The walk was long, and Erik should have used to it sort out exactly what he was going to say upon arriving in the Hallows. Everything sounded too... too dramatic? Not dramatic enough? Desperate? Asking for help is far outside his comfort zone, and they'd already done so much for him. How could he ask for more? It seemed the mountain was only making Víðarr worse by the day, the once-king deteriorating far more rapidly in the warmth of the summer. He'd gotten harsher with his children, colder to everyone around, and woke up in a cold sweat more often than not. Always with her name on his lips, always with something terrible grasping at his brain.

As Erik draws to the Hallows borders, he's ragged. The walk was long, and his father didn't seem to sleep. He'd rebuked Björn so badly during the trip, that the boy had scattered off into the woods. Erik hadn't heard the fight in its entirety, but words had been exchanged. Nasty, horrible words. Things that were better off unsaid, out in the open now. Perhaps the boy, too, was a reminder of Tenshi that he needed to push away. Push down.

It's late afternoon by the time he arrives. Víðarr's sleeplessness had caught up to him, grabbed him by the skull and left him huddled in a small rocky outcrop in the Fjord. Unwilling to waste more time, even more unwilling to arrive in the middle of the night, Erik had left him there to sleep it off. The dogs would stand guard, he wasn't in any danger. He'd be better off pleading their case alone. Fuck, pleading is against his nature, but... well, you know what he means.

Erik's call shatters the stillness of the winter afternoon. As close to Auster as winter ever came, at least. A call not just for Ember, but for Artorias too. The request he'd make on behalf of his father was for the lord of cinders, but the one for himself? It occurs to him that Ember may be upset that he'd been gone for so long, even if the time had largely been spent fighting Víðarr's demons. She should have the right to refuse him, as well.

"Erik"

The winter is unlike anything Ember had ever experienced. Born into the season when it had just been wet, not winter was cold, snowy, and frosted with ice. She didn't dislike it—in fact, Ember quite enjoyed the snow—but all of it reminded her of him. Of the mountain where she'd met him, where she'd cured him, where she thought they'd fallen in love. And yet he had gone and disappeared on her again. Gone off to do who knows what in gods knew where. She'd stayed all the same to help Delphi with Hemlock, but when that became a futile effort and Erik never reappeared, Em simply returned home to try and not think about it. It was an impossible task, of course. Made even more impossible by the call that came from the north end of the plains one wintry afternoon.

Ember's ears flicked, her head snapping up from the wines she was helping to prepare down in the cellars. After sharing a look with her mother and being dismissed, Ember sprinted out of the castle and across the snow-covered plains in the direction of the call. There was no way. There was no fucking way! Oh, but there was... and there he stood at the border, his dark form silhouetted against the undisturbed snow on all sides. Drawing closer to him, Em could see him in his entirety now. He was an adult, fully grown and towering a half foot over her. He was broad with thick muscles, very much filled out as a boy who had become a man. He also looked tired, mentally and physically fatigued, like he'd been off fighting a war.

Her pace slowed as Ember came closer, pausing a few paces away as she looked him over. She hadn't thought to grab her cloak on her way out the door, so she stood before him in her entirety too. She had grown up as well, no longer an adolescent but a woman. Slender, svelte, curvy in all the right places, standing on long legs with planes of taut muscle from days of running and swimming. Her oceanic eyes stared into his fiery gaze, looking at him like perhaps she was seeing a ghost. Gods, just seeing him again made her stomach clench. Or maybe that was just her heat season doing that to her.

After a moment of silence, Ember closed the gap, walking right up to her viking boy. Her viking man. Her breath hung in a humid cloud as she studied him, looking him over, then holding his gaze once more. Those eyes narrowed a touch, the only show of her frustration at seeing him again so cavalier at the border. "Everyone said you were dead. Apparently they were wrong," she mused aloud, her voice still melodic, now mature and refined, and oh so deadly with emotion. "You have some nerve leaving me behind on your mountain then showing up at my home, Erik. Where the hell did you go?!" Part of her wanted to reach over and claw his face off. Another part of her wanted to grab him by the face and kiss him hard. She'd wait to hear his response before she decided on which option she'd choose.

"Ember Carpathius" | "Carpathian"

There's a grim feeling that spreads over him, waiting for someone to heed his call. Erik had royally screwed up, when it came to how he'd left things. Ember had done so much for him, and he'd gone off without a word again. Preventing the old man from doing something drastic had taken all of his strength, with the grim notion that Víðarr could have gone down swinging on his own children. It had been a bad stint, perhaps the worst yet. Words he didn't know how to say, and the explanation of his father's difficulties lately... it was difficult to explain. The aggression he'd seen was channeled at Björn alone, until Erik had attempted to intervene. Deeply troubling, but at least he wasn't a danger to society on a whole.

A danger to himself, though, that's a different story. Erik doesn't know how to help, not in any tangible way. Getting him off the mountain, once and for all, may be enough to save him. To save him, to help him in some way. Trying to calm the war inside his head, even if the likelihood was slim, at this rate. There's something deeply horrifying about seeing your father for the first time, not as your father, but as a man. Erik was living that horror day to day.

When Ember appears, it's wildly apparent just how much had changed in the few seasons since he'd last seen her. Heart pounding for a moment, gaze softening as she comes into focus. She'd filled out in all the right places, and she looked... upset didn't begin to cover it. Erik couldn't blame her. Shuffling his paws in the slush, knowing that he's well and truly screwed up. It does little to dampen the way he looks at her-- pleading, but still with the same possessive air. A fire that can't be put out.


"Nearly was," he grimaced, something that would have been a rueful smile in a lighter mood. The rumors hadn't been true, but the blood on the snow certainly painted a picture. There's no blaming anyone for coming to that conclusion. "I'm sorry, Em. My father had some kind of... episode that night, I heard him get up and went after him. He was delirious, talking about aptrganga and..." Erik trailed off, tipping his head only slightly. Scars from the brawl that night still living on his skin, though they'd healed.

"Tenshi's death hit him harder than he let on." The words are spoken quietly, confidentially. Weight on his chest, in the pit of his stomach, words he's been too proud to actually say to anyone finally breaking through. "I had to stop him from throwing himself off the mountain, and chased him all through the north to get him back... he's more stable now, but things aren't good." Erik's tone is that of a man who's exhausted to the bone. Tired in a way that tired doesn't begin to cover, sadness and exhaustion written over his rough-hewn features.

"I'm sorry, I tried to send word, but it took everything to get him back enough to travel." Erik speaks quietly, taking some time to find the words in the common tongue. They're difficult, weighty in his mouth. Everything is heavy around him. He doesn't think before he speaks, the words breaking the surface before he can stop them. "I love you, Ember. I wouldn't have left you if it hadn't been life or death."

"Erik"

Under her scathing words, Erik seems almost ashamed. Like he knew that he had royally fucked up and that there would be consequences to face. His look is pleading, begging her for something. For understanding? For sympathy? For mercy? Whatever it was, Ember held her steely gaze on the larger brute, silently enjoying knowing he was internally writhing under her intensity. He tries to make a joking rebuke, but it falls flat, him flinching and her simply staring at him. Then came the apologies. He had chased after his mentally unwell father, even fighting him as he lost himself to his grief. Em had known Víðarr had taken Tenshi's death... well, badly would've been an understatement. Erik had saved the old man from ending his own life it seemed, at the cost of his own skin. A noble tale—or it would have been if the one listening hadn't been silently seething at him.

Ember was quiet while Erik spoke, giving him the air, listening intently to his words. Fuck, she hated that she still loved how his voice sounded. She couldn't say she understood; how could she? She'd never had to face the challenge of a mentally ill loved one before. But she could empathize with his love for his father. She wondered what she would have done if her own sire had fallen from grace as Víðarr had. The Carpathian family was extremely tight knit; she would have done anything for any of her kin. Erik had done the same. The intensity in Ember's eyes flickered, wavering slightly as she listened and considered his words. Erik was a proud wolf, all of the Trygg bloodline was. To admit his shortcomings and his need for help was no small feat for the wolf. He looked weathered and exhausted and beaten. He needed help. He needed her help.

Em barely heard him when he said he had tried to send word, but she definitely heard him when he spoke those three words to her. "I love you, Ember." Ember's expression froze in shock, her heart leaping in her chest. Her eyes widened, the anger melting from her delicate feminine features as the words repeated in her head again and again. Her gaze dropped from his, looking down at the empty space between them. Emotions of all sorts swarmed in her heart like a maelstrom. Anger, sorrow, heartbreak, confusion, joy, relief, love. Love. Erik loved her. Em swallowed down the emotion choking her and fixed her gaze on her rugged mountain man once more. Then her paws were moving on their own accord, bringing her closer to the viking brute until they were nearly chest to chest. She looked up at him, looked into his eyes, saw the sincerity in those beautiful fire opal jewels. He wasn't lying. He wasn't sweet-talking her. He was telling the truth.

Smack! Ember's paw came up swiftly to slap Erik across his cheek, keeping her feline claws retracted to she didn't do any actual damage to him. She huffed a few breaths to let out the last of her pent up anger, letting it fade into the cold air on the cloud of her breath. She had needed that. But she needed this more. Reaching both paws up, Ember gently cupped Erik's face in her paws, keeping his muzzle mere inches from hers, ensuring his attention was hers and hers alone. "Lämna mig igen på din risk." She spoke to him in his tongue with breathy, deadly tones, giving him only a moment to realize she was speaking his language before she brought her mouth to his and claimed it in a slow, needy kiss. Gods, she had missed him so fucking much!

Ember kissed Erik long and hard, savoring his presence, reveling in his taste. Whether it was her longing heart or her desperate heat that urged her she didn't know nor did she care. She had Erik back. When she finally broke their kiss, Em leaned forward to rest her forehead against his chest. Breathing in his scent, feeling his fur against her cheek. He was here! "I waited for you in Hemlock for two seasons. I slept in your bed every night praying you'd be there in the morning. I learned your tongue so I could tell you how much I cared in your own words," she whispered just for him to hear. She didn't want to twist the knife any more than he'd already done to himself, but she needed him to understand. "Jag älskar dig, Erik. Don't make me feel like an idiot for loving you again, Erik."

"Ember Carpathius" | "Carpathian"

Calls for his attention at the border were not something unfamiliar to the Lord of Cinder, but the voice that summoned him and his daughter was not one Artorias had been expecting to hear. Erik was no stranger to the Hallows, especially given the boy's close relationship with Ember, but he had been absent of late and Ember had been surprisingly tight-lipped about him. He suspected they'd had some sort of falling out, but kept out of her business, not wanting to be that nosy busybody father that annoyed his children. Artorias had been catering to Briar since her pregnancy was confirmed, taking care of his wife and making sure the castle was prepared to receive a new litter of puppies, so when Erik called, he dropped the puppy pen he was rebuilding in their room, threw on his cloak, and headed out to meet the lad.

Trudging through the snow, Artorias crossed the plains with his ravens in tow until he spotted not just Erik at the border, but Ember there as well. When he drew closer, Art saw Ember holding onto Erik and resting her head on his chest, clearly overcome with emotion. Artorias smiled softly and held back for a moment to let them have their moment before finishing his approach. "Erik! It's good to see you again!" he greeted the admittedly exhausted-looking young man. A concern grew in the Lord's heart as he took in Erik's appearance. "Is everything all right? You seem... troubled." It was a light way of describing the situation, but he didn't know the full circumstances of what was happening with Erik.

"Artorias" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Eira" | "Argent"