 We are at war. There will be scars.
If it is strange to meet your father for the first time in a kingdom meeting, this does not occur to Erebor. He is not a sentimental creature, and so it does not strike him that his father should have been there at his birth. He feels the father-son attachment in a different way: he is proud to be descended from such a man, because he knows that Warship is as eminently of the Chamber as Straia, and because he knows that Warship is a warrior.
The practices of warfare and politics are endlessly interesting to the young prince. If Beqanna had books, he'd be the boy reading the classics late into the night. He'd be the one eating up the military histories, sifting through ancient newspapers, geeking out over the latest documentary. But unfortunately for him, he was born without hands, in a world where books don't exist. And therefore, he must make do with the best secondhand information he can get. Which means talking to absolutely everyone, especially his father.
He finds the man within the Chamber easily enough. The place seems empty even to him, and he cannot wait until he is old enough to go out and help with the recruiting. Mind you, he doesn't hesitate to recruit because he is afraid to leave home; he doesn't want the Chamber to appear weak or desperate because a child is out in the field. Even at his age, strategy is always on his mind.
"Warship." He greets, his voice surprisingly rich and pleasant for one so young. Looking at his father, he smiles slightly. "Father." There is just a hint of amusement and warmth in his tone. He wants to be sure that his father will like him, and unlike his mother he does not consider that a given. Therefore, he's aiming for at least a little dose of charm.
There is no denying their relationship when the two stand together. They are so alike in build and in coloring, both black (so different from Straia). But within Erebor's head, he is perhaps the best of both of them – equal parts efficient, analytic, circumspect, charming, and loyal – always loyal.
As always, the boy has a million questions. But even with his father, he maintains his decorum and waits for his father to acknowledge his presence before he starts peppering the man. Erebor is nothing if not respectful, especially for his elders. The elders are the key to the past, and the past is the key to everything. As far as he is concerned, learn everything you possibly can, study every strategy, every war, every battle. Practice hard to train your muscles and your reflexes. And then when your time to fight does come (and he does not doubt that it will), you will be ready.
He will be ready. Erebor Native Prince of the Chamber warship x straia
i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
He remembers his relationship with his own father. It had never been one of love and affections. But it had been an efficient relationship, one that Warship had thrived under. He had learned the history of the lands. The paths among the trees and against the rocks, he learned to travel them quickly and quietly. He memorized the kingdom borders, until he could patrol them in even the darkest of nights. He had learned battle maneuvers and war strategy. There was never any coddling, from either of his parents. Both had been utterly devoted to their kingdom and had raised a child in their own image.
Now was his chance to raise a child in his own image. A child born largely for the same reasons he himself had been born; for the greater good. Like himself, Erebor had not been a child born from love. He had been a child born for a purpose, for a crown and battle scars. Whether he was aware of it or not, the weight of the world had been placed on the colts shoulders from the moment he slipped from his mothers womb. The expectations that he would be great were immense. Warship certainly expected it of him, and would have no problem pushing the child to his breaking point just to see what he was made of. The Chamber held no place for bleeding hearts and weak souls. It was a land that would harden the spine and the heart and break them both in the next breath. Warship intended that the child knew this early on, like he himself had learned.
A warriors brain is never truly turned off, and even though he is dozing amongst the trees the colts approach does not go unnoticed. “Erebor. Child.” he said with the hint of a chuckle, opening an eye to watch the boy, even has his own hind leg cocked as he relaxed. He knew the colt had questions, could literally feel them in the air like static. But true to his lineage, the colt maintained him composure, and Warship could not help but smile at the tiny, stony face that looked back at him. It was like looking into a time machine and seeing himself so many years ago. Before the silvery scars, before the infinity symbol seared onto his chest. Before the mental lapse and ruthlessness, when he was still an innocent. Before he had seen the devil and spit in his face. A blank slate. “You know, you’re important to this kingdom. Not because you’re a prince. Because of who you are, because of the blood that flows through your veins.” he said thoughtfully, tilting his head as he regarded his progeny. “The same heart that beats in your chest? It’s the same heart that beats in the very ground of this kingdom. Your grandfathers name is synonymous with this kingdom. There has perhaps never been a greater general than Atrox.” It was true. Warship couldn’t hold a candle to the things his father had done, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. But before him stood a new link to the past and the present, a diamond in the rough ready to be polished into the perfect stone.
warship 
We are at war. There will be scars.
Efficiency.
It is a good word for Erebor, both in his own opinion and no doubt in the opinion of his parents. He expects that both love him, in their own way, but he appreciates that they do not smother him with that love. He appreciates that they expect just as much of him as he expects of himself. He appreciates that they allow him to push himself, to work hard to build up the Chamber, to enter the castes far younger than any horse should, to take on far more responsibility than any youngling should really be accepting.
If he knew just how much his father saw a resemblance between them, no doubt the young prince would be proud. Already he looks up to his father, in much the same way that he looks up to his mother. He sees them both as shining paragons, pillars of everything that the Chamber needs. Devoted servants (although he doesn't know just how devoted – he is too young to know of things like deals with magicians).
His father speaks, and the boy listens with rapt attention as his father unravels their family history. He has always wondered about the heartbeat, and it makes so much sense to him now why he would have heard it, would have known it almost before he knew anything else. It makes sense now why he could hear it in his ears even at the borders, why it seems to drum up through his feet, why it seems to control his pulse. It's because it is his heart, it is his blood, and this is his home. Truly, he is born of the Chamber.
He blinks, taking all of the information in without losing his stoicism. "Atrox." he repeats, staring at the ground (and feeling its heartbeat) as he tests out the name. It sounds strong, certain, stoic – much like his name, he hopes. "It is almost the first thing I can remember." he shares with his father, his eyes still fixed on the ground as though he can peel back the layers of the land, piercing his eyes directly into the Chamber's heart and seeing his grandfather staring back. "Before I was born."
His eyes trace upward slowly to meet his father's gaze again. "I wish to know everything about him." he says, not commanding, but stating a very decided intent. He loves nothing more than studying history, and he can feel in his bones that the great general would be a worthy inspiration even if Erebor didn't have his blood running through his veins. "I wish to learn everything I can." his voice is even as always, but there is a taut undercurrent of excitement in his tones. He has found inspiration in his father and grandfather, and he wishes to know more, to live up to their example as best he can. He does not seek to surpass Atrox or Warship in fame; instead, he seeks to serve the Chamber as well or better than they did. As absolutely best as he can. Erebor Native Prince of the Chamber warship x straia
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