[ P ] Dad, I'm scared

Valois hadn't stopped running for hours. Once he had finally gotten out of the thick of the fighting, he'd barreled through a stall selling thrifted cloths. With a faded blue scarf around his neck, he'd slipped between the narrowest alleyways until his paws had ached from slapping against cobblestones. At some point, the scarf had been discarded, left behind over an ancient sewergrate. Once he'd made it out of Rionna, he'd taken off for the Redwood. There, Valois had stopped only to drink water and regroup before sprinting back to the Highlands. I never should have gone. Never. Fig was a fun friend—and a sassy bitch that'd lord escaping over him for years. But he realized now how fucking real that shit had gotten. This hadn't been some fun in the sun, yell about rights and entitlements parade. No, someone had thrown one too fucking many punches and suddenly Castle Stuart had exploded like a hive of ants. Soldiers had come out of nowhere. Common citizens had started frothing at the mouth like trained fucking fighters. Fuck that. He'd gotten out. One punch against that tawny soldier had been enough to wet and remove his appetite for organized violence. No matter who his father was, he wasn't a thug. But if anyone could protect him from the law, it'd be his dad. It hurt him to admit that, but he was scared. Terrified, really, of being thrown in that dungeon with Fig and anyone else who'd wanted to trifle with the royals. ... Valois peered out from his corner of their home. Soldiers had approached from the hill nearly 10 minutes after Valois had gotten there. His first instinct had been to hide and thank god, his father had agreed. Once the soldiers left, words about a draft on their tongues, Valois finally creeped out. “Dad," he gasped, still weary and bone-tired from his flight back up here. “What the fuck is going on?" His voice trembled somewhat as he looked to his father for answers. Maybe they weren't close, but he knew Lachlan would keep him safe. Lach was his dad afterall. “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."

@Lachlan

"I'm sorry Sir, as you can see," he paused and turned to show the scar on his leg and the took a few steps forward to show the limp that it caused him. "I'm too injured to be of any use to you..." Lachlan gave them a sheepish, apologetic grin as best he could with his mangled maw and they simply scoffed. "Is anyone else home?" "Just me. I live alone," he lied. Amelia wasn't here at the moment thankfully but he sure as hell wasn't going to offer her up for their silly little draft. They also didn't need to know about his boy he was currently hiding. He was too weak for the Army anyway. Valois a soldier? It almost made him want to laugh. A single ear tilted back as they stared him down, but he said nothing more and waited for them to leave. They took his word for it and bid farewell before heading to the next home.

What the hell was the King thinking? A draft?!

Once they were gone, Valois slipped out of his hiding place and questioned him. He turned to look at the boy and shook his head. "Don't call me that, kid. Makes me sound fucking old." he griped. "It looks like our wise and noble leader has decided to draft all able bodied wolves into the Army. That means you, aren't you so lucky." he teased.

A sigh escaped him and he limped over to Valois, curiously looking down on him now. "Why don't you tell me what the fuck is going on? What are you running from? Them?" he asked. He had hidden Valois without much of a thought but now that they were in the clear he wanted to know why he'd been hiding at all. He had limited knowledge of the protest and had no idea that it had gotten violent or that his son had been involved at all. He hadn't been interested, finding the politics of Rionnach uninteresting.


"speech"

"don't call me that, kid. makes me sound fucking old." Almost immediately, Valois' brow knit. He squared his shoulders, brilliant blue eyes narrowing. Although Lachlan had just hid him from the draft, Valois couldn't help but get mouthy in return. It wasn't in his nature to take an insult laying doing, even if he stood at a vast disadvantage. “They fucked with me first, down in the market." Not true. He had followed Fig down there because she had heard about a protest. However, he didn't care to give Lachlan the name of one of his only friends. Even if she did almost get him thrown into a dungeon cell. “It all went to shit. I managed to escape before they caught me." Valois' muzzle wrinkled as he remembered the chaos. Of course, he had been more afraid and fearful when he had finally made a break for it. Still, if he could make it sound like he'd connived his way into safety, then he'd prefer that. “But I didn't see those soldiers there, they couldn't have been after me." The soldier he had tangled with had been a fierce timber wolf with yellow eyes. “Fucking draft," Valois breathed, not even realizing the level of hot water he was in. But that didn't stop him from circling back to a bone he still had to pick with his dear old dad. Granted, Lachlan had never deserved that title. The fact that Valois had even called him that was a great dishonor on the very term. It cheapened his own mother's role even though she was likely dead and gone by now. At least she had loved him. Stepping forward, enjoying his new height as an adult, he met his father's gaze with a narrowed glare. “And, just so you know, you are really fuckin' old." “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."

@Lachlan

"Ah," he said as Valois spun his tale of woe. So the protests had turned violent and he'd been caught in the middle and fled like the child he was. "Maybe don't get involved next time if you can't handle things when they inevitably go to shit," he said, parting with what he might call fatherly wisdom. He huffed and shook his head, limping over closer to Valois as he muttered about the draft--"yeah, they might not have been after you now but they will be if they find you. You'd be perfect for the draft, just old enough to server out beloved country," he said with a laugh in his words. Lachlan probably could have done the same but nobody was going to catch him going out on a limb for anyone but himself. There was no way he'd fight for that stupid King and his cronies... he had other business to attend to that mattered far more.

Lachlan's ears flicked as Valois came even closer, stepping up to him now and giving him a little glare that had the older wolf tickled... until the little shit spoke up, that was. His muzzle wrinkled as much as it could and a low growl rumbled in his throat as he moved swiftly to push Valois up against the nearest wall. He pressed into the boy, his ember eyes glowing with fury. "I might be old but I can still kick your ass. You wanna do this now?" he growled as he glared back into Valois soft blue eyes. They reminded him so much of his mother but he held none of the same love for their son as he had for her.


"speech"

"Maybe don't get involved next time if you can't handle things when they inevitably go to shit." Valois' eyes burned as he met his father's gaze, blue boring into orange. In truth, they looked nothing like each other. Valois was mostly solid color, like his mother, and he'd inherited her eyes as well. The only part of him that he'd taken from Lachlan were those little sparks of russet running through his fur. Oh, and Valois still had all of his muzzle. This advice made Valois' blood boil, and he restrained the urge to launch himself at Lachlan. If it was anyone else... well... he might have. But something about his father—or sperm donor, really—still scared him. Whether it was the fear of being physically overpowered or being proven right that Lachlan really didn't give a shit, Valois couldn't have said. Odds were, it was safest to bet on both. Lachlan mentioned the draft next, laughing about how Valois was perfect for it now. Maybe it was meant as a lighthearted jest, but the young man was already on an internal, downward spiral. So you want me to die in that bloody, pointless, fucking war, huh? The thought sent anger radiating through his veins. You think I'd look good, dead on your fucking doorstep? Rage melded with the adrenaline he felt from it and, steadily, his inhibitions and fears faded away. To the point where he insulted his father, calling him really fucking old. Valois tamped down his sharp yelp when Lachlan swiftly shoved him against a wall, the man's ugly face now the entirety of what Valois could see. The boy's heart hammered in his chest as he wrinkled his muzzle, a growl in his throat as he stared back at his dear ol' abuser of a dad. "i might be old but i can still kick your ass. you wanna do this now?" “Lay a finger on me and you're fucking dead to me," Valois snarled. “You're dead to her—my mom too—if you aren't already." This was his last bit of leverage. It was the only thing he could wield. “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."

@Lachlan

Lachlan had never been close to any of his children but it was clear he did play favorites. His spawn with Amelia were treated far better than any of the others were and that was perhaps why most of them weren't around anymore. He had no qualms about beating some sense into Valois, that is until the boy began pulling desperately at strings he hadn't known were still there. "Lay a finger on me and you're fucking dead to me,", he snarled; but this was not much of a deterrence to the elder O'Conaill. “You're dead to her—my mom too—if you aren't already." It was the mention of Ana that caused Lachlan to pause and he tilted his chin up, eyes leveling with Valois' bitterly.

He knew how much Ana had cherished their son and he also knew Valois was right. Ana would be disgusted with him... but she wasn't here anymore. Was he supposed to be afraid of her ghost? "Using your dead mommy issues to save your ass." he hissed angrily. "Classy," he snorted irritably before releasing the boy and hobbling backwards a few steps.


"speech"

Valois wasn't sure what he expected when he dragged his mom's memory up from the grave. Her ghost seemed to fill the space between them and, as Valois waited for Lachlan's response, his body tensed. Blue eyes, Ana's eyes, met those of amber. Where Valois' gaze was angry, emotional, and admittedly fearful, Lachlan's was cold. The malicious fire from before seemed tempered but not with love. There'd be no pulling Valois into a hug or dropping the boy and regretting what he'd done. No, there was just— "Using your dead mommy issues to save your ass."

The broken skin upon Lachlan's torn muzzle stretched as the older man sneared. Valois stared, the callousness with which his father spoke of Ana like a punch to the stomach.

When he was released, his back smacked against the wall for a brief second. He took in the cripple of a crime lord that his mother had chosen. Valois' head began to spin as the life that she had left for him seemed to come crashing down on him all at once. It caused something to twist within his stomach until it finally broke.

"Never talk to me again," Valois snapped as he tried to shove past his dad and sprint out of the doorway, using his father's lame leg to his advantage. While he wanted to turn around and pummel the old man just to see how far he could take his rage, there was a part of him that was still afraid. And, deep down, still destroyed that his father wouldn't care.

Lachlan would strike him down like any layman or bastard in a bar. Because, finally, Valois understood the man's perspective all too clearly: Valois wasn't his son.

- exit valois -

template by bean

Lachlan could practically taste his son's anger and it only fueled him to show more cruelty towards the boy. He was so ungrateful for what he had that he forgot to show some god damn respect. He was going to say something else but Valois was already pushing past him, telling him to never speak to him again as he pushed against his injured side and sped out the door. Lachlan rounded on him, but he was too slow to catch him before he was already gone. A sneer painted across his scarred muzzle and he simply snorted and let the boy go. There was no way he'd catch up to him without putting himself in immense pain and he wasn't worth it, anyway.

He'd never see what Ana had seen in him, her precious child, he was just another mouth to feed in Lachlan's eyes. But he was grown now and he didn't need to worry about him anymore. Hell, all of his children were finally grown and they could take care of themselves, thank fucking god.

[ exit lachlan ]

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