the opposite end of the hall are shelves full of different bottles and vials, along with some bundles of containers that might contain balmes of some kind.

  Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps Tommy looks back towards the ornate doors, involuntarily tensing when he sees that Hamfast brought someone with him upon his return. Hamfast stops the stranger and turns to Tommy, giving him a mischievous smile before suddenly leaning forward in a fancy bow, gesturing to his exasperated looking friend.

 " Enaid bach ? Meet Isengrim Gwaednerth né Gwydion, Illustrious and magnificent Doctor of Amaethon and husband of our dear Ol'Gaffer, Fenris ap Gwaednerth. Son and heir of Gwydion ap Awsten, a Doctor like all his glorious ancestors before hi-'' He suddenly cuts himself off with a surprised grunt of pain, the embarrassed Doctor's fist buried in his gut. He laughs through the pain at the Doctor's blushing face.

  With a huff and a roll of his eyes aimed at the wheezing redhead next to him, Isengrim approaches Tommy, giving him an exasperated yet clearly amused smile.

  "Ignore that old fool, he enjoys messing around with new folks too much. You can just call me Doc or Isengrim like everyone else, alright?"

  Seeing Tommy's responding nod he smiles again, clapping his hands together.

  "Good. Now then, may I approach you to change out your bandages?" The blond nods again then blushes a little when he realizes he hasn't spoken once since the doctor walked in, hastily replying verbally so as to not seem rude.

"Ah..y..yes..- should be fine.. nice to meet you..-"

  The grey haired doctor chuckles, giving him a warm smile as he turns to grab supplies from a nearby table. "A pleasure to meet you as well ladd, though I wish it was under better circumstances. Now hold still, this might sting a little..-" With that he gently pulls off one of the bandages on the blond's eye.

  While the doctor works Tommy takes the chance to get a closer look at him. Grey messy curls puff out in every direction, making way for a long set of floppy bunny ears of the same color. He's dressed in a soft blue sweater, the sleeves rolled up so he can work better. Golden-green eyes focus intently on his work. 

  Before he can continue, he feels a sharp jolt of pain coming from his scalp and hisses between clenched teeth in pain, his hands clinging tightly to the blanket covering his legs. He feels a gentle comforting pat on his arm and looks to his side to find that at some point Hamfast had returned to his chair. He gives the man a shaky smile and feels the warm feeling of safety well up in his chest when the mooshroom hybrid smiles back. 

  As Isengrim finishes working and starts to clean up, a tall wolf hybrid walks into the medhall in a navy blue waistcoat, white dress shirt, and dark navy blue pants. He approaches Isengrim and kisses his forehead, draping an arm over the doctor's shoulders as he gives Tommy a soft smile. He reaches out a clawed hand towards the bedridden teen, sharp yellow eyes shining with happiness and mirth from the sight of Tommy looking visibly better.

  "How do ya fair ladd? Fenris ap Gwaednerth, at your service. Call me Fenris."

Tommy takes the offered hand with a small nervous smile and shakes it with a firm grip, slightly overwhelmed with all the new faces. "Better sir, thank you.-"

  Fenris waves him off with a scoff and sighs in defeat, lost in unknown thoughts. "None of that 'sir' shite ladd, makes me sound old. Now then..-" Pulling out a chair for his husband first, he sits in a third chair and folds his hands, giving Tommy a serious look.

  "Care ta tell us how you ended up half drowned in the ocean?"

  Tommy looks down at his hands, searching his scratched up and bandaged palms for some sort of answer. A tense yet comfortable silence fills the room as he tries to formulate a response, and as he continues to struggle he receives not just one but 3 comforting pats to the arm or hair from Hamfast, Isengrim, and even Fenris.

   "...There...there was a storm."

   "A storm ladd?"

   Noting Hamfast's response, Tommy nods in agreement and slowly continues, his brow furrowed in frustration and pain as the forcing of memories brings up a headache.

  "I made a boat. Called it the Freedom ..- I was fishing when the storm hit, and didn't have time to change course. S..Something hit me in the head and knocked me off and I sank...I..I thought..- I thought that was it,yknow? The end. How.." He lifts his head and looks into their eyes one by one, fear and uncertainty clear on his face. "How did I get here?"

   Hamfast sighs softly and runs a hand through his hair, grimacing as he remembers the sight of the hurt blond laying limpy on the dock. 

   "...Captain Hadden found ya..- Drug you up from the depths in one of his fishing nets. The crew thought you were dead till he checked for a pulse, when he found one he sent one of the ladds up to town, hollerin for help- Aberforth was sent to get us so we could bring you here, to the medhall."

   He lifts his head and gives Tommy a small sad smile, his hands clasped in his lap. "Now ladd, I don't know what you're runnin from, and I don't need to know unless you're comfortable tellin me. All you need to know is the town has already accepted ya, and if you want you can have a new start here, no questions asked. I bet you you'll have dozens of offers to stay over from half the town by noon." His words are met with agreement from Fenris and Isengrim, who are both looking at Tommy with bright hopeful eyes.

  Stunned to silence, all Tommy can do is stare at them. Could he? Could he actually stay here..

   With a watery smile he laughs, smiling brightly at his first friends in this new world. He'd already come to the conclusion that if any of them were planning on hurting him or giving him to Dream, they would have by now, so it wasn't a hard leap to assume that he could trust them. But to hear them actually say that they want him, despite only knowing him for a few hours is something different.

  Wiping his eyes with his palms he nods, blushing slightly in embarrassment from a sudden thought. "..This is gonna sound dumb but..Can I.. pick a new name? Yknow, for my 'new start'?" 

   Isengrim accidently startles the happy blond as he jumps up in excitement, his eyes shining. He talks too quickly to understand, saying something vaguely sounding like 'baby book' and 'wait right here!' before running out of the room. Tommy and Hamfast look at each other for a moment in surprised silence before busting out into laughter, tears of mirth shining in their eyes. Fenris rolls his eyes and chuckles over the sound of his husband running around searching for something in a different room of the house.

   Eventually the ecstatic doctor returns, a medium sized book with a red cover in his hands. Running over he nearly knocks over his chair when he sits down, handing the book to Tommy with a bright smile.

"Go on then! Have a look! Oh Fen, I haven't been this excited since Bella had the twins last spring-" Said 'Fen' wraps his arm around Isengrim's shoulders, kissing his husband's forehead with a chuckle.

"I know, fy cariad aur , but you must calm yourself- Don't overwhelm him."

  Blushing to the roots of his hair from the show of affection and the gentle reminder, Isengrim gives an amused looking Tommy a small smile, mumbling a soft apology.

  Tommy opens the book and starts to browse through it, occasionally stopping to ask the others how to say a certain name, or what one of the names without a definition in the book means. Page after page he turns, growing more frustrated as he fails to find one that feels right.

  And then, he finds it.

  He closes the book and grabs everyone's attention. With a bright cheerful smile that reaches his eyes, he holds out a bandage covered hand.

   "Morien, no surname for now. Pleased to meet you..!"

Chapter Text

   Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and soon enough Tommy found himself wandering Amaethon as if he'd lived there his whole life. (Morien. He has to keep reminding himself. My name is Morien now. )

   After nearly 2 weeks of bed rest he was half ready to crawl out of one of the windows. Fenris, noticing how antsy he was, proposed a solution- He could go on short walks through town, but only if Isengrim gave the go ahead, and only if someone goes with him to make sure he stays safe and doesn't become lost. It wasn't easy to convince Isengrim to let him leave his bed at first, in fact it wasn't till Hamfast had offered to go with him whenever he wished to go that the fussy doctor finally relented. 

   The first walk had been...interesting. Overwhelming. No matter where they went, dozens of people stopped to either fuss over him or shower him with gifts.

  'How do ye fair ladd?'  

'How ye healin up ladd?'

'Plannin on staying? We've got room, or we could get ye a house built up! Shouldn't be hard to convince some of the ladds to help out.'

'You're thinner than a rake ladd, here, take this basket- Me mam made 'em fresh this mornin, best cookies this side of Cymru!'

    Hamfast had been a steady rock for him to depend on. Politely rejecting gifts for him if he had no room in his inventory, shielding him if the crowds grew too big and stifling, showing him all the quiet places in town or hidden places no one knows much about.

   Now almost a month later, things are still hectic, but infinitely more bearable. 

     Villagers wave at them as he and the taller Mooshroom pass by, parents chasing after their rambunctious children with smiles on their faces. As he once again hears his name called by some unknown face in the crowd, Morien can't help but smile happily as he waves in the direction of the voice and hollers out a greeting of his own. Hamfast chuckles and pats him on the back, smiling down at him in amusement. 

  Rolling his eyes doesn't help, instead making the older man laugh harder. Morien lightly shoves him with a smirk before running to a building not far ahead from them. He stops short of the door and glances up at the worn out hardwood hanging sign, elegant script written with paint adorning it's face.

                            Rae & Fi's

                       Teas & Sweets

                         circa 7 B.N.

   One of his favorite places that Hamfast has brought him to so far.

   Said mooshroom hybrid lightly nudges him with his shoulder, knocking him from his thoughts. They smile at each other before walking into the shop. Instantly they are hit with the scent of dozens of different tea blends and baked goods, making Morien's mouth involuntarily water. As they seat themselves at a nice table near the front counter, the pleasant sound of windchimes and bells echo from a figure walking out from the back room, instantly bringing a smile to Morien's face.

  " Bore da, Rae!"

   Dressed in a white dress shirt, brown pants, and a stained apron stands a tall imposing yet friendly being. Large antlers full of flowers, small lanterns on chains, windchimes, ribbons, and tiny bells rise up from a well kept nest of brown curls; white spots scattered throughout like tiny stars. Shockingly bright purple eyes shine with mirth and content, a small smattering of freckles nestled underneath them on their cheeks. Large wings with a range of vibrant gold and red feathers rivaling a pheasant rest comfortably behind them. One of their ears flick about, revealing a small patch of feathers the same colors of their wings and a delicate ornate looking ear cuff.

   They rub their hands with a towel while smiling brightly at their guests, small fangs poking out for the world to see.

  " Bore da Morien, Hamfast! I see those Cymraeg lessons are paying off nicely aye?"

   With a smile and soft blush Morien scratches the back of his neck, glancing away with an embarrassed yet pleased hum.

"A..Aye-"

  Chuckling softly Rae leans against the counter, their wings puffing up a little behind them. Hearing the commotion out front, a smaller figure walks out of the back room with a tray full of muffins in their hands. Small royal blue shulker armour plates float around them, some of the plates carrying 2 more trays of sweets behind them. 

  "Rae, is that our dear Morien I hear?"

  The moment they see Morien they start to smile, though it quickly disappears into a confused frown when they notice that something's off about him.

"Notch's beard ladd! Where've your blasted horns gone?"

   Said blond looks at them in complete puzzlement, taking a moment or two to understand what they mean. When he finally catches on he chuckles, ruffling his hair with a shrug.

  "Sorry Fi, I'm still getting used to being out.." With that a small puff of smoke surrounds him, when it dissipates everyone in the room smiles at the sight of him.

  He had gained a little more meat on his bones from all the village folk passing him food constantly, insisting he was far too thin for his age. His hair had grown to reach his shoulders and had started to turn a bit curly.  Springing up from said hair is a decent set of pearly white horns, not as large as Hamfast's own since he's still young yet, but decent. Small red mushrooms thrive around his horns and near his red and white cow ears. Other than that and a few new scars, including the one covering most of the left side of his face, there were not many changes. Today he's wearing a soft red tunic, brown pants, and some boots Isengrim had given him to replace his salt water soaked ones.

   Hamfast leans over to gently knock their foreheads together, chuckling when their horns clack against each other. Reaching up he ruffles Morien's hair and drapes his arm over his shoulders to drag him into a side hug.

  "Think nothing of it ladd. Change is hard to get used to, just try to remember that there's no need ta hide. All hybrids of all sorts are welcome here."

   Fis sets down a plate full of muffins on their table while Rae brings them tea, both voicing their agreement. While walking to some used tables to grab dishes and walking back to the counter, Rae brings up some exciting news.

  "Ham, have ye heard yet? Rose and Clara should be back from Alban soon, 'least that's what Mina came in sayin..- by the 'morrow at the latest."

  Nearly choking on the tea he's sipping, Hamfast smiles brightly at Rae before he turns to Morien, practically vibrating with excitement. "Oh ladd you'll love them! Rosey's gonna lose her damn head when she meets ya, I guarantee it..-"

   Laughing at the redheads excitement Morien pokes him in the side, raising a teasing brow with a smirk. "I'm sure I will, I'll likely like them better though if I had a better idea of who the hell you're talking about."

  Finally having his turn to be embarrassed Hamfast scratches his cheek with a sheepish smile. "Right, yes..- Ffion and Hafgan, but you can just call them by their English names..- Rose and Clara. Rose is my sister, and Clara is her wife- Claras the second doctor of Amaethon while Rose and I run a tavern downtown near the west entrance called Sucellos's Keg ."

    Sputtering at this new information Morien gives him a fake glare, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"You've owned a fokn tavern this entire time, and you never brought me over to see it-!?"

  With a snort of amusement Hamfast reaches up and pokes the irritated teen's  forehead while sipping his tea.

  "I was waitin till you were a bit more healed, you dumb arse. Shite can get rowdy in there with all them foreign travellers and fisherman hangin about."

  Thoroughly unimpressed with the sound logic the elder mooshroom has made, Morien grumbles a bit while biting into a blueberry muffin.

  They finish eating and chat with the two possible immortals 

( "Rae, Fi, why does the sign out front say 7 B.N. ?" 

"Don't worry your sweet little head over it Mori, nothing for you to worry about." "Agreed Fi. Here ladd, have another muffin-" )

before eventually heading out, stopping to greet shopkeepers and other folks wandering about. Soon enough Hamfast leads Morien back to Fenris and Isengrim's home, the sun setting in the horizon. Upon walking through the door Isengrim fusses over them, grumbling about any small scrape he finds. He leads them to the parlour, somehow managing to hide an excited and mischievous grin.

  While describing the layout of Sucellos's Keg to Morien in an attempt to sate his curiosity, Hamfast suddenly cuts himself off, his face overtaken with shock and glee as his eyes meet the cheerful gaze of a green pair of eyes that match his own. With a bright smile and a happy booming laugh he runs forward and hugs the unknown person, holding them close.

"Ffion-! Rydw i wedi colli chi, chwaer bach!"

   Hamfast pulls away from them to gently hold their shoulders, giving Morien a good chance to get a better look at them.

  Tall, almost taller than Hamfast, with broad shoulders stands a proud looking mooshroom hybrid; arguably Hamfast's female clone. Similar green eyes shine with hidden laughter, freckles create constellations on her face, and long red and white hair curls into ringlets that flow down her back. Large white horns curve up into sharp points, an ear cuff similar to Hamfast's is fastened to one of her ears. She's dressed in light battle armour and dark travel clothes with a cloak over her shoulders lined with fur. 

  Too absorbed in his thoughts, the young mooshroom doesn't notice someone approaching him until he feels a hand gently touch his shoulder. Flinching away he spins around to face them, immediately feeling a small ball of guilt and shame well up in his chest at the dark haired woman's startled and sad face. They observe each other for a moment, blocking out the sound of the siblings standing on the other side of the room chatting.

   The woman is shorter than him, maybe up to his shoulder height wise. Dark black hair, which oddly enough shimmers in an almost dark blue hue in the light reaches her shoulders in pleasant waves. Behind her rests a pair of wings matching the color of her hair. She wears a forget-me-not blue tunic, a black corset over it, with matching black pants and boots. Her ears are pointed on the ends and decorated with silver ear cuffs, metal woven together to shape flowers and leaves. Her eyes subtly shift through different colors and hues, never staying one color or mix of colors for long; they seem to glow with concern and a heartwarming understanding.

  She reaches out a hand with a small smile, and her voice immediately reminds him of a soft breeze flowing through a windchime.

  "Fy enw i ydy Hafgan. Beth ydy'ch enw chi?"

  Taking her hand he stutters though his response, slightly flustered as his knowledge is accidentally put to the test. 

" M..Morien dw i..Neis i gwrdd â chi, Hafgan. "

  She smiles brightly as he speaks, her wings puffing up slightly behind her. 

"So you are this Morien we've been hearing so much about! Dedwydd hasn't shut up about you in his letters!"

  He tilts his head in confusion, his brow furrowed as he tries to remember anyone named Dedwydd. Noticing his confusion she chuckles and gestures to the redhead currently holding her wife in a headlock, said siblings' conversation evidently turning into roughhousing. 

"Hamfast, dear. His cymraeg name is Dedwydd . The amount of stories I could tell you about hi-"

"Ham! You didn't tell me the ladd was a wee fokn calf-!"

  Interrupting their conversation, Rose ambles up to them with Hamfast in tow. Next thing Morien knows he's being dragged into a hug, Rose's larger frame enveloping him. If it was even physically possible, she is apparently even more energetic than Isengrim, pulling away from the hug to coo over him.

"Look at ye! Ham, don't tell me ye had a little one while we was gone- ladd looks just like ye..-!"

  Hamfast slaps her on the back and gestures to her with a chuckle, giving Morien a content smile.

  "Ladd, as you've likely guessed already this is my sweet little sister I've been telling ya 'bout, Rose! Rosey, this is our dear ladd Morien."

  With a small scoff Rose shoves Hamfast, smirking while ruffling his hair. "Shut your gab, you're only older by 3 fokn minutes you daft fool!" Turning to Morien she smirks and winks, whispering to him while her brother busies himself trying to fix his hair. " Shh, watch this- Oi Ham! Fen and Grim are back!"

  As if an invasion bell had been wrung Hamfast snaps to attention, his hair still ruffled and messy as he tries to look around for the Doctor and Mayor. When he realizes they aren't in the room he pouts, blushing hard in embarrassment as everyone in the room laughs at him. Morien walks over and gives him a hug, immediately replacing the pout on the embarrassed redhead's face with a soft happy smile. Glancing over at the two women nearby, Morien smiles brightly as they accept his silent invitation and join the hug.

   Unbeknownst to the group-hugging friends, Fenris and Isengrim stand on a nearby staircase, watching the bonding moment happening in front of them with an air of happiness. Isengrim rests his head on Fenris's shoulder with a happy smile and a sigh of content, humming happily as his husband kisses the top of his head.

  "Fen, my love? I think this may be the start of something incredible."

  "As knowledgeable and immaculate as ever, fy calon ."

Chapter Text

Awst 18th, 2021

"Alright you lot, time to split up. Foods ready!"

   Reluctantly, Isengrim interrupts the hug fest to usher everyone into the dining room. Recruiting the help of Fenris and Hamfast, the fussy doctor brings in foods of all sorts- roasted potatoes, Cawl Cymreig , and mead to name some. 

  For hours they eat and exchange stories, creating memories that'll last them for years to come. Rose, much to Hamfast's dismay, tells stories of their childhood; Most of which embarrass her brother in some way. Clara talks about how she met the twins and fell for Rose, Isengrim tells a similar story about Fenris, and at some point Tommy shyly tells them some small stories from his past that aren't traumatizing. Near midnight Fenris notes the resounding yawns and the drooping eyes around the table and convinces everyone to pack up and prepare for bed. One by one everyone gathers into the kitchen and starts to help with dishes, a soap fight starting up once or twice. While drying a plate, Rose makes a suggestion; a soft thoughtful look on her face.

  "I don't know about all of you, but the journey home was rough and I feel up for a good cuddle. Cuddle pile in the living room anyone?"

  Everyone considers her suggestion for a moment only for Hamfast to break the silence, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Dibs on big spoon then, Rosey!" 

  With a scoff she sets the plate on a shelf, running off to seemingly steal his spot. Hollering protests Hamfast runs after her, their playful bickering echoing throughout the house as they dart around different rooms in the home gathering blankets and pillows. Fenris and Clara roll their eyes with twin suffering sighs while Morien and Isengrim laugh and joke about the mooshroom twins' childish behavior. 

  Eventually the group left in the kitchen finish cleaning up and split off to change into sleeping clothes. Morien changes into some dark blue pajamas Fenris had surprised him with on his first official night in Amaethon. He had been moved to one of their guest rooms because Hamfast lives in an apartment meant for only one person. (And as he's just found out, said mooshroom's apartment is on the top floor of Sucellos's Keg. Bastard.)

  Shuffling into the bathroom Morien locks the door behind him before moving to the sink. He brushes his teeth, and as he starts to finish cleaning himself up he stares into the mirror, lost in thought.

Cuddle pile…

Is he..allowed to join? Does he want to join? 

   He hasn't cuddled with anyone since the first war for L'manberg. He couldn't sleep alone, was too tense to try- And Wilbur, being as all knowing as ever, invited him to cuddle like they used to do when they were younger. When they were still a family. They never did again after that, and there was no point in asking for any form of comfort when they were in Pogtopia, not with how unstable Wil had become. And what dumb arse would think of asking a ghost for a hug...

  Before he can think on it more, Fenris gently knocks on the door to let him know everyone is heading to the living room. Morien quickly finishes up and unlocks the door, giving the wolf hybrid a small smile before making his way downstairs with the others. The sight that meets the group when they walk into the living room is a welcoming one.

   The couches had been moved to encircle the rug in the middle of the room. Thin sheets are draped in between them, forming a canopy for a large pillow fort. Under the sheet canopy is a large pile of pillows and blankets, plush and comfiness coming together to form a perfect cuddle nest. Rose and Hamfast are working together to stoke the flames in the fireplace, joking around and chatting about anything that comes to mind.

  Isengrim runs over and flops down in the pile with a laugh, sighing happily as he sinks into the comfortable bedding. Fenris flops down and joins him while Clara approaches the fireplace to convince the twins to stop playing with fire. Eventually everyone gathers up in the fort, all that is, except one. 

  Looking over to the lone figure standing near the doorway to the living room, Clara gives them a concerned look from her position cuddled between Rose and Hamfast. Her soft spoken questions bring everyone's attention to the person, accidentally making them feel even more uncomfortable.

"Morien? What's wrong, Enaid bach ?"

  Playing with the bottom hem of his tunic he looks away, a troubled look on his face. He answers hesitantly, his words quiet and unsure.

  "..Are you sure it's alright if I join you..-?" 

   The small group of friends exchange glances with each other, talking without the need for words to be spoken. Seamlessly they shuffle around, and before his very eyes they form a spot for him between Hamfast and Clara, each of them smiling at him with looks of anticipation and openness. Hamfast opens his arms and Clara mirrors him, both lifting the blankets. With a chuckle and a roll of her eyes Rose nods towards the open spot.

"Get your arse over here ladd, family cuddle pile means all the family gets to cuddle."

  Needing no further prodding Morien shuffles over, crawling into the fort till he's tucked into the center of the cuddle pile. Gently asking for permission they wait till he gives consent before cuddling closer. Hamfast holds him close and lets him use his chest as a pillow. Clara hugs him from behind, her wings curled around him and Hamfast. Rose cuddles up close to Clara with her arm draped over her so she can gently pat Morien's head. Isengrim curls up close to Fenris, wedging himself between Hamfast's back and his husband.

 Burying his face in the older mooshroom's chest as he dozes off Morien smiles with a little bit of tears in his eyes, the warmth of familial love swelling in his heart for the first time in years. 

  Just this once, he promises himself, he'll let himself feel like he has a family again.

   Unknown to him, the others whisper to each other as he sleeps, cooing over him as he drools a little on Hamfast's shirt. They discuss plans for future surprises, and all of them come to the same conclusion in their minds.

   Despite only knowing him for a few short months- Some in person, and others through stories sent in letters, This boy has become quite dear to them.

Almost like..

A son .

Awst 19th, 2020

  Groaning softly in protest Morien nuzzles his pillow, gently swatting at what he thinks is his alarm waking him up. Much to his surprise his pillow moves and he hears someone chuckling at him. Lifting his head, his hair poofed out and curly from sleep, he squints as he looks at whoever is chuckling at him and immediately tenses in surprise; blushing to the roots of his hair in embarrassment when he sees Hamfast. Stuttering an apology he sits up and becomes even more embarrassed when he realizes he drooled on his father figure's shirt ( And he will never admit to calling the man his father, now is not the time for a familial bond crisis ); only for the redhead to pat his hair with a cheeky smirk.

"No need to apologize ladd, now get your arse up- I haven't had Rosey's cooking in months and her pancakes are to fokn die for-!"

   Playfully shoving the man down he hops to his feet and runs off down the hall towards the dining room, laughing as he hears the redhead sputtering in surprise and hollering his name as he chases after him. Crying out in surprise as Hamfast catches up faster than he thought he would, Morien flails around with screeching laughter as he's suddenly picked up. Wheezing as Hamfast tickles him and moves him into a headlock he calls out for the others, pouting when he notices them laughing and doing nothing to help him. Through his laughs and wheezes he stutters an apology while lightly slapping at the arm holding his head.

  "I give, I'm sorry-! L..Let me go you..- fokn arse-!"

   With a laugh Hamfast makes a show of considering letting him go, humming and hawing dramatically. Before anything else can happen Rose walks into the room with a large plate of pancakes in one hand, scoffing as she lightly swats her brother on the back of the head with a spatula.

  "Alright ya twit, knock it off-! Moriens a growing ladd n we need ta get him fed, off with ye now!"

  Jokingly cursing her out he grumbles and rubs the back of his head as if she gave him a grave wound, releasing Morien with a smile. Said blond glares at him and lightly punches him in the arm, sitting down at the table next to Fenris with a huff. As he walks past to sit at the table Hamfast ruffles Morien's hair, the blond tries to keep his fake glare up but fails and ends up smiling.

  Soon enough they tuck in, chattering about their plans for the day. At one point the twins start a small food fight with each other but Clara shuts it down quickly when she notices Fenris shielding Morien's still-healing eye. Things calm after that and after helping to clean off the table and changing into a blue tunic and brown pants, Morien leaves the house around noon with Hamfast in tow. As they walk down one of the many paths, Morien turns to the taller man next to him with a hesitant look in his eyes.

"Hey Ham? I know you've got things to do today...is it..is it okay if I hang out with Captain Hadden while you're off doing stuff?"

  Raising a curious brow, he studies the blond's face for a moment before nodding, smiling softly while clapping a hand on Morien's shoulder.

"Sure ye can ladd. Will have ta ask 'im first though 'course, yhear?"

   Smiling brightly he nods in confirmation, the mooshroom's only warning being an all too innocent smile before the mischievous blond steals his glasses and runs off with a cackle. Racing ahead of the now blind man hollering curses but with obvious mirth in his voice, Morien dodges people in the crowds, smiling even brighter as folks laugh at the spectacle they're making and holler encouragement to him. As he sprints his tail whips behind him, a blazing flag of red and white giving away his position in the crowds at every turn. Soon enough though he's caught, but not before trying the glasses on and performing a very poor but amusing impersonation of the red haired man half heartedly glaring at him.

   Once his glasses are returned he ruffles Morien's hair with a roll of his eyes, leading the way as he walks to the western path into town. They chat about anything that comes to mind as they make their way to the pier, joking around while exchanging stories. As they approach the dock they see Captain Hadden sitting on a barrel, tools strewn around him and a corner of a large net in his hands as he seems to be repairing it. 

  Walking closer to the lone figure on the dock Morien thinks back to his first official time meeting the old Captain.

( He was intimidated by the man at first. 

Tall, serious looking, with dark salt and pepper hair, a medium sized beard on his face, and pink eyes similar to apple blossoms. He was wearing a dark turtleneck and a trench coat with long matching pants and steel toed boots. Purple and light blue fins peeked out from under his hair and his captain's cap, and a tail of the same colors casually rested behind him, revealing him as an axolotl hybrid.

   He had taken one look at Morien's face and just like that, it was as if the sun had burst through dark stormy clouds. A bright smile lit up the man's face revealing laugh lines near his eyes.

  "Blessed be Llŷr's healing hands ladd, I'm glad you're doin' well! Nearly scared me out me damn boots 'en we drug ye up. Try not to take a dip like that again aye?" )

  Said axolotl hybrid notices their approach and waves them over, a small smile on his face. 

" Prynhawn da fy ffrindiau! What brings ye 'round?"

  Hamfast approaches him and clasps forearms with him in greeting, smiling brightly at the old captain.

" Prynhawn da, Hen ddwylo! Morien wished ta sit with ye while I go off takin care of shite- damn soldiers from someplace near iwerddon dropped by, nearly emptied all the stores in me larder the damnable fools."

   As he speaks Morien steps forward while fidgeting with the bottom hem of his tunic, his tail wrapping around one of his legs showing his nervousness. Steeling his nerves he forces himself to stop fidgeting and looks at the old sea captain with a determined glint in his eyes.

"I can help you with things sir-! I'm a swift learner, I wouldn't mind workin with yeh-!"

  Chuckling softly at the blond's quick words he nods and pulls a barrel over, patting the top of it while lifting some of the net.

"Fine wit' me ladd. I'll make sure your son stays together in one piece Ham, go get your work done and deal with those feckin' half wits."

  Both mooshroom hybrids blush from the "son" comment but neither voice their thoughts. Morien moves to sit on the offered barrel while Hamfast walks back up the path, waving at them as he leaves. Slowly with a gentle hand and an infinite amount of patience Captain Hadden teaches Morien how to patch up and reweave the nets, eventually standing up to work on other things when he sees to it that the blond is suitably skilled to do the job well enough. For hours they work in silence, the young mooshroom being thankful for the peace. Without even realizing it he finishes fixing the nets by himself, so as a new task he starts to slowly pack up all the tools. As he's lifting the last box of tools he turns to the captain, his eyes clouded with thought as he hesitates.

  Noticing his hesitance the axolotl gestures for him to follow, leading him to a small cabin nestled in the rocks next to the main path to town. Walking in he points to one of two armchairs seated in front of a fireplace, signaling for the blond to sit down as he walks to the kitchen. Morien sits down in one of the chairs and a few moments later the captain returns with a tray, an old looking tea set and some snacks ready. He sets the tray down onto a side table and pours them both a cuppa, sipping from his cup and patiently waiting for the mooshroom to speak once he's ready.

  Sipping the tea he's been given Morien takes a few moments to gather his thoughts, his brow furrowed in concentration and slight frustration; unintentionally gradually becoming worked up and ending up clutching his tea cup tightly. Slowly he starts to speak and before he knows it everything spills from him like a fresh mountain spring.

"..I..I'm sorry to burden you with this, captain, but I don't..I don't know who else to turn to with my thoughts. I.. I still don't have a surname. And I sort of realized last night that I might have more than one person who's name I'd like to share.. two of them I only met yesterday and yet I feel like I've known them all my life. Is it even possible to have more than two parents? Do they..do they want me to be their son? They don't even know who I am, what I've done..I'm..scared and I'm not entirely sure what to do, I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.." Looking up he stares at the Captain as he waits for a response, his eyes dark with deep seated fear and a hidden spark of hope. "What do I do sir?"

   The old Captain sips from his cup, staring into the nearby fireplace as he thinks to himself. Without looking up he finally responds with a soft and gentle voice.

  "Ladd..I'm gonna be blunt with ye, there's truly no simple way ta go 'bout this. The ways of the heart are a never ending mystery. But I will tell ye this." He turns to look at the blond for a moment before looking towards a photo on a nearby mantel with a wistful and fond smile on his face. Morien looks at the photo as well, awe overtaking his face as he takes in the old Captain's words. The photo holds the image of a clearly younger Captain Hadden, his arms around the shoulders of two unknown figures- a female cattle hybrid, and a kind looking gentleman who must have been an axolotl as well going by the pink fins. A crowd of people in ship worker's uniforms are gathered around them, and an older looking woman stands behind Hadden, smirking while pressing a Captain's cap to the top of his head. 

  "Family, true everlasting family, doesn't always have to be born through blood. Sometimes your friends, and the folks you meet on life's everlasting journey, become the greatest family you'll ever come to know. And that's okay." 

  Turning to look at the awestruck blond next to him Hadden smiles, tears glittering in his eyes from the well of emotions building from memories old and new.

 "This life is yours to live, and if you find yourself with more friends, mothers, fathers, parents than ye ever thought ye'd 'ave, so be it. They love ye laddie, plain and simple. You're their Enaid bach , their son, their Morien . Who you were and what ye did before coming here doesn't matter to them. You do. Understand?"

  Smiling shakily as he too tries not to cry, Morien nods, wiping his eyes with a watery chuckle. "A..Aye..I understand."

  Smiling gently the axolotl opens his arms in a silent invitation, tears finally falling down his cheeks, his eyes shining with understanding and happiness. Taking the offer up Morien lurches forward, clinging to him tightly as he hugs him.

  Neither of them speak. They do not mention the tears, for there's no need to. They both understand well enough.

  He too has felt this pain and this overwhelming exhilaration, Morien muses to himself. 

  I'm not the only one who's had to run to save myself .

I..

I don't have to be alone anymore.

Chapter Text

  After obtaining advice from Captain Hadden a good portion of his fears were abated, giving the young mooshroom hybrid room to breathe and finally start living his life anew.

  And live he most certainly does. You see, Amaethon in some cases could be considered a paradise of its own making. True poverty as we know it never truly exists there- the sense of community being so strong that if someone is hitting a rough patch, next morning they'll wake to find on their front porch baskets of food for their children to eat, job offers to help them earn some coin, and notes of friendship offering to take in the children whenever they need some rest or folks offering for them to stop in for tea if they ever need an ear to listen.

   Education is not exclusive- if one wishes to learn something, they're allowed to learn, usually through hands-on experience. And if they're not old enough to learn a profession hands-on, like blacksmithing, they're sat down a safe distance away so they can learn through watching. No question goes unanswered, and if one is feeling adventurous they can even take on multiple apprenticeships if more than one profession calls to them. And Morien has turned out to be one of said adventurous folks.

  Blacksmithing, sailing, archery, tactician training, General education and languages, Medicine, farming, Herbery, Wood carving, Bar keeping- you name it, Morien either has or is currently learning the subject, taking in any knowledge he can get his hands on like a sponge absorbing water.

   He works with Rose and the town's retired battlemasters and learns how to fight with various weapons, forging a weapon of each type he learns for his blacksmith training.

  On short sailing trips he learns how to maintain a ship and work with others, each member of Captain Hadden's crew teaching him parts of their various jobs on board, including the Captain himself.

   When fall harvest comes around he works with Finnegan and the other farmers to till up the fields for next season and gather up the crops, hauling a good portion of theto the town food stores for the upcoming winter. At one point Bernadette, the local seamstress, notices his hidden gentle nature and starts to make a habit of dragging him away from the fields to have him help babysit some of the younger children of the village. 

    With winter comes cozy days indoors learning languages from Fenris, and medic training from Isengrim. Clara teaches him how to prepare certain plants in the greenhouse, be they for tea to help a cold or turned into a paste to help heal wounds. Rose teaches him how to cook, secretly teaching him recipes only meant to be passed down in her family from mother to child, without informing him of the significance of the gesture of course. And Hamfast shows him how to carve blocks of wood into toys and tools, giving him a knife his father Arwyn had gifted him back when he was first learning. 

  All this work leaves behind an obvious change. Thriving in the love and acceptance the whole of Amaethon has given him has helped his growth immensely. He'd grown a little taller, his hair has grown longer and become more curly and soft, regular meals helping it grow out of it's old straw-like texture. The scar on his face has healed perfectly and has changed to a mix of soft pink and white. His horns have grown a little larger, now clearly rising out of his hair instead of being hidden by it. Working the bellows in the blacksmiths forge, working lines on Captain Hadden's ship, and hauling crops with Farmer Finnegan has given him decent muscle; The battlemasters have started to have a difficult time fighting him now that his natural strength has returned.

  Soon enough Christmas approaches, bringing with it new problems for Morien. Nervousness clouds his mind and even invades his dreams as he worries over how the others will react to his gifts and his surprise he has planned.

Rhagfyr 25th, 2021 - Christmas Morning

   Groaning in protest as he's woken by a knocking on his door Morien rolls onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow with a grumpy huff. Dozing back off he doesn't hear his bedroom door opening. Next thing he knows his blankets are ripped off his body, and when he opens his eyes to glare at whoever dares wake him up he sees Isengrim standing over him, smiling as brightly as ever.

"Up n at 'em laddie! Get up, it's Nadolig - ! "

   With a grumble and a dramatic whine he puts his pillow over his head, trying desperately to hide a small nervous smile as he decides to start up the first part of his plan.

  "Aaaaauuuugh..- but Dad , I'm fokn tired..- Can't ye convince Mum to let me eat breakfast in bed-? Tad said that you, Hen ddyn , and Mam used to all the time-!"

  Completely stunned into silence, Isengrim's heart swells with love, each parental endearment flustering him more and more until he's almost catotonic. An absolutely smitten smile overtakes his face and tears fill his eyes, he becomes so lost in thought with the fact that his dear mab bach not only called him Dad but called the others his parents as well that he agrees to Morien's request without question. 

  "I..I..of course..of course you can-! One moment I need to..I'll be right back bwni bach ..-" 

  Overcome with excitement he practically runs out of the room, leaving behind a nervous yet amused blond. Said blond smiles brightly at his new nickname and gets out of bed to follow him, walking into the dining room to find the rabbit hybrid excitedly talking to Clara. Sitting down at the table Morien gives them a shy smile when they turn to look at him, flushing up a bit when they look at him as if he's hung the moon. Walking around the table to approach him, Clara gently cups his head and plants a kiss in his hair. As she pulls away she murmurs a greeting to him, looking down at him with a loving smile while cupping his face in her hands.

" Nadolig Llawen, fy mab. Hungry?"

  Eyes shimmering with tears of happiness as he's given even more acceptance he nods, a wet chuckle escaping him as he reaches up to place a hand over hers.

"Absolutely starved, Mam . What's Mum cooking up?"

  Isengrim had told her what Morien had called them, but to actually hear him saying the words she's hoped for for months now was something entirely different. Chuckling softly, she plants another kiss on his forehead, gently pats his cheek, and tells him to sit tight as she walks to the kitchen to grab some food for him. Silently she decides to gush over this massive turn of events with her wife, who still doesn't know that their gift for Morien might be more well received than they ever dreamed.

   While Clara and Morien had been having their bonding moment, Isengrim had apparently snuck off to find Hamfast and Fenris, because the next thing the blond knows he's being hoisted out of his chair and pulled into a body crushing hug. When the hug eventually ends he looks up to find Hamfast smiling brightly at him, Fenris standing next to him with an equally happy look on his face, his tail wagging rapidly behind him.

   Before they can speak Rose and Clara walk in with plates of food, a small trace of happy tears on their faces as they smile at their family. Giving Morien a beaming smile, Rose gives him a cheerful Nadolig Llawen before turning to Hamfast and Fenris with a fake glare.

  "Oi! Leave him be, our buwch babi needs to eat-!"

   Laughing at the offended looks on his fathers' faces Morien sits down at the table with his tail swinging happily behind him, his eyes bright with obvious happiness. Taking joy in his happiness everyone decides to sit as well, and soon enough one of the best meals they've ever shared together begins. 

  Half way through the meal Rose decides they've waited long enough and rises from the table and leaves for the living room, hollering for everyone to hurry up so presents can be opened. Gathering them up on the couches Morien convinces everyone to let him give his gifts first. Running around grabbing colorful bundles from under the tree he passes them around, eventually moving to stand in front of the ring of couches once he's done giving them out. Fidgeting with his tunic as they open their gifts he smiles softly at their awed faces, feeling pride swell up in his chest as they hold his gifts as if they could disappear at any moment.

  He had crafted every single gift by hand. Working with different members of the guilds of Amaethon he gathered every material himself, every single part of his gifts has a part of his heart in them.

   For Rose he made a spear- like many of the warriors of Gogledd Cymru , she was a master spearman, though she wasn't called a battlemaster for nothing. Battlemasters are skilled in most if not all weapons through harsh training and discipline. The spear he made for her was difficult to craft, especially when you consider the materials he used. Normal iron spear head, but tipped with diamond and netherite, runes carved into the spearhead and shaft. Tucked next to the spear in a separate package is an ornate ear cuff shaped like a raven holding a rose in its beak.

   Clara's gift is a twin set of small netherite battle axes, decorated near the blades and down the handles with ravens, roses, and runes of protection and reinforcement. Wrapped underneath the axes is a large leather satchel with special compartments to safely hold potions and medical supplies.

   Isengrim receives a satchel similar to Clara's, along with a bow made of hardwood. Its string is already set, and down the sides of the bow are carvings of rabbits and wolves.

   Fenris receives a longsword- Diamond, with accents of netherite and runes to help reinforce it and make it stronger. He also receives a calligraphy set that matches the desk in his office- soft summer tones, the feathers of the quills looking suspiciously like they may be from a certain baker. 

   And then of course, Hamfast's gift. Clutched in his trembling hands, rests a shield. Large, sturdy looking, Runes subtly carved around the rim; Seemingly normal. Except for one difference- Inside the shield, right at eye level if one were to strap it to their arm and hold it up, is a carving. A line of images- a wolf, a rabbit, and 3 mooshrooms resting under a tree together. Underneath them, carved in Morien's messy scrawl is a message.

  Teulu trwy gariad nid gwaed

    Coughing awkwardly under his breath to interrupt their thoughts Morien catches their attention. Smiling softly he hugs himself, nervousness clear on his face as he starts to speak.

  "You likely guessed earlier, from me yknow..calling you what I did that I..I care for you, all of you, a lot. Way more than I thought I could for anyone. And judging by how you all reacted to my presents and my words, it's safe to guess you all feel the same..Let's face it, we've been a family for fokn ages already. Having 5 parents will be a bit odd at first but.. Can we..make it official? Can I be your son-?"

  For a moment there's a stunned beat of silence. The next there's a flurry of movement until suddenly Morien finds himself buried in 5 different sets of arms in a massive tear filled group hug. Laughing shakily with tears in his eyes he hugs them back, melting into the group hug as they take turns kissing his forehead or ruffling his hair. Soon enough everyone pulls away from each other and they all move to the couch, Morien seated in between Hamfast and Rose with the others crowd around them. Fenris leaves the room for a brief moment and returns with some papers and a container of ink. Setting everything down on a coffee table he picks up one of the quills Morien made him with an obvious air of fatherly pride, dipping it in the ink before signing the bottom of the important looking document. Smiling brightly he holds it out for the others to sign the paper as well until only Morien is left. Clara, who was the last of the adults to sign, holds the quill out to Morien with a gentle smile. Taking the quill from her he finally reads what the paper says and nearly bursts into tears again on the spot. He can't make most of the small words out through his building tears, but it's quite clear what the document is.

Adoption papers.

   Once he's fully realized what the papers are for he nearly knocks over the inkwell in his haste to sign them. He signs his old name easy enough, Thomas TommyInnit Craft. But when he moves to sign his new name he hesitates, looking up at his parents in obvious alarm.

"I..I don't know what to put my name as."

  Laying a calming hand on his shoulder, Fenris gives him a small shy smile as he makes a hesitant request on behalf of himself and the others.

  "If you'd like, we could pick one out for you pup. But only if you wish for us to."

  Giving them a watery smile he nods, chuckling softly while wiping happy tears away from his eyes. He watches in amusement as his parents immediately start a debate, discussing what name to go with with bright smiles on their faces. Soon enough they make their decision and write it down, showing the paper to their son with expectant looks on their faces. 

Morien Heulyn ap Dedwydd

  Staring at his new name tears start to slowly stream down his cheeks, the brightest smile they've ever seen brightening his face. With a wet chuckle he reaches out and pulls them into a hug, burying his face into them with a small sob as the intense flood of emotions overwhelm him a bit.

   For hours they hold each other, taking comfort in each other's presence. Opening gifts, drinking hot cocoa, and his parents testing out the gifts he made them makes for the best Nadolig Morien has ever had.

   That night they create another one of their occasional cuddle piles and quietly talk about their plans for the next day. Now that he is officially their son, several traditions need to be acknowledged, including a grand coming of age celebration. Listening to his parents excitedly discuss plans on how to announce his adoption Morien falls asleep, a content smile on his face. 

   But while Morien's family and the other people of Amaethon celebrate with cheer and fanfare, the same cannot be said for others in the world.

   On the other side of the world, where one would normally find happiness and celebration, there is only an air of tension and disdain. Mourning. 

    Sitting hunched in his chair, a lone president sits in his office, his hands clutching a melted compass to his chest as he cries. One of his only friends left sits outside of his office, clutching a dark covered book to their chest as they listen to the Moobloom hybrids shaky pleas for a certain blond mooshroom to be alive somewhere safe. Unable to listen to their friend in pain any longer, the ender walks into the office and holds their arms open in a silent invitation. The Moobloom stares at them for a moment in surprise before standing and running forward, sending them both to the floor. Together they mourn, holding each other up above the sea of emotions trying to drown them.

   A pink haired baker cries out from another nightmare, flashes of green and a white mask haunting her even in the waking world. As she hugs herself, gasping for every breath, a short haired man with blue and red glasses and an auburn fox hybrid run into the room with weapons raised; expecting a fight. When they see their friend huddled up crying in her bed they lower their weapons, immediately dropping them so they can console her. Silently a familiar ghost floats through a nearby wall and joins the group of friends, sitting down next to them to lean closer without making them cold with his cool aura.

  Sipping their cup of tea a King of a broken kingdom sits quietly deep in their thoughts, enjoying the casual company of a fluffy haired captain. Said captain lights candles around a group of picture frames, smiling sadly at the images of the people of Esempi from before everything collapsed. 

  The green clad son of the captain watches from a safe distance as his old friends celebrate without him, his white mask hiding the hurt on his face. A voice from his deepest thoughts reminds him that his current situation is his fault and his alone.

  Drinking cocoa as they bask in each other's company a demon, his diamond platonic husband,their fiery son, their sons blue wearing best friend, and his platonic fiances'- the ex-vice president and a bubbly time traveler, exchange gifts and joke around. Hidden underneath the group's cheer is a dull mourning as they all silently think of the ones they've lost.

    Elsewhere a father sits alone in the dining room of his home, a blue cloak pulled tightly around him. In his hands he holds a worn down picture frame, an image of his broken family smiling up at him, almost seeming to mock him with the happiness he wishes he still had. Hearing a noise he looks up, his resolve shattering when he sees the only member of his family he has left looking down at him with obvious worry. Tilting forward with a sob he hugs his eldest son tightly, his broken muffled wails echoing throughout their empty home as a deep sorrow takes over his very soul. Glancing down through his tears at the smiling faces of his dead sons a burning fire of hate is born deep within his heart. As he holds the only son he has left he murmurs a promise, his voice harder than the strongest netherite. His son nods against his shoulder and murmurs plans of his own, adding to the determined fire.

   They will pay for what they've done. 

  Every last one of them will burn.

Chapter Text

Rhagfyr 31st- New Years Eve

"Morien! Over 'ere me boy-!"

  Sprinting towards the voice calling to him the young mooshroom smiles as he runs past villagers carrying boxes, decorations, and in some cases, trees. Approaching a stand among many in the center of town full of finely crafted glass figures and other bobbles, Morien hands a box of decorations to a tall man with dark red hair and brown eyes. The man smiles and pats him on the shoulder while handing him a small bag of coins, raising a brow as the blond tries to reject the bag.

  "Oi, Are ye tryin' ta insult me laddie-?"

  Sputtering a bit in surprise Morien immediately tries to assure him that that isn't the case in the slightest, nearly dropping the bag on the ground in his haste.

  "'Course I'm not! Focks sake Abe- I don't need payment, is this not part of my apprenticeship?"

  With a chuckle Aberforth shakes his head and turns to his stand, gently picking up a box from behind the counter. Turning back to the embarrassed blond he hands the small box to him, smiling gently while crossing his arms over his chest.

  "Nonsense laddie. Consider everything, coin an' all a gift from me an' mine aye-?"

   Frowning at the man's insistence he decides to give in with a defeated sigh, already used to many of the townspeople's stubborn hospitality. Gently holding the box to his chest he nods, making the man smile brightly at him.

  "Good on ya ladd. Now off wit' ye, go off an' get yourself ready for the festival tonight-!"

   Needing no further prompting Morien turns and runs off, leaving an amused glassmith behind. As he runs to Isengrim and Fenris's home he waves at everyone who hollers a greeting towards him. Easily finding his way home he scraps off his boots on the front mat, walking into the main hall while hollering a loud greeting to let anyone who is home know he has returned. Hearing a muffled reply from upstairs Morien skips up the steps and wanders to the room the voice came from.

  Inside one of the many bedrooms he finds Fenris standing in front of a full body mirror buttoning on a deep blue vest with small silver stitched designs over a soft looking white dress shirt. Smiling at the sight of his Tad the blond walks into the room and sits on the nearby bed. Watching his father struggle with tying on a blue ascot with a sapphire brooch, he rolls his eyes with a smirk at the surprising amount of colorful curses coming from the usually stoic wolf hybrid. Deciding to leave his father to struggle he focuses on the gift from Aberforth and his family instead, gently opening the box. Gasping softly in delight, he reaches in and slowly pulls out a glass figurine of an adult mooshroom standing proudly; a flower crown of Cinquefoil and Crocus flowers interwoven with its mushrooms and broad horns. 

  "Notch's beard- some of ol Aberforth's work aye?"

  Jumping slightly in surprise he nearly drops the figurine, immediately huffing at his chuckling father in fake anger. Gently placing it back into its box he gets off the bed, giving Fenris a hug with a half hearted grumble. Pulling away he looks up at the wolf with his ears flat against his head, a thoughtful look on his face. 

  "Hey Tad? Are we announcing y'know.. that today? During the festival?"

  Smiling softly from the sight of his usually energetic and confident son acting so nervously he hums in thought while patting the blonds hair. Chuckling at his son's confused but relaxed look he smiles at him and nods, gently grabbing the mooshroom hybrid's shoulders as he speaks in a soft reassuring voice.

  "We can wait if you wish to pup. But in truth, I do not understand what's making you so fidgety my boy. They already love you, some would even say more than I, and I'm supposed ta be Gaffer-! Plannin on runnin' the town someday in me place ladd?"

   Laughing together over the thought of Morien running the town at his age they hug again. Once they've both calmed Fenris clasps his hands with a bright smile, practically beaming at the thought of announcing his son to the world.

  "Alright- Off with ye now, Festivals in just a few short hours and ye need ta get dressed-! Your Mam an' I made ye te perfect outfit for the announcement, it's on your bed. I'll be downstairs helpin your Mum prepare the pies she baked for the small party being held at the tavern, Once that's done with we'll head ta the festival. Sound good? Good, we'll meet ye in the parlour."

  With a gentle bump of their heads and a cheerful smile Fenris walks out of the room and downstairs, leaving the blond to wander off to his room on his own. 

  He smiles at the sight of the familiar room and immediately walks towards a window on the far wall, taking his new mooshroom figurine and placing it on the window sill, giving it a pleasant view of one of the many paths leading to the center of town. That small job done Morien starts to change into the outfit laying on his bed, regretting laughing at his father when he too starts to struggle with certain parts of his outfit. Once done he stands in front of his own full body mirror, his chest puffed up with pride from the sight of his cleaned up appearance.

  A deep scarlet waistcoat with small gold stitched accents and designs is buttoned up over a soft white dress shirt. Black pants and matching boots finish his outfit off nicely, and his polished horns and freshly combed tail complete the picture of a healthy growing lad. 

  Although enjoying his change in appearance, he can't quite help but wonder how they would think of him now. Reaching up to gently touch the scar over his left eye Morien becomes lost in his thoughts, memories and distant thoughts of friends long past clouding his mind. Before he can delve into his past much further he shakes himself out of his thoughts and heads downstairs, smiling at the sight of his Mum and Tad playfully arguing and gathering a couple small stacks of pies in the parlour. Catching a pie before it can fully escape Rose's grasp he smiles and immediately teases her over it falling, laughing as she half heartedly smacks him with her tail.  

   Together they venture out carrying the pies to Sucello's Keg , taking back alleys and roads to avoid the crowd in the festival square. There they greet party goers drinking early in preparation for the new years countdown, chatting happily while passing out pies for folks to feast on. For a few hours they kill time and celebrate the dawn of a new year with the tavern's regulars. Stories are shared and folks sneak Morien small tankards of mead while his parents are distracted, receiving reprimands whenever they're caught. Soon enough the hour turns closer to midnight and the crowd decides to move to the market, which has been converted into a full festival for the town's celebrations.

  Walking together in an accidental procession, Morien walks between Fenris and Rose, the rest of the party goers from the tavern walking either next to or behind them in a massive parade. As soon as everyone celebrating at the center of town sees them walk into the middle of the festivities, cheers of joy ring out. Making sure Morien is safe with his husband, Clara, and the twins, Fenris makes his way to the nearest table and stands up on it so that he can be visible to everyone. Seeing their Gaffer standing tall the crowd gradually quiets down in anticipation of his annual New Year's speech, occasional raised glasses and cheers erupting from the hearty folks who are already too many drinks in. Chuckling in clear enjoyment of his people's happiness Fenris clasps his hands as he starts his speech, his voice as deep and comforting as ever.

  " Blwyddyn newydd dda! Another year passes us by my friends, and though we mourn the passing of such an incredible year, together we greet the next one with love and celebration!" Gladly pausing to accept a tankard of mead from one of the many folks in the crowd, he holds it up in the air, smiling brightly as the people of Amaethon mimic him with mirroring smiles and drinks of their own. "Ta the ones we've lost and the ones we've gained! To us! To Amaethon! IECHYD DA! "

   With a roar of applause and great cheer Fenris and folks in the crowd drink, hats and confetti flying through the air. But before everyone can split off to party again the wolf hollers while waving his arms, laughing as he receives half hearted yells of confusion and discontent. Smiling brightly he holds his hands out in surrender as the crowd jeers at him, rolling his eyes in amusement and exasperation as he's teased.

   "Alright, alright ye bastards enough! I just need a moment more of your time." Clasping his hands and looking down for a moment as he gathers his thoughts, many are astounded to see tears glistening in the eyes of the normally stoic man when he looks back up at them.  "As all of ye know, earlier this year we were gifted one of the most incredible, joyous, and kindest people by the great seas themselves. We've been blessed ta have him, Our dearest Enaid bach - Our Morien! " As he calls out the blonds name he gestures towards him in the crowd, smiling proudly at his adoptive son. The villagers of Amaethon cheer and start to chant his name, parting and forming a path so the young mooshroom can walk towards Fenris. 

   Blushing hard but smiling happily from the obvious care and love the people of Amaethon have for him Morien walks towards his dark haired father, his other parents proudly walking side by side with him; giving him encouraging smiles whenever they catch him glancing at them. Taking his Tad 's hand he stands on the table with him, smiling wider as the gathered crowd somehow manages to cheer even louder at the sight of him standing next to the Old Gaffer. One by one Fenris helps the other parents of his beloved son onto the table, making many wonder how the table has not collapsed yet under the weight of 6 people.

  Looping an arm around Morien's shoulders in a side hug, the wolf hybrid smiles at the crowd, parental pride clear on not only his face but the others as well. Voice ringing out loud and clear, his words immediately bring awed looks and exstatic smiles to peoples faces.

"Amaethon! It is with great pride and undeniable joy I present to you, our son! Morien Heulyn, Son of Dedwydd! Son of Ffion! Son of Hafgan! Son of Isengrim! Son of Fenris! "

  With every name the people of Amaethon become more and more rambunctious, many of them hollering cheers and wishes of eternal happiness towards the happy family. The bell announcing the New Year rings loud and true, yet it's sound is smothered under the loud roar of happy people from the cozy sea-side town.

   Unnoticed by the cheerful crowd, the small unassuming figure of an ordinary looking Amaethon teen leaves the festivities. Slowly making their way down the empty roads of Amaethon they head towards the north end of town. Easily sneaking out of town past the drunk night guard they make their way to the far off empty fields, walking through them to an overgrown path in the woods. They constantly check to make sure their trail is either covered or destroyed, nervousness clear on their face. 

  Half way down the path they stop walking for a moment and a small burst of purplish-grey smoke envelops them. When it clears a clearly younger child stands in their place, looking around 10 or 11 years old. The kid has grey and white hair, pale skin, and dark eyes- their sclera is a shifting mix between black and grey instead of the usual white, and their pupils are red mixed with amber. They're dressed in an apprentice evoker's cloak and dark pants, gloves covering their hands. They glance around to double check that they weren't seen before continuing the small trek through the woods, crossing a broken down bridge and climbing through a broken window of a clearly abandoned mill.

   Gently tugging at the gloves on their hands they make their way down winding hallways till they're in a large open room. They walk to the center to stand before an older man seated on a makeshift armchair. The man's hair is grey, practically white, and horribly matted; a large beard adorns his face reaching down to mid chest. His clothes are tattered and worn looking yet he still strikes an imposing and intimidating presence. Scarred and ripped wolf ears poke up out of his large mane of hair, a matching tail puffed up and curled around the back of his chair. A single yellow slitted eye glares harshly at the newcomer, the other eye missing and covered in large scars. The man's claws dig into the armrests of his chair as he growls out harsh biting words.

   " Brysiwch . Pa newyddion ydych chi'n dod â nhw?"

    Flinching from the man's harsh tone the young evoker looks down at their feet, hugging themselves for some form of comfort. With a soft fearful voice they respond.

" Mae gan y blaidd etifedd. Mae wedi mabwysiadu mab..A Mooshroom."

  They cry out in surprise and fear as a mug unexpectedly hits a wall near them, the old wolf hybrid hollering curses to the heavens in rage from the news he's been given. Before the man can reach for anything else a hand stops him, the owner of said hand murmuring gentle reassurance that this new information changes nothing. Now standing tall next to the white haired man's chair is another wolf hybrid, clearly related to the man from his looks and ability to calm the angry wolf without being harmed. Dark hair, amber eyes, and similar clothes clearly marks the man as the older wolf's son.

  " Ni fydd ein cynlluniau yn methu. Os gwelwch yn dda fod â ffydd yn eich mab, ni fyddaf yn eich methu. "

  The older wolf opens his mouth to argue only to be interrupted by a violent coughing fit. His son holds him to stop him from falling out of his chair, pulling away once the older man seems to recover enough to sit on his own. Stepping away to stand in front of him he forces himself to ignore the specks of blood on his father's lips.

  Growling under his breath, the white haired wolf looks up at his son, desperation and fear hiding behind a burning rage in his eye.

"Tyngu i mi. I'r duwiau."

   The darker haired man nods and immediately bows with a fist over his heart, his voice grave with seriousness and conviction.

" Tyngaf gan y duwiau y mae fy mhobl yn rhegi trwyddynt. Tyngaf gan The Morrigan, y bydd ei ddigofaint yn arwain fy nghleddyf ac mae ei chariad yn ysbrydoli teyrngarwch i mi. Os dylwn dorri fy llw, bydd y ddaear yn torri'n agored i'm llyncu, bydd y môr yn codi i'm boddi, a'r awyr yn cwympo i'm torri. "

  Sighing shakily while gripping the armrests of his chair tightly the younger wolf's father closes his eye while he listens to his son's oath, a deep feeling of certainty and confidence in his son's skills helping him relax for the first time in many years. For a long moment there is a tense silence, no one daring to speak lest they bring out the wolf's anger again. His voice firm with an iron will, the old wolf gives a command.

" Ewch, Yn barod ein milwyr. Bydd Amaethon yn llosgi’n fwy disglair na Haul Olwen. "

Chapter Text

Mawrth 6th, 2022- Outside Amaethon

"Hurry up mrawd mawr , we're gonna be late!"

    Chasing each other in circles around a lone blond haired figure, a large gaggle of children harasses them innocently in a way only children can get away with. Hollering, tugging on his hands to make him follow, climbing on his back and tugging on his horns; Morien was buried from head to toe in a large pile of the village's youth and he honestly couldn't be happier. Disgruntled when they tug on his hair or his tail, yes. But unhappy? Angry? No. With every call of mrawd mawr, he's quite sure his heart has grown twelve times over. Thirty even.

   Chuckling at the children's antics, Morien plays with them, slowly leading them towards where they wish to go. Some will ask him later but he'll deny it till he's red in the face that hearing them call him mrawd mawr makes him tear up in any way. Gently picking up one of the younger kids, a small white haired cat hybrid named Ze if he remembers correctly, Morien leads the kids to the flower fields outside of Amaethon. 

   The group slowly make their way through the field, reaching a large tree on the outer edge of the forest. Sitting under the tree is a woman with short black hair, a soft green dress with an apron over it, and cat-like features common for a cat hybrid. Seeing the approaching crowd she smiles, chuckling as some of the children run up to hug her, rattling off about stories Morien told them during their walk to the tree. Everyone greets the woman warmly and soon split off to do their own things. Some play tag in the flowers, others sit under the shade of the tree and doze. Morien, with the woman's gentle prompting, sits down under the tree next to her and listens closely as she shows him and a few other children how to make flower crowns.

  They bask in the warmth of the sun for a few hours until some of the children decide they've had enough play for the day. Ze, the white haired cat hybrid Morien had been carrying just hours before approaches the woman with a shy smile.

   "Miss Bernadette, Can we have a story? Morien hasn't heard the story of Gwenydd and Hamaeth yet!"

   Taking a moment to pretend to consider it, the woman, now revealed to be Bernadette, puts a finger to her chin as she hums in thought. Smirking as some of the children start to whine, she chuckles and reaches up to playfully ruffle Ze's hair.

  "Alright, go on then. Gather everyone up."

   With a bright smile and a quick thank you Ze runs off into the sea of flowers, hollering at any child they see to gather at the foot of the tree for storytime. Within moments everyone is gathered around Bernadette and Morien, many of them sitting either near or on the blond mooshroom in a large cuddle pile. Chuckling at the sight of Ze sitting on Morien's shoulders playing with his horns, Bernadette pats the hair of one of the kids cuddled into her side as she starts her tale.

   Long ago, long before Amaethon was what we know it as now, our home was a small village called Brynmor . 

  Back then, there was no such thing as peace. Hybrids were exiled, banished from their homes, and loathed with a dark passion. The fight between humans and mobs was a constant never ending struggle. And the humans of Brynmor were no exception, banishing any hybrid they encountered to perish in the wilds. The hybrids of Brynmor that managed to survive banishment lived in what we now know as Llŷr's Cove, in tunnels dug by hand and caves of shining crystal. 

   Among them were two hybrids named Gwenydd and Hamaeth. 

   Gwenydd was the son of the leader of the Llŷr Cove residents, a strong yet kind wolf hybrid. Hamaeth was a mooshroom hybrid known for his gentle soul and heart of gold, earning him the name Calon gariadus .

   Hamaeth lived true to both of his names. Many of the trees surrounding Amaethon were supposedly grown by him and some of the hybrids of the cove to help them relax safely away from the townsfolk of Brynmor. It is even said that the glowing mushrooms of Llŷr's Cove were cultivated by his own hand, created to help chase away the fears of any young hybrid who found themselves lost in the dark tunnels of the cove. Despite finding many ways to help his people live comfortably under the earth he found himself wishing for more, feeling that the improvements he made were not enough. 

   He had a dream, you see. From birth he dreamed of a town flowing with love, a home for any and all who walked it's streets. No discrimination, no fights, no hate. Nothing but never ending acceptance, no matter your origins. His dream and will was so strong that many thrived and believed in his dream alongside him, Gwenydd included to his fathers horror. Not long after their Deffroad Enaid they started to plan and gather supplies, gathering people to their cause. Hope filled the caves for the first time in years, even more so once scouts confirmed the location of land they could start to build their new home on.

  No one knows how it began. Many suspect that one of the residents of the cove sold out the couple's plans to the humans of the town, others believe that one of the younger hybrids was scared into accidentally changing into their hybrid form during a confrontation in town. Several even believe that some of the more spirited hybrids of the cove tried to start a coupe. But all storytellers agree on one thing.

   Hamaeth never lived to see his dream through. The humans of Brynmor took him and the leader of the hybrids away, though where has been lost to time. When Gwenydd learned of not only his father's kidnapping but also the disappearance of his love, his tears flowed stronger than the Afon Dwyfor , scattering with the four winds. Seeing the young leader's grief filled tears, the smithing god Gofannon was moved to tears himself. Quickly making his decision the god gathered all of Gwenydd's tears and forged them into thousands of shining stars, tossing them into the dark skies as a symbol of the grieving wolf's love.

   With the possible blood of the cove people's beloved Calon gariadus on their hands the humans of Brynmor gathered their weapons and prepared to destroy the hybrids once and for all. His heart heavy and drowning in sorrow, Gwenydd accepted their declaration of war with hateful gladness; Calling on the blessing of The Morrigan to grant them victory. To honor the smith god's starry gift the young wolf fought his foes using a spear with the god's symbol on its hilt.

   The battle raged on for 7 days and 7 long unforgiving nights. By its end Brynmor had become nothing but a field of ashes and blood, the people of Llŷr's Cove winning but with a hefty price. The mothers and children of Brynmor were spared, some choosing to leave for new beginnings, others gladly accepting the hybrids amongst them; Having been unable to speak up against the leaders of the old town without fear of being banished themselves. 

   Leading his people through the fields of carnage Gwenydd took leadership over them with a firm and unyielding iron will. Determined to make sure his beloved's dream lived on, the war torn wolf built a new town atop the ashes of the charred city, naming their new home Amaethon in memory of his lost love. His care for his people and determination to move forward despite the many hardships he faced earned him immense honor and the name Cryfder Tragwyddol .

    Gently ending the story Bernadette smiles at the sight of many of the children dozing in the cuddle pile. Buried underneath many snoozing kids Morien gives the older woman an amused smile, humming happily when he notices that some of them had braided his hair during the story, several flowers weaved into the braid. Talking softly they chuckle over the adorable sight of the young hybrids sleeping amongst the flowers. Working together they eventually start gathering the children up and lead them back to town, many of them on the blond's back or in his arms sleeping away. As they slowly trek through the large flower field Morien becomes lost in thought, a small frown obscuring his usually pleasant face.

  ( If there had been a war, wouldn't there still be signs left over, even now? And the humans banishing hybrids. Warfare and discrimination isn't normally that clear cut, never that gentle. If this entire situation was as terrible as he thinks it is, the story they were told was likely dumbed down on purpose in order to not scare the kids, and if that's truly the case then he's going to have to ask someone for the full unedited story. Perhaps Fenris or Clara, who knows if the others would know or tell him the full truth… )

   Nodding to himself in confirmation as he makes his decision he clears his thoughts, focusing more on making sure the kids make it home safely. 

   Continuing with his day, Bernadette's story lingers in the back of his mind, making itself known whenever he has a few moments of silence. His frustration grows as the day progresses, never seeming to find an appropriate time to ask anyone his questions. Soon enough he simply pushes everything out of his thoughts and focuses on his work for the day.

  It isn't till he's sitting in an armchair reading that afternoon that he remembers, nearly dropping his book on the floor in his haste to find one of his parents to pester. Setting the book on his chair he runs down the hall, sighing in relief when he finds Clara packing some snack foods into a small satchel. Approaching her he hops up onto the counter next to her and sits himself down, stealing one of the snacks with a cheeky smirk. Munching on his prize he casually swings his legs, his mind temporarily distracted from his mission by the fact his mam is dressed in light travel gear.

  "Whatcha doin' mam? " 

  Chuckling at her son's antics she smiles, slowly checking over everything packed in her satchel. Once done she straps the satchel over her shoulder and gives Morien a soft smile.

  "Adventuring, fy enaid bach . Sometimes I find myself unable to sleep, so I take over watching the sea from the lighthouse so that whoever is on watch can get some rest. Would you like ta come wit' me?"

   Jumping down from the counter Morien smiles brightly, his tail nearly knocking some containers of spices off the counter. Rattling off something indecipherable he runs off to change into better clothes. Smiling in amusement Clara quickly gathers up some extra snacks and follows him. Writing out a quick note for the others to let them know Morien is with her, she leaves it on a table in the living room before making her way to the parlour, pulling on a cloak to help stave off the cool summer air. Soon enough Morien returns from his room in some light travel clothes of his own, sporting a small satchel on his hip he had been gifted by one of his friends last christmas. Taking a moment to pack some of the snacks into his satchel and to get him wrapped up in a cloak of his own they eventually set off, traveling out of town using the northern gate. 

   Walking together through the farmer's fields they chat about anything that comes to mind, Clara gladly rattling off random facts any Amaethon teen Morien's age would normally learn growing up. They quicken their pace once they reach a small stretch of woods, not wishing to be caught in the thicket by any unsavory characters after nightfall. Towering high above them they make their way to the old lighthouse, exchanging pleasantries with the tired looking lightkeeper before slowly climbing the steps up to the top of the towering structure.

   Once at the top they lean against the railing and simply admire the view, occasionally working together to check on the beacon behind them. As they watch the sun set into the sea Morien frowns and murmurs softly without looking away from the view in front of them, remembering his questions from earlier in the day.

" Mam .. What's the true story of Hamaeth and Gwenydd?"

   Clara hums in thought and slight confusion, glancing at the blond from the corner of her eye.

"The true story, cigfran fach? Did Bernadette not tell you?"

  Huffing in mild irritation Morien turns to face her fully, a hard yet faraway look in his eyes as he projects his inner thoughts a little too well.

" Mam I may be young but I'm no fokn fool. They didn't just banish the hybrids, did they? And there's no way in hell an entire community of people simply forgot what happened to one of their cherished heroes, you don't fucking forget something like that, it's impossible! There's something more, something missing in the story-!" Panting softly as he accidentally works himself up he mutters an apology while looking away again, flushed a little in embarrassment at his sudden outburst. Unknown to him he misses his mother's look of understanding and concern- She'd seen the look in his eyes before, in the eyes of fishermen who lost a crew member to the sea, and in the eyes of warriors home from war; A deep all consuming loss that should have no place in the eyes of one so young.

   Reluctantly choosing not to pry for now she sighs quietly and approaches him slowly, gently resting a hand on his shoulder as she guides him to a nearby bench usually meant for the lightkeeper. Taking his hands in hers she gently makes him look at her, giving him a soft comforting smile when he glances away.

"You're right, there's more, and you're more than old enough ta hear it. But the tale is long and quite disturbing to hear, would you be alright with waiting? Not for long I promise you, just until tomorrow, the day after tomorrow at the latest. There is a special place where the story is traditionally told, I'll tell you the truth there. Swear on my soul."

   Examining her face for any deception as he considers her words he eventually sighs, smiling softly while squeezing her hands. 

"..Fine. I'll wait, only 'cuz I'm curious 'bout the place you're talkin about." Leaning over he gently knocks their heads together the way Rose loves to show everyone her love, chuckling quietly as Clara teases him for his imitation.

  That brief moment of tension over with Clara decides to change the subject a bit, pointing out different clusters of stars in the sky. Making up stories for each star they find they simply hang out together, basking in the quiet and each other's comforting company.

   If the stars happen to glow a bit brighter for the duo to enjoy, neither comment on it, though the older of the two silently thanks the deities above for giving them a sight for them to admire. The smile on her son's face will be a lasting memory in her mind for years to come.

Chapter Text

Mawrth 7th, 2022- Abandoned Mill

" Allan! Rydych chi'n ffycin ddiwerth, pob un ohonoch chi!"

   With a loud crash and several pained cries, a small group of individuals in dark robes are thrown out of a room, slamming into a set of worn looking double doors. Standing over them with a sneer of pure disgust on his face is a dark haired wolf hybrid. Spitting on one  of the people on the ground, the man slams the doors closed and walks back into the room he'd come from, approaching a large bed while muttering curses under his breath. Sitting in a chair next to the bed he pulls a large diamond forged sword out of a sheath on his back, pointedly ignoring the disappointed glare aimed at him by the older man laying in the bed.

" Cadfael. Edrych arna i, Cadfael. "

   Noticing the younger man is ignoring him he quickly becomes sick of his son's attitude. The older wolf grabs a nearby mug and tosses it at him, glaring harder as the younger wolf curses him out while rubbing the new bump on his forehead. Growling out his words he clutches the blankets covering his legs, practically baring his teeth in his growing rage.

" Ydych chi'n dwp? Wedi cyffwrdd yn y pen efallai? Wnes i ddim eich codi chi i fod yn ffwl, ti fachgen twp! Sut meiddiwch chi fentro ein cynlluniau! Dylwn eich rhoi dros fy mhen-glin a churo'ch asyn ffôl. Rydych chi'n fy mab nawr yn dechrau ffycin actio fel y dyn ydych chi! " 

   Reaching up to hold his chest his rant is cut off as he starts to gasp for breath, unable to hear his son's concerned cries through the pounding in his ears. He starts to cough quite violently into his free hand, each cough spraying blood from his mouth and onto the blankets covering him. Breathing shakily through clenched teeth he grudgingly lets Cadfael lay him down on the bed and help clean off the blood. Sighing softly in defeat he relaxes into his bed, looking up at his son with dark tired eyes. Voice rough with exhaustion he murmurs quietly while weakly reaching for something around his neck.

" Mae fy amser yn dod i ben. Nid oes gwellhad i mi, rhaid i chi barhau â'n cynlluniau ar eich pen eich hun. "

   Reaching out a trembling hand he hands his son a small pendant engraved with roses and wolves. Staring blankly at his father for a moment, the younger wolf clenches the pendant in his hand. Closing his eyes he grabs one of the other man's hands and clings to it, pressing his forehead to their joined hands while murmuring softly.

" Fe'ch gwnaf yn falch "

  Huffing in reluctant acceptance the old wolf closes his eyes, knowing deep down what is about to come. His voice still rough from illness and blood he gives what is possibly his last command.

" Gadewch fi, Cadfael ap Gwydyr. Rwyf am fod ar fy mhen fy hun. "

  Nodding once to his father's words Cadfael steps away, picking up his sword from where he'd dropped it. He walks out of the room while sheathing it back onto his back and nearly regrets doing so when he sees a dark haired messenger running towards him. With a glare he lifts a hand in a silent command for them to stay quiet, snapping at them with clear venom in his voice.

" Ddim yma rydych chi'n damnio ffwl. Dilyn fi. "

  Clicking his tongue with clear annoyance as the messenger cowers before him he walks off without seeing if they follow him. Soon enough he walks into a large open room and sits on a worn armchair, pointedly ignoring the blood stains on the floor in front of the chair as he gestures for the messenger to finally speak.

" Allan ag ef. "

    Trembling as they move closer the young evoker turned messenger kneels in the center of the room, knowing the news they bring will likely entice the young lord's temper, and ultimately bring their end.

" Mae Grigor yn anfon gair o'r Dwyrain, fy arglwydd. Roedd eu cyrch yn ddi-ffrwyth. "

   The young lord clenches his teeth hard in an attempt not to lash out again like he did earlier. Ultimately he fails to hide his anger completely for the messenger flinches when he speaks.  

" Pa mor hir fydd y golled hon yn ein gosod yn ôl? "

   Noticing they haven't lost their head yet the messenger relaxes into a false sense of security. They clasp their hands and stare at the floor, hoping their next words won't ruin the lord's apparent show of good faith.

   " Un flwyddyn, efallai mwy. Nid oes gennym ddigon o gyflenwadau i filwyr symud syr ymlaen. "

  They never even hear his sword leave it's sheath. 

  Wiping the blood on his blade off on the now deceased messenger's shirt he calls out for the guards outside to dispose of the mess he's made. Striding back towards the armchair he calmly watches some servants take away the body, sitting down to properly clean and sharpen his sword. Lost in thought he never notices the passing of time, too many plans and worries clouding his mind.

Mawrth 8th, 2022- Afternoon, Storytelling Tree/ Flower Field outside Amaethon

"Whatcha writin' mrawd mawr ?"

    Looking up from the paper on his lap Morien smiles when he sees Ze, tilting the paper a bit so that they can see. 

  "I'm writing a friend, brawd neu chwaer bach ."

   Gasping excitedly, the small cat hybrid claps their hands and immediately runs over to sit next to the amused blond, leaning in close so they can read what he's writing. 

  "A friend? What's their name? How'd you meet? Are they coming here? Can we throw them a party? Mama can make them the bestest dresses 'nd shirts, We's just gotta ask!"

   Chuckling at the younger hybrid's excitement Morien ruffles their hair, returning to his writing with an amused hum. He answers each of their questions calmly and becomes so focused on his letter that he doesn't notice Ze absentmindedly braiding some of his hair. So used to the children of Amaethon decorating his hair he occasionally passes Ze a flower or two without even thinking about it.

  "Her name is Fayina and I met her when I was out sailing by myself, long before I came here. She might come to Amaethon if I invite her who knows, and yes you can throw her a party if she decides to come, I'll even help you gather flowers for some flower crowns. I'm sure Miss Bernadette would make her some dresses and shirts even if we didn't ask kiddo, you know how nice your Mum is."

  "Is she nice like you mrawd mawr ?"

  Humming softly in amusement he continues to write, hiding small winces whenever they accidently tug on his hair too hard.

  "Super nice. One of the nicest people I've ever met." Looking over his shoulder at them he holds his quill out to them with a soft encouraging smile, his eyes shining with mirth. "Want ta write her a letter too? I'm sure she'd love it."

   Smiling brightly from his offer they grab the quill and sit down next to him, babbling about everything they plan on saying to her as Morien grabs extra paper from his satchel for them to use. As soon as the paper is in their hands they get to work, occasionally asking the amused blond how to spell certain words. Sitting in a comfortable silence they lean against each other as they write their letters, Morien using an extra quill he had stored in his satchel. While they wait for the ink to dry on their letters they chat about the loving grandmotherly figure Morien had met on his travels, the small cat hybrid immediately wondering if the blond and her were related since they're both cows ( "what do you mean she's not your nain ?" "She's not my nain by blood but she adopted me as her ŵyr , brawd neu chwaer bach." )

   Noticing the sun is starting to go down they pack everything and decide to go, Morien lifting Ze up to sit on his shoulders as they make their way back to town. Ze holds onto the blond's horns as they tell him grand adventures they had with their friends. The sight of the cheerful duo brings smiles to the faces of anyone who sees them, lots of folks hollering greetings or giving them sweets to enjoy.

   Snacking on some of the food they were given, they make their way to the post house, giving their letters to one of the workers to be sent off with a messenger hawk. Hugging each other tightly they go their separate ways, Morien heading towards his home while Ze runs off to find some of their friends to hang out with.

  Stopping by his home to change into better clothes for hiking, he sets off towards the pier to meet Clara at the dock. Seeing her cloaked figure standing near the dock he smiles and runs the rest of the way, enveloping her in a hug with a bright smile. Laughing softly from his enthusiastic greeting Clara hugs him back, briefly wrapping her wings around him as she squeezes him. Once they pull away from each other she chuckles at the sight of him, gently fussing over his flower braided hair with an amused smile. 

"Ran into some of the little ones again, cigfran fach ?" 

  Puffing up with pride at his little sibling's work he nods with a bright smile, immediately rambling about hanging out with Ze writing letters. Listening to her son talk about his day Clara slowly starts walking up the path to town, smiling softly at her son's clear joy. Chatting about the children of Amaethon they make their way down a rocky path leading to Llŷr's Cove, stopping outside the entrance for a moment to light torches.

  The moment they walk into the cove Morien is immediately on edge, his hand constantly gravitating to the handle of the sword on his hip. Subconsciously he starts to crowd around his mother, trying to protect her from the shadows around them. Eventually becoming fondly sick of his behavior Clara gently grabs his arm, giving him a small understanding smile when he looks at her with clear confusion on his face.

  "We're safe here Morien. There are enchantments to keep outsiders away from the tunnels, let them become used to you and the feeling of danger will eventually fade."

   Relaxing a bit from trust and this new information he nods, smiling back. Watching him for a moment to make sure he's alright she soon starts walking again, leading him deeper into the cove until they're at what seems to be the back of the cave. Stepping forward, much to Morien's alarm his mother disappears into the wall in front of them. Hesitating for a moment he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before walking towards the wall, silently fearing that he'll be rejected by whatever ancient magic keeps this place hidden. 

    He shivers when he feels an odd sensation on his skin, only opening his eyes once he hears his mother's amused chuckling. Pouting from her playful teasing he crosses his arms, chuckling with her as they walk down the dark tunnel they're in. As they travel through tunnel after tunnel Clara starts to tell him facts about certain groups of carvings on the walls and glowing mushrooms growing on the ground. (" Hamaeth was real? He actually made all these glow-shrooms?" "Indeed he was, and yes he did. You've seen how dark these tunnels are- he wanted everyone to feel safe, no matter where they were underground." )

   After a few more stories and even more tunnels, they arrive at a set of ornately carved stone double doors. Plants and hybrids of all kinds decorate the doors, runes of protection and preservation carved seamlessly into the designs. Accidentally startling Morien out of his thoughts, Clara rests her hand on his shoulder, giving him a serious and apprehensive look.

  "Are you ready?"

  Noticing the apprehension on her face he nods with a serious look of his own, reaching up to place one of his hands over hers.

  "I'm ready. I trust you mam ."

   Sighing shakily she gives him a small smile and squeezes his hand. Stepping forward she slowly starts the true tale, occasionally pointing at certain carvings on the doors as she speaks.

   Most of what Bernadette told you was the truth. Hamaeth and Gwenydd were real people, and there was a battle between the people of Llŷr's Cove and the humans of Brynmor in which the hybrids won.

   But you were right in believing the story was too clean. That details were being hidden. We were not hiding the truth from you on purpose, fy mab, merely trying to preserve the innocence of the young ones hearing the story with you. Please understand and forgive us- a tale such as this should not be told to ones so young.

   The hate shared between humans and hybrids resulted in more fear and bloodshed than you could ever imagine. Because of this, hybrids were scorned and despised, there was no such thing as banishment when a hybrid was concerned. If you were caught by the humans you would be lucky if your death was swift. 

    The hybrids of Llŷr's Cove went to great lengths to hide their home. We can count on one hand the amount of humans that were trusted enough to know and even live amongst the people of the cove, and their descendants live amongst us to this day.

   Two of the most well known and beloved hybrids of Llŷr's Cove, as you have learned, were Hamaeth and Gwenydd. The loving mooshroom and the leader's wolf son. Calon gariadus and Cryfder Tragwyddol . But what many don't learn until they're of age-

   Clara places her hands on the double doors and starts to push, murmuring with a grave seriousness.

   - the leader of the cove had another son.

   Stepping into a large spacious room, Morien's breath is stolen away with awe at the sight he's seeing.

   Spread out from floor to ceiling are thousands of designs and mosaics, coming together to tell a story nearly lost to time. Candles and offerings of flowers and coins are littered throughout the room. Glowshrooms and gems of all kinds hang from the ceiling on large stalagmites, a small steady stream of water dripping from them into a small glowing pool. Separated in a triangle formation at the center of the room stand 3 large statues surrounding the pool of water, small man-made rivers flowing from the pool to take the water somewhere unknown.

   Approaching the statues Morien looks at them closely, starting with the one closest to the doors, which is clearly a mooshroom hybrid- Large horns with lanterns hanging from them and rippling curls flow down their back. Mixed in with their large nest of curls are several small braids with one larger one behind their ear, hidden behind the curls framing their face. The curls on their head nearly hide their ears, small earrings inlaid with precious stones decorating them.Their eyes are closed and a gentle smile lights up their face, a small beard and mustache with some flowers tucked into it's curls giving them the appearance of a gentle giant. They're wearing a full body tunic with a cloak over their shoulder, and their hands are cupped; collecting water from some of the stalagmites overhead. Glow-shrooms and flowers carved of stone flow around their feet as if they themself had just grown them.

   The statue to the mooshroom's right is a tall wolf hybrid who looks remarkably similar to Morien's father, Fenris. Long wavy hair reaches their mid back, they have a thin scruffy beard on their chin giving them the appearance of one who never had the chance to take much time to shave. They stand taller than the other statues in the room, Ornate armour decorating their lithe frame. A small simple looking circlet rests on their head, flowers that look suspiciously like the ones around the mooshroom statue tucked into their hair. Their ears are tucked down against their hair giving them a sad yet still strong air. A large scar marrs the left side of their face. They hold a sword with both hands, the tip of the blade pointed down towards the floor. Their eyes are closed and their head is down, glowing tears of grief flowing from their eyes. Water from the stalagmites above drip onto their face forming their tears. Around their feet are large piles of offerings, wealth of all sorts flowing beneath them.

   Clara stands with him as he examines the last statue, silently looking at it with a soft sad look. The statue is of another wolf hybrid, with similar hair and beard as the other but with broader shoulders and a more ornate set of armour on. They wear a crown of metal thorns and diamonds with a dark veil of black lace flowing from its base, partially obscuring their face. Through the veil you can see that their eyes are closed and their face is set in a permanent frown. In their left hand they clutch a skull made of obsidian, and in their right rests a sword with it's blade stabbed into the ground. Rising up around their feet are stone carvings of lethal mobs, blades of obsidian and crystal glowing with an inner light shooting out in all directions as if they had formed by the statue stamping their foot down. 

   Reaching up to adjust the veil over the statue's face Clara continues her tale, her voice full of clear sorrow. Morien helps her fix it until the veil fully hides the statue's face. Standing side by side her words strike something deep within him, and as the tale continues he remembers things he wishes ever so desperately that he could forget-

    Gwawrddydd. Yr Un Anghofiedig.

Eldest son of Fenrisúlfr , leader of the hybrids of Llŷr's Cove. 

   When Gwawrddydd and Gwenydd were young pups just barely of age, their father died by the hands of the humans from Brynmor . Ladds of just 15 and 19 were forced to watch as their father, whom they'd grown up admiring and emulating since they were mere babes on their mother's bosom, was stabbed, quartered, and fed to the human's dogs as if he were simple scraps from their table.

    Responsibility stacked high on his shoulders Gwawrddydd tried his hardest to make sure his people were safe and happy, especially his younger brother. Even if it meant he had to sacrifice his heart.

   You see, both brothers were in love with their beloved Hamaeth, a strong yet gentle mooshroom hybrid who had stood with them since they were children. Learning of his brother's shared love for Hamaeth, Gwawrddydd decidely kept his feelings silently to himself, choosing his brother's happiness over his own. He gave them his blessing, and soon enough they made plans to be wed after they both completed their Deffroad Enaid , a ceremony you yourself will have to go through once you reach your 18th birthday. 

   The Deffroad Enaid ceremony is quite sacred, starting thousands of years before the story of the brothers even began. In fact it is said the first Deffroad Enaid happened at this very pool. During the Deffroad Enaid you become one with your core, obtaining abilities from your ancestors and even Marciau Enaid , markings showing you to be chosen by whichever deity you caught the attention of. But more will be told about that much later, I promise you.

    Although quite stressful at times, life for them was quite peaceful. The tunnels in Llŷr's Cove were expanded and several new secret doors were made. Gwawrddydd continued to keep his people safe, even when they disguised themselves to sell things in Byron as traveling merchants despite his worried wishes. And Hamaeth and Gwenydd continued to fall deeper and deeper in love. Hamaeth held true to his dream of founding a town where all were welcome, and Gwawrddydd, the lovesick fool that he was, gave his crush all the funds and people he wished for to make his dream a reality. Gwenydd saw his brother's generosity as simple wedding gifts and not the pining that it so clearly was, thanking his older brother profusely for granting his fiancé's wish.

   But one day the peace was irreparably broken. While the brothers were looking over maps and planning things out for Hamaeth's city, Hamaeth, who was supposed to be outside the cove working on a forest he had created for the people to enjoy when the caves became too much, a messenger ran in screaming their soul chilling news.

    The humans of Brynmor were preparing stakes to be burned. Four hybrids had been captured, including a mooshroom with long red hair.  

   Hearing of Hamaeth's possible demise the brothers gathered their armour, some of the cove people's warriors, and donned human disguises before making their way to the town. They traveled as swiftly as they could, but when they arrived at the center of town the fires had already been lit, the only thing visible above the roaring flames being a red head of hair and a large set of pearly white horns. 

   Seeing the horrifying sight of his love burned to ashes, Gwawrddydd's heart turned to stone within his chest, and it was as he watched the ashes from the still burning pire soar into the sky he swore to himself and every deity above that he would destroy the ones who killed his Calon garaidus . 

    Gathering everyone he had brought with him he brought his brother home, tucking him away in the family rooms to mourn. Making sure everyone was distracted with the news of Hamaeth's death Gwawrddydd rode back to town while the humans slept and did something most to this day find unforgivable. 

    Raising a special horn to his lips he let out a resounding cry, waking all who heard it. As the humans converged together to attack him he enacted the vile power of Pydru'r Enaid , an old curse meant to corrupt one's magical core and soul, most commonly resulting in death. One after another perished, and as the humans cried out and begged for him to end their pain he strode through town with a vicious smile on his face, returning home to inform everyone of what in his eyes was good news.

   But upon walking into his family's quarters he finds his heart shattering all over again.

  In the center of the room, holding each other close was Gwenydd and Hamaeth , though the reunion was not as happy as one would think or hope for.

  As it turns out, Hamaeth had not burned as everyone had thought. He had fallen asleep in his garden outside of Brynmor, enveloped in the warmth of the sun. The sound of Gwawrddydd's horn had woken him, and upon recognizing what the sound of that horrid horn meant had quickly run to some of the homes on the outer stretch of the city. He managed to escort many of the humans and their families out of range of the curse and to his garden, but was not quick enough to save himself. Fearing the possibility of dying alone Hamaeth drew up all his strength to resist the Pydru'r Enaid for as long as possible, using one of the secret passages to make it to his and Gwenydd's room's. Quickly finding his love sitting at a desk weeping he stumbled towards him, falling into the wolf's arms as the last of his strength left him. And that is where Gwawrddydd finds them now, broken and desperately holding onto each other as one dies slowly in the other's arms. He could do nothing but stare in pure horror, his already marred soul sinking deeper into the darkness wrought by the curse he so willingly cast.

  " Os gwelwch yn dda, fy nghariad " Hamaeth murmured, his hand cupping Gwenydd's face tenderly. " Os gwelwch yn dda. Mae'n brifo cymaint. Ni allaf..- "

   Shushing him softly Gwenydd could do nothing but hold his beloved closer, closing his eyes as he rested their foreheads together. " Rwy'n gwybod fy nghalon. Rwy'n gwybod. Rydw i yma, ni fyddaf yn eich gadael. " 

   Finding comfort in his love's presence Hamaeth murmured soft reassurances, slowly losing his strength. With that Hamaeth closed his eyes and breathed his last breath, leaving behind a broken man in his wake. His love now passed on Gwenydd looked up, snarling when he saw his brother's ashen face. " CAEL ALLAN- " He roared. " MURDERER! I HOLD NO LOVE IN MY HEART FOR YOU, YOU WRETCHED THING-! LEAVE-! "

   Clenching his teeth as the last of his family casts him out for good Gwawrddydd ran, taking nothing with him but the armour on his back and the darkness simmering in his soul. Returning to what he thought would be a barren town, he instead found something horrifying yet in his now broken and twisted mind, quite pleasing. The curse he had cast did not kill everyone, those who survived the pain were changed, becoming what he soon named Y Gwrthodedig . The Rejected. Or as we now know them, Evokers . The newly created Evokers held no memory of their past, only new knowledge of the dark much to the cast off leader's joy. Staying with the Evokers the darkness inside Gwawrddydd only grew stronger, destroying his mind until he was convinced the people of Llŷr's Cove were at fault for his misgivings.

   A year and a day after the death of his love Gwenydd sat atop the hill above the cove and wept, his heart still as broken as the day he lost him. Watching from above the god of smithing Gofannon was moved to tears himself at the sight of the lone wolf's grief. Drying his tears the god made a quick decision, quickly asking the four winds to gather Gwenydd's tears for him. Working hard until the sun set in the horizon, the god forged the broken hearted wolf's tears into thousands of gems, tossing them into the sky to become the shining stars above to help remind the wolf of the beautiful love he once shared with his dear mooshroom. Heartened by the god's marvelous gift Gwenydd called out his thanks before heading to his own forge, creating a fine spear with the god's symbol burned into its handle. 

   Deciding to avenge those lost to his brother's foolish rage, Gwenydd gathered all who could fight and declared war. His brother responded in kind and soon enough began brwydr y toredig. For days they fought, losses stacking high on both sides. But Gwawrddydd's fate was sealed the moment he uttered those cursed words, and by the war's end he found himself stabbed through the chest by his own brother's spear. Laying in the wreckage of the land he once called home Gwawrddydd smiled and thanked his brother for freeing him, soon dying from his wounds inflicted by the one he once sought to protect. 

   With most of their foes dead or run off, the people burned down the ruins of Brynmor and built a new home in its place, naming it Amaethon in memory of the one they called Calon gariadus . Gwenydd lived on and forged a city of hope and light, earning his name Cryfder Tragwyddol . He fell in love again, though he never forgot the true owner of his heart, and lived for many years with his family. Before his passing he had the statues standing before us made in the likeness of those he lost, the one of himself only being added after he died.

  "And with that, you now know the truth."

  Turning her head to look at her son, Clara's heart breaks at the sight of tears rolling down his cheeks. Seeing his legs trembling she quickly catches him in a hug before he can fall into the glow pool, holding him close as he sobs into her neck. Humming softly she runs her fingers through his hair in hopes of helping him calm down some.

   They sit and hold each other for a while, neither noticing the passage of time. After a while Morien's sobs subside and he murmurs quietly, still clinging to his mother for comfort as his mind clouds with memories.

   "I knew someone like Gwawrddydd. My brother. He tried to do something similar, he was only trying to keep me safe but I.. I failed him. Mam I failed him..-"

    Shushing him softly as he starts to rile himself up again Clara gently holds his face in her hands, wiping away his tears with her thumbs while giving him a soft loving smile. 

   "Morien- Look at me, my lovely boy. I may not know what you've gone through, and I may not know who you used to be, but I do know the incredible person I and the others were gifted by the sea, and I do not regret knowing you for a single moment. You are strong my son, and I know for a fact you fought your hardest to help your brother. You did not fail him. "

   Staring into his mother's eyes Morien tears up from the pure conviction and truth shining in her rainbow orbs. Shakily reaching a hand up he places it over one of hers and tilts his head into their joined hands, a soft choked chuckle rising up as he smiles at her.

"...Thomas. My name used to be Thomas. My friends called me Tommy. My best friend sometimes called me Big Man."

   Gladly returning his smile with an accepting smile of her own Clara strokes his hair with her free hand, humming softly in amusement and love. 

"Well then, Thomas- I do believe my wife, my brother in law, and our friends would quite like to meet you someday. Would you like to meet them sometime?"

   Chuckling from her words Morien nods, closing his eyes while leaning against her. Humming in amusement and content he melts as his mother kisses his forehead.

"....Yeah. I think he'd like to meet them, one day."

Chapter Text

Mawrth 8th, 2022 - Seaside Path to Amaethon

"... Mam ?"

   Turning her head to look at Morien, Clara stops walking a moment to give him her full attention. Noting his contemplative expression she gently touches his arm while giving him a small smile.

" Ie fy gigfran fach? "

   Humming in tiredness and frustration the blonde mooshroom absentmindedly plays with the hem of his cloak as he tries to formulate his next words. Looking up at his mother he gives her a weak smile, his eyes still red from crying at the hidden glow pool.

"..I know it's late but do you think.. do ya think Mum, Dad, Tad, and Hen ddyn would like to meet Tommy tonight? Talking earlier lifted a lot from me, and..a-and I want you all to know everything- the good and the bad."

    Expecting to be told to wait, or even reprimanded in some way he looks away, missing the gentle and concerned look on Clara's face. Before he can backpedal he finds a pair of black wings enveloping him, his mother pulling him into a heartwarming hug. Murmuring softly she slowly rubs his back as she holds him close, smiling into his shoulder when he hugs her back tightly.

 "If you feel ready, and you're absolutely sure, then yes. They won't mind listening, and if you decide to not go over everything tonight they'll be willing to wait till you're ready my dear. Just know we're here and we love you. Iawn ?"

    Chuckling shakily, Morien nods and reaches up to rub his eyes, pulling away from the hug to give Clara a warm smile. Reaching out a pinky to the raven the teen smiles shyly as his mother chuckles at the sweet gesture. Intertwining one of her pinkies with his, they start to walk up the path again, traveling towards the West entrance leading into Amaethon. 

   With the silver moon shining above them they walk through the silent streets, walking together in a comfortable yet hesitant silence. The moment they walk through the door of Fenris and Isengrim's home they find themselves enveloped within four different sets of arms, worried questions and fussing coming from Morien's other parents.

   Sitting through the loving onslaught for a few minutes eventually Clara gently pushes everyone off, kissing Rose on the cheek when the mooshroom starts to fuss again. Holding Rose's hand the raven smiles at everyone while pulling Morien over so they can hold pinkies again, chuckling softly at the questions everyone is still tempted to throw at her and the young blond next to her.

"We're fine, just a bit tired and hungry. I took him to the glow pool."

   Glancing at Morien's tired yet tense face she bites her cheek, gently patting Rose's arm while looking every adult present in the eyes, smiling ruefully at the growing worry in their eyes for their son and fellow parent.

"Morien would like to talk to all of us. I do believe this may warrant a cuddle pile, would you all be willing to set it up?"

  Scoffing at her audacity Rose leans down to steal a quick kiss, smiling lovingly at her wife while pulling her and Morien into a hug.

"Of course we will fy annwyl un. You both go and rest up, foods warm on the stove for ya."

  Voicing their agreement Morien's fathers each approach to hug the duo, kissing Clara's cheeks in greeting and gently ruffling the young mooshroom's hair, planting a kiss on his forehead before running off to gather supplies for the cuddle pile. 

   Huffing in amusement at the men's antic's Rose shakes her head, smiling at two of the people she treasures most in the world with clear love in her eyes. Gently knocking her and Morien's horns together with a playful smirk she laughs as he halfheartedly fusses over the loving gesture, pouting up at his Mum while trying to hide a growing smile.

   As the men gather the supplies Rose leaves her wife and son in the kitchen to rest up and eat, sprinting off to give the supposed adults upstairs hell when she hears them arguing over what blankets to grab. Chuckling over their family's antics, mother and son eat some food and head off to change into comfier clothes; Clara briefly leaves to grab some things from her and Rose's home across the street. 

   Soon enough the cuddle pile has been set up. Temporarily to make it easier to face each other Isengrim, Fenris, and Hamfast sit together on a couch, Rose sits in a chair next to the couch, and Clara sits on the blankets set up for the cuddle pile next to Morien; facing the others in an odd circle. Gently grabbing Morien's hand and squeezing it she gives the nervous blonde an encouraging and sad smile. Taking a deep breath the emotionally exhausted teen looks up at his family. His family . Fine, maybe he can actually do this.

   Smiling shakily he speaks, squeezing Clara's hand whenever he feels his nerves failing him.

"I think I'm ready to tell you who I am. Who I was. But if I have to cut myself off, are you okay with waiting?"

   Resisting the urge to jump out of his seat and comfort his son, Isengrim nods with a quiet strained smile, holding his husband and Hamfast back with a warning look when they look ready to protest. Sighing softly in reluctant agreement Rose nods as well, relaxing into her chair with a mug of apple cider to her lips.

  Taking that as his cue to continue Morien smiles,clinging tightly to Clara's hand as he starts his tale with a strained voice.

"God it feels like ages ago now. Nearly 2 years now that I think about it. But, to put it bluntly and quickly, I used to be one of the founders of a country. It was made by a group of friends, led by a man with a dream. A brother with a burning hope for a land filled with acceptance and independence. There was a few wars, I did a few dumb things, died more than once. Was banished from the nation twice, both times my best friend was present for it. The latest one he was the one who did the banishing. Was haunted by the ghost of my brother, the leader of our band of idiots, but he hardly remembered anything and eventually left me to..to be alone with him ." 

  Sighing shakily, Morien squeezes Clara's hand harder and leans against her as she pulls him into a side hug, smiling ruefully while staring at nothing. 

"I..I'd rather not talk about him much. Or what he did. Not yet. Just..if ya see some jackass in green with a white smile mask, please just fucking run. Please. " 

   Cursing softly at his own weakness the troubled blond reaches up with his free hand to wipe at his eyes, melting with a tired sigh as his mam rubs his back and murmurs soft encouragement. The others echo her words but choose to stay seated incredibly reluctantly, not wishing to overwhelm the upset mooshroom more. 

    Slowly regathering himself Morien gives his family a thankful smile. Once ready he reaches up and swipes the air, taking out a worn down chest that he hasn't touched in months. Setting it down on the floor he forces himself to open it, taking out a mildly charred and haggard looking leather jacket. Gently shaking it out he holds it up for the others to see for a moment before reaching in one of the pockets to take out a worn and slightly torn up photograph. Beckoning for the others to join him on the floor he waits till everyone's situated in the pile before giving them a closer look at the photo and the jacket. One by one he starts to point everyone in the photo out with a wistful smile, beaming with love and a deep longing that can't truly be explained with words.

"Standing proudly in the front with the beanie and the guitar is Wilbur, my older brother. The fox hybrid with the cap is his son, my nephew Fundy. The person with the dark glasses is Eret, the lass placing a flower crown on Eret's head is Niki, and the cheerful chap with the blue and red glasses and the headset laughing next to them is Jack Manifold."

   Listening close to every word he says every member of his family is completely enraptured, concerned for his mental well being of course considering everything he's told them but incredibly proud of him for fighting through it all. Glancing at the sea of blue uniforms, Rose notes the two figures off to the side that her son hasn't mentioned yet, immediately focusing on them with a curious hum. One is clearly their dear Morien of course, who could mistake those blond curls and that cheeky smile only her lad could pull off? The other on the other hand..She hasn't met a moobloom in a while, none outside Amaethon at least..

   Noticing who his Mum is focused on Morien winces, staring blankly with a strained smile as he traces the flowers in the figure's hair with his fingers.

"... That's Tubbo. Toby. My..He used ta be my best friend. Cheeky bastard under that timid exterior I promise you that. Honestly, I don't know what the hell we are now. Frenemies? Just plain old enemies? Who the hell knows.."

   Sighing tiredly he leans against his nearest parent, smiling softly as his parents cuddle up as close as he's comfortable with, patting his hair in silent support. They simply bask in each other's presence for a while, one by one starting to doze. Briefly interrupting the pleasant silence one asks if he had a past name, immediately making him answer with a sleepy smile, knowing that despite everything he's told them he's still loved.

"Tommyinnit. Friends called me Tommy or Boss Man. My ..father called me Thomas Craft. Now..Now I'm just me."

    Smiling sadly at the young man's words Fenris sighs softly and closes his eyes, murmuring softly with fake serious huff for all to hear.

"Hmmph..I'd say Morien Heulyn Thomas ap Fenris sounds rather good.."

     Scoffing at his husband's cheerful audacity Isengrim gently smacks him in the side with his eyes still closed, murmuring grumpily back.

"Are ye daft? Morien Heulyn Thomas ap Isengrim clearly sounds plenty better-! Honestly-"

     His words spark an immediate playful argument, none of them noticing Morien dozing off to the sound of their squabbling with a smile on his face. He was loved. Deities above he w as loved . ( And won't the others be absolutely horrified when they see him? How much he's changed. Self righteous pricks. ) They didn't care about his past, simply incorporated it into his present without batting an eye.

    Falling deep into a pleasant sleep he melts in the heart warming love enveloping him, a heavy weight partially lifted from his shoulders. At the back of his mind rests his questions from the glow pool, none strong enough to keep him from his comfortable slumber.

    His questions could wait till later.

Mawrth 9th, 2022, Isengrim and Fenris's Dining Room.

"You didn't explain what the fokn Deffroad Enaid is?!  Hafgan!"

   Glaring up at her baffled wife Clara lightly smacks her arm with an irritated huff, ignoring her beloved's sputtering as she reaches for her mug of coffee.

" Ffion , my lovely desert rose, I was focusing more on telling him the basics at the time. There was no point in just tossing everything at him all at once dear, that's simply too much emotionally charged information at once to handle safely, not to mention everything he told us last night. Now hush and eat your breakfast, he'll have plenty to ask us once he's awake."

"Now that's just a damn understatement mam ."

   Turning to look at the owner of the amused voice coming from the dining room doorway Clara raises a warning brow, clearly unimpressed with her son's language and knowing quite well who's helping influence it. Pulling a chair out next to her she gestures to it while sipping her coffee, smiling into her cup as the blond saunters over in a cheerful gait quite similar to a certain set of twin mooshroom's she knows incredibly well.

   Hearing the commotion Isengrim and Hamfast approach from the kitchen, carrying extra plates of food for the recently awoken teen. Exchanging cheerful greetings everyone sits down to eat, poking fun at a tired looking Fenris as he walks in as the last to wake. They eat in silence for a good while, each parent exchanging amused looks over mugs of coffee or tea when they all note their sons growing impatience. With a cheerful grin Fenris gives in and sets down his mug, gesturing for Morien to speak while he stabs his fork into some pancakes left on his plate.

"You've waited long enough laddie, what's eatin ya?"

   Smiling brightly at the clear invitation the blonde sets down his fork, his tail swinging behind his chair.

"Was there actually a war? Are the Evokers still around? What's a Deffroad Enaid ? Do any of you have Marciau Enaid ? How about-"

   Cutting the excited lad off with an amused chuckle his parents gently tease him, coaxing him into slowing down so they can answer. With a cheerful hum Isengrim clasps his hands on the table, smiling happily at Morien's willingness to learn.

"Yes, my boy there was a war. In fact after brwydr y toredig we had a few more throughout the years, though there hasn't been another in a good 30 or so. And a damn good riddance that is."

   Nodding in agreement Fenris reaches out to hold one of his husband's hands, squeezing it gently with a content hum while pouring himself more coffee.

"An understatement fy calon. The Evokers haven't been around since my grandfather and father's day though, so no need ta worry fy mab. "

   Gladly joining in on the history lesson Hamfast smiles brightly at his son, adjusting his glasses as he prepares to speak.

"Now, the Deffroad Enaid- or the Soul Awakening as it's known in Common, is a very special event in every Amaethon dwelling being's life. Every villager, be they human or hybrid, goes through this special ceremony on their 18th birthday."

    Shoving a pancake in her brother's face, Rose slams her mug on the table, interrupting her twin with a mischievous grin.

"Ignore him, he's boring. Anyhow the Deffroad Enaid happens at the glow pool Clara brought you to yesterday lad. The ceremony is incredibly important for any young being's growth, connecting you with your magical core, awakening any abilities from ancestors that your body may not have been able to handle at birth, and providing you with the chance of obtaining a Marciau Enaid ."

    Upon mentioning the Marciau Enaid Rose slams her left arm into the table in an arm wrestling stance, leaning over while rolling up her shirt sleeve. Smiling proudly she shows off an old runic mark on her shoulder, moving her arm closer despite interrupting her wife's breakfast so that Morien can touch her arm if he wants to.

" Bendigeidfran. Brân the blessed. The great king, leader, protector, and warrior. A Hero God. Y'see ladd, a Marciau Enaid is more than just some simple mark. A Marciau Enaid means you've caught the eye of one of the gods, enough so that they wish to mark you as one of their chosen. Being chosen is a big deal, many receive gifts or abilities from their Gods, some even get to meet the deity that chose them-"

     Placing a hand on her wife's arm Clara gives Morien a genuine smile, squeezing Rose's arms gently as she calmly interrupts.

   "Just remember being chosen is not a requirement though fy mab . You can be just as cunning and strong without a Marciau Enaid , having one or not does not define you. We will be just as proud of you no matter what."

    Relaxing a little from Clara's gentle reassurance, Morien gives her a placid smile while curiously reaching out to trace his finger over the markings on Rose's arm. Sensing the upcoming returning question Fenris pops upon the buttons on the wrist of the dress shirt he's wearing and rolls up the sleeve of his right arm, turning his forearm so that the blond mooshroom can examine the swirling marks humming against his skin. Smiling gently as Morien pokes at his marks the old wolf talks about them with an amused huff.

" Amaethon , funnily enough. God of Agriculture. Despite what your Dad says, I am the one who usually tends to the gardens out back in the greenhouse."

   Said rabbit hybrid sputters at the truthful accusation, blushing in embarrassment as everyone chuckles. Feeling his turn coming up Hamfast turns his head and lifts his hair to expose the back of his neck, grinning impishly over his shoulder as he hears his son's startled gasp.

"Recognize the symbol from your lessons aye? Llŷr, namesake of Llŷr's Cove , god of the seas and healing. Should've seen me mam's face when I told 'er I wanted ta own a tavern 'stead of being some fancy healer, nearly walloped me she did. Thought I was plannin on wastin my gifts. Though to be fair I never said I didn't want to do both, just wanted the tavern first."

   Noting her son's growing curiosity Clara speaks up before he can ask, gesturing to herself and Isengrim while Hamfast sets down his hair and returns to eating.

  "Isengrim and I are Bendigedig y galon- Blessed of the heart. We both never received a Marciau Enaid , but we're both still magically strong due to our own trained skills and inherited ancestry."

   Accepting their words with a contemplative look on his face Morien nods absentmindedly, his mind trained on a thousand different thoughts as he slowly starts to eat his now cold breakfast. Realizing the lad's questions have been answered for now everyone returns to their food, chatting about random things such as building plans near the farm fields or new equipment they'd seen being sold at the market. Gradually Morien resurfaces from his thoughts, joining in on conversations and gladly making plans to learn more things, the thirst for knowledge shining in his eyes bringing his parents an odd sense of pride for his strength and driven nature.

  Making a schedule together they talk it out for most of the morning, forming plans for years to come. As Morien steps out of his home of nearly 9 months to start his day nearly an hour later he smiles, a determined grin on his face as he strides towards whatever the future has in store for him.

This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

Ebrill 3rd, 2022, Amaethon 

    With the changing of the seasons, Amaethon has once again been tossed into the thrall of activity. Fishermen sell their catch at the pier, Trade ships dock and bring wonders of the world with them, and the town market is chock full of travelers from sunup to sundown. The taverns of Amaethon are constantly fighting to keep things in stock, and Sucellos's Keg is certainly no different. On this spring evening if one were to walk in they'd find a comfortable and boisterous atmosphere immediately warming their heart. Sucellos's Keg looks like any other tavern- Wooden furniture, people of various backgrounds chatting at the bar or at a table, and a steady flow of mead going round. Behind the counter sits a familiar tall Mooshroom hybrid with long curled red hair, mixing drinks and cheerfully chatting with some of the folks at the bar with a welcoming smile. Placing some tankards on a tray she hollers out towards a corner of the tavern, smiling in clear amusement.

"Morien! Brysiwch my boy, crowds gatherin!"

 "On it Ma, don't get your damn 'shrooms in a twist-"

   Slamming down his cards the blond smirks at the resounding cries of dismay from the older players gathered at the table, patting the nearest sailors shoulder as they all hand him his winnings. Standing up he stretches and flashes them all a grin before heading towards his mother, grabbing the tray on the counter while dodging a playful fist aimed at his head. Walking away Morien misses a middle aged spider hybrid gently nudging Rose's arm, staring after him with a curious look.

"What's this now- Has our dear Tarian Tragwyddol off an' settled an' had a wee bairn? What happened ta Clara?"

    Scoffing from the spider's words Rose refills their tankard, smirking at them with false disdain. 

"Oh fock off Argyll you know I married my dear Hafgan ages ago, she's the only one for me."

    Turning her head to look at Morien she leans against the counter with a content sigh, a proud smile lighting up her face. Nodding towards her son she starts to dry a tankard with a nearby cloth.

"That, old friend, is my son. Morien ."

    Laughing over something one of the travelers he's chatting with said the blond hardly notices the conversation about him. He stands tall with a brilliant confidence, his shoulders just the smallest bit broader, his eyes shining bright with a hidden mischief and playfulness. His hair reaches the small of his back in a large braid filled with flowers and small decorations from the village children, a smaller braid framing the side of his face with a single bead hanging from it (' A gift from Ze.' Rose remembers. ' Ladd hasn't taken it off since the younger hybrid weaved it into his hair.' ) A soft tan from working outdoors gives him a healthy glow, patches of freckles scattered over his skin blooming from the sunlight.

    As he mingles with the travelers he doesn't notice a rough looking man approaching from behind, not until the man calls out to him with a clearly drunken slur in his words.

"..Y.. You- Boy! Where's my damn beer? I asked fo'r one fokn ages ago..-!"

    Now giving the man his full attention Morien turns with his tray tucked under his arm and tries to remain polite despite the obvious tension in his posture, smiling pleasantly as he responds in an even tone.

"Sorry mate, one moment and I'll get that for ya-! Why don't you take a seat and I'll grab one on the house aye?"

    Before he can take a step towards the bar the man grabs his shoulder and stumbles a little, glaring up at the tense blond as if he was the root of all the man's problems. Pointing up at Morien with his finger a little too close to his face for the mooshroom's liking the man starts to dig into him more, sparking up whispers in the crowd surrounding them as more folks start to notice the possibly brewing fight.

" No-! Stupid fokn twit, if you think I'm goin ta-"

"..If you value your limbs I'd hold your rotten tongue, Ragnar."

    Appearing seemingly out of thin air, a cloaked figure grabs the man's hand that is holding Morien's shoulder, shoving him away with ease. Stumbling away from the intimidating stranger the drunk falls on his ass, his face ashen with fear as he catches the gaze of a single steely blue eye staring into his soul.

    Noticing the sudden silence below him Hamfast walks down from the upper floors of the tavern, pushing his way through the crowd circled around the trio. First noting that his son seems alright, albeit a bit shaken, he turns his attention to the last two; wrinkling his nose at the sight of the growing puddle under the downed drunk. Sighing softly he moves forward and hoists the man onto his feet, gently nudging him towards the main doors.

"Alright you poor sod that's enough of ya, out ye go. Oi one of you lads make sure he makes it home yeah? Poor bastards too drunk ta fokn stand."

    Now sure that the man won't collapse in a ditch somewhere, he turns to the stranger, silently noting the axe strapped to their back. Crossing his arms he raises a brow, squaring his shoulders as he tries to determine if they're a threat or not.

"An' you. No trouble, aye?"

    Chuckling softly from his words the stranger smiles, humming in amusement when they catch Rose approaching from the corner of their eye. Responding with a gentle tone the stranger reaches up to pull down the hood of their cloak.

"As if I'm ever the one that starts trouble, nai. "

   With that they finish pulling down their hood, smirking at the startled gasps from the mooshroom twins.

    The stranger is an older woman, standing a full head shorter than Hamfast but with a subtle air of strength that commands respect, said air further insured by the diamond axe strapped to her back and an old hand carved walking stick in her hand. Dark brown and white hair tied into twin braids rest on her shoulders, partially buried under her cloak. Dark curved horns with gold rings and decorations on their tips, black brown and white spotted cow ears, and a casually swinging cow tail behind her clearly mark her as a cattle hybrid. Vitiligo creates pale shapes and markings over her tan skin, one large mark covering her left eye making her eyelashes white. A single soft blue eye dances with kindness and subtle mischief, crow's feet wrinkles showing off more of her happy nature. Her right eye is covered by a red eye patch with old faded scars peeking out from underneath the worn fabric.

     Hearing an excited exclamation the stranger turns towards Morien, smiling lovingly at the surprised and elated look on his face. Chuckling softly she holds open her arms, laughing out right when the blond barrels into her chest with a happy cry.

"Granny Fay-!"

   The cheery mood restored in the tavern from the reunion of the small family, the crowd disperses to return to their drinks and conversations, soft music floating through the room from some corner. Eventually pulling away from the hug the older woman looks Morien over, cooing over his improved appearance. Blushing from the attention he melts under her fussing, letting her pat his hair and poke at his slightly fuller frame. 

   Shaking themselves from their shock Hamfast and Rose speak in tandem, splitting off and starting where the other ends with bright smiles on their faces.

" Anti Fayina how..-"

"-..do you know..-"

"..-our ladd..-"

" Morien-?! "

     Momentarily distracted by the twins' antics Fayina scoffs and lightly taps them both on the head with her walking stick, leaning against it with an amused huff when they whine about her being rude.

"Oi, quit it ya wee shites, you're givin me a damn headache. I know him from sailin, did he not tell you? And what do ya mean 'our ladd'?"

     Feeling the warning glare aimed at his head Morien chuckles nervously and scratches the back of his neck, sensing he may have forgotten to explain a few things in his letter. Hoping to earn back some brownie points he starts to explain, pointing to the older mooshroom twins as he speaks.

"They adopted me nain . After getting dragged out of the sea I was adopted by Hen ddyn , Mum, Mum's wife Clara who's now my Mam , Fenris ap Gwaednerth is my Tad , and Tad's husband Isengrim is my Dad. They..-"

     Before he can continue he finds himself dragged down, Fayina's fists balled up in his shirt as she pulls him into a hug. Stumbling a bit from the surprising amount of strength from one so small he just manages to hear some soft spoken words, enticing a nervous chuckle from him when he catches her clipped tone.

"We are most definitely talking about your habit of leaving things out of your letters young man, don't think I didn't catch that bit about the damn sea."

     Feeling a sense of guilt for worrying her and yet warmed by the clear care she holds for him he can't help but squeeze her with a placid grin, closing his eyes as he buries his face in her hair. 

     Regretfully interrupting the soft moment Hamfast speaks up, earning a nod and an encouraging grin from his sister when he addresses her.

" Anti Fay? Rose can bring ya to the house if you'd like, I'm gonna watch over the tavern till then. Do you want to stay here at the tavern for a bit and catch up with folks or do you want us to get you a place to stay?"

    Pulling away from the hug Fayina chuckles, leaning against her walking stick with a pleasant grin.

"My room for the night can wait nai , I want to catch up with fy teulu. Besides, I'm curious how fy ŵyr rhyfeddol found his way to my old home."

    Holding an arm out to the older woman Morien gives her an infectious smile, his cheeks rosy from her casual compliments. Walking arm in arm they move to a table close to the bar, Rose gathering some drinks while Hamfast moves behind the counter to help any customers that approach. Settling down at the table Morien sits next to Fayina with Rose across from them, sipping some mild level mead Hamfast hands him. Breaking the comfortable silence Fayina tilts her head curiously, giving Rose a small smile.

"Spit it out nith , how's life been? Morien give ya any trouble?"  Noticing the hurt look on the blond's face she clicks her tongue and playfully nudges his arm. "Oh stop it Pumpkin you know I'm just teasin ya." 

     Rolling her eyes at her son's pouting face, Rose chuckles, lounging in her chair and sipping from a tankard before giving any response.

"Just fine Anti, been a damn blessin every day since Llŷr gifted us our laddie. Crops have been plentiful, markets chock full of folks, business is boomin. And you? What've you been up to, Ham an' I thought you'd settled down South in Caernarfon?"

     Nodding to herself with a satisfied look on her face the older woman brings out a carved pipe, relaxing in her chair as she prepares it. Taking a small puff from it she blows the smoke out in a ring, chuckling at Morien's curious look.

"Not till you're a bit older, hon."

     Closing her eyes with a small sigh she finally answers Rose, a tired wistful look on her face.

"Aye. I was settled, for a time. But after my husband passed I found that my heart was still callin for the sea- started sailin again, always in a fleet of other trade ships don't worry dear. After receiving Morien and his friend's letters I figured it was time ta visit home, at least for a short while. Besides, it's not every day your grandson turns 17! Or shall I be calling him grandnephew now?

     Giving the old woman a cheeky smirk Morien leans against the table, lightly slamming his tankard down.

"Doesn't matter ta me! You're old, so you'll always be my Granny! Ack-"

       When did she get her walking stick over here-!?

  Nursing a fancy new lump on his head Morien rests his face on the table, grumbling and cursing the old woman out while rubbing his head. Sighing in defeat Rose shakes her head with a chuckle and stands up, gently guiding her son onto his feet. Kissing the bump she gives him a tender smile, gently patting his arm.

"Why don't we head home, get your Anti situated aye? I've got some pie waitin for ya in the kitchen."

   Grumbling under his breath Morien picks up a small bag Fayina brought in with her, giving his grandmother a halfhearted stink eye when she smiles at him. Holding his arm out he gives her an expectant look, trying to act aloof over her smacking him despite knowing full well calling her old probably wasn't a good call on his part. Chuckling over his grumpiness Fayina stands and accepts his offered arm, kissing his cheek and gently patting his hand.

"Thank you Pumpkin. I'll admit ta feelin a bit tired, where are we headin?"

   Huffing in mild annoyance Morien gives her a small winsome smile as he leads her out the door of the tavern, Rose not far behind them. Pointing towards the main road he explains, his finger pointed in the general direction of a house in the distance. 

"You'll be staying with mam and Mum, I live with my tad and Dad in the house across the street. It also doubles as the medhall 'cause Dad is Amaethons head healer. How's the crew? Stan still owes me a diamond, the bastard. Do you think if I-"

" OI! Slow down ŵyr -"

"But nain- "

  As the two start to playfully squabble Rose rolls her eyes with a genuine smile, silently musing over how her life has shifted so quickly in such a short amount of time. With her hands in her pockets she trails behind them with an amused hum, completely lost in thought.

This. This is something worth more than life itself.

I would give up anything to keep this.

______________________________

    One short trip later and they soon find themselves walking through the door of Rose and Clara's home. As Morien moves to carry Fayina's things to a spare room Rose gently guides the older woman towards a set of doors leading to an outdoor patio, calling out to her son with a soft smile. 

   "The pies on the counter lad, go at it. I need ta talk to your Gran for a moment, alright?"

    Staring for a moment he eventually gives her a nod and a small smile, curiosity burning in his eyes. Quickly dumping off the luggage the cheery blond runs to the kitchen and prepares the pie waiting for him, humming happily as he takes his first bite. Wandering back towards the center of the house he lounges on a plush chair in the living room. Raising his fork up to take another bite he pauses when the sound of raised voices float in through a nearby window. Hesitating for a moment he eventually shrugs and moves a bit closer to the window to listen in better, sitting down on a cabinet.

  Fuck it. I'm sure it won't hurt anything, they're probably talking about houses or some shite anyways.

    Taking a bite of his pie the sneaky blond leans a bit closer to hear the conversation better, flinching slightly as one of the speakers raises their voice.

"-ight damn fool you are, thinking I'll go anywhere near him . Have you lost your fucking mind-!?"

" Anti,Tawel i lawr! Do you want the whole town to hear you-?"

"To hell with this damnable town-! Gossip Mongers and cheats, all of them. Why you stay here I'll never understand."

"You know quite well why I stay, Fayina verch Nerys. Or have you forgotten your duty to-"

  The sound of wood hitting wood echoes like a thunderclap, chilling Morien's blood with the tense silence.

" My heart and supposed duty for this cesspool died the moment I was lied to and told he was dead. "

  There's a tired beat of silence before Rose responds with a gentle defeated tone.

"I won't lie and say I understand why Fenris's father lied about Hadden's death, but that does not mean you blame the man for his father's mistake. Amaethon has changed for the better since he took over. Why can't you see that?"

"...Does the mutt at least treat Morien well?"

"As if he had a hand in forging him with Lord Gofannon's forge himself."

"Ach..Fine. I will meet the Gaffer, if only to get your nagging ass off my hide."

"A sailor to the end with that mouth of yours, aye?"

"Oh sod off, you're no better ya wee bastard-"

   As the conversation bends towards calmer waters Morien stares off in troubled thought, his pie long forgotten. Filing all this new information away he stands with a determined glint in his eyes, setting his plate in the kitchen before running to the door of the patio. Gently knocking on the door to let them know he's entering he peeks his head in with a small impish smile.

"Hey Mum, can I go to the pier? Baldur promised to bring me a bauble from one of his distant trade routes and I want ta see if he's back yet."

   Smiling brightly at the sight of her son's smiling face, Rose doesn't have the heart to deny him, approaching him to steal a quick hug before sending him on his way.

" 'Course ye can fy llo bach, just make sure ta get home to your da's by nightfall aye?"

   Quickly agreeing he rushes off before she can change her mind, sprinting through the house and out the door. His tail whipping behind him in the wind he runs like hounds are nipping at his heels, dodging carts and pedestrians with a nimbleness only obtained through experience. Soon enough he's through the west gate and only a short distance from the pier. With a sharp turn from the expected course he moves towards a familiar cabin near the pier's main road, nearly crashing into the door in his haste.

    Panting softly from his speedy trip he knocks on the door, giving the cabin's lone inhabitant zero warning before barging inside and slamming the door closed behind him. Pointing an accusatory finger at the startled man in front of him Morien belts out his words with a sharp angry tone, conflicting emotions shining in his crazed eyes.

"What the fuck is this shit story I'm hearing! I'm no damn fool Captain , what's this about you supposedly being dead aye? What gives? I wasn't saved by some sort of fucking ghost, now was I?"

   Slowly catching onto the blond teen's rushed words Hadden runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair with a tired sigh, pointing towards the armchairs seated in front of his fireplace. Walking towards the open kitchen nearby he calls over his shoulder with clear tension in his voice.

"Sit down lad, give me time ta think of how ta explain. And cool down a bit aye? You're gonna bust a vessel."

   Unsatisfied with the Captain's answer but knowing he won't be given a true response until he's calmer he walks to the armchairs and plops down with an upset huff. Crossing his arms he swings his legs so they're hanging over the arm of the chair, gladly accepting a cup from the older man with a soft thank you.

   Once settled Hadden sips his drink, giving in when he sees how tense Morien still is underneath his calmed facade. Scratching his beard he gives the teen a serious calculated look.

"How much do you know, and how did you find out?"

   Staring up at the ceiling Morien rests his cup on his stomach, his ears flicking with irritation and slight shame.

"...Heard mum talking to Granny Fay. They said something about Tad's father lying about your death, that's why Gran hasn't returned to Amaethon till I told her I was here."

   Sighing softly at the mooshroom's sheepish admission the old Captain rubs his eyes, grumbling under his breath about fiery tempered curious blonds. Relaxing in his chair he rests his drink on his knee, starting his tale with an air of regret and wistfulness.

  "Something you need to understand lad, is that Amaethon wasn't always the peaceful place it is today. Peace hadn't been a thing around here till around some 30 odd years ago when your father Fenris took over in his father's stead. Even now there's the occasional hiccup- a corrupt merchant here, a racist bigot there. Some of the elders keep hummin an' hawwin about the supposed 'Good ol days' of old Gwaednerth's reign. The days of constant battle and fight for survival. Only reason the land looks so good now is because we have some folks blessed by Olwen and Amaethon tending the fields and forests."

    Taking a moment to sip his drink, he stares into the flames of the fireplace with a distant look in his eyes.

"Gwaednerth, in his own way, was a good man. A man of war and bloodshed, but with true purpose- all he fought for was to keep Amaethon and his family safe. He was seen as cold hearted by most, unless either his wife or his son were present, then one could say his smile was quite like the shining sun. We grew up together, and in our younger years we fought side by side to protect our home.

  Twas many years ago lad, but not long before Hamfast and Rose were born I retired to work on the ships, where I met Fayina and another axolotl like myself named Emyr. We quickly became inseparable, but when Gwaednerth soon called on me to help in one final battle neither understood my devotion. 'Why?' they asked me. 'Why do you fight for such a madman? He is the Bloodletter, bwystfil di-galon. '

  I could only respond with the truth, engraved deep within my heart. 'He is my leader, my brother, my Teulu trwy gariad nid gwaed. Where he goes I will always follow.'

   We fought for hours, and in the early hours of the morning I left, leaving behind a letter for Fayina confessing my love for her and regret for leaving."

  Flinching from a deep phantom pain Hadden reaches up to rub his chest, a hard haunted look settled in his apple blossom pink eyes.

"The battle was a bust. We were fed false information, completely outnumbered in a foreign land. Those who died were never brought home, and those who survived were never the same. I nearly died watching Gwaednerth's back, and took a spear to the chest for him. The healers put me into a medically induced coma, and when I finally woke I was informed by Gwaednerth that the love of my life had left Amaethon with Emyr to start a new life; both believing me to be dead. Gwaednerth had told her I was indisposed, and in an act of misplaced protectiveness had told her I would soon leave this world to join the halls of our ancestors. Deciding to give her a chance at happiness, I never told her any different and let her be." 

   Turning his head to look at the young mooshroom seated across from him the captain can't help but smile sadly at the dejected and lost look in the blond's eyes. Setting his drink down on a nearby table he clasps his hands while giving Morien a strained but reassuring smile.

"What's that look for laddie?"

   Sitting up from his lax position Morien sets his cup down on the table between him and Hadden, flexing his hands as he tries to reign in his flaring temper. Looking up into the Captain's eyes he lets some of his walls fall, eyes shimmering with anguish at the thought of two of the people he treasures most hurting for so long.

"Why- Why the hell would you do that to yourself? To her? She still loves you, and how that is I have no fucking idea!"

    Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, Hadden let's the teens words dig under his skin, piling the truth on top of the guilt he already feels.

"It's not that simple , Morien- You wouldn't understand, I couldn't just take what happiness she had left-"

"And you honestly think she was happy with you gone-?! She thought you were dead, do you have any idea how crushing that is-? She hardly had a heart left to live with let alone love-"

" AND YOU THINK I DID-?! I BECAME NOTHING, SHE TOOK ALL THE HEART IN ME WITH HER WHEN SHE LEFT-! "

  Towering above the shocked looking mooshroom Hadden is startled to find that during his rant he had stood up. Immediately rushing to apologize he slumps down onto his knees, giving Morien a guilty and pleading look, his hands facing palm up resting in his lap as he stumbles over his apology.

"I..I'm sorry lad. I shouldn't have blown up on you like that, you don't deserve any of it-"

   Before he can continue he's suddenly cut off by a strong embrace, the younger hybrid holding him close with a watery chuckle. Hesitantly reaching up he hugs him back, closing his eyes with a soft sigh. Tears build up in his eyes against his will as Morien murmurs quietly to him.

"I can listen to more of your bullshit excuses in a bit, just shut the fuck up and hug me taid ."

   Chuckling softly from his self-declared ŵyr's words Hadden holds him a little closer, mumbling softly against the fiery blond's shoulder.

"Just as strong willed and fiery as your nain, aye laddie?" 

   Huffing in indignation Morien pulls away from the hug and sits back, resting back against the closest chair. Giving the older man a serious look he instinctively points as he speaks, squinting his eyes in an attempt to be intimidating.

"None of that right now. I need you to promise me something- count it as my birthday present or some shit, I don't care how you sell it to yourself. I want you to talk to her at least once. At least once. You can do it on my birthday, she'll probably tone down her temper so she doesn't upset the party, it's the perfect time to do it. Agreed?"

   Standing up he stretches before sticking his hand out with a raised brow, giving the captain a casual yet imploring look. Glancing between his grandson's offered hand and the lad's face he considers his options for a moment before sighing softly in amused defeat, accepting the hand and pulling himself up with a huff. Shaking Morien's hand once he pulls away, giving him a placid grin.

"Agreed. Will you be off then, or would you like to stick around a mite longer?"

   Smiling enthusiastically from this small victory Morien shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck.

"Nah. Sorry Cap, need ta get home before ma kills me- said ta be home before nightfall. Thanks though."

    Making his way to the door he gives his grandfather figure one last smile before walking out, waving at him as he leaves.

    The moment the door closes Hadden runs his hands through his hair with a tired sigh, walking towards a scratched up desk covered in dozens of papers and books. Plopping down on the rough but comfy looking chair he shoves some papers away, grabbing a blank sheet and a quill with a determined shine in his once defeated eyes.

It's about damn time he gets his life together.

Chapter Text

Ebrill 9th, 2022

"To your left! No no, your left! Oh Gofannon's Blazing Bollocks- Not my left, your left! Have none of you sods moved a table before-?!"

  Chaos. That's all that can be said about the current situation.

    With unexpected storms interrupting preparations days before, setting up for Morien's birthday celebration had turned into a time-crunched frenzy. Despite the stress folks still managed to have a good time, though the amount of apologies Morien had been hastily given had grated on his nerves a bit.

    Tables lined the town square, food was slowly being piled upon them, and travelers of all sorts were wandering in believing the festivities to be some sort of festival. Upon seeing Morien approach from one of the town's many roads the crowd call out their greetings, many a lass and lad gossiping over the teen's appearance.

      Dressed proudly in a soft white dress shirt, a honey colored waistcoat, and soft brown dress pants stood Morien; cheerful blue eyes sparkling under a ring of flowers resting in a crown on his golden head. Dozens of flowers and beads were weaved into his braided hair by the village children for the celebrations, Ze's small braid and bead proudly framing his smiling face. Bells and decorations hang from his horns, an early present from Rae since his horns have finally grown large enough to decorate. Pins of all shapes, colors and sizes decorate the left breast of his waistcoat, signifying his recently obtained Journeyman status in several of his apprenticeship careers. 

      As the celebration slowly starts up Morien moves to greet some party goers at a nearby table, grimacing as the thickening crowds make it difficult to walk. Accidentally bumping into a stranger he catches them before they can stumble, immediately apologizing with a sheepish smile.

"Do not worry, mab Morrigan, it is alright. You are the cause of celebration, no?"

      Glancing at the stranger's mysterious cloaked form with thinly veiled hesitance and growing alarm, Morien gives them a slow nod and a reluctant smile; silently noting the name they called him and deciding to ask someone what it means later.

"Aye. Join the festivities if you'd like, there's plenty ta go 'round."

   Chuckling almost sardonically, the stranger reaches into a hidden place within their cloak, immediately putting the blond in front of them on edge. Lifting the small parcel they hold out their fist, opening it to reveal a wolf carved from dark oak.

"For you, little wolf. Crafted by my own hand."

  Glancing at the stranger in awe and slight suspicion, Morien reaches out and gently plucks the figurine from the stranger's hand, giving them a bright smile to express his thanks. 

"Thanks mate! This is incredible craftsmanship, did ye truly make it?"

   Humming in amusement and appreciation of the compliments they're being given the stranger adjusts the pack on their back and nods.

"Aye ladd, that I did. Now off ye go, today's a day for celebrating is it not? Don't want to keep the crowd waiting."

  They turn to leave, but before they can go too far they're stopped by Morien's voice calling out to them.

"Wait! Can I atleast know your name? I can't just call you 'Wooden Wolf Guy'!"

   They stand still for a moment, seeming to ponder his question as they face away from him. Eventually coming to some sort of decision they start to walk again, calling over their shoulder.

"Call me Cadfael, little wolf. And enjoy your birthday."

    All he can do is stare as the stranger leaves, clutching the wooden wolf in his hand with a troubled look in his eyes.

  What a weird guy..

"Morien! C'mere a moment lad-"

    Knocked from his thoughts by the call of his name Morien turns his head, smiling brightly at the sight of Clara and Isengrim sitting at a table. Absentmindedly stuffing the wolf figurine into his pocket he sprints over to them and sits down, stealing Isengrims mug with a cheeky grin. Chuckling over their son's antics they give him a hug and a greeting, Isengrim stealing his mug back after letting the cheerful blond steal a sip from it.

    Clasping her hands on the table Clara gives Morien a gentle smile, casually stretching her wings out behind her before tucking them against her back.

"Enjoying yourself fy gigfran fach? "

     Nodding with an enthusiastic grin lighting up his face the young mooshroom grabs a plate of fruit and bread from a passing cart, thanking the owner while tossing them some coin. 

" 'Course I am mam , this is fokn amazing!"

    Chuckling at his son's enthusiasm Isengrim sips from his mug, ruffling Morien's hair and humming in amusement as the blond curses at him. Setting his drink down he rests his head on his hand.

"Good. It's your big day laddie, I'd be worried if you weren't happy."

    Humming in agreement Clara nods, stealing some of the fruit from Morien's plate as she speaks up.

"Unfortunately though we didn't catch your attention just to chat fy mab. You remember your lessons on the Deffroad Enaid ceremony, ie? "

   Munching on some bread Morien nods, talking with his mouth full much to his parents' mild disgust.

"Yep. I have to wait a year, don't I?"

   Sighing softly with a faint smile Clara grabs a nearby cloth and hands it to her son, chuckling softly as he blushes and wipes his face.

"Normally yes, you would have to wait. But due to a certain array of pins on your shirt, you may have a special choice to make."

"What Clara is getting at, lad-" Cuts in Isengrim, noticing Morien's perplexed look. "Is that because you've accomplished Journeyman status in more than 2 apprenticeships before your coming of age, you've proven that you have reached the levels of patience, honor, and maturity needed for the ceremony."

    Food long forgotten all Morien can do is stare, glancing between his parents smiling faces as he slowly processes what he's been told. The moment it finally clicks he pushes himself up onto his feet, slamming his hands into the table as he leans in, eyes shining with awe and slight fear as he whisper shouts in complete bafflement.

" You're fucking joking- are you fucking serious?? "

     Grabbing one of Morien's hands, Clara squeezes it with a reassuring smile as Isengrim stands and gently forces Morien to sit back down. 

"Completely serious. If you would like, you can go through with the ceremony- It's entirely up to you. No matter what you choose, we will always be proud of you and support you, alright?"

      Clinging tightly to his mother's hand Morien gives her a slow nod, a dazed look on his face as he considers his options. 

"Do you think I'm really ready?"

"If we didn't think you were capable and ready, we wouldn't have mentioned it pup."

      Standing behind their table in his usual arrangement of blue and black dress clothes is Fenris with a soft affectionate smile lighting up his normally stoic features, Rose and Hamfast standing on either side of him with similar looks on their faces. Approaching the table with a slow casual gate he holds one of his hands out to his son.

"What do you think lad? Ready for a new adventure?"

      Moving quickly onto his feet all Morien can do is stare with tears building in his eyes, a bright yet baffled smile on his face.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit this is real. They actually-

    Without a second thought Morien takes his father's hand, shaking it sharply once in agreement before pulling him forward into a tight hug, chuckling as his other parents approach and turn it into a massive group hug. They simply bask in the comfort and elation of each other's presence for a moment.

    Eventually pulling away they each pat Morien's hair or kiss his cheek, giving him proud smiles. Gently leading him back to the table Fenris walks up onto it, bringing his son with him with a bright happy smile. Seeing their Gaffer standing tall above them with the subject of the current celebrations standing next to him the crowd slowly settles, smiling and occasionally raising their glasses in cheers towards the birthday boy.

    "Amaethon!" Clasping his hands with a broad smile Fenris addresses the crowd. "Today is a day of true celebration. Today, is my son's 17th birthday!" 

    Momentarily interrupted by the townspeople's cheering, Fenris chuckles, waving his hands in an attempt to get everyone to settle down. 

"Yes- As all of you know, almost a year ago now we were blessed by Lord Llŷr , whom brought to us a ladd we've all come to love and appreciate with all our hearts. Together we have watched him learn, watched him grow, watched him thrive. That is why I am proud to announce as not only his friend and Gaffer, but as his father-" Turning towards Clara he smiles warmly as she passes him something out of sight. Squaring his shoulders Fenris holds the item up for the crowd to see, tears of joy and pride springing to his eyes as the crowd starts to excitedly chatter at the sight of the familiar item in his hands. Reaching out he grasps one of Morien's hands and squeezes it while giving him a reassuring smile, stunning the blond with the sight of tears rolling down the old wolf's cheeks. Clinging tighter to his father's hand Morien releases some happy tears of his own, smiling brightly as Fenris calls out for all to hear.

"As his ancestors and peers have done before him, tonight Morien shall invoke the Deffroad Enaid-! "

    Pulling his arm with the item back down he reveals it to Morien, immediately sparking the blond's interest. Finely carved beads made of a white and subtle good marbled material, smooth and around the size of ones pinky finger nail, form a necklace. At the center of the necklace a small gold bead separates the beads to make space for a blank semi thick pendant made of the same material as the beads. Lifting the necklace Fenris gives Morien an encouraging smile, murmuring softly only for the young man to hear.

    "Once this necklace is on you, there's no going back my boy. The ceremony will start later tonight. Your other parents and I will be here to help prepare you, but once it starts you will be on your own. Are you absolutely sure you're ready?"

      Giving his father a determined look Morien bows his head while temporarily shifting into his more human form in order to have his horns out of the way, making his answer abundantly clear. Pride for his son swelling in his heart Fenris lifts the necklace higher, his ears ringing with cheers from the surrounding crowd as he places the necklace around Morien's neck. As Morien changes back Fenris pulls him into a hug, murmuring softly, the brightest grin possible lighting up his face.

" Rwyf mor falch ohonoch chi fy mab. "

      Squeezing the older hybrid tightly Morien buries his face in the man's shoulder with a wet chuckle, muttering back with a happy hum.

" Diolch am bopeth. Diolch am gredu ynof- "

     Chuckling softly Fenris pulls away from the hug, holding Morien's shoulders with a genuine smile. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, he's abruptly cut off by both him and Morien being pulled off of the table. Flailing a bit they find themselves wrapped up in a tight group hug, Morien's other parents and some family friends holding them close while chattering off congratulations and praise. As he's pulled away to rejoin the celebrations all Morien can do is smile, his nervousness and fear for how the ceremony will turn out momentarily pushed to the back of his mind.

_________________________________________

   "He's really something, isn't he?"

   Tucked in a quiet corner a comfortable distance away from the other party goers, sitting on the balcony of a closed shop that offered the spot to her sits Fayina, watching the party while smoking from an old looking wooden pipe. Cautiously approaching her from the stairs of the balcony is a familiar dark haired axolotl, his usual Captain's cap tucked under his arm and replaced with dozens of flowers in spirit of the current celebrations. He stops a comfortable distance away, and without sparring him a single glance Fayina takes a deep draw from her pipe, her eyes scanning the crowds for something unknown. 

   Blowing out a rolling cloud of smoke her ears flick with mild irritation, her cold features softening when her eyes catch Morien playing with some of the village children at the center of the party. Sighing quietly as she thinks over the many things that could have been instead of the peaceful image before her, she closes her eyes as she finally responds.

"That he is. And from what I've been told, you are the reason he is still here. For that I suppose I'll thank you Hadden." 

    Hiding a flinch from her frank tone he turns around and leans against the rail of the balcony, looking out over the emptier end of town and out towards the sea. Murmuring softly he clasps his hands, spinning a ring on his finger absentmindedly.

"No thanks are truly needed. Lads like a grandson to me, I'd do anything for him. My only regret is I couldn't spare him from those scars on his skin."

     Opening her eyes, Fayina finally takes a look at Hadden despite her inner wishes to ignore the man. Immediately she finds herself taken by the sight of him- the light of the moon and the glow of the nearby lanterns making him glow before her. The strokes of time had not left him unchanged, that is true, she notes as she finds herself counting every new scar and wrinkle. Despite the white hair mixed in with his dark locks she still sees the echoes of a younger man from long ago, laughter and teasing remarks echoing in her ears amidst the crashing of waves and the calls of their old crew. Forcing herself to look away she squares her jaw, her words forceful and cold.

"What do yeh want from me Hadden."

     Bowing his head Hadden closes his eyes, turning his face away out of her view so she can't see him warring with his emotions. Murmuring quietly his words sit between them like a bright flare, his emotions and true thoughts bleeding through despite his attempts to hide them.

"Nothing. Nothing but to talk." I missed you. I missed your voice.

      Sighing sharply through her nose Fayina folds an arm around herself, resting the other on it so she can puff from her pipe more. Gesturing her pipe hand at him in a go ahead motion she decides to give him this one boon, too tired to care anymore and unwilling to ruin the happy atmosphere on her grandson's big day.

      Momentarily stunned by the chance he's been given he accidentally snorts, chuckling nervously when he's given a glare. Running a hand through his hair he stutters an answer out between escaped giggles, the sudden flood of relief and nervousness making it impossible to keep his composure.

"I'm- I'm sorry it's.. To be entirely honest, I never thought I'd make it this far. Would you believe me if I said I have absolutely no idea what to say?"

     Giving him a surprised look she sighs and rolls her eyes, letting some chuckles of her own escape. Shaking her head she clicks her tongue while grabbing a nearby tankard, slamming it down on the railing and pushing it towards the chuckling man next to her. Grabbing a tankard of her own she moves to drink from it, murmuring just before she sips from it.

"You never were good with your words. Not unless you had an hour to think of something to say, and even then your response would always be cryptic as fock you old codger."

     Snorting at her words Hadden accepts the offered tankard and drinks from it, sighing in content as the tension leaves him. Turning so his back rests against the railing Hadden watches the party, pondering for a moment before murmuring hesitantly.

"I know this may be stretching my luck too far but..perhaps we could have a new start? As friends, at least for Morien's sake."

      Silence stretches between them for a moment as Fayina considers her options, her brow furrowed from a flurry of indescribable emotions. Catching sight of Morien mingling happily in the crowd again seals her decision before she can try to debate with herself any further. Setting down her tankard she turns to face Hadden with a hand outstretched, her face impassive as ever.

"Fayina verch Nerys of Caernarfon, at your service."

     Hardly hesitating at all, Hadden takes her hand with a gentle smile, shaking her hand once before holding her hand with both hands and giving a partial bow.

" Seiriol ap Sulien o Amaethon, yn eich gwasanaeth ."

   Chuckling softly from his seriousness Fayina will never admit that she's touched that he still trusts her with his name. Tugging him up by his hands she pulls him into a hug, murmuring into his shoulder with a false gruffness.

"We still have much to talk about. I don't forgive you yet, but for Morien I'm willing to try. Don't waste this chance ."   

    Still a bit startled by her hugging him, Hadden simply holds her for a moment, tucking her head under his chin with a sort of happy hum no one has heard from him in years. Eventually he answers, his voice almost reverent and awed as he speaks.

"Trust me, I don't plan on being so foolish ever again fy anwylyd. "

__________________________________________

"Morien!"

    Tearing his attention away from some sailors he'd been chatting with, Morien turns as his name's called out and smiles at the sight of Clara standing not far behind him. Approaching her after a quick farewell to the sailors he pulls her into a tight hug, butterflies born of nervousness rising up in him as he assumes why she's calling for him. Noticing her son's nerves Clara holds him close and strokes his hair, murmuring into his shoulder with a reassuring coo.

"Everything will be fine fy mab , no matter if you're Blessed or not we're all still proud of you. Now come along-" She pulls away from the hug, holding his shoulders while giving him a loving smile. "Let's get you ready aye-?"

    Nodding quickly Morien smiles brightly at her reassurance, some of his confidence returning with every word and smile. "What do we need ta do mam ?"

   Gesturing for Morien to follow her, she leads him off towards her and Rose's house, waving at partygoers that notice their departure. Holding a pinky out towards her son she smiles as he links one of his with it, speaking softly as she leads him down the road.

"First you need to take a bath with some special oils, we have a traditional outfit ready for you once you're done. Once you're dressed, meet me near the fireplace, we'll get your hair tidied up."

    Listening intently Morien burns her words into his memory, furrowing his brow when he notices no mention of his other parents. "What about Ma, Tad , Dad, and Hen ddyn? Where are they?"

"They're preparing everything in the cove. They'll come home by the time you're ready dear don't worry-"

   Opening the door of her home she ushers the fidgety blond towards the stairs, getting him to head up for his bath as she hears off to gather supplies for his hair.

    Sighing softly Morien smiles in amusement from his position on the stairs as he watches his mother rush off muttering to herself. Walking the rest of the way up the stairs he wanders off to the bathroom, humming in appreciation and surprise at the faint smell of lavender coming from the full tub. 

_______

    Humming a random tune as he adjusts his clothes, Morien stands with a placid smile gracing his face as he looks himself over in a full body mirror hanging on the bathroom wall.

   A soft light blue fusion between a poet shirt and a tunic with laces tied on the neck rests comfortably on his broad frame, dark brown pants with carved wooden buttons matching with it nicely. The necklace he was given by Fenris is around his neck and his hair hangs down in golden waves, still slightly damp from his bath. Taking a few more moments to fuss over his clothes Morien eventually takes a steadying breath and makes his way downstairs. Walking to the living room he flashes Clara a happy yet nervous smile as he walks towards her, sitting across from her in front of the fireplace.

    As he moves to ask what's next they hear the front door slam open, familiar voices floating in from outside. Marching into the living room Hamfast sets down a covered basket, gasping happily at the sight of his son before walking over and pulling the nervous blonde out of his chair. Hugging his son tightly Hamfast babbles away, tears springing to his eyes as he pulls away and holds Morien's shoulders with a bright happy smile. 

"Deities above lad, look at ye! You've off an' grown up on us. How are ya? Are yeh nervous?"

"Do you even need to ask? From what I remember, you nearly pissed yourself on your ceremony day. Ma had ta give you a glass of wine to help you settle down." 

    Making her presence known Rose throws an arm around her brother's shoulders, ruffling his hair with her free hand and smirking when he curses her out. Turning her attention towards Morien she gives him a cheerful grin and pulls him into a quick hug, rubbing his back as she squeezes him.

"Everything will turn out fine Enaid bach, don't ya worry none. Just sit down and relax a bit aye? We'll get yeh sorted."

    Gently pushing him down she makes him sit on a plush foot rest that is sitting near Clara's chair, maneuvering him till he's facing away from everyone. Accepting a brush from Hamfast she gently taps on her son's shoulder and passes it to him, giving him a reassuring smile when he looks over his shoulder at her in confusion.

"For your tail lad. Switch over so ye can brush it aye? That's all yeh need ta take care of right now, we'll get everything else for yeh."

    Seeing the logic in that Morien nods, softly thanking her as he shifts to his hybrid form. Taking his tail into his hands he starts to groom it, smiling softly as he feels one of his parents start to mess with his horns.

   Losing himself in the steady rhythm of brushing his tail he doesn't notice his other fathers joining his other parents, blinking in confusion when he feels his hair being moved. Glancing back he smiles at the sight of his parents working together to brush his long hair, his breath leaving him when they start to hum and sing together.

" Edelweiss for Daring Courage and Noble Purity.

Irises and Alliums show your heart for all to see."

    With each lyric Morien's parents weave the flowers they mention into the hair near his horns, connecting two small braids into one creating a base for the flowers to rest in a lovely ring.

" Pimpernel, Tiger Lilies, a past far behind.

Forget-me-nots, consistent thoughts, your happiness on our minds. 

A promise true, from us to you, sealed with each an' every bloom.

An' though time may pass, our love shall last, in this life till beyond the tomb. "

    Their song and preparations done they gently pull their son onto his feet, each parent kissing both his cheeks before hugging him tightly. Being the last to hug him Hamfast takes Morien's hand in his, giving his son a proud and patient smile when he's given a questioning look. Tugging him outside Hamfast starts to explain, Morien's other parents following them outside to stand in the street.

"Tradition dictates that the first parent a child sees when they're born later on leads them to their Deffroad Enaid once they're of age. Technically that would be me, since I was the first person you saw when you first woke here in Amaethon, but due to our special circumstances-" 

    Taking Morien's other hand Clara gives him an affectionate smile, finishing Hamfast's sentence with a gentle reassuring voice.

"We will lead you forward, together. "

   With that Fenris, Isengrim, and Rose approach the trio; taking eachothers hands until the family is standing together in a line. Unable to stop his tears from falling, Morien chuckles, murmuring softly in a choked whisper as he smiles at his parents.

" Rwy'n dy garu di. Rwy'n caru chi i gyd gymaint. "

   Leaning over her wife's shorter form Rose knocks her horns against Morien's, murmuring back to him with joyous tears brimming in gentle green eyes.

" Rydyn ni'n dy garu di mwy, fy mab. Rydych chi'n golygu popeth i ni. "

    Nudging her boisterous spouse Clara chuckles, agreeing but wishing to delay the ceremony no further. Gently tugging forward she forces everyone to start the short journey to Llŷr's Cove . As they walk through the silent streets of Amaethon, slowly but surely a trail of lights appear as they march forward, citizens lighting candles in their windows to form an artificial sea of stars to guide them.

    Silently yet comfortably they walk together out of town. As they approach the cove they let go of each other and come to a stop in front of the main tunnel entrance, immediately striking fear and nervousness into Morien's heart when he notices his parents are standing far from the doorway. Noticing the fear in his son's eyes, Isengrim gives him a reassuring smile and explains while grabbing Fenris's hand.

"From here on out we can no longer walk with you, I'm sorry fy mwni bach . You remember the room Clara showed you, yes? Once you walk through the tunnels and through that door, the ceremony will officially begin. You'll feel strange, things may be scary, but you will be safe, I promise you."

   Giving his son a loving smile Fenris joins in, squeezing Isengrim's hand as he speaks.

"Just follow your heart pup. It won't lead yeh wrong." 

    With loving words of encouragement pushing him onwards Morien gives his family one final bright smile before turning and walking into the tunnel.

    The moment he walks into the tunnel he's hit with a suspenseful and energy charged silence. Each step echoes against the tunnel walls, and as he makes his way deeper into the earth he can't stop himself from touching the nearest wall to guide him as the tunnel darkens. Within seconds of contact he's hit with a sharp shock of something indescribable, his breath shuddering in his lungs from the pure overwhelming force caressing his senses. 

    Steps turn to jogging, jogging turns to running, and soon enough Morien finds himself blindly sprinting from tunnel to tunnel, following nothing but the beat of his heart and the energy singing against his skin. His vision blurs as he slams into the ornate doors of the glow cavern, panting heavily as he falls on his knees in the now open doorway. Hugging himself all he can do is close his eyes and breath, all of his senses screaming different commands and warnings in his mind as the build up of energy thickens in the room. A frightened keen building in his throat he nearly keels over, only to tense as the air shifts with a new presence.

    Hesitantly opening his eyes Morien gasps softly in surprise, tears building in his eyes as he stares in awe. Glowing strands of translucent light flow around the room, making the crystals and gems scattered around the cavern glow with an intense inner light. Standing up on shaky legs Morien walks forward in an awed daze, never noticing the doors closing behind him. As he nears the glow pool at the center of the room the new presence caresses his senses and calms him, almost luring him towards the pool beckoning him forward. Stopping himself for a moment he takes his time watching the water, his tail flicking behind him as he becomes lost in thought. Slowly stepping forward he makes his way into the water and adjusts till he's floating on his back, humming happily from the comfortable temperature of the water. Looking up he admires the ceiling, glowing water occasionally dripping from the gems above onto his forehead.

   Blinking slowly the steady rhythm luls him until his mind starts to turn fuzzy, his final thoughts wondering about the presence with him before he loses any semblance of consciousness.

___________________________________

" Rwy'n gweld. Rydyn ni'n cwrdd o'r diwedd, rhyfelwr bach. "

   Gasping sharply in surprise Morien snaps his eyes open, looking around frantically as he tries to remember where he is and who is with him. Glancing around he notes the fact he's standing in a sitting room situated next to an old fashioned looking workshop, the comfortable purr of the flames in a forge helping him settle down. Examining his surroundings intently he doesn't notice the other person in the room until they set a tool down on a workbench they're working at, their back facing him as they fiddle with some unknown project. Studying them as closely as he can Morien can only note that they seem to be an older auburn haired cattle hybrid before they turn their head to look at him, a single gold eye with no iris rooting him to the spot as they start staring through his soul; almost as if they're searching for something.

    Seemingly finding something they like the figure nods to themself and turns to face him fully, inciting an involuntary gasp from his lips at the sight of them.

   Stout, with broad shoulders stands a short old cattle hybrid with intense golden eyes, his irises and pupils nonexistent in the sea of molten gold. The man wears a stained long sleeved white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark pants, heavy looking boots, and a heavily stained blacksmith's apron. Long auburn hair and a dark beard curls in gentle waves and contrast pleasantly with his tanned skin, small braids with carved beads hidden amidst his dark tresses. But the most startling part of his appearance is his left arm and right leg.

   Gone. Where one would expect normal healthy limbs are instead limbs of metal that seem to have been welded seamlessly to his skin. Scars mar his skin where the prosthetics connect with flesh, yet in a morbid way the pieces of machinery are absolute works of mechanical art. Woven to mix beautifully with the scars on his arms are tattoos of several colors and shapes. Animals, plants, runes, beings of all kinds.

   Noting Morien's startled face the man chuckles and slowly approaches, humming in amusement and tired resignation when he sees the panic build in the blonds eyes the moment the seventeen year old realizes he can't move. Holding his hands up in surrender he gives Morien a reassuring smile and starts to explain, looking up into his blue eyes as he stops in front of the nervous lad.

"It's the dream state laddie. We don't have much time, I had to take your movement for a moment so I could speak with ye without a fuss, promise ta stay calm as ye can if I remove it?" 

    Assessing the man in front of him for a moment the blond considers his options before giving a small nod, relaxing a little more once the man snaps his fingers and the force gently lifts from Morien's body. Giving the man a small smile he holds out his hand, his demeanor a little brighter but still nervous when what is happening dawns on him.

"Morien Heulyn ap Dedwydd, at your service sir. Are..are you one of the deities?"

    The older man chuckles at Morien's words and grasps the lads forearm in a traditional greeting, his eyes almost burning in their intensity as he smiles at the young man before him.

"Aye laddie, sharper than a blade yeh are. Gofannon ap Dôn, god of Metalworking and Smiths."

   Pulling away from the greeting, the now revealed god of smiths turns and slowly walks back to his workbench, his voice turning grave and slightly mournful for the news he's about to bring to this bright young soul.

"Your life has been a long and constant fight despite your short time in this world my boy, and I am sorry to say your battle will not end for quite some time. A storm is coming, and any warrior worth his salt will need weapons worthy to wield in defense of his home, no?"

   Grabbing the project Morien had seen him working on when he first woke in this place he turns with it held firmly in his hands. Walking slowly towards the grave looking blond he holds it out, inciting an awed and reverent look to come to the young man's face. 

   In Gofannons hands rests a beautiful yet lethal looking twin set of axes. Sharp black and red accented blades, firm leather grips on their handles, and small runes decorating the blades radiating a steady hum of power creates what is most definitely one of the best set of weapons Morien has ever seen.

   Glancing up at the man in front of him Morien hesitates before it slowly dawn's that these weapons are meant for him . Gently taking them from the god's hands he takes a few steps back before performing some test swings, a bright grin lighting up his face the more the axes starts to feel like a part of him rather than some random flimsy hunks of metal in his hands.

    Humming in approval the smith god watches Morien practice for a moment nodding to himself before clearing his throat to catch the mooshroom's attention. Eyes now set on him Gofannon crosses his arms, giving Morien a serious look as he continues.

"Enchanted netherite. Don't lose them, I've already a set in the hands of some upstart Blood God. Now then-"

    Raising a hand he snaps his fingers, forcing an unknown object to fly into the room from the workshop and hit Morien. Sputtering a bit in surprise, the startled blond looks to find that the axes have been moved to a special leather holster that has appeared on his body, one axe on each hip. When he looks up again he flinches at the sight of Gofannon being closer than before, barely suppressing the urge to strike out.

"What are you d-"

   He cuts himself off before he can finish, the old gods hand raised near his face. Staring into the god's molten gold eyes he waits for him to say something. The god simply stares for a moment as if pondering something before speaking with a deep rumble, his voice almost seeming to be echoing.

"You hold pain within yourself lad, But with that pain is an inner fire, a will to save those around you- Do not let those flames go out. You hold the flames of ghasts within you. Learn to use their fire, it'll serve you well. Farewell for now my boy. Bydded i'r sêr eich tywys ."

    With that Gofannon presses two of his fingers to Morien's forehead. The moment the god's hand touches his face the blond can feel a shock up his spine and a warmth in his chest before his vision slowly fades, the smith's words echoing in his mind. As he feels himself slip away he tries to reach out to the ancient being before him, his pleas for answers unheard as he starts to glow.

    As he watches Morien's form fade away in a shower of faint gold light Gofannon speaks up, addressing an unknown figure approaching from his workshop without turning around. Now without mortal company and without need to put on a show anymore the man looks his age, worn and tired as he closes his eyes in thought of what his chosen will soon face.

"Do you think he'll be ready?"

   The figure chuckles sadly before they answer, a faint smile ghosting their face.

"One can only hope."

Secondary Author's note-

It's official, Morien has a Marciau Enaid!

Wonder what kind of trouble this will bring....

Chapter Text

Unknown Time, Unknown Place

   The sound of a fire crackling echoes through the night air. Nestled in front of the flames sits an unknown figure, sharpening an axe slowly and calmly, their senses tuned in to their surroundings. Despite their thoughts wandering they stay ever vigilant.

     Some days they wish they could go back to that moment. That single moment of blissful peace. Perhaps even go back in time, force themself to train harder than ever before to stop what came after.

    But then they remember what happened, and ultimately decide going through that again would be a fate worse than death.

Never again.

    Hearing a soft whimper they look down towards their right, smiling softly at the sight of a small child with dark hair sleeping leaned against them. Setting down their tools and pulling the child closer they chuckle softly as the little one hugs them and cuddles deeper into their side. Lifting their cloak from their shoulders they drape it over the child and tuck them in, running their fingers through the child's hair to help them fall back into deep sleep. Lifting their head they see another slightly older child with white and light grey hair poking at the fire with a stick. They exchange grins and the older child sets the stick away from the fire before they approach the older figure, cuddling into their other side with a happy hum. Chuckling softly, the adult hugs them as well and closes their eyes, resting back against the tree they're sitting in front of. Sighing softly in content, a rueful grin pulls at a bandage over their left eye.

   " I suppose I must admit. " They think to themself. " In the end, all the pain was worth it if it means I get to have you both with me. "

Ebrill 9th, 2024 (2 years after Chap. 12, Amaethon)

" Mrawd mawr! Mrawd mawr! "

    Turning away from the group of people he's talking to Morien smiles and laughs as he's tackled by a large gaggle of the village children, said children forming a doggie pile on top of him. He lets them "capture" him for a moment before eventually sitting up, laughing as the kids tumble and whine about wanting to stay in the pile. Standing up he stretches, humming happily while resting his hands on his hips, his eyes shining with mirth as he looks at them all crowded around him.

Holy shit they've grown up fast-

"Alright yeh wee shites, what do yeh want from me?"

    Pushing their way through the crowd a familiar white haired cat hybrid marches up to him, smiling up at him with bright happy eyes.

" Mrawd mawr! Please, will you show us your fire again? Pretty please?"

    Morien raises a teasing brow at Ze's request and crosses his arms over his chest. Reaching out he ruffles Ze's hair, smirking cheekily as the young cat hybrid half heartedly curses him out for messing with their hair.

"Will you let me fix your hair if I do? You're missing your glain teulu again fy brawd neu chwaer bach ."

   Reaching up to touch their hair they blush in embarrassment when they realize he's right, giving him a sheepish grin. Nodding quickly they ramble off something about grabbing their bead before running off, the crowd of children going with them with several cries of 'wait up' and 'be right back mrawd mawr! '

    Chuckling softly Morien relaxes back against a nearby table with a content sigh, his mind wandering as he remembers his 17th birthday and how life has been since his Deffroad Enaid . 

    He'd woken up to the sound of his parents calling his name. It took him several moments to process the concerned tone to their voices, the sound of their fear forcing his eyes open. 

  Blue. Nothing but blue. Why was everything muffled? Where-

   They'd grown concerned when he hadn't walked back out of the Glow Cavern around the usual traditional time. When they found him he had been lying unconscious on the fluorescent bottom of the glow pool, a thin layer of air protecting him from drowning. Quickly carrying him home they hadn't discovered the new marks on his skin until the next morning.

   Clustered together on his left shoulder was a small grouping of stars, runes hidden amidst them. Resting comfortably on top of a skull underneath the stars on his shoulder is a crow, the skull it's perched on surrounded and overgrown with several types of flowers and plants such as sprigs of yew, Nasturtiums, purple Hyacinths, and Pimpernel. Clutched in the beak of the crow is a cracked emerald gem. On his right forearm rests an ornate trident with water lilies curled around its handles and its prongs.

Dewiswyd gan Dri. Selected by Three.

Gofannon , Lord of smiths and metalworking.

Llŷr , Lord of the sea and healing.

And her .

The Morrígan.

Phantom Queen of death and destiny. Seen by some as a triple goddess, though the names have always varied.

    It's been two years, and yet he still hasn't unlocked most of the abilities the deities had claimed were within him. He had upped his training, drove himself into the ground, but all he had truly gotten mostly down were his flames from Gofannon. No healing tears, nothing from the other deities beyond the marks on his skin.

   Through training he has gotten his flames mostly under control though he doesn't feel proficient enough to use them in battle, only enough to perform tricks to amuse the village children much to his chagrin. Since his ceremony he has grown taller, reaching nearly 6"5, with slightly broader shoulders and stronger horns. No outward signs of his awakened Ghast inheritance have made themselves known besides calluses he's developed on his hands and feet from working with his flames. The scars on his chest and left eye from the accident that brought him to Amaethon have faded to a pleasantly healed pinkish white, other newer scars scattered amongst them telling their own stories of his life. His left eye has faded to a slightly lighter blue over time but hasn't lost any sort of sight yet much to his relief. His hair nowadays reaches just past the small of his back and can usually be seen in a casual loose braid with a smaller braid holding the family bead he'd been gifted by Ze always framing the right side of his face. On his right ear is an ear cuff similar to his father Hamfasts, 8 small gems representing those he holds dearest hanging from two different chains.

   He has reached Master status in his smithing apprenticeship and his healing apprenticeship, though he doesn't feel quite worthy of the titles yet due to inexperience.

   Much to everyone's relief Fayina and Hadden finally worked through everything just before Morien's 18th birthday, though they chose to stay friends over getting together, moving in together at Hadden's cabin. (Now if only Hamfast would get off his arse and confess to Dad and Tad everything would be perfect-) Others who had left with her long before he was born returned as well, reuniting into a large family Morien wasn't aware he even had. Some joined Amaethon's city guard and quickly rose up through the ranks, others started shops and brought with them new knowledge from afar.

    Before he can continue pondering any further he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder. Blinking quickly as he leaves his thoughts he turns to face who tapped him, smiling brightly at the sight of his grandmother. Smiling brightly he pulls Fayina into a hug, humming happily at the sound of her chuckling. Pulling away she cups his face in her hands and fusses over his hair being in his face, love and pride shining in her eye.

"Look at yeh. All grown on us- where does the time go?"

   Blushing from her compliments and fussing over him Morien smiles shyly, chuckling softly with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

"Dunno- all I know is, I appreciate you quite a lot Gran. You and everyone else."

    Fawning over his shy confession Fayina pinches his cheeks and fusses over him some more, allowing herself to drop her usual serious mask for her grandson's birthday celebration. Chuckling and half heartedly whining after a while as she continues to smother him, Morien decides to get her back with a cheeky grin.

"Where's taid , nain? I thought the old Captain would be with you-"

   Sputtering in surprise from her grandson's sudden question she growls, lightly smacking his arm with a fake glare and a bright warm embarrassed blush lighting up her face.

"He's off on some errands, left early this morning- said something about your gift, and you're damn well not getting it if you continue y'hear?"

    Laughing as she throws an embarrassed tiff he looks past her for a moment and smiles at the sight of the children running up, chuckling softly while stepping away from Fayina a bit to give them room to crowd him.

"Sorry Gran I need to cut this short if that's alright, the wee ones asked for a fire show."

    Sighing dramatically, Fayina nods, giving him a proud smile as she moves away to sit at the nearest table. Picking up a tankard she holds it up in cheers towards him, her smile bright.

"Go on then, just stay careful!"

   Giving her a thumbs up and a cheeky grin he barely has time before the children return chattering away. Tugging on his arms and they make him sit next to his grandmother, much to her amusement, and gently in their endearingly serious way force him to sit in a position so he can fix Ze's hair quickly. Chuckling warmly as they fuss over him and Ze he gently brings the cat hybrid closer so he can mess with their hair, chatting away with everyone as he takes gentle care brushing and segmenting a small part of Ze's hair. Slowly weaving their hair into a braid he smiles as he fastens the family bead he'd forged during his first few weeks of his smithing apprenticeship, pulling them into a loving hug before standing up. He ruffles Ze's hair before stepping away from the kids in order to channel his flames, a humble blush lighting up his face as some of the children call out to the other party goers that he's about to perform some tricks.

   Smiling brightly as some parents and party goers join the children to watch, the cheery blond closes his eyes, placing his hands in a prayer position as he gathers the energy he needs. Snapping his eyes open he smirks as some of the crowd calls out in delight at the sight of his hands lighting up with orange flames, immediately moving to toss some of the fire into the air above him. Gradually he throws more and more fire until he's juggling dozens of glowing orbs of light, smiling brightly as many folks cheer him on. Catching two of the flames on the tips of his horns he laughs as he balances them, winking at the crowd as he starts to slowly change the flames he's throwing. With every toss the flames start to shift colors and shapes, enrapturing the crowd with a delightful show.

" Capten! Y Capten, mae wedi brifo! Mae rhywun yn cael y Meddygon- "

   Startled from his deep concentration Morien quickly dissipates the flames so that no one will get hurt, turning to face where the call of alarm is coming from with flames still dancing around his fingers. Without looking away from the approaching panicked horse he quickly pushes the children behind him and tells them to run home, glancing back only once to make sure they're leaving before running forward into the path of the sprinting horse. Bringing his arms up he calls out, trying to calm the panicking steed as best he can. Others approach and start to calm the horse as well, eventually allowing some to grab the rider and gently lay them on the ground to wait for medics to arrive.

    Kneeling next to the rider Morien gives them a quick once over to check for injuries, something at the back of his mind noting their familiar clothing and trying to warn him but too muffled by his trained focus. As others work on removing the bindings holding the person's hands behind their back Morien reaches up and removes the bag that hides their face.

No.

No.

   Turning away Morien coughs and retches harshly, his mind reeling from the sight burned into his mind. As he tries desperately not to lose what's in his stomach he barely processes the sound of someone screaming, anguished wails echoing loudly in his ears. Forcing himself to look at the body again he has to bite his cheek to stop from crying out, tears falling down his cheeks in a steady stream.

     Dark salt and pepper locks matt together with blood, dark red where some still bleeding wounds can be found. Dried blood and dark bruises mar the body's skin with signs of struggle, an unhealthy sheen giving another sign that they have passed. Two wounds on either side of their head look as if something has been removed from them. Their lips have turned to a faint blue shade, yellow tint on the corners of their mouth and a ripe scent in the air betraying the fact that they had been vomiting. Gentle pink eyes once full of life stare blankly towards the evening sky, faded streaks through the blood caked on their face showing they had been crying during whatever ordeal had brought them to this point.

Seiriol ap Sulien.  

Captain Hadden.

    Unable to turn his eyes away he barely notices someone falling to their knees next to him. He only notices when they reach out and grab Hadden's hand, an icy blade of grief and horror stabbing him through the heart when he sees it's Fayina. Tilting himself over he hugs her tightly in a side hug, a muffled sub shaking his frame from the sight of tears flowing down her face. Staring blankly Fayina simply clings to Hadden's hand, forcing herself to ignore how cold he feels as she starts to murmur to him.

"Stop it. Get up you old fool, this isn't funny- stop it-! "

   She holds on to her hope desperately, almost mad with the thought of this being real. It can't be real, she had just bloody seen him, he'd left their home early this morning on some errands he wanted to finish before the party.(" You worry too much fy anwylyd, I'll be fine. Save a drink for me aye? )

" Anti? Anti, you need to let go, we need to bring him to the medhall. Anti please-"

   Looking up towards the owner of the voice Fayina glares at them, lifting her glare only a little when she sees it's Hamfast. Clinging tighter to Hadden's hand she shakes her head no, looking away from him to go back to staring at Hadden's still form. 

   Lifting his head from her shoulder Morien slowly reaches out and puts his hand over hers, murmuring shakily with clear brokenness.

"Gran. Gran, we need to move him- please. Let go, I won't leave you just let go of him-"

    Slowly prying her fingers away Morien finally takes her hand in his and holds her close, pulling her close so her head rests on his shoulder as she breaks down. Closing his eyes tightly he tilts his head away as Hamfast and other townsfolk prepare Hadden's body to be moved. Murmuring shaky reassurance to his grieving grandmother he silently curses within his mind, trying desperately to understand how everything could change so quickly.

I failed him. Deities above, what the hell happened?

Who the hell could have done this?  

__________________

   Nearly busting down the doors of the medhall Fenris marches towards the back of the hall with Rose by his side, his face stoic as he forces himself to be as professional as possible despite his personal connection to the victim. Approaching the crowd surrounding Hadden's body he pushes his way into the ring of people, immediately palling at the sight of the deceased Captain. Without looking away from the body he grabs Isengrim's hand and clings to it tightly, tears of frustration and grief slowly building in his eyes. Murmuring shakily his voice rings clearly with a steely rage.

" Who the hell could have done this? "

   Looking around at the small gathering of family and friends his face slackens from it's snarl into instant fear when he notes the absence of a familiar blond mooshroom and said blond's life-hardened grandmother. Others note his sudden panic and glance around, some cursing when they come to the same conclusion. Turning to his husband, Isengrim speaks up, his voice sharp with growing worry and fear.

"Fen, where's Fayina? Where's Morien? "

"We're here, Dad, just a bit..worn."

    Approaching slowly from the doors Fenris and Rose had just barged through, walks Morien, Fayina tucked quietly into his side. Both look haggard, the elder of the two nearly catatonic with untold grief now that the situation has truly sunk in. Quickly rushing forward, Rose leaves Fenris's side to hold onto Fayina, others rushing to bring the older woman a chair. Melting into the chair the older cattle hybrid simply stares, her eyesight hazy as she blankly looks at the body laying on the table nearby. She hardly notices as Hamfast gently pats her forehead with a cool cloth, her mind lost to grief and bittersweet memories.

    The grieving woman now settled somewhat, they turn their attention towards Morien, his parents pulling him into hugs and fussing over him. Eventually gently pushing them all away Morien wipes at his eyes, waving them away when they try to ask him if he'd like to go relax. Turning towards the autopsy table the blond clenches his jaw, nodding towards it with a carefully blank look.

"Please let's.. let's just fucking find out who did this."

   Patting him on the back, Hamfast gives him a small rueful grin, standing with him as Clara and Isengrim start to prepare the body for study. Murmuring quietly to each other they discuss what Morien saw the moment Hadden's horse rode into town, leaving the doctors to their work.

   Pulling on gloves Clara studies Hadden's face, forcing herself into a mask of professionalism. Furrowing her brow she leans in closer, noting something appears to be pushing against the lips of the Captain. Just as she's about to touch his mouth she hears Isengrim cry out, pulling her hand away to give him a confused and alarmed look. The attention of the entire room now on him Isengrim doesn't bother with beating around the bush, pointing at something faint on the corner of the body's mouth.

"On his mouth- right there, look-"

    Looking closely at where the rabbit hybrid is pointing, Clara squints, humming in confusion and wonder. Leaning away with a horrified look as she comes to some unknown conclusion, she looks towards Isengrim, horror clear on her face.

" No. You don't think-"

    Moving closer with a grim look Isengrim nods, waving for Fenris to approach. Giving his husband a grave look he holds up an extra pair of gloves, concern for his spouse's health clear on his face as he speaks.

"How's your blessing from Amaethon going, still resistant to poison?"

    Startled by the sudden question and the insinuated weapon used against Hadden, Fenris quickly recollects himself and gives his love a determined look, nodding while responding and pulling on the offered gloves.

"Never better. What would you like me to do?"

     Moving to give the wolf room, Isengrim points towards the body's mouth, grimacing in distaste towards having to do what he has to.

"His mouth- there's something in there, it's poking at his lips. You're the only one who can grab it without being poisoned beyond saving."

     Mirroring his husband's grimace Fenris relents, despising the thought of defiling a trusted friend's body in such a way that he must. Reaching out he gently forces the body's mouth open, immediately wincing at the sharp smell. Pausing a moment he catches a sort of woody scent, sniffing the air for a moment before paling when what it is hits him. Cursing softly he quickens his movements, snarling when he pulls something out of Hadden's mouth. Tossing it into a bowl on a nearby table he grabs the bowl and brings it to the closest sink. Bringing it under the water he winces as some of the mixture misses his gloves and splashes onto his skin, forcing his growing fear down as to not alert everyone else of his mistake. Taking the now somewhat cleaner object out of the bowl he unfolds it while turning to face everyone else, revealing a wax protected letter.

   Sick of the tense silence Morien speaks up, his voice rough with grief and barely held anger aimed at whoever had the gall to do something like this to his family.

"Well? The hell does it say-?"

    Giving his son a quick warning look Fenris starts to read, his hands clutching the letter tightly the worse his thoughts become.

" Annwyl Cefnder,

    I hope this letter reaches you quite safely. It has been so very long since we've last talked, hasn't it? You'll be glad to know that my father has passed on to the lands of our ancestors. I have inherited his promise he made to your predecessor and father, Gwaednerth ap Fenrir. How exciting, it's been so very long since we last had a family reunion. Here's to hoping you aren't as weak as your father was when your uncle Gwydyr killed him.

           -The Rightful Gaffer of Amaethon,

                                Cadfael ap Gwydyr

P.s. Did your dear Captain make it home safely? He was quite a fighter, loyal to a fault even after we cut off his fins and forced Wolfsbane down his throat. Your father will be glad to have his favorite pawn returned to him I imagine. "

    Tossing the letter down Fenris turns away from his family and begins to pace, taking off the poisoned covered gloves and tossing them to the side as he walks. Quite unexpectedly he screams out a curse while punching the nearest wall, panting harshly as he tries to calm and ignore the fact he can't feel any pain in his hands. Turning to face his family he flinches at the sight of confusion and betrayal in his son's eyes, knowing quite well why he's being given that look. Pulling up his usual stoic mask he stands tall, barking out orders in a clipped no nonsense tone.

" Hafgan , Isengrim, gather as much supplies as you can, we're going to need everything you've got once things go to shite. Ffion? "

    Straightening her posture as Fenris addresses her, Rose nods, her jaw clenched as her mind already starts to spiral with different plans that depend on what she already knows he's going to ask.

"Will you take up your rightful station as Amaethon's General? Will you be her shield?"

    Placing her hand over her heart she nods, bowing before leaving the room to seemingly do what she must for Amaethon. Turning to Hamfast, Fenris nods towards Fayina with a grim look, his voice slightly gentler.

" Dedwydd, please take care of your matriarch for now- you can leave her in order to assist either Ffion or your fellow medics once you feel she's situated."

    Noticing the other man hesitating Fenris gives him a small reassuring smile, knowing precisely why he's doing so. Turning to his son he smiles sadly at the hard look in the blond's eyes, gesturing for the young mooshroom to follow him.

" Morien , you can come with me pup, I'll be needing your help."

    Wanting to help in any way he can but hating that he needs to go with his father he slowly approaches said wolf, walking past him to leave the medhall. Following his upset son with a defeated sigh Fenris takes his time walking to his study, eventually walking in to find Morien lounging in one of the leather armchairs. Sitting in the chair behind his desk the old wolf sighs softly, hiding his shaking hands by clutching his hands in his lap. Starting quietly he tries to explain, knowing damn well that Morien is upset with being lied to again.

"I understand why you're upset lad and I-"

"Fuck off with that blubbering shite and just get to the point. I'll decide if I can trust you again after you've explained this bullshite to me and told me what you need me for."

    Breathing in deeply through his nose Fenris tries to quell his building frustration and anger; Not wanting to take it out on his son who is just as, if not more, upset than he is. Sighing softly he nods and stands up, approaching a nearby bookcase. Perusing for a moment he clicks his tongue absentmindedly when he finds what he's looking for and grabs it, sitting back down while placing it on the desk. As he flips through pages of the old looking book he starts to speak.

  "As I was saying before, I do understand why you're upset, and I regret the pain our secrets bring you. We trust you far more than you realize fy mab . Once again we've kept something serious from you, but to be fair it is a pact that was made far before your birth. We did not keep any of this away from you to be malicious, but to try and keep the younger generation free from the sins of the past. A chance for a new start." 

   Finding the page he's looking for he turns the book around so that Morien can see, startling the blond with the sight of a picture. In the picture stands five wolf hybrids of varying ages, with the title 'The Line of Gwenydd' underneath the faded image. His voice soft with regret Fenris continues, letting Morien grab the book to explore on his own.

   "The truth is lad, despite his battle with his brother Gwawrddydd, Gwenydd's fight to keep Amaethons people safe never ended. Y Gwrthodedig , Evokers still wandered the land, determined to snuff out the line that had started their tormented existence. For generations Gwenydd's descendants have lead Amaethons people, fighting to keep the Evokers at bay. Our people had been stuck under a cloud of bloodshed and death, many fearing that that was all we were destined to achieve. That is until my father, your grandfather, took charge." His face solemn, Fenris stares at the figures in the photo as he goes on, his voice grave.

   " My father was never meant to be Gaffer. Being my grandfather Fenrir's youngest son, father had full intentions of joining the city guard, helping our people in that way. More hands on. He was a firm believer in grandfather's dream- that during his rule, the bloodshed would end. Grandfather was determined to bring prosperity to Amaethon, wishing for the battles to come to a stop. There are even rumors that he had come into contact with the leader of the Evokers, and that a peace treaty was close to being forged between them.

 But then, there was the uprising -

    Gwydyr ap Fenrir, eldest of the Gaffer's two sons and rightful heir to the old wolf , was set on the war continuing, wanting glory and for those he saw as filth to burn. Rising up with followers he had secretly beckoned to his cause, Gwydyr started a skirmish in the city square, killing Fenrir and assuming control of the city with an iron fist.

   For a time, all hope was lost- until my father returned from a trip he'd taken south, having been hidden away during the uprising as to preserve our line and what hope the people had left. Answering his people's call, my father gathered allies and during a starry evening stormed the city, catching Gwydyr off guard and driving him from our home. As he was forced through the inland gate of the city Gwydyr swore to his own brother that he would return to burn what he loved most to ashes, before sprinting off into the unknown, never to be seen again for many years.

   Relative peace lasted for a good while. I was born, trained intensely for when I would one day take over. From the moment I could walk I had a sword placed in my hands. Your parents and I grew up together, trained together, fought together. In fact Rose and Hamfast were the children of my father's right hand and General, Arwyn ap Nerys. The peace lasted until just before my 17th birthday, when Gwydyr surrounded Amaethon with his allies he'd made while he was away. Evokers stood proudly beside him- he had joined those in which he had once sworn to destroy. Despite being far too young your parents and I joined the fight. My father set me as his co-leader despite my inexperience, granting me the full power and influence he himself held. I met my cousin Cadfael ap Gwydyr, the one who... mailed us the letter I read in the medhall, by him attempting to stab me from behind. He was dark, almost mad in his devotion to his father's cause, called me a 'fallen son of Morrigan' and swore to me that he would bring me 'back into our glorious lady's good graces'. Never in my life have I ever been more glad to pummel someone.

   We drove them off, but not without casualties. Arwyn had died protecting his children, Hadden was presumed to be dead after taking a spear to the chest for my father, and many more were either wounded or missing. Gwydyr and Cadfael's bodies were never found, and my father declared them dead. It wasn't until the day I assumed the Gaffership that he told me the truth.

   He had spared them, not wishing to lose some of the only family he had left. 

A few days later he was found at the bottom of a cliff face, and at the age of 18 I found myself with the hopes and dreams of hundreds piled onto my shoulders. "

    Looking up as he finishes his story he smiles sadly as he meets his son's troubled gaze, his heart sinking from the sight of the cool well of pain and understanding in his sharp blue eyes. Reaching out he places his hand over Morien's, his voice soft with deep regret for what he must ask.

"I take it, you know what I'm about to ask of you?"

   Breaking their staring contest Morien looks down, staring blankly at his father's hand over his. Nodding he clenches his jaw, memories of a past far gone echoing in his mind. With a troubled frown Fenris stands and walks around his desk, gently pulling the blond onto his feet. Holding his son's shoulders he speaks with a firm insistent tone, tears welling in his eyes.

"You have been training for this from the moment we took you in. As my son, the title of Gaffer will one day fall to you- but I promise you, it will not do so now. I promise you that the responsibilities you will earn during this ordeal will not last beyond it. Once everything is over, you can continue with your dreams, whatever they may be. Understood?"

   Searching for any sign of falsehood in his father's gaze Morien eventually nods, sighing softly with a deep weariness. Squaring his shoulders he murmurs softly with a grim yet determined look on his face, the scar over his left eye standing out in the candle light of the moody study.

"Aye. Understood, tad. "

   Smiling softly Fenris nods, gently pulling Morien into a rib crushing hug. Clinging to each other they silently muse over what the future may bring, the elder of the two clenching his fists in an attempt to hide the fact they're trembling. Closing his eyes he sends a prayer to the god's hoping desperately that they'll heed him.

Please, take no one else from me.

Chapter Text

Mehefin 21st, 2024 Amaethon 

"Morien? How long have you been sitting at that desk lad?"

   Looking up from the map he's intently studying Morien has to blink out of his hyper focused state, giving a strained smile when he sees his father Isengrim standing in the doorway of Morien's personal study. Sighing softly he runs a hand through his hair while sitting back in his chair, humming tiredly.

"A while. Since around five this morning I think."

   Smiling softly, Isengrim leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed, nodding in the general direction of the medhall as he makes an offer; trying to get his son to relax by doing something else.

"Want ta come help me in the medhall? Clara had ta go help your da' Hamfast with some supply gathering in the North West forests past the lighthouse, I just have a bit of potion labeling and sorting to finish."

   Hesitating for a moment Morien eventually stands, stretching and groaning softly as his back pops a bit from him sitting in one position for so long. Walking to a nearby armour stand he quickly equips some light iron travel armour and grabs his axes, strapping them to his sides before approaching his father with a small smile.

"Gladly. What potions are we workin with?"

   Chuckling softly, Isengrim claps a hand on his son's shoulder, patting him as they start to walk together. Putting his hands up Isengrim starts to list off different potions, ticking them off with his fingers as they make their way to the medhall.

"Fire resistance for the fire them dark bastards like tossin' around, some of the lads just returned from supply gathering so we have plenty of Regeneration and Healing, and we're going to start brewing Strength, Night Vision, and Swiftness later tonight. The more dangerous ones like Poison and Weakness are being worked on in bulk by the Alchemists."

   Pushing the large doors of the medhall open he makes his way to the back of the hall, approaching a group of tables covered in crates of potions. Pulling on a pair of worn looking reading glasses while passing Morien a quill they start labeling every potion in each crate, working together in comfortable silence. His mind wandering over the past couple of months, Around the third finished crate Morien speaks up, his voice soft with uncertainty.

"Da'? Do yeh think..Do yeh think everything will turn out?"

   Glancing up over his glasses from the bottle he's labeling Isengrim raises a confused brow, looking back down and continuing to work as he responds.

"Turn out Ladd?"

   Sighing softly Morien sets down the last bottle for the crate he's working on and rests his hands on the table, staring off into deep thought as he tries to elaborate.

"The war. I can't help but wonder. As far as my experience knows, either the war ends bad, or it ends good, which is arguably worse. Because something worse than the war always happens after."

   The faint sound of a bottle clinking against wood is heard. Soft footsteps echo in the silent room afterwards as Isengrim leaves his side of the table. Blinking in confusion as he's pulled from his thoughts Morien looks down to find his dad hugging him, momentarily distracting himself with amusement when he notes the large height difference between himself and the rabbit hybrid. Smiling softly, the mooshroom hugs him back and lets himself relax in the doctor's calming presence, slumping in his father's hold with a deep weariness and relief.

   Eventually pulling away from the hug, Isengrim takes Morien's hands in his, smiling reassuringly up at him while patting his hands.

"Have faith in the folks around you, ladd. Everything will turn out just fine if we stick together. Alright?"

   Nodding in agreement the blond pulls his father into another quick hug, chuckling as the shorter man curses him out for 'growing so damn tall', his voice muffled by Morien's chest. A loud knocking echoing in the hall pulls them from their cheerful moment, a grim looking messenger standing in the doorway of the hall fully decked out in light armour. Noting they have the duo's full attention on them they place a hand on their heart and give a quick bow, standing tall as they give their message.

" Meddyg da , Gaffer Ifanc , Lord Fenris has called an emergency War Council. Sir Grigor and his squadron have returned from their scouting mission."

   Exchanging a quick look the father son duo nod to each other, the older of the two quickly equipping a custom set of enchanted diamond armour with a medic red cross proudly emblazoned on the left shoulder as the younger switches his light armour out for a set of enchanted diamond armour of his own, a mandatory precaution in case of ambush or orders to start an official battle.

   As they follow the messenger to the war room, Morien can't help but feel an uneasy twist in his gut, dread building within him from an unknown source.

For all our sakes Dad, I hope what you said is true. I don't know if I can handle being alone again.

_____________

"....-o you want us to be vulnerable , Lieutenant, or do you just have no damn brain cells left? When I told you to station some of your people on the North end I fucking meant it, now where's your damn report-?!"

"I..- I'm sorry, Master General, I do not have a report to give- everyone is stationed either in the East or South, that was the orders we were give-"

"Demoted, get out and get someone actually fucking competent to take over for you and send them here in an hour. Don't just stare at me, MOVE! "

    The moment they reach the war room they find a pale and shaking guardsmen shuffling quickly past them out the door, escaping the room as if the hounds of hell are on their heels. Making his way into the room Morien's met with the sight of Rose standing over a large table covered with a massive map and several chess-like pieces marking different segments. Rose gives off a pure air of rage and intimidation, gleaming diamond armour and two swords strapped to her back upping the intimidation part by a large margin. On her left stands Fenris in similar but personalized diamond armour of his own, slightly paler and more worn looking than usual but still as stoic as ever. On her right is Grigor ap Caradog, a chestnut and grey haired brown mooshroom hybrid; Captain of Amaethon's guard and a distant cousin of her and Hamfast. 

    Looking up together at the sound of armour approaching the entire room seems to settle a little, the presence of the head doctor and the young Gaffer soothing many folks' growing ire. Standing tall at the opposite side of the table from the others, Morien squares his shoulders and pulls up a stoic mask, nodding absentmindedly at Isengrim as the older man moves to stand by his husband's side. Looking towards Rose the young mooshroom speaks up, his hand resting comfortably on the head of one of the axes at his side.

"What've we got General?"

    Rubbing her eyes Rose heaves a deep weary sigh, gesturing towards the table with her free hand as she growls out a response; leftover frustration and anger bleeding into her voice.

   "Ah fockin mess, that's what. McCreary and Idwal haven't returned yet with the supply ships despite being due over 2 weeks ago, the netherite mines have run dry and the crew hasn't found a new biome to start a mine in yet, 3 of the main forges fokn caved due to some dolt formin' obsidian in the coolers, and some fokn twit double stationed some of the guard in the South end an' left our North side open for the pickings! Honestly, just one lick of common sense would be bloody grand by now."

    With each new problem revealed to him Morien's brow furrows, an upset scowl overtaking his face as his temper slowly reaches the same frustrated levels as his mother. Placing his hands on the table he studies the main map, speaking up with a contemplative tone as he tries to help form some sort of plan.

    "Grigor, how quickly can we get word out to shift some of our guards to the North West? Any other time I'd say leaving it open could be pardoned for a short while, but leaving the farms along with the schoolhouse unguarded makes my damn skin crawl."

    The Captain leans in to look where Morien's looking, humming unhappily under his breath when he notes how scarce any sort of protection is marked near where the blond is mentioning. Gesturing for a messenger to approach from the sidelines, he grabs some empty parchment and quickly notes something down, folding the message before stamping the front and passing it to the messenger. Without looking away from the map he gives them quick orders.

"Bring this to Manon, she'll know what to do. She should be near the East gate."

    Looking up from the map he smiles at Morien, chuckling softly at the blond's unimpressed yet amused look. Sending a cheeky wink at Rose he practically beams when she rolls her eyes, glad to know that despite stress and pain of what's to come, he can still help his family wind down a little.

   "I'd say an hour maximum, most definitely less once Manon gathers her squadron up. An absolute powerhouse that one- she'll get those trainees sorted out right quick for yeh."

    Nodding at the older Mooshroom's words Morien gives him a grateful smile, a small amount of tension leaving his shoulders now that one of their main problems has been covered. Reluctantly letting his smile fall he turns his head towards Rose, glancing between her and Grigor as he speaks.

    "What of the ravens? Has Clara and the other raven-kin reported anything from them?"

    Shaking her head in the negative Rose folds her arms over her chest, her eyes dull as she recounts what she's heard.

   "Desolation. All they speak of is ruin. The Forsaken have learned they spy for us, they've started to torch any and all nests they can find in retaliation. We're currently sheltering many in some empty storehouses, it's all we can spare to help them. Despite this some still continue to help us- they've spoken of 'tall ones nests consumed by the sun's children', which we believe ties into Grigor's report."

   Feeling everyone's eyes on him Grigor looks up from the map, grimacing at the thought of what he must speak of. Reaching into a small satchel by his side he pulls out a map of Cymru, the sight of several red dots littering places near Amaethon immediately catching Morien's eye. Gently taking the map from Grigor's hands the young Gaffer places it on the table so everyone can study it closer. With every word the Captain speaks everyone can feel their hearts sink, fear for what lies ahead looming closer; A steady shadow of guilt and horror cloaking the room when they realize just how many red dots there are.

   "The bastards have started burning towns. Entire villages wiped clean off the map. They leave nothing behind but corpses for the wildlife to scavenge, everything else is burned to ash. Only reason we know it's them is because they leave a wolf's head on a pike standing in the center of the village's remains. They're cutting us off from everyone while also trying to draw us out, testing us to see how much we'll leave Amaethon unmanned for the sake of saving far off innocent bystanders."

   "And they know damn well the thought that we've already failed to save so many will lower moral, crush our spirits."

   Speaking up for the first time since the meeting began, Fenris perches a set of reading glasses on the end of his nose and glares at the red dotted map. Placing his hands on the table he pointedly ignores the inquisitive and concerned looks he earns from many in the room at the sight of bandages covering every inch of skin on them, even up his arms and seemingly under his arm guards. Placing a finger on the farthest dot he slowly connects it with the others, tracing a scattered yet clear path that leads to Amaethon. Resting his finger on the closest dot to Amaethon he looks up at Grigor over his glasses, yellow eyes piercing gentle brown with a wartorn coldness.

"When was this one estimated to have been demolished, Captain?"

    Taking a steadying breath Grigor hesitates, glancing at everyone in the room. Settling his gaze on the only blond present he gives the young man a sad thin smile, his voice soft with regret and grief as he answers.

"Ebrill, Gaffer. Ebrill 9th ."

     Several soft curses are muttered throughout the room, many giving the Gaffer's son worried or sorrowful glances. Morien clenches his jaw and looks down at the table, his gaze burning the table with mixed emotions. As he stares at the table the tension in his face slowly melts into confusion, his brow furrowed in concentration as he glances between the two different maps. Looking up he speaks to everyone present, clearly troubled with whatever thought is itching at the back of his mind.

"Did that Lieutenant ever explain who gave them orders to move South?"

     Scratching her chin Rose shrugs, her brow furrowed as she tries to think back to what the Lieutenant told her before she sent them off.

"Nothing beyond receiving a letter telling them of a change of plans. I'll admit to sending them off in a bad bout, perhaps we should send for them-"

"Hafgan , you can't be fucking serious-"

"Don't you dare tell me you wouldn't have done the same, mab y gwaed-lythyren! "

"Mab y gwaed-lythyren ? Hafgan verch Arwyn, if you value your fokn head-"

"Both of you stop it! Oh honestly -"

"Digon! "

   With one of his axes embedded in the map table Morien takes command of the room, glaring in challenge at everyone who was involved with the argument. Tugging his axe out of the table he slowly straps it back into place at his side, gesturing for someone to open the main doors at the sound of knocking. Leveling everyone with a disappointed look he shakes his head and turns to face whoever is entering the room, missing the mixed looks of shame and awe aimed at his back. Addressing the panicked looking messenger, Morien stands tall with a hand resting on the head of one of his axes, his appearance forcing the already skittish messenger to pale with fear.

"What news do you bring?"

    Shaking slightly the messenger stutters out their message, tears slowly falling down their face. They hug themselves as they struggle to speak, their alarmed appearance forming a thick tension in the room. With just a few simple words they freeze the hearts of everyone present, horrified silence somehow deafening in the tightly packed room.

"T..The Schoolhouse. It's..-"

"It's what? Spit it out already-!"

"It's burning to the ground. "

     For a mere moment there's silence. Next, there's an explosion of voices and movement, many screaming for answers; others trying to grab the Gaffer's son, knowing quite well how he may react. Before anyone can stop him Morien sprints out the door, only one thought on his mind at that moment.

The children.

Ze .

    Vaguely he processes the sound of scattered footsteps and calls of his name echoing from behind him but he brushes them off, ignoring cries of alarm whenever he happens to run into someone walking in his way. Running for the nearest open doorway he finds himself sprinting through the doors of the training hall to the streets of Amaethon, glancing around before running towards the nearest alley. 

Please

Please let them be okay

Ffyniannau Ffyniannus , if I have earned the right to make requests of you, keep them safe- 

   Nearly tumbling into a wooden cart as he slides into a sharp turn the frantic blond catches himself on his fingers, the sting of small scrapes a mere afterthought as he continues to run. To anyone who sees him he's a blur of blue and red, his tail whipping behind him like a frantic banner of alarm being waved. As he nears the North West end of his home he nearly chokes from the thick smell of smoke, a small part of him that once clung to the hope that the message was false screaming in agony at what he may find. His heart hammering in his chest he reaches the field the schoolhouse stands in and feels his stomach fall with a heavy weight of despair.

   Any other day, any other moment, he would have likely marveled at the sight of it. Flames of gold and the deepest red reach toward the dark evening sky, sparks flowing skyward to mingle with the faintly shining stars above. A crowd of people stand around the once homely structure, holding each other close; staring in morbid fascination as the flames seem to climb higher with every moment that passes. Others run to and fro, either collecting water in buckets to pass along or towering up with scaffolding or miscellaneous blocks in order to better reach the flames. The smell of smoke and burnt oak permeate the air, the underlying scent of something far more sinister and revolting nearly unnoticeable unless one were to have experienced it before. Moving closer Morien frantically searches the crowd for a familiar head of silvery white hair, each failed attempt fueling his fear to the point of near suffocation. Standing in front of the burning building he simply stares, his mind racing with a million possibilities and half-baked plans. His eyes catch sight of the main doors of the schoolhouse and within moments he knows exactly what he's going to do. A grim look of determination and the subtle shimmer of him starting up one of his abilities is all anyone catches on his face before he sprints forward; screams of alarm and anguish follow him from the surrounding crowd as the beloved Gaffer's-son forces his way into the fire and through the scorched doors. No one takes note of the Pike he sprints past, the wolf's head lodged on it's tip almost seeming to be jeering at the destruction behind it.

    The moment he's inside, his senses are immediately hit with the putrid scent of something fowl, all instincts within him screaming for him to leave. Coughing into his arm he curses and tries to crouch in order to avoid some of the smoke, slowly making his way down the hall leading to the main classroom. Every door he passes he forces open, calling for his sibling and any of the other children who may be trapped. Reaching the final door he clenches his teeth in frustration and rams into it hard.

" Ze! Where ar-"

    All Morien can do is stare. Any semblance of hope leaves him, his knees buckling and threatening to drop him to the burnt floor.

    Bodies. Everywhere. Many have already been charred beyond recognition, still curled in positions screaming out with the agony they felt in their last moments. Others lay as if they had been simply dozing as their lives unexpectedly came to an end. Stumbling forward and spinning around in the center of the room Morien's shoulders shake, heartbroken yet quiet sobs breaking through the horror clouding his mind. Desperately searching for anyone he can save he catches a glimpse of a small hand peeking out from underneath an upturned table and nearly chokes. 

   Rushing forward he wrenches the table quickly from it's position and gasps as his heart stops, the blonde's mind almost shattering from what lies before him.

   They're on their stomach, almost seeming to reach out towards him. Stabbed through their back, the tip of the blade pointed towards the sky, is an iron sword. Their once bright eyes stare blankly into the unknown, some bruising and blood on their face from a fight they had no chance of winning. A single bead on the end of a small braid framing their face glints in the firelight, the word Wastad carved upon its surface amidst carvings of flowers.

    " Forget-me-nots ", his treacherous mind whispers. " Ze's favorite. "

    Choking back a sob Morien pulls his sibling into his arms, brushing away their blood matted hair so he can cup their face. Murmuring apologies he simply holds them, losing focus on his fire resistance.

And why should he keep himself safe from the flames? He failed them, deities above he killed them-

   Lost in his grief he doesn't hear someone approaching until they grab him and start to pull him away. Panicking, screaming at them he fights back, refusing to leave the one he'd sworn to protect. In his haste to either stay or bring them with, he blindly reaches out, losing the fight against whoever is dragging him away but not without bringing something with him. Going limp in the unknown person's arms he wails in deep rooted grief, pleading for them to leave him to burn.

    Pulled outside he feels several sets of hands join the first, touching his face or patting out small patches of flames still clinging to him. Dozens of voices assault his ears, switching between reprimanding him, consoling him, and asking him if he's okay. Gently helping the grief stricken blonde sit up some folks move away to give him space, many hearts breaking at the sight of his soot and tear streak covered face. Looking up at a pair of voices worriedly calling his name, Morien feels himself melt at the sight of Hamfast and Clara, both catching him in their arms as he breaks down. Holding him close they block his sight of the building, silently praying to the deities that this event won't break him beyond recovery.

One can only hope.

_____________________________

     "Morien? Is there anything we can get you, fy mab ?"

     Without looking at his mother Rose Morien shakes his head no, curling in on himself more in the armchair he's seated in. Absently noting the sound of a worried sigh and the feeling of a soft kiss being planted on his forehead, the blonde ignores all in favor of staring blankly at the fireplace nearby. 

     It was late by the time they'd returned home. His parents had gently moved him to the bathroom to bathe, laying out clothes for him to change into and helping him brush his hair.  All he had managed to put on were some underclothes and some pajama pants before all semblance of productivity and self care had left him. Despite several attempts, no one had yet managed to get him to open his right hand. No requests to treat possible wounds were heard let alone acknowledged.

     His mind wandering with the dancing flames of the fireplace Morien sinks further within his mind. Echoes of ghostly laughter curl around in his mind as he loses himself in melancholy, reminiscing over memories he alone holds now. One memory in particular hits him hard. Despite his mind screaming at him to push it back, to forget, he finds himself sinking into it. Desperate to replace the latest image in his mind of a certain cat hybrid with one far more lively.

_______

"Hey...mrawd mawr?"

   Looking over at the young child seated next to him Morien sets down the book he had been reading, giving them a small smile. Noting the troubled look on Ze's face the blonde gives them his full attention, setting his book off to the side so he can turn his body to face them.

"Ze? What's wrong, what happened?"

    Looking away while fidgeting with the bottom hem of their shirt the younger of the two hesitates, whatever they're thinking of slowly bringing them to tears. Forcing themselves to look up they accidentally yell, trying to rush their words out before they can second guess themselves.

"ARE YOU LEAVING AMAETHON-?! "

   Startled enough already by the young cat's tears, Morien takes a moment to process what exactly they yelled. The moment he does he reaches up to help them wipe away their tears, worriedly fussing over them as they start to cry harder from his lack of response. 

"Of course I'm not leaving! Ze, where did you even get the idea?"

   Sniffling and hiccuping as they try to calm down Morien's words do little to reassure them, their face the very definition of distraught at the thought of him leaving.

"T..Tywin ap Maelgwn said that..- that when you grows up, a..and finish the Def..- Deffroad Enaid - you're gonna leave 'cause you hate me and you're gonna fight the bad people that hurt your eye and..- and never come back -!"

   Feeling his heart break from their words Morien immediately pulls them into a hug, holding them close while reassuringly rubbing their back. Murmuring into their hair he speaks with conviction, his voice steely with anger at the thought of how long the child could have had this thought hurting them.

"Tywin is just a jealous ol' toad that doesn't like anyone, and I promise you he and I are going to have a good long chat over this. I'm not going anywhere ."

   Nearly falling back from the force of them moving to look at him he smiles at the startled look on their face, stray tears still leaving their eyes but not diminishing the hopeful spark at all.

"You mean it? You're staying-!?"

   Chuckling softly Morien reaches up and ruffles their hair, smirking as they whine and smack at his hand. Sitting back he crosses his legs, his hands resting in his lap.

"Of course I am. How could I leave, when I'd be leaving fy brawd neu chwaer bach behind?"

   His words are met with a dumbfounded look from Ze, the small cat hybrid clutching their shirt absentmindedly. Slowly a bright smile overtakes their face, the sun shining with the bright look they're giving him. 

"I..I'm family?"

 "Of course you are. We're family, and family protects each other."  

   The air is knocked from Morien's lungs as Ze slams into his chest, hugging him tightly before pulling away and yelling for the chuckling blond to stay put. Rushing around the white haired youth searches for something, shushing their older brother whenever he tries to ask what they're doing. With a cheer Ze finally finds what they're searching for, snatching it up from the base of the tree the duo had been sitting under before rushing back over to the puzzled mooshroom hybrid. Gently taking strands of Morien's hair they start to make a small braid, their tongue stuck out in a patented cat blep from their intense focus. Finally finishing they smile up at their older brother, showing off the braid bound with Forget-me-nots. Sticking out their pinky they offer it to him, giving him an adorably serious look that keeps being broken by a smile.

"Promise! Promise we'll be family forever, and that we'll protect each other till we're both super old and wrinkly!" 

    Glancing between the offered pinky and Ze's face, Morien feels his heart melt from the look they're giving him, vowing within his mind that he'd die to keep that smile on their face. Humming in amusement Morien links his pinky with theirs and nods, his tail flicking behind him betraying his true excitement.

"I promise on my honor and the power of the Ffyniannau Ffyniannus , I'll always be here for you. We'll be family and protect each other till the end of time. So mote it be."

   Tugging the younger child forward Morien hugs them and moves them so he can mess with their hair. Gathering up some hair and extra Forget-me-nots they didn't end up using, he makes a braid for them to have as well. Cheering over their braid they pull him onto his feet and drag him towards town, rambling about wanting to show the braids to everyone who'll listen. Swinging their joined hands Ze smiles up at Morien with a big toothy grin.

"When I grow up, I'm gonna join the city guard, so I can be as big and strong as you mrawd mawr ! We're gonna go on a bunch of adventures, and be best friends always!"

   Laughing happily at their obvious excitement and conviction Morien nods along. Swinging them up he sets them on his shoulders, answering with a bright happy grin of his own.

" Wastad, fy brawd neu chwaer bach. Dwi'n addo. "

_______

     Numbly staring at the simmering flames Morien slowly leaves the depths of his mind due to a new feeling, detachedly noting it's supposed to be physical pain. Looking down he shakily opens his right hand, everything coming to a halt in his mind at the sight of a small white braid. Reaching up with his other hand he touches the braid almost reverently, moving the metal bead on its end away to reveal a burn on his palm. A brand. A reminder of his failure. As tears leave him and land on the word burned into his skin a small part of him chuckles at the morbid irony of his ghast tears awakening. Of course it'd be now, after his true need for them has already passed.

   Taking the braid with his free hand, Morien lifts his previously wounded one up in order to see it better, using the fire of the nearby fireplace to see clearly. Staring up at him, almost mocking him, is a new scar that will stay with him till the day he leaves this world. A single word. A broken oath.

Wastad .

Always.

Chapter Text

Tachwedd 9th, 2024

    Preparations had doubled in intensity the past 5 months. It had taken the heartbroken Young Gaffer nearly 3 of said months to recover enough mentally to continue, and the moment he did he hadn't stopped moving. Sleep was a mere memory as he'd taken charge, fueling the town's outrage and thirst for revenge with a deep intensity. With every town the enemy destroyed, Amaethons forces captured another supply caravan, cutting the enemy off from many of their sources, or destroyed enemy camps. A constant grapple for control of the playing field.

    Crates upon crates of potions had been prepared through a joint project of the Alchemists and Doctors, filling the stores of the guardsmen barracks and the medhall. Most if not all guardsmen have been fully trained, through the help of Morien, Manon, Rose, Grigor, and Hafgan. The villagers have finished practice evacuation drills, farmers have finished gathering their crops early through the heavy use of bone meal, smiths and minors have finished preparing weapons and armour and are working on gathering minerals for repairs, and the last of the supply shipments are nearly in the city docks.

    Obtaining approval from the council and the families of the victims, Mehefin 21st had officially been declared a memorial holiday. The moment confirmation of the holiday's creation had met Morien's ears he hadn't left his study beyond going to his workshop, his mind overrun with designs; any thought of self-care nonexistent. He had to make it perfect. Something worthy of all the ones he'd failed, a monument to last generations. A project to help him forget after everything is said and done.

"Hngh- Shit-! "

   A loud clang of something metallic and heavy hitting stone echoes loudly amidst the sound of loud frustrated cursing. Shaking one of his hands out Morien snarls under his breath, pain and anger clouding his mind. Stepping away from his anvil the blond breathes in deeply as he tries to calm himself down, memories of Clara and Hamfast teaching him breathing exercises coming to mind and helping him steady himself. Leaning back against a workbench Morien runs his uninjured hand through his hair, looking his hurt hand over and wincing at the sight of the newly forming bruises on his knuckles.

" Gaffer Ifanc? "

    Looking up, the mooshroom coughs awkwardly and tucks his hand out of sight, calling out for the person outside to come in. Noticing the nervous looking soldier walking in behind the messenger Moriens welcoming demeanor diminishes, immediately leveling the lieutenant with a soul chilling glare. Calmly gesturing for the messenger to leave the intimidating blond stares the soldier down with his arms crossed, the tense silence making the poor sod fidget under Morien's piercing gaze. 

"Do you know why you're here, Lieutenant Murray?"

   Flinching from the sudden sound of Morien's curt voice the Lieutenant shakes their head, glancing away nervously. Still feeling his glare pierce them they look back towards the young gaffer and clench their fists at their sides, silently hoping a verbal response will make the leader believe them.

"N.. Na syr, nid wyf yn gwneud hynny- " 

"In Saesneg , Lieutenant."

"No sir- I..I don't know why I'm here sir."

   Scoffing at their audacity Morien pushes himself away from the workbench so he can stand at his full height, internally patting himself on the back as the soldier fearfully steps a few steps backwards away from him. Walking around them slowly with his hands in his pockets he gives them a feral grin, challenging them to say something when he smacks them in the back of their head with his tail.

"Tell me, Lieutenant. Before you left on one of the trade ships like a coward , Who gave you orders to station your squadron in the South?"

"A..A letter, sir-"

    Stopping in front of them Morien sneers, his temper rising due to the soldiers' ignorance. Silently sending a prayer up to the deities to grant him enough sanity not to strangle the Lieutenant for the decisions that ultimately played a part in one of the worst tragedies of his life, the blond channels every bit of common sense he has, knowing damn well Clara would chew him out later if he were to harm the fool without present cause.

"The letter you received, telling you to move your men South. Where is it?"

    Shaking slightly the Lieutenant reaches for a small side satchel, pulling out a wrinkled letter with a broken seal on it. They pass it to Morien while quietly explaining their side of the story.

   "We ehm..we were headed to the North East sir. But just before setting off, a messenger stopped by and gave me this. The letter looked official like, told me to move everyone ta the South instead- figured perhaps a different group had been sent North in our stead, s..sir."

    Tuning out the rambling Lieutenant the young Gaffer examines the letter closely, an unsettled look gracing his face when he notes the wax seal. Black, almost blue in hue like one would note of obsidian; the wax of mourning in place of the usual red meant for business. The wolf amongst stars crest of the Descendants of Gwenydd pressed clearly upon the wax. Fenris's crest. Glancing at the still rambling soldier he raises his hand to force them to stop.

  "Lieutenant, if you manage to survive this war, the first thing you're doing is sitting in for lessons on seal etiquette. Get the fuck out of my sight."

    Taking the harsh dismissal as the small blessing it is, the Lieutenant stumbles out of the workshop as quick as they can, almost dizzy with euphoria over the fact that they're still alive.

    As the escaping soldier contemplates their plans for early retirement, Morien stares at the letter in his hands with a worried frown marring his normally cheerful face. Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose the tired blond leaves his workshop to head to Fenris's study where his father will hopefully be, the letter clutched in his hand tightly.

" I need a fucking drink. "

_______________

" Hen Gaffer? "

    Glancing over a half moon shaped pair of reading glasses, sharp yellow eyes look up at a messenger standing at the nearby door, prompting Fenris to set down the papers he's reading. With a gesture from the old wolf the messenger speaks up again, their words making Fenris raise a brow in curiosity and confusion.

" Gaffer Ifanc wants to speak with you sir, he's on his w-"

"I'm already here Lillian, you can head off for your other duties now. Thank you."

    Forcing his way into Fenris's study Morien waves Lillian off, waiting till she leaves to close the door. Turning to face his father Morien ignores the concerned look he's given over his ruffled and worn appearance in favor of throwing a crumpled letter onto the man's desk, crossing his arms as he waits for the wolf hybrid to look at it. Sending his son an unimpressed look over his glasses Fenris snatches up the letter and slowly studies it, his brow furrowing in confusion and alarm at what he sees.

"Is this-"

"The letter the Lieutenant received a few months back? Yes. Look at the seal."

    Turning the letter over reveals the seal is a crest. A wolf twisting its body around a clutch of stars pressed into black wax, the sight of the seal and the meaning the obsidian wax holds chilling Fenris to the bone with dread and grief. Taking his glasses off he folds them and lays them on his desk, rubbing his face with a weary sigh while clutching the letter tightly.

"This..this is bad, pup. Worse than we first thought."

   Sighing softly Morien sits down on an extra armchair, his hands clasped as he lets his head hang. Sitting in a tense silence for a time the blond eventually raises his head to look at his father, his eyes sharp and icy with inner turmoil.

"How did they get ahold of that seal?"

   Fenris takes a moment to answer, studying the letter closely with a grim look. When he finally answers his voice is rough, speaking volumes with unsaid words about just how much this whole mess has torn at him.

"Cadfael. I told you of him and his father, yes? Gwydyr likely took some things when he was forced out- wouldn't be surprised if Cadfael now owns a Gaffer Seal. Could be how our communications keep getting diverted or compromised."

   Cursing harshly under his breath Morien stands up and starts to pace, chewing on one of his thumbnails while deep in thought. Watching his son pace Fenris speaks up while moving some papers, checking over the seals in a drawer of his desk to see if any were stolen.

"What of the supply ships?"

"Nearly here, should be docked by first light tomorrow morning."

"And training the new recruits?"

   Scoffing at the question Morien stops his pacing to give Fenris an incredulous look. Raising his hands he starts to tick things off on his fingers, his tail flicking angrily behind him as he riles himself up.

"Like putting a paper bag on a dog's head. Fucking idiots have no common sense, no teamwork, spines of sand, and some even refuse to learn any form of beginners first aid! I'm about ready to rip my fucking hair out-"

   Grunting in discontent Fenris relaxes in his chair and strokes his short beard as he listens to Morien rant about the newbie recruits he had been helping Rose and Grigor train, examining his son's ragged appearance with clear worry. The blond's skin is pale, almost sickly looking, forcing his scars and the bags under his eyes to stand out. With every shine of sunlight through the window the sleep deprived mooshroom winces while continuing to speak, rubbing his temple with a low growl of annoyance and pain. His tunic is wrinkled and stained, one sleeve rolled up while the other is down and falls past his finger tips, too large for him to be wearing without sleeve garters. Ink stains his finger tips, signs of him fidgeting obvious by the ink smudges on his face. Bruises splotch the skin on one of his hands, his knuckles inflamed. Despite his haggard appearance, Morien has kept his hair as tidy as possible, his braids especially. Tucked on the left side of his face are two small braids- One being blond with a wooden bead, while the other a mix of blond and a gentle silvery white with a metal bead on its end.

    Feeling the weight of his fathers concerned gaze Morien stops his rant short and fully faces him, sighing softly while sitting back down in his chair. Running a hand through his hair he tries to give Fenris a reassuring smile but it barely reaches his eyes. Sensing the fussy dad speech he's about to receive, the blond tries to reassure him through his words, pulling up the brightest smile he can manage.

"It's fine, tad. I'm fine. I've been keeping myself busy-"

"That's precisely why I'm worried, Morien."

   Letting his smile falter, Morien huffs and reluctantly gives in, giving his father a blank look while reclining in his chair with a bored air.

"Alright, fine. So I haven't slept in a while, it's fine- I've almost finished the memorial anyways."

"The memorial can wait a day lad, we cannot start construction until after everythings over-"

"You think I don't know that? You honestly think I'd build it now only for those Forsaken sacks of ravager shite to come here and destroy it? Thank you very much for the vote of confidence your highness. "

" Morien Heulyn -"

"U..Uhm..sir..s?"

   Turning their heads to face the new voice interrupting their rising argument, father and son settle a little at the sight of an alarmed messenger at the door. Taking the silence as permission to speak they deliver their message, nervousness obvious in their tone.

"The Forsaken have started to gather and move closer. Master General Ffion has stated they may arrive outside our borders in a week at most. What are your orders, sirs?"

   Exchanging a quick look the wolf and his son nod to each other, silently agreeing to set aside their current argument for now. Grabbing some paper and a quill Fenris starts to note things down while speaking up, humming in agreement with anything his son chimes in with.

"Bring this to Ffion, tell her to prepare the guard. She'll send word to everyone else to prepare their stations."

"And make sure no one finds out yet. Silence is key, in case the enemy has ears among our ranks. Tell Clara she'll know what she needs to do"

  Signing the missive, and passing the quill to Morien so that he may sign as well, Fenris folds the message and grabs one of his stamps to make it official. Noticing Morien is standing to seemingly rush off to prepare, Fenris catches him by his wrist and looks up into his startled eyes with a sad pleading look.

"Please, fy mab . Take at least the night for yourself. We have time to prepare, you do not need to drive yourself into the dirt before the battle even begins. Perhaps stop by the medhall, grab some things to help your hand?"

   They stare at each other intensely as the young Gaffer debates with himself internally. Evidently deciding to agree for now Morien simply gives him a nod, gently tugging his arm out of his father's grasp before leaving. 

    Waiting for a few moments till he's sure he's alone, Fenris stands and approaches one of his bookshelves, perusing the old looking tomes until grabbing a seemingly random book. As he returns to his desk the sound of his study door closing and locking echoes in the room, prompting him to speak without looking up from the book in his hands.

"Is it done?"

"Yes sir."

"Go ahead and sit down, Murray. Full report."

The Lieutenant .

    Sitting down where Morien was just sitting mere moments ago the soldier sighs tiredly, emotional and physical exhaustion evident as they pull out a small map from a side satchel and lay it on Fenris's desk while giving their report. 

"Villages 3, 4, and 6 have been completely eradicated with wolf pikes mimicking the enemy's own calling card in place. 5 and 7 were destroyed by the enemy far before we even arrived. No witnesses, no survivors. Reports have not been slipped to the Master General or Young Gaffer as per your request sir."

   Hesitating for a moment, the Lieutenant speaks up softly, interrupting their own report to ask something that has been troubling them from the beginning of this endeavor.

"Sir? Pardon me for asking but..are you sure what we're doing is right? T..There was no evidence of spies in any of those villages, and to destroy them and blame it on the enemy behind the council's back-"

"Do you value Amaethon, and the people who call it home?"

   Startled by the sudden serious question the Lieutenant stares for a moment, eventually responding with a scared and bewildered tone.

"Of course I do sir, this is my home. I just-"

    Seeing Fenris slowly stand they quickly shut themselves up, staring up at the carefully blank face of the old wolf hybrid fearfully. They're startled by the sudden smile they're given, usually sharp yellow eyes staring down at him with surprising warmth.

"I understand your fears, Murray, for they are fears I myself have. But you must trust me ladd. You are doing your people proud, you're keeping everyone safe. I asked you to keep your silence because I do not wish to put more pressure upon the shoulders of my son, and in doing so I put pressure on you instead. For that I apologize my friend."

    Standing quickly to face the Gaffer they nearly slam their knees into his desk, excitedly speaking with a fist over their heart.

"N..No sir, it's alright! No pressure at all, I promise, this all has been an incredible honor! I don't want to let you or Amaethon down sir-!"

   Chuckling softly Fenris reaches out and takes their hand in his, shaking their hand as he spins words to spur their devotion on.

"I'm proud of you. Go forward with my blessing my friend, take time off to spend with your family before the end of our hard work comes."

"Y..Yes sir! Thank you sir!"

   Leaving the room quickly with a happy smile, the Lieutenant misses the sight of Fenris's smile leaving his face. Sitting down with a weary sigh, the wolf hybrid clutches his head in his hands, wincing from small trembles of pain that shoot up from his bandaged limbs. 

For the good of the people, He reassures himself in his mind.

For the good of Amaethon.

________________

"Morien?"

   Pushed from his thoughts at the sound of his name, Morien turns to face where the voice called from, smiling softly at the sight of Hamfast approaching him. Before he can speak he's pulled into a tight hug, his father holding him close. Sighing shakily he lets himself relax in Hamfasts protective arms, closing his eyes when he feels his back being reassuringly rubbed. Eventually pulling away from each other the mooshrooms smile at each other, the older of the two gently fussing over his son's exhausted appearance.

"How are you lad? I've hardly seen you with everything that's happened and all the preparations we've all been fussing over. Are you alright?"

   Grimacing from the question the blond shakes his head, sighing in defeat while rubbing the back of his neck. 

"To be honest? No, da, I'm not. I haven't been okay since..since.."

   Grumbling with frustration he waves his hand as if gesturing away his troubled thoughts, accidentally revealing his bruises to his old man. Hearing a startled gasp the blond immediately catches on to what he did, hiding his hand while blushing in embarrassment, hastening to reassure Hamfast that he's fine.

"I'm fine Ham, I mean it- Slipped up this morning working on the memorial, caught my hand with my hammer."

   Studying his son's face for any sign of half truths Hamfast eventually nods, giving his son a rueful smile while pointing a thumb back towards the end of the hallway he just walked from.

"Fine, I believe you. Can we atleast get you patched up a bit, lad?" 

"As long as you don't tell Mum, Dad, or mam , sure."

    Chuckling over his son's words he leads him off to the medhall, quickly grabbing some supplies before leading Morien to the sitting room in front of the fireplace. Gently cleaning his son's hand with a cloth and a small basin of water, Hamfast gets to work, humming a small tune he learned during his time as a traveling doctor as he applies a cool healing paste to the bruises. Wrapping Morien's hand with some bandages he speaks up, his voice soft and thoughtful.

"Fenris told you to take a break I take it?"

    All he receives is an angry scoff, his son making his thoughts known on that scenario. Sighing and smiling sadly at his son's behavior he makes the upset blond look at him, his heart breaking at the sight of the ocean of warring emotions shining in the lad's mismatched blue eyes.

"Just promise me one thing. Whatever you decide to do tonight, please, keep yourself safe. Don't wander far, and make sure you don't mess with anything too dangerous. Agreed?"

   Morien hesitates, studying his father's tired face for a moment. The man has a few new strips of white in his mane of fiery red hair but not enough to truly notice unless you know him well. His normally well trimmed face is now covered with a medium red beard with smatterings of white betraying his age and the levels of stress he's been under. His ear cuff is gone, likely stored safely somewhere in his room above the tavern. Smiling sadly Morien finally gives him a nod, speaking up with a soft tired voice.

"Only if you promise to do the same, Hen ddyn. "

   Chuckling quietly Hamfast nods and tugs Morien into another hug, closing his eyes with a tired yet content sigh.

"Promise ya ladd. Let's get some sleep tonight, aye? But only in a little while. I'd like ta just know you're safe for a bit."

   Morien nods against his father's shoulder, hugging him back tightly with a small smile.

   Calm. Safe. Peace, if only for a little while.

________________

   The soft sound of ice gently hitting glass hums against the walls of the dark study, faint light from the moon shining through a nearby window and a few decrepit candles making the whisky in a tumbler glow a comforting yet dangerous amber. Lifting the glass to his face Morien drinks while lifting a piece of paper with his free hand, intently studying the rough sketch of a statue on its surface. Setting his glass down the worn leader moves his gaze towards his reflection on the tumbler, his gut twisting at the sight of the dark bags under his eyes; the scars on his face standing out harshly against his pale skin and the shadows from the candle light seeming to drape him in a cloak of grief and loneliness. He had tried to keep his promise to Hamfast, truly he had, but nightmares had plagued him most of the night and he couldn't think of any other solution besides drinking himself numb. Quite ironic really. One day he's fighting a tyrannic alcoholic, the next he's becoming an alcoholic himself. How quaint.

"You've fallen pretty far, haven't you Big Man?"

   Refusing to lift his gaze from the glass for someone he knows isn't there, he desperately tries to block out the feeling of ghostly touches gracing his hair. Clenching his jaw and balling up his fists on the armrests of his chair he mutters in response, his words sharp and biting.

"Shut up . You're not here, what would you know-?"

   The soft woeful chuckle he receives in response hammers against his skull, almost mocking him in his drunken state of mind. Scoffing and cursing under his breath Morien grabs his glass and empties it in one large shot, immediately reaching for an almost empty bottle of wisgi Cymreig to refill it. A hand covered in burn scars stops him, forcing the blond to look up at a ghost of his past that until this moment he had refused to spare a single thought for.

    Sad brown eyes meet hazy and frustrated blue, making Morien immediately look away from the massive wave of guilt and grief that hits him. Tugging the bottle closer to himself he turns his body away while pulling out the stopper, murmuring softly while filling his glass.

"You forfeited the right to look at me with eyes like that long ago, Tubbo ."

    Sighing softly, the brown haired moobloom walks around the room slowly, seemingly studying the different things decorating the shelves nearby. Dragging his fingers across each book he speaks quietly as he approaches Morien's desk, the blond silently noting the lack of footsteps that should be following the mooblooms steps.

" I think it's been long enough that I've earned that right back. Hmm..I wonder how the others would react if you sent a letter... "

   Seating himself on the ground in front of the upset mooshroom after bringing up such a tempting thing,Tubbo gives him a small mournful smile, his hands clasped in his lap. A small yellow bloom forms in his hands for him to fidget with as he speaks.

" Face it. You miss me, don't you? You miss all of us Tommy, no matter how poisonous we all were, no matter how badly we fought. This place has become too much like home. Hasn't it? "

    Morien opens and closes his mouth as he tries to formulate some sort of snarky response, eventually giving up with a snarl and taking a sip of his drink. Setting his hand on his desk with the glass still in it he forces himself to stare Tubbo in the eyes, giving the brown haired president a wide mocking grin while gripping his glass tightly.

"I don't. Why would I miss a treacherous bastard? Why the ever living fuck would I mourn a bond you yourself broke?  You sent me away, You decided you had enough of me, and YOU HAVE NO GODDAMN RIGHT TO CALL ME BY THAT NAME-! THOMAS CRAFT DIED THE VERY MOMENT YOU LEFT HIS FATE IN THE HANDS OF A FUCKING LUNATIC-! "

    By the end of his rant he's towering over Tubbo and screaming with a righteous vitriol, his grip tightening more and more on his glass with every accusation. Without warning the glass gives in to his anger and finally shatters in the blond's hand, mildly sobering him with pain as many of the shards stab his flesh and alcohol seeps into his torn skin. Closing his eyes and stumbling a bit Morien falls onto his knees, tilting forward tiredly into Tubbos shoulder as all energy leaves him. Trembling faintly the broken man starts to quietly cry, the steady drip of his blood echoing in the empty room along with his tears. Muttering fervently yet grief stricken Morien feels hands gently rub his back reassuringly, a small voice within screaming at him not to get too comfortable with someone who he logically knows shouldn't be there.

"Damn you, God fucking damn you, Toby- You would've known what to do by now. We were perfect, the best team there ever was. Why did you give up on me-? " 

    His desperate question is only met with a damning silence, the lack of response prompting the now sober blond to open his eyes. 

    What was once, in his mind, an old friend's shoulder that he was crying on is now the side of his desk. Gently fluttering from a breeze coming from a nearby window are a few leaves and flower petals on his study floor, the only sign anyone had seemingly been with him. Realizing he is well and truly alone Morien simply let's himself slide from his propped up position onto the floor under his desk, curling in on himself with a faint whimper. Reaching up with his non-bleeding hand he clutches his hair, shaking as he tries not to break again. He quickly realizes he can't stop the pain from coming when the feeling of warmth starts to flow down his cheeks and onto the floor. Slowly giving in he starts to softly sob, hiccups and shaky gasps making his entire frame tremble and shake. He curls his tail around himself in an attempt for comfort, slowly and unknowingly sinking deeper into his mind as he begins to start crying himself to sleep.

   Perhaps one day, things will not wear on his mind so harshly.

   Happiness feels like such a distant memory now.

Chapter Text

Tachwedd 14th, 2024

"You asked for me, Rosey?"

    Standing tall in the doorway of the kitchen Hamfast wipes his hands with a rag, soot smeared on the skin of his hands and face. The sight of his older sister standing tensely in front of the sink facing away from him stirs worry in his heart, and without hesitation he gently pulls her away from the running water to smother her in a reassuring hug.

   Holding each other tightly in a tense but reassuring silence the twins block out the world, the younger of the two worriedly wondering about what may be troubling their normally boisterous twin while the other basks in her twins familiar presence, her mind racing as she tries to muster up the words to express what's going on. Eventually pulling away Rose gives Hamfast a thin pitiful attempt at a smile, reaching over to turn off the running water they'd both forgotten about before reaching up to rub her eyes with a soft sigh. 

"Ham..Do you remember what Father told us when we were younger, about our family's purpose?"

  Frowning slightly as he racks his brain for what she's speaking of, the traveling doctor eventually nods, reciting the words he'd heard so long ago almost as if they're from a textbook.

" 'As my children you have inherited a sworn duty to not only Amaethon and her people, but to the wolves who have led us since this city's birth. You are the Shield that keeps the Gaffer safe, no matter if you do so by shield of wood and iron or of flesh and bone. When the time comes you must drop your chosen path, and though I do not enjoy pushing this fate upon you, you must protect them with everything you have; even if it means your soul must meet our forefathers in the ancestral halls beyond.' "

"And of course in the case of there already being a Shield sworn in to protect the current reigning Gaffer and extra protection is needed there's the Swords but..Rose, I don't understand- what does that have to do with anything? Are you.. Are you not-"

   Shaking her head quickly Rose hasens to reassure him, noting the growing nervousness mixed with steely resolve in his eyes.

" No . I would never push something like that upon you Ham, not so suddenly and not without planning ahead with you first. When Fenris calls everyone to arms I will be by his side as his Shield, just as I was during Gwydyr's Uprising."

   Sighing shakily the tired General closes her eyes, whatever thought that's coming to her mind dredging up a pained expression upon her face. 

"It's Morien, Hamfast-"

"Morien? What happened, where is he-"

"He's fine Ham, he's at the lighthouse right now, but that's not the point-"

"Not the point? The hell is he doing there alone-"

"Hamfast-"

"What if some of those dark bastards nab him? I mean I know he's strong, we trained him ourselves but-"

"Gofannon's bronze bollocks- Hamfast- "

"Oh Deities above Clara will kill us all if something happens we need to-"

" Dedwydd-! "

    Hollering to catch the panicking father's attention the older twin nearly loses it, panting softly as she tries to calm down. Fists clenched at her sides, Rose bites her words out with clear frustration and hints of fear, the feeling of Hamfast's alarmed gaze upsetting her all the more.

"He's fine you fucking fusspot! Listen to me- What is Morien's official position in Amaethon? The one he was given by Fenris."

   Glaring but complying with her pushy questioning Hamfast answers, his arms crossed over his chest to help convey his growing ire.

"Young Gaffer. By Amaethon law, that puts him on equal ground as Fenris, and in the event Fenris were to pass on Morien would immediately move into the complete ruling position of Gaffer. Gwaednerth put Fenris in the same position when he was young because of the war, which makes sense since he was the old wolf's son and heir anyways. Why?"

   Waving him off Rose leans back against the nearest counter, her hands motioning in front of her as she gets worked up talking.

"I'm getting to that. Now think- The Gaffership and our Shield oath to said ruling position, they're inherited are they not? They're passed down from parent to child, they have been for generations. Who are Morien's shared parents, Ham?"

   Startled and confused over what point Rose may be trying to make Hamfast blinks as he tries to think quickly, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. Reaching up he strokes his face in thought, almost all traces of his previous anger lost in the depths of his confusion.

"Well us of course. You, Me, Clara, Isengrim, and..and Fenris -"

   Gasping the wolf's name, the traveling doctor's face pales with fear as he's hit with several realizations, the sad understanding look on his older twin's face driving all of his fears home.

"The Shield oath- Ffion , if Morien learns of it-"

"He will the very moment I'm sworn in again as Fenris's Shield Ham, there's no avoiding it-"

"He'll never let us do it- The moment he learns of it he'll try to swear himself in as his own Shield, he'd never in a million years let any of us take up the mantle to keep him safe "

"There's nothing we can do about it now. He's either one, none, or damn it all- both . All we can do is prepare him the best we can."

   Clenching his teeth Hamfast turns away and begins to pace, cursing under his breath while running a hand through his mane of untamable hair. Chewing on the nail of his thumb as he sinks into his thoughts the panicking father speaks almost absentmindedly, images of a younger blond mooshroom laying limply in his arms the day they saved him flashing through the doctor's mind.

"I refuse. I'd rather die in his place than lose him, I..I can't- Rose we can't lose him, you know how selfless he is- Cadfael likely knows of him now, there's no way in hell he doesn't have something planned to get rid of him-"

Grabbing Hamfasts shoulders in order to stop his pacing, Rose gently squeezes them as she speaks, tears threatening to leave her eyes as matching fear filled green eyes meet.

"Hamfast- you need to be absolutely certain. If it comes down to it, are you completely willing to take a fatal blow aimed at his back? Will you die for him, so that he may live? Even if the pain of your loss may break him?"

  Shaking his head in denial Hamfast looks his sister in the eyes with a barely hidden fear, determination hiding it well. His voice is rough with pain from the thought of what may come to be and unconsciously he reaches up to cling onto Rose, his mind seeking comfort.

"My death won't break him. Morien will hurt, I know damn well he will. And there's a good chance he'll hate me till the end of his days and even beyond. But he's strong- and I will gladly die for him, even if it means he'll despise me for it."

   Chuckling wetly through slowly falling tears Rose pulls her brother into a bone crushing hug, tucking her chin on his shoulder. Tilting her head just enough so she can lightly knock their horns together she murmurs softly, stern yet loving as she's filled with growing hope for their son's future.

"You underestimate just how much you mean to him, you old fool. You better keep both of you safe or I'm going to revive you just to kill you myself, understand me?"

   Nodding against her shoulder in agreement Hamfast chuckles softly, turning his face away to hide his tears. Reaching up he tries to wipe them away before stepping back from the hug, smiling reassuringly. Before he can speak there's a knock at the door and a stressed looking messenger steps into the room, their appearance ruffled with clear signs that they've been rushing around.

"My apologies Master General, Ser Dedwydd, but Lord Fenris has summoned the council- It's time."

   Not waiting for a response the messenger turns and quickly leaves the room, leaving seemingly to deliver more messages. Catching Hamfast's arm before he can rush off, Rose speaks with a soft, determined tone, her eyes sharp with confidence in the abilities of herself and her kin.

"I'll speak with Fenris, my armour is already in my inventory. Go get ready- we'll have time to prepare since Morien is still outside of the city."

   Smiling softly with a nod, Hamfast clasps Rose's forearm, tugging her into a quick hug before rushing out the door. Sighing softly Rose cleans up whatever she had been doing before her brother's arrival before rushing off towards the direction of the War room, equipping her armour as she speed walks down the winding hallways.

   Neither sibling notices the form of a short figure sitting nearby, a single eye watching them leave in a hurry. Sighing softly they gently set a tankard down on the table before standing and leaving at a leisurely pace, feeling no need to rush and waste energy. 

    "Youth and their need for dramatics, honestly."

________________

    Wind gently ruffles long blonde hair, forcing it to flow in the air behind a lone figure standing at the top of the lighthouse. Two small braids frame one side of their face, one of them noticeably a lighter color than the other. They're dressed in heavily enchanted diamond armour, two axes strapped on each hip along with a string of potions and small satchels on their belt, a cloak made of dark blue fabric flowing in the wind with their hair. The figure has their eyes closed as they slowly breathe in the sea breeze through their nose.

   Morien Heulyn. Son of Fenris, son of Ffion, son of Hafgan, son of Isengrim, son of Dedwydd, Young Gaffer, co-leader of Amaethon, Thrice blessed by the deities.

Oath breaker .

    Opening his eyes Morien stares off into the distance with a dead look, any semblance of life absent from his eyes. Memories haunt him from the past, ghostly touches on his hair and the faint smell of ash fighting for his attention, the smell of the sea winning over his senses with each moment he takes to calm himself. How long would it take for them to have peace like this again? Just how much will it cost them all?

…..

   If he fails, will those he's lost welcome him in the halls beyond? 

   Has he earned the right?

   Sighing softly Morien tries to calm down, forcing himself to push back all the dark thoughts plaguing him. Staring at the docks below he lets himself sink into more gentle, happier memories, a faint smile making him look far younger than the stress torn leader he's forced himself to become again.

   They would win. No gods clad in green to tilt the balance this time.

   Abruptly knocking him from his thoughts Morien turns his head at the sound of someone approaching, accepting a missive from a messenger with a blank look. Reading it over his face turns grim and serious, eyes dark with mixed emotions. Giving the distant sea one final look filled with longing, the Young Gaffer sighs, nodding to the messenger before making his way down the stairs of the lighthouse.

Let the games begin.

______________

   The moment he steps through the door of the war room Morien's hit with a large wave of sound, major and minor officials representing different factions of Amaethon's side of the war chatting in groups. Approaching the map table he nods at everyone present, smiling softly at the sight of his parents and grandmother decked out in the best armour that they could forge. 

"What do we have?"

   Grimacing at the question Grigor speaks up, his hand tapping a nervous rhythm against the hilt of the axe at his hip. The shield on his back frames him perfectly, making him look like some of the warriors of old in his enchanted armour.

 "Not much I'm afraid. One of the ravens caught sight of them gathering to the North, just past the forest bordering the fields. Near the river Severn."

   Approaching from the sidelines to speak up, walk Fi and Rae, both serious looking in their armour. Rae's is much like everyone else's, though with some custom designs of plants and deer mid jump engraved into the metal. An iron broadsword can be seen strapped to their waist along with a string of potions. Fi has a secondary layer of armour made of their navy blue shulker armour plates, an iron broadsword strapped to their back along with a bow made of dark oak. Both have their hair tied back, though all of Rae's horn decorations have been stored away. Fluffing up their colorful wings behind them Rae speaks up, a gentle yet grave look on their face, their fangs peeking out from their lips in a small snarl as they think of the struggle ahead.

   "The shop is ready and most of Amaethon's civilians have been evacuated to the tunnels underneath, Fi and I shall stand guard and listen out for any signals alerting us to send everyone through the nether portals. The safe houses in Alban are secure and ready if need be."

   Fi nods in agreement with their companions' words, their arms crossed over their chest. Giving them both a small appreciative smile Morien nods and turns his head to an unknown subordinate, prompting them to speak.

"All troops are situated, equipped, and ready to set out Young Gaffer. I've sent some of the ravens out to try and get an estimate of the enemy's numbers, with the help of Madam Clara. I-"

   Approaching quietly from one of the side doors come Rose and Hamfast, Rose moving to stand near Fenris while Hamfast moves to stand near Morien and Clara. Giving eachother a subtle nod they tune in to the conversation that has been going on without them, waiting to see when will be the most opportune time to interrupt.

"-Grigor, are all our bases covered?"

"Aye lad, all bases that we can. Our forces are small, but the people of Amaethon have always been hearty folks- we'll pull through."

   Humming in thought Morien nods, turning his attention to Isengrim, Hamfast, and Clara. Taking the silent invitation to speak Clara steps forward, giving a double report due to her two stations with Isengrim chipping in as her technical higher up, due to him being head doctor.

"All Ravens have been notified of the coming battle. Some have decided to continue to help, they will give us reports on where any injured may be on the field so we can send crews out to bring them to the medical tents- this method may only work in the beginning though I'm afraid depending on how the battle goes. We may end up too short staffed to heal folks let alone carry people over."

"All tents have been stocked with supplies, beds prepared, and golems set up to help protect the patients. I do agree with Clara's statement about staff, we're going to need all able hands on deck once this is over with."

    As Morien listens to the two doctors' reports, he barely catches Hamfast moving to stand with Rose a little ways away from the table, though he certainly notices once the noise starts up.

   Catching the attention of some of the others in the room, whispers spark up, drawing everyone's attention towards the twins standing side by side at the front of the table. Satisfied that everyone has seen them, the twins take out their weapons and stand tall; Rose brandishing her spear, while Hamfast holds an axe with a vaguely familiar looking shield. With her head held high Rose addresses their leader first due to her being the eldest of the twins.

"My Gaffer. As I once was long ago, I once again offer myself as your Shield, though I bring another with me to serve you as well. My brother offers himself to be the Shield of your son and heir, Morien Heulyn ap Fenris, if you would so allow. Do you accept our service?"

   The Old Gaffer analyzes them for a moment, sharp yellow eyes examining them for any visible faults. Nodding once his voice is calm, almost calm one would say if it wasn't for the obvious seriousness of the occasion happening before their eyes. 

"I accept. You may give your oaths, may your word hold you till your last breath."

   The twins keep their faces carefully blank, even when Morien moves to stand next to Fenris with quietly murmured questions. Feeling Fenris's piercing gaze stare into her soul, Rose speaks up with a steely determined voice, words flowing from her mouth in the old tongue like honey from an overflowing hive.

" Rwy'n rhoi fy enaid i chi, fy Gaffer. A gaf i eich amddiffyn yn ffyrnig nes bod yr haul yn cusanu fy wyneb un tro olaf. Hyn yr wyf yn tyngu gan y duwiau y mae fy mhobl yn rhegi ynddynt. "

   His face as stoic as ever Fenris draws a strong looking sword from his hip, netherite and diamond combining together to form an enchanted blade worthy of the wolves of Amaethon. Morien's gift. Lifting it he waits for Rose to kneel before gently resting it upon each of her shoulders once, his voice commanding the attention of all present.

"As you once were before, rise again, fy Tarian Tragwyddol. Boed i chi ymladd yn ffyrnig nes i chi gwrdd â'ch hynafiaid yn y neuaddau uchod. So I say, so mote it be."

   Turning his sharp gaze towards Hamfast, Fenris's face softens with fondness for a moment, barely noticeable unless one were to know the Old Gaffer well. His voice soft with concern and wonderment he speaks up, almost hesitant to continue.

"Are you aware of what your choice means?"

"Aye, my Gaffer. I know what I'm getting into."

"And there's no way I'm letting the young fool get into this alone."

   Stepping forward slowly out of the surrounding crowd stands Fayina, her appearance striking fear into the hearts of many who see her intimidating visage. Dark metal twists into fierce looking armour around her limbs, helm and all forged with diamond and enchantments of old. Unsheathing a netherite sword from her hip the old mooshroom kneels down on one knee, her hands gripping the handle of her sword tightly as she stabs it's tip into the floor. Bowing her head she speaks with a solemn yet serious tone, her visible eye closed.

" Rwy'n rhoi fy nghleddyf ac enaid i chi, fy Gaffer. Bydded i'm cleddyf dyllu calonnau pawb sy'n dymuno brifo'r rhai sydd yn eich gofal. "

   A stunned silence answers her words, many in the room awed by the event they've unwittingly witnessed. A Shield being sworn in is a big event. Two in one lifetime is uncommon, having been something that hadn't been done since the days of Fenrir, Fenris's grandfather. But a sworn Sword? In the same century as two Shields at that! The last had been long ago- the birth of Amaethon one could say, if they were in any way knowledgeable of the towns deep history.

   Forcing away his awe Hamfast moves to a kneeling position as well, slamming the edge of his shield against the floor twice while bowing his head. Intoning his words with a low rumble, a small smile tugs at his lips from his aunt's honorable actions.

" Rwy'n rhoi fy enaid i chi, fy Gaffer. Boed i'm bwyell ddinistrio pawb sy'n eich gwrthwynebu chi a'ch un chi. Boed i'm tarian gadw'ch anwyliaid yn ddiogel ."

   Smiling softly, Fenris feels love and pride over his co-parent's actions, his confidence that their son will survive this war rising with each moment. Turning to Morien he holds his sword out to him by the hilt, guilt hitting him at the sight of hurt and growing anger behind the blond's eyes. Murmuring softly Fenris tries to speak low for only his heir to hear, quickly explaining just why his family is doing what they are.

"They do not do this to insult you, fy mab . They know you're strong. But you must understand, we would do anything to keep you safe- even if that means we must die to do so. Will you accept their oaths?" 

   Staring into Fenris's pleading eyes Morien hesitates, his glare conveying much of how he feels about this entire situation. Warring with his will to protect his family and his wish to not insult the oath his father and grandmother have offered him, the conflicted blond eventually reaches out to gently grab the offered sword, staring at the carvings of wolves and rabbits with a soft look. Turning to face his kneeling family with a carefully blank face his indifferent facade nearly cracks when he realizes just what they're all wielding. 

   Every weapon he had made for their first Christmas as a family was in their hands, proudly brandished with a confidence he didn't know they had. Almost as if they truly trust the things he had made them to keep them safe. Breathing in a shaky breath Morien finally relents and steps forward, lightly tapping Hamfast's shoulders with Fenris's sword as he speaks, his voice resonating throughout the room with a steely yet confident tone.

"Rise up, fy Tarian Iachau. Boed i chi ymladd yn ffyrnig nes i chi gwrdd â'ch hynafiaid yn y neuaddau uchod. So I say, so mote it be."

   Before anyone can speak up Morien turns to the still kneeling elder mooshroom, exchanging acknowledging nods with Fayina as he towers over her. Lifting Fenris's sword once again he swears her in with the same steely tone.

"Rise up fy Cleddyf y Duwiau. Bydded i'ch cleddyf dyllu pawb sy'n bygwth eich pwrpas. So I say, so mote it be."

   The moment he utters the final words a large cry rings out, several in the room cheering over the historical events happening before their eyes. As chatter echoes throughout the small room Morien hands Fenris his sword without looking at him, his gaze focused on the two mooshroom standing tall in front of him. Looking into their unwavering gaze with anger swimming in his eyes a small part of him huffs in his mind at the defiant looks on their faces. Fighting to hide how impressed he is by their drive to keep him safe, the blond steps away, speaking over his shoulder before leaving the room. Many of the rooms inhabitants leave as well, spreading out to continue preparations for the battle ahead.

"..Give me a few minutes, then you can give whatever bullshite excuses you've drawn up. I'm going to warm up."

   Catching Hamfast before he can run after the upset blond Fenris shakes his head in response to the upset glare sent his way. Speaking softly the old wolf gives the traveling doctor a small sad smile, gently holding the mooshroom's arm.

"I'll talk to him. He'll understand in time, fy mlodyn , we just need to be patient."

    Huffing in disagreement Hamfast almost doesn't catch the nickname he's been given, immediately blushing slightly from the wolf's bold choice of words. Hamfast hardly let's himself hope, the sad understanding in the Gaffer's eyes making his heart clench painfully in his chest.

"F..Fenris - you.. do we-?"

    Chuckling softly Fenris gently tugs the flustered redhead into a hug, murmuring softly for only him to hear. The sight of Isengrim smiling at them and Fenris's words nearly send Hamfast over the edge, tears threatening to leave his eyes at what he may be being offered.

"I've been a fool for far too long, Hamfast. Will you talk with us, once everythings over? Isengrim and I both have much to tell you I'm afraid..Things we should have said long ago."

  Hugging Fenris back tightly Hamfast nods against his shoulder, pulling away in order to wipe at his eyes and smile at his old friend.

"Yes..- of course I will you old man, now hurry up and talk to our son before he does something foolish aye?"

   Humming in amusement the Old Gaffer nods, squeezing one of Hamfast's hands before casually leaving the room to follow after Morien. As he leaves neither his husband nor their friend notice the wolf glance and frown at his hand, the bandages covering it loosened just enough to reveal a small patch of splotchy purple and bruise-yellow skin. Quickly moving to fix it Fenris tries desperately to ignore the fact he can hardly feel himself tugging at the bandages, the lie of good health he's strung around himself weighing down upon his shoulders for a brief moment. Lifting the metaphorical mask he's constructed for himself with a tired sigh just barely passing through it, Fenris smiles as he walks down the empty halls, occasionally nodding in acknowledgement towards anyone who rushes past.

________________

   Reaching the courtyard of the barracks the wolf is met with the sight of Morien brutalizing an innocent straw filled training dummy, the young leader's axes glinting in the light of the midday sun as he takes out his frustrations on the poor training equipment. Silently he waits for the chance to approach, his heart sinking at the sight of what could possibly be tears on his son's face. 

   Soon enough Morien slows down, panting while stepping away from the damaged training dummy. Taking this brief chance Fenris walks closer, but before he can speak a word Morien starts to tear into him, his voice sharp and cold.

"5 years. I have been living here for nearly 5 years now, and one would assume I'd be trusted, yes? One would think that the people I have come to know and cherish would fucking trust me by this point, just as much as I do them.

And yet. And yet , once again, you all have decided to wait until someone forces your hand before telling me something important. It took a madman destroying towns and threatening war for you to tell me that at any given moment my family will willingly sacrifice themselves to keep me alive, just because of some fancy title that I didn't even fucking want. "

    Turning his body so he can fully face Fenris Morien can't even bring himself to glare, simply standing with an air of tired acceptance.

 "Can I go one day without this pressure you all love to toss around so much? I don't need you to die for me, I need you to live long enough to be old, wrinkly, and fucking annoying. "

   Fenris stares in stunned silence, quietly collecting himself before he answers. Stepping closer he gives Morien a small sad smile, clasping his hands behind his back. Bowing his head he talks softly, his eyes focused on his shoes in guilt and smatterings of shame.

"The amount of apologies we owe you are innumerable. I can hardly begin to make it up to you. But..Can I promise to try, pup? I'm old, and set in my ways. It has been a long time since I've had to work so closely with anyone and I'm not used to trusting someone with so much. I can only promise you to try."

    Hesitating for a moment Morien slips his axes back into their holsters, staring at his father's bowed head as he considers the man's words. Huffing in annoyance the blond holds out a hand, glaring at Fenris to dare him to protest as he speaks with cold seriousness.

"No more secrets. No more last minute reveals, like whatever the fuck happened during the meeting. Agreed?"

   Glancing between Morien's hand and his face Fenris hesitates for a single second before clasping his son's hand, shaking it once with a gentle smile.

"Agreed, fy mab. No more secrets."

   Pulling his hand away Morien finally gives his father a smile, pulling the old wolf into a hug. Chuckling softly the mooshroom squeezes him, pulling away with a questioning hum.

"When do we set off?"

"Be ready in an hour. Grigor has already set off to make sure our troops are gathered outside the town, the ravens have been saying something about the trees falling in the rushing waters so we can assume they've reached the outskirts sooner than we first thought. Go find Hamfast and Fayina, keep them with you at all times."

   Sighing in mild annoyance Morien nods, opening his inventory to make sure his items are situated. As he's checking supplies he glances at Fenris with a raised brow, stern from the thought of his father setting off alone.

"And you? Where are you headed?"

  Fenris smiles at his son's protectiveness, clapping a hand onto the lads shoulder while resting his free hand on the sword at his hip.

"I'll meet you on the North Eastern side with the rest of our troops, that's where Cadfael and his Fallen are estimated to be approaching from. Stay safe, aye?"

   Rolling his eyes Morien smirks, placing a hand over Fenris's with a chuckle.

"'Course. Those bastards won't know what hit them, trust me-"

   Chuckling over the blond's confident enthusiasm Fenris smirks, teeth bared in a grin to match his heir's energy. Sharing a quick hug they split off, walking in opposite directions to prepare.

   Promises are such fickle things when one believes in the Greater Good.