Caedes had been making good use of his open invitation to Elysium it seemed, and Alastor was quite pleased with that fact. Knowing that his daughter and her lover were no longer sneaking off to hidden caves in wild lands to enjoy their trysts brought some peace to his mind. At least here, in his house, he knew they could be safe to be together. Safer than if Caedes' family found them, at the very least. Alastor had enjoyed his initial interaction with Caedes and had found the Saxe brute to be refreshingly direct and honest. He was used to other wolves trying to dress up their words or intentions with frills and fluff to make themselves look better, but not Caedes. The dark wolf was unapologetically himself. In many ways, he reminded Alastor of a more taciturn version of himself. He was keen to get to spend more time with his daughter's partner and get to know him better—it would be needed if Caedes decided to take the leap of faith as he had years ago.

Timing was everything. Alastor knew that Mariah would keep Caedes tied up for a significant while, and that eventually the pair of impassioned lovers would need to take a break. That was when he ambushed the other brute for some bonding time of a different variety, asking Caedes to give Mariah a break from their vigorous activities so they could have some time to get to know one another better. He supposed he really should find a better way of intercepting Caedes instead of catching him post-coitus every time... Oh well! That was a concern for future Alastor.

Following dinner, Alastor headed down the mountain to the rocky shores with a pair of bottles of aged whiskey in his jaws, finding a clear spot where he could build a fire on the beach. He assembled it from some driftwood and deadwood from the nearby pine forest, then lit the fire and fed it til the flames crackled and rose to illuminate and warm the area. Then he flopped back to his haunches beside the fire with a sigh, slicing the top off one of the bottles with his gemstone claws, then gazing out over the dark ocean and the colorful bands of lights in the starry sky while he waited for their guest to come share a drink with him.

"Alastor Mendacium"

After asking Mariah to rest, Caedes sought out her father, driven by respect for Alastor's openness in allowing his visits and a growing curiosity about the man's intentions. What did Alastor hope to gain from this invitation? Or was this simply the "getting to know one another" part of the arrangement he had expressed?

Descending the mountain to the rocky shores, Caedes moved with purpose, his powerful frame casting a long shadow in the moonlight. The glow of Alastor's fire was a beacon, guiding him in. He saw the elder wolf, his silhouette stark against the flickering flames and the star-studded sky.

As he approached, his emerald eyes met Alastor's. He understood the gesture's significance — an attempt by Alastor to know him better. Without a word, Caedes sat down near enough to feel the fire's warmth against the cool ocean breeze. After a few moments, Caedes broke the silence, his voice a low rumble. “I appreciate the invitation, Alastor. It is good to be here, with her.” Emeralds flickered down to the bottles, taking note of what they contained. Whisky. Caedes wondered if the brute had chosen specifically, or if it was a simple coincidence he’d brought out the scarred brute’s poison of choice. “Do you mean to get me drunk, Alastor? Is that your ulterior motive?” He quirked up a brow, a half smirk raising the edges of his lips.

"speaking"

Alastor was a couple deep sips into his whiskey when the sound of heavy paws on the pebbly beach alerted him to the presence of another. He didn't need to turn his head to confirm who his company was, but he did look over to greet Caedes with his signature grin that showed just a bit too much teeth to be comfortable for any who didn't know the manic brute. "Caedes! Thank you for sparing some time to entertain an old wolf." Alastor grabbed the unopened bottle of whiskey and easily cut the top off with his claws, handing the liquor over to the other brute. Al watched as Caedes appraised the drinks. Was he suspicious that perhaps they had been poisoned? The thought brought a deep chuckle to the Mendacium brute.

The question Caedes responded with earned him a barking laugh from the other dire brute, obsidian eyes turning Caedes' way with a playful grin. "That depends, is it working?" he teased with a dramatic flutter of eyelids over dark eyes. "My boy, if I intended to do anything untoward to you, I would have done so already, no liquor needed! Besides, I don't think either of us are the other's type." Alastor took a slow sip of whiskey, letting the liquid burn its way down his throat into his belly. He didn't know how well Caedes could handle his liquor, but a whole bottle of high proof bourbon with some more on standby would find that limit. "No, I simply wished to get to know the brute who's fucking my daughter. And the whiskey... well, I just like it! I thought you might as well." Crude and direct, but Alastor was never one to beat around the bush or sugarcoat reality. Whiskey was the perfect brute's drink for the harsh, cold climate of their northern home, especially in the dead of winter.

Alastor pushed the fresh bottle of whiskey closer to Caedes with the back of his paw, a not-so-subtle gesture for him to join him in libations. "So let's chit-chat for a while. You know so much about my family, yet I know precious little of your own. Tell me about the Saxe family, Caedes. Tell me about you and your place in their world." Alastor's attention was all on the much younger brute, though his eyes remained out on the Stygian sea. He wanted to hear Caedes describe who he was and how he saw himself. If things went well for them this evening, perhaps the Saxe wolf even learn more about the fire-marked brute as well.

"Alastor Mendacium"

Alastor greeted Caedes with a casual flick of his claws, slicing the top off the whiskey bottle before handing it over. His manic grin and bark of laughter at Caedes' question were met with a half-smirk from the younger wolf.

‘That depends, is it working?’ Alastor teased, adding comments about his lack of intention to harm and not being one another’s type. This last line caused Caedes to huff in amusement. Accepting the bottle, he appreciated the elder's directness. He took a swig, letting the burn settle before responding.

“I can respect that.” Caedes replied, raising the bottle in a silent toast before taking another drink. Alastor's forthrightness inclined him to cooperate.

Caedes took a moment to gather his thoughts, staring into the fire. “The Saxe family... we are not known for our warmth,” He began, his voice a low rumble. “Our world is one of survival, strength, and brutal hierarchy. My place... I am a fighter, a protector, a healer. My mother, her siblings, her cousins, my cousins — they value power above all.”

He glanced at Alastor, gauging his reaction before continuing, looking out at the ocean as he spoke. “We have all seen our share of bloodshed. Out of necessity, out of pleasure. Loyalty is earned through blood, fear, and respect, not love. It is the Saxe way.” Caedes paused, taking another drink. He looked back at Alastor, his emerald eyes steady. The fire crackled between them, the ocean's rhythmic crashing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Caedes' words hung in the air, a raw transparency not usually seen from the beast. He waited, curious to see how Mariah's father would respond to his candid revelations. After all, the night was young, and these were but the surface level of details he could share.

"speaking"

It might have been a slow process to get Caedes to show any sort of real emotion or reaction, but Alastor's tenacity finally earned him an amused chuff from the other brute. Caedes took the bottle of whiskey and, with a wordless toast raised, the two men drank together. Ah, father and potential son-in-law bonding... When asked about his family and himself, Caedes' stories were short and simple. The Saxes were not known for warmth or welcoming, but brutality and strength. Yes, Alastor had gotten that impression just by looking over the other brute's body, a veritable canvas of scars. Where he fit into all that was as a warrior and a healer. That intrigued Alastor, and suddenly the Mendacium patriarch realized what shared interests the man and his daughter had in common. Both dealt in the world of healing, medicines, and poisons. He imagined they made a good pair if they shared their passions with one another outside of just the bedroom.

Alastor's expression remained fairly neutral, taking in Cae's story in stride, reserving his thoughts until the end. As Caedes explained the Saxe way of being one made from fear and respect earned through bloodshed, Alastor gave a considering nod, swishing his whiskey about before pulling another long drink. He was a large brute and it would take a lot to get him drunk, but he was already on his way toward a pleasant buzz. "Well, that explains why your family isn't very popular with the locals," Alastor mused aloud, somewhat humorously, giving a passive shrug of his shoulders. "Many wolves in Ardent don't respond well to those kinds of values. But they don't understand them. They didn't grow up with them being indoctrinated into their brains from the moment they were born." Alastor's dark eyes stared out at the ocean, but they did not see the inky black sea. In his mind, the fire-marked brute was miles and years away, back in Mirovis, back as a pup learning the harsh lessons of the cruel world he was born into. Maybe Caedes would pick up on Alastor's show of empathy. He understood what it was like to come from a place where blood was the currency of the world and might made right.

But there was still an unanswered question left between them. Caedes had told him about his place in his family, but it had been a clinical response. A cut and dry factual answer. Alastor took a long sip of whiskey, let it burn down his throat, then returned his gaze to hold Caedes' while the fire crackled and burned behind them, casting both brutes' features in exaggerated shadows, the pair looking as if they were cast from the shadows themselves. "And what about you, Caedes? What do you believe?" A pause before Alastor posed another question to the man, this one much more lighthearted, though equally profound. "If you could have anything in the world right now—anything at all—what would you want?" Caedes had already won the heart of his daughter. What would he crave now that he had something so invaluable?

"Alastor Mendacium"

Caedes took a deliberate sip of whiskey, letting Alastor’s words hang in the air. He nodded lazily, acknowledging the humor and truth in the older wolf's observation. His grip on the bottle tightened slightly, muscles rippling beneath his fur as he settled into the moment. “No, we are not popular,” He replied, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The Saxes have always been seen as outsiders, as threats. It is a reputation that is hard to shake when fear and strength are your family’s currency.” He sighed, rolling his eyes upward as he took another drag from his bottle, his shoulders rolling back as if to shrug off the weight of his words. His mind wandered, contemplating the isolation that came with his lineage.

Shifting his position to face the ocean, the rhythmic crashing of the waves served as the backdrop to their conversation. “But popularity has never been our goal. Domination is. Power is. In our world, you do not get far by being liked. You get far by being in control, by being strong enough that no one dares to challenge you.” He paused, the truth of his words sinking in. Like Sephiran, he had been born into this life, raised with these values, as had everyone else around him. It was a cycle of survival and supremacy. Caedes took another slow, deliberate sip of the whiskey, letting the rich burn settle deep within him. The firelight danced across their faces, casting long shadows that highlighted the intensity of their conversation.

Turning back to Alastor, Caedes' expression softened slightly, but his eyes remained intense. “I understand that does not work everywhere. Mariah has shown me a different way, a way where respect and loyalty can be earned without bloodshed. It is... new to me, but it is something I am willing to learn for her.” He sighed again, the thought of adjusting to these new ways weighing heavily on him, yet his determination was clear. So far, it had worked. This very moment was proof of that fact. You think the Caedes from seasons ago would have sat here, getting drunk with an enemy of his kin without a vast change in his perception of the world? Of course it all had to do with Mariah, that haunting woman who plagued his body and mind even now.

“What do I believe?” Caedes echoed, his voice low and contemplative. “I believe in strength, in survival. Those are the tenets I was raised on, the principles that have kept me alive.” His gaze shifted from the fire to the ocean, the rhythmic crashing of the waves a soothing counterpoint to the weight of his words. “But... I also believe in loyalty, in protecting those who matter. Mariah matters. She is different from everything I have known, and that makes her worth fighting for.” Caedes took another drink, letting the whiskey burn its way down, the liquid courage loosening the tight grip he usually kept on his emotions. “I am willing to face whatever challenges come my way to be with her. Even if it means dealing with those who do not, will not, cannot understand where I come from or what I have been through.” His gaze locked onto Alastor’s, his emerald eyes like steel.

Refraining from taking another swig of whiskey, he felt the liquid courage in his system already helping to loosen the tight grip he usually kept on his emotions. “As for what I want…” Caedes let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “I would like a cure for brokenness.” The words seemed to shock him as they left his mouth, his eyes dulling as he gritted his teeth, the vulnerability of his admission hanging heavy in the air. The weight of his past, his upbringing, and the scars they left on his soul became momentarily apparent, a fleeting glimpse of the raw truth beneath his hardened exterior.

"speaking"

Caedes acknowledged that the Saxes and the Syndicate were not popular, nor was it their concern to be liked amongst the masses. Alastor understood where they came from; positions of power were often secured by fear, but were more fragile than those secured through respect. He thought of Mirovis, of the empire he'd been born into, and how its monarchs reigned with fear. He thought of how all those wolves were long dead, and likely all who remembered them were dead or dying now too. Caedes explained his family's beliefs of domination and control, how success was measured by how strong and in control you were. "And how strong does your family's position feel here?" he mused aloud, dark eyes looking to Caedes not out of interrogation, but out of philosophical musing. "You're a clever wolf, Caedes. You see the world as it is and don't let ego cloud your judgment. How strong do you believe the Syndicate will grow with the opposition you face?" It was no secret that unpopularity was the gentle way of phrasing the pack's position. Wolves wanted them dead. They saw their alpha as a menace. How long would it be before some spark set off that powder keg—and more importantly, what side would Caedes be on when the explosion went off?

Alastor was pleased to hear Caedes admit that Mariah had introduced him to a new way of thinking—a less one-sided way of perceiving the world. That certainly did sound like his clever little girl! Cae looked a little overwhelmed at the prospect of having to relearn everything he had ever known in his life, and Alastor could certainly empathize with the sentiment. When asked of his beliefs, the dire brute named strength and survival, but also loyalty and protection. Again he named Mariah as his guiding light into the unknown. Alastor couldn't help but smirk at the historical similarities their relationship was taking to his own with Manea. Alastor slowly sipped his whiskey while he let Caedes talk, enjoying the smooth burn of the strong liquor as it ran down his throat to pool in his belly, a delightful sensation against the chill of the winter night.

"I am willing to face whatever challenges come my way to be with her. even if it means dealing with those who do not, will not, cannot understand where i come from or what i have been through." Alastor turned his gaze to meet Caedes' at the same time the other brute looked over at him, those emerald eyes resolute in their conviction. "Even if that challenge is your own family?" Again, Alastor posed a hypothetical to the dark, marred brute at his side, a curious tilt to his head as he gave Caedes the thought problem. "Our family is far from perfect, Caedes, and we do not pretend to be. We accept others for their flaws, we do not judge within limits, and we have certainly committed our fair share of sins—hell, I've put bodies in the ground just for the thrill of it!" Alastor's grin flashed with a bit of wicked mischief. That had all been when he was much younger, of course. Fatherhood and age had tempered the brute out significantly. "We welcomed you into our home because you make Mariah happy and I truly believe she loves you. Would your family, with your beliefs of power, control, and dominance, do the same for her?"

Alastor shifted his weight on one hip to better face Caedes, his dark eyes still inquisitive, but a bit more concerned now. He was showing the Saxe brute exactly how he was feeling—no mask, no facade, no lies. "I have not met your alpha, but I've heard the stories of him. I'm inclined to believe they're true after hearing your account of the Saxe values. So if Sephiran ordered you to use your access to our family to spy for him, would you do so?" A pause, and then Alastor asked in a rougher, lower voice, "If Sephiran forbade your relationship with Mariah and told you to kill her, would you refuse, even if it meant having to kill your own alpha?" These were all hypotheticals, of course. But Caedes was living a double life currently, two existences that were not compatible. If push came to shove, how would Caedes' cards fall on the table? How much was this wolf willing to risk to be with the woman he loved? Would love conquer all, or was Caedes too deeply indoctrinated in the Saxe ideals?

The answer Alastor received to his final hypothetical took the Mendacium brute way off guard. Caedes would want a cure for brokenness. Alastor's expression softened, the shock on his face revealing some of his own cracks underneath that carefully crafted smile he always wore. For a moment, a glimpse of that broken, hurt wolf that had been stuffed away years ago slipped out. Al's eyes dipped, looking at nothing in particular, then at his bottle of whiskey as he took another long draw from the bottle. He'd need plenty of liquor for what he was about to talk about. "Yeah, me too..." Alastor drew a deep breath that he released in a heavy sigh, staring blankly out at the night ocean as he lost himself in memories he didn't wish to recount. But Caedes had bore some of his soul to him, so he would be raw in return. "I was born in a pack far away from here named Mirovis. Outside the alpha's family, nobody mattered. Your life was given in servitude to the royal family. It was a brutal existence of fighting to survive." Alastor paused long enough to swallow more whiskey, more than halfway through his bottle by now and feeling the effects of the alcohol. "My father believed that might made right. Strength and violence were the only things he recognized. Half of the scars on me are marks of his 'love'." A sigh, and Alastor shook his head slowly. "Sometimes I wish he'd have just killed me instead of leaving me damaged like this... Unstable, always on the verge of violence I don't remember and can't control. He was obsessed with making the perfect killing machine in a wolf. I guess in some ways he succeeded..."

"Alastor Mendacium"

Alastor's philosophical question lingered in the air, prompting Caedes to consider the precarious position of his family's strength. He took a deliberate sip of whiskey, his grip tightening momentarily around the bottle, muscles rippling beneath his fur as he settled into the moment. “The Saxes are strong, but strength alone does not guarantee stability,” Caedes admitted, his voice measured. “Our way of life has kept us alive, but it has also made us enemies. The Syndicate’s opposition is fierce, and I do not underestimate the challenges we face.” He paused, contemplating the implications of Alastor's inquiry. “I see the obstacles clearly,” Caedes continued, his tone contemplative. “I am not so sure my kin do. But we are many, and when one falls, three more rise in their place. It is how, even as volatile and bloodthirsty as we are, we plague the lands we step into.” With that, he took another swig, feeling the whiskey burn its way down.

As Alastor spoke of his own experiences and the similarities to Caedes' relationship with Mariah, Caedes couldn’t help but feel a sense of kinship. The older wolf's empathy and understanding resonated deeply, a moment of connection. When Alastor posed the hypothetical challenge involving his family, Caedes’ expression hardened. The question cut to the core of his loyalty and identity. ’Even if that challenge is your own family? … Would your family, with your beliefs of power, control, and dominance, do the same for her?’ Alastor asked, his gaze unwavering. There it was. The big questions.

Caedes took another slow, deliberate sip of whiskey, the firelight casting flickering shadows on his scarred features. The alcohol loosened his tongue, allowing the words to fall more easily. But his eyes were hard, calculative. Maybe he should slow down… but it felt so good to relax. “Yes, even my own family. I cannot… betray them, but I will not see them harm her.” He answered firmly.

The question hung in the air, and Caedes' mind raced through the implications. He knew the answer in his heart, but articulating it was another matter. “They would not welcome her.” He admitted, his voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and determination. “The Saxes would see her as a weakness, a liability. They would not understand what she means to me.”

Alastor's next questions cut even deeper, probing the very essence of Caedes’ loyalty. ‘If Sephiran ordered you to use your access to our family to spy for him, would you do so? If Sephiran forbade your relationship with Mariah and told you to kill her, would you refuse, even if it meant having to kill your own alpha?’ Caedes’ emerald eyes locked onto Alastor’s, his gaze unwavering. “He believes that spying is the only reason I would have interest in an enemy as he calls you all of Elysium. I did not correct him.” He said, his voice steady but laced with underlying intensity. “And if it came to that, I would choose to protect Mariah. Even if it meant standing against my own blood. Even if I died.” Though his answer was not the same as leaving the Syndicate and joining her here, it was the truth. The admission hung heavily in the air, the weight of his words underscoring the gravity of his commitment.

Listening to Alastor’s story, the weight of the older wolf’s words settled heavily in the cool night air. A brutal existence. Marks of love. Violence. Control. Caedes took a deep breath, the whiskey in his hand providing a momentary comfort. He looked at Alastor, deciding to share a part of his past that few outside his family knew.

“I..” Caedes began, his voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of emotion. “I was born a runt, not good enough for my mother. She sent me to live with my father, a healer. He was not just a healer, though; he was once my mother’s slave. A broken man who saw things that weren’t there, heard voices no one else could hear, always scared. A shell of a man, really. But kind. I suppose that is where he and I differ.” He paused, taking another sip of whiskey, letting the burn fortify him. “I was a few months old when my father suffered a complete mental break. We were out gathering herbs, something we did often. But that day, something snapped. The fear that had always been in his eyes turned to madness.” Caedes’ grip on the bottle tightened, the memories vivid and painful. “He attacked me, took his knife and carved me up over hours.”

He looked out at the ocean, the rhythmic crashing of the waves a counterpoint to the turmoil inside him. “He is still there. Back where all Saxes come from. Confined to a cave and chains. His mind is completely gone. My grandmother asked me to forgive him, saying he was always broken. He deserved to be loved, not blamed.” Caedes’ voice grew quieter, the weight of his words heavy in the cool night air. “These scars made me a replacement in his broken mind. I guess I am an exact physical copy of my grandfather, name and all. It was me that broke him. Maybe he could have run from his madness for years to come, had it not been for me.” He turned back to Alastor, his emerald eyes steady but haunted. Caedes raised the bottle in a silent toast to Alastor, a gesture of shared understanding. “To the scars that shape us,” He said, his voice a low rumble. A laugh echoing out of his chest, devoid of emotion yet somehow bitter. “And to finding a way to live beyond them.”

"speaking"