Enforced Socialization (Ullor/Elske)

[Harbor]

Fenir was not pleased when he discovered that porcupines make for poor life decisions. Only the fact that Elske had spent the last three years training this hound convinced him not to do more than whine and alternately growl as she settled his head in her lap while he lay on his back before her so she could scrupulously cut or twist all of the embedded spines out of his mouth. She’d already spread a numbing solution over all of the affected areas, but had to pinch the end of his tongue for several minutes so he didn’t lick it off. ”It was bound to happen sooner or later,” she informed him, ”and better now than at a time when I’m unable to help you.”


The wolfish hound whined from somewhere in the middle of his throat, and by the pitch of it she knew he was just uncomfortable now rather than in pain. Hopefully the rest of this could be as painless as possible, though she was still fervently glad he’d already shown a tough disposition when it came to things that hurt him. Elske did her utmost to prevent any and all harms from coming to the dog, even at risk of herself. Her efforts were sometimes trampled by the dog himself, who wanted to do the same for Elske and didn’t have quite as firm a grasp on consequences as did she, but one of them had thus far always been in an adequate shape to manage the other’s hurts.


Elske gently slid a tiny, dull needle in around the base of one of the smaller spines, swirling it around and around the spine to keep its own needles pressed to its sides, and eased it out of Fenir’s upper lip, immediately dabbing it with a clean cloth and swiping it with an antibacterial cream. ”This is why we ought to hunt together as opposed to alone,” she quietly reminded him. ”Remember the skunk? And the elk had me on the run if it hadn’t been hampered by you.” Elske’s aim with an arrow was virtually faultless, but her right eye had been swelled shut at the time, and both her vision and her depth perception had suffered.


Some of the spines had to be cut out with the smallest blade on her pocket knife, which pained her comparably as it pained Fenir, but she worked quickly, wrapping her leg underneath his jaw to stop his flinching when she had to. Elske glanced up more than once at various rustlings, hoping Fenir wasn’t so distracted by the state of his mouth that he wouldn’t notice an intruder coming upon their camp, and did her best to remain observant as well. It wasn’t dusk yet, but it would be soon, and they weren’t so far from town that they shouldn’t expect visitors. But Fenir had to have the spines removed now, before he inadvertently shoved him deeper, so unless their visitor was worth more and different attention than he was, they were staying put.

[Aelodil]

((Gonna be joining this once I get the new character I'm writing up accepted ^^))

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Aelodil]

A small growl came from the throat of a large bear in the forest nearby Uru'baen. It wasn't a threatening growl, just a growl to inform Ullor that someone was nearby. Ullor turned towards the bear, his eyes seeming to be made of amber. He deftly swapped his enormous longbow to his left hand and placed his right hand on the bear's nose comfortably. It was his sign between his bear family to inform them he knew and needed them to stay calm. He turned towards where he had also noticed the presence of at least one human, perhaps elf. There was no reason for him to be afraid of them disrupting his hunting as he already hunted earlier. The one issue was that he didn't appreciate having people in the forest with him, and the bear family he was with appreciated it even less.

Quickly and quietly, he rushed over to where he saw a woman with what seemed like a huge dog. He thought about drawing his bow and arrow to just shoot them from a safe distance, but something told him the woman was an experienced hunter. Chances were she would hear the heavy taut of his longbow. But it was more than just that. He felt like she seemed familiar. He couldn't quite place it. There was just something about her that he couldn't quite place his finger on.

Instead of drawing his longbow, he took extra care to make no sound as he drew his two axes. Like always, the leather pouch they were in made no sound as he drew the axes. Quietly, he stalked towards them as if he was stalking prey. He made extra sure that he didn't step on any shrubs or branches while he approached. Just as he got right nearby them, he drew back with one hand and arched it so he would be ready to throw the ax. "I would appreciate it if you would tell me why you're in this forest. I would also appreciate an introduction. Of course, it'd be rude of me to expect an introduction without introducing myself first. My name is Ullor Ursidae and this is the forest I call home for now." Ullor made sure the bear skin draped around his shoulders with the bear head covered him enough where he would be unrecognizable, just in case she was from the city with sinister thoughts.

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Elske worked as quickly as she could, but no matter how quick someone was it was never quick enough when someone you loved was hurting. Fenir was lucky enough not to often have been injured or ill, but that also meant his constitution wasn't balanced for it. If he felt his human was threatened he'd try to fight without her permission, and he didn't understand just how much he could hurt himself. It was a difficult thing to explain to a dog.

Elske's legs were going numb from just the weight of his head in her lap, but she was used to it. The red-brown and white hound weighed more than she did, he was so large, and she was tall for a woman, and more muscled than most. Not that she wore the clothing that would allow others to readily notice that. Camarat likely disparaged at her preference for wearing bland and colorless clothing--a white shirt with a brown vest and pants were here preference--but it was what she was comfortable with. It was what she knew how to clean.

Fenir stiffened and Elske's eyes flicked through the edges of their camp, not yet wanting to alert any watchers to their vigilance. This still air didn't press any new scents Fenir's way but neither did it eradicate them. Fenir growled low, one grunt, and Elske relaxed. He only observed one possible threat. She continued working without hesitation, knowing her knives and several appropriately sized rocks were within her swift reach.

At last she saw him--the vague outline of a man--someone at least courteous enough to show himself before her and not behind. He reminded her of the human version of Fenir: oversized and shaggy. Elske smeared cream over another hole a removed quill had left in Fenir's cheek and only glanced at him as she worked. He by far outweighed her, and she couldn't see what he held cocked in is rearward hand. Her best defense was to throw him off by his own observations, and most men of his size and caution would be disconcerted by the sight of a woman with a wounded companion who didn't seem the slightest concerned by his sudden appearance.

She'd intended to at least be polite, but at his words she snorted. "Come off it, Master Ursidae. This forest is considered public property for a full fifteen miles surrounding the shiner. Only after that can you raise a house and call it your property." She had been attempting, in recent weeks, to return to her preferred, peasant dialect but in the palace, surrounded by glittering nobility, it had been difficult. Even in the forest now, outside the 'shiner'--cities being named for their expensive glass windows--she was so lost in the habit of fancy speech she couldn't yet entirely drop it.

She gave him another bland up-and-down, displeased that the immense bear hide he wore obscured his face. "We came out here to hunt. Fenir--" she lifted her chin toward the hound whose head lay back in her lap "Elske." She twitched a finger toward herself. "Have a seat, Ullor," she said, because that was what the human being she was still trying to convince herself she was ought to do. "We're only staying the night."

[Aelodil]

Ullor gave a clear hesitation at the snort. He wasn't exactly familiar with interacting with other human beings. Plus, snorting wasn't something he and the bears used often. Deciding to not take offense, he more or less ignored her comment. Ullor didn't exactly care for any of the technical dealings. As far as he was concerned, this forest was his and the bear's home. Trying to explain how territory worked to this human felt awkward to him. Nonetheless, he was persistent if nothing else. "Er.. how do I say this. Based on what I know of this forest, it is my home. Property is not something I understand well. All I really understand is territory." His voice sounded weird to him. It was very deep and husky, like he didn't talk much. Which wasn't wrong, really. Other than his primitive communications with the bears he never really talked much.

Deciding that for now she wasn't a threat, Ullor sheathed his axes. He didn't let his guard down, however. The woman might well have been sent to flush him out of the forest considering how many people from the city he'd scared off. If that was the case he was going to feel quite bad. He wasn't stupid enough to not attack a woman who was a threat or be naive enough to assume a woman couldn't be a threat but it didn't help make him feel any better when defending himself from a woman who was a threat.

From beneath his cloak that he wore, his eyes seemed to shine yellow as they reflected the light from the sun as it began to set. It gave him quite an uncanny look. Other than that, though, his face was completely hidden. Something he preferred to keep that way. For now, anyway. Considering how she blatantly looked him up and down, he wanted to look as inhospitable as possible. At her introduction, Ullor turned to look Fenir in the one eye that looked at him fiercely, the other eye closed shut as Fenir rested his head on Elske's lap. The two of them had their sort of alpha male dominance staring contest which Ullor broke off by turning his eyes back to Elske.

"I'll take you up on that offer." Not bothering to waste time, he took what little meat he still had with him and set to preparing a small little area so he could start a fire. After clearing a small location of any leaves and surrounding it with small rocks, he turned his back to the pair and began chopping some firewood for the fire with his axes. After a few minutes of work, he turned back to his little bonfire-to-be and set the firewood inside. As to not waste time, he set to work rubbing a stick with a log to start the fire and after it grew, he set his last five strips of meat upon it.

Sitting himself down finally, he glanced in the pair's direction and spoke out, "I only have enough meat to share for the night. Don't bother trying to refuse, I'd consider it rude." Making clear there was to be no arguing on this matter. He didn't bother telling them that he normally ate four strips of meat himself and would regret the two strips of meat he'd have to share with them, because that would be as if he were asking for a favor in return. As the meat began to cook, he added some herbs he had picked up to give some extra flavor and spice. Then he sat back, with his back resting on a tree trunk.

"So.. how is the outside world? It's been quite a long time since I last saw society. Last time I saw society, it was still quite messed up. Have people evolved enough to realize their mistakes or is the world still primitive?" Ullor wasn't quite sure what made him so talkative. He normally didn't say anything at all, even when he met people. It simply had become a habit. Mentally shrugging, he dismissed the thought as he waited for Elske to reply.

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Elske sighed. It had been decades since she’d been less interested in a fight, though perhaps that had something to do with living in the castle half-exclusively since returning to this accursed sore of a city. Being constantly on edge and mentally begging passerby to give her a reason to nearly break anything they gave her the opportunity to was an exhausting mental state to become immured within. ”Then I apologize for infringing on your home,” for that, at least, was something she had once known with familiarity, and still she wanted to defend the place, if it even still existed. ”And I assure you we’ll be gone soon after sunrise, if not before.” She suppressed a different sigh—they had to return to the palace. If nothing else than because she had estimated that this would be the day of her return, and on the chance that others now knew of it, she would wish upon Camarat no more contempt from others than they already hid from him because he’d brought a criminal into the palace.

Elske bent attentively over Fenir’s gaping mouth again. She had only a few spines left, and she saw to them with all the care she could muster, until around the time Ullor laid a number of heavy strips of meat over their fire. Elske smeared ointment over the last of Fenir’s holes and he immediately roused—when he stood and Elske sat, his shoulder was level with the top of her head, Fenir being, size-wise, the dog version of the massive man before them. She murmured a faint command to him when he went to lick the ointment from his jowls, and he sighed, and sat, nose twitching in Ullor’s direction.

Elske eyed the meat he’d presented, which was already beginning to brown around the edges, the meat cut with experience rather than chopped. ”For a strapping lad like you?” she asked, referring to the number of people and the number of strips. ”Would you consider it rude if I fetched the second course?” Elske stood, taking an unstrung shortbow and a quiver from where they’d lain behind her. The rabbits would be wound tightly into their dens at this hour, but the raccoons would be out all night.

She hesitated over Fenir. She didn’t want to leave him alone in the presence of a stranger of these proportions, when typically she wouldn’t worry, but neither did she want the stranger to wonder if the two of them didn’t mean to sneak up on him from behind. At last, trusting in Fenir’s judgment on when to fight and when to fetch her, she gave him the command to stay, and took her bow and arrows a short way into the forest. She and Ullor could probably still carry on a conversation if they both bellowed. Raccoons were brave creatures; she wouldn’t have to stray far to catch one.

She returned with two. She couldn’t clean them fast enough to serve with the meat Ullor had provided, but even if he didn’t wish to stay long enough to cook them she could see him off with one or the skins in thanks. So she unbuttoned her off-white sleeves and rolled them above her elbows, revealing the dusky blue cuffs dyed around each of her wrists, the first ones three fingers wide, starting at the wrist bones, the second rings only a finger wide each, a finger above the first ones. It was too dark even for her to see the horizontal scars below her left elbow, so she doubted he would. 

Sorting through the edible and inedible organs, Elske raised an eyebrow at the phrasing of his question. ”Unless you and I have more in common than we think, I’ll assume the messed up parts you saw are the same ones they’re still struggling with. There was a war that ended six months ago, and there’s a queen now instead of a king. I think she’ll do better by the country and the people than the last ruler, but I wouldn’t know.” She could know. Elske was in a position far high enough to make the queen’s acquaintance. But Elske was just a commoner, a vagrant, a thief and an accused murderer. Her time was better spent in her own presence than anyone else’s, particularly not a queen’s.

Elske rubbed her fingers into the nape of her neck grimacing as she always did when she thought of her own position in the palace, and her grimace only deepened when she realized she’d just rubbed blood into her hair. Well, at least it wasn’t the first time. ”Fenir,” she said, ”Muchka tolle.” Fenir went to her larger pack and nosed at it, and when Elske confirmed he had the right one, lifted it by one strap and brought it halfway around the fire to Ullor, where Elske asked him to leave it, then returned to Elske’s side, sitting warmly against her back. ”There’s a bottle of mead in the flat pocket between the shoulder straps, about halfway down toward the bottom. Help yourself.” Finished sorting, skinning and dividing, she laid the strips of raccoon on the wet sides of the skins, save for the pieces she started spreading over the hot rocks surrounding the fire.

”You’re lucky to get to live out here,” she commented, scrubbing her hands in the dirt, then wiping them on her trousers. Camarat may have perished to see her eating with such hands, but then again he had a penchant for surprising her, and on the whole had thus far proven to be of a sterner constitution than she’d expected. It was….different, speaking to the same person every day. Verging on pleasant some of those days, being able to voice similar irritations with someone who could verbally speak back. Fenir was an excellent hound, but there was something to be said for a human sense of humor.

[Aelodil]

Ullor noted Elske's sigh. He wasn't particularly sure if she was just frustrated or feeling indecisive, but either case he didn't want her to be feeling either. When she apologized for intruding on his home, he bowed his head slightly. A movement that, to him, meant quite a lot of respect. Though he wasn't sure she would understand the gesture, he was fairly certain Fenir would. Most animals understood one another, even if they were of different species. At her assurance, he felt a little awkward. It was not in his intention to be rude or insult her, nor to be aggressive. It was simply in his nature. Ullor being Ullor, he did not notice anything wrong with that until afterwards. Feeling bad for his mistake, he attempted an awkward apology. "I did not mean to be rude, nor to be aggressive. I'm sorry." His voice sounded husky in his ears, and he put it to a lack of drink.

While both he and Elske sat he finally was able to appreciate just how large Fenir was. Were Ullor to be changed into a wolf, then chances were he'd be the spitting image of Fenir. Eyeing the dog up and down, Ullor silently appreciated the muscular body Fenir had. Wondering quietly, Ullor questioned whether or not that was how his body looked to others. Giving a subtle shiver, he stopped thinking about it.

When Elske commented on the amount of meat in comparison to the amount of people and offered to fetch a secondary meal, Ullor felt slightly shocked. For one, he definitely appreciated her attentiveness in the matter and he appreciated even more the fact that she didn't refuse to eat but rather chose to catch even more food for them all. Ullor looked up slightly, his hide falling back slightly and revealing his face a little more. He gave a broad smile, mostly aimed towards Fenir. Though he truly felt grateful to Elske, he felt Fenir would understand him better. Ullor had always felt more attuned with nature and the animals more than anything else in the world.

Thinking on it a little, he thought out loud, "The last thing I remember of society was an elf that saved me after my mother gave birth to me and abandoned me with no one but bears around. The elf cast a spell on me to attune me with nature more deeply and since then I've been raised with bears and lived with bears. Far as I'm concerned, I personally am a bear. War.. it's an ugly thing. Rulers aren't exactly my cup of tea either."

Eyeing the pack brought to him by Fenir, Ullor gratefully opened the pocket Elske had described and took out the bottle of mead. "Thank you. Then, cheers." Quickly, he threw his head back and slowly drank small sips at a time. It wouldn't ever do to quickly chug a drink, as that wouldn't exactly satisfy one's thirst.

Raising an eyebrow, Ullor looked straight at Elske. "I'm lucky to live out here? Maybe, yes, but think about it this way. I have no idea what it is like to live with people. Nor will I understand the warmth of parents, of having a loving mother or a caring father. Of having an adorable sister or brother. I'll never understand any of that.

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Elske lifted a single eyebrow at his apology. ”No worries. I’m rude and aggressive myself.” There was something peculiar about his face, she thought, as the bear skin slid back just enough to allow her a glimpse of it. Something that unnerved her and made her stomach squirm. Not in the leave immediatelyfashion, thankfully. More watch closely, and pay very close attention now. Elske rubbed the bolts in the back of her neck with a grimace, hating the sensation.

She tried not to snort at his mention of elves. ”Good to know not everyone hates them,” she muttered. But that was fair enough—any people universally hated were likely creating that image themselves, for whatever purpose. It wasn’t an opinion one could trust, if everyone shared it. ”So where’d she leave you? Your mother.” Mothers and fathers abandoning unwanted children happened all the time, but typically they had more mercy than to simply abandon the child in the forest. Most were brave enough to drown them themselves, if they had decided their child didn’t deserve the life they’d been careless enough to grant them and rescind. Though she wondered why the bloody elf didn’t take him to safety, and instead did little more for him than his mother had, and left him there. More attuned to nature, be damned. A bear was a bear, and wolves were wolves.

Elske settled back against one of her packs and closed her eyes, fingers laced over her stomach. ”They aren’t the cup of tea of most sensible people,” she mused, wondering just where a man raised by bears acquired a human language, let alone human idioms. ”This one seems fair enough so far, not that I’ve had the dubious pleasure of ever seeing her.” No, Elske had been specifically avoiding that. The more power people had, the less she wanted to do with them.

Elske opened her eyes long enough to poke her chunks of raccoon, assuming Ullor would maintain responsibility over whatever kind of meat he’d contributed. Her slices were thinner, so may indeed be ready at the same time as his. Too bad she didn’t have anything to season them with, but she’d been planning on forgoing supper for herself—aside from bread—for little other reason than she’d been feeling lazy and that she wanted some measly incentive to go back to the castle. Elske was well capable of feeding herself, but she had, unwillingly, appreciated not having to catch, skin, gut, prepare, cook and preserve her own food of late. She extended a hand and gestured for the flask, wanting a sip herself. ”I’ve water too, if you’re thirsty for something other than spirits.”

[Aelodil]

Uru'baen. Somehow Ullor knew that was where his mother had given up on him before she even knew who he was. It was in parts of the memory that he got from the bears of his homeland. He didn't quite bother with any inkling of suspicion about Elske but rather found that he felt a tugging, nagging at him to know more about this woman than was revealed thus-far. Though he longed to completely ignore this feeling, experience had taught him to follow his gut sense. A rather unfortunate mention.

Raising an eyebrow at her, Ullor cocked his head slightly. "I never said I particularly care for Elves. I just care for them slightly more than I do for my mother. Which, mind you, is not a compliment by a mile. Oh, and she left me in Uru'baen. Not the place I would think to leave my child.. not alone, anyway. Especially not at that time." his voice was quite bitter. He rarely ever spoke of his mother and he had grown to not be affected by any old memories of her. But now that he had started talking about her he could not stop the anger that seeped through. His mother had been so selfish that she had abandoned her newborn infant in Uru'baen during the rein of Galbatorix and never made contact again.

A fresh scowl settled on his face, he answered her unspoken curiosity. "I do end up having to visit villages here and there. Though most people have come to dislike me just as much as I dislike them, I've spent enough time to learn the language." He didn't bother to comment on the fact that she hadn't met her. Most people wouldn't meet a ruler, regardless how great said ruler was.

Ullor kept an eye on his own meat as he kept it on the spit. He tended to it. He probably could season some spices from the vegetation growing in the forest, but he didn't care to. He preferred his meat just as it was, without any extra additives. Handing the flask back to Elske, he gave her a lopsided smile. "No thank you. Spirits are quite fine. It's not something I get often so I tend to savor it." Feeling finally slightly at ease, he pulled off his hood, revealing his hair and facial structures. He eyed Elske, daring her to say something at the glint in his eyes.

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Aelodil]

Yoyo, this is still alive if you're still up for it.

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Elske hummed to herself. ”It seems to me most women wouldn’t choose to leave a child in a city such as Uru’Baen, but I’ve not spent a lot of time around other women.” She’d nearly said ‘other mothers’, but she wasn’t certain the title of ‘mother’ applied to her. If a woman gave birth to a child that breathed, but that didn’t even make it more than a couple weeks, was she still a mother? Or had she just been one while her child survived? Even if Elske had a living child, was motherhood granted by the act of giving birth or the act of raising? It depended on who you asked, she imagined. She had yet to form a solid opinion, though it felt as though she were trying to grant herself more credit than she was due to call herself a mother yet.

Elske nodded. ”Did it come easily to you? Learning a language in bits and pieces like that?” She took a sip from the flask. ”I’ve traveled quite a bit, and had the opportunity to learn a few more. The dwarves are easier people to be around if you ever feel the need to be around sentient creatures who aren’t as frustrating as some of the others.” She tipped a shoulder. ”For the most part.” Some could be horribly religious, but so long as they didn’t try to convert her she had no grudges with them.

At Ullor’s attention to his roast, Elske poked a few fingers into the strips of raccoon she was rock-frying, found them reasonably cooked on one side, and flipped them one by one. Ullor finally lowered the hood that shaded his face, and as Elske sat back she glanced cursorily over his face as though he’d made a second introduction.

A stern, frigid fist clenched around her heart and yanked it down, and Elske felt her skin go cold. She pressed her lips together to keep her mouth from dropping open, but she knew her brow furrowed.

The stretch of his forehead, the angles of his cheekbone, the jawline she could only guess at beneath the shaggy beard. They followed all the same lines of those of her husband. It had been forty years since she’d seen him, but she’d drawn his face numerous times, from numerous angles, the moment she’d gotten her hands on pencil and paper she’d begun drawing him, believing already she would never see him again. If not because she didn’t think she’d find him, then because she didn’t think she deserved to.

Fenir laid his head in Elske’s lap and nosed at her hip, concerned. Absently she tugged one of his ears to reassure him, and began digging through one of her smaller satchels, looking for the small, battered book of drawings she nearly always kept on her, in case she ever forgot.

Elske found the notebook, and found the drawings of her husband with ease. They were near the front, and the most worn, yellowed and soft around all the edges, though she’d taken every care not to ever permit them to smear. Heart still chewing on her throat with fear, Elske rose, stood uncertainly on her side of the fire a moment, then sat a few feet closer to him, where they could reach each other if they stretched. She hesitated again, fingers hovering over the flat face she’d refused to lose, then turned the book so he could see it, but not so he could touch it. She would not risk all that was left of her husband. Or at least all that was left that she could have. ”Does this man look in any way familiar to you?” She let him see the first drawing, her favorite, then turned a page to another, and another, giving him time to regard each one if he wished.

[Aelodil]

Ullor noticed Elske's tongue slip for a moment. She seemed to be about to say something besides "other women" but stopped herself. Rather than pressing her for it, though, he held his peace. If she did not want to talk about it then he would not press her further. He knew all too well how painful some subjects could be. "No, it wasn't easy. But it was necessary, though I did not perceive it as such for the longest time. I have yet to meet a dwarf, unfortunately, but if I do end up near any, I will keep that in mind." He said as he dug into his food.

When Elske's expression changed, and for the worst, it was not wasted on Ullor. He caught onto it immediately and, raising a bushy eyebrow, eyed her curiously. He did not have a time to say anything, though, before she pulled something out of her satchel. Ullor set down his meal, curious.

He peered with an intensity unrivaled. Then he almost flinched as she stood up to walk closer to him. Calming himself, he relaxed and leaned over towards the notebook she had flipped towards him. At her words, everything in his life stopped. The forest seemed to go quiet, his heart seemed to stop beating, and his lungs appeared to hibernate. All he could feel was the pounding blood rushing and crashing through his brain.

Suddenly, he stood, face contorted in a primal snarl. "You.. knew my father. How? Where? Who was he? That man looks the exact same I did before I grew a beard. How did you know him? What was your relation with him? Did you kill him? Or is he still alive but had not the courage to come find me? Tell me. TELL ME" It was not until he began to shout that he realized how loud his voice had turned or how red rimmed his vision had become as he glared accusingly at Elske. He was not sure whether to be happy to know that he had finally met someone who knew his father or not. Did he even want to know about his father? Regardless, he stayed standing up, muscles bulging as he tried to restrain himself.

{Sorry had to rush a bit}

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Elske could see Ullor’s discomfort with being approached, and her heart felt abraded—it would feel that way regardless of whether she felt any kinship with him, she imagined. She felt the same way about others. They were better and better off the further they were away from her. Despite hating most humans on sight, she hated equally that anyone, regardless of who they were, should for whatever reason learn to hate their own kind.

Then Elske turned her notebook toward him, praying he wasn’t about to tear away the last pieces she had of her husband, and everything in her world seemed to all at once change.

She couldn’t have imagined how he’d react, whether or not he recognized her drawings. Certainly she hadn’t expected his immediate and snarling anger, but then, one of the few things Elske had never experienced in her overlong life was abandonment. She could not imagine how he felt.

Elske stood simultaneously, snapping her book away and pressing it into her stomach as though he’d take it away, putting her left shoulder to him. Fenir leaped to his feet and pressed himself against her right side. His raised voice prompted her to respond in kind, as was her instinct, but she sunk her claws into the desire to scream right back and shook her head. ”He was my husband!” she shouted back, not accusatory or angry, only loud enough for him to hear. Scrambling, she tried to remember all of his questions at once. Were she in his place, she would have wanted answers as succinctly and quickly as possible. He’d waited long enough.

She sucked in a breath. ”His name was Orsev. I don’t know if he’s still alive—I haven’t seen him in forty years.” Tears prickled at her eyes but she tore those back into her gut too—she had no right to them, not after what she’d done. It didn’t matter if she’d been deceived; she had made the mistake of believing. No matter how much she feared the answer, why should she ever have trusted the men who had taken him away in the first place? She took another deep breath, and forced herself to meet his eyes. He deserved to truly see her as she was. ”I know I don’t look it—that’s another story entirely—but forty years ago I was imprisoned in Uru’Baen. The people who took me didn’t know I was pregnant at the time. When I went into labor, they knocked me unconscious and cut a child free.” With shaking hands she unbuttoned her wool vest and whisked her shirt out of her waistband. Her fingers scrambled over the buckles of her brace so she could awkwardly lift it aside, then the undershirt beneath it, to expose the scar the length of her hand—it ran from between her hips up to her sternum. ”They later told me I’d had a son, and a week after that that he’d died. When I broke out four years later, I didn’t even look, I’m sorry. They had no reason to have kept you alive, so the answer made sense to me. I never went home after that. I felt I didn’t have the right.”

Elske shook her head, eyes closing briefly. ”I’d never have come back, but I wanted to see if there were any records proving my child’s death, or even birth. I had to know for certain.”

{Np, love.}

[Aelodil]

After his original outburst, Ullor slowly, but surely managed to calm himself down. Perhaps he had been a little selfish at the initial response of his. But then again, he was more than entitled to after what Elske had hidden from him. She knew his father. She knew the man who had sired him. For a moment, he managed to calm down. The blood continued to rush but it was no longer pounding his brain against his skull. His vision no longer was red-rimmed and his muscles relaxed rather than continue to exert themselves.

"He was my husband"... Those words rang in his head, louder than she had said it. His world suddenly took a turn for the worse. Rather than the overwhelming anger, he felt a sense of dread and loss of purpose. He tried, damn him, he tried to find a way to explain it other than this woman being his mother. But it all added up. The man in the picture was the spitting image of him, and the math added up. His world caved in on him as he realized that Elske was, actually, his mother.

Before he could respond to anything, she continued her explanation. His father was named Orsev, and he had no clue as to his age or if he even remained alive. Good, then. He did not want to know. Were his father still alive, Ullor would be disgusted that the man who had sired him had not bothered himself so much as to go looking for him even. Were he dead, well, that was for the best. At her comment about forty years ago, he raised an eyebrow. So she was at least 70 years old, and probably even older. At the mention of someone taking her, his mother, despite the fact that he did not appreciate her at all and though he borderline hated her, some beast within him rose its head and growled. He felt a sort of primal rage as he was tempted to hunt the men down himself and murder them.

Instead, he contented himself with flopping down to the floor like a sack of potatoes as it all rushed to him. He eyed the scar on his mother's body where he had been cut out and closed his eyes as he attempted to process all this information that rushed him. His initial emotion was resentment, disgust, and perhaps a bit of hate. Now he felt less of that and more understanding. Furthermore, kinship was still between them and that was something he wanted with another human but had never had in his life. He wanted that. He needed that. But he could not and would not forgive what she had done. Instead, he could forget. He could choose to forget that she had done. So he said as much, "Elske.. mother. I cannot and would not forgive you for that. Perhaps you did not choose it, but that does not mean you could not have stopped it or attempted to stop it. So I'll choose to forget. Maybe over time.. maybe we'll be able to get over the barriers. But until then, do not expect me to enjoy your presence."

At which point he promptly slumped backwards onto the stump of a tree, more roughly than he meant to as the sound reverberated through the silence of their little camp. He did not register the pain that barked through his back as he lamely began to pick at his food again.

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Fenir pressed heavily against Elske’s side, and she dropped to sit beside him, looping a loose arm around his back, appreciating his enforced affection. Her throat dry, she stared down into his thick fur for several moments, hiding her face, avoiding him, though she didn’t believe she had the right to avoid his anger. And, though the emotion twisted inside her, she was grateful for his rage, for no other reason than that it belonged to him. It belonged to him, even if she could no longer claim she did, or that he belonged to her. A family of strangers. Indeed, if she ever saw Orsev again, she’d likely only recognize him because of her drawings keeping shards of his memory fresh, and she no longer felt anything more than the barest, most exhausted traces of emotion connecting her to him.

Elske thunked her elbow onto her knee, and rested her temple on her fist, regarding him tiredly, entire being feeling watered-down and diluted.

Though she’d thought the word ‘mother’ used for her would please her, satisfy some long wanting that had never gratified, instead it abraded with guilt against her. She shook her head. ”I don’t deserve that yet. Elske will do. My full name is Elskenari, if you don’t feel friendly enough for that yet.” She’d understand if he didn’t. Even his fury she welcomed.

Elske listened quietly, and took a shuddering breath. ”I’ve no quarrel with anything you say.” Her lips cracked toward a smile. ”Besides, if you liked me you’d be among perhaps a dozen people out of all those I’ve ever met, none of whom I’ve seen in about a decade.” Might as well be honest. He already knew his mother had abandoned him; what else could she admit to that would be worse?

Elske glanced across at her abandoned boy, having turned into a man without her knowledge or presence, perhaps never having needed her. She breathed again, and scrubbed a hand down her face, thinking. There were huge gaps in his history, gaps which other people could fill with family knowledge, stories of grandparents and cousins. Elske had little information from her father’s side, having never met any of them, but she’d at least had stories. Each one was a string tying her into her own body so when struck her soul didn’t dislodge. How awful must it be to have no supports except those of one’s own making? In many ways, Ullor had had a harder life than had she.

”I was born in Marna, in the north, in September. I’m seventy-nine years old. My parents were Faren and Tilli, and my sister was Elskemina. All of us took sick one spring when I was fifteen, and I buried all the rest of them within a couple weeks. Had a good childhood, I suppose. We lived on a little farm a few hours’ walk from town.” She knocked her fists together, chewing the inside of her cheek, not knowing how much information he wanted, and what he would feel was an intrusion upon his privacy. Her history was his history too, he just hadn’t been given access to it before. ”Stop me whenever you’d like,” she said at last. ”In a single evening I can really only give you bits and pieces.”

Elske realized how much of her life tied to events taking place before she’d been born, and took another deep breath. ”Decades ago, Galbatorix started sending nobles who had displeased him into small towns and secluded country to raise families, keeping their own families as….” She waved a hand, searching for the word. ”Assurance for their good behavior. The disgraced nobles were made to raise children who could take the manners of the nobility but who had little influence themselves, like peasants. The children were eventually taken from their families to be made into soldiers who could hide anywhere, pretend to be anyone. Elskemina and I were supposed to be among them, but when my family died I left, and the soldiers missed me.

“I met Orsev while I was taking care of horses in another small town, when I was about twenty. We married within a year or two. He was a carpenter—had the most beautiful house, with whittlings and scenes everywhere in all the exposed wood.” Her lips flickered on a smile. ”For whatever reason, the few pregnancies I had earlier on I lost, and when I became pregnant some twenty years later, when Galbatorix’s soldiers found me and took me. They nearly killed Orsev in the process, but if he got to a healer within a few days he should have recovered.”

Elske glazed over the major events of her life: barely mentioning her four years in the lower dungeons; seeking out the elves, and what one in particular did to prolong her life; decades spent coming and going and wandering; guarding caravans for a while, taking scrubbing jobs in noble houses in the coldest weather; her occasional imprisonment and escapes, a few near-hangings; finding Fenir; that she’d fought in battles here and there, and in the battle of Uru’Baen only a few months ago; Lord Camarat’s mysterious appointment of her as his assistant, relatively recently. She’d never told all of it before, only shreds here and there to the rare individual, and frequently stopped to consider things she’d missed, the chunks coming out slightly uneven and in the wrong places.

{If you want to adjust things (such as Ullor stopping her in the middle) feel free, I’ll edit.}