Artorias was waiting outside on the castle walls for their esteemed guest to get out of bed and join him for their first lesson together. Okay, maaaaaybe the esteemed guest had an excuse in that he'd been stabbed over a dozen times, and maybe—just maybe—Art had been the one to do the stabbing, so he could be patient. Last he had seen, Sirius was able to get out of bed on his own and was standing and walking, albeit slowly for the time. It was a massive relief to know he hadn't permanently crippled the Warlord during his berserk attack; that guilt would have eaten him alive more than if he'd just killed him! Art couldn't imagine a worse fate.

During their little talks, Artorias had been tasked with finding a spot for the two of them to meditate. It had taken some thought, but he had ultimately decided on the western walls of the castle that faced out over the ocean. Something about the natural elements had always called to him, drawn him to them. Water, earth, fire... There was harmony and balance in nature, a harmony and balance he was seeking. It seemed fitting now to be sitting, watching the waves on the ocean, feeling the cool breeze tousling his thick fur. Maybe it was just him making things up, but the breeze almost felt warmer, like it might be heralding sunnier days on the horizon. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part...


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"

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.
____________________

It was slow going, getting out of bed and through the castle walls. At least his guide was well familiar with the territory, and let him without needing to look twice. He tried not to lean on her too heavily. She was banged up pretty good too, even if her paw pads weren’t as worn as his. Eventually, they made it out of the castle, and towards the Western walls of the keep. Climbing up to where Art had chosen to wait for him. Tamsyn left him at that point, and he hobbled along on his own to the boy. With a sigh, he sank to the floor opposite Art. The Warlords back to the ocean. “Alright, Art. For today, sit however you find most comfortable. He waited a moment for the boy to comply. “Now, close your eyes. Concentrate on my voice” he said, letting his deep rumble soften out. Letting it harmonise with the sounds of the waves crashing in the distance behind them. The whoosh of the wind through the keep. “Breath slowly in. As you hold it, think about how your body moves with inhalation. Think of the way your diaphragm rises with the breath. Of how it fills your lungs. Hold it.” “Exhale, nice and slow. Feel the release of that breath, as the waves crash behind me.” "Speech"

It wasn't long before the sounds of paws crunching through thin snow alerted him to the presence of others, and upon spotting Sirius being escorted by his mother towards him, Artorias instinctively rose to his paws in respect for both adults in his life. He tipped his head in a greeting to the Warlord, then returned to his seated posture when Seer did the same. This was an exciting moment for the young Carpathius lad; his first actual lesson from the infamous Sirius Fatalis. And while many would think the Warlord would be used for his combat prowess, today Art would be learning something much more valuable. He would be learning control, balance, zen.

The first instruction was easy to obey. The boy relaxed back onto his haunches, finding it easy to settle into his sitting position. The second instruction was equally simple. Amber eyes disappeared behind black eyelids, and darkness obscured Artorias' vision. With his eyesight gone, it was as if he could hear everything that much more clearly. The waves in the distance, the gentle whisper of the breeze like the breath of the earth itself, the deep rumble of Sirius' bass heavy voice guiding him through the dark. Art followed the directions Seer gave to him, drawing in a long, slow breath until his lungs had filled to capacity with the cold air. He felt the way his muscles moved, how his body responded to an act as simple as breathing. He held his breath, chest puffed out slightly, eyes closed, a neutral, almost serene expression on his face. The waves continued to fill his ears with their rhythmic lullabies. The breeze continued its gentle embrace of his body.

Sirius spoke, and again Artorias followed the directions. His lips parted only a fraction of an inch while he slowly, slowly released the breath trapped in his lungs. His body relaxed as his chest deflated, warm breath turning to a faint cloud of translucent fog in front of his muzzle. He was just as focused on the way his muscles released and relaxed on the exhale as he had been on the inhale. It was an interesting sensation, and not one the boy had ever thought to pause and take notice of before now. So far, he was intrigued. He was eager to see what path Seer would direct him down next.


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"

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.
____________________

As Sirius spoke, he thought of Zee. it was a familiar ache in his chest as he scrambled through his thoughts to find the parts he needed. The parts where she calmed him, became his compass, and taught him what was right. It could be said that most of those lessons didn’t stick, but they were still a part of him. He held onto them, to pass them on to the boy. “Another, slow, deep breath. Feel the muscles, the movement.” His voice was barely above a whisper. The ocean waves seemed louder than his voice. “Hold the breath. Remember your anger, the drive behind it. Remember the feelings that had rushed into you, like the waves of the ocean behind us. Feel that anger. Exhale, long, and slow. Breath the anger out with it, let go of the sensation. Think of the things you love, to guide you. Remember the smile of someone you want to see smile. Hear a laugh.” The Warlord murmured gently. His own thoughts trailing through similar roots as he guided the boy. He thought of the times people had hurt those he loved. He thought of Zee’s smile, though it was a bittersweet memory. Painful. He thought of Tamsyn’s instead. Of her laughter. So rare these last few days. "Speech"

Again, Artorias repeated the motions and instructed. Again, he noted the ways his body moved, acted, reacted. Despite the ambient noise, Art had been zeroed in on Sirius, and even when the man's voice began to dip in decibels, he heard his guidance clear as a bell. He held his breath. The anger. It was still there, just barely simmering embers that never seemed to go out. Remember the anger. I tore the skin from Tamsyn's shoulder. I almost killed Briar. The ghosts of Sirius' words haunted his brain, acting like a bellows on those smoking coals. The anger flickered to life. He could remember the rush of heat, of rage, of hatred. He had wanted nothing more in that moment to hurt Sirius—to kill Sirius. That was what he had to learn to control.

Artorias let out another slow exhale, trying to bring the anger along with it. It wasn't an easygoing task, and on his first attempt, it did little to untwist his heart in his chest. The next time he tried it, Sirius told him to think of the things he loved. A smile you want to see. A laugh you want to hear. Briar. There was her face, smiling at him while they sat in the castle tower. Her laughter when they poked fun at one another. The way she had looked at him when he stood up to Sirius after she'd been caught sneaking out. Briar. His friend, his confidant, his support through the storms that had battered and damaged his family... The more he thought, the more the anger began to fizzle out, leaving his body in his gradual exhale until it started to feel lighter. Sirius hadn't given him any specifics of things he loved—it could have been any of his family, or something that brought him joy—but the first thing in his mind had been her. He didn't know why, but it had worked.

His breathing became a delicate game of equilibrium between his anger and his peace, the fire seeming to want to burn out of control and consume him entirely while the calm washed over him like cool water, extinguishing the volatility within him. It was a balance he was attempting to achieve in this dance with himself.


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"

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 was not an authority on the subject of calm and meditation. It was something he had been taught in passing, and he had learned to make of it what he could. Calm for the Warlord could be hard to find, but peaceful moments like this. A voice of a mentor, the lull of breaking waves, and the wind across the rooftop of his home. Moments like these might help Art to find his center in times that mattered. He watched Art as he continued the breathing exercise. He was determined, rose to the challenge, and did not back down easily. He would be a force to be reckoned with one of these days. A good wolf, someone that others could follow. He could be a great ally, or a favoured enemy of the Armada pack and it’s Warlord. Who knew where life would take them? Who knew who Sirius would be, once the chips were fallen, and he came through his time of reflection and loss. For now, for now Sirius would train and teach and do his part to mold Art. knowing he would never have any regrets in who this blue-knight would become. He got achingly to his paws, stretching out his limbs. As he walked forward, he smoothed out his gait, hiding the pain of his wounds. The impaled paw was the hardest to hide, but the Warlord took stubbornness to a whole new level. He grabbed a stray stick and walked another loop about Art. Testing his patience, his insurance, his curiosity. Despite himself, he was amused, when Art refrained from peeking. Poor boy. Holding the stick in his maw, he whacked Art across an exposed paw pad. “Breath in, nice and slow.” He rumbled. Waiting with posed patience to see if Art would breath, or attack. "Speech"

It was quiet on top of the castle walls between the two wolves, with only the gentle wind and rolling waves in the distance creating a calming white noise to keep absolute silence at bay. Sirius' instructions had stopped coming for now, so even the words from his mentor had fallen away to allow Artorias to focus everything on his inner thoughts. His emotions were like the sea, shifting and churning constantly, but the more he focused on breathing and on his pleasant thoughts, the calmer those waves became. No longer was he a ship adrift in a hurricane; he was floating lazily in the gentle sway of an ocean current. Breathe in. Artorias' chest expanded, his lungs flooding with cold air that stung in a good way. Breathe out. Tension and heat left him along with his breath, disappearing into the ether in a thin cloud.

Again, and again, and again he repeated those steps, his body relaxing and his mind going blank, save for the images of Briar playing behind his eyelids. He heard the crunch of snow, his ear flicking to catch the sound. Sirius was moving, but he hadn't been given any other instructions yet. Was this part of the meditation? Was Sirius just relocating himself? Either way, Art hadn't been told to stop his measured breathing or to open his eyes, so the boy sat where he was, eyes closed, breathing. Just existing. Breathe in, breathe out. The paws in the snow moved around him in a loop. Sirius was circling him. Artorias could see the scenario playing out in his mind vividly, yet still he stayed where he was. Breathe in, breathe out.

A sudden stinging pain flashed across his paw pad as something hard whacked his foot, making the boy yelp in surprise as amber eyes flew open wide. Light flooded his vision and the world came back to him all at once. He turned to look at his paw, then up to Seer, noting the stick in the Warlord's muzzle. Sirius had hit him with the stick? What the hell?! Before Artorias could ask anything, Sirius gave him the directions to keep breathing. He stared at the dire wolf with a mixture of confusion and irritation before realizing what was going on. This was a test.

Despite the instinctive need to turn on the defense and get to a fighting position, Artorias relaxed his tensed muscles and closed his eyes again. Darkness surrounded him as he took another deep breath in, held it for a few seconds, then released it slowly. His nerves remained on high alert though, knowing now that he might get attacked from any side. But he would not break. He would not lose focus now and let their lesson go to waste. Breathe in, breathe out. Stay calm. Don't lose control. Breathe in, breathe out. Was he going to get hit again? Damn, that really stung! Breathe in, breathe out...


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"

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 very bones of the truth were this: If Sirius had been Art, and Art had smacked him, the Warlord would not have stayed on his paws. His anger was like a volcano close to eruption. Near to the surface, and once exposed…. He had great difficulty in reigning it back in again. Arts lose of control was new to him, and he was not letting it define him. His determination showed in the creases around his nose. He was holding himself alert now, waiting for the next blow. “Breath out now, slowly. Feel the loosening of your muscles, feel the way your body decompresses with that exhale.” his lips twitched with a smile, knowing the jumpy boy would struggle with ‘relaxing’ he was putting Art to pressure, and seeing how he molded under it. He walked another circle around Art, feeling the tension and edge the boy held. He abolished the boy for losing the exact rhythm of his breathing. “Count, breath in under the count of four. Hold it for a count of three, and exhale for a count of six” he ordered, giving another thing for the boy to juggle in his inner mind and distract him from Sirius, but to keep his focus on his breathing and his temper. He walked another circle, and then another. He paused, lingered, and then moved on again. Another circle. He loosened the stick in his mount, let it smack through the air near Art without hitting him. Close enough that Artorias would feel its passing. He did not touch the boy, and circled again. He let the stick wizz near him again, and then turned it around in the same motion, and smacked him on the opposite side of his head. "Speech"

Sirius gave him another order, a more rigorous control of his breathing. He would have to focus on the count now as well as staying alert now that he knew the Warlord was going to be an active threat to him. Artorias pursed his lips, brow furrowing in frustration, but he did as he was told. He breathed out. One, two, three, four. He breathed in, swallowing another lungful of air. He held his breath. One, two, three. He exhaled again, counting as the air slowly slipped past his lips. One, two, three, four, five, six. His lungs were empty. His ears twitched to try and follow the sounds of the Warlord moving around him, circling him like a shark in chum-filled waters. Breathe in, count to three, exhale to the count of six.

Sirius stopped. Artorias tensed up, his nerves on high alert, every synapse ready to response to an imminent danger. He had lost count of his breathing. Dammit! He breathed in again, resuming the count from the start. Sirius was moving again, circling slowly... slowly... It was maddening trying to keep track of where Seer was at any given time while also trying to keep the rhythm of his breathing in time with his instructions. A whizz of the stick ripping through the air near him made the boy tense again, but he didn't stop his breathing or counting this time. No contact. He was okay. Keep going.

Again, the stick zipped past his head—only this time, where Art had expected another feint attack, the stick came back and smacked him across the back of his head. Art gave a cry, then a growl as he fixed Sirius with a burning glare, fangs bared and grit through the irritation and rising anger. It was still a far cry from when the Warlord had told him he'd nearly killed Briar, but godsdamn, was he making a nuisance of himself! "Y'know, you're really making it hard to focus, sir," he muttered through clenched teeth, his claws raking against the stone underneath while he tried to regain his composure. Already he was thinking of taking that stick from him and turning the tables. Artorias went back to breathing, though it was noticeably more strained. His patience was wearing thin with every moment Seer tested him.


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"

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 boy's eyes snapped open, his breathing count lost. He could see the anger in there, the fires they were trying to mold into something useful instead of something explosive and out of control. He fought the urge to smile as he saw the anger in his amber eyes. Oh Art. he thought fondly. His use of the word ‘Sir’ was definitely derogatory. His eyes slipped close, and he struggled to find his center again, his breathing. “Ahh.” Sirius said, his sad tones exaggerated and mournful. “If only you had a method to control your anger, so you could focus.” He smacked the ground in front of Art, coming to a stop in front of him. “ This Is precisely why you are here. This is what it's about. Finding a way to deal with it when your calm is under attack. Was your anger useful? No. It was blinding. You didn’t care who or what was in your way, you just wanted to relieve it. Will you lose your temper in the middle of a battle and be a danger to those around you? To Briar ?” his words were carefully tempered, pointed. He knew the fault of Art's anger was the Warlords own, but Art had discovered its existence now. He could not add the gentleness and affection that he felt into the words. There was a point to this, and softness would only mar it. He held his pose in front of Art, letting the boy find his patience once more. He was quiet when he began his circling again, the stick in his maw once more. He stopped directly behind the boy, lingering there for a moment, and then moving on. One circle, then another. “Do you think Briar wants to see you angry?” he asked mockingly, smacking the boy on his tender toes as he said it. “Poor Art, just an angry child. A boy who can do nothing for his pack.” he snarled, rapping the stick along his ribs. "Speech"

It was only once Sirius' expression shifted into one of sad disappointment did Artorias realize he had let himself slip. The anger had started to flare up, and as soon as it had, he had let it come out enough to use it to berate his mentor. Cold recognition cooled his head like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him, and a newfound frustration reared its ugly head—but it was frustration at himself. He had let himself slip up that quickly. He didn't have enough control. He listened quietly while Sirius chided him for his mistake, reminding him of why he was here in the first place. He asked if he would lose his temper in the heat of battle, lose control and become a threat to everyone near him? He was reminded of the night of the saber cat attack—the night when he had first noticed the slipping of Resin's mind, how she had been lashing out at everything without discrimination. No, no he didn't want to be that. Seer pressed his weak point harder when he brought Briar into the equation. Would he lose his temper with Briar? Would he become a danger to her too, the way Seer had been a danger to her?

Artorias gnashed his teeth harder together, stifling another growl in his throat. When it became apparent that Sirius was not going to do anything until he reset himself, Artorias composed himself again and sat upright, exhaling hard to let out some of that aggression that had been starting to bubble like magma inside his core. His eyes closed, blocking out the world, and he resumed his breathing. In, hold, out... Keep the count. In, hold, out... The subtle sounds of Sirius moving began again, but he was moving much more carefully, avoiding any obvious crunches of snow, making it harder to know exactly where he was. In, hold, out...

Sirius taunted him, asking if he thought Briar wanted to see him angry. He bit his tongue to silence another yip when the stick rapped against his toes, paws flexing and claws scratching at the stone while every instinct inside him urged him to lunge for the Warlord. To not take the abuse and to show that he wouldn't be taken advantage of. "Don't bring Briar into this," he muttered through gritted teeth almost on reflex. He hated how he used Briar like a weapon against him. He hated how Seer seemed to know exactly how much Briar meant to him, like he was able to see right through Art.

The stick hit his ribs this time right as he was inhaling, knocking the breath from him in a startled gasp. He wasn't an angry child. He wasn't useless to his pack. His lips curled back into a silent snarl, his brow creasing as he put more and more effort into focusing on his breathing. It was harder now, each inhale and exhale strained, his eyes screwed shut while he tried his damnedest to keep up with his training. The meditation had all but ended by now, all peace long gone while Art just kept himself breathing to not attack his mentor. He didn't know how much more he could keep up with though. If Seer kept pushing those buttons and hitting him with that fucking stick he didn't know what he'd do.


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"

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.
____________________

“Good for you” Sirius said approvingly. He might have been giving it his best shot to make Art angry, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t approve of Art's constant defence of his daughter. Despite his mention of Briar, he managed to keep himself where he was told to be. Making his way through his breathings, holding his temper and his place. Sirius could see that it was an effort of will - but one the boy was winning. He stopped for a moment, stopped and just looked. This was what a child raised by the noble Resin and compassionate Tamsyn looked like. A boy that could not be riled easily, and yet was not to be trifled with. Seers own body was testament to that. Fighting a sudden, but silly urge to pull Art into a hug, he instead circled the boy once more. Stopping in front of him again, he let the stick fall to the ground, and crouched on the snow. Leaning forward, he rested his head lightly against Art. “No, your anger doesn't control you.” He murmured softly, a compliment. Then he lifted himself to his paws again with a groan. Yeah, that hole in his paw pad was going to ache for a while. “Alright. You’ve got the basics down. Breathing, body awareness, and mental awareness of your anger and what tempers it. To expand on that - I want you to think what instructions you would give another to control their temper. How would you lead meditation? Or would you choose a different path.” He tapped Arts paw lightly with his own. “Get to your paws Artorias. Teaching is one of the ways to learn, so we are going to swap roles for a time. Think about your own anger, and put that into words you think would help another. Then-” and here he gave a cheeky grin “-If you still feel like smacking me with my own stick, we can have a little spar.” just… out of view of Tamsyn. "Speech"

The Carpathius boy had been skirting right near the edge of a breakdown, on the verge of losing himself to the anger if Sirius kept pushing him. But, just when he was tensed and waiting for the next lash of the stick or pointed words from the Warlord, nothing came. Only silence. Artorias sat there, breathing deeply, albeit quicker than he had been when he was just relaxing, counting in his head with each breath. In and out, in and out, over and over. As the seconds slipped by, the fires began to burn out, turning back into smoldering embers in his soul. He hadn't quite reached that exploding point that would have turned them into a wildfire, but it had been close. The lava ebbed away, and as his spirit began to cool, Art found his breathing also started to slow. After a few minutes, he had come back down, left only with his focused thoughts on Briar and the sounds of the sea.

When Sirius still said or did nothing, amber eyes began to peek open with a hint of trepidation, spotting Sirius sitting before him as he dropped the stick to the ground. He blinked his eyes open fully, watching while the bigger wolf crouched down and rested his forehead against his. He had been so caught up in wrestling himself that he hadn't heard Seer's compliment the first time, but he definitely heard this one. His anger didn't control him—at least not yet. Art's heart soared to hear that he wasn't lost to his emotions yet, no matter how wild they may be inside of him. A pang of guilt hit him when he heard Seer groan while trying to stand, ears flattened to his skull. That was exactly the reason why he needed to control himself. He had caused that pain from a place of wretched negativity, a place he never wanted to be again. Nobody else deserved to get hurt the way he had hurt his friend.

Sirius gave him his next task: how to instruct others to control their tempers. How would he lead another the way Seer had led him? At the Warlord's command, Artorias rose to his feet, eyes wide with disbelief as he was told to guide Seer through a meditation. Sirius finished his instructions with a roguish grin and the prospect of a little spar at the end. Art grinned back, fiery eyes alight with excitement at the thought of getting to spar with the Warlord of the Armada. When he had been a pup, Seer had told him to train well so one day they may meet as warriors. Perhaps Art hadn't expected such an injured Seer to want to take him up on that offer, but they could play it by ear.

"Okay, we'll see about that. My Mom would literally kill me if she finds out I sparred with you in this condition," he replied with an equally sassy smirk. Artorias sucked in a slow breath, steadying himself for the task at hand. Guide Sirius through a meditation. Okay, he could do that... "Get comfortable, Sirius. Sitting, lying down, whatever's easiest for you right now. Then, close your eyes." All right, good step one. Art waited for Seer to make himself comfortable before he moved over to sit beside the Warlord, letting his own eyes close. He liked to lead from the side, working right along with someone so they were always on the same level. No one was superior to another in this moment; it was just two wolves sharing a tranquil moment.

"I want you to take a deep breath with me. In..." Artorias drew in a deep breath to fill his lungs. He held it for a few seconds, listening to Seer beside him to make sure he was following along. "...and out." He exhaled, letting the breath slip slowly from his lungs. "Again. In... and out." Artorias knew how he wanted to approach this: by using the natural elements that surrounded them. He had always felt in touch with the world. Fire, water, air, earth... "Listen to the waves in the distance. The wind around you. Smell the salt from the sea in the air. Breathe in... and out... Keep doing that. Let the waves wash away the tension, let them clear your mind." Artorias continued the breathing exercises alongside Sirius for a few more moments, letting the Warlord follow his directions and take in the sensations of the elements. "I want you to picture yourself floating. Just floating. It can be in a river or a lake or the ocean. Feel the weightlessness of your body as you drift. Feel the tension and the strain leave your muscles. Keep breathing, in and out, just like that."

Now came the more difficult part. Art knew this wouldn't be as effective if he left it out though. "Keep your eyes closed, and follow me with your mind. Look to your side. Notice another wolf floating with you. It can be any wolf you love, a wolf close to you who makes you smile, a wolf you care about and cherish." He swallowed, remaining calm and stoic while secretly fearing he wasn't about to set the Warlord off. "Picture them as physically as I am next to you. You're both floating in the water together. There's no world beyond the two of you, no cares, no worries, nothing. All there is, is you and them." He paused, thinking and picturing Briar, the two young wolves adrift in an endless warm sea in their own little world. Nothing could get to them. They were together and they were safe. "Listen to the waves. Let them take you both far away until there's nothing left but you." Slowly, Artorias peeked an eye open to check on Sirius, making sure he was still doing okay.


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"

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.
____________________

Lately, Sirius felt like an old, old man. Between his broken heart and his numerous injuries, his body felt… old. Slower than it should be. He could shut down the pain and move when he needed to, but for now he was conserving his energy. He leaned back on his hunches as Art got to his feet. He returned the Warlord's smile. Art was right about that, but Sirius wouldn’t let it deter him. Art deserved an outlet after Seer had riled him up as he had. As they switched roles as teacher and student, Sirius settled himself onto the ground. He decided to lie on his belly - one of the few places not injured, and took his weight off his paws. He rested his head on an unbandaged part of his paw, and closed his eyes. He managed - just - to fight the urge to snore loudly. Through his closed eyed, he sensed Art settling in beside him. He did as the younger wolf instructed, matching his breathing to that of his teacher. He listened to the waves. He had always liked the ocean, had chosen the Sea’s Plains in the Armada to bring them closer to it. But he digressed. He listened to the wind, and in his next breath, he scented the air. He thought of being in a lake, and twitched subtly. He had been in a lake once, when Ashen had held their territory at Wolfpaw Lake. He had fallen in trying to catch birds to pluck their feathers to make pillowcases for his Empress. Of all the silly things to be doing… and he had been doing it with Zee. Before he had known who she truly was. The heavy Warlord who had come from a land like a desert had not known how to swim, and he had almost drowned. Zee, at the risk of her own neck, had saved him. Zee. His sassy, waspish, but ultimately loving Queen. He had lost track of Arts instructions, and fought to remember what the boy had said. He dismissed the idea of the lake, and instead thought of a cloudy day. Already close to his thoughts, he conquered an image of his Zee. Og her tawny coat, and the brindle of blue that lingered like clouds on her coat. Of the frosting of blue along her neck. How soft her eyelids were when closed. How linless her face was in sleep. Of the long curves of her antlers, though they had come later. The result of a witches brew that he had very specifically told her not to take. They had watched the world change together, he and Zee. They had watched as the volcano erupted, swallowing half of Bores. The thing that had killed Deathbells mate and his brother and sometimes enemy. Of the ash that had been a part of their world for seasons, before exposing new life and lush lands beneath it. Zee. Beside him, on the clouds. He did not know it, but he soundlessly cried, tasting salt on his tongue. "Speech"

Artorias saw the thin trails of crystalline tears shimmering almost like diamonds on the edges of Sirius' muzzle when he peeked at the man beside him. The sight froze him on the spot, watching silently while the emotions ran down his face. He didn't need to be a psychic to know who he was thinking of to draw such a reaction from the hardened Warlord. He also didn't know what directions to give from here. He felt way out of his league with an emotional Sirius on his paws. He had been preparing for anger, for an explosion or eruption, but this... this silent, painful sadness... He had not been prepared for this. Artorias swallowed hard, trying to think of what he could even attempt to say, but no words he could come up with could do justice to the sense of loss and longing hurting Seer. A thought came to his mind. It was something Resin had said to him the day she locked herself away from the world with a pained look in her eye. It was the only advice he could think of worthy of the glorious love Sirius harbored for his Zee.

"Look at her," he spoke softly, watching Sirius' expressions all the while, all thoughts of meditation for himself gone while he worked to help his friend through this. "Take in everything that she is. Remember why she is the wolf you chose to be with you right now." He paused, allowing Sirius to follow his guidance, if he was even still listening. "Remember her for how she is with you now. How she made you feel, how she will always make you feel, why she is your wolf you come back to when you need to find your peace." He blinked back a few tears welling up in the corners of his own eyes, feeling an empathetic connection to Sirius that ran deep. "She is always with you to help guide your thoughts and actions. She is yours, and you are hers—you, in this very moment, just the way you are. Calm. Relaxed. The way she always wants you to be. Now make a door in your mind. Think about this moment, memorize it, and come back here through that door to her whenever you feel yourself slipping away."

After a few more moments to allow the heartbroken Warlord some more time with his beloved, Artorias knew it was time to bring their session to a close. "Good... Now walk through the door... Breathe in... Breathe out... and open your eyes..." Once Sirius had returned to the real world, Artorias got down to his belly next to the dire wolf and rested his head against Seer's, offering him someone to lean on. Even though he was still a yearling wolf, he could be someone the seasoned man could turn to when he needed a friend to prop him up. Artorias had always wanted to protect his wolves—all wolves, including the stubborn Warlord, and this was how he could do it. By protecting him from himself. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment, his voice shaking a little, hoping he hadn't upset Sirius too much by dredging up any painful memories.


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"

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.
____________________

She is always with you She is yours, and you are hers It was like a switch in the Warlord. The rage swept through him, crushing away the tears. The endeavor that Art had made to bring him peace through looking at his love ones wasted. Sirius should have picked another to dwell on - Tamsyn, who had given him peace in the Hallows. Asla, who waited for him to be strong again. Briar, even Art. Another, any other.

He had ceased to listen to Arts advice, the rage built in him, rising to a crescendo and crashing through his veins. “SHE IS NOT MINE ANY LONGER. SHE LEFT ME!” he roared. Surging to his feet, only for his body to fail him as he landed heavily on his wounded paw. His leg gave quickly, and he almost crashed head first to the snow, breathing heavily.

There it was, the rage that driven him to hurt Tamsyn, to push Artorias to murder. It burned through him, and burned up just as quickly. Leaving him hollow and shaking in its wake. The battered and bruised and largely broken Warlord rose shakily to his paws. He looked to Art to ensure he had not hurt the boy when he jerked so violently, and sighed softly. “There is no peace for men like me.” He said softly.

"Speech"

The Warlord exploded, his anger surging from seemingly out of nowhere as he bellowed and all but sprung to his paws, which immediately gave out under his injuries. Artorias had not been harmed, merely knocked aside from the sudden movement, watching with guarded eyes while Sirius tried and failed to get up, eventually devolving into shaking on the snow. He got to his feet alongside Sirius, much more successfully this second attempt, and watched him with doubt in his eyes. He didn't believe that, not for a second. If there was one thing to be said for Art, the boy was tenacious to a fault and bore no heed to any dangers when it came to his loved ones. The courageous boy stepped closer to the shaking dire wolf until he was standing right in front of him, fixing him with a disheartened look.

"She didn't leave you," he corrected Sirius, reaching with a paw towards the older wolf's chest. "She's here. Just because you can't see her out here doesn't mean she's gone. The same way Resin's gonna be in here for me." He gestured with the same paw to his own heart, refusing to give up on Sirius, despite how obvious it was the Warlord had already given up on himself. "I've seen you at peace. I know what you're saying isn't true. I saw you laughing and smiling and playing with us all when we were pups down on the plains. Briar's told me stories about how you used to toss her in the air and snuggle her when she was littler, how your eyes would go soft every time you looked at her and her siblings. You can say there's no peace for you, but I've seen it."

His nose wrinkled up as he addressed another qualm with the Warlord's terse and shortsighted statement. "And what do you mean 'men like you'? You mean loving fathers devoted to their children? Or do you mean admirable alphas who keep their wolves safe day in and day out? Or was it the caring friend that took my mother in when she was at her lowest and turned her into the strongest wolf I know? Please tell me, so I know exactly what kind of man I shouldn't be."


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"

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.
____________________

He smacked the boy's paw away, though the anger was dimmer this time. “Leave your platitudes, I don’t want a ghost. I want my Wife ” he was a ‘believe what you can touch’ sort of wolf. He and Zee both had sniffed in disdain at the Abraxas wolves who thought themselves Gods.

Pain sharpened his tongue, and though he did not wish to aliante the boy, his words cut Sirius as sharply as a knife. He needed him to stop “I mean men that have slaughtered their way through fields, killing innocents and warriors alike. Men that took the lives of slaves just because they frowned at their masters. Men that tortured on command, and fought those that rose against their overlords. You have seen but a drop in the ocean of who I am and what my life is. I chose to become a better person for the sake of her but I have kidnapped, killed, and hurt more than I care to remember. You think I’m the hero of the story, but I have spent more of my life as the villain.” He drew himself up “You’ve seen glimpses of the man I have been and time has not tempered me as much as others might like.”

"Speech"

The sympathy and kindness in Artorias' eyes began to fade with every word the Warlord spoke. There was so much self-deprecation, so much self-loathing inside the broken man. He wanted to paint himself into the visage of a villain, of someone who had done some terrible things and bore sins and crimes that could not be forgiven. He wanted to disregard the good he had done in favor of being the bad guy of the story. Artorias steeled his gaze, eyes narrowing and jaw locking while he held the Warlord's gaze. Nothing the brute had said had scared him, startled him, disturbed him. Art was acutely aware of the darkness in the world, and if Sirius had been an agent of it, those were his demons to grapple with. But if he truly felt he was beyond redeeming, then there was only one thing he could say to convince him he was wrong.

"Exactly! You chose to become better of your own volition. You chose to become a father and a role model to your children. Nobody forced you or ordered you to do that. You weren't being a good little pawn obeying an order from a pampered, prissy monarch. You were being Sirius Fatalis, deciding who he wanted to be and what he wanted from his life. Whether you did that for yourself or someone else, you did that." Artorias raised his voice to match the level of Sirius, refusing to back down. "You truly think you're irredeemable? That your bad outweighs your good? That your wife is the only thing that defined you as good? That you don't deserve peace?" He pointed with a paw just past Sirius, to the edge of the castle wall, and the sheer drop that lay there. "There's your peace. Go on, go throw away everything you've done to try and make a difference. Throw away the family you created in the Armada. Go make your children orphans because you couldn't stop hating yourself. Show the whole damned world what kind of a man Sirius Fatalis really is."

Artorias huffed, then turned his back on Sirius and began heading for the steps. "You're better than this self-deprecating shit, Sirius. I just wish you'd learn that sooner than later," he muttered as he walked away. He gave a short howl for his mother to come and collect the man-child as he reached the stairs. He didn't want to leave the possibility for Seer to actually kill himself on the table. He had said what he did to prove his point, not to drive the wolf to suicide. There had already been one attempt, best not offer a second, just in case.


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"

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.
____________________

At the very least, Art was no longer talking about Zee lingering in his heart and spirit and thoughts or whatever it was people believed. Art was injured by the Warlords words, as Sirius had meant him to be. His sharp logic cut into Sirius, with more practicality and less pain then his words on Zee had been.

Reminding Sirius that it had been his choice, to draw himself up and create something different and better. For himself, for Zee, for the Armada. The boy was, quite clearly, done with Seers theatrics.

He watched Art head down the steps, until his familiar blue tail had disappeared. So much for his meditation lesson, but then, becoming the student he realised was the wrong mood. He had too much baggage, and his grip upon it all was too slim. Better to keep a cool teacher's distance between them.

In the absence of Art, he staggered slowly over towards the castle edge. The drop to the ocean that Artorias had egged him towards. He leaned against the side, looking over and down and closed his eyes. Feeling this spot, where the wind was sharpest coming over the edge. The cool wind and the scents it brought with it. The truth was, the desire to do so, to take one more step was so heartbreakingly tempting. He was hurting Artorias, he was hurting Tamsyn, with his presence here.
Zee… Oh Zee. His queen and Northern Star was only a breath away from him. Standing on the precipice, he could almost feel her beside him. As through the veil between them was thinnest with the promise of death.
Would it truly be so bad? Would it truly hurt more than it would heal? To take that step.

"Speech"