[ P ] Your mama's got a 12-gauge held up high

**back dated thread to when Roisin first returns home**

villians aren't born
darling they're made

She was weary, but not necessarily in a bad way. Her two pups were older now, but not so old that they still didn’t require round the clock care. Just as her previous litters, they were the center of her world. There is nothing she wouldn't do for her children. That knowledge was melancholy though. Her love hadn't been enough for her other two children. It still weighed heavily on her heart, her eldest son was lost to the violence of war while her daughter had been snatched from her by Mainlanders.

There was a shadow of tiredness to her turquoise eyes, buried somewhere beneath the joys of being a motherhood, one that spoke of something beyond just taking care of her pups. Jacob was back and with him came the restless chatter of his supporters. It had set the highlands ablaze and she could already see the banners of war. A sigh would part her lips.

Today, she had left the children in the care of her father, even if it was at her demand. She needed a moment to herself. Leaving behind their den, she slipped into the shadows of the forest she called home.

In the quiet of Perth, she found peace here, despite the history. The winds of change were upon them, she could feel it in her bones. Jacob's return would just be the start of it. If he called his supporters to war, then they would go to war. But she had seen more than enough war, it had taken more from her than most. The only thing it hadn't taken from her was Luthais, and even if that seemed questionable somedays as he shouldered the weight of Chief and loss.

Lost in her own thoughts, she had almost missed the girl walking through the forest. Though she wasn't a girl anymore. She looked like Roisin. It had doing a double take. Freezing in place, she stood wide eyed, staring at the wolf like she was seeing a ghost. It had been years since she had seen her daughter and nearly all hope of ever seeing her again had been extinguished. But this wolf looked so much like her, it was as if she were simply staring at an older version of the girl would had been dragged away all those years ago.

It couldn't be...

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Her flight from Tir Na Nog had taken her deeper into the highlands. Elias' cruel words dogged her heels, snapping at them like a vicious predator. She did not return home right away - fear stalled her progress. Would they even want her there? It wasn't the first time Roisin considered her differences from the girl they had known to the woman she had become and the urge to turn back grew. She didn't know if she could bear to be rejected by the family she had longed for as she toiled away in service to the Vanadiums.

Red eyes anxiously scanned the wilds of her home and the pale form of her mother entered her view. Her mouth opened, no words passing through her lips and she ducked her head. The last time she'd seen Nairna had haunted her dreams for years. She'd begged the soldiers to tell her if her mother was okay and they wouldn't. She approached slowly, as shy as a baby fawn, ears flattened and head bowed. "Mama?" she called, voice shaky and uncertain. Her accent was clear in those few syllables, only a faint trace of highlander remained. She feared Nairna would see it as a rejection of her heritage and turn away from her in disgust.

"I-" she began, nose twitching at the faint scent of milk. Pups… Her parents had another litter. Another son like Kiel or a daughter to replace her? Maybe both. The news did not bring her joy, but heartache. "I'm sorry," she finally spoke, regret heavy in her tone. She felt responsible for not leaving the mainlands and coming home sooner. She'd been too scared to oppose the mainlander king and her Vanadium lord and lady. Jacob's return had given her a sense of security and made her bold enough to fight back.

Art by curiotea

**back dated thread to when Roisin first returns home**

villians aren't born
darling they're made

Mama? The name called to her on an instinctual level, it was laced with fear and uncertainty that spoke to a mothers undying love. Roisins voice was different now, she had matured from girl to woman. And there was a distinct lack of the gaelic lilt to her voice. It irked her, the mainlanders had stripped her daughter of her highlander heritage. But that didn't sit at the forefront of her mind for very long. Roisin was approaching, coming closer, giving Nairna a better look at her. Where Roisin cowered, looking as though she feared her mothers rejection, Nairna stood tall, proud. In all her years of love and loss, the Highlander woman had refused to bend the knee, even when it nearly broke her.

Roisins apology would snap her out of her catatonic state. "O mo ròs beag." (Oh my little rose.) It barely registered to the Highlander woman that her daughter was speaking in the common tongue. Without a moment of hesitation, she was rushing up to Roisin, dragging her daughter against her chest in a tight embrace. A sob parted her pale lips.

"O mo ròs beag." (Oh my little rose). She repeated fervently. "Is e mise a bu chòir a bhith duilich." (It is me who should be apologizing.) It was a mothers job to protect her children, and she had failed. She had failed both of her eldest children. Kiel was dead and Roisin had suffered a fate worse than death. Tears soon wet the olders cheeks. "Chan eil dad agad airson a leisgeul a ghabhail." (You have nothing to apologize for.) She spoke vehemently, pulling back just enough to look her daughter in the high.

In the moment, Nairna didn't know just how much her daughter had been altered. The accent was gone from her voice and she spoke the common tongue, but was that not to be expected when she had been dragged to mainlands? Where she was undoubtedly forced into their customs. It wouldn't matter though, in her mind, Roisin had done what she needed to survive, to ensure that she would be standing here today, returning home. A smile would soon touch Nairna's lips, one that warmed her eyes and had a deeply ingrained peace settling across her face. Her family was whole again.

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Roisin wanted nothing more than to fall into her mother's arms and forget that the last two years had ever happened. Traces of the mainlands still followed her. The way she spoke, her mannerisms and character were vastly different from the spirited girl she'd been. They had soiled her with their culture, washing out the highlander and leaving an empty shell to train as they pleased. Her subservience was evident as she refused to meet her mother's gaze and lowered her head partly out of habit partly out of shame. Her ears trembled when the familiar term of endearment was spoken. She didn't deserve it. She hadn't kept her vow to not let them break her. It didn't matter that the promise had been to herself to give her the courage to survive without her family.

"I-I can't…." she tried to tell her, fear of being rejected and chased away was all that held her tongue from admitting that she could no longer speak their tongue fluently. Her mother was holding her and smiling at her. Telling her the truth would ruin everything. "- believe it's you," she whispered, swallowing down a lump of regret in her throat. It wouldn't be long before Nairna realised that her daughter couldn't understand a lot of what she was saying, but for now she just wanted to pretend that everything was fine. The small flicker of happiness that bloomed in her chest was surrounded by shadows of grief and fear. The highlanders she had interacted with on her way to Perth had given her a taste of what she could expect at home. Would her mother still smile and call her her little rose when she realised the truth?

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villians aren't born
darling they're made

Brows furrowed, her features pinching with concern. Where Roisin had once started at her defiantly, she now kept her gaze down and her head lowered. "O mo nighean ghrinn, dè rinn iad ort?" (Oh my sweet girl, what have they done to you?) A profound sadness would overtake her then. Her daughter was home and for that she was overjoyed, but Roisin had suffered. She could see it now. It was her posture, her voice. "It's me." She would assure her, switching to the common tongue. The words felt strange on her tongue, and they were draped in her heavy accent.

She would stare at Roisin for a moment, taking her in and an understanding settling on her face. "You don't understand it anymore, do you?" Her voice was soft, coaxing what she already assumed to be fact. If she still spoke her native tongue, she would have done so.

The anger that burned in her veins would remain concealed. It wasn't directed at Roisin. She hadn't thought she could despise Mainlanders anymore than she already did. They had stolen her daughter from her, swept away from a foreign place and it was there that they broke her down, piece by piece. The highlands was gone from her smell, her voice, her very being. Nairna made a silent vow in that moment, they would pay and it would be a hefty price. "Its okay, you will learn." There was unwavering certainty in her voice. Roisin would find herself again.

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Roisin knew her mother would be sharp enough to discover the truth. The more she spoke in the common tongue with her mainlander tainted accent the more she revealed just how much she'd betrayed her homeland. Her paws quivered and her lip twitched with barely suppressed shame. The once bold Samaire daughter ducked her head and averted her gaze like a scolded child when Nairna gently pointed out her inability to understand gaelic. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away, nodding stiffly as tears blurred her crimson gaze. She'd let them train her like the perfect pet and now she was returning home with her tail between her legs. "I-I'm sorry," her voice trembled as she apologised, bowing her head out of habit. Shame burned through her cheeks to her ear tips and she finally stopped holding back the tears. "I'm so sorry. I've disgraced you and father. I wasn't strong enough… I let them do this to me," she admitted, taking full responsibility for how she'd changed over the years.

Her mother wasn't much different from her memories. Kind and always willing to love her even if she didn't deserve it. She squeezed her eyes shut and sniffled, at least trying to recover some of her dignity. "How old is your new litter? Father must be proud. Maybe one of them will make a worthy heir," she forced a pained smile, pretending that her heart wasn't being ripped apart by the thought of being replaced.

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villians aren't born
darling they're made

Squeezing her eyes shut, Roisin turned her head away, hiding her face in shame. "Do not apologize." Her tone was firm as she leaned towards her daughter, gently pressing her nose to the girls cheek. Pale brows pulled together as Roisin spoke of disgrace and weakness, of the failure she had become at the hands of the Mainlanders. "No." There was a finality to her voice, she would not be argued with. "You, mo ròs beag, are a survivor. You did what you had to, to survive." She would nudge under her daughters chin if she hadn't looked at her. Deep down, she knew Roisin would have to find her inner strength in the coming nothings as the clan learned to accept her again.

Your new litter. She didn't miss the pained smile on her daughters face. "Your brother and sister are a few months old now." She would gently force the connection, Searla and Raith were her siblings. "You are just as worthy as the rest of them." Her highlander accent was thick. "You will just have to work harder." There was no use in denying the simple fact that not everyone would welcome her back with open arms. Many would regard her with a highlander suspicion. But she was Samaire, she would persevere.

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Her mother’s love was as fierce as it was warm. "Do not apologize." Her head jerked and her mouth opened to utter another apology before she realised what she was doing and meekly nodded. There was nothing she could say that would convince her mother that she was a failure even if it was what she believed to be the truth. Roisin’s head was lowered when her nose nudged under her chin. Her body trembled, uncertain if she deserved the love that her mother was giving her. Survivor. She didn’t feel like one. She felt like the true Roisin had died in service of the Vanadiums and an impostor had returned home to take her place.

A few months old. Brother and sister. The feelings she had towards them were not of a doting older sister. Self loathing and resentment made her wish that they didn’t exist. If they didn’t then it would be easier for her to be accepted again. There would be no one for her to be compared to or for her to compete against. Guilt wrenched her stomach and she forced her smile to remain. ”I’m happy for you,” she lied, the words feeling like bile on her tongue.

”I..I should go see father,” she mumbled, head lowering again. If Nairna had been the jury then her father was the judge. Ultimately he would decide whether or not to accept her back into the clan again.

Exit

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