Chess, Not Checkers

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"