Of Two Mothers

Akari glanced at Noel, who was leaning against the window frame, staring at the snow with an expression she usually saw. But today, it seemed more intense than usual. Pensive, troubled, and weighed down by unseen burdens.

She walked over, ears twitching, and gave him a gentle nudge with her head. "Noel, why don’t we go somewhere quiet? Somewhere we can talk? Just the two of us."

He turned, meeting her eyes, and nodded slowly. "Yes… somewhere private would be good."

She led the way back to their room, their footsteps muted on the thick rugs they had laid down. The door closed behind them with a soft click, shutting out the lingering chatter and laughter outside.

Their once cold room was now modest but cozy: a small wooden table, two chairs, a lamp flickering in the corner, and a neatly made bed pushed against the far wall. Akari gestured for Noel to sit.

Noel sank into the chair, fingers wrapped loosely around a warm mug of ale he had brought with him. He took a slow breath, as if collecting the courage to share something long buried.

"Akari… my mother," he began, voice quiet, measured, "people speak of her as a hero in the north. They praise her bravery, her skill with spirits, and her dedication to the north. But… the truth, as far as I see it, is different. To me… she is a terrible person and mother."

Akari’s ears twitched in concern, and she leaned closer slightly, silently urging him to continue.

"She is the first wife of my father from the noble Velrath family," Noel continued. "It was a political marriage. She had the skill with spirits that my father lacked, and she was expected to bolster my father's family influence as the heir. I was the only child from that marriage, the second son overall. My father took in a second wife, claiming my mother was infertile. That left me under her constant scrutiny, driven to be better than all my siblings, though I was never enough."

He paused, taking a sip of his ale, eyes growing distant. "The pressure became unbearable. I… I had a breakdown and lashed out at her. After that, she left me alone, stopped raising me to let me do anything I wanted. But that didn’t erase the bitterness and the resentment. As soon as she saw her mistakes, she just threw me away. I cannot see her in the light everyone else does."

Akari moved closer, brushing her tail gently against his arms. "That sounds… incredibly difficult, Noel. No one should have to carry that much alone."

He let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "Hero, they say. Great mother, they say. All I remember is fear, expectation, and the weight of her approval that I could never earn."

The fox’s ears flattened briefly, her mind racing to find the right words. She gently rested her paw near his hand, offering a physical comfort alongside her presence.

"Noel… I understand. That kind of pressure from adults at a young age… it changes you, and it’s not fair. But… you’re not alone here anymore! Like Lysandra said, being here is a kind of freedom. You’ve also survived so far, and you’ve built bonds you can rely on."

Noel shifted slightly, eyes narrowing. "What about you, Akari? You’ve spoken so little of your own past. Your mother… was she like mine?" He didn’t press, but the question lingered, tentative.

Akari’s ears perked, and she smiled softly, reminiscing. "My mother… she wasn’t perfect, but she tried. She taught me to notice the small things, to care for those around me, and to protect and cherish what matters! She made me feel safe, even though it was just her and me. She loved me in the ways she knew how, and..."

Noel listened quietly, his gaze softening as he absorbed the contrast. Akari's stories were mundane, warm, and personal. They were so different from the cold perfection and impossible expectations he had known. Yet he felt an odd comfort in her words. That there was a recognition that he could find his own way forward, even if he could not reconcile with his mother.

Akari continued, sensing the pause in his thoughts. "Even if your mother was harsh, you’ve grown stronger and smarter… and you’ve found people who care. Like me! You don’t have to carry that alone anymore."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Noel’s lips, almost imperceptible, but genuine. He let out a slow breath, feeling some of the weight ease. "Perhaps… there is merit to what you say. Though it’s strange to hear hope in the middle of a the current situation we find ourselves in."

Akari tilted her head, teasing lightly. "You’ve survived worse storms than any winter north of here. And besides… isn’t it strange how sometimes a fox can outwit a noble?"

Noel’s lips twitched, a laugh escaping him that was small but unguarded. "I suppose you have a point. And perhaps I do need a reminder that not everything is carried alone."

They sat in silence for a moment, letting the quiet of the room and the faint crackle of the lamp fill the space. The shared understanding, the soft trust, wrapped around them like a warm blanket against the winter cold. Noel sipped his drink once more, lost in thought, but not alone this time.

Akari nudged him gently, her ears flicking with concern. "You okay now?" she asked softly.

He didn’t look at her immediately, staring at the amber liquid in his mug. After a long moment, he muttered in a small voice, "A little."

The single word was quiet, but it carried the weight of everything he had shared - and she didn’t need more to understand. She stayed close, silent and supportive, offering him the comfort of presence without forcing words.

The night outside deepened, snow continuing its soft descent, but inside, the warmth of trust and shared understanding had strengthened. In the small room, away from the fortress and the pub, Noel and Akari’s bond had deepened, ready to face the challenges the northern wilderness and corrupted spirits would bring next.