Dragoncrest Cliffs Procellous

“I must find @Sobo an’ speak with him,” Njord explained to @Meerkat, half-lidded gaze pensive as the cogs turned deep inside his mind. “What ‘appened on Meares Island… it haunts me. An’ I must try ta make things right.” Though Njord was reluctant to leave Meerkat’s side for even a minute, his wife’s knowing look said it all.

The seafarer set off and followed Sobo’s trail.

Sobo would be found down the beach near the sea caves, combing through a large tidepool.

News of Njord's return had, of course, reached his ears. It awoke a new kind of turmoil in him. There was a very small part of him left that considered Njord family — the little boy who had always looked up to his seafaring father, deep down inside — that was glad the man was still alive.

There was a considerably larger part that scorned Njord for leaving his children not once, but twice. The first had been forgiveable, since Njord was only a father on a technicality then, but the second was unconscionable. He had left his mate alone with their young children to mourn for him, and Sobo's feelings toward Njord were no longer about how overlooked he felt, but how terrible a man Njord was, and how he did not deserve what he had.

His back was turned; he would not know it was Njord who approached until the man spoke, and perhaps it was better that way, for a sight of him would have sent Sobo stalking wordlessly away.

The tide had gone out, much like the relationship between Njord and Sobo, and left the secrets of the ocean exposed. Small crabs took shelter in the seaweed as the corsair picked a careful path towards Sobo, who hunted the shallows alone.

“Sobo,” Njord said as he readied his heart to recieve his son’s piercing stare. There was no doubt in his mind that their relationship, though rocky before, had crumbeled. His hunt with Rosalyn made his poor position among the family pack clear.

“We havena shared words in a long while, an’ I know I am ta blame… but I hoped we may speak together now,” he asked, a drooping ear turned forward… hopeful.

He shot forward, muzzle knifing through water and closing on nothing. He emerged in an arc, snapping water from his jaws lashing his tongue over his lips, just in time for Njord to say his name. His hackles rippled.

Shaking the remaining water from his jowls, Sobo turned to level a sharp look upon his father. The man's new scars shocked him, but did little to garner his sympathy. They put him in mind of Rosalyn, though where his mother's marks were proof of her perseverance, Njord's were a reminder that no one could depend on him.

Sobo set his jaw. He wasn't particularly keen to hear his wayward father's words now, after so long, but he waited anyway and said nothing.

And there it was.

Dark pupils were like pinpricks against the verdigris of Sobo’s gaze in the bright light and Njord spied the masseter muscle pop as his son’s jaw tightened. Like the bite of a coastal winter storm, there was no warmth in his expression.

Njord’s posture softened, disarmed. Sobo did not leave. Even if there was no reconciliation, the young man would hear his father’s piece.

He took a few steps forward.

“It must hurt ta live with so much scorn in yer heart,” Njord observed sadly. “An’ I am sorry, because I ken I put it there. I’ve wronged ye, Sobo. I hurt ye. I felt it in tha bottom of ma heart, but I nev’r put words t’it. I didnae ken how.”

Too much time has passed.

“I wanted ye so bad, Sobo.” The timbre of Njord’s voice shook. “But I thought ye were not mine ta ‘av. I let us… ” The cadence of his words slowed as he severed the thought. He could make no excuse, though a memory hung in his mind like a cobweb.

“I am sorry, Sobo. For hurtin’ you. Mireille. All of it.”

Sobo listened, though he did not like what he heard.

He thought he was over this. He had put Njord on a pedestal in his youth and that had been a terrible mistake. He had cast the memory of Njord as da into the sea, but the scars ran deep, and Njord's attempt at an apology only slashed them open anew.

I do not believe dat you did not know how, said Sobo at last, resisting the childish urge to sneer. He was the Jade of Sapphique now. He had to be more mature than that, but he could speak his mind now that Njord apparently had time for him, when Sobo thought he ought to be spending it with the children he had more recently returned to. Sobo had already resigned himself to Njord's absence from his life, both emotionally and physically, but Stingray, Swordfish, and Mercy might yet forgive their father for his absence.

I do not t'ink dat you t'ought of me at all. You did not include me in your life. You left me out of your wedding day. You left only me out of it. I do not believe dat was not intentional. It was simply not possible that Loko and Mireille had been invited to participate while he had been left to be a mere spectator by chance. He was certain Coraline would have been involved, too, had she been able at the time. The alternative to being left out intentionally was that he was so insignificant, he had been completely overlooked. For Sobo, that was no better than being left out on purpose.

He made no mention of the broken promise of a coastal trip, either; this was not time for him to rake Njord over the coals, but to reaffirm his own boundaries. His father was attempting to apologize, but for Sobo, there was nothing left to reconcile. I was yours. You showed me dat meant not'ing to you. An apology cannot change dat. He did not mean it to come out so cold or so utterly dismissive, but it did, and his next suggestion did nothing to help, nor the way he looked pointedly away. You should spend your time wit' your wife and children now.

Njord felt full of contradictions. In one moment he wanted to grab Sobo by the shoulders, shake him, and angrily say it didn’t have to be this way. In another, he felt sad. Hurt by the hot lance of his son’s vitriol. And then, he felt oddly resigned. Wasn’t this the way their relationship should have been designed in the beginning? No connection between the two of them?

It was every father’s dream to be their son’s hero. Instead, Njord found himself the nemesis. Not because of his what he did, but because of what he didn’t do. The wedding… Sobo crumpled and discarded his apology like a piece of refuse and Njord’s eyes fell as if watching a piece of rotten meat bounce across the ground.

He opened his mouth as if to retort. This could be the last opportunity to explain the culpability of his actions. But what good would that do? Njord felt as if he swam against a riptide. Whatever his intentions, Sobo’s perspective was set. It would be impossible to change what his son felt was true… and maybe it was the actual truth. These things happened and Njord had hurt him.

“Aye, you’re right… an’ apology cannae change any of it,” he agreed regretfully. “But I needed ta tell ye that I was sorry these things ‘appened, and made ye feel so hurt an’ alone.”

A deep breath steadied the seafarer. He looked to Sobo stoically. Njord thought of his father Valtyr and the monk-like peace he was able to maintain even in the face of infighting and adversity. Despite his sons’ fiery attitudes, Valtyr had never wavered.

But where were they to go from here? Sobo had turned away and shut the door behind him. Njord didn’t think he would ever be able to do the same. The latch would always remain unlocked should Sobo ever wish to turn the key.

“I dinnae wish tae see us live at odds,” Njord voiced. The constant avoidance and agitation were unhealthy. They could have boundaries, yes, but this trajectory would only continue to fester. “Can there be peace between us?” he asked.

I'm sorry for him, I love Njord so. <3

Sobo clenched the muscle in his jaw again, listening, writhing in his own discomfort. Why could Njord not have simply returned and resumed ignoring his eldest son? That would have been the simplest course for all involved, for Sobo had come to terms with it in spite of his sullenness temporarily resurfacing with the man's return.

It would have been better than enduring Njord's plea for peace between them.

We are packmates. Dat is all dat be between you and I. He levelled two-toned eyes upon the man, his lips set in a firm line. We bot' work for de sake and betterment of Sapphique and her people. So long as dat is your goal, we are not at odds.

But if you were lookin' for somet'ing more, dat is not somet'ing I can give. He could not simply forget. He could not move past it. It would have been easier if he could be like Mireille and forgive Njord and continue to have a father-daughter relationship with the man, but he was not Mireille.

Sobo was too much like his mothers. He had worshipped Njord. He had loved his father more than anything, and he had been let down and felt he was cruelly treated on top of it. He could not bear the possibility of opening himself back up to that sort of pain again, and so he would never be able to trust Njord.

He would hold onto it and he would remember, and he would not let himself be let down ever again.

With Sobo’s answer, a new line in the sand was drawn. Njord would have to live with the knowledge that he had manifested a self-fulfilling prophecy. Despite his role outside the nuclear family circle, Njord could have been it all. He thought back to those feelings of isolation… and vowed to never again be beguiled by the illusion that his actions did not affect those who loved him.

Njord listened to Sobo’s stipulations. Perhaps the last kindness he could provide his son was to take his words to heart.

“Verra wheel,” the redtail acquiesced. He needed to trust these statements. “If that is ‘ow it must be, then let it be so. We willnae be at odds,” he affirmed.

Though his voice was steady, Njord’s spirit quaked. It was nearly impossible for the seafarer to simply shut off the feelings of failure and regret that flooded his mind. Now, with their pieces said, the man felt this meeting neared its conclusion. To say any more would beach the contract he had just agreed to.

It was done.

Sobo let his eyes linger on Njord for several beats before he turned back to the tide pools. It was as strong a dismissal as any words could convey, but he knew it would not go over well if he left it at that. He had buried the thought of Njord as his da. Now it was time to bury the hatchet for the good of Sapphique.

Dere be a good chance of octopus in de tide pools dis time of year, he grunted. Good meat for filling out.

Is it ok if we fade here? I’m getting the holiday whelmies and need to size down my threadlog. We must do another with these two soon!

Njord did not think he would ever be able to compartmentalize the complex feelings surrounding Sobo and their sundered relationship. Perhaps he would find a friend in Time. Days, months, or years could help a completely new relationship grow where the one between father and son had died. For now, Njord grieved.

As Sobo looked away Njord found himself powerless to place his gaze anywhere but. If his eyes turned, he felt Sobo might slip away for good.

An olive branch. A small breadcrumb placed before a trail Njord had never ventured.

“If ye can catch it,” Njord jeered in a kind way, though his voice was soft and without edge. He felt an actor in a farce – but went along with it all the same. He trusted that, eventually, these feelings would pass.

Njord stepped forward to hunt together with Sobo. A signature at the end of a contract.

Of course!

Likewise, Sobo felt he was only putting on an act, but it felt necessary for the good of Sapphique. He could hold Njord at arm's length when he was just another pack member, but not as the Jade. A civil relationship was his responsibility, whether or not it was his desire.

So he spent some time hunting octopus with his sire, and when they parted ways, he was mostly just glad for the neutrality he felt, like they were merely acquaintances, rather than the rankling jealousy of before.