[Shirnrad] Festering Rage

[Alistair]

48th of Ymiden, Arc 717

Continued From...

He was angry. Fridgar, at first. And then Alistair. They'd left the city and traveled down south, and yet in all that time, Alistair never spoke. He spoke minimally, one word answers, not making eye contact with his mate. He was enraged. His nails were digging into his palm. His teeth were grit and even grinding. He was so angry, and the more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Syroa had given him emotions, but among them all, none stronger than rage. As rare as his anger was, when it finally came, it was brutal and visceral. He was fury made form.

They stepped among the rolling hills, mounted on a pair of horses and traveling up and down each grassy knoll as the summer winds blew. Yet for as much as he enjoyed nature, and the exploration of new things, his inner fire had not calmed. Heat boiled within him, blood rushed to his brain, his temples felt feverish. Finally, he stepped down from the horse he was riding, pushed it to the floor and stuck his spear hard through its skull. The spear, masterwork and Terrendyte both, ripped through the horse's bones and brains in a singular lunging motion.

Alistair yelled.

"I don't get it, Fridgar," he said, clenching his fists and throwing the spear into the dirt among the grass. "I don't get why you wouldn't hold me. All I wanted was that one thing. And you couldn't see how afraid I am. You couldn't see how hurt I am. I don't get it," he shook his head. His eyes began to water. Alistair had become so incredibly emotionally volatile as a result of his "blessing", and Ellasin's presence was exacerbating that a hundred times over. He was scared, genuinely, scared. He'd been shirking his duties in the Coven -- he'd been running away from it like he wasn't a part of it. That had consequences.

He carried this burden of stress and fear always, and right now, all of those fearful emotions he kept stored were running rampant. Why couldn't Fridgar understand that? Why couldn't he see?

The mage looked his mate dead in the eye, before stomping over to him and pushing him back and gripping his leather jacket firmly with his fingertips, clinging to him as he threw his fit. "I was just trying to be clear, Fridgar. Can't you see that I could die? What would have happened if you disobeyed her, because I wasn't stern enough? She would ask me to kill you, and I'd say no. And that would be it, that would be the end..." He bit his lip, suppressing more anger from seeping into his voice.

"But you don't fucking care," he said, hurt. He was barely thinking about his words, now. He was just mad. His eyes were amber -- the mark had taken its toll, and now he could only see rage. "I have to be perfect, all the time. I always have to be strong, and wise, and I always have to be the one who cares. Otherwise, you'll get yourself killed. It's happened so many goddamn times I can't even count. So many times I've seen you almost die. So many... so many times. If you get me killed by defying the Matron, then I won't be there to save you anymore. So why?"

[Varthakh]

The journey was quiet, Fridgar had barely said anything, merely commented on the weather and the scenery as they rode on horseback. He still couldn't believe that the Kriger had given a Kinderkriger a free pair of horses, perhaps they were just the waste that no one wanted in Uthaldria? It made sense given the wider variety of choice the Lothar were given. they made no fuss over the returning of the horses either. it ended up being a good thing, because Alistair decided to mercilessly slaughter his horse. The beast whinnied in distress for the few brief trills it went on living with a mangled brain.

Fridgar looked to his mate with raised eyebrows, unsure. Did he just fancy walking to Ellasin? No, this was far direr. The giant leaped from his horse and slapped it on the rear, sending it running with a whinny. No other horse would perish to Alistair's wrath. Alistair started shouting, raving about how Fridgar had refused to cuddle him? By now, he'd calmed down massively, but Alistair had just got more and more angry. This festering rage had originated at their home, where Fridgar had gotten mad about Ellasin and took it out on his beloved, a mistake.

"Alistair, I-" too little too late, the human interrupted him and gripped his jacket, reaching up to hold him. Push as he might, Fridgar didn't budge. He would slide one foot back to get a better grip of his balance and engaged his core. Fridgar wasn't going anywhere. His rant continued to spiral out of control, speaking of how Ellasin would tell Alistair to kill Fridgar, then kill Alistair if he refused. In truth, he hadn't considered that. But Alistair hadn't considered that he wouldn't let that happen either way. Fridgar might have been overestimating himself, but he couldn't imagine a Lich would do very well after being smashed by a 16-foot giant bear with legendary strength, even by its own standards. Fridgar was confident, maybe cocky.

That was when Alistair said perhaps the most hurtful thing he'd ever said to Fridgar, trumping their earlier conversation by miles. He said that Fridgar didn't care, emphasised by throwing vulgarities about meaninglessly, as Fridgar often did. He looked down at Alistair in the eyes, he was calm if not a little hurt. Fridgar stayed quiet after Alistair's question and merely kept eye contact. Trills of silence would pass before Fridgar turned, ripping the man's hands from his leather jacket and leaving his back to the noble.

A shaky paw would reach into his pocket to fish about for his Redbear figurine, the one Alistair had made for him from the paw of the Redbear before focusing his being on the totem and casting a basic transformation. The change spanned a bit and hurt like hell, but Fridgar had grown to enjoy the pain of becoming. He grew in mass, several times over. and his clothes assimilated into his flesh, disappearing. Red fur grew all over his thickening hide as the form took its final changes. He sat in silence.

While on its arse, the Redbear measured sixteen-foot-tall, it was bigger than when they'd harvested the totem. Fridgar hunched over and buried his bear face in his giant paws as misery enveloped him. At least he couldn't cry in bear form, the extent of his pain would remain unknown to the human. Utilising echo, he spoke with the voice of Fridgar, echoing from his being without his mouth moving at all. "I do care, Alistair." his voice was flat and neutral, echo failed to present his emotions.

"I'm not trying to get you killed and I'm not trying to get myself killed, I'm just..." so fucking sorry? That would be a good place to start. Even so, he couldn't calm down the human, the only thing he would be able to do is sit back and take it until Alistair had decided he'd had enough.

► Show Spoiler

Echo: A Novice technique that is a shadow of what eventually becomes Evolve, Echo borrows senses and minor special abilities from a totem and overlays them with your natural form. The changes are always subtle and temporary, such as seeing in the dark, leaping with the grace of a gazelle, or tuning into the echolocation of a bat. One trait may be echoed at novice, with two at competence. At expertise, three traits and four at Mastery and Legendary. Although these traits are fairly easy to manifest, costing little ether.

[Alistair]

No. No, no, no no no no. This was wrong. This was so wrong. Fridgar pulled away, threw him off, turned his back. The mage's palms fell to the floor, as his eyes narrowed facing the dirt. His mate began to transform, and from early on, he already knew which form he'd begun to take. The Willow Redbear. That had been a wonderful day, between the two of them. They'd spent all of it together, saving a bear's dignity, killing two wretched men. That was the day he acquired Bear Whisperer. They'd had so many laughs.

Fridgar had always been good to him, no matter what. Why was he so... mad? Just because he wouldn't hold him? That wasn't his fault. Alistair... he could have worded himself better. So why was he so angry?

This mark, this bloody mark, had destroyed him and rebuilt him more times than he could count. It hollowed him out, then filled him again, with complexities he never before possessed. Right now, the same mark was funding this great fury, building it skyward and preventing the mage from thinking at all clearly. He was being... horrible. Even through the rage, he could see that. As he saw the bear hunch over and bury his face into his paws, Alistair's heart was struck with an immeasurable grief. Why was he always so awful?

Why don't I care? he asked himself. Why don't I think before I say these things?

He decided, at this moment, nightmares be damned. Thespian offered him terrible dreams for nights on end, but he had to use it. He had to control this rage, it was hurting Fridgar so much. Fridgar, his love. Fridgar, his mate. Just as this mark had created this disaster, it could contain it. He would make it contain it.

Channeling Syroa's power, the mage's heart grew still. Fury was cycled out, and replaced with grief alone. His enraged brows instead slumped into a solemn gaze, as his lips curved into a frown.

"I know you care, Fridgar," he said, emotion deep in his voice. The mage stepped over to his mate, and tried as best he could to weave into the paws of his lover, snuggling up against his fuzzy face and wet nose. "Can you turn back?" he asked. "Please? Please, don't hide from me, Fridgar. I'm sorry for being so awful. I can't help it -- I can't control myself. The mark... the mark... it makes me so angry. I didn't even know what anger was until she gave it to me, and now I--"

He looked down, sniffling, his lips quivering. "I just wanted to hold you... that's all I wanted. I was hurt when you turned away, and then it became anger, and -- now I've hurt you so much. I'm sorry. I'm so... so sorry." He couldn't handle this. He couldn't handle how awful he was, how horrible he was. He wanted it all to go away. He wanted the person he was to go away.

As foolish as it was, and as trivial as it was, he started to pray.

Please, Ymiden, he whispered quietly. Forgive me. Forgive me for everything I've done. And help me forgive him, before I burrow off into anger, before I thrash and yell. Don't let me be like this anymore. Please.

He whimpered. "Fridgar, I forgive you for all that. It was so minor, my love, I shouldn't have gotten so angry. Now... please, please forgive me. I know I don't deserve it, I was so awful to you. But it's only because I love you so much. I'm so afraid she'll ask me to hurt you. Please understand, Fridgar. Please," he begged, getting on his knees. He was breathing heavily, erratically. He was afraid. What if Fridgar didn't see him the same way after this? What if he didn't love him again?

[Varthakh]

Fridgar sat, trying his best not to tremble, even in the form of a Redbear. Being hunched over left him far lower than he'd have been otherwise. It hurt. Not the hunching, but Alistair's words. This sort of pain, he didn't feel often. The last time was when Rey'na walked out on him forever, he hasn't seen her since. Was this where he and Alistair parted? He desperately hoped not. No matter how cruel or cold his mate's words had been, he still loved the human more than anything, more than his pride could ever overrule.

It seemed that whenever they crossed words, Fridgar would immediately throw himself under the wagon and hope for it to be over soon. He was submissive and gentle like that, beating him mentally was far easier than trying to match him athletically; especially when it came to Alistair, who might as well have held the giant's heart in his hands. Words were never his strong point; the extent of his verbal combat was to blurt out random curse words in various orders and hope they made sense. While Alistair knew exactly where to hit and just how hard he needed to, even if he wanted to hurt his beloved's feelings, he probably couldn't.

At last, the smaller male spoke and tried to wiggle between Fridgar's large frontal paws and his fuzzy face. Internally, he was still crying, but externally, he appeared as a normal Redbear, save for the excessive height. Fridgar would allow passage to the smaller male and wrap him in his saddened warmth. The large, furry appendages held firm to the noble, the beast's head would rub it's cheek against the head of his beloved. In a matter of trills, his misery would slowly fade, replaced with the warmth of his dear rose.

But now, Alistair was hurting. "Alistair, I know. It's fine, really." Fridgar lied, though it would be impossible for the human to tell. He was hurt, the kind of hurt that didn't just go away with some snuggling, as nice as it was. Even so, he put himself at second priority and devoted his resources to making his beloved feel good. "I shouldn't have been such a cunt about the whole Ellasin thing, I should have hugged you; been the strong one. You were scared and needed consoling, I refused. You have every right to be mad." The bear would grunt beneath the echoing voice. "That, and I should probably man up a little when it comes to words. I'm sorry for being such a pussy, my darling."

Fridgar straightened his back, still holding the noble. He would be lifted from the floor with ease and the strain of the lift would be lessened as Fridgar laid back a little, presenting a surface for his tiny partner to lean against before laying all the way back and wrapping the man in his massive front paws. he hadn't said anything when the mage had asked him to turn back, but that was for a reason besides hiding from the world.

Fridgar's embrace was warm, filled with passion. His massive tongue would drag across the noble's face, soaking him with bear cooties. Even if Alistair had told him off several times in the past for the same thing, Fridgar needed kisses and Alistair had been a dick, it was only fitting for him to lick the noble. "I understand, my rose. Don't worry. It was the mark's fault, not yours and you only did it to protect me. I know I suck at looking after myself." Fridgar shifted a little, rubbing his body and scent into the noble.

"Of course I forgive you, please calm down, my beloved, you're starting to scare me.." Fridgar pleaded. it was rare that Alistair got like this, perhaps once a season. But when it rained, it poured. it was for the best that they had this conversation. Despite the harsh words of his mate, Fridgar had found a new resolve; stop throwing himself to the jaws of things that want to kill and eat him. In this case; Ellasin. "Whatever I need to do, Cariad, I'll do it... except for turn back. We need transportation and one of our horses is dead, fuck knows where the other one is... I'm sorry, but I don't want to waste the ether, especially with how easy it has been to overstep recently." Fridgar mused. For whatever reason, they hadn't spoke much of their sudden sharp decrease in power, but to each their own.

[Alistair]

His lover was so apologetic, so unwilling to see that his mate had done something wrong. He didn't fight, didn't argue, didn't stick up for himself. He only ensured that Alistair felt better, like he'd done no harm, like he was good. For all of his excuses however, he could not only blame the mark of Syroa forever. There was more darkness in him that what merely stemmed from the mark, and the mark itself was only a valid excuse if he'd even bothered trying to dispose of it.

He had to rise above excuses, apologies and tears. It was time for him to seek change. He believed that.

"It's okay, darling," he responded. "I was being far more a pussy than you. Makes me think those men at the bar had credible thoughts about me," the mage said, laughing lightly and coughing with his words. His chest still had a hard time not heaving, and he felt totally unwell. This sadness was not alone in its mark, it was surrounded by fear. That's where it had all come from.

Worst of all now was the fear that Fridgar would always remember the day Alistair lashed out at him, the hurtful things he said. He wouldn't forget this moment -- it would hurt him for trials to come. Many of them.

"I did want to protect you. That's part of why I got so angry," he said, frowning. "If I didn't care about what happened to you, it wouldn't matter. I could just let Ellasin kill you. But I could never do that, and that's why I--" he paused, stopping. He didn't need to go on and on about this, the conversation was over. Guilt would not lead to forgiveness, they were far from two equal halves. He needed silence, now.

As he sat quietly, Fridgar snuggled up against him, and licked him on the face. The mage blushed, a warmth growing in his chest. It felt oddly relaxing, being cuddled by literal Fridbear, though that was sort of odd to say. He decided not to speak up about it.

"Okay... fine. You don't have to turn back, but -- later tonight? Please? I still need that cuddle." He looked to the bear and frowned. It was obvious that Alistair wouldn't be able to forget so easily, but being able to caress his mate like he'd wanted to would certainly numb it. And... they would need to talk about this again, surely, and he wouldn't hold off on that reckoning. For now, though, Fridgar was right. Alistair blinked onto his back, and grabbed onto the sides of his neck so that he could hold on tightly as the bear rode.

"I haven't had problems overstepping," he said, shrugging. "Must be a Becoming thing," the mage stated, pointing for Fridgar to ride south. Shirnrad's windmills and farms were already in sight, just a few more miles of these hills and plains to go. "Let's go, love. The sooner we deal with Ellashit, the sooner we can feel comfortable again. Until then, you'll get to deal with Moodystair. Not a very likeable fellow, is he?"

[Varthakh]

The bear would grunt, displeased by Alistair's notions. "Those men at the bar are probably still recovering, you know," he mused, it was a pleasant thought - it was what they deserved after calling his beloved a pussy and making jokes of his wine. That's just who Fridgar was, overprotective to the point of hospitalising people for mildly offending someone he cared about.

"Then it's fine, isn't it? No need for tears," Fridgar hugged a little tighter into his beloved. "It was all for my sake, right?" he affirmed, while Alistair might not have been as distressed about the whole thing anymore, it certainly bothered the Lothar that Alistair thought that way. He'd hurt him because he cared? Fridgar couldn't wrap his head around it, but maybe if his beloved were as crazy or reckless as him without the ability to regenerate, Fridgar would also explode with anger? It was hard to say.

Fridgar sat up, exposing his back. The noble that clung to his chest would blink behind him and grip his fur, holding tightly. The giant beast would roll onto its front legs and pick up the noble's spear with its maw, he'd need it for sure. "You're always leaving this thing all over the place," Fridgar whinged, but still, he followed Alistair's directions to Shinrad. Maybe it was a good thing that he would be turning up ready for combat? Who knew?

"Weird," Fridgar spoke while in thought. "I could have sworn that I used to be able to unleash four times with no issues, but now I'm just exhausted after two! Maybe my spark is still weak? Who knows." Whatever the case, he was still far weaker than he'd ever been before. The beast would pick up the pace a little before speaking "Hold on tight, I'll get us there in a couple of bits." he would then break into a sprint, rushing at ungodly speeds for a beast of his proportions.

[Doran]

Alistair:

Knowledge:
Rhetoric: A sincere apology
Persuasion: Trying to get what you want with angry hyperbole
Discipline: Restraining your anger
Discipline: Using thespian to control emotions
Psychology: Acknowledging your own anger disorder

Location: Shirnrad
Me: Asshole
Me: Finding Forgiveness
Fridgar: Unable to argue back
Fridgar: Loves me more than anything
Ymiden: My New God

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Fame: N/A
Devotion: N/A

Points: 15

These points CANNOT be used for magic!

Fridgar:

Knowledge:
Becoming: Conserving ether
Psychology: The people you love can hurt you the most

Alistair: Has anger issues
Alistair: Promises to resolve his anger issues
Fridgar: A cry baby when Alistair is involved
Location: Shirnrad

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Fame: N/A
Devotion: N/A

Points: 15

These points CANNOT be used for magic!

Comments: This was a beautifully written and very emotional thread. I especially loved how you described Alistair’s reaction to Syroa’s mark and the emotional changes that come with it. It’s almost completely opposite to how Doran feels about being a Sesser. And Fridgar seems almost cute in this thread even though he’s this big and scary looking man/bear!

Picture: "After the Storm" by maf04, licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0./cropped and resized