Artorias tried to remain as stony-faced as he could when Sirius confirmed that Briar would be part of the training program, focusing instead on Venom's son joining them. That would be good; the Ashen children were young, but he was familiar with their parents and respected Venom. He would be interested to see what the youngling could contribute, though he had no qualms about giving far more than he took in this exchange. It was all part of being a mentor, after all. Sirius lamented the fact that the other packs hadn't responded to his program, but Artorias simply rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "Well, if they don't, that will just give us more one-on-one time," he remarked with a smile. He did feel bad that Seer hadn't gotten the attendance he clearly wanted, but so long as Artorias left this feeling like he'd learned some valuable lessons on how to be a leader, then he'd consider it a success.

The two wolves arrived at the barracks just as the downpour began to start. Artorias glanced up at the roof of the barracks while listening to the thundering rain outside. He briefly mulled over Sirius' words. The other packs had been quiet. He hoped that didn't mean anything ill had occurred and that perhaps everyone was simply enjoying a bit of peace. Artorias shrugged off the furs he was carrying to set up his bed for the next season, unfastening his armor and shedding it along with his sword and satchel. "I did indeed mention wine," he replied with a chuckle, opening up the satchel and retrieving three bottles of wine, one after another to present to the Warlord, each one containing a well-aged red. "I haven't tried it yet, but Ulric says it's very good."

"Artorias Carpathius"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
____________________

The Warlord nodded, seeing that the boy was just happy to be here and learn. Sirius had wanted to create something more… perhaps he wished to see the pack and their Allies bustling with activity again. The long winter had set everyone back a step, left them uncertain. Recruitment was down, and he wondered how many rogues or prospects had died in the colder nights.

Sirius examined the gift, touching a paw to each in appreciation. It was thoughtful for the Hallows to send along this gift, for Art to deliver it. He picked one at random, and popped it open with an extended claw. The scent of fermented grapes filled the building. “Your first sip of alcohol. In some cultures, that's considered a step into adulthood.” The Warlord smiled, and offered the boy the first sip.


"Sirius Fatalis"

The moment the cork was removed from the top of the bottle, the room was filled with the bittersweet scent of fermented grapes. Artorias wriggled his nose at the strange scent, wholly unfamiliar with alcohol in any capacity. Sirius offered him the first sip, deigning it a step into adulthood for the young wolf. Artorias smirked and took the bottle graciously, bringing the neck up to his nose for a tentative sniff. The smell of alcohol was strong, but it was offset by the grapes somewhat. His brow furrowed; did adults really like this stuff that much? What did it even do? Well, there was only one way to find out.

Bringing the bottle to his lips, Artorias took his first swig of alcohol. The wine hit his tongue and immediately he flinched at the strong taste, immediately noting the sharpness of the alcohol mixed with a muddled sweetness of fruit. He swallowed and smacked his lips together while he considered the flavor, trying to keep from coughing on the strange drink. While it had been very unexpected, he couldn't say it was wholly unpleasant. Maybe it was more of an acquired taste that he'd get used to over time?

"Y'know, for something made from fruit, it's a lot less sweet than I expected," he remarked, the bittersweet taste lingering on his tongue while he passed the bottle back to the Warlord. Maybe after he'd shared a few more sips with Sirius, the drink would go down smoother. "Thanks, Seer, for letting me do this, I mean." He shot Sirius an appreciative smile, wondering if the Warlord realized just how much it actually meant to him, or how much he looked up to him in a fatherly capacity.

"Artorias Carpathius"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
____________________

Sirius snickered softly at the expected first-reaction. Art did manage to avoid a coughing fit, so he did pretty well there. “You can get different grades of bitterness in a wine.” he remarked, but… at the end of the day, he hadn’t bothered with the stuff enough to tell the boy a great deal of detail.

He took a sip himself, feeling it burn down his throat. When he removed the bottle from his lips, he looked over to Artorias, and saw the sincerity in the others' eyes. The appreciation in his smile. Storms, did the boy really look up to the Warlord?

“You're my godson Art, family.” he said, as though that explained it all. He passed the bottle back to the younger wolf.

"Sirius Fatalis"

Artorias watched while Sirius managed a much smoother draught than he had, proving that alcohol did indeed come easier with experience. He looked at the Warlord, grizzled with wisdom and weathering, wondering if perhaps one day he would be like Sirius. Or would he be more like Resin? Ulric, even? Every alpha was so different, so unique in their own ways and how they led. How was he ever supposed to consider himself an equal to someone such as them? Self doubt was not something Artorias was used to grappling with, but after being named heir to the Hallows and realizing the responsibility on his shoulders, it was impossible not to. That was why his time in the Armada was going to be so important.

The smile on Artorias' face grew a touch when Sirius called him family. He knew there was always the connection between their families, but now as more and more of the wolves he loved and knew seemed to disappear, it felt more and more like the young wolf was trying to hold onto sand. The ones that stayed mattered more to him all the time. It was why he had been so cavalier about coming, despite his mother's reservations. Sirius was his family too. Family looked out for one another.

"And you're my family too, Sirius," he replied while he took the bottle and swallowed a longer swig this time, perhaps in some misguided way to prove he wouldn't be beaten by a liquid. That proved to be a mistake, as this time did start a bit of a coughing fit in the young wolf who had to swallow quickly or risk spitting it back up. "Wait, wait, give me a do-over. I got this." Artorias took another smaller sip once his coughing had settled, feeling the warmth of the wine reach his stomach smoother this time. He gave a triumphant sigh and handed the bottle back, beginning to feel that warmth spread throughout his body. Was that what alcohol was supposed to do? Make you feel warm?

"Artorias Carpathius"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
____________________

Sirius nodded his head, silent, taking it in stride. A part of him was bursting with pride, that this boy was a part of him. He was everything he wanted Azure to be… but that way lay pain. Art distracted him from his thoughts with his coughing fit, and his young pride. The Warlord laughed softly, and gestured with a paw in a manner that said ‘be my guest’

Art was already doing so, taking another more controlled sip. He seemed to be getting the hang of it now. The Warlord took his sip, taking a long draw, and then handing it back to Art. “Have you seen a wolf drunk before?” he wondered. Did Art have any idea what he was getting himself into?


"Sirius Fatalis"

Unbeknownst to the young wolf, the alcohol was already beginning to have an affect on him. That warmth had spread throughout him, making his nerves tingle with a slight haze of unfocus in his mind. It was subtle, not enough for him to notice it right away or that anything had begun to change. He watched while Sirius took a long draw from the bottle, which now had a noticeable amount of liquid gone from it, and almost let his bravado get the better of him as he considered following the Warlord's lead. He didn't go for one long gulp, but instead broke it down into two smaller ones, finding those much more manageable without coughing like he was choking.

Sirius asked him if he'd ever seen a wolf drunk before, and it took his fuzzy mind a few moments to piece together the question and the right response. "Uh... no, no I don't think I have, sir." His words came out a little slower, trying to make his mouth make the right movements without slurring his speech.


"Artorias Carpathius"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
____________________

When Art took the bottle this time, he took two smaller sips, seemingly having found a method that didn’t leave him coughing. At his question, there was some delay. A disconnect in Art’s mind. Sirius was also starting to feel it, he felt… relaxed. In a way that did not come to him easily. He rolled forward, propping himself up on his forpaws as he looked across at the tipsy boy. “You’ve just hit the stage called tipsy, your motor senses will be slowed, and your attention span short. You might become more talkative, but going around in circles rather than saying anything.”

Sirius grinned as he took the bottle again, raising it up in the air as though to say ‘cheers’ before taking another sip. “I think I hit the talkative part, son. We should… we should spar, we’ll topple over, and it’ll be hilarious.”


"Sirius Fatalis"

Sirius explained that he had reached a stage called tipsy and began to list off some effects he might be feeling. Artorias could definitely attest to his senses being somewhat dulled, as moving almost began to feel like wading through jelly. Right now, the boy was just trying to focus on not toppling over, since he felt like he was listing forward. "Whoa," he murmured under his breath, giving a little giddy giggle at how silly he felt. "Is this what alcohol's supposed to do? Nobody in my family drinks. My mom never drinks—well, except when she got pregnant with me and my siblings. She told me about that. I think Ulric and Eska drink, but I'm not around them that much." Artorias wasn't even aware he was beginning to fall into the chatty tendencies Seer predicted, the usually reserved boy letting his thoughts out freely now.

Artorias' eyes lit up at the thought of a spar with Sirius right now and laughed as he jumped to his paws, wobbling to and fro at the sudden movement. He righted himself after a moment, grinning widely while he took the bottle for another quick sip. "Ohh, that would be soooooo much fun! I'm not drunk, I can still fight!" The gentle sway of Artorias' body betrayed his confident words though, as the young wolf was clearly on his way past tipsy and headed for drunk.

"Artorias"

The Warlord gave a belly-deep love. The sensation freeing in a strange, joyful way. “I wish I had seen it” he admitted, having not seen Tamsyn drunk. At the suggestion of a spar, Art was more than eager, leaping to his paws in a way that made Sirius dizzy.

The Warlord nudged the alcohol out of the way so they would not trip over it - however, he misjudged his strength and smacked the side of it, toppling it over. “Fuck. Shit.” he swore, grabbing at the neck as they lost some amount of the liquid. He placed it down more carefully this time, exaggerating the movements.

He staggered to his paws, upset at just how many inches he had to climb to get there. It really wasn’t fair that it had to cost him more effort than it did anybody else. “Come at me, boy!” he ordered, pounding a paw to his chest.


"Sirius Fatalis"

Artorias's tri-colored tail wagged excitedly as Sirius rose to his full height to square off with him in the barracks, bright eyes and wide, toothy grin showing his enthusiasm despite his inability to remain standing still. He snickered when Seer knocked over the wine, considering heckling the giant of a wolf for his level of inebriation as well while he watched this massive wolf try to carefully set down the delicate bottle. Once their alcohol was safely set aside and Seer gave him the order to charge, Artorias gave a playful growl and lunged for Sirius.

His first step ended up with him stumbling forward, almost toppling facedown into the ground, but he managed to recover enough to throw himself at the Warlord. In his mind, Artorias was trying to convince his body to obey his well trained and choreographed steps and stances, but in reality, the boy ended up basically running straight into the Warlord like a rugby player, throwing his weight into him with only a fraction of his usual stability and grace. Artorias gave slurred, wobbly growls and reached up with his paws to try and grapple Sirius around his neck, not really going into this with any real strategy other than thinking he could somehow grab and pin a wolf with several inches and dozens of pounds on him when his own legs felt more like jelly.

"Artorias"

At his invitation, Artorias charged. It was definitely, absolutely, a noble heroic charge. Filled with vigor and certainty, or perhaps just a whole lot of confidence and not much else. He smacked into the Warlord hard enough for the taller wolf to almost lose his breath. He realised then that there was also the danger of him losing his drink. He managed to hold it in as he grabbed for Art much the way the other was grabbing for him.

Sirius had one big glowing tactic in his mind. He was big, he was heavy. He knew this for a fact, because he was certainly feeling it. So, what he tried to do was grab Art and drop like a stone, bringing the other wolf with him.

"Sirius Fatalis"

Running into Sirius had felt like running into a brick wall. The dire wolf barely moved, giving only a breathy grunt upon impact, but not much else. It was discouraging, but Artorias did not give up. He clawed at the Warlord's thick fur, claws failing to find purchase anywhere on his body—or maybe they did and he just couldn't keep his muscles holding on, he really couldn't tell. What he could tell, however, was when the world suddenly started shifting and his sloshed equilibrium told him gravity was betraying him. Artorias' alcohol-addled brain only began to comprehend that Seer had grabbed him and was toppling forward with him when it was far too late to do anything about it.

Artorias gave a cry of surprise that was swiftly smothered when he suddenly found himself pinned between a dire wolf and the ground. He tired to squirm, to kick and flail free, but Sirius had a size and weight advantage on him and he was using it to its fullest against him. "Noooo! Get offa meeee!" Artorias tried to squirm even more amidst a fit of laughter, but by now his vision had started to swirl and he was feeling more than a little dizzy, so struggling at his full capacity was a pipe dream at best. "No surrendeeeeer!"

"Artorias"

His desire to topple the blue wolf worked, and the two of them went crashing to the ground. His vision felt like it flipped at the sudden change of height and he blinked, swallowing again the feeling that he needed to barf.

Art wiggled beneath him, laughing and trying to tell him to get off. “Mmmm. comfy bedding” The Warlord said, his voice a slurred laugh. As he pushed himself even flatter across the other boy. Holding him down with his weight and gravity more than anything else. His overly thick coat adding to his weight.

The boy promised not to surrender and Sirius responded to that by grabbing him in a bear hug, his paws reaching either side of Art as he squeezed him into a hug. “t’is is mine” he slurred, pressing his head into Arts back.


"Sirius Fatalis"

No matter how much he struggled, all of his efforts were in vain under the strength and weight of a deadweight dire wolf. Sirius slurred out a comment about him being a comfy bed, and Artorias redoubled his efforts to make himself as uncomfortable as possible with more thrashing and squirming. It was a futile attempt, but Art's drunk mind still held the belief that he could come out on top, even when his flailing turned into something more akin to tapping his paws against whatever he could reach. The bear hug the Warlord wrapped him up in made Artorias give a soft "oof" as the air was squeezed from him, momentarily, then a sudden sharp laugh as giant paws found ticklish spots along his sides. Seer mumbled about Art being his and the young wolf gave one last attempt at freedom, using all the strength his drunk brain could pull from gelatinous muscles before collapsing into a heap beneath the Warlord with a heavy exhale. "Mmmmrph, 'kay, okay, 'myours, you win," he finally conceded between slurred, broken words, but the smile on his face showed nothing but joy and delight.

"Artorias"

Finding ticklish spots only incited the Warlord further, until he was digging his toes into every soft part of his side and stomach that he could find. It wasn’t long before Artorias realised he could not win. He gave one big mighty push that very nearly threw the Warlord off. In his drunken state it was more luck than anything else that kept his gravity over Art as the other boy gave up, and Seer fell down upon him again.

“Mine.” He agreed, one word sentences came easily, and that one the easiest of all. He tapped Art on the nose, and then rolled off with a groan. Leaning his side against that of the younger wolf. “This is good. Nice.” He said with a yawn.

"Sirius Fatalis"

Revealing a weakness had only given Seer more to exploit, and the next thing Art knew, he was a flailing and laughing mess as Sirius hunted and manipulated every little spot he could find. The boy's legs kicked and flailed as best they could from his pinned position, but he was ultimately a trapped victim, left nearly pleading for mercy between the fits of laughter and near tears in his eyes. He gave a heavy sigh of relief once the onslaught of tickles ended, feeling the boop to the end of his nose as the Warlord's gruff voice repeated his claim over him. A single word that the brute favored above all others. It also felt like the greatest show of love and compassion Artorias could think of coming from Sirius.

Artorias was still tittering with little residual giggles as he came back down from the high of their "fight". Pushing his side back into Seer's, he took a few heavy breaths to steady his panting, reaching over to nuzzle against the larger wolf's shoulder. "Mmmmmm this is good. Thanks for this, Dad. This is the best." A content look came over the young wolf's face as he relaxed next to the Warlord he had just called his father. He had never said his thoughts out loud until now, and maybe it was thanks to the liquid courage he had in him right now. He hadn't grown up with a father and would probably never know who his real dad was. Resin had acted as a father figure when she was alive, but Sirius had always been the male role model he'd had in his life. It had always been him, and it was partly why he loved and respected the Fatalis patriarch so much. A part of him had always wanted to be like Sirius.

"Artorias"

He could still feel the nuzzle of the other wolf, even if his body didn’t want to obey every command, and felt sloshed and slow. He jolted with surprise at Art’s next words. One, in particular, that stuck him like a skewer through the heart. Dad. Art was… in so many ways, a son to him. Godson. Boyfriend of his daughter. He felt his eyes begin to mist as he realised Art felt the same about him. He sniffed softly, overcome.

He leaned back against Art until his head lightly knocked against the other boys, looking up at the barracks ceiling. “Tamsyn and Resin were both high ranking in the Armada just before they left to make the Hallows, just before you were born. A slight twist of fate, and you were almost an Armada Knight.” He said softly. He wouldn’t have protested at keeping the boy around. He already knew it was going to be difficult to let him go when the time came. “My son, an Armada Knight.”

"Sirius Fatalis"

Although Artorias was hovering on the edge of sleepy drunk and cuddly drunk now, he was still very aware of every shift or movement of Sirius' body given how close they were lying together. His eyes were closed to block out his spinning vision, but he still took in every sound and touch, hearing the sniffle of the larger man and feeling his head tap against his. Sirius' words brought amber eyes to open once more, gazing into the sea of dark fur that obscured his vision, shifting his head just enough to peer up at Seer's face. It took a moment for his brain to wrap around the words, but each one warmed his heart more than any liquor ever could. Hearing the Warlord call him his son, an Armada Knight, it brought liquid crystals to his eyes as well, a pride for a life that might have been that he'd never know.

His mind began to wander, wondering what a world where he had been Sirius' son would look like. This sort of fatherly bonding and approval was what he had been deprived of. He hoped he'd be a good knight in his father's eyes. "I hope I'd make you proud of me. I dunno if I'll ever be as good as they were, or as good as you are," he mumbled under his breath, only just audible above the sound of the rain outside. Artorias put a lot of pressure on himself to succeed and be worthy of the reputations of his parents, and the pack they came from.

"Artorias"

He felt the warmth of Art behind him. The soft vibrance of youth, and the slurred, soft words of the tipsy boy. He looked up at the barracks ceiling, and a small smile flitted across his lips. For a boy with such promise, he could be a knucklehead sometimes. “You’ve already made me proud, Art. You're the best of us.” he said, knowing it to be true.

He couldn't even say it was because he was raised without all the horrors and hardships that had faced the adults in his life. He had seen the horror of his mothers failing mind, had seen her die in battle. He had let bloodlust lead him to almost kill the Warlord. So it was not instead of, it was despite it. Despite it, Art was the best of them.


"Sirius Fatalis"