#hrid clan matters

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

It took a long while before Svangeir could sleep that night. He spoke to Taxir mostly to resolve his feelings around Cedrik, but of course the clan ended up in the way.

Its not too surprising. After all the two are tangled together. Cedrik was the ideal mate they wanted, and as it seems that there is something between them of course they would push the issue further. Only... in so doing it was driving the two further apart. Whether or not he likes that, the fact remains that the clan needed to be dealt with.

Being a mix of viera and miqo'te the clan did not adhere strictly to one or the other's customs rather it was a blend. Since Cedrik pointed it out, he understands that the people are a bit confused. The issue, however, was that he made himself very clear:

He was not going to sire. Svenja was his last kit and he was not going to take a female to bed. He had Maverick and A'kiva and that was all he was going to have. He reaffirmed this after Maverick's passing, and A'kiva was all he had left. They knew this. He fought them over this. Evidently it wasn't enough.

Well, it was going to be enough.

On the morrow he called for a clan meeting. And at Cedrik's advice, included F'yire, G'laice, Dion and Astvaldur - the heads of Diajik's former tribe, as well as Ruvhari'a and F'alcon to act as guards for his mate and daughters who would also be in attendance. On his back, was his gunblade. On his hip, his gun. And on his face was an unimpressed look. He addressed them:

"Today you have a choice to make," he says without preamble, "either accept me as your leader or choose another weaker member to take my place."

There's a ripple of a murmur through the clan, and he feels a few confused eyes from the tribe behind him. It was Gunnar of all people however, who asked, "I do not understand. Why?"

"I told you the day you elected me as your leader what my stipulations were - Maverick and A'kiva were to be the only mates I took and I was not going to sire." There were several flinches but most remained unaffected. "As we are not forced to live under the rules of either Seeker tribe or viera customs I have decided to embrace the ideas that you would be free to choose whom you wanted to mate and how - whether it would be permanent or not, so long as both parties had no conflictions over it.

"As your leader I had assumed I too was allowed to make my own decision on the matter. After all, I would not enforce it if I did not believe or practice it myself." Someone tried to call out to him but he spoke over them, coldly. "Clearly it is not the case. You do not like A'kiva. But more than that you have time and time again tried to force him out and now have tried to bring Cedrik into it, heedless of my own thoughts on the matter. That ends now. Pick."

It was silent for a long while before Njala speaks. "It would help, I think, if we knew who is to be clan head after you."

"It would help if he would stop coddling his whelp." Njala hisses her mate's name, and both Svenja and Flopsy bristle ready to jump in, but F'yire and Vhari both shake their heads. Svan remains impassive. "You have had ample time to train him. We gave you that time and you have done nothing with it."

He doesn't want to have this conversation here, infront of everyone. He doesn't want to compare his mate to the few boys he'd had to raise, no, discard, left to the wilds to die because they couldn't bring themselves to kill even an animal. He doesn't want to explain that he knows A'kiva would never be able to bring a weapon or spell against another person, even in defense. He doesn't.

"I am trained," A'kiva says. "Y' jus dun care for it." Her face curls into a snarl. "I can heal. I've dun so for plenty of you over the past year and so. I know how to make tonics, but also how to make poisons and gases and how to use them." He blinks. "...I can use a dagger." And that seems to startle many. He said dagger not a knife. A weapon, not a tool. "I ain't good at it, and I've never used it, but I know where to stab and how.

"But I'm not like Svangeir. I'm not like Cedrik. I can't do the things Flopsy does, nor have I been trained like Svenja is. And that is what you want and what I cannot be." Now any way. Svan believes with time his mate could. He does not know if he could bring himself to let him. His reaction to Taxir's suggestion is telling enough but... "And Svan's fine with it." More than. "And he's who matters."

There's much he could say here, if Svan wanted. He could say that they are hindering any attempts at him and Cedrik rekindling. That they are who is driving them apart. He could say that he has no feelings for his former mate. That he gave him up, had begun to move on, is still moving on and they're making matters worse. He could say they have hurt him deeply by their disregard of his desires. That he gave up much and that he wanted to have this.

He doesn't. He doesn't want to bring Cedrik in to this because it isn't fair to the older man. He is not to blame. And he doesn't say anything because ultimately they do not care. It wouldn't have gotten to this point if they did. Its a waste of his breath. So he stands there, impassive and unyielding.

"And we do not?" And that was the wrong thing to say.

"Your opinions on my mate do not and have never mattered. I do not owe any of you a damn thing. I did not even want this position but took it believing that as the one amongst us who had the most experience outside the Wood I could ease you all into this new and scary world. I stayed because my mate begged me to and despite every part of me wanting to just resign and leave you all to your fate I am still giving you the choice to pick. Stop making me regret my decision and choose. My patience is waning."

"Why will you not just take Cedrik and be done with this?"

"My relationship with Cedrik is none of your business."

Before things could get heated the blue haired viera chimes in: "It isn't." And they turn to look at him. "What is between Svangeir and I is for us to decide alongside A'kiva as he is Svangeir's mate and your meddling is doing nothing but straining what we have. We have not been together since before Svenja's birth and since then things have changed. Further, I do not appreciate your attempts of aiding me and tearing down A'kiva and his relationship with Svangeir in doing so." He turns to Njala. "If the clan still wishes for a male to lead there is Gunnar, he is Svangeir's second. If the clan wishes for a female leader there are plenty to choose from."

She nods. "We have our options and our current leader has given our choices. We may stay with him and accept he will not sire another child, that A'kiva will remain his sole mate until he decides otherwise if ever and we will no longer address this going forward. We may pick another canidate to lead us in his stead as he steps down." What happens to them in that scenario is uncertain, but Njalla suspects her son will take his family and leave. "Or," and this is where she has the most interest. "As always we are free to leave."

There is silence only for a moment before A'zehya and several other miqo’te women move. "G'laice and F'yire have already offered for us to join. We will rejoin our sisters in the tribe."

Flopsy moves to stand with F'alcon and Ruvhari'a as the women walk by. He doesn't trust them with his other father but trusts his mate and G'laice will handle them. For now he'll keep his distance.

A few Viera and miqo’te couples stepped forward. "What if some of us wish to stay?"

Svan shrugs. "Be my guests."

With that the clan was split into two. Njala's mate and a few of the women left the grounds. And Svan believes will leave the Shroud all together. She doesn't look back at his dam, he notes. He knows they argued for years over him specifically. And while he was growing he never saw what kind of relationship they had. He imagined it was close... but mayhaps not. And while he never liked the other woman, he does mourn for his mother, even if he's overjoyed that she remains with him.

Most of the kits and their moms remain, and with winter approaching he ushers them all to gather warm clothing and blankets and whatever they may need.

"You weren't really going to leave me in charge... were you?" Gunnar asked meekly.

"If they wanted it." Svan shrugged in answer, and Gunnar grimaced.

With that, tensions eased and all returned to their homes, a lighter air upon them. Still, Svan kept his family close, not wanting any of them out of his sight.

That night, Flopsy bade they join him and F'yire and his kits. And Svan couldn't refuse. It was a tight squeeze for all of them but they managed - F'yire and Flopsy with the former's kits from S'yal cuddled into them, F'alcon and Vhari and their kit not too far, G'laice on the other side of F'yire and whom he pushed his daughters and A'kiva to, his mate's mom and his sister near them, and he and his mother within reach.

A large sprawling family of viera and miqo’te.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

After getting his mother and Svenja settled he ported back to Diajik’s village. As he told Inxli and Aerulian he was going to spend the night with A'kiva before coming back to a hopefully blizzardless Ishgard.

Upon entering his tent he is greeted by sleepy yet fearful eyes. Svan dressed down and let himself be pulled into his trembling mate for a moment until he calms.

Kiva had a nightmare of the voidsent last night and was thus afraid of having on tonight. Svan's presence does little more than comfort, but Kiva feels better.

When the trembling stops he slips away only to bring out the little Tapir Inxli had gifted him to help with the nightmares and the creature trying to leap out at the small miqo’te through them. Kiva was a bit wary at first, but the sponge silkie seemed to like it and the tapir was cute. So they all laid down to sleep, the silkie snuggled in Kiva's neck, the tapir curled between them and neither had poor sleep that night.

Upon the morrow, Svan had a problem. He was to be back in Ishgard, snow permitting, to help train with the knights alongside Vhari, but A'kiva had clung to him, not wanting the older man to be away all day. There was no safer place than within Diajik's wards.

Thankfully, good news arrived in the form of a warmly dressed Xynal coming to collect his children.

"You can stay with us," the Duskwight said, and his eyes seemed to... glow. "Our house is heavily warded. Enough so, that I may even be able to give Diajik and Inxli both a run for their gil." With reassurances from Xynal, saying that Aerulian and Bram and G'rahn would not mind, as well as Vuhne and Grian and Sindri wanting to have Uncle Kiva around it was settled. For the duration of the next few weeks, Kiva would stay in the Badeaux household.

Svan and Kiva and Xynal and his brood met with Vhari and the men and women they had chosen at an outpost in the Shroud just before the boarders of Coerthas to march together. Svangeir made sure his mate was dressed warmly in a thick coat and that the tapir and silkie they were bringing with them too did not freeze atop his chocobo.

He wasn't sure if Xynal or Ruvhari'a were warding off anything as they went but he was grateful to whomever was. And even more so to have several dragons and a suspicious fae fly above.

They all made it to Ishgard without incident, and Vhari and the other soliders separated to their own lodgings as Xynal guided them through the streets of Ishgard.

Though Svan and Kiva had been there several times for both Glitter and Story Halls they still gained stares. But then, so did Xynal and Grian and Vuhne... Xynal didn't seem to let it bother him, though he kept his children close.

Still, when inside the comfortable home, Svan will admit he breathed easier, and couldn't help but give a soft smile as Vuhne happily dragged Kiva to a guest room, Sindri on her head and Grian not far behind. He and Xynal followed at a more leisurely pace.

"If your little friends need company," Xynal starts, "Waddles and Bram's own silkie and pigs will enjoy the company." The tapir seemed delighted as Waddles came in, curious, and greeted it, but the silkie, Svan noticed had its little paws dug in next to Kiva. The little mousy creature seemed to have taken a protective liking to his mate.

The Duskwight turns to him. "And if you and Svenja and your mother wish to stay with us, they too are welcome." Svan nodded as Xynal herded the children out for them to get settled in. He at least, was going to take up on the elezen's offer.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

Grievance

When Cedrik first came to he saw the ceiling of a tent. That was odd. Wasn't he in the forest? He doesn't remember coming back. Vision blurry, confused and exhausted he closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.

The next time he awakes he feels he can move. As he tries to sit up he feels a hand push him back into the bed. "Lay back down," he hears from a familiar voice. "The healers would be cross with me if I let you sit up."

Cedrik looks over and sees Njala, Svangeir's mother a smile on her face. He was in the healer's tent. He lays back down, looking wildly about. Last he remembered he was with Svan and - A'kiva, the kit. Where...? "What... happened?"

Njala looks serious as she gets comfortable in her seat. "My son brought you, A'kiva, Loki and a small kit with him from the woods. Taxir, Durriken and the Matriarch were attending to Ruvhari'a's family and were ready to receive you.

"From the report Svangeir made you both were being chased by voidsent on your way back to us when you suddenly fell, likely due to blood loss. My son was able to hoist you upon his back and carry you the rest of the way. Were it not for Xynal's timely rescue, guiding G'laice, Svenja, and Sanskir to you, you all would have been lost..."

There's a warmth in Cedrik's chest, even as he says, "He should have left me behind."

Njala scoffed. "My son yet cares for you even if he may not love you." She nods over to her right and Cedrik found an empty chair with his eyes. "Since you all have been brought here he has not left save for when he is needed."

"A'kiva and the kit are here then? Are they well? Whose kit was it?"

"A'kiva is alive. His fever broke this morn. As for the kit..." She pauses. And he fears for the worse. "Once the tribes have quieted and all were accounted for, we looked to see who could be the parents. The kit belonged to no one. She has no family.

"Svangeir is out currently doing another round of checking but..." Cedrik nods. She smiles and stands. "I will leave you to your rest." He watches her leave and then closes his eyes, the peace and quiet helping him drift off long before Svan returned.



When Cedrik wakes again there is no one by his bedside. He thinks its late as it feels dark in the tent, lit only by a candle. His eyes catch something, however - a glint of metal. It was an arm. A metal arm. Attached to a fair skinned dark haired viera male. Svangeir.

The man was slightly slouched in his chair, arms crossed and head bowed, asleep. Cedrik's eyes soften. The man no longer considers them mates, but he will always think of Svan as such. His beautiful black swan.

He's startled to hear a sharp cry and watches as Svan wakes and swiftly rises and goes to his right. He follows him and notes his mate goes to a bed... a crib... the kit.... and watches as he picks her up, rocks her slightly and then goes to get a bottle to feed her all in practiced movements.

He imagines the man doing this to his daughter Svenja - and with one arm at that - making a sharp longing rise up in his chest. He missed it. All of it.

He couldn't take Svan with him. They had young bucks, just on the cusp of majority panicking, upset. It wasn't a good environment for his wounded mate to be in, and even if they were older and able to help, they had to be on the move. It was better for Svan to stay in his birth village.

Initially he tried to stay in the area. He wanted to make sure his mate was going to live, that another bear wouldn't come attack, to visit his mate perhaps, especially. He was denied. Repeatedly. Even with Njala trying to vouch for him. Eventually he had to move, the bucks were getting restless and he knows his mate would put them first. Always such a caring soul to young ones...

And so he did and he mourned. Not in that his mate was dead, he knew him. Svan would make it. But he mourned the loss of his presence, holding him, talking to him.

He wished he could have seen him with his daughter. Seen his daughter at all. See if she looked like him, like her mother, a mix. He wanted to see Svan.

But with him having to send his mate away for fear of his life... perhaps it was best. Perhaps... it was his punishment. He turns over, not wanting to see anymore, be lost in memories and what ifs and tries to fall back asleep.



He awakes the next day to see A'kiva in the chair, holding the kit. Its a viera he notes, with white hair and slightly floppy ears. A'kiva smiles down at him. "Yer awake." He nods and tries to keep his eyes straying from the chair he last saw Svan in. "'Ow're y'feelin'? D'ya thin y'can eat sumthin?"

"Am I allowed to sit up?"

Kiva seems to ponder that. "I thin' so."

The man sits up, feeling a bit weak. He turns just in time to see Kiva stand and limp over to a table, adjusting his hold on the kit to pick up a bowl before returning and handing it to him, spoon already in it. Cedrik takes it, keeps his eyes on it and focuses on spooning food. "Have you eaten?" he asks.

He doesn't look to see if Kiva nods. "Yah. 'Bout a bell ago."

"Are you well?" He asks these things mostly out of obligation. He doesn't hate A'kiva, though he doesn't know him well enough to truly like him. He's just... upset. From last night and his thoughts.

"We're alright... Loki's alive... th' kit is well an' I..." A'kiva pauses. "I can walk." That's good. And he says so aloud, but despite just eating he isn't heavy from the food, but his heart. "Are... ya alright?" No. No he wasn't.

Aloud he says, "I... am tired." A lie.

A'kiva takes his mostly empty bowl from him. "We'll let ya sleep." He's sure he's given a bright or hopeful smile but he can't look at the smaller male right now, nodding and laying back down, curling up on his side. He hears the tent flap open and close and he assumes the male took the kit so she wouldn't wake him.

He curls away from the door and tries to sleep with some success.

He wakes perhaps a bell or two later, facing the chair that is now occupied. Its Svangeir. Cedrik wants to be happy to see him, but all he can feel is deep sorrow.

"How are you feeling?"

He turns over onto his back with a quiet sigh. "I am fine." He glances over and notes that Svan is wearing half a shirt, exposing his stomach... and some bandages. He's not sure what makes him say it, either sadness or guilt but, "You should have left me."

"I refused to." And Cedrik is unsure what that's supposed to mean. Did he feel grateful for protecting A'kiva? Did he feel he had to as clan head? He knows what he wants it to mean but Svan made it clear he wants nothing to do with the older buck. And he respects his younger m- ...He shouldn't think of him like that.

They remain quiet for a short while. Cedrik still refusing to look at the other male, feeling his heart sink ever deeper. All that he would want to say, he has said. "Just because we are no longer mates does not mean I don't care for you still."

Cedrik feels his face contort into a snarl and he turns away from him. "I did not make that decision."

"Cedrik-"

"Leave. Just... leave..." He waits, feeling Svan's eyes on him for several breaths before his ears hear the man stand. He watches him leave through the tent flaps and its then and only then he curls up tightly and allows himself to cry.

He isn't sure how long its been when he feels another presence in the tent. His eyes immediately drift towards the opening and it is Njala once more. "...Svan asked you to come here."

"He did," she agrees, seeing no reason to hide it. She sits in the chair beside his bed. He doesn't move. "He says his presence upsets you."

He scoffs. "Of course it does. How can he claim he yet cares when he was the one to push me away? Still pushes me away!"

"That is not how Svangeir sees it. You know this. We asked him to die to our people, to us, when we bade him leave. True, twas for his life, but that does not make his feelings of betrayal and hurt any less real."

"I was going to follow him. The moment the bucks under our care were well enough to live on their own I would leave and not come back."

"Did you tell him thus?" His silence and his flattened ears spoke for itself. "He had no reason to believe you would come for him," she says kindly. "He made peace with the idea you no longer loved him, though that is not the case."

And now he has A'kiva he thinks. A man just a few years old enough to be considered a budding warder who he loved and protected dearly, who he would leave the clan over for. He tries not to think of him as either a kit or with bitterness. He wasn't the enemy and it wasn't his fault. He has no control over Svan's feelings. He should move on, but he... can't. He promised Svan forever, that his hair and tail didn't matter - he'd love him all the same.

Njala is quiet for a moment. "I will tell you this and what you do with said information is up to you: Svangeir yet loves you. Mayhaps not as a mate, but he would not yet have feelings for you, good or bad, if he did not care. He may never take you back as a mate, but you will not win him back, mate or friend, unless you come to terms with A'kiva and ease Svan's worries with the clan."

He glances to her at that. He had little qualms with getting close to A'kiva. He was giving the miqo'te space because it was obvious he made him uncomfortable, but what was with - "The clan?"

"While the clan is more tolerant of A'kiva, should you wish to persue a relationship with my son, they would not hesitate to demand A'kiva's presence removed."

Cedrik frowns. "Svan would not stand for that and neither would I. He makes him happy."

"But they see you as the more suitable mate."

"...Why are you helping me?"

She raises a red brow. "You love my son as much as A'kiva does and I know how hard it was for you to give him up not once, but twice. If you joining them brings them and you all happiness, so be it. If they are better off with out you, then I pray my words give you peace." She stands as Dion comes into the tent to tend to him, leaving through the flaps, but with the silloette he sees outside, remains close by.

He answers the miqo'te's questions when prompted but for the most part is left to his own thoughts.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

Lead

A'kiva wakes and goes about his morning routine. It takes him a moment to realize his mate is still in bed, still asleep, instead of up and about already. Tail flicking he turns, and notes that Svangeir's brow is furrowed slightly. And when he lightly brushes his hand against it he can feel how hot he is. He has a fever.

Kiva frowns. He wants to stay and take care of him. But they both have obligations. And so he makes a wet rag to place gently on his forehead, hoping to cool him a bit before he leaves their tent and goes to his potion lessons, stopping to tell one of the tribe healers that his mate was in need of looking after.

Once his lessons were done and it was later in the day he pauses. Svan forges in the morning and then has meetings if he recalls. He isn't going to let any one wake his mate up when he needs rest. And so he makes the decision to go in his mate's stead.

Were he mate to a proper Nuhn... well if the Nuhn was sick there would be a fight for his position, but as the favorite or mate of one, he could take up the non-mating duties, and he plans on doing just that for his own. They weren't a traditional Seeker tribe. Weren't even a tribe to begin with. They ran on different rules. And A'kiva firmly believes that since his mate cannot lead, as mate to clan head, it is his obligation to lead in his place until he can.

So, head held high he walks to where they were to meet. He sees his mate's head warder - Gunnar if he recalls - and his second, now Cedrik (he tries to not grimace at him, he still makes him uncomfortable). He sees his previous... not quite matriarch in A'zehya, his mother and one of his distant aunts. And finally he sees his mate's mother - Njala -, her mate, the one that challenge Svan over him and lost, Svenja, and another viera female whose name he does not recall. They are unbothered by him. It was normal for him to come to these meetings. But after a moment of no sign of Svan they look to him.

"Svan's sick," he says simply.

"Perhaps we ought to post-pone the meeting," A'zehya suggests.

"Why?" They turn to stare at A'kiva. He forces himself to not curl inwards. "'M 'is mate ain' I? He ain' here, yah, but I can take 'is place fer th' day."

The other parts of the clan look amongst each other. "What he says is true," Njala speaks. "As Svangeir is not here it falls to his mate to take up his duties, does it not?" With that settled the meeting continues.

Like normal, A'kiva brings his own input to the discussion and listens to everyone else's. This time, though, instead of deferring to his mate's judgement, they defer to him. It makes him uncomfortable, but he convinces himself that if he thinks Svan would agree or disagree to the idea, he would do the same.

As the meeting goes on, several others of the clan walk by and stop and stare. Interested. Kiva ignores them and stays focused on his self assigned task. The other leaders of their sects of the clan seemed content with how things were going. Or at least he thought so.

Still he wasn't surprised when someone spoke out about him taking his mate's place. "You are leading the tribe now?" calls out a viera, halting the discussion a bit.

"No. Svan's too sick t' lead. I took up 'is duties in 'is stead fer the day." As is his right.

She hums. "Which means you are clan head then. As such, I challenge you for the position." Of course.

"Svan ain' here. Ya want t' fight fer it, yer gonna wait."

"You're his mate. Accept the challenge in his stead."

A'kiva holds his head high and says soft yet loudly, "Svan dun need th' tribe. He was chosen cus of his strength an' he took the position t' giv ya'll direction in th' new world ya liv in."

When the Viera opens her mouth he continues, "He dun wan it. He stays cus I asked 'im t'." They stare. Kiva feels familiar approving eyes and he fights to not smile. Instead he gestures to his tribe and the young Viera women. "Cus they need it. An' he's th' best one fer it. If ya wan t' be beat that badly ya can wait til ya 'ave a fight." He hears several snickers but keeps his face passive. "Anythin' else?"

Now cowed, the meeting goes on for a few more moments before everyone disperses. Svenja immediately comes up to tell him she was proud he stood his ground on the matter. He even caught sight of Njala's approving gaze, as well as his mother's. He just flushes and says to his... daughter... that he only did what he thought her father would have done and prayed it was enough.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a flash of white and pale and he hides a smile. He knows they worry about him, but he can't help but see G'laice as a brother if not a father-figure. And it makes him very happy to see that the man followed him just to look out for him. He hopes he made him proud.

Once Svenja was off for her own training he returns to his tent, and is both unsurprised and sad that his mate hasn't moved at all. He replaces the rag with a fresh one and sits by the man's side for a while, quietly changing it when it starts to get too warm.

He supposes its been a bell when Svan's eyes finally open before they close immediately afterwards and he groans softly. "What time is it?"

"Late." He hears his mate swear as he tries to sit up. "Th' meetin's are over wit. I took care of 'em." That makes his mate pause and look at him.

"...Did they give you trouble?" He isn't sure if the hoarseness makes his mate sound more menancing or not.

"One tried t' fight wit me o'er th' position. I told 'em if they wanna be beat they can wait til yer better."

The older male snorts, amused and lays back down. He slips a quiet "good boy" and Kiva flushes with a wiggle of his ears. HIs mate doesn't seem upset that he took over, but then, he supposes, Svan wouldn't be that way. "C'mere," the older male says, and happily Kiva curls up with him.

"Feel better?"

"Well I have you back in bed with me. I should think so." Kiva pouts at him as he laughs but just snuggles closer. That isn't what he was asking but he can't help but feel better himself, having his mate's arms around him.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

All Saint’s Wake Hrid Family ED

((Decided to take pics of the whole family... ish))

(From left to right - Svenja, Svangeir and Astvaldur or as Vuhne sometimes likes to call them Mopsy, Cottontail and Flopsy)

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

Svan looked up as Njala, Cedrik and his lead hunter Gunnar approached him. His mother was the first to speak.

"The clan is showing unhappiness in A'kiva being your mate." He knew this. They never really liked A'kiva for him, found him too weak for a proper warder of Golmore. An insult. But he also had Maverick when they were established. And while it may have worked in Xynal's favor for him, Bram and Rulian alone to be together with strong personalities and traits, the clan would have agreed that between Svan, Maverick and A'kiva, Kiva being the weaker one made sense. As a pair, however...

Gunnar speaks up next. "They wish for you to take another." Svan took in a deep breath.

"What did A'zehya say?" he asks. He notes she isn't here. Was she the one to offer up this suggestion?

Njala answered. "She has not put forth her input." So his miqo'te sect is remaining neutral.

He was sure in his answer. It was a "no". It was always going to be a "no". Not unless he and A'kiva wanted another. And he wasn't going to get rid of his mate. This wasn't years ago when they met upon a sandy beach and for a week did they enjoy one another. He claimed him, held him. Had A'kiva as his for moons. The boy wasn't going anywhere.

No. The issue was how to address this. He was voted into this position. He didn't want it then and still doesn't want it now and for this very reason: he has to be F'yire; he has to be Diajik. He has to be Nuhn. He has to present himself as a strong male before the clan and remind him who exactly he is and if they take issue they will leave, he will force them to leave or they need to dethrone him. Of all the issues they could make him do this over it had to have been A'kiva?

Svangeir shuts his eyes breathes out slowly and stands. He does not bother putting on his left arm nor a shirt. Let them see his strength, his wounds and prove a point.

He gathers his clan and he notes that several of Diajik's tribe members are watching. Ever the eyes and ears of a leader, he thinks. He wonders if Diajik too, is watching. If he has heard the whispers of his clan's dissent in his tribe and wonders how Svan will handle it. He knows Brygeot is watching, waiting. The builder he may be but what one builds one can also destroy. Knows how to destroy in the most precise and critical of ways. The weak points in foundations, the kinks in armor. And how to exploit that.

Much like he built this tribe in a way, he needs to improve upon its function and shore up or replace the areas he missed. And if that means he needs to rebuild it from the ground up? So be it. They chose him after all.

Firmly and clear for all of them to hear he says, "I am not letting go of A'kiva as my mate nor am I taking up another." For now, he says inwardly. He isn't going to give them any reason to wonder if he will in the future. If he does, he'll anounce it. "I do not tell you whom you are and are not allowed to mate, sire or marry, provided they do not pose a hazard to your fellow members, and you do not tell me the same. A'kiva was my mate when you elected me as your leader and he will remain my mate until he or I pass."

He pauses and looks to them all and then gestures with what is left of his arm. He may as well deliver the blow to prove a point. "When I lost my arm, my tribe housed me to recover as repayment for having protected them and their kits. The moment I was well enough to move much like any other young buck they forced me out." He refuses to look at Cedrik. "When I returned to my Warder band, my leader told me to leave. Not merely the group but the Wood as a whole on the account of my injury." Or his mother. "My own mother bade me the same." And he can feel the glare Njala's mate is giving him. He does not care. And he says as such: "Their reasonings for why are valid - I would not survive within Golmore without an arm and I would have had a much better life within Dalmasca. I do not care. It does not lessen the blow that I was abandoned by my own people.

Pray tell me why should I do the same to my mate upon said people's orders no less?

No. You may have forced my hand back then, you may have forced my hand to become your leader, but you will not force my hand upon my mate. Your choices are thus: leave or challenge me out of the position. A'kiva is not going anywhere."

With that he turns away and stalks off to his mate's tent where he has lain since they've arrived, still sick with fever. He is horrified upon entering that Lhei is by his side. "Get away from him," he says voice hoarse. HIs mate already has Nophica's favor. He does not want him to be further mired into this Chosen bullshite.

Lhei, Nophica, says nothing, merely smiles and leaves. Svan can't sense a change in A'kiva like he did Taxir, but that doesn't mean she didn't do anything to him. He sits upon the bed and pulls his mate up to rest against his chest. He's still hot, still damp with sweat, brows furrowed in pain, but he feels less hot and his ears are not as tightly clamped to his head. It seems his fever broke. Finally.

He looks up as the tent opens and Njala's mate, his other mother technically, strides in, furious. "Just because your mate was threatened does not give you the right to hurt mine."

"My words are no less true. You infact were one of the louder voices of Hrid to tell me to either breed or leave."

She narrows her eyes at him. "Njala did not lend her voice to the matter."

"She said nothing at all." Which was damning in its own right. "And it does not change her actions nor Cedrik's nor how I felt about the whole incident. I do not care that their reasonings were sound. I said as much. They may not have willingly abandoned me, they may not have said they abandoned me, but it does not change that I felt abandoned by my own mothers and my mate and it does not change that I was."

She shakes her head. "I should have never let her get so close to you." She leaves without another word.

He expects Njala to come rushing in, but instead it is his daughter and she comes to sit with him. "Grammy loves you."

He sighs and rests his head against hers. "I know she does. And I know all too well about how much her telling me to leave hurt her just as much as it did myself. It does little to soothe that wound. It will always feel as if she gave up on me."

Because as they both know, as every Viera knows, once you leave the Wood you are considered dead. And Cedrik and his mother... no matter how well meaning they were had asked him to die.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

Svan awoke to the smell of fire and brimstone and chaos.

The trees and houses the clan lived in were on fire, his people screaming in panic as they evacuated. He remembers what feels like a life time ago of Xynal explaining his vision to them about the End of Days and he wonders if this is what the elezen saw.

No matter. With his left arm thrown on, he and A’kiva and several others began barking orders and rounding up everyone. It is clear they were no longer safe here.

The first people Svan ordered to safety were the kits. There weren’t any of his people who were too old or feeble to not aid yet. That said, he bade their mothers to stay with them to keep them calm and from scattering as once everyone was accounted for they were heading to Diajik’s tribe. His mother’s mate was who stayed with the women and miqo’te as Cedrik and the Warders guarded them from any other threats.

Within half a bell. almost everyone was gathered as the blazes rose. And then Svan saw something that made his heart stop.

The last few unaccounted for, aside for himself and his mother and his lead warder, were A’kiva, Svenja and a viera kit. The three viera adults ran through the mounting blaze to find them and Svan’s green eyes landed on them first:

A’kiva was curled against Svenja and the kit as his ears were pinned back and tail curled in stark fear as he stared down the largest voidsent Svangeir had ever seen. And Svan only knew it was a voidsent from the aura the thing produced. It opened its maw, several times large enough to swallow all three of them whole.

He barely heard Cedrik come up to tell them to leave as the flames began to lick at them. No, Svan was so dazed he didn’t realize he had ran to get between the three with his gunblade drawn as he drew the hells spawn back. What drew him back to the present was A’kiva’s voice calling his name.

The creature infront of him was not dead. Injured and enraged but still alive. A’kiva though, now that he was closer and got to look at him, was injured. Heavily. There was a large stain of blood on his mate’s shirt stemming from his abdomen.

His mother, his warder, and Cedrik had come to join them, aiding the younger three to stand. Though both Njala and Cedrick as well as A’kiva had their eyes elsewhere. At first Svan though it was on the voidsent, but no. He like A’kiva was also injured. He didn’t feel it through the adrenaline.

The shadow creature rushed at them and Svan blocked its flailing limbs from spearing them before pulling the trigger on the blade for an explosive Hypervelocity to force it back as it screeched in pain. Its bellow called several smaller voidsent into existance and Svan took the oppertunity to gather A’kiva in his arms and ran back to the rest of his clan.

They all marched to Dia’s wards. He and A’kiva were the worst in terms of injuries. The rest had minor burns or some problems with breathing from the smoke. They moved as quickly as they could, keeping to the dense forest and making sure all was close.

Dreos was the first to spot them at the edge and by the time they were in the tribe proper, Taxir, Durriken and several other healers were there to greet and treat them. Along with Ruvhari’a to find out information of what happened.

Quietly, as Svenja stayed by his side whilst he was bandaged and healed, Svan told Taxir and Vhari of the attack and what exactly attacked them. From what he and the others could see they weren’t followed. But he told them to warn Diajik and Inxli and F’yire as well as for a possible upcoming attack.

Ruvhari’a nodded and went off to linkpearl F’yire and Flopsy so they could be prepared and then tell Diajik of the Hrid clan’s plight.

He also decided to pearl one of the Twin Adders so they and Gridania could also be alerted. What the hells is going on?

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

“The miqo’te... Svan’s mate. What does he see in him?” Njala looked up at Cedrik who had asked the question.

“Why do you ask?”

“I do not understand why they are together and I want to.” His eyes bore into hers as she levels him with a look.

She sighs. “You are not the first to ask and you are likely to not be the last. Their relationship is unequal: Svangeir is old and a strong warrior. A’kiva is not. From the Warders to his own tribeswomen he is considered weak and he is young, very young. No more than a kit in our eyes.

Like you and many others I believe A’kiva is the last choice Svangeir should have ever taken as a mate, just on those things alone. But like you surmise there is more to the situation that has changed my mind.”

Cedrik looks at her curious.

“It is not my story to tell. You will have to ask my son. What I can say is that A’kiva and his tribe came from a horrible situation. Their leader, their Warder, hurt them all and A’kiva suffered the worst of it. Like I and many of the mothers feared for our own sons when you and the Warders take them, he was lead in ways when he was young that hurt the boy’s survival so that now as an adult he cannot fight, he cannot protect himself.”

Cedrik’s eyes burned with rage. He was old enough to remember his mentor finding such a Warder group and how swiftly the older bucks dealt with the offending teacher. The jungle and forest and mountains were harsh enough without young kits not knowing how to defend and fend for themselves. Even so... “Svan took him in like one would a kit then. That is not a healthy relationship.”

“Nothing about their relationship is healthy. That is how abused A’kiva was. My son is doing his best to fix what damage he can but there are some scars that are too deep to properly heal.” Her eyes then grow distant and the buck follows her gaze to find the white haired Seeker running about, likely tending to errands. “Even so, I cannot fault the boy and deny him from my son. It is not his fault the Veil dealt him the hand he was given. And he knows more than any of us how undeserving he is of Svangeir. And that hurts him all the more.

He pushes himself to the limit; berates himself when he believes no one can see or hear about his age for which he cannot help or his inexperience in some matters which he should have been taught not just to us viera but his own kind. It is one thing for us to think Svangeir deserves better. It is another thing entirely for A’kiva to believe without a doubt he does not deserve him or anyone at all for that matter.

And irregardless of all of that... the more important thing is that he makes Svan happy. And he does. The joy he brings to Svan I have not seen since he first held Svenja in his arm. And A’kiva works hard to make sure my son smiles. He goes out of his way to learn what he can now to aid the tribe. Though he is out of his depth, he gives what insight he can on the meetings we hold. He cannot fight, but he protects our kits just as fiercely as we do. And like I do for my own mate, he ensures my son eats and rests regularly so that he is not weakened.

I do not approve of their match. I believe you or any other Warder is better for my boy. But I am not so blind as to see that despite what I or anyone thinks, A’kiva is good for Svan. And ultimately, that is enough for me.”

A’kiva runs out of sight and Cedrik walks off, presumably to think. As Njala watches him, she wonders if that is good enough for him.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

Cedrik did not follow his former mate towards the territory of the miqo’te. No instead he turned his sights to Svan's clan. He wasn't sure what exactly his plan was.

Well no that isn't true. It was the same plan he had all those years ago when he told Svan to leave - train the kits he had until they were strong enough to fend for themselves then go after his younger mate and watch out for him.

Perhaps he went about it the wrong way. He should've talk to Svan, let him know he was coming after him or even keep him with him until they were able to go together. But... what's done is done. Likely they would never be mates again. Not with how well covered the small miqo'te was in Svan's scent, how protective the man was of the young... buck for lack of a better term. And while it hurt... it was expected. Why would Svan wait for someone he thought he would never see again?

But there were other roads open to him. He could still support his mate by joining the clan. He... had no reason to deny him a place there right? Well nothing to do but try, and join them or not he was going to look out for his black swan.

It was eve when he approached the clan, nearly dark and while he was met with spears and daggers, he was eventually welcomed for the night at least until their leader, Svan, returned to deal with him. And then he saw her, and she, him. Njala, one of Svan's mothers. His birth mother infact. The one who knew he was likely to remain Svangeir and not Svanhildur. The one who he entrusted his mate to when his arm was lost.

She aged beautifully. Her hair was as red as ever though slightly peppered now with silver. She had the same eyes her son has, though brighter. And her name suited her well. Especially for the position of being leader of the warrior women Svan gave her, or more likely, she earned.

She pulled him aside, asking why he was here. And he responded with the truth: "To do what I failed to do in the past - look after your son."

She did not look impressed. "He is happily mated."

"I know. And he never needed me. But I made a promise, even if he believes I've forsaken it."

Predictably that morning when Svan returned he was not happy to see him. The warders were understandably confused by the man's less than welcoming attitude but he let him in. The lead warder had concerns if Svan thought Cedrik would take over and the male answered: "He could. He was my mentor." Which garnered several impressed looks from the younger bucks.

"Svan was the better leader of the two of us." He deflects with. And the dark haired male gave him a curious look but not much more. Cedrik had no interest in taking Svan's clan head position anyroad. That wasn't what he was here for.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

Svan was only slightly surprised that the end of his journey was in La Noscea. It was fitting he supposed. Where it all began, in a way.

He wasn’t exactly sure what V’mavh even wanted with A’kiva. As far as he knew, the man wasn’t related to  his mate’s former nuhn. It didn’t matter though. He wasn’t having A’kiva. And he wasn’t taking his daughter without paying the price either.

Svangeir came to a clearing that was likely a small village at some point if the worn down huts were any indication. His daughter, Svenja, sat, tied next to the least dilapadated one, and V’mahv was near her.

The miqo’te stood and eyed Svan. “Y’didn’t bring ‘im.”

“I’m not here to make a trade. I’m here to get my daughter back.”

The shorter man drew out a crooked dagger. “Y’aren’t in any position t’make demands.”

Not even Svan could say he wasn’t surprised at how fast he drew his gun and shot the dagger right out of V’mahv’s hands. There was a pause of astonishment, and then the miqo’te scrambled to retrieve it, giving the viera just enough time to take aim and deal a near fatal blow with another shot, causing his daughter to flinch.

Svan only looked long enough to confirm the man was indeed dead before tending to his daughter and cutting her bonds. He couldn’t help himself. He held her and was reminded of a time past, when she was small, fragile and no less precious to him. He was reminded of when he, as trembling as he is now he was then when he was first allowed to see her, hold her. Hold one of his beautiful daughters.

She curled into him, almost instinctively, and it is like their bond from 15 turns past, like their reunion upon the edge of Bozja’s battlefield. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

He huffs, waterly. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my daughter; of course I’d come.” He pulls back just enough to see her face. Much like the rest of his daughters, as told by his mother, she takes after her mother with a much more rounded face, soft features and crystal blue eyes. But she has his hair color - a rich deep onyx (only seen by his tribe before when he was born, and likely not again after her) and has his name.

“You love him,” she says weakly.

“I do. He is my mate, and when you find yours you’ll understand. But I love you. I’ve always loved you. Ever since your mother permitted me to hold you. Not less, never less, but differently.

A’kiva is no replacement for where you reside in my heart as you are no replacement for his. You are both precious to me and so is your brother Astvaldur. Never think otherwise.”

As she begins to cry he holds her close, and as if she is still the little kit he once knew he picked her up in his arms. “Come, let us go home. Everyone is worried for you and wishes to know of your safety.”

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

Kiril was right. He struck when Svan was least prepared. He was expecting Flopsy to be attacked, A'kiva. Not his own daughter.

The clan gave him a wide berth. They had yet to see Svan in such a murderous state. His posture was angry; his eyes were cold. He wanted V'mahv dead.

He gave instructions to his warders to defend the clan. A'kiva was with Diajik's tribe. Flopsy with F'yire's. He was going to meet this man alone. And he was going to pay.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

Svan was wishing he didn’t take his arm off visiting F’yire’s tribe. He was getting stares. But honestly? He didn’t want to deal with the burns the heat was going to give him. It was going to be painful, no matter what he did and he didn’t want A’kiva to fuss. ...Not to mention the sand would make cleaning it a nightmare. No it was a good idea to leave it deep in his chocobo’s saddle bag. And he could pretend that part of the reason for the stares was that he was a viera.

Ruvhari’a had spotted them first and led them to the tribe easily. (Thankfully, because A’kiva was fair and likely prone to being sunburned.) Flopsy was estatic to see them, and gave them both hugs. Svangeir was pleased he’d begun to take F’yire’s scent, and even more so when Flopsy was the one to show them around and the on goings currently happening now that the festival was over. His son was at home here.

Perhaps that was why he got the stares as well. Flopsy was very important to F’yire. And father or no, they take their Nuhn’s mate, the source of this new happiness, seriously. He’d believe that if it wasn’t several females sizing him up, perhaps still coming down from the festivities, and several males giving him dubious looks.

What really had him on edge, however, were the looks A’kiva was gaining. His mate had lost the brown he was born with and now had a full head of white hair, not unlike G’laice. There were some who were interested, he could tell. Their interest died swiftly when Kiva turned to not be Nuhn material like G’laice, but a Tia. It made his fur bristle. His mate was not lesser.

“Ignore them,” Vhari said quietly. “They don’t see the value that we do.” F’alcon, Svan guesses, was much the same. For as strong as a defender the red head was... he was very much a Tia in personality. F’alcon, however, has gained respect for being a great fighter in his tribe. A’kiva, especially from his former kin who joined F’yire, didn’t receive the same treatment. And while his mate didn’t mind, Svan took it as an insult.

He lets it go. He knows he chose well. Kiva may be no fighter, but what he lacks there, he more than makes up for in his kindness, his quiet presence, his willingness to aid how he can - with healing. They may not see A’kiva as he does... but they don’t have to. Kiva was his for a reason.

And if he showed a bold Tia that he was the equivilant of Nuhn despite having one arm, made A’kiva immensely proud and eager to claim him as his in front of the small tribe, making them think twice... all the better.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

Svangeir should’ve known that the festival question would not be the last he’d have to deal with it. His clan was fine operating their own ��festivities” either taking the time to produce offspring or abstaining at their leisure. The problem was the outside forces.

Being in the Shroud as they were, they were surrounded by many miqo’te tribes. A good number of them Keeper, meaning there were plenty of solitary Keeper men roaming for women. And sure enough, one such rogue was causing trouble.

Svan pulled away from his forge when one of his men requested his assistance in the matter. That was odd. This wasn’t the first male to have come and most either left peacefully or were run off by either his bucks, his does or the head miqo’te female. Why would they need him?

Coming into contact with the dark haired Seeker, however, swiftly answered his question. The Tia was looking to start or usurp a tribe, found a small group of women he thought unguarded, and was succinctly met with a rude awakening that:

1. They were very much guarded by a band of Warders and his mother’s warrior women

and 2. despite how mixed they were, they adhered to the same systems that Seekers do in part: if he wanted to take any of the women or challenge the notion of a viera-miqo’te clan he’d need to face and defeat Svan.

By the surprised look on the shorter man’s scruffy face, he didn’t think they were serious or that Svan existed.

“I’ve heard from my Warders you wished to see me,” Svangeir called out to him, face impassive, arms crossed, ears perked and tuned to the challenger, tail raised in warning. He felt the eyes of the clan upon him, viera and miqo’te alike. “Who are you to challenge my claim?”

The other snarled. “My name is Y’rhava and you have no claim! Those women are miqo’te!”

Svan glances up at the tree tops where their houses lay and easily finds A’zehya, the lead female. With her stands what little of A’kiva’s tribe that had chosen to stay and not go with F’yire and of course his small mate as well. “Miqo’te or not they belong to this clan and thus are under my protection. If my lead female denied you and found you wanting she has that right.”

A scoff. “You lay with a miqo’te?”

“I do,” Svangeir says boldly, cutting off whatever else the man was going to say by shocking him into silence. “He stands up there proudly as my chosen mate. Had I desire to sire any children, my women, both viera and miqo’te, have expressed that they would welcome me into their beds.” He wished he was lying with that one. “Like it or not, I am their Nuhn. To get to them, you go through me. Either challenge me with the eyes of the clan watching or leave.”

Predictably, the man charged at him. Despite looking like a decently aged man, the miqo’te was little more experienced than Flopsy. Or perhaps Svan was just too skilled by comparison. Either way he drove back the man with ease, and while he knows harsher Nuhns would cripple young Tias if not kill them, Svan had no need of it. Instead he threw the man out of the village and any feeble attempts for him to return were easily routed by the warriors. His job as leader was done.

With little else needing him, he began his return to the forge, only to be intercepted by his young mate with a lashing tail. He raised an eyebrow. Surely A’kiva did not find such a lackluster fight rousing.

Said smaller male huffed at him and pawed at his sleeveless shirt. Svan shook his head. His mate was too easily pleased.

He let A’kiva lead the way to their quarters. It appears he has other needs to meet.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

The miqo’te under his care... his miqo’te he supposes... asked if they would be joining the surrounding tribes for the annual kit making season. ...As did his viera males and females.

(He tried not to be put out by that. He was Nuhn. Was lead Warder.)

He tells them the truth: he had not planned on leading any fertility ceremonies. For one, viera generally did not do such a thing. For another, he’d be expected to be apart of it. He was not siring any kit. He still has 2 he was raising (even if Flopsy was pretty much grown and with a mate of his own now) and even after them he does not think he’ll sire.

Resting atop Svan’s chest was part of the reason why: A’kiva. The other part was that Svan was just old. True he was still strong and likely would remain rather youthful for years to come, but he was tired of siring. He was in the period where bucks like him would settle with their mate and lead the younger ones to breed.

He attempted to encourage his people to join in if they so pleased. And while the viera does wasted no time in choosing their canidates for sires, the miqo’te abstained, a bit wary. He understood, and assured them that if any roaming miqo’te males came by he would drive them off.

As his hand runs through A’kiva’s hair he wonders how Flopsy is fairing. He doesn’t doubt F’yire tended to him before he had to see to his duties as Nuhn. And he doubts his son would be upset over it. If anything the boy would be lonely, he supposes. He prays for F’yire. When he was free, he was likely going to have a very snuggly pink fluff.