Thistle strode from the pack lands, she sniffed once. She had been feeling a cold coming on lately. She had been handling it well and so far she was doing alright. She tilted her head and continued on. She stayed away from the water as best she could, not wishing to exacerbate the cold even more than it already was. The salty air lay heavy on her fur, the simpliest of things feeling as if they were more heavy and bothersome than usual.
She knew it was merely the weakness in her limbs from her body fighting the infection. However, it still bothered her. She continued to walk finally making her way to a large stone that looked out over the ocean water. She scrambled up to the top and simply sat and looked out over the sea with a small smile on her maw.
Týrr wasn't sure what had came over him for him to be making his way to Stavanger Bay, especially given the last time. The newly named Nýeldur cringed at the memory. It hadn't been his proudest moment — subtly threatening to end the life of one of Ragnar's replacements for him because the boy did not like change and from what the young Rekkr saw was obviously unwilling to accept it; if that remained true, Týrr did not feel shame for considering then maybe ending the mini-me of Thistle's life. Change was inevitable and Gunnar had no choice but to accept it. Did anyone in that family ever stop to consider how Týrr felt about any of it? Did they stop to consider Týrr's feeling when his father was off spawning new children with his bitches because for some reason Týrr wasn't good enough? No, they didn't. Out of sight, out of mind. The closer the Rekkr got to Stavanger Bay the more agitation he felt. Let it go Týrr. You're better than that, better then them. Let it go, he worked to convince himself silently. He was left with the wistfulness that it worked. It was true, though. Thistle didn't care enough about him to even tell his father that he was in the Wilds, and Ragnar obviously didn't care. The meeting between them hadn't gone well, either; but Týrr was stronger for it. He wanted to cut all of his loose ends. With Thistle, with their spawn and with his supposed father.
He wanted liberation, he wanted freedom, he wanted to leave behind that family for good.
So their children (though he had a hard time seeing any Ragnar in them) could go on being whiny about change and moan about how they didn't like it and it wasn't fair, and Ragnar could go on trying to replace him and Thistle and Nerian could serve their only purpose to Ragnar: baby makers; and they could be a fucked up family without him.
He neared the borders, took a deep breath, and howled for one of them, both of them, even, content on making this the last time. He was ready to move on, ready to go down the path that he had set upon for himself with the invitation of Tuwawi and the new beginnings at Duskfire Glacier.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
Thistle herself sometimes battled with the thought that her husband, had only married her to spawn children. Often battled with the thought more than usual, that she was only a replacement and Nerian was the prize he had always wanted. She herself would have to wait for children, because too many childrne in one den. And Ragnar cared nothing of her thoughts, opinions or feelings on the matter. All he cared about was his sons and Nerian. At least these were the crippling thoughts that she battled, though they were not true. So she knew well the angst her step son troubled with. She had done well to stuff these thoughts down though, and she was existing with stuffed feelings doing her best to ignore the facts and the speculation.
She heard the howl from her place on the rock and she froze slightly. It was her husband's son. She gracefully embarked from the perch and lightly stepped towards him. She wagged her tail gently as she approached him from the side and chuffed gently. Is everything alright Tyrr? That woman did not bother did she? I told her she would have me to deal with if she did. Thistle was worried that he had been bothered, and it upset her. She may not be his favorite wolf, and he may very well hate her, and yes it hurt. But she wasn't a bout to let someone who was her family even if not by blood, be treated roughly by anyone, or taken from what he knew.
It figured that Ragnar would flake out of coming to see him. Perhaps the platinum Jarl had lost interest in his elder son, or soon to be disowned son. No, no, Ragnar wasn't disowning him, he was estranging himself from them all. Yes, that was it. Ragnar's soon to be estranged son. It was Thistle Cloud that answered the call and Týrr, out of well mannered politeness made an effort to hide his irritation. He was nothing less than a Prince, be it a Heathen Prince, or as the Amazon woman had insisted quite feverishly, an Amazon Prince. In truth, he hadn't spared the Amazon woman much thought and it was Thistle Cloud's question that brought that meeting to the forefront of his mind. The Rekkr brushed it off with an casual shrug. He wasn't going to be altruistic since she had asked, after all. You knew about that?
Týrr inquired, brows rising though in truth it would not have particularly bothered him the fact that the Amazon woman had apparently tracked him down caused his heart to skip a beat. Wait. She came to you looking for me?
Despite his loud protests and attempts at denial the fact that the woman had followed his scent meant that, perhaps, she had been telling the truth after all. Was he really the Amazon Prince she had called Tezcacoatl? But if it was true, then why couldn't he remember?
He was allowing Thistle Cloud to distract him from his initial mission — the only reason he had came here for in the first place but she had opened pandora's box and Týrr had no idea how to close it. Words spun around his head, confusing, screaming, clawing, making no sense and yet perfect sense all at once. If she followed my scent here, to Stavanger Bay then...she didn't happen upon me. There's no way. She was telling the truth, wasn't she? About who I am? That my name is really Tezcacoatl, and that I am not a Viking at all but an Amazon.
Týrr wanted answers. There was no mistaking that he wanted to let them have his message, that he was apart of Duskfire Glacier and that he was no longer apart of their family but the answers were more pressing.
There was a pressure in his chest and the strong curve of his heaved with each pant despite the coolness of the day. His whole life was what...just a lie? But it why can't I remember who I am? ...I know he told you. Please if you do anything for me, be honest with me.
Týrr was tired of lies, and after he estranged himself they could continue on lying to themselves but they were done lying to him.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
Thistle nodded Yes I do, she came asking about you. I told her to shove off and leave you alone, and that if she did not, she would have me to deal with and i meant it. She spoke with Ragnar as well. She grew quiet again, might as well tell him the truth of the matter, the female probably wanted a piece of her hide anyway.
Thistle shifted and lifted her head blue eyes gazing at him, their internal fire always bright and burning. She frowned and mumbling to herself Oh screw it your father can be angry with me if he so wishes. She chewed on her lip for a moment and then spoke I do not know all of it in it's entirety and some of it may have slipped my mind, he told me about it when i was Pregnant and I was a little out of it to say the least. She grew quiet again trying to remember, I believe there was a war, and you got hurt...and yes you are this Prince, though frankly it sounds as if you were nothing but a prince in name. Anyway, you got injured and you could not remember who you were, and so Ragnar and Floki gave you a new life and a new name. My understanding is that these women see men as nothing more than consorts or slaves or both, and the only reason you were called a prince, was simply because your mother was queen and no I do not know who your father was or much more than that.
Týrr was not interested in hearing excuses as to why Ragnar had not appeared, and why Thistle Cloud had arrived in his wake, despite that, in reality, she hadn't been making excuses for him. The use of word 'Your Father' did not quite fit in with the illusion shattering truth that was staring him in the face. A truth that he did not know what to do with. How could he be Tezcacoatl? He didn't have memories of that, had no memories but the ones that Floki and Ragnar had given to him. So, who was he? Was he Tezcacoatl? Or was he Týrr? Was he both of them or neither of them? He didn't know. All Týrr understood in that moment was that he was drowning in confusion, and trying to force himself to remember something that everyone was telling him, all of the sudden, that he was, was making his head pound with a headache. This was the last thing he had needed, especially right after the fact that he had finally decided who he was, who he wanted to be. And now this. Thistle had taken his small measure of confidence and security within him and ripped the seams wide apart. All those months of work, of searching, of the epiphany of Nýeldur gone in a mere matter of seconds with a small, harmless question. Except, it hadn't been harmless.
Týrr ignored Thistle Cloud's statement about telling Manauia off, or the fact that she told the Amazon woman that she would have to go through her to get to him. Obviously, she didn't because she had found Týrr, and it wasn't like, with this new knowledge, she was really his family. As far as he knew, Ragnar wasn't even really his father. What the hell?
The vulgar word burst from Týrr's lips ...the first and (hopefully) last time he would ever use such a word. Týrr was rarely vulgar and he didn't enjoy being vulgar because vulgarity clashed horribly with his refined mannerisms he had always prided himself upon. Why? What were they afraid of? Why did they have to lie to me? Why couldn't they just tell me I was Tezcacoatl and let me go back to my real family? Where I had an entire fucking guard of women looking for me and a mother who loves me, and has sent my guard out to move heaven and earth to find me?
It wasn't Thistle Cloud's fault and Týrr wasn't blaming her but she was the barer of bad news, she had opened Pandora's box and now she was in the cross hairs of Týrr's confusion and the pain of the betrayal.
Just...stop! Please, stop,
It bothered him, without any sort of explanation, that she was talking about Quetzalcoatl how she was — like he was just a pawn, like he was no better than any other male to them, that the title of Prince was only that: a title. She didn't know Quetzalcoatl ...though in truth, he didn't either. I have no father,
How could he continue to think of Ragnar as such when everything Ragnar had ever told him was a lie? I don't know if I am Tezcacoatl or Týrr or if I am someone else entirely,
Talk about an identity crisis. but I guess it doesn't really matter. This complicates, huh, everything but it doesn't change what I came here for.
She could tell Ragnar, or she didn't have too. Týrr didn't care anymore, knowing that the only wolves that he could trust were the wolves of Duskfire Glacier and Fox at this point in his life.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
Thistle laid her ears tight to her skull and backed up. Not really sure what to do, but she did know she did not want to be on the receiving end of his anger. She had enough drama in her own life, thanks very much. I'm sorry Tyrr, you asked for the truth.As for your questions I cannot answer them, because frankly I don't know. You will have ot ask your f....Ragnar about that. She did not wish to exacerbate his anger by calling ragnar his father, she would feel bad enough.
Her ears went tighter to her skull and she backed up even further when he asked her to stop. Sorry. Tyrr, regardless of what was done or said or hidden. Ragnar does love you in his own way. She grew quiet again and bowed her head, unsure what else to say. She was already having a bad day, and she didn't feel well on top of it. So this situation in her mind was much worse than she would like.
Perhaps you are all three. was her quiet response to his admission that he didn't know who he was. Okay what is it that you came for?
Týrr watched as Thistle Cloud's ears pivoted back to rest flush with her skull, crystalline eyes following the movement of her backing up, putting more space between them, despite that there had been a good bit of space between them to begin with. If the earthen Rekkr did not know better he might have called it fear that caused her to create more distance between them though he did not pretend to know her mind and his own mind was overloading on the information he was left to process to be able to adequately read her body language. She was retreating into the safety of her pack lands as if he had morphed into some sort of three headed monster from the depths of hell when in reality, he had never been more confused or vulnerable in his life. His world had just been shaken to it's core, the seams of his reality bloody and torn wide open and he was ...scared. Because he had no idea who he was. Being told that he was Tezcacoatl but not being able to remember anything of that life, but also having been convinced that he was Týrr, having nothing else to go off of.
Týrr took a deep breath as she retreated further into the Bay, so much that the distance was a little more than awkward, and added unnecessary guilt to the torrent of everything else he was feeling and could barely cope with. No he doesn't,
Týrr amended her in quiet defiance, his voice holding an edge of finality to it. He did not want to argue it with her. She could believe whatever she wanted and Týrr would believe what he wanted. Soon, he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. He had more important things to focus and worry upon then a family that he'd never really been apart of it. Learning the truth didn't necessarily make cutting the ties any easier, not easy as he thought it would have but it didn't matter. Either way, it needed to be done and prolonging it would only make it worse. It was like ripping off a band-aid. You had to be quick about it and not lose momentum half way through or else it would hinder you and a simple process would merely become unnecessarily drawn out.
I came to say that I'm estranging myself from this family. I'm just...done. Before even this came out, I was done,
Of course Thistle turning his world upside down didn't help matters any but it was done and there was no way she could take it back and no way he could forget. There was more to it, but he wanted to give her a chance to ask questions, if she had any of course. He understood if she couldn't care either way, it wasn't like he was her son or anything.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
Thistle stared at him and heard his words and then she spoke sharply You young man are acting like a spoiled child. Angry simply because your father, and don't sit there and tell me he isn't your father. Regardless of how it came about, he did care for you, taught you skills you would need to make a life, gave you things to strive for. Anyway, angry because your father has new children. That is ridiculous, and you can sit there and argue with me until you're blue in the face, if you so wish. But i Know jealousy when I see it, as i suffer from it myself. So do not sit there and tell me that is not it. She snorted at him and glared at him, fixing him with her best mom stare. You want so much to be your own idividiual, to be your own wolf, to be all grown up, but the way you are acting right now isn't such a way. If you want to estrange yourself from your family, I will not take that admittance. You will speak to @Ragnar about it not me. I've about had enough of you all and your selfishness. You are definitely your father's son. Do not get me wrong, I am sorry that you have had to suffer, and I am sorry that you did not know that you were this Quetzalcoatl. However I am not sorry to call you my step son, even right now and I know Ragnar is not sorry to call you son. And you are all three, Tyrr, Quetzalcoatl, and your own wolf you just have to figure out how to make it work. She grew quiet then, but sat still. She wondered briefly if he would attack her, she would be no match and he would probably seriously hurt her. But he needed to have a reality check. Yes it was awful that he had been deceived, but Ragnar had raised him to the best of his abilities, granted he should have told him the truth, but it was a moot point now. And frankly she was more upset that he felt the need to ostracize himself, merely because he was upset that he had siblings, siblings that were not even Ragnar's by blood much like him, it was foolish.
I am not denying that Ragnar should have told you this himself. And I told him the day would come when you would ask, but regardless he did help you, raise you, teach you, and yes he even loved you. I know you are confused and I know this is hard, but try and look at it all with an open mind. I am sorry Tyrr for whatever it is worth.
Týrr drew in a deep breath and let it out in a slow, heavy sigh when Thistle Cloud went off on him with this massive rant about how he was acting like a child, how Ragnar was his father, and how she knew about his jealousy. It was almost there on the tip of his tongue to let it casually slip that he had subtly threatened to end Gunnar's life for boo-whooing about having two mothers or whatever the hell was wrong with the child, but figured that would only make this situation explode like the ticking time bomb it already was. She didn't get it. It had nothing to do with his jealousy anymore. Finding out that he'd been lied to he was even more inclined to want to keep himself as far away from Ragnar's family — which he wasn't even really apart of — as possible. I am not one of your children so don't talk to me like you're my mother because you're not,
Týrr snapped at her before he clenched his jaw tight and stared at her, daring her to argue. Or to chide him again as if she had any real right.
Tezcacoatl, my name is Tezcacoatl,
He corrected her in a sharply, snorting in return at her, unable to help the building anticipation that he couldn't wait to get away from her. From Stavanger Bay. Just tell him that if he decides he's man enough to own up to all his lies he can find me at Duskfire Glacier. It's a newly formed pack branched off of Swiftcurrent Creek.”
He told her and then waited awkwardly for a response.
a crime so old as the sky and bone
Thistle stared at him and spoke softly Oh I know you are not one of my children Tyrr. Otherwise I would have gave you a right resounding cuff to the head for acting so abhorrently. I swear... she stopped and just shook her head, how did she ever end up in such a mess.
I"m sorry I can't pronounce it. She stood up irritated, and appalled at his mannerisms. He was being downright rude, granted yes she should not have chided him like a child, but he was acting like one. Actually he was acting like a beast, but she chose to ignore that and just focus on whatever the hell it was he needed to say.
She listened So you want your outrider trade. very well tell me about DuskFire Glacier. Who runs it? Why did they branch off? What important information can you give me without getting in trouble? Then she waited, she would give him this, let him have his outrider trade, regardless of everything else. She would do something nice for the boy before he completely wrote her off, having decided to hate her from the beginning.
Týrr ignored her statement about what she would do to him if he was one of her children, barely resisting the urge to tell her that if she tried she would be missing a paw and that all would be left would be a bloody stump. He wasn't sure what it was about Thistle Cloud and her offspring that made him so violent but he knew that for his own sake and for theirs as well, he needed to put them far, far behind him. Whether she was going to let him or not wasn't a contender. He was an adult and he was going to do what he wanted, if she had any sort of common sense, Týrr couldn't help but think she would let him do what he wanted and stop acting like she had any say on what he did or what he didn't do. She had no choice but to accept his ending all of his ties with them and if Ragnar had a problem with it...well then, Týrr didn't give a shit because it was obvious, proven many times, that Ragnar didn't give a shit about him. No, I want my Chronicler trade,
Týrr corrected her, but for the sake of wanting to earn it and prove himself to Njal and Tuwawi he needed to oblige her. It is run by Njal and Tuwawi Sveijarn, and they branched off to make a new life, a new legacy for them and their children. That's about it.
They were too new to have much else in terms of 'important information', which, admittedly, made it very easy to keep up with their history because it was so new.
It wasn't just Thistle Cloud that Týrr hated, but Ragnar and their spawn as well. He hated the whole damn Lodbrok family because, apparently, he wasn't enough of one to even be considered a Lodbrok. It made sense now, of course, Ragnar was a lying asshole who kept him from his real family for reasons that Týrr was sure were just as selfish as he thought them to be. And you're right, by the way. You shouldn't take my admittance, but only because I was never apart of your family in the first place. I can't estrange myself from a family I was never a part of. And you can tell Ragnar that and if he has a problem with it he knows where to find me.
But Týrr doubted Ragnar cared and so he didn't believe it would come out to a fight. With those words he offered her a grim smirk, turned and walked away because if he didn't he was likely to regret what was to come. He was confused, yes, but he couldn't deny that he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.
a crime so old as the sky and bone