Whitefish River drachenfeuer

set for 8/7

true to his word, mahler set out from diaspora to the place @Aurëwenn had indicated was her current lodging. he had returned home to set things in order, inform @Stigmata and @Takiyok of where he was going, and checked in upon @Ketzia and her brood before departing under whim of a moonless night.
but he knew which star the motherdove mentioned, and soon he stood upon the river-based borders of the castle. he knew the count and his second from an earlier meet, but this early morning mahler called only for the scarred seraphim and her wounded @Dragomir.

vague single post so they can have some bonding time!
light pp of aure given if needed

After her own return to the bear’s claim, she’d informed her little family, and then Evergreen, of Mahler’s soon-to-be visitation for her son’s sake. The morning she heard his call, there was nothing more she wished for than to rise and answer as she was so wont to do.
But she wouldn’t ever leave his side so aimlessly, so foolishly, so senselessly again.

So, Aure sent another, anyone, to play at ambassador in her stead; and when whoever’d brought the musiker further into the riverlands to them, the silver gently roused her son to wakefulness  (lest the Kapitën’s call already done so, of course)  with the birdsong. 
“Iki utúlie’n, Dragomir,” she wisped tenderly, crescented about her mauve sickle of a son; supporting him to sit up and see, should he need it. “Look who is here to see you.”

wasnt sure if u all were waiting on me D:

sped into the land by a silent courier, mahler had no eyes for the majesty of the place, wanting only to reach where aurëwen kept her son.
he stood stricken as the motherdove attempted to coax dragomir into awareness. the child had not merely been injured; he had been attacked, in the estimation of his grim and educated gaze.
flushed with a sudden resentment for aurëwen’s decision to take her young ones from the only home they had known, from their birthplace, mahler stole forward, burying the true nature of his tensed expression before he willed the hard lines of his face to thaw.
”dragomir,” he murmured, pausing at some small distance as not to startle the poor pup, ”it is mahler. i have come to see you.”

Nope, sorry 'bout that Eb! I had forgotten about this one when I caught up on replies last, that's my bad.

It was one of those days where Dragomir felt like he was floating somewhere beyond himself. He liked those days better than the ones where he woke screaming and jumped at shadows in the trees, if only because he felt removed from the physical and mental agony of his condition, but they came with their own challenges. Sometimes he didn't even recognize the wolves he was looking at. Sometimes he didn't really know where he was. Sometimes he couldn't remember what he'd just been doing, not that there was much he could do.

Dragomir didn't recognize Mahler at first; he lifted his head with a wince from his paws, setting his jaw in an effort not to jostle his injured cheek bone, and stared deadpan at the Kapitän with nary a flicker of recognition in his gaze. His heart stuttered for a moment at the sight of a dark-furred stranger, but this man couldn't be mistaken for Sanguinus or his flawless shadow; there was too much grey in his coat. Only when Aurë mumbled in his ear and then the grizzled grey wolf confirmed did Dragomir's hazel gaze light up a little, just a little, with relief and familiarity.

Mahler? he repeated, in a voice very unlike what Mahler would have recognized from before, broken and timid and mistrustful. But there was also heartfelt remorse in his voice as he said, with his ears flitting back and his eyes falling to the other wolf's paws, I'm really sorry, Mahler. I didn't wanna leave Diaspora. Now the man had come all this way to see him even though he had been taken from the pack without so much as a parting thank you. At the time the significance of that had been lost on him, but now he realized how very wrong it was... and how undeserving he must be of Mahler's presence here, when the man's careful care had been slighted by his family.

absolutely no worries!

dragomir was incredibly changed. mahler had expected it, but the boy had been almost utterly reformed, down to the pitch of his voice. 
it was the apology that broke the gargoyle’s soul; dragomir lay before him injured and torn, and thought only of the man who had once presided doktor over he and his sister. ”there is no need for apologies,” he rumbled hoarsely, a tightening to his throat as he drew forward some inches more and lowered himself down before the boy.
he could see now the swelling, the contusions, the possibility of broken bones in the small body; oh he wished to shake aurëwen, shout at her, rail, demand with bared tooth to see the healers who had treated dragomir.
none of it would do, none of it was worthwhile. mahler swallowed back his building rage and offered a small, wan smile. ”you are alive. and safe here. that is vhat matters.”
a pause; he wished to touch dragomir reassuringly but did not, and he wanted badly to ask what the boy recalled, but it would only hurt the little mind further. 
”i saw a very large fish on my last hunt,” he mused instead. ”maybe it vas a sea fish that svam upstream. do you think it vas possible?” mahler asked of the child, attempting to feign a cheer he did not feel.

There were a lot of things Dragomir may have told Mahler if he was left in the healer's presence alone, but Aurëwen hovering nearby was enough to cinch his vocal chords against those things. Like how his parents were fighting and maybe they thought he and Isilmë wouldn't notice, but the tension was impossible to ignore; like how all the wolves here were strangers and he didn't know how to feel safe among them even if he was; like how he wished he'd been born in some family with a mother who put her cubs before her own wants and a father who never left them. How he believed if they never left Diaspora, nothing bad would have happened. These were all things that would damn him if he uttered them in earshot of his family, so he didn't dare.

But he wanted to confide in someone these secret wounds in his heart, and it was impossible for him to hide that fully from his eyes as they lingered on the Kapitän. Yeah, he agreed instead in a tight little voice, swallowing thickly.

He readjusted his posture, grimacing at the discomfort that rippled through him, and said, I dunno. Maybe? He didn't know much about fish, but in earlier days he might have been keen to find out if that was possible. He would have discussed it with Mahler, engaged the man in return. Now he seemed disinterested and morose rather than inquisitive as he once had been; a result of the trauma, no doubt.

dragomir was unfortunately not distracted by his foolish talk of fish, but mahler did not miss the expression in the boy's eyes as he held the young gaze with his own. a blink, and his gaze traveled to aurëwen. could he ask her to leave them a moment? it was doubtful; the protective curve of her body was apparent. she was a mother with a wounded child; the motherdove would not let dragomir from her sight.
then again, mahler was a trusted individual, a visitor who had come a far way to see the little family. "aurëven," he murmured, turning his attention to her. "i am interested to know vhat vas used on dragomir's vounds. might you ask the healer to join me later, before i leave?" a low smile; he gathered dragomir back into his sights.
"vhen you are mended, vith the agreement of your mother, i vould like to bring you and your sister back to diaspora, for a visit." surely she would not resist such an arrangement; they would be safe beneath mahler's eye, and dragomir might regain a bit of the confidence that had been robbed from him after being removed from a secure environs.
but he was cunning, would play to aurëwen's role as the boy's mother, for her emotions surely ran high. mahler wanted to provide hope in the sunnier picture of a future in which dragomir was returned to himself, though even he doubted it would ever be so.

tags just for reference!

As Mahler had settled before them, the she-wolf had considered to let the musiker and her son to their own conversational devices — a shared privacy. And she almost made to, as the shift in her figure listed to one of readiness, to rise; but then the gargoyle suggested two occurrences her way, one of healing, and the second of visitation. Both stilled her thought, and would-be action.

Eventually, Aurëwen nodded to the first  (and may as well remove herself from here to let @Speedy know),  but to the second, she lapsed. Then:  “I ... am not against such a traipse. But I will have to tell their father, and discuss it with him.”  The silver didn’t doubt that @Vercingetorix would be against the invitation, either, but ... she hadn’t exactly told him she had been banished. Their children were blameless, in that, and always would be, whether she’d birthed and bled for them in the thicket that twilight.

Her innards snared up, at that, at it all — and that her own visitation may very well remain blockaded by the basilisks’ verdict. But when the strength of their children grew, then ... perhaps ... perhaps they might be able to journey with Mahler, alone. But even then, she wasn’t sure.

No, no: she would have to speak to her son’s healer, and then his father. Perhaps they could come to an agreement on this, at the very least; and so she gave Dragomir a smile, scarred brows quirked.  “Would you like to visit, balaur?

It was difficult to pry his spirits up from the bottom of his well; Dragomir wasn't even sure how to begin to pretend to be interested in anything ever again. Everything felt so hopeless and dire, and when he wasn't feeling detached like this, then he was panic-stricken and jumped at shadows. The moments where Dragomir felt safe and well were few and far between. When Isilmë visited or when Speedy came with her magical seeds to send him into a dreamless sleep. Those were perhaps the only times he felt semi-normal.

The invitation to visit Diaspora, therefore, didn't excite him like it might have before. A small part of him, the boy from before the incident, perked up inside his heart at the notion of going to see all the wolves he had come to know in his childhood, but that boy was smothered under the crushing weight of too many negative emotions. A tiny quirk of the lips into something resembling a smile, the slightest brightening of his eyes. That was the only indication. That would be nice, Dragomir said in a voice that regrettably didn't sound all too pleased about it, even if somewhere deep inside, he really was.

When would that be, though? Would he ever be strong enough to make that journey?

dragomir was closed as he might be; a slammed-shut tome who could neither be brightened nor prised to light. mahler let none of this show upon his face; he was sorely disappointed in aurëwen, both in her refusal to leave them be, and her neglect which had led to this in dragomir. the boy was clearly traumatized, tongue laid low by what he had underwent, and mahler almost desperately wanted to hear it.
but for now, he only smiled at the injured child, nodded to aurëwen. if by the end of autumn dragomir was fit to travel, mahler would take him to where he felt was home, and with the blessing of his parents, allow the boy to winter there. it would be a welcome respite from this place, from his maladies, and most of all, from the hovering mother. 
knowing he would get little else from the boy, mahler nevertheless focused himself upon dragomir, his gaze warm. "no matter vhere i am, or vhere you are, i am your friend." he had wanted to say that he would be here for the little one, but the grevious injuries sustained suggested that no one had been there. how could he claim that he could?

Skipping Aurë and having her go to find Speedy as per Ellie's PM so this thread can take a more interesting turn!

There wasn't much else to talk about, or so Dragomir thought. Aurëwen excused herself to search for Speedy as per Mahler's request, leaving the ailing son solitary in the Kapitän's presence. For several long beats, Dragomir merely stared at his torn nails and offered nothing. But with his mother away, he felt the oppressive weight on his tongue that kept him mum around his parents begin to lift. Almost as though Mahler was a more trustworthy adult in his eyes than his parents (which, for him, was the truth).

With a deep breath, Dragomir quietly revealed, she made this happen. He would never say that to Aurëwen's face. He would never confide that secret belief to Vercingetorix or even Isilmë for fear that they would tell Aurë and break her heart. But Dragomir believed it completely. If not for her making friends with dangerous wolves, enabling that dark and wicked man to weave his nefarious web and ensnare her son in it, this wouldn't have happened. Such was the logic of a child who needed somewhere to point the finger and didn't yet understand that not everything was someone else's fault.

She had a friend, or that's what she called him. She tried to leave us with him once but we ran, we didn't want to be left behind. Then we stopped in a forest and I wanted space and he lied to me and took me, and then ... then he ... threw me ... here he paused, gulping down several mouthfuls of air as he attempted to stave off another panic attack, but as images flashed through his mind, he began to hyperventilate. ... off a cliff.

Squeezing his eyes shut, the child gasped, they don't know. Well, Vercingetorix knew who, but Dragomir hadn't told him what exactly happened.

the dove slipped away, and mahler looked back to dragomir. despite the boy's closed attitude, the gargoyle would continue his attempts. it was to be expected — the child had undergone a major trauma, and mahler did not know that kaistleoki was truly home to the small dragon.
what the shadowpriest did not expect was the boy's small, trembling voice cracking open the tome of himself to those locked chapters. the man's expression darkened as dragomir incriminated aurëwen in the events that had sundered his small body. a friend, a friend who was nothing but a stranger, and the one to bring hurt to her son. 
a cliff — the boy was truly blessed to be alive.
a muscle jumped in mahler's cheek; he leant close. "does your father know?" came the dire rumble of his voice. aurëwen was among those who should not have been mothers, and in this moment his ire was terrible, hidden behind the clouding lilac of his stare.
dragomir and isilmë should be home with him in diaspora, that was certain, and mahler was unsure that he could be civil to their mother now.

The older he got, the more Dragomir might start to understand that it wasn't, in fact, Aurë's fault. Sometimes these things just happened, and adults could be as easily tricked as children by a crafty wolf like Sanguinus. He was still just young enough to believe that adults knew everything, and still too naive to know not to point fingers. Luckily, Mahler didn't make him feel worse by disagreeing with him—something Dragomir privately thought Vercingetorix would have done if he was here instead. His father was pretty good at disagreeing and making him feel shitty, best intentions though he might have.

Instead, Mahler asked if Verx knew.

Dragomir snagged his lower lip between his teeth and huffed quick breaths through his nose. He didn't know why it was easier to tell Mahler these things than it was to tell his parents. The reality of his unhealthy relationships, and equally unhealthy tendency to seek the comfort and care he needed elsewhere, was beyond his comprehension. But he was able to winch open his mouth and say, n-no. I told him who, I ... couldn't tell him what happened. Then, feeling perplexed and guilty for being unable to confide these things in his parents, the frantic boy mumbled, I'm sorry, and sought to bury his nose into his paws.

"those around you have failed. it is not your fault, dragomir. you are a child." again, perhaps too forceful, but mahler wished to drive out the seed of guilt that seemed to have already taken root within the injured young heart. aurëwen was far too fey to have ever been a mother to this boy, and his ire was kindled against her again, against verx.
wildly he wondered how he would be received, to press his claim as more suitable guardian. the thought was quickly renounced — more strife would only sicken dragomir more. 
a small, locked part of mahler knew it was because of what he had done that he now sought to make amends, to seek his penance in the love he bore for aurëwen's children. futile, perhaps, but it was all he had. lowering his muzzle, mahler crept closer; he did not touch, but offered the gentle presence of himself if dragomir saw fit to be reassured.

It is not your fault, Dragomir. Then why did it feel so much like it was? If he was only a better son, couldn't he still his mother's wandering paws? Couldn't he have been enough for his father even without the sea? Mahler was doing his best, but the roots of Dragomir's affliction reached too deeply into his soul to be extricated with anything less than months of reassurance. Even if both his parents remained from this point onward and never left him again, it would take many moons to erase his mistrust.

On that note, the boy lifted his snout from his paws and asked in a small voice, how can I forgive them? Vercingetorix had done nothing worthwhile for them in all their lives—he left them, claiming to want a better home for them, which he had failed to find. He had merely taken them to the sea only to march them away again, claiming it was dangerous. Hadn't he known that when he went there? And Aurëwen had gotten them removed from the only home they should have had to know over her own desires ... perhaps one day he would understand the values that drove his parents to these irresponsible decisions, but presently, all he could feel deep down was resentment for how those decisions had upended his entire life.

Brushing death's door with his fingertips had put some things into perspective for Dragomir, like letting go of his temper, but not everything.

mahler wanted to tell dragomir truthfully that it was not up to the boy to forgive, but he held back his words for fear the havoc they might wreak on an already charred heart. "you must give it time," the gargoyle rumbled instead. time — if it was the balm for all wounds, marigold remained afester, a boil on his soul.
but mahler had been guilty of cowardice then. dragomir was innocent, plunged far too early into the darkness. the musiker had little hope that the boy would be unscathed by his travails, but if he could stay close, he would. if he could be a guide, a teacher, a mentor. a father where dragomir's own had failed. it was arrogance glutting itself upon the events, mahler knew, but he could not help it. "and you must give yourself time, dragomir," the shadowpriest added, seeking the child's eyes once more with a duck of his heavy muzzle.

Mind if we fade here? Hoping to clean out my threadlog now that everything's changed!

How long is it going to take? was what Dragomir wanted to ask now, but instead he just lapsed into silence. After a few moments he nodded, hoping to appear pensive, but he doubted it worked. Mahler's reassurances helped, even if there was a part of the boy who would always be tormented by his inability to trust his parents after everything.

When will you come back? asked Dragomir. He hoped it would be soon. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to go back to Diaspora for the winter without his family, since his mother definitely wouldn't be welcomed back, but regardless of his decision, he would like to see Mahler's familiar face again. Talking to the Kapitän soothed him in a way his parents simply couldn't these days.

not at all <3

to be realistic, to be wispy in his response. mahler decided dragomir had been subjected to more than enough nonsense.  "i vill try to be back before the snows happen." and if not, he would come to see the boy in the spring. a disappointing answer, he supposed, but an honest one, and he suspected that these days the child prized such in his conversations.
"i am going to speak vith your healer before i leave, and of course i vill tell you vhen i am going,"  the shadowpriest promised, "but for now i vill tell you about the great vhite deer i saw on the vay here."
perhaps a story would ease dragomir's mind, perhaps not, but mahler would try all the same.