It had surprised Aela, the profound feeling of love that Fyr inspired. That emotion had always been the one she had been most careful of, the one she almost always refused to project or replicate; it was a strong emotion, but it was volatile as well. For every situation that she might wield in her favor, there was always the risk that it would backfire and implode everything she was working towards. They doused your soul in water,
Love, she knew, was intricately tied to hate.
But the feeling that blossoms in her slender chest is genuine, and the emotion that radiates back to her is as well. She smoothes the dark mane of the young colt, and basks in his baby scent of burning flowers and lost souls. "Start with whoever you can find," Aela councils her son, "and even if they show you your own weaknesses, at least you know where to start." Fyr doesn't want to appear weak, but the golden Seneschal decides to show him how she had once been. It's a short memory: it is a young palomino filly, trembling against the spotted side of her dam.
Aela hadn't even been able to speak then.
She has traveled quite the path since those days, and the Seneschal doesn't doubt that Fyr will grow to become something greater than he is now.
"Just be careful where it regards him, Fyr." She sighs, and her flaxen tail brushes against her striped legs. She could feel the boy's uncertainty where it regarded this strange stallion - and the way it increases when Aela had mentioned the possibility of him being his sire - and that was good. The colt had been left at the Den, and Aela felt that any man who couldn't concern himself with his trysts would hardly concern himself with the outcome of them.
Like Obscene, who had seemed surprised to have not one but two children.
"And know that the things you can do are your own."
@Fyr
but the flames raged higher.
And they called you devil's daughter,
such a pretty liar.
@Fyr