Tithe

Tithe listened closely to what Halcyon said. Neither and both scenario had happened to him in the mountains of Spirane. Those he had been loyal to as a person had betrayed him and his loyalty to the land itself had been punished with a bite to the face. It seemed as though Pandora had been correct. Tithe was entirely too new to Moladion. The thought made the bastard’s lip curl in distain and a low rumble of fury echo from his chest. What sort of a world was this where blood was what dictated loyalty or worthiness for a crown. Shaking his head from the thoughts that began to once again plague him, he returned his focus to the young king he walked with.

My apologies, I did not mean to growl. The bitterness he felt did not sink into his voice. Somehow he managed to keep his tones cool and smooth. He thought of the youth’s words on loyalty. To him it sounded like he believed it had to be mutual, and nearly unspoken. If one spoke the words, the other could chorus without the meaning and feeling behind them. His heart crumbled within him. Only one who stood by his side had ever spoken the words they would do so. Now he questioned their truthfulness. Holding them up to her actions he could not help but believe it and trust it though he could not trust himself.

He looked up at the mountains that stared down at them in the distance. Halycon’s words rang true in his heart and in his soul. The pain Daenerys had awoken in him was unimaginable to the wolf she had fostered in her back before the rise and fall. He would not deny the comforting touch of revenge had brushed his consciousness and soothed his thoughts while he had healed in the foxhole. The caress had been blissfully excruciating. There had been times when only the presence of Pandora had been able to shake him from the embrace that called him.

Halycon stopped and looked up at him. Tithe, too ceased his movement. Following the Alpha’s lead he, too sat but towered over the male. With a flick of his ear he lowered himself to lay down beside him, bringing them on the same level and showing him the respect he deserved as an equal. The question concerned him, and the bigman dipped his head. Shame washed over him. Shame coupled with guilt. His concern that was if he admitted it, it would become true.

I always find interesting conversation in Iromar. He answered frankly, avoiding the question at first. A betrayal of my own. But I do not know who is the guilty. Perhaps we wronged each other. I stayed in the pack land, to try to keep it safe and strong. She challenged me for the crown, and I answered the call. She offered to let me stay, but I walked away. Silence fell for a time. A false sense of continued allegiance tried to keep Daenerys away from scrutiny. She had allowed him to stay, stating frankly she did not trust him. What was a home without the comfort of trust? His ears drooped. He longed to return to the high mountains, see his bats, and feel the knuckle bones within his grasp. He wanted his life back, who he was back. His claws dug into the ground in front of him, clinging to his need. There was a deep hole where his life and his deeds had been, and where they had been ripped away. The void had been filled with doubt and with pain.

What is a home without trust? Was it worth it to try to get it back? Was an apology enough to heal this wound?

She ripped away who you were. She made you a monster. She never even spoke to you before she called for your blood.

But I answered. I allowed it.