Hate Me

The growl did not faze him. He stood his ground, eyes flashing defiantly even in the face of her unrighteous (to him, anyway) anger. He did not regret his words; he wanted no part in something such as this if at the first word, he was suddenly telling lies. If at the first word, he was suddenly a traitor. It’d be one thing if he had, in the past, had been a traitor… in which case, he’d not have expected any sort of trust or faith; after all, why trust a wolf that had betrayed one pack before? That was his logic with Vereux, and it still stood with himself.

And yet, here she was, still trying to call him out, trying to tell him that he was hypocritical. If any were hypocritical it would be her, immediately jumping to assumptions and anger, when she continued to defend Vereux even when there was evidence of him actually being a traitor and actively hiding information from Avalon. “I do believe that it is your assumption that I was telling lies. Unless, of course, you were told specifically that I told lies. I do not believe that the wolf with whom you spoke with called me a traitor - that is your assumption. So no, it is not wrong for you to take the word of an outsider. It is wrong to take the word of an outsider and make your own assumptions and present that as what the outsider said. That is not what the outsider said, that is what you think. There is a distinct difference.” He wasn’t expecting the anger in his voice, and he also wasn’t expecting the amount of words that he spoke.

Thankfully, his words before finally sunk in, and she finally decided to cut the damned guessing game she tried to impose on him. She told him information he already knew, and then dropped the ball: Mercy revealed he had spoken with her. He supposed he ought to be angry by that, but he was not; after all, he had extracted no promise from Mercy. He had not expected her to say anything, but at the same time he could care less that she did. The rule which prohibited from sharing his thoughts and problems with someone outside the pack was what drove him to do so regardless; the sheer stupidity of that rule was what had infuriated him. He believed that he was not in the wrong, and that he was justified in his actions, and would stand by them. “You lost.” It was not a question, but a statement, and he stared at his mother with a cool look that was utterly devoid of any emotion. No, he’d not react. He’d maintain control over this steel that he managed to reinstate; he would not lose it again. That was a weakness, and it was not acceptable.

What he was surprised about was Mercy insulting Ivalice, and that bothered him. Why would she do such a thing? For that matter, why would she trespass? Even he, by technicality, would not be able to allow such a thing, and he likely wouldn’t, though he’d have hated confronting her himself. “I do not believe a single wolf is the whole world. If it is, then we might be in dire straits.” If she were to use such an exaggeration, then she was asking for a response such as that. “In addition to that, I also spoke to Mercy well before I uncovered any information regarding Vereux from Katja Finnvi. Besides, who else was I to speak to at that point? You?” He scoffed at the idea. “You would simply have become angry, claiming we - your children - had no reason to dislike him. You would have called me unreasonable. No, I could not talk to you.” He had simply think back to the meeting in which they first visibly showed their dislike of Vereux, and how they were all called out - even him and Gryphon, who presented things reasonably and calmly. No, Avalon had been angry, and had admonished them publicly and obviously - something that made his blood boil even now with anger. “Dragon or Kharnage? Ha! Both of them have done nothing but be bitter and hateful since I was given this position of heir. Their jealousy and idiocy knows no bounds; they would delight to see me fail, that I have no doubt about. Utterly ridiculous, because being heir means professionalism. Being heir means responsibility. Neither of which either of them would be in the least capable of doing.” Which was a severe understatement. The immaturity of his two brothers irritated him beyond belief; he thought Kharnage at least would be a bit more intelligent and more in control of himself. He knew Dragon had no hope; he knew ever since the idiot ran beyond Imperium all the way across a damned continent. “Gryphon? He would be the only option, and we did discuss it, briefly. But he is sick too often. That left me with only one other option; the wolf who I know I can trust, and the one that would let me vent without being called ridiculous or getting angry. Even if she disagreed, then she still would have let me finish, and likely have responded intelligently and without this anger that others would exhibit.” Or so he believed. Always, even when he was a pup, Mercy was patient and worked with him; even then she engaged him in conversation and let him rant about his brothers - and whatever stupid thing they were doing now - and would do so quietly. She understood, or at least, put on the front that she did.

He said nothing about the disrespect his mother said Mercy did. If she did, then Lykos would not make an excuse for her. He didn’t doubt that she did be rude; Avalon wouldn’t have been so angry otherwise. Which begs the question… why? Why was she rude? He couldn’t begin to understand that. He didn’t need to linger on it any more, because Avalon posed a question that instead made him ponder that. Did he regret coming to Ivalice? That… that was a trick question. He did and didn’t. Not Ivalice, but… “No… but I do wish Imperium never fell.” He knew that she knew that if Imperium had never fallen, he would never have come to Ivalice. He was not regretful of coming to Ivalice after Imperium fell, but he was regretful that Imperium fell at all. Given the choice, he’d rather have been in Imperium.

There, that ought to satisfy her. She said as a mother she must know, and as a son he would not lie or hide the truth. It seemed she did not hide the truth either, for she claimed he had broken her trust. His jaw tightened. How did he betray her damned trust? Talked to a wolf besides her? Trusted someone other than family who did not have a history of being a traitor to a pack? If she wanted to be offended over him trusting Mercy, then she has no right to be angry that he did not trust Vereux, even from the start before he knew about what the despicable wolf did. “And how, precisely, did I break your trust?” A growl tinted his words as he forced them out. “Because I talked to a wolf outside the pack? Because I dared to confide in a wolf who I have trusted since I was a pup? What would you have me do? Erase all my contacts from Imperium? Lock myself in Ivalice and never associate or trust or confide in a wolf not within the pack?” he demanded, fur bristling along his hackles. The idea of that was utterly ridiculous. He couldn't even fathom the logic; he just couldn’t.
Taking a deep breathe, he tried to soothe his tumultuous emotions, forcing his hackles down. It was difficult, so difficult to do. “‘Follow someone like her?’ You mean, follow someone who I can trust? Who has never let me down? Who has been there for me, taught me to fight, and has listened to me without any judgement? A wolf who uses her brain, and does not choose the first male that just so happens to wander by, not just once, but twice? A wolf who is naturally wary, and who doesn’t just believe whatever she’s told? Who doesn’t ignore signs of suspicion? Yes, yes I would. I would do more than just follow; I would run alongside a wolf like this, despite what faults they may have. I’d be there for the wolf to help her in need, I’d be there when that wolf was upset and unhappy. I’d walk with this wolf day and night, because I know, whatever shortcomings, that this wolf cares and it is someone who I can trust. It is a wolf whom my strengths may counter her weaknesses, and vice versa. Yes, I would accompany ‘someone like her’ with little hesitation.”

Maybe that would open his mother’s eyes. To see what she was doing. All the frustration, all the anger that he ever felt at Avalon just poured out of him, until he felt utterly exhausted. Her question still remained unanswered - was she fit to lead Ivalice? He believed he did have that answer, even if it seemed contradictory to what he had said so far. “No. In that, Mercy was wrong. You are fit to lead Ivalice. You can lead it, and competently. But you are not the sort of leader I desire, that I can follow.” There. It was said. The thought that had been teasing at the back of his mind for two seasons now. The thought he first confessed to Mercy, back in mid-winter. The thought that had not left his mind since, and had lurked at the edge even more so after he talked to Katja. There it was, the truth in full color, fully admitted.

Unfortunately for him, that was not the end. He was confronted with another question, and he hated it with a passion. It made him hesitate - he didn’t know the answer to that question. Did he? Or did he not? He wasn’t certain. On one hand, there was a certain amount of respect automatically accorded to Avalon. There were some things he didn’t respect about her at all, though, but the same was true with Mercy, who gained his respect from the bottom up. However, if what Avalon said was true about the insults, and he knew with the trespassing… then he could not possibly respect Mercy for that. Which left… a complete stalemate. “No,” he answered finally, his tone firm and decisive. It wasn't until he spoke that he actually knew the answer. “I do not. I respect both of you equally.” Just for different things. And for different things he did not respect them, too. It was just how it was. Their strengths… and their weaknesses determined that.


"Speech" | Think