• Closed • [Eastern Gauthrel]Pups on their own, Part 3: Shelter

[Varthakh]

60th Ymiden 717

Fridgar was knelt over the mauled body of the beast, dripping blood from his now sated maw. Fridgar sighed, looking over the destroyed carcass of the Scython. A hazy sigh left his moist maw as he relished in the crimson life force of his fresh kill, satisfied beyond words. Yes. Everything about this place made so much sense. You killed because you had to, you didn't take shit from anyone or anything because there was no law, only innocence and instinct. This wilderness, even if it was getting to him, he loved it.

Gathering his senses, he stood, wiping the blood from his matted beard into his forearm. Fridgar closed his eyes, exhaling the last of his rage as the pair recovered from the intense fight with the Scython pack. Physically, he felt good. Even mentally, a part of him was satisfied with his work in securing the kills and finally getting something to eat. His eyes fell upon his beloved, who was still pouting. The other part of his mentality wasn't quite so satisfied.

Fridgar looked to the fallen Scython, casting his eyes to the ground. Shaking his head, he looked back to Alistair and took a couple of paces toward him, "Alistair," Fridgar spoke, his tone softer but still firm. "Alistair, I'm sorry, I just wasn't..." no, stop. No excuses, just apologise. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you, I'm your husband, not your boss," he started, considering the rest of his wrongs for the past few breaks. "I shouldn't be so cold, either. Especially not when I'm preaching about keeping your morale up, I should have talked about it or tried," Fridgar’s eyes fell to the floor again as his fist clenched.

"And I'm sorry that I'm smothering you with my worries, I'm sorry being hardass, I'm sorry for not letting you drink first from the creek, I'm sorry for making you feel bad..." Fridgar trailed off, his voice shaking as he let go of his stress and strength. "And I'm so fucking sorry that I can't protect you, Alistair," Tears ran down his face, mixing with the blood of his kill as he whimpered and sputtered, choking on the burning in his throat. "Alistair, please... I need you, my husband, my Kindal..." Fridgar fell into blubbering like the big baby he was. What was he thinking ignoring Alistair like that? He just wanted him safe and comfortable.

He didn't understand. Maybe the forest was getting to him, maybe he was just using it as an excuse? Either way, he was responsible for this.

"Whether you're still mad at me or not..." he spoke through his tears, wiping his bloodied face into his bloodied arms, only managing to spread the crimson all over his skin. "We need to string these Scython up, find a place to camp for the night," he ceased his pointless sniffling. "I think we should head inland, somewhere in the forest but close to the river," he explained before stepping over to the river and squatting down to the waters. Using his paw, he would wipe away at the blood that caked his arms, then his face, then his torso and legs. He also cleaned his feet and callouses of any dirt laced with his skin.

Done with his half-bath, he untied the meter length of rope with two knots in it from his body before throwing it over his shoulder. He approached the Scython carcass that had been run through the eye and picked that up, too. Alistair would need to carry the other, Fridgar wasn't strong enough.

[Alistair]

When Fridgar had recovered from his ravenous and animal state, the mage attempted to look away from him nonchalantly, as if he weren't staring at him while he mauled down the Scython and ate its raw meat. His eyes, vicious and feral at first, seemed to soften as the bloodied Lothar rose and stepped some paces towards his kindal. Alistair's head stayed turned, not sure how he felt this moment. Bad, mostly. Despite that fact, though, Fridgar was the one who began muttering apologies ceaselessly.

I just wasn't...

. . .

I'm your husband, not your-

. . .

He kept going and going, and the mage felt genuine guilt. He always did this - made Fridgar feel bad for caring. For really, genuinely caring, when others would have just said anything or let him do as he liked, regardless of how it might hurt him. And Alistair... he was the one who had complained about his hunger. Fridgar wasn't making assumptions, he was taking him at his word.

He felt like a shit, a total shit. It got even worse as his mate began to quiver and his eyes welled up, and he lathered blood all over his face trying to wipe up the liquids. The mage grimaced, though not in anger - it was in regret.

"Fridgar, stop," he requested, moving closer to his mate and forcing him into a hug. "Don't apologize. I was wrong -- it was my shitty footwork that had me slide down, it was my short temper that turned what was obviously your own need to keep me safe into something you ended up feeling guilty for. Please... I'm so tired of hurting you, my Thorn." He shook his head. No matter how someone looked at it, his reactions were always extreme, and he was always in the wrong. Fridgar apologized ceaselessly and cried out because Alistair was all he had, and all he wanted - but it wasn't because Fridgar was genuinely in the wrong.

Alistair knew it was him. And he was so fucking sick of it, always being an asshole to everyone, even his beloved. He knew Fridgar took it to heart, he knew he didn't just shrug it off. He loved Alistair, he wanted to see him happy. When Alistair wasn't happy, especially with him, it affected him greatly.

"You do protect me, without you I wouldn't have been able to drink from the creek at all, you don't smother me, you just care... you're only a hardass when I'm being a total tyke, and the only reason I'm feeling bad is because I know I'm being a terrible person to you. You are my husband, but you're also my havendal; you feel responsible of me, you deserve to be able to tell me when I'm being foolish. And I was being cold, too," Alistair admitted, sighing into his words. He was being cold first, after all.

After he accepted - or rather dismissed - Fridgar's misplaced apology... it didn't take long for the realization to set in. Alistair... didn't want to do this trial anymore. Was that childish and immature? Probably. But he felt awful, and he would feel awful the entire way through. He was genuinely being terrible, and playing with Fridgar's emotions. He was reckless and irresponsible with his words, and it kept taking its toll on the one he loved. He was just so fucking sick of it.

"I'm going to find a cave or something. I don't know," he whispered as he turned around to the treeline, brows lowered in anger with himself. His fists were shaking. He was about to blow up again. Again.

Stepping past the brush, he yelled in anger, punching himself in the jaw in a self-deprecating bout of rage. It was Syroa again. It was him. It was his own imperfection, that she'd given him, that he was forced to live with. He was so angry, he didn't want to do it anymore. He didn't want to be like this when Fridgar depended on him so much - this terrible asshole who was always making him cry. He was the one not ready to be a father. He was the one who deserved to be locked up and executed. This was who he was now - not the gallant Lord Alistair Venora, but a fucking stain, incapable of refraining from bullying even his own life-mate for longer than a few trials in succession.

[Varthakh]

As he profusely apologised, his kindal only grew more bitter. It was thick in the atmosphere, carvable with a blade. Though none of it was directed at him. Instead, Alistair directed his fury inward, refusing to take it out on Fridgar? That wasn't an improvement, he might as well have been letting it fester. Alistair hugged him all the same, demanding that he stopped with the constant apologising and declaring himself wrong. The Scython's blood would smear all over his lover's chest as he pressed his body into Fridgar.

"You could never hurt me, Alistair, you know that..." Fridgar returned the hug. His voice had quelled somewhat, though his reddened tears still lingered on his face and the burn of his throat reminded him of why he was sad, but hurt? Not that he would tell Alistair. Fridgar cast his eyes down. Perhaps the excuses he'd been thinking of weren't excuses? Maybe they were more on the right track of what happened? He couldn't let Alistair go on believing he was some sort of villain, it was wrong. "Alistair... You don't..." he shook his head, cutting his sentence short.

"Nevermind..." h spoke, choosing to keep the truth to himself for a little bit longer. Alistair didn't need to be burdened with what had really gone down. He would nod as they agreed on a course of action to take and proceeded to wash himself down with the rushing river water. As he lifted the Scython, keeping his back straight to prevent injury, a yell of anger bellowed from the woods, followed by the impact of flesh. Fridgar's heart sank. "ALISTAIR!!" Fridgar roared at the top of his lungs, pupils contracting to pinpoints with fear and uncertainty.

Without hesitating, he threw the body of the Scython-Ur aside and rushed to the brush. Utilising chasing, he pulled himself to a pocket of ether ahead of him, shrouded in the shade of the canopy and brush. He blinked, appearing in front of Alistair with his back to the noble. Scared, he looked about frantically, failing to find Alistair before tapping into his sixth sense, feeling for Alistair's direction. His heart raced, his head pounded, his mouth was dry and he felt like crying again. Wherever Alistair was, he just hoped he wasn't too late.

...Until his sixth sense revealed Alistair's location... behind him. Fridgar turned around at full force, beholding Alistair in one piece. He yelped, overflowing with joy at the sight of his beloved, all intact. Barely contained and poorly coordinated, he threw himself around the noble, lifting him from the floor with ease before squeezing him tightly in his loving grasp. Fridgar sobbed, truly crying this time as he fell to his knees, hugging his beloved so very tightly to his shaking body as the mad rush of hysteria flushed from his system in the form of sweat. "Don't scare me like that, dummy," he whimpered, burying his watery face into Alistair's neck, kissing plentifully at the Venora's tender skin.

He stayed there, fiercely cuddling his mate against any protests that came from the human. He needed to recalibrate to the fact that Alistair was okay... which could only be manually adjusted with cuddles. When at last the fear and panic died down, Fridgar would sniffle into his mate, kissing him soft and lovingly. "I thought something terrible had happened to you, my rose, please don't do that to me again..." he explained the sudden burst of emotion that he'd subjected Alistair to. When at last he was satisfied that his beloved was safe, Fridgar would kiss the noble on the cheek tentatively before withdrawing from the hug, still holding the smaller man in his arms. "What even happened? I could have sworn I heard yelling? Did you punch someone?" he looked about the woodlands around them, confused. There was no one that Alistair could have punched? What the fuck happened?

"Alistair, I should have told you this sooner..." Fridgar admitted, licking the traces of Scython blood from his mate's chest, tantalisingly. It probably wasn't appropriate, given what he was about to confess, but he was still hungry... sort of. "Back on the hill... I... I got mad at you..." Fridgar confessed, looking to the floor beside them as he considered his next words. "The first thing I thought about when I saw you playing around with your spear was how you should be taking the exercise seriously, and I got mad," he confessed, sliding his arms down from Alistair's shoulders to take hold of his hands. "I feel like a cunt just thinking about it, but it's partially what made me aggressive toward you when I told you to stop messing around," he explained, failing to meet Alistair's eyes or even shift his lips to form an expression that wasn't guilt or shame.

He really didn't like confessing these things, especially when the entire fault was on his starvation and stomach cramps, but Alistair had to know that he wasn't entirely to blame for what happened. "Please don't hate me, okay? I love you so much, Alistair," he begged. "I'm telling you because you've got it in your head that it was all your fault, I know you're feeling bad. Alistair, I'm responsible too," he assured before looking his mate in the eyes. "I shouldn't have ventilated my hunger on you, I'm so sorry, Alistair. I was bottling up my aggression for whatever predator we found at the river, like I explained with the wolves..." it made sense to him, but would Alistair be so understanding? Fridgar looked into the human's eyes, searching for a sign, anything that would give him a clue as to how he was feeling.

[Alistair]

Anger. He had so many problems, so many that Fridgar would never want to see, so many that he felt he could never rid of. Alistair was far from prudent in some ways - he didn't think about the consequences of his emotionally volatile actions these past trials, mostly because he hadn't been thinking at all. In only a dozen trials, he'd argued grievously with Fridgar twice, hurting him and then blaming himself for his mad and untamed anger. It was exacerbated each and every time he blew up, to the point where he wanted to kill things; in this way, he wasn't too different to Fridgar. But most of his anger went to the internal - to himself.

Remorse, of course. He was guilty and angry for doing these things to Fridgar - acting the way he was, pushing him to tears and back over and again. This wasn't long after they'd reunited, and they were already fighting again. Because of him.

But, ultimately, he felt love. He felt so much love, and that was why he felt so strongly. He was not really a child of Syroa's, like he always complained of - he loved, she lusted. He valued Fridgar above anyone in this world, and took no others to his bed, or kept space for anyone else in any notable corner in his heart. Fridgar mattered everything - it was a great part of why each fight could explode so dearly, because he cared. A lot, maybe too much.

When Fridgar yelled his name, he froze, pulling his fist to his side and staring at it with guilt. How could he hurt himself? The worry that would bring Fridg-

Oh. Now, he was being held, suspended above the ground by his lover's strong and incredible grasp. Fridgar was lucky that he was dating a muscular man, a cut above the rest - anyone else of any sex, size or stature would have crumbled to dust in the strength and firmness of his embrace. Alistair felt so warm, here. It was Fridgar's arms where he felt the most safe and happy in the world, with their bodies connected as much as they could muster.

He couldn't be so angry or so hateful in his lover's grasp, not when tears were streaming down Fridgar's cheeks, just wanting Alistair to be okay. Doing anything he could to make him happy, saying whatever he needed to know to help him understand that he was loved.

Fridgar, I... he started, lips beginning to quiver as his nose ran. He felt like a big baby, tears streaming down his face with a desperate sadness so evident that he couldn't even speak through it. "Fridgar, I - I have problems," he told him. "With my anger..." the mage said, obviously. "With my temper... with my pride. I - felt so foolish when you called me out for jumping around, and... I lashed out. I don't know why, I just - I just did," he stated, rubbing his cheeks before wrapping his arms around Fridgar's shoulders and lower neck.

"Honey..." he whispered, trying to think of a response as Fridgar asked him if he'd punched someone. Alistair frowned. "I hit myself, love. I'm sorry. I promise I won't do it again," the noble said, wrapping more tightly around his mate to show just how much he needed him, and how wrong he was. It took Fridgar to set him straight, like always. Alistair wasn't nearly as strong as he thought he was.

Shortly after, his mate began to speak, and licked Scython blood from Alistair's chest. The sensation caused for an incredible blush, as well as a tickling sensation that dispersed his tears and caused for him to giggle madly.

"Ah! Fridgar!" he laughed, kissing his mate whenever he could, stroking his partner at his sides as part of demonstrating the onset of joy that came with his havendal's embrace, and the sensation of his tongue meeting his chest. He tried to calm himself, wiping a joyous tear from his eye as he shook his head, a smile growing across his lips. "It's okay, love. I wasn't taking it seriously, I'm sorry. I just... figured we can always rupture or something if it got bad enough. Or, I could bring in my minions and they could hunt everything within kilometers from us. But I was being silly, this is our trial. It's our moment to prove our skill," he whispered, leaning into his love.

"I love you too, more than anything," the mage replied, groaning in satisfaction amidst Fridgar's cuddles. "I'm going to get help, Frid. I need to get help. I can't live like a maniac anymore, not after all I've done to you. Something needs to change," he said. Then, bringing his head back a little, he waggled his eyebrows.

"Tonight, when we've set up camp and suspended the food and all, I want you to make love to me. It'll be just how you like it - natural, real. Primal. No bed, no sheets, no people to keep our volume restrained. Just you and me, for miles. I want you."

[Varthakh]

Fridgar halted the cuddle immediately upon hearing what or who exactly Alistair had punched. Holding the back of the human's head in his paw, Fridgar pulled back from the hug and looked Alistair in the eyes while his watered, full of hurt and disbelief. What was he supposed to do? Hug and pretend that it was okay for Alistair to hurt himself? Shout at and berate him? Get up and leave? None of the options laid before him made the foreseeable future look bright for either of them. What could he do?

The Lothar shut his teary eyes, holding himself up, he hung his head. "Why would you do that?" he spoke under his breath, considering every thought that flowed through his mind. What might have been a sudden trill of pain for Alistair had taken an icy grip on his heart. He didn't know what to do. What was any man meant to do when their world decides to start breaking itself? What could they do but crumble with it? Had things really gotten that bad? Were things so vicious between them that Alistair would rather hurt himself than speak to his husband? This, he would never forget.

Fridgar exhaled a long breath from his mouth as he hung his head, halting the senseless crying. Wiping his tears into his arm, he spoke "Please don't ever do that again, Alistair." He soon after released the human before pushing himself back to his feet. if Fridgar had owned up to being moody over his hunger sooner, this wouldn't have happened. By the immortals, had that really been what caused all this drama? Fridgar's moodiness? So be it.

He smiled patiently as Alistair explained his side of the story. At last, they'd spoke to one another. "I understand, you don't need to explain," Fridgar nodded solemnly, Rupturing was as an extension of Alistair's being, since he had revealed. he probably hadn't considered how Fridgar had refused to use magic up until he thought he was wounded, at which point he dropped everything. Nothing, not even this damned trial or his pride was more important to him than Alistair's wellbeing. And Alistair was going to get help? All was right in the world, right? He had no reason to feel like he did, it was all going to be okay, after all.

He smiled as the discussion came to an end. "Alright, I can't wait," he spoke with surprising patience, almost delicate. "Go have a look around for somewhere we can set up camp. remember, not too far from the river and preferably with a tree nearby. I'll fetch lunch and come find you, okay?" he would kiss his beloved on the lips and take his hand into his own carefully. "I love you more than anything, my rose, please be safe out here?" he pleaded, resting his head against Alistair's, who stood on the higher ground.

Following a simple nod, Fridgar turned back for the brush and started to walk. He would turn around, if his eyes met with Alistair's, he would smile and wave, blowing a kiss to him as he disappeared through the foliage. he approached the Scython he'd discarded before squatting and worming his paws under it, ready to lift. All the while, he kept his Alistair sense strong and watched as the energy moved away. Once he was satisfied that Alistair was far enough, he dropped onto his behind, releasing the Scython.

He discovered that his body could hold a ridiculous amount of water as he began to cry for the third time, lightly soaking his cheeks as his lips curled, baring his teeth as absolute misery enveloped him. Sobbing followed as he adjusted his legs, bringing his knees closer to his chest. As Alistair's energy drifted even further away, he began to wail, holding himself in solitude while his brain tried to claw its way through his skull, faster dehydrating himself from all the crying he'd done in the past break. Tears streamed, coating his bare body in the glistening remnants of his suffering.

He'd made Alistair hurt himself, this he would never forgive.

His lungs exhausted themselves over and over, running out of air to breathe. He began to choke on his own tears as he let it all out. The horrific pain in his chest was too much, burning through his whole being. This kind of pain, he couldn't handle. He fell to his side as he coughed and sputtered through shrieks of distress, his body unfurled, surrendering to the agony within. Searching within himself, he found the self totem that he'd assimilated prior to the beginning of the trial. He cast a normal transformation, using Chrysalis in a last resort to make the pain go away, to undo whatever damage had been done to him. His skin would ripple as he cried, heralding that the magic had in fact been used, but nothing changed. He still hurt inside. Chrysalis wouldn't relieve this pain. The giant lay there, clasping his chest and absently working his claws through the dirt while crying like a little bitch.

[Alistair]

It was incredibly suspicious that Fridgar wanted him to go off on his own to find camp. Considering his mate had always prioritized protecting him and being there to keep him safe, the Lotharro trying to split up from him to save a meager amount of time was baffling. Alistair's expression didn't change, and he tried to listen to his lover at first, going off... but he couldn't. After he met a certain distance away from him, the mage began to rapidly turn back, running across the forestry to see his lover. He wondered so many things - why was he separating from him? Why did he want him to go away?

Alistair considered, for a moment, leaving this trial and disappearing across the Orm'del Sea. Joining the Empire, becoming a general of theirs or something of the like - conquering lands and leaving behind love. He cared more about Fridgar than anything in the world, but somehow had managed to hurt him time and time again. Fridgar was hurting more often than he'd ever imagined him to, he faced death so many times, and Alistair had to think - it couldn't have been like this before he had gotten there.

He thought everything had calmed down, and he was starting to cool and be happy... but now, he didn't feel anything. Just a hollowness, a despair. Knowing that Fridgar needed to break away from him, knowing that he needed to lie to him, he realized that maybe he couldn't be trusted.

He came back to his lover, and a sight. It wasn't surprising, it wasn't unexpected. It was just... horrific, agonizing, painful. His heart dropped, a painful pit growing in his chest. To look at Fridgar, his havendal, like that . . . Alistair had done so much wrong, he didn't deserve anything. Now, he really didn't want to do this trial. He didn't want to be here anymore, not at all. He didn't want to be anywhere, alive or dead, joyous or depraved. Fridgar... pitifully whimpering... because of him. Being petrified and nearly killed by the Jegers, left in anguish for days... because of him. Hurting so much, because of his anger, only a dozen trials before now.

Everything that was wrong in Fridgar's life was because of him. It didn't matter what he did now, the wound was struck, and there was no coming back from it. His mate would remember this. It would haunt him - he would never fully forgive Alistair, or himself, or whoever he was blaming. The mage had ruined everything.

Stepping out of the brush, he planted his spear into the ground, and with empty eyes stared down at the whimpering Lotharro, a grimace covering his face. Kneeling down before him, a heartbreaking pain clenched his heart. He couldn't do this anymore.

"You lied to me," he said, shaking his head in disappointment. "You made it seem okay, like you were excited to lay with me, and like you just wanted me to go off and separate to find camp. But really, you're off letting my actions destroy you, hiding it from me because... you can't trust me. I know why you can't, it's fine. It's because I'm awful. Because I'm heartless and soulless and angry. Fine then. You don't trust me anymore, and I deserve it. I don't deserve you, because in a trivial moment of anger I made myself painlessly recoil from my own balled fist. I get it. Every time I make a mistake it throws you over the edge like this. I just wanted to be happy again... to move past it... but you can't let that happen. My apologies meant nothing to you, my sadness meant nothing to you. It was all white noise. You couldn't forget, you had to go off and blame yourself and hurt to this degree, all away from my view. So what have we established? You don't care what I say, and you don't respect me. I can't handle honesty? You need to hide this from me?"

He shook his head, bitterly. "Fine, then. You fucking liar. Everything you said to me just now was a total lie - this was what you really wanted to express. Don't sleep with me, then. I don't want it anymore. Find a different camp - hell, don't even give me that fucking food. I'll starve and sleep on the dirt, because that's how terrible I am. That's how much my anger problems hurt you. I get it. Goodbye," he said, storming off after plucking Shadowsong from the floor, leaving Fridgar to his tears. He had his own tears now, but instead of sharing in them, he just wanted to be alone. How could he reconcile all of this? He was tired of Fridgar feeling like shit, but also... he was tired of being the person to make him feel that way. All he could ever do was whimper and fucking cry. Why couldn't Fridgar just tell him the truth? Why did he have to conceal what he really felt? How could he trust him again, knowing that maybe, sometimes when he said something was fine... he actually would go off and shake and cry in the dirt?

He wouldn't let him live like that anymore. Tonight, he would put this all to rest. End his stain upon this world.

[Aeon]

Alistair

Skill Knowledge:

Psychology: Anger disorders
Psychology: Mental health issues can lead to suicidal thoughts
Rhetoric: Matched apologies
Persuasion: Trying to better a situation with an enticing offer
Fieldcraft: A cave is a good place to be alone
Endurance: Going on with an empty stomach and a broken heart
Endurance: Struggling through extremely emotionally taxing conditions
Detection: Seeing through a diversion

Other Knowledge:

Me: A shit
Anger has brought me to suicide
Fridgar: I hurt him, dearly

Loot:

N/A

Injuries:

N/A

Fame:

N/A

Devotion:

+5 to Syroa (act of fury)

Magic:

These points can NOT be used for Domain Magic

Points awarded:

15

Fridgar

Skill Knowledge:

Acting: Feigning innocence
Acting: Feigning stability
Detection: Alistair in danger
Discipline: Pretend everything is okay when it really isn't
Discipline: Putting your love above your comfort
Psychology: Everything will be okay
Endurance: Crying until it hurts, and then continuing on
Psychology: Let it all out

Other Knowledge:

Alistair: Hurt himself because of you
Alistair: Struggles badly with his anger
Alistair: Turned on you
Alistair: Left you in the dirt
Alistair: Needs help, now more than ever
Alistair: needs you

Loot:

N/A

Injuries:

N/A

Fame:

N/A

Devotion:

N/A

Magic:

These points can NOT be used for Domain Magic

Points awarded:

15

Comment:

Man I don't even know if I did this review right, I'm so emotional right now, this is beautiful. The conflict, the imagery, the emotions, it's all so beautifully written I forgot this was still about surviving in the wilderness.

Feel free to PM me if you have any questions or concerns. Have a wonderful day!