Redtail Rise You came home, but do i really care?

It came to light that Gunnar had more faith in Stavanger Bay's survival than Mercury did, which was fine, they were not deigned to always agree with one another and neither should punish the other for their difference of opinion on things. Mercury's lip lifted with indignation when Gunnar growled at him once more, for the umpteenth time. Frankly, the dark skylark was growing tired of it, exasperated as he was with the whole situation. Gunnar had made it clear that he was upset with him, the continuous growls, to Mercury, were unnecessary. In truth, their anger was simply because they were butt hurt teenagers. Things happened and people left and lied and Mercury saw that adults accepted it and moved on. Holding grudges did nothing, especially for something so trivial — though this practice was by and far easier said then done. “But she wasn't with Nerian.” Mercury argued to his brother, whom just like everyone else, was still brushing her absence under the rug. “Nerian might have taken her but she had left the priestess a long time ago. You have more trust in the priestess than I ever did.” And this was not just because Ragnar had taken her as his second wife. Mercury hadn't cared what Ragnar had done, or chose to do. 

“Peregrine isn't Crete, Gunnar. You cannot judge a man by the words of his brother alone. That would be like saying because someone talks to me that you are just like me; we are starkly different, are we not?” In fact, there was little that was similar in them — the same of which went for Gyda. This was likely the origin of Mercury's black sheep feeling, when he'd been old enough to realize such things as differences. There was a bitter irony to Gunnar's words as he defended Ragnar against Crete, and Mercury couldn't help his mirthless laugh. “I suppose you have forgotten that Ragnar has done that himself. Or did you forget his bastard son? What about Tyrr? He injured him and then took him as a prisoner, and then made up an entire lie for his life.” Mercury wasn't so confident that the evidence he'd given Gunnar would cause the other boy to concede. Likely, Gunnar would have some excuse or defense lined up since he seemed to determined to keep Ragnar in (undeserved) martyrhood. 

“I don't worship Crete, neither do I see him as a hero,” Heroes were dead things and Mercury saw no sense in having one. “I gave him and the Redleaf-DiSarinno's of Flightless Falcons a chance and they welcomed me with open arms,” Albeit, so did Dagrun and the wolves of Odinn's Cove. Even Ragnar's younger brother, Vali though Mercury did not hold a high opinion of him. “Just as I gave Odinn's Cove a chance.” Mercury had not been sitting idle during the past six months as he split the time between the Cove and the Falcons. 

Mercury was silent when Gunnar offered what Mercury recognized to be an olive branch in the form of the names of their half siblings. There was no need to ask if they belonged to Ragnar, for he was confident that they did. “Yes, I would rather put our grievances behind us. These old wounds deserve to be healed.” The white flag of surrender was up, willingly, and offered with some measure of relief from the dark skylark.