There is obvious conflict in the boy’s face as he considers whether or not to allow Fell access to his mother. He doesn’t linger on it for too long, though, thankfully. Before Fell can begin to formulate an expiration time for his request, Ivo moves aside.

Kohelet is not so hesitant as Ivo was, and she rushes toward him at once. He catches her against his chest, wrapping his thick neck around hers and pulling her tight against him. The tentative ceasefire he has cultivated with the monster inside of him hums like a struck cord, and he teeters on it like a tightrope acrobat working to maintain their balance. It isn’t because of Kohelet, but the memories he has of himself when they were together last. They are tense and discordant, prone to twitching in discomfort rather than proper movement and change, and they strike against the threads that hold him and his demons together.

Once, Fell had been leashed to himself with a chain, heavy and aggravating. He could not adapt or change without immense effort, and any strike against the iron links sent his beast into a rage of discomfort and pain. Harmony was not the important part, only that the chain never broke, however oppressive and heavy it had to become.

The chain is gone, now. Fell doesn’t remember casting it off, or the havoc wrought by his newly unleashed monster. He had exhausted himself with riotous abandon and unbridled fury, and when he finally crashed and burned, his beast was… still there. Still viscous, but less irate. Fell’s movements no longer rubbed harshly against its skin or clanked loudly in its ears. Fell wished it would leave, take its cursed freedom and go, but he knew that it was part of him — it was him — and could not.

He came to realize that the chain was not keeping the monster inside, but holding the two halves of himself apart.

Fell is not whole. He doesn’t know if he will ever be. But the pieces of himself are tethered more closely together than they used to be, and they move more or less in synchrony. Instead of a chain, there are threads, many and delicate, but capable in their flexibility of withstanding enormous forces of change. The memories of bitter iron and sharp metallic impact cause these threads to shudder, but they are further from breaking than the chain ever was.

Fell’s bearded chin tilts reluctantly away from Kohelet as she pulls back to meet his eye, and he is not surprised to see tears on her cheeks. He doesn’t blame her for leaving, and in a bittersweet sort of way he is glad that she did. He knows, now, that he had to shatter in order to rebuild. The way he had been living with himself had been beyond hope. He could never have been good for Kohelet and their children if she had stayed.

He reaches for her face and gently flicks her tears away with a swipe of his upper lip. He doesn’t want her to leave, but he doesn’t think he has to say that. He doesn’t think Kohelet believes that he’ll chase them out again, now that they’ve come home. He brushes little kisses along the tracks of her tears, then against her temple, and plants a few along the crest of her neck as he makes his way around her to pull her back into their embrace. That should be answer enough.

stallion | marwari mutt | black | torn left ear | bay