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68. Family

Fenrin hesitated outside the city. It was frigid cold and his breath obscured the view of the tall grey walls. Weeks of travelling and now that he was at his destination, he couldn’t seem to move his damn feet.

As snow started to fall, adding more white to the already covered ground, Fenrin groaned and made himself walk to the city gate, his boots tromping through the slush right outside the city.

“Name and business?” the guards asked sharply, giving the scarred and wild looking man a look over.

He hesitated and the guard shifted, his grip on his spear getting tighter.

“Oh, er, Harold. I’m here to...buy some traps?”

It was the worst cover story he’d ever heard or given and the guard stared at him.

“How long will you be in the city?”

Again Fenrin hesitated. That was a good question. “I’m not sure. I have some family here that might want me to stick around.”

“Alright, but I’ve got my eye on you, don’t go making any trouble.”

Fenrin wasn’t able to keep the wolfish grin from his face, but quickly ducked past the guard who scowled and muttered something.

It’d been a long time since Fenrin’d been in a Valhym city. He’d forgotten the bustle of the hardy people making their way through the terrible weather. Their fair hair and thick woolen clothes were so different from Zi’giza with its Azir populace and rainbowed architecture.

Grey was the predominant color here and Fenrin was a bit surprised by how little he stood out. Although his battle-worn features did draw a few stares, the looks were almost approving rather than frightened. It was all strangely familiar and almost without thinking, Fenrin easily found himself at the door of a well-lit tavern, the need for warm mead irresistible.

As the barkeep slammed down the large tankard, Fenrin wrapped his cold fingers around it appreciatively. He drank, wondering vaguely how he’d pay for it. He hadn’t brought any money and somehow he doubted the barkeep would accept a tab. Maybe he could charge it to the royal coffers. That thought made him chuckle.

He was just enjoying the sensation returning to his frozen toes when a small figure pulled themselves onto the seat next to him, slowly shedding a humorous number of gloves and scarves and placing them on the counter by Fenrin’s elbow.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

The voice was familiar and Fenrin turned his head to find Kiana’s familiar brown eyes staring at him amused as she unwound yet another scarf.

Fenrin took another long swallow of his mead. “Come here often?” he asked dryly.

“Never been, but it looked warm and there’s no way I’m walking through that snowstorm.” Kiana shivered and Fenrin snorted. It was barely a flurry.

“Shouldn’t you be up at the castle?” Fenrin asked pointedly.

Kiana gestured at Fenrin’s drink. “Is that good? It looks warm.”

He shrugged and Kiana waved at the barkeep until he put another steaming tankard in front of the girl. She warmed her dark fingers around the drink and answered Fenrin’s question, “I was out of a scouting mission of sorts. Trying to get an idea of what the Jarls and people are doing. I just got back. Shouldn’t you be in a valley somewhere?”

“Mmm,” Fenrin hummed.

They sat in silence for a bit until Kiana swiveled on her stool and leaned back on the counter. “You been to see her yet?”

Fenrin shook his head, greying hair falling into his face. “No. Just got here.”

“There’s warm mead in the castle too, you know. Somehow I don’t think it was the snow that put you off, so why the delay? It must’ve been a long walk since you decided not to take the ship with us.”

“A man can’t just go to a tavern because he wants to?”

“Not a man without money,” Kiana said with a half smile and he scowled at her.

The barkeep’s ear pricked up at that, but Kiana pulled some coins from her belt and put them on the counter, paying for both their drinks. She slid off the stool and patted the Fenrin’s thick arm. “Come on, let’s go. You can walk next to me and keep the snow off.”

He chuckled as she spent another few minutes rewinding her scarves and putting on two pairs of gloves.

“You going to survive the actual winter?” he asked as he opened the door for her and she sucked in a breath as the frigid breeze hit her.

“Don’t remind me. I don’t care what happens, I’m not leaving the castle again until spring.”

“Not even if your princess commands?” he teased.

“I’d die for Fiona, but I draw the line at becoming an icicle.” Kiana glanced up at Fenrin. “You’d better be staying. She misses you terribly already and we could use an extra hand.”

“If Her Highness will have me.”

Kiana moved closer to Fenrin, practically shoving herself under his arm and the furs that draped over it. “It’s not Fiona you’re worried about. I wouldn’t give up on the king just yet, you know. He’s a lot more forgiving than he has a right to be.”

Fenrin shook his head, it was both annoying and convenient how easily Kiana read him. It reminded him of Tryst or Matius.

“Aren’t you observant,” he muttered.

He felt her shrug by his elbow. “I can’t change what I am. Just what I do.”

Now that sounded like a piece of advice straight out of Matius’s mouth and Fenrin gave a knowing grin. “You’ve been talking to Matius.”

He chuckled as she bit her lip. “He’s a wonderful man. I miss him.”

Fenrin threw his arm around Kiana, crushing her into his side. “He said we would get along and, like always, the damned man was right. Tell you what, you help me not make an ass of myself in front of the king and I’ll teach you how to survive a Valhym winter.”

Kiana was stiff but slowly she relaxed. “I...I’d like that.”

When they reached the castle, Kiana did all the talking and soon they were outside the throne room, the steward preparing to announce them. Fenrin shifted nervously and glanced at Kiana, who—free off her excess clothes—was looking around with concern.

“What’s up?” Fenrin whispered.

“We should have been shown right in. They must not be already in there which means something is different.”

“Trouble?”

“I don’t know.”

The throne room doors were thrown open and Kiana stepped inside, Fenrin following, his eyes glancing about for whatever Kiana sensed was off.

Trouble was exactly what he found. Gap-toothed and giving him a two fingered salute, Liberty shouted, “Oi, there you are! Thought maybe you’d gotten lost.”

“What in gods’ names are you doing here?” Fenrin asked, “How’d you even get here?”

An Avin with hawk wings mirrored Libby’s salute. “That’d be with me, sir. Name’s Blake, pleasure to meet the famous Fenrin the Wolf.”

“Kiana!”

Fiona ran down from her throne and picked up Kiana, spinning her before planting a kiss on her lips, which were still drawn in a nervous line. As soon as she set her girlfriend down, she launched herself at Fenrin.

“Uncle Fenrin! I’m so glad you’re here! When Libby said you were coming, I could hardly believe it. Are you really going to stay? Please say you are!”

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Fenrin’s heart melted like the icicles hanging from the bottom of his cloak. “How can I say no to that? If you don’t mind my old hide, I’ll stick around.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I don’t mind. I—” she choked up and her blue eyes swam and Fenrin prepared for the dam to break, already raising a calloused finger to whip away the oncoming tears. “I’m so happy, I never thought…”

Her shoulders started to shake and he pulled her in. “I know. I know.”

He glanced up, the king was sitting stiffly in his throne and Libby had sauntered up to Kiana. The two stared at each other and Fenrin could practically hear the clack of chess pieces moving as they looked each other up and down.

Finally, Libby stuck out a hand. “I’m Libby, you must be Kiana. Nice to meetcha, Stars know Fiona hasn’t shut up about you.” She held her other hand to her cheek. “Oh Kiana, her pretty face and knowing eyes, how they haunt me at night,” she said in a dramatic voice and Kaina already reaching out to take the hand, blushed.

“Shut up!” Fiona squealed and moved to tackle Libby who gave Kiana’s outstretched hand a brief shake and a quick wink before dodging the charging princess who growled, “Get back here you gremlin!”

Libby ran over to Blake who casually unfurled their wings and Fiona lost sight of her quarry. She put her hands on her hips, “I could still have you tossed in the dungeons, you know.”

Her friend’s round face appeared above Blake’s shoulder where she’d shimmied up. “Nah, you love me too much.”

Fiona rolled her eyes and gave an apologetic glance at Kiana who’s set mouth now trembled with amusement before she coughed; “It’s nice to meet you both. I wish I didn’t have to bring down the mood, but I do have some important news about the Jarls.”

“I think that’s our cue to skedaddle,” Libby said and Blake nodded, “if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to find out what flying in snow is like.”

Fenrin gave them a worried look but the two just grinned broadly and he gave up. No use trying to tell troublemakers to avoid trouble. If they died, they died.

With a whoosh and a loud wahoo from Libby, Blake took off, barreling through the door, wings snapped together to avoid the frame before whipping out again and making an impressive sharp turn down the hall as guards dropped to the floor to avoid the Avin missile.

“They’re...a lot,” Kiana said, a bit breathless.

Fiona looked out the door fondly, “Aren’t they?”

Putting an affectionate arm around his niece, Fenrin turned to Kiana. “What’s this about Jarls causing trouble?”

Before Kiana could answer, Eirik stood up and said, “Perhaps this news best be given privately in my office. Fiona, why don’t you get...your uncle...settled and meet Kiana and I there.”

With a quick sympathetic look, Kiana stepped up and took the king’s arm leading him down the hall. Fiona frowned, but Fenrin cut his losses and gave her a squeeze. “You got somewhere I can hole up in?”

Fiona pulled away, her face settling back into a smile. “Of course. Let’s see...I think the east guest chamber should be free. I’ll show you.”

She lead Fenrin through the halls until they came to a large room with a empty fireplace. The bed was made and the room clean and decorated warmly. Fiona pointed to another door.

“I’ll get someone to bring some water up. As much as I’m glad you're here, you stink, Uncle Fen.” Fiona wrinkled her nose dramatically and Fenrin shrugged.

“That’s what happens when you walk across a continent, but if Your Royalness insists, I will make myself presentable.”

For a moment Fiona’s smile flickered and Fenrin gave her concerned look.

She shifted. “Sorry. I just...for a moment I pictured Vai…”

“Fiona…”

The princess straightened and shook her head, long hair swaying. “I know. You don’t have to say it. It’s just a bit much...all the reminders. Reminders of being here as a kid, of you and Libby in the valley, of Vai, and...of her. I almost keep expecting her to come crashing back into my life.”

Fenrin walked up and put his large hands on Fiona’s shoulders.

“Lyra is gone, but there’s no good pretending she wasn’t a part of your life—even if it wasn’t a good or large part. Our parents are always a piece of us, but that doesn’t mean we have to define ourselves by them. Let her go. Make new memories and don’t let her haunt you anymore. The past is the past, it’s time to focus on the present.”

He felt her take a deep breath and she stepped back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll try.”

She disappeared down the hall and Fenrin went into his room. He was staring at himself in the mirror when a manservant arrived with water for a bath. After thanking him, Fenrin cleaned the thick grime of travel off his body, taking a moment to absently eye the dozens of faded scars. Reminders.

Without thinking, his fingers trailed over his chest, tracing the almost obscured rearing bear tattoo.

It was so easy to just hate his family, it was harder when it was quiet and he could remember how human they were. He’d seen true evil and it wasn’t the Bear or Lyra. Then again, in some ways they were worse because they were human.

Fenrin dunked his hair in the bathwater one more time, determined to take his own advice and focus on the present.

Washed, he took his hunting knife and cleaned up his beard. It wasn’t Vai-standard but it was respectable none-the-less. To his surprise, a small smile crept to his face with memory of the Aryi. They’d had their differences but he and Fenrin had learned to live with each other.

Perhaps he’d have a chance to do the same with Fiona’s father.

Imagining Matius or Jayln encouraging him on, Fenrin got dressed and forced himself down the wide stone halls to find the king.

Kiana found him first.

She stepped in pace to walk beside him. “Are you going to talk to him already?”

“How do you do that?” Fenrin growled.

“Do what?”

“Pop up out of nowhere and read my mind. You’re worse than Matius.”

Her lips curled up into a smile. “I’ll take that as a high compliment. As for how, I was actually on my way to talk to you.”

“About what?” Fenrin raised an eyebrow.

To his surprise Kiana chewed her lip and even with her dark skin, Fenrin could see her blush. “I...well I was just wondering about Fiona and Libby.”

Fenrin grinned. “What? You couldn’t just tell their whole life’s story by looking at them?”

“Libby’s hard to read,” Kiana explained but realizing she was being teased added, “they seem really close is all…”

He lowered a large scarred hand on her head. “Don’t you worry about that. They were thick as thieves but nothing more. Although, to tell you the truth, Fiona never came to me with that sort of thing.”

Fenrin scratched his beard considering. “Liberty seems to have found her own partner in crime anyway. Personally, I am surprised she hasn’t given you the once over about you and Fiona already.”

“What do you mean?”

“Libby was always a bit protective of Fiona. It was hard sometimes for Fiona to fit in at the valley, living the lie she was. Just don’t be surprised if Libby threatens to break your arms if you break Fiona’s heart.” He chuckled. “Oh, I guess I’d better say the same. You be careful with her, she’s the only family I’ve got left, you know.”

“And she’s the whole world to me.” Kiana gave Fenrin a smile. “Thanks, and good luck with the king. He’s still in his office by the way. Third door on the right after the next turn.”

He gave her a two fingered wave and she slipped down a side hall. Funny little thing, but Fiona seemed happy with her.

Fenrin followed Kiana’s directions to the king’s office. There was a single guard outside and Fenrin ran a finger through his greying hair. “Here goes.”

He knocked. “Your Highness? Can we talk?”

“Let him in.”

The guard opened the door and Fenrin grit his teeth, already on edge. The king turned to him, the golden silk around his eyes helping to hide his expression. He looked tired. It was a tired Fenrin could relate to.

“Mind if I sit down?” Fenrin asked and the king waved a hand towards the other end of his desk.

Lowering himself into the chair, Fenrin began, “Look, I know you probably don’t want me here and I’m sorry I barged in like I did, but Fiona means a great deal to me and I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t think she wanted me here.”

The king slowly entwined his fingers in front of him, his blind eyes looking straight at Fenrin. “I’ve been thinking a lot about why I hate you.”

It was a bit sudden and harsh, but not unexpected.

“You have good reason,” Fenrin muttered. Best get that out there.

“Perhaps, but I’ve realized it’s not because of what you did to me or my parents. It’s not even that you killed the man I loved. In a way you were only a pawn in both those instances.” Eirik’s fingers turned white. “No, I’ve realized I hate you because I am jealous, so sickeningly jealous.”

Fenrin opened his mouth but no words came out. The king, unable to see it, continued, “I hate that you were there to see my daughter grow up. I hate that you were able to walk away from Lyra’s abuse. I hate that you were able to make peace with Vai when I could not. I hate you because everytime you gained something, it was because I lost it.”

Suddenly, the king stood and Fenrin started. Eirik’s voice grew a bit louder. “If I ordered you to leave, would you?”

Fenrin sighed. “I honestly don’t know. If Fiona told me to leave, I’d do it in a heartbeat, I can say that.”

“It’s strange,” Eirik mused, fingertips falling off the edge of the desk, “I’ve been afraid for a very long time, but you being here scares me in an entirely different way. I finally have my daughter back and want to hoard my time with her like precious gems. I feel like a foolish child, desperate not to share.”

Quietly, Fenrin listened, letting Eirik say everything he had to. The king continued, “But she’s not some treasure to be hoarded. She’s a smart, good-hearted, brilliant young woman and I cannot pretend I don’t have you to thank in part for that. I was reminded of that recently.”

His voice lowered again. “It’s no longer anyone’s place to tell Fiona how she has to live or who she must stay with, so if she wants you here, I will not get in the way.”

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit,” Fenrin said slowly but continued with more confidence, “Fiona came to me with more light and love in her heart then anyone in my bloodline has the right to have. Now I know she didn’t get it from Lyra so that means it was all you. She’s the daughter of a king, I’m just her ornery uncle.”

Eirik actually cracked a small smile. After a pause, he lifted his hand where it hung hesitatingly in the air, an almost incomprehensible invitation. “I think, perhaps, I can live with that.”

Fenrin took his hand and shook it firmly. Of all the things Fenrin’d done over the last decade, the times and ways he’d tried to repent of his sins, nothing felt quite as right as shaking Eirik’s hand. With that action, it seemed his world, perpetually tilted since the day he’d left his sister behind, clicked securely into harmony at last.

He had a family again.

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