Blackfeather Woods That's My Lullaby

@Damien

Her children. She loved them dearly, but she felt lacking with her eldest children. It was her fault. She made them grow up without her, and now she was realizing the consequences. She felt...distant to them. Sometimes she could not understand what was going through their brains anymore, why they acted the way they did. It upsetted her, because it was her fault. It was her responsibility to reconnect with her eldest children and prevent the same thing from happening to her youngest. If only she had the time...

Meldresi decided that she had sat and slept enough. The Night Queen untangled herself from her week-old children, swiftly grabbing a pelt and tucking it around them to keep them warm as they slept while she stretched out her limbs, walking out from the den and into the Glen.

She had made a good choice in using this Glen as a nursery and she wished that she had found it sooner. It was naturally well-protected and could be protected easily from here. The Glen was protected from sharp winds and warmed by the sun at it's zenith. The water here was cool and shallow enough for children to play with. To clean up the potentially dangerous rocks and holes was easy. It was a safe haven, though she did worry about the snow sometimes.

The Queen strode to the small pool and took deep gulps before striding in to it's depths and bathing. To tend to children was romantized by mothers; it was dirty, disgusting business in all honesty. Her pups had uncontrollable bodily functions at this time and she was their toilet. It felt good to be rid of those bodily fluids and be clean once more. She stood underneath the waterfall, letting the water rain down her head and trickle down her body, her eyes closed as she enjoyed what relief she could have before her pups awoke once more.

Whee! :D

Damien had been there all the time. He knew how to be silent, and he put it to practice very often. He wanted to keep his family safe, and although he knew Burke's testosterone wall wouldn't let him or anything go through the den's entrance, he had his reasons not to trust his father's desicions on who to grant access to his family.

Yes, he was bitter about the Grimnir issue still, and it wouldn't fade away in a long time. Not another one of his siblings would be harmed is he was there to prevent it. And he was there.

His ears pricked up when he heard his mother's footsteps into the glen. He'd been hiding in a corner, giving space to his mother, but close enough to catch a fly if it dared cross the den's entrance. Nothing of him moved other than his eyes, following his mother's form towards the cascade that showered her. But he hadn't seen her in way too long.

He didn't say anything as he got up and left his hiding spot. His eyes kept to the ground as he moved towards the waterfall, and stopping far enough from the water not to get wet, avoiding bothering his mother's shower, the eldest of Meldresi's children laid down on the cold stone, facing her in plain sight, and closed his eyes. The mere closeness to his mother made him feel more at peace.

Meldresi stepped out from underneath the waterfall, taking a few steps before shaking her pelt. She was clear of her eldest's son's area, sparing him of the annoyances of a few drops of water being placed on his dry pelt. When she felt as dry as she could, she walked over to her son — she knew of his presence long before she stole outside — and licked him gently on his forehead, from his brow to the back of his ears. "Damien." She murmured softly, the single word full of warmth and love. She knew of what happened with him, Cicero and Grimnir, but made no mention of the event, knowing how much it affected him. He needed to relax, now.

Striding a few lengths away to where the Glen was hit directly with sunlight, Meldresi stretched out languorously. Her eyes closed for a moment, but she opened one briefly and gestured to her son with her paw to come and join his mother in the light for once.

Damien did not hide from his mother. It appeared, somehow, that Meldresi was always aware of everything, in sight or not, that happened around her. Damien, although was good at using the shadows to move unseen, could never pretend to sneak past his mother. She was the queen of the shadows.

Damien's tail wagged as he felt, still close-eyed, that his mother approached him. The priestess' tongue rolled over Damien's forehead, and her motherly love felt warm all over his body. He had missed her so much. But she didn't settle beside him, and instead chose a spot where the sunlight hit the ground.

Damien's eyes opened, searching for Meldresi. He moved towards her in silence, and gently dropped to the ground beside her, resting his head on her forepaw. For a while, he just enjoyed the silence and his mother's touch, and his worries faded away. But then the thought of her, and the new pups made him feel uneasy again. Everything had changed about his image of Burke, who was the father of his new siblings. He did not know how to trust him anymore.

"Mother?" he spoke softly, "Did you know, too, that Grimnir was guilty?" he asked, hoping for his mother's wisdom to solve his inner troubles. He would always trust his mother. She had her reasons to do what she did. Always.

His head laying on her forepaw, Meldresi made a low noise of content in her throat before laying her head over his neck, curling as best as she could around him. He was a large boy, even now at one year of age, and she could no longer tuck him, or his siblings in the crook of her belly. That saddened her slightly, but at least she had two other children of hers that could fill the void, even for a time.

His question, though unintentional, drained away any mirth or simple content she had as she thought back to what happened. To see one of her own children, bleeding, to have heard her scream. The Night Queen shuddered almost violently, lifting her head off of her son's body. "I knew." She admitted quietly, knowing it wasn't what he wanted to hear. "I knew and I could do nothing." The word was broken by a choked sob as she recalled the moment again, seeing Potema going through nightmares and trauma was never something she liked to remember. "Potema did not remember her attacker, Damien. She was the only one who could have sealed Grimnir's fate from that moment, but the trauma of the event was too great — you were only babies then." She laid her head on her free paw, sighing softly. She was quiet for a few beats, trying to calm herself and beat back the memories of the attack and the recovery. When she spoke again, her voice was drenched in malice. "And then he mocked me with having children of his own." She would not have minded had it been Lusa simply getting pregnant, but the acknowledgement of Grimnir being the father of such a young mother's litter disgusted her. "I am glad they are gone."

Damien closed his eyes, knowing that his mother's response would most likely be something he did not want to hear. Burke and her shared everything, the secrets of the pack and the brotherhood included, and besides, if Damien and Cicero had figured it out at merely three months of age, what would stop Meldresi, the queen of cunning, from doing it herself.

And when Meldresi's response came, Damien's reaction was more unexpected than her words.

His eyes, narrowed in disappointment, stared at Meldresi's indigo eyes, clearly full of sorrow.

"What do you mean you couldn't do anything?" he asked, voice calm, but expression clearly troubled. He wanted to understand the reson not to kill Grimnir on suspicion. He was a threat. He attacked his sister. Meldresi's only daughter.

"To punish a pack wolf for mere suspicions is not looked well upon by most wolves, even in the Dark Brotherhood." She tried to make Damien understand that just because they were a pack of assassins and spies did not mean they were lawless vagrants. He could take his own revenge (though he had failed in that already), but she could not give the order. "Wolves may think you a tyrant, a madman, someone to be feared and hated rather than respected." Fear was for the enemy, respect was for the pack. She wanted her packmates to obey her because they thought her judgement was right and just, and for no other reason. When you fear a wolf, that fear turned into hate. She had already seen that many, many times. "We had no evidence Grimnir did it. No scent, no memory from Potema; we could not punish him just because he was the most likely candidate."

Meldresi sighed, laying her head back down on her son's side, closing her eyes for a brief moment. "Lusa was a fool for mating with him and an invalid for leaving the pack with such young children." She was disgusted by Lusa's decision, for she endangered her children the moment they left. There was a reason why packs were formed, and that was to protect the progeny of the pack inhabitants. "I hope they realize their mistake soon."

To Damien, there was no real difference between respect and fear. Both would make him feel superior, and he wouldn't mind which one he got as long as others recognized his power. But mother had a good point. Meldresi had always been a respected leader, while the outside world didn't even want to deal with her once they knew of her existence. Both were good things, because the context of each was different.

But Grimnir did not deserve mercy even if there was no proof for his guilt.

"You could have held a trial against him, let the Night Mother decide his fate, she would know the truth. But you didn't do anything to secure your daughter's safety..." he said, narrowing his eyes as anger flooded his voice again.

"Lusa and her children are just as guilty as he is... Lusa was never loyal to the pack, and their bastards will be just as rotten as their parents. They must die... All of them..."

"A trial cannot be a trial without witnesses, without evidence, all of which we lacked. A trial of which you speak of would be torturing a confession." She understood now what her son was thinking in that dark brain of his. He was thinking with emotion, with anger and vengeance rather than logic and thought. It was for those reasons that she was glad Cicero and Potema were there to temper her eldest son's dark thoughts. "Communing with any spirit with a clouded mind is bound to fail. By the time my mind was clear it was too late."

When Damien dared to say she did nothing to ensure her daughter's safety, Meldresi snapped, anger flooding out just as strong as Damien's. "I did all that I could!" She snarled before breaking off into a rack of coughing, the deep kind that came from the chest rather than the throat. When she recovered, she ignored the bout as if it was nothing, a growl still rumbling in her chest. "And how will you find them now? Do you know where they have gone?"

"But..." he stopped before saying that torturing him correctly would have gotten them the truth out of Grimnir, but mother's reasons were clear in Damien's mind now, and although they weren't what he would have done given the chance he knew it was the right way to do things. Meldresi was right, for as much as it enraged her son.

Meldresi snapped when Damien said she hadn't done anything to protect her daughter, but a bad coughing interrupted her. The boy looked at her with worry for a second, but when she recovered, he too ingored it as if it hadn't just happened.

The boy stayed silent for a moment, realizing for once that he did not know where to start looking for Grimnir and his band of bastards. And rage flodded him again. He wanted to blame Cicero for slowing him down when Grimnir escaped. He wanted to Blame Burke for stopping them halfway towards mother and not chasing after Grimnir immediately. He wanted to Blame mother for not doing anything in first place. But he didn't. He couldn't.

"I... I don't know..." he admitted, looking away with a frown.

When Damien realized his mistake and fell silent, Meldresi's anger was stemmed. She sighed, nosing Damien's face gently, looking at the scar that marred his handsome face. The price for his rashness. "You will not go to look for them." She said sternly, but softly. "They will not last the winter. Let them freeze and starve. But, if the Gods lead you to any of them in the Wilds, you have every right to slaughter them where they stand." She doubted anyone would oppose him either. Who would ally themselves with two fools and their spawn? 

She licked tentatively across his face, not wanting to irritate his scar, but wanting to impart every ounce of motherly affection she had for her son's devotion. She loved him, despite his flaws. He was the first child to slip from her womb, the first one she groomed, the first one to feed from her. There was a special bond between them that could never be broken. "You need to stay here and protect the pack. And train. Can you do that for me?"

Fade before I cry?

As his mother's tongue rolled over his face, Damien was reminded of his childhood. It had been rough, with Bane's disappearance, Potema's attack and many other ups and downs they had been through, but Meldresi was always there to make it feel like everything would be alright. Damien's eyes closed involuntarily, and he pressed his face closer to meldresi to feel her warmth.

The boy took his mother's orders without opposition. Nodding, he agreed not to go looking for Grimnir. Damien could be rash and impulsive and vengeful and many other things, but he was not stupid. Grimnir had made a mistake fleeing injured, in the brink of winter, with three pups and an injured female. The cold would take them good, and if they were lucky enough to get through the harsh winter, Damien would be happy to end their lives would they cross ways with him.

Damien didn't know where the nostalic tone in his mother's voice was coming from, but it surely went through as it was meant. Damien couldn't deny his mother's wishes, not now or ever, and besides he wasn't just about to leave his home. The boy looked at his mother's indigo eyes, those eyes filled him with peace every time. "I will not leave, Mother... I promise."

Yes please! ; n ;

Raking Damien's face with one last lick, she laid her head across her son's shoulders. It was quiet for a moment, those Meldresi stirred as her youngest children's whimpers could be heard. She sighed, then rose, shaking her pelt and stretching her body. Either they were hungry or they had awoken and sensed that she was gone. Either way, they would be crying in a few moments.

She looked down at her son and smiled, saying nothing more as she turned her back and slipped back into the den to soothe her fussy children. Whether she was aware it was the last time she would see her eldest son no one could say but the Gods themselves. But if she did know, she would have been glad that they got to spend this moment with each other before she passed.