my heart is caged

I figured the Mama x Eiri thread should happen first. ;D

Ein had spent the past months soul searching, often in seclusion, thoughts deeper than any child's should have probably been. He barely spoke to anyone, to his siblings, or his parents, even the news of Julooke and Verrine's babies couldn't rouse the eldest Lodbrok from his shell, and when he wasn't exploring every nook and cranny of Stavanger Bay he was traipsing boldly outside of it, exploring the territories immediately outside of Stavanger Bay, sometimes spending nights away only to return sleepy eyed and fur ruffled from self adventuring the next morning so as to not worry his parents, if they even worried at all. Ein was getting bigger, growing like a proverbial weed into his full size, not even aware that the silver marking under his eyes had thinned, the fur growing darker around his eyes as the months wore on. Unable to see himself he hadn't even realized that his eyes had transitioned from childhood milky blue to a brilliant imperial green color, reminiscent of his DiSarinno lineage. He'd spent the night in Gyrfalcon's Keep and woke with the rising sun and shuffled his way back to Stavanger Bay, knowing that today he needed to talk to his mother about many things.

Anticipation bubbled in his stomach like a jar of butterflies set free where they fluttered. Ein had no idea how he was going to ask it, or even if he would be allowed. How could he ask @Thistle Cloud and Ragnar to let him leave the pack, to join one of the others in the Wilds when he hadn't shown any initiation, or any sort of personal responsibility. He hadn't even chosen his name, still going by Ein even after all these months. He drew in a deep breath, a slight breeze ruffled through his sleep mussed fur as he tipped his head back and sent out a howl for his mother.

Thistle had watched on the outskirts as her son grew tall and long, growing bigger than his siblings and looking like his true father. It gave her heart a little twitch everytime and she often wondered when would be the time to tell her children the truth, she did not know. She had never hidden it from them really, and had they asked she would have told them without a thought, but she could not help but dread the day when they really did ask and they really did question and she was left with a broken heart. Because she was certain that out of all of them Ein would probably take the news the hardest and he would probably resent her for that fact, though she could be wrong. These silent musings came to her on swift wings at odd moments and she would have to shake her head.

It was as if her son shared her internal struggled, and as he grew quiet and secluded. It bothered her, but at the same time she wished to give him his space. She dipped her head and lifted her ears forward when she heard the howl on the wind coming for her. Ein was requesting her, she had much to do, but she wasn't about ot brush off her son. Not when finally after weeks he was willing to speak with her now.

I just had this hilarious thought of Ein being like "Oh great I'm adopted" I might have him change his name back to what it was originally going to be which was Romulus, lol.

Ein wondered what his social awkwardness might cost him in the end, what this decision might cost him, or even if (on the theory that he was actually given permission) he could actually go through with it. He might have been used to spending his days and occasionally some nights alone but he'd never been really alone before. He'd always had his family, or even Nerian who was family in her own way and thinking that once he left that was it, there was no guarantee he would be allowed back into the Bay. It was one thing to go for a night or two and know that you had a pack to return too in the morning but to leave and know that he didn't? It made him anxious and double guessing if this adventure was one that he not only wanted to risk but if it was actually a necessity. Would it help define him? Ein had no idea.

Slowly he began to pace back and forth, back and forth the length of some imagined stretch of scent border, hesitating over the piss marks wondering if he should cross them or if he should be on his rightful side of them: outside. “I mean, I'm almost a Juvenile,” Ein spoke aloud to himself, a habit he'd began to pick up in his seclusion. “It should be ok, right?” Ein didn't exactly expect an answer and quieted when he heard the footfalls of his mother. His pacing stopped as Thistle Cloud drew nearer and gave her a sheepish grin. “Hi Mama,” He said hoping that he looked boyish enough to avoid any potential trouble.

Thistle knew her children would leave her for her own adventures, but she hoped to not have it until her children were six months or older. If she had known that this was possibly the day her eldest son would ask permission, she may have fallen apart before coming, or at least steeled herself for the inevitable.

Thistle licked her son's face and gently nuzzled his head between his over large ears and his neck. Hello Ein. What are you doing? She then sat down near him and waited patiently and quietly for him to speak up.

A deep breath was taken, the crisp Autumn air cool as it rushed into his wind pipe, holding it for a few seconds before he exhaled, letting it out betwixt his lips. Asking Thistle was ten times than gathering the courage to ask Ragnar — though little did Ein realize that out of his parents Ragnar probably would have been more willing to let him go than Thistle. He stood still for Thistle when his mother drew nearer, accepting her lick and the nuzzle of the fur between his ears and the thicker fur of his nape. In other circumstances he might have protested in the way that teenage boys were known for when their mother fussed with their perfectly styled hair but this wasn't categorized within the other circumstances category and he took it like a good sport. Even if it was slightly embarrassing. “I've been thinking and ...I have a question for you,” Ein cringed slightly at how idiotic he sounded. Right, what a way to prove to your mother you were ready to be allowed to go out on your own — Ein was pretty sure being able to correctly order his sentences was a good start and he was already failing miserably and he hadn't actually gotten to the part in where he asked Thistle.

Thistle saw him take a deep breath and she wondered at it. He was clearly perturbed or bothered by something, and she wasn't sure what it was. She wanted to help him, but she had a lot going on right now, and if it involved her leaving she would have to tell him no for the time being.

She tilted her head and sat down curling her tail around her slight paws. Her son was already half her size, and she imagined by six months he'd be much bigger than she. Very Well Ein. What would you like to ask me?

Ein wasn't prepared to do this, he knew. He had no idea how to approach her about it and his conversation with Junior nagged at the back of his head like a wasp trapped in a jar. Her words of wisdom didn't go unabsorbed by the eldest Lodbrok child but at the same time he felt that he needed to do this. He needed to do this because he couldn't stand the thought of disappointing Ragnar because Ein could never be the son that the scarred Scandinavian wanted. Though Ein had a deep appreciation for the Norse language, he did not feel nor did he want to be a Viking. He found his father's gods facinating but it was more of a thirst of knowledge as opposed to a blind faith in them. He couldn't force himself to continue in the spiral of lies and he couldn't face Ragnar because he would have rather died than see the heavy disappointment that he knew Ragnar would show. So it was time for Ein to bow out and let Gunnar have the glory because out of the two of them he was the one who had the most potential to be everything that Ragnar wanted in a son, and rightfully it was the recognition that Gunnar deserved.

Ein 's heart was heavy as he looked around, avoiding looking in his mother's face, until guiltily he fixed her in his imperial green gaze. For a moment the boy of shadows couldn't speak, the emotion too thick where it stuck in his throat and for a second he considered backing out, but he was tired of living in the web of lies. He didn't want to lie to her and keep up the charade that wasn't making him happy. “I,” Ein started, his voice cracking embarrassingly. “I wanted to ask you for permission to leave the Bay.” The words were incredibly painful as they left his lips and no relief rushed to greet him as they hung in the air between them, anticipating pooling in Ein's stomach like ice as he waited.

Thistle studied her son as he refused to look at her. Her heart felt somewhere down in her guts. He knew didn't he, he knew about Crete and he hated her for it. That had to be it right, it was the only thing that made sense really. What else could he want to ask her about that made him look so nervous. She wanted to cry, she hadn't wanted to tell him yet, she wanted to wait until they were over six months old, so they understood better. She formed the words into a sentence in her head. Only to allow them to crumble and float away like crumbs on smoke. It was hard to speak of it, and she didn't know what to say.

For a moment the words did not penetrate and Thistle just stared at her eldest son. Then she breathed a sigh of relief silently. So it was not about his real father. She frowned then, he wanted to leave them why on earth would he want to leave them? She pursed her lips and then began to speak Why do you want to leave now? I mean you are not half grown yet, not that you couldn't take care of yourself, but well why?

Ein hadn't ever connected the dots that were subtle yet hidden that he and his siblings were not Ragnar's. Especially him. He didn't resemble Ragnar in any shape or form, instead favoring much of his DiSarinno lineage resembling Aether and Crete more than he did Thistle Cloud. It wasn't like Ein looked at his parents and then looked at himself and made the slash through the dots of “oh my god I'm adopted” (half adopted). He just assumed that Thistle or even Ragnar himself had some dark furred relatives that Ein happened to receive the recessive genetics of, on the rare and nearly non-existent times that Ein actually thought about things as shallow as fur color; and because Ein was not looking at his mother he did not realize that she was under any kind of distress. He was too busy being caught up in his own world of anxiety to worry about anyone else's anxiety.

The urge to look away, potentially in shame, was strong but Ein resisted figuring he didn't deserve anything if he couldn't be man enough to look his mother in the eyes as he asked her to let him leave. As far as Ein decided to see it if he couldn't do that then he wasn't man enough to tackle the potentially life threatening adventure he was asking her permission to go on. “Because,” His talk with Junior kept back and he drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I don't want to be a Viking.” The eldest Lodbrok mumbled under his breath, part of him hoping that she heard it and he wouldn't be forced to repeat himself, but another part of him hoping she didn't hear so he could say “oh nothing, nevermind” and go on with his spiral of lies.

Thistle listened with a heavy heart and knew that now was the time to tell him, even though it was crappy timing. Especially since Ragnar was not here, but maybe that would make it so much easier. She took a deep breath, her ears forward at his words. He did not want to be a viking, well he didn't have to be if he didn't want to be even if he had been Ragnar's biological son.

Pinning her ears to her head, she sat down and stared at her son, fear and pain in her gaze. Listen to me Ein, What I am about to tell you was not hidden from you because we wanted to hurt you, but because we wished you were old enough to understand before we told you. Firstly before that though is Ein you do not have to be a viking if you don't want too. It doesn't matter, we have raised you as such. But I wasn't a viking originally and neither was your biological father. She winced not the easiest way to say that, but hey this was unchartered territory for her. I was young when I got pregnant with you 3. It was my first season and I was rather Naive about the ways of it. Ragnar and I were not mates, simply friends and I had another friend named Crete, he is Peregrines brother and Junior's uncle. Anyway, Crete and I had one night of well you will find out when your older then he disappeared. Ragnar and I coupled too, and I was pregnant but we weren't sure who was the three of you's real father and we decided that he would raise you regardless of whose you really were. Though as you all age it is clear whose you are. I'm sorry Ein I did not want you to find out with such a hurried explanation. Ragnar is your father in all ways that matter, Crete just simply offered his genes. Thistle bowed her head and sniffed, waiting for her son to scream at her and tell her he hated her.

She knew this was going ot hurt and possibly break her heart. Because she could not even fathom a guess as to why her son wouldn't want to hate her for this. After all she had kept it from him. Not unpurpose, just assuming he would be older when he found out and she could explain better. However, she couldn't explain any better this time. She sighed softly and kept her eyes on the ground afraid to look up and see the fury and hatred in her son's eyes.

Mercury noted the pain and fear in her eyes as he held her gaze, feeling like the prodigal son that everyone was going to hate eventually. Or sooner rather than later, perhaps. He didn't understand that her fear and pain was because of something much, much worse than him wanting to leave the Bay. Smoky black ears flattened against his skull when his mother began to speak, her words confusing and sparking a unwelcome ball of anxiety within the pre-teen's stomach and lodging one in his throat for good measure. “Yes he is,” Mercury gave Thistle an unintentional look that questioned her sanity, unsure what she meant by that. Though Mercury had never met many Vikings in his life he fully believed there wasn't anyone out there alive that wasn't more Viking than Ragnar. It was Ragnar. Mercury might not have fully understood about the whole mating thing but he had a vague enough idea to be able to keep up with his mother's rapid speech without pondering too long on any certain word. He vaguely understood that children didn't just come from the ground or whatever, and he had a vague idea of what happened to make babies — having accidentally stumbled across a mating pair of white-tailed deer on one of his 'adventures'. He hardly understood all of it but he was intelligent and quick enough to put two and two together. He didn't tell his mother that, however, too mortified by the idea and by the fact that karma was kicking his behind because he'd been lying for a while now to appease everyone; but apparently he hadn't been the only one.

He couldn't find his voice in his body, hadn't realized he'd even stopped breathing until he sucked in a greedy gasp of air as his lungs ached for it. He simply stared at her, battling between feeling horrendously betrayed, and horribly relieved. So he was actually related to Junior? They were, what, cousins biologically? “But Gyda looks like him, like Ragnar and Gunnar looks like you. I'm the only one that doesn't,” So what did that say about him? “Maybe I'm just the bastard son. It makes perfect sense because I'm the exact opposite of what Ragnar wants in a son.” Mercury's voice was full of sarcasm even though he was being quite serious about it. His sarcasm was his defensive mechanism. It brought with it relief from the overwhelming, crushing things that he felt and did not want to examine right here in front of her. “So where is he? My real father?” Mercury asked her before letting out a sharp breath.

“Don't call me Ein. That's not even a name,” He looked away from a second, swallowing harshly before he looked back to Thistle. “I go by Mercury now.”

Thistle kept silent, he was saying yes he is too Ragnar, because he simply hadn't heard all of her spiel yet. She sighed when he looked at her like she was crazy, she supposed she deserved it. She deserved a lot of things, and she often gave too much of herself where others were concerned, without asking anything in return. Which in a way also explained the whole torrid affair, between herself and Crete from the Plateau.

Thistle sighed yes she does, but my father was silver. And Gunnar, Gunnar has Crete's mask. Stop that, you are everything your fat....Ragnar wants in a son. It does not matter whose blood you carry or whose gods you follow. You will still be his son, whether you believe it or not. She grew quiet hurt and sad, but knowing she deserved it none the less. I don't know. He left before he even knew I was pregnant. His family doesn't even know where he is.

Thistle's eyes flashed for a moment, but she stayed calm. How was I supposed ot know you've chosen a name Mercury? You haven't told any of us anything for weeks. It suits you though.

Mercury let out a harsh laugh when Thistle told him to stop that he was everything Ragnar wanted in a son but in truth he considered her words to be empty because he knew the truth. “You don't have to say that to make me feel better about it, it's ok, really. I'm the prodigal son. Gunnar wants the attention anyway,” And Mercury wanted it to all go away. In reality, he wanted a black hole to open up and swallow him whole, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon and he doubted that all of his was just going to vanish under the rug like he severely wished it would. “Because that sounds like the ultimate spouse,” Mercury mumbled under his breath, hoping that Thistle hadn't caught it. It begged the question if his biological father was a loser how much of him was a loser; and being told that he reminded everyone of Crete didn't, exactly, fuel Mercury's confidence any. Why did he want to be like some moron who knocked girls up and left 'em? How many half siblings did he have running around? Like he really wanted to be compared to a twat like that. “I didn't say you were supposed to know it. I just said that Ein isn't a name and it isn't my name.” Ein was insulting to him and he didn't want to be associated with a number any longer. He wasn't a number. He wasn't cattle for slaughter, though right now that's sort of what he felt like.

Thistle growled her temper finally showing through I understand you are hurting and you feel betrayed Mercury, but that gives you no right to speak to me that way. I am your mother! Yes I have made mistakes, but you know what I would do it all over again, because then I would have you and your siblings. Ragnar knew the truth and he still raised you did he not, still calls you son. So don't you sit there and call me a liar in so many words.

Thistle bowed her head I know it isn't a name, that was what Pump wanted we were not allowed to name you, you had to earn your own name. She stared at the ground and sighed softly You get your father's permission before you leave Mercury, otherwise I don't care, but promise me that if you need to, you come home.