He arrives to the thorny barrier like a wraith amidst the dying light of evening, a silent shadow amongst the trees, face set grimly in stone. Though in reality, Cerberus is more like a hound of war, an analogy that is, perhaps, more true now than ever before, with the new collections of scars that litter his striped pelt, some still pink and shiny in the low light. Ygritte is talented, but not all things can fade away so easily. He will always bear the physical reminders of being battered and broken - and still, he is not fully healed, in more ways than one. Even so, he will not be deterred from seeing them, from making sure that the young lives that make up his sister's final legacy are safe and well.

He thinks (hopes?) that @Alaric would not dare to let a single hair on their heads be harmed - but he will not trust such a thing so easily without seeing for himself. Cerberus is still their family's protector, after all. Even after...everything. For what else could the hound be, if not this?

He has half a mind to just shoulder his way through the barrier with no preamble, to slather himself in the mud of the swamp and masquerade as if he belongs there, so that he may search. But he suspects it may trouble Ygritte's mind, if he returns to the grove with new wounds inflicted by those who might see through his ploy. So for just this once, because it is important, he will do things the expected way and let out a series of chuffs for the man who called himself the King of this place, the man whom his sister had so cherished, for reasons Cerberus cannot yet fathom.

It's not as if Cerberus had never planned to exchange words with him, anyway.

SENTINEL

Evening loomed above as she slinked toward the call. A summons for a King, but she'd not scented Alaric nearby and thus, made a move to fulfill her duty. How good she is, how obedient she had become. The thought is a trickle, a slight irritation to grasp at her shifting ears, but a thought that would linger none the less. Growing.

"I am sure tha' th' King will attend ye shortly." The Scot queen's even tones filtered through the air as her slate form emerged from the swamp foliage. "I am Sláine Armour, sovereign of Ecrosia, can I help ye?" Sapphire gaze settled upon the male as she came to a stop.

Faint surprise rippled through the warrior's stare as she beheld the scarred lion before her. Despite his fresh wounds, the male was perhaps the most handsome of any she had ever met. In her opinion of course. Though it held no importance, and she did not let the thoughts show across her neutral features.

@Cerberus

code by corvus

Alaric had wondered about him more than once. Since the gruesome discover of his beloved Aidoneus he had thought of her brother several times, thinking of the male whom he had nearly begun to foster a camaraderie with. The Starke had not forgotten his presence at the birth of his children, nor the protective way he had always hovered when Aido was near.

He respected @Cerberus, and thus he had not forgotten him. When the thoughts of Aidoneus came (and they did, daily) they were frequently accompanied by thoughts of him, wondering what had happened to the man, and if he knew...

When the call came he is not surprised to find the source is that very man, yet feels quite suddenly as if he is walking to a funeral. The weight of loss rises fast to the front of his mind, and there is no joy on his expression when he stops near @Sláine to regard the striped sibling.

"Cerberus," he greeted, with a small inclination of his head, "you are always welcome here." It might seem a strange introduction to the sapphire Sovereign beside him, but it is the first thing he can think to say. It was important, to him, that the man know that Alaric's respect did not die with his heart; Cerberus was family, now.

coding and art by dusk

The first to arrive is not the one he expects to see, though @Sláine's presence is accepted gracefully enough all the same. "Greetings." The dark blue woman's accent is a curious thing. Were he in his normal spirits, he might've asked the Sovereign about it, but for now, his thoughts weigh heavy upon just one thing. "Thank you, but I'm afraid it is the King's aid that I require." And true to her word, the paler man does not take much longer to make his appearance from the gloom.

"@Alaric." He mirrors the greeting evenly, lavender gaze taking a moment to study the other's appearance in full. He looks much the same as Cerberus feels, though the wheat King lacks the evidence to suggest being physically torn apart as the hound had nearly been. But it's always the internal damage that is worse. The broken feeling rears its ugly head from the darkness again now, the ragged thought of 'Where were you when Aidoneus most needed you?', a vicious mirroring of the same question he asks himself.

But the other's welcome derails the destructive thoughts before they can reach his tongue, surprise pooling in his chest, a vague hint of it flashing across lavender eyes. It seems unexpected, that their connections to the once-brilliant maenad should be enough for Alaric to invite the hellhound into his home so easily. Should it be surprising? Cerberus doesn't know anymore. He simply breathes, blinking slow. Dips his head low in acceptance.

"Her children..." It's only natural, that the prevailing thought that had pulled him here should be the first words to pass his lips, in the end. There is much that could be said, some that should be and some that should not, but it is Aidoneus's final gifts to this word that have drawn their paths together, that have bound them as family. He may not fully understand the bond his sister had had with this man, but they are tethered by fate all the same. "I know you brought them here. I would like to see them."

SENTINEL

Those days were somewhat dark. Bruno knew his father, even if they were not close, per se. He had seemed different – darker, or more aloof. This, paired with the arrival of another set of half-siblings had him suspicious of what may be going on behind the scenes. The youth was slow to approach the call for leadership, knowing that such a call was not directly for him – not yet, perhaps not ever.

He nestled himself in a particularly large clump of foliage, making sure to avoid any small twigs that could snap and give away his position. Swiveling his ears forward atop his skull, he strained to hear what was being said. He could recognize his father's voice, and even Sláine's, but the other one – the third one – was foreign. "Her children... I know you brought them here. I would like to see them." Bruno pursed his lips into a thin line.

---

|| december y8 | 1y 4m | EM royalty | at ecrosia mire | HIDDEN - can be skipped ||
+10 - Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread
+5 - Spy on an individual exchange
+5 - Practice stealth

_CODE

Alaric did not give his trust easily. At least, not to most.

But this was Aidoneus' brother, and so he would give it blindly if only out of respect for the long-gone huntress. If Aidoneus loved @Cerberus then Alaric would learn to trust him more easily, for now he forces it and shoves down any feelings of discomfort that it brought.

"I did. They were alone..." There is an ache in his voice, then, but no sign of accusation. It was clear that Alaric blamed himself for that. "I buried her, first. In the thicket she loved so dearly. In the green." Cerberus had not asked but Alaric tells him all the same, wondering what the man would think of his decision to do so.

"Of course you are welcome to meet them. But they stay here." The latter part is said with a firm determination, bright greens seeking to hold his gaze, looking for any sign of argument.

coding and art by dusk

They've both been thrown into some unusual circumstances, a tragic situation that should not have been wrought into existence, far and away from the ideal that was that first sight of cubs curled up within their mother's embrace. Trust is not something that comes easily.

But for the sake of his remaining kin, Cerberus can at least try to find some sort of rapport with this man that his sister had so trusted. Until he was given reason not to.

'They were alone.' Perhaps @Alaric's own regrets have no intention of dredging up the hound's own, but his pale jaw still tightens, chin dipping fractionally. He'd taken far too long to return. He will not attempt to offer paltry excuses, though the story has been etched into his very hide. It's an odd twist of fate, in truth, that the thicket was the final resting for only one that day.

"...I'd hoped, that it was you that moved her." There'd been an unpleasant thought, when he'd found her remains absent, that the shadows of their past may have returned to collect her flesh in addition to her life. Perhaps it shouldn't matter much, when her mortal shell was now a hollow thing, but still, something within his chest loosens. "I know she wished to make a home of that place. Thank you for allowing her that final gift while I could not." It would be a lie to say that it does not still sting, to know that he was too late for this, too. But it is what it is - his gratitude is not a lie.

There is the resolve expected of a King, a hint of steel shining beneath the haze of grief in those deep green eyes not at all lost upon the hound, Alaric's agreement coming with its own stipulations. Cerberus's expression remains neutral as he stares steadily back, turning the meaning and consequences of this declaration over in his mind. His innermost nature is baring its teeth at the thought of the youngest Peithos remaining under the guardianship of others in a place yet largely unknown to him. But one rogue male can hardly offer more safety than a pride, even if Ygritte aided him. The winter will be unforgiving to such young lives.

And the children have already lost a home and a mother both. To think to separate them from the father's den may only cause more harm than good.

"Very well. Ecrosia shall be their home for as long as you have the means to keep them safe." So long as Cerberus can keep a watchful eye on them, he can find a way to make do with this. "But they still bear the Peitho's name. They should be able to learn of this side of their blood. I will teach them." The better parts of it, at least. He does not know what sorts of lives the Starke lead, but Cerberus knows the stories he wishes to tell. The warnings he must give, when they are old enough.

"Is there something you wish for in return for welcoming me here?" Everything has its price. Cerberus is a man of many talents - the wheat King need only speak a request.

SENTINEL

Alaric did not know what had happened that day, not entirely. Now, though? He was half afraid to ask. Alaric knew that if there was a thread to the Peitho's he would have to move heaven and earth to ensure it was eradicated. As long as his children lived he would be their shield, and if there was going to be trouble....

There was a tension that stretched between them for a moment. A pregnant pause in which Alaric held the other man in regard. He did not look away, remaining steady in his assessment, waiting for a response. How @Cerberus reacted would set the course for their relationship, and he was not sure if he would be met with resistance or not.

"Teach them whatever they need to know. Whatever she would have taught them." He fights to keep his voice steady, to keep the emotion separate, but it shakes just enough to betray him.

Talk shifts to the exchange, for what he would ask in return, and truthfully he had not thought of it. "There is nothing I need right now. Help me teach them, help me raise them, and that is all I ask. If the time comes that I require your help in another way I will ask." He would never force the man's hand, but he hoped that they would foster enough of a positive relationship to be considered allies at least, if not family.

coding and art by dusk

The King does not ask to know more about the events of that fateful day, and Cerberus does not volunteer the information. Maybe one day, he will have to put it all into words, if only so that @Alaric will know to be wary of the snakes that linger in the shadows, those twisted beasts that revel in the dance of blood and lies, bathed in hubris born of the suffering of others.

For now, he will simply let the wheat King read the story for himself. She is gone. And they are both changed.

The ground between them may not yet be the most stable of footing, much like the soft, damp earth upon which the other man has made his home. Trust not easily given, indeed. But a foothold must be made somewhere, if they are both to fulfill their duties, and they have both taken a step forward. The father and the guard dog, left to guard against the cruel fates together, an unlikely pair united in thr goal to protect. So shall it be.

"I will not claim to be a...replacement for her. But all of my knowledge is theirs to have." Hard is the way he swallows, his throat bobbing beneath the ebony waves of his mane. He trusts that Alaric will not comment on the way he chokes - just as he'd left the tremor in the King's voice in peace. The emotions veiled beneath their masks are another thing that does not need to be given voice. Not here.

Alaric does not ask for anything that the hound did not already plan to give, but it does not quite ease his mind. The threat of a debt yet unpaid lingers over his head like a sword on a thread, a prickling sensation that needles down his spine. What might be asked of him someday, he wonders? Only the fates may know. "Very well, Alaric. I will not stray far from them while they are so young. Call for me, and I will answer." Such is the pact that must be made, sealed with the sacrifice of his sister's blood, binding him to this place as surely as a divine chain. He dips his head low.

Hopefully, he will not come to regret it.

"If you have nothing else to ask of me...might I be able to visit them now?" He requests, lavender gaze flicking between the King and the quieter @Sláine. The children are probably resting now, as the sun slips ever farther down below the horizon. He does not intend to disturb them, but...he just wants to see.

/exit Cerberus w/ Alaric(?)

@Bruno ♔

SENTINEL

Therein lay the heart of the matter, didn't it? There could never be a replacement for Aidoneus. She was without equal in this world, no matter how he might train his heart to beat for another. It was, perhaps, unfair, for those that loved him in the after and those that he loved in return. This is not something Alaric considers, though. The love he is capable of giving now is all that he can manage; it does not occur to him that it may be lessened by grief.

"Good," is all he can think to say, anything more than that caught in his throat and beat down along with the rising tide of emotion. Alaric knows that he should ask more, demand more, beg answers where he had none. Maybe he would have if the mere notion did not exhaust him -- he was so tired of watching the shadows for enemies.

@Cerberus asks to see them and it is not a request he can deny. There is a part of him, too, that is proud to show off the youngest of his brood. The little pieces of his Aphrodite that remained earthside. "Come, then," he agreed with a small dip of his nose, glancing briefly at Slaine to ascertain if she would join them before turning in to the heart of the Mire.

-exit-