”Hey.” Rhyme’s voice was soft as an icy white paw was laid gently on the stone that marked the place Shaye was laid to rest. He suppressed his awful memories of the days leading up to the moment she was placed here. Having to dig her broken body along with Ody from the rock slide had broken something within that that had yet to be fully repaired. He felt as if his soul had been torn into pieces that would never be brought back together. ”Hey..” He swallowed back his tears as his massive frame was lowered to the ground beside her. He rested his head on the stone and felt the tears begin to flow freely from his blue and lavender gaze.

”I miss you. It’s hard to keep going without you beside me.” He had to pause as his voice broke and his eyelids pressed against each other as the wave of pain rocked his body. ”I’ve got a lot of support though. Your girls are back home… But it wasn’t fair of you to leave Theory like this. She’s been forced to be so strong. When we needed you the most…” Anger. He felt anger towards the woman he loved for leaving them, for giving up so easily. Like he had. He wasn’t angry at Shaye, he was angry at himself. For letting her fall into her depression and allowing her life to be stolen.

Rhyme was quiet for a long few moments as his tears wetted the gravestone.

”Rhythm’s here. I’m sorry she didn’t come back until after you were gone.” He said bitterly, wondering if he could have convinced the woman who birthed him to return sooner if Shaye would have taken a different path and would have still been here where she belonged. ”I know you’d want me to forgive her. Maybe I should. For you.” Rhyme mused to himself as he continued his private thoughts. ”I could always come to you about my problems. Not having your insight…” He sighed heavily as he settled himself there, he felt closer to Shaye here at her grave than even the moment his mind conjured her image. Rhyme hurt, and he wasn’t ready to accept his mother back just yet. ”What do I do?”

He knew she wouldn’t answer back, not anymore. Theory and Samara worked too hard to bring him back.

Valentine was wandering the packlands. He hadn't been given explicit permission to do so  he'd been more or less invited in so of course he was going to take advantage. It was interesting how fire shaped things. He didn't recognize Abaven in any of the fire scorched features.  It reminded him of his conversation with Theory. He wondered if she was still mulling over what to do or if she'd decided to stay. Normally he wouldn't have given a fuck but this whole journey had left him in a wistful, melancholy state. This was one of the hardest thing he'd ever done and after the bitterness had exhausted him he'd been left in low spirits.

Rhyme's voice, almost a stranger's since he'd heard so little of it, stopped Valentine in his tracks. It sounded like he was close; like the outcropping Valentine stood beside was all that separated them. He listened as Rhyme poured out his heart to a dead woman, and hung his head, not in regret for what he'd done but in quiet sorrow for the inability to breach the barrier that now kept him from comforting his son. Rhyme was a fool, quite possibly the biggest fool to ever bear the Imperialis name, but he was Valentine's foolish son and that would never change no matter how much he hated his father.

He stood there, indecisive and aggravated, for quite some time. Did he open himself up for the possibility of rejection or did he turn back and leave Rhyme to his grief?

Fuck it, he was going in.

Valentine walked to the end of the outcropping. He'd been right; Rhyme was just on the other side. The old king stopped once he was in view and chose not to move towards his son. If rejected he could easily just step back out of view and be on his way; no harm no foul. He decided to let Rhyme speak first. His boy would be dictating the flow - or lack thereof - of conversation anyway. May as well let him have the opener.

A long time passed since Rhyme could be considered a boy, maybe his growth had been stunted when he was taken by the slaver band. He always took responsibility for his actions, even after everything he’d come to realize he just wanted to be a good father, to be there for his children. Maybe that was why he felt so guilty now, he’d forced them to shoulder his pain along with their grief. Shaye couldn’t help him now, he had to find his own feet. On his own or… With the help so freely given from those he loved. Rhyme knew now how deeply Samara was integrated into that group.

One he hadn’t considered there in a long time was Valentine. He didn’t hate his father, he certainly didn’t wish he was dead, but after what he’d done… Rhyme couldn’t allow him in his life anymore. His trust had been broken and he felt completely cast out. It was also surprising to see him here now. They had been invited to stay, to say goodbye to his mother and rest before returning. Seeing Valentine here, at Shaye’s grave, made the once alpha freeze.

How much had he heard? Was he going to reveal Rhyme’s deepest thoughts like he’d so easily spoke of Rhyme’s shortcomings when he’d sought his father out for advice? The self named man was too tired to feel anger, he was drained emotionally and fighting the old man wouldn’t be worth his effort. ”I don’t know what you heard,” He started, how drained Rhyme was now became obvious in his voice. ”But you should forget all of it.” His bitterness towards his father snuck in. None of those words were meant to be heard, but especially by Valentine.

Valentine studied Rhyme for several seconds after his son had spoken. Before rounding the corner he'd decided to let Rhyme set the pace of the conversation - or lack thereof - and he had every intention of sticking with that resolution. It was for that reason when Rhyme spoke briskly to him and hinted at just how unwelcome his feelings were towards Valentine, the old King offered no resistance. He nodded in understanding, his expression veiled but far from anything that might be considered unkind, and took a step back as though preparing to turn and walk back the way he'd come.

He hesitated for a split second longer and then said, "Alright." And that was it from him. He'd stumbled upon a sensitive moment and he had no business being there so it wasn't like he could rightly argue his position to stay. Valentine would go and that was okay. He fully turned back the way he'd come and then began to walk away.

-exit?-

Valentine went silent, he didn’t offer any narrating comments orwords harsh or otherwise to Rhyme. With a nod and a promise to do as he asked Valen turned to leave. A part of him wanted him to go, and make it so he never had to look at him again, but another part of him couldn’t help it. After everything that happened and how tired Rhyme was, he didn’t hold back.

“I always wanted to make you proud. I wanted to be you. You were my Idol. A King, a father, you always had a beautiful woman at your side. You’d say, ‘Rhyme you’re an Imperialis and we take what we want.” He felt raw emotions fill him and he tried to suppress all of it. If he never spoke to Valentine again he needed him to hear these words. “I took what I wanted and all I got was shit on for it. I led a pack, but it was the wrong pack. I became a father, but my children and their mothers were shameful. I was loyal to my family but it was the wrong side.” His heart ached as he spoke, remembering all too clearly his younger days and then the many years of servitude before finally finding freedom. Of his father stripping him of the name he’d been born with.

Rhyme didn’t know what point he was trying to make to the old King, but even after all this time he still felt slighted, bitter, and betrayed. Even if he tried to tell Theory otherwise. He shook his head, disappointed in himself for holding onto that dream for so long. ”Nothing I’ve done is good enough for you, I finally accepted I never needed your approval.” Rhyme wasn’t trying anymore, Valentine Imperialis was an old man doomed to fade from existence. Rhyme had to look to the future, he was stuck in the past for far too long. He had to find his strength and his resolve, because his children needed him to be the figure that Valen had once been for him.

Valentine slowed to a halt as Rhyme began to speak. He gave no sign that he heard what his son was saying but of course he was listening. He could see where his son was coming from as he justified all the actions that had led to Valentine's decision, but just because he thought he understood where Rhyme was coming from didn't mean he agreed with him. Yes his son had made his choices and taken things as was his right, but he had always chosen poorly. They were supposed to be strong, to strive to be better and to make the family better. Rhyme had chosen the Destructions, who were - and would always be - an emotional and weak family over the strong and capable Imperialis. He had chosen a slovenly weak women to squirt bastards into. He had been so foully, stupidly in love with the drink that he had struck up an incestuous relationship with his cousin - and gotten inbred children as a result. Choice after choice had demonstrated that Rhyme wasn't a capable decision-maker. To protect the family Valentine had thought it best to separate him from the Imperialis name. He stood by that decision.

He turned around to look at Rhyme. There was no malice in his gaze as he quietly studied him. "Good." What was Rhyme expecting, that he would be hurt by his revelation? Because the opposite was true. Valentine wanted Rhyme to get past it. To be a man for once. And...if he could admit it, he wanted both of them to get past it. Valentine had never intended to cut Rhyme out of his life entirely. Perhaps he had been naive to not consider how big the fallout would be, but he hadn't thought Rhyme would go so far as to reject his mother.

He didn’t know what he wanted. There was no solution here that would bring satisfaction. Rhyme would never be able to trust his father again, any respect that had been there had long fled. On both sides he was sure. Unexpectedly Valentine turned around, mostly silence but oddly neutral as he uttered one word. Rhyme sighed heavily, allowing the tension that had built up dissipate with his words as he gained his father’s attention once more. He didn’t want a relationship with the old man anymore, Rhyme wouldn’t have been upset if he never saw him again. His opinion was not the important one though.

Valentine had taken care of his mother, Rhyme had little desire to let her back in but it was harder when she was in Abaven again. He knew that Shaye would have wanted him to forgive her, and that was the driving force now. Rhyme’s decisions needed to be his own, not his childrens. He wasn’t being fair to them, he’d seen them with their grandmother and how much they benefited from her presence and deep down he knew they would take the same from their grandfather.

”I don’t want to see your ugly mug,” Rhyme started, his voice was quiet and didn’t echo the amusement his words portrayed. After this he didn’t have to say another word to Valentine ever again. He could wash his paws of him and let his kids make their own judgment of him. ”But they need you as much as they need Rhythm.” Rhyme gestured vaguely towards Abaven in reference to the grandchildren within before lowering his gaze to the grave below him. Fitting that he was able to move forward in Shaye’s presence.

Valentine frowned thoughtfully in response to his son's words. He couldn't decide if Rhyme was attempting to engage him in the gruff style of the Imperialis or if he was trying to be rude, but he was going to choose to believe it was the former. For that reason he shot back wryly, "You didn't really think you could be rid of me, did you?" It was funny how they lived in two completely different worlds and yet Valentine had met how many of Rhyme's children now? And that, it seemed, was in spite of their father's efforts to keep them away.

He sighed deeply to signal his willingness to move on, then said, "But that is neither here nor there. I interrupted you and for that I'm sorry. I know what it's like to lose someone who is such a perfect fit they may as well be a part of you." Valentine took a step back as though preparing to leave again. Unless Rhyme wished to engage him further - and none of that pot stirring, finger pointing bullshit either, really engage him in something - Valentine was going to bow out and let him have his space.