Invitation to Dinner (Pt2)

At first it seemed as though none of the former Knights would have much to contribute for the moment, which was what Serilda expected. News like this was certainly a shock, and it would take time for them to recollect enough of their past work and review it with a scrutinizing eye to decide if anything added up to what she suspected. But then, Gren spoke up, referencing the events the night of Mythal’s birth, with him and Branwen being sent to stop the ritual. The man commented about how there had been a number of instances where it seemed as though the Council had solutions just happen to fall into their laps. At the time, they hadn’t thought much of it, but now, with such suspicions voiced out loud to get them thinking…

Gren asked for time to dig up some of his old files and to go over his memories of his time in the Knights. It seemed that he had made his own copies of some of his cases, which seemed to both surprise and annoy Branwen. Aster smirked. Serilda narrowed her eyes a little, but frankly it was to their benefit. “While I certainly don’t condone that… it’s probably for the best. A large majority of the archives were burned and destroyed in the attack. Another thing that I find… convenient.” Serilda often wondered these days what files had been targeted. Perhaps some of it was with what Gren had copies of. “Whatever you have left, I would appreciate you taking a look through it. If there is a way to safely get copies to me, I can help you.”

It was about all any of them felt safe discussing for the moment. There were a lot of other things that they needed to discuss, but much had already weighed heavy on their minds that night and it would take time to digest things before they could really continue with any of it. Most everything else were things that either did not yet need to be said, or needed to be said in private. So as uneasy as it probably was to do so, eventually the lot of them elected to relax a bit and just enjoy one another’s company. Or at least, as much as they could with the mild, lingering tension from Gren’s resurfacing that wasn’t likely to go away for a time.

Still, as the night went on it got a little easier. Serilda and Mythal talked a bit about how they met, at Gren’s request. Naturally, now that he had the chance to catch up with his son and get to know Serilda in a more open environment, he had questions. While they left out some of the more intimate details of some of the things that had happened during the rather rough start to their relationship, the two of them openly teased about how much they had disliked one another in the beginning and how much work it had taken to reach a place of understanding and affection for one another.

That, in turn, had led into a number of similar memories of Branwen and Aster’s younger days. Serilda was shaken to the core by a number of her mentor’s stories from back when she was quite the renegade, her entire image of the stern and collected woman crashing down around her ears. The blonde had been more than a little bit of a trouble maker, wanted for crimes not just in Fiore, but also in Minstrel, Seven, Bosco, and even Ca-Elum. She was even more surprised to learn that her parents knew about Aster’s past when they elected her to train Serilda. Not just knew, but had been a part of it -- it seemed the job where Branwen had finally caught up to Aster and married her had been an attempted robbery on a caravan of Sinclair gems.

Eventually, it was time to call it a night, however. Thanking the couple for their hospitality, Serilda bid goodnight to Aster and Branwen, letting them know that she would be in touch soon to try and set up another time and place for all of them to meet in a safe place where they could come together with their findings. Given that Gren had elected to walk outside with them, they waited to say their goodbyes to him until they were out of earshot of the Franes. He probably figured that either or both of them would want the chance to speak to him privately before they parted ways, and at least on Serilda’s end he would be correct.

She gave appropriate time and silence for the two men to work out their farewells in whatever manner it would befall them. Most of which would depend on however Mythal was feeling about everything by this point in the night. When it was time, however, she turned to the darkness mage. “Leave the portal open, please,” Serilda asked him in a gentle but meaningful tone. “I’ll be right behind you.”

While others might have considered her presumptuous, Serilda knew that Mythal would understand. All of this had started with Gren tricking Serilda, seeking her out in private and throwing her off her guard and into a mild state of panic. While she could easily surmise the reasons, now, that he had chosen to do so, they still needed to clear the air about that confrontation if there was going to be any trust between them in the future.

Assuming that Mythal elected to give her that chance, which she highly doubted he wouldn’t, she would give his hand a silent squeeze of appreciation. Serilda signaled for Xiuhcoatl to follow Mythal and her brother, giving the affectionate wolf a chance to beg a few pets from Gren beforehand.

Once they were alone, there was a long moment of silence as Serilda’s pale blue gaze simply rested on Gren with a stern and unreadable expression. Finally, she said, “I trust you understand that I am still angry with you?” Despite the words, the noblewoman did not deliver the statement harshly. It was just a chance to be openly honest, one that invited him, if he wished, to explain his actions back on that day in Ace of Spades.

It was a rather awkward goodbye between the two men, in which Gren finally took the chance to pull his adoptive son into a hug. At first, Serilda wasn’t sure if Mythal was going to be open to the gesture. Father or no, Mythal wasn’t exactly the most physical of people at the best of times, and while she knew there was a willingness on his part to repair this bridge, she wasn’t sure that he was necessarily ready to embrace the man yet. The gesture seemed to break through a barrier, though, and soon the darkness mage was hugging his teary eyed father back.

As Serilda had hoped, Mythal understood and didn’t question the purpose behind his lover’s request. Ushering the dogs through the portal, he left the two alone. She voiced her opening comment to Gren, who smiled softly before admitting that he expected nothing less. She listened intently as he explained the reasons behind why he had approached her that day. He had been monitoring his son long enough to know that it was out of place for Mythal to be spending so much time with someone, seemingly overnight. It was an encounter that he readily admitted he could have handled better, but he had deemed it important enough that he had supposedly disobeyed orders from his current superiors about staying away from them.

Then, his gaze and his tone hardened, ready to deliver a few more truths to her. Gren opened right away with admitting that he did not trust her, at least not completely. Serilda did not make an attempt to hide her offense over the words, her gaze narrowing and her posture straightening ever so slightly as if he had just insulted her entire family name to her face. He didn’t trust her? He was the one who had been skulking in the shadows all this time, hiding from his son and his friends, putting her and Mythal in danger by ignoring orders to interact with her, lying about who he truly was. All this while Serilda had been busy bending her own life in two to keep Mythal from sinking into darkness, risking her life to protect his, facing and defeating her deepest fears and anxieties to make a life with him despite all the dangers she would expose herself to because of it. And here he was trying to tell her that he didn’t even want them dating?

But as Gren continued to speak, her offense softened. As angry as she wanted to be about it -- and she was angry -- Serilda knew that pride was not something that was viable here. Mythal had a horrific history, one that they both had saved him from, now. Gren and Serilda both knew the terrifying truth about it, and it had made them both wary about everyone else in Mythal’s life. She couldn’t fault him for acting exactly how she would in his shoes. Or well, almost exactly. There were certainly exceptions that Serilda would never have allowed for, but generally, she understood. He knew the truth about Mythal’s origins, had been there at the beginning of it all, and then later some random woman comes into his life and manages to turn it around? Serilda probably would have been suspicious too.

And in the end, he admitted that he didn’t have the authority to forbid their relationship. Mythal trusted her, and even Gren had to admit that she had been a positive influence on his son’s life in a way that he himself had never been given the chance to provide. Really, his biggest issue was just that he didn’t know everything about her, that there were missing pieces of the puzzle he’d crafted of her in his mind that kept him from seeing very important things about who she really was.

It took her a while to say anything as she processed his words until finally a gentle sigh drifted from her nostrils. “I appreciate the honesty. I know you’re just trying to look out for him as best as you can, and I can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same in your shoes. I can’t…” Her voice caught in her throat as it almost always did whenever this subject was brought up. “I can’t have children… but if I could, I know that I would do everything I could to protect them, and I won’t blame you for doing the same. Especially with everything we both know about the gravity of Mythal’s very existence…”

“And if we’re being honest, the reasons that I do not trust you are similar. Not only do I know next to nothing about you aside from what Mythal told me of his younger years, but you went out of your way to find me and to lie to me. And to top it off, you’re working with some group that seems to think they have the right to any knowledge about my life, or Mythal’s.” Her eyes hardened again, though more so at the knowledge of Gren’s benefactors than at the man himself. His words made it exceptionally clear that these people had been monitoring her without her knowledge or consent, and she was not okay with it.

“I don’t know who these people are, but I will not tolerate them, or anyone, spying on our life. I don’t care if they think or claim that their aims are altruistic. If they cannot work with us openly, and feel the need to invade our privacy, then they will be treated with hostility. I will not stand idly by why they study him like some lab rat. He has been through enough. We have been through enough. And as long as they continue to behave in this manner, I guarantee that you will not be reassured about me because I will continue to keep my cards and my secrets closely guarded from those who insist on behaving like enemies."

“When I defeated Archimedes, I left him with a message of open war against Faera. I know that she will make another move, and when she does I will show no quarter to her, her angels, or anyone else that appears to be in my way.” And there it was. Gren she could work with. He was Mythal’s father, for better or worse, and Serilda did not have to question how genuinely he cared for his son and what lengths he would go to in order to keep him safe. But the people he worked for were enemies as far as Serilda was concerned, and though she didn’t say as much, that was a very concerning position for them to be in. If he wanted to be assuaged of his fears and uncertainties regarding her, she needed the same from those he worked with.

Perhaps it was all the cumulative emotions from the night, and from really all the recent events, but for once she wasn’t as great at keeping her emotions reigned in as she usually was. Or maybe, she simply didn’t care to in this instance. Her eyes were bright with a very real, very passionate hatred toward Faera, and it was not the kind of anger that blinded someone. No, it was a deep seeded rage that granted her focus and clarity on her enemy. Serilda knew what she was up against, and not only did it no longer scare her, but it made her all the more dangerous.

Realizing that she was tight with anger, Serilda blinked and looked away momentarily, focusing on trying to calm herself. Tears started to drip from her eyes and she stubbornly wiped them away, doing her best to maintain her composure in the face of finally confronting everything that had been steadily building up for months. And there was yet more that needed to be said, thoughts that she had really only been able to speak to herself all this time.

“When you left that day,” she started, her voice quiet, “I called Mythal in a panic because I thought you were working for Faera, someone who was trying to use me to get at him. Mythal had never told me much about you. I mean… he told me that you had saved him as an infant, that you had taken him in as a son, and that you had died in a fire that Mythal started when Faera had tried to overpower him. I knew how deeply you loved him, because I could see how greatly he missed you. He blamed himself for your death for so long, and had been carrying that weight and responsibility alone, never talking about it with anyone before me. But that was really all I knew about you. I didn’t know what you looked like, what your interests were… the type of man that you were.”

Her eyes continued to leak, evidence of the dam that was building up behind them. She was putting so much effort in trying to keep them back so she could speak clearly that Serilda was practically trembling from it. Fixing her gaze on him once more, she went on. “When he realized who I had talked to in that park, it almost destroyed him. He had spent the better part of his life believing that he had killed the only person who had ever loved him, only to be met with the reality that you may have been alive all that time and actively avoiding him.”

“And I felt like shit,” Serilda told him, the tears now finally pouring from her eyes in earnest as she got to the heart of what had really been bothering her all this time. “I had no idea what I was telling him when I called him. Mythal was able to put the pieces together immediately, but I didn’t know. You put me in a position of bringing his entire life to a screeching halt, of making him doubt everything he ever believed about the man that cared about him enough to call him son, of being the one to single handedly shatter his confidence and his happiness, when I didn’t even know what I was saying.”

She was fully broken down into quiet sobs now, her face down cast as she tried to wipe her face off with trembling hands. In a broken voice, she said, “That should not have come from me. That news should have come from someone who understood the gravity of what was going on, someone who knew the truth of who you were and could reveal it to him more appropriately. Not from someone speaking in a place of ignorance and panic…”

She must have made a face when he started chuckling, as Gren lifted a hand quickly to stay her from thinking that he was entertained by her fervor. Instead, he explained that Serilda was apparently reminding him of another noble woman he had spent some romantic time with, out of Bellum. Apparently, this Themesycia was the first woman he’d ever fallen in love with, and it seemed that Serilda shared a number of traits with her when it came to being strong willed and unwavering in her convictions. It was intended to be a compliment, obviously, as even at the end he jokingly remarked about how similar Mythal’s tastes in women appeared to be to his own.

Serilda did smirk a bit, despite herself. Unfortunately, her mind was already preoccupied with the other thoughts she needed to get out of her head, and before she knew it she was openly, if quietly, weeping in front of the man. Ever since that meeting, no matter how much Mythal had told her not to, she had beat herself up over being the one to do that to him. For months she had felt responsible for his torment. And of course, at the time Serilda hadn’t realized what was really bothering him, about how he had realized his feelings for her and it had terrified him to his core… but without that knowledge, the only thing she’d been able to assume was that he’d been harboring resentment toward her for what had happened with Gren.

And it seemed that Gren understood the gravity of what she was trying to tell him. He became crestfallen, his eyes and head both dropping in sorrow at her words and her tears. He apologized to her, expressing his regret over having to handle it like he did, knowing that he had put Serilda in a place of compromise when all she’d done was try to do right by his boy. That being said, however, he affirmed that there was no one better suited, including Branwen. Serilda did her best to try to stifle her tears as she listened, wiping the moisture away in an attempt to process what he could have meant by there being a “hesitancy” between Mythal and his honorary uncle.

He ended his comments on a humble ground, admitting what even Serilda had been too worked up to say: That he should have revealed his return to life to Mythal himself. It was one of the many other things that had bothered her about their meeting. If he was going to risk disobeying his orders, why risk it to speak with her? If his goal had been to alert Mythal of his presence, why not go to him directly and bypass a helpless middlewoman who didn’t know what was going on? It was unfair, and Gren called it such.

A long silence passed between them, but somehow, despite the lingering sorrow, the tension in the air did seem to have eased. It was good to get everything off their chests, after all this time. And in her heart, Serilda wanted to trust Gren, and to like him. In a strange way, she owed almost everything good in her recent life to this man, because he had saved Mythal as a baby and given him the chance to grow into the man she would eventually want to spend the rest of her life with. In fact, there had been a number of times during the early days of the two of them dating, back before they were willing to admit that they were doing so, where she’d greatly wished that he had family that she could meet. Now that she did have that chance, a part of her couldn’t help but be grateful for it, no matter how roughly it had started.

But it was still a somber moment for the two of them to finally speak freely with one another. No matter how upset she was with Gren, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling compassion at the pain in his gaze over what she’d told him, and how he wished things had gone. “You know as well as I do that he has a difficult time expressing himself,” Serilda said gently, still sniffling but calmer than she was before. “He’s angry… but I know that more than anything else, he’s happy that you’re alive. All he ever wanted was the chance to go back and fix what he felt he’d been responsible for, which he could never do. But you’re here now, and in the end that’s what’s going to matter to him. He just needs time to work through it himself… and to get used to you being around again.”

She offered him a small, but genuine smile of encouragement. Serilda could only imagine how difficult this was for Gren, who probably -- and rightfully -- felt like everyone he cared for was viewing him with wariness and suspicion. It was going to take some effort to get there, but above everything Serilda hoped that they would all reach a place where this could be far behind them, someday, for Mythal’s sake. And while Serilda was not yet willing to reveal certain things about herself that could be dangerous information to take back to this group that Gren worked for, she did want to ease his worries as a parent. How could she not?

Her voice and tears finally under control, she softly asked him, “I’m sure you looked into me enough to know that I was married once before?” Assuming he confirmed this, she took a breath and continued. This was a very difficult story for her to tell, moreso even than admitting she couldn’t have children, but the noblewoman felt compelled to do so. She didn’t want to speak of it in front of Aster or Branwen, not before she’d gotten the chance to figure out how to tell her parents…

...but she could, and would, tell Mythal’s father about it, privately. “The day that Archimedes approached Mythal? When we were at my house? Mythal had been… taking care of me. We had barely talked for weeks. Maybe even a couple months. I don’t really remember, because the whole time was just… such a blur of emotion and pain. He’d been pushing me away, and I didn’t know why. At the time, I had assumed he was holding resentment toward me for telling him about you. He wasn’t, but… I didn’t know what else to think because he wasn’t talking to me.”

Hugging herself a bit insecurely, Serilda continued. “It was during that time I started to learn some concerning things about my husband that had died a few years ago. I won’t overwhelm you with the details, but eventually I got testimony and proof that he had been cheating on me through the whole marriage, and only married me to make it easier for him to steal from my family.”

“But even with the proof and the word of someone that I trusted implicitly, it still wasn’t enough for me. I went to Agatha, Ruzatz’s wife -- I didn’t know they were married at the time -- and, against my fears and my better judgment, asked her to summon his spirit for me to speak with.” There was a numbness as Serilda spoke, now. The words rolled off her tongue with surprising ease, but it felt like someone else was speaking them. “She warned me that the dead couldn’t hide their true natures… and he didn’t. He made it very clear that he never loved me, and mocked me for my blind devotion to him all that time.”

“The last thing he said to me, before I ran away like a coward, was that I wasn’t worth the effort it would take for anyone to want me for anything more than entertainment.” Hopefully, her use of the word would make it clear, in less graphic terms, what Hugo had actually told her. “It hit too close to home, after the way Mythal had been acting. I went home and trashed the place before turning to a few bottles of wine for an escape.”

There was shame on her face now, but she carried on, wanting to get to the heart of the story even if it meant humiliating herself in front of him. “When Mythal found me, he said I was face down on the ground in a puddle of wine, dangerously inebriated to the point of unconsciousness. He cleaned me up and took care of me the whole night, even fixed up what he could of the things I’d broken in my house. When I woke up, sick and hungover, he looked after me and got me to talk about what had happened. I don’t remember much from that night, but I do remember him promising that he wasn’t going to leave, that he would still be there in the morning to talk when I was more sobered up.”

“And then when I woke, he was gone. All that was left was his note, where he told me that the reason he’d been pushing me away was because he’d realized he loved me, and that knowledge had terrified him. The way he wrote it… I knew in my heart that wherever he’d gone, he didn’t expect to come back. I knew that Faera had found a way to get to him, and that he had left because he didn’t want to risk my life.”

Making sure to hold Gren’s gaze with a soft, but passionate, expression, Serilda told him. “I had known for a long time at that point that I loved Mythal… but I didn’t realize how much until that morning, after everything that had happened to build up to that moment. I know you have your reasons to not trust me. I know that you are wary of the things you don’t know about me. That’s fine. I want you to know me… once we can find a way to address all our concerns on a fair and even playing field.”

“But for now, from a woman to a father… I just hope you to trust that I would never willingly do anything to jeopardize any part of Mythal’s life. I would rather die by his side in this war than spend a day without him in mine. If nothing else, I hope you understand that about me.” As she looked at him, gone was the anger and frustration, instead replaced with the look of a woman who, no matter their differences, did earnestly want the approval of the father of the man she loved. Maybe she couldn’t have that now… he had already said as much to her before, that he would have put a stop to them dating if he could. As angry as it had made her, it also hurt to hear. But when push came to shove, even in light of all this, all she wanted was for this to lead to a place where they could have understanding of one another.

A place where maybe she could have the same kind of bond with Gren that Mythal had with her parents.

She had hoped her words would encourage him a bit, and it seemed to do so. Or maybe he didn’t actually need the encouragement. With a smile, Gren told her about the time that he’d had to finally reveal the truth to Mythal about his heritage, or at least parts of it that were appropriate for that age. He didn’t get into anything about Faera or Kingdom Darkness, of course, but he had wound up having to admit that he wasn’t his real father, and that his birth mother had more or less abandoned him. It had been a rough thing for a child to hear, and Gren said that Mythal had taken it so hard that he almost seemed to shut down.

And that had been awful on Gren. He had been terrified that Mythal would reject him after that, that their relationship would change and the boy would no longer view him as a father figure. But yet, it seemed that Mythal had come back when Gren needed him most, acting for all the world like it was Gren who’d had his life turned upside down, hugging him and comforting him, and still calling him ‘dad’. That was the moment that Gren had known there was more to Mythal than just the magic and divine spark that Faera had created him for. There was also a strength in his will and spirit that was equally as desirable, one that would not blanche in the face of persecution.

It wasn’t an easy story for him to tell, tears falling from his own eyes. Serilda watched him silently, attentively, wishing she had some tissues of some kind to offer. But frankly, she hadn’t expected this conversation to involve tears -- for either of them. She figured it would be a crisp, quick, confrontation to acknowledge certain things that needed to be said. She figured she’d be angrier than she currently was. But the walls seemed to be melting away quicker than either of them had anticipated.

He admitted how scared he’d been to come here tonight, to finally face his son. He’d been so anxious about it that he’d been shaking, hoping and praying that he’d be given some kind of chance. Serilda said nothing as he took the time he needed to cry, getting it out of his system and taking a moment to compose himself. In the end, he said that it was enough for him that Mythal didn’t slam the proverbial door in his face, and that he would wait as long as it took for Mythal to come back around.

They both needed a minute to get under control, it seemed. After that, Serilda had poured her more heartfelt story for him, hoping to find some ground on which they could connect to work toward a better future. Apparently, it had been more effective than either one of them had been prepared for. All she had asked for, all she had really wanted, was just a platform for them both to move forward on, a place for them to build trust on in the future.

Instead, he smiled and closed the distance between them to gently set his hands on her shoulders. It was a bold move, given her status as a noble, but right now Serilda wasn’t acting as a noblewoman. She made no effort to stop him or distance him from her. If anything, she needed it. He commented about her ability to not just turn Mythal’s life around, but also to apparently get Gren’s head out of his ass, so to speak. Serilda chuckled weakly with him, her voice still a bit broken from all the crying and the overwhelming emotions the two of them had gone through in the last five minutes.

As he told her that he’d been wrong, expressing his affirmation that he now truly believed that she had been the reason Mythal had never fully fallen to the darkness, Serilda couldn’t stop moisture from building in her eyes again. She didn’t break into sobs like before, but a few tears managed to leak their way out as he assured her that he would never again doubt her intentions with his son. The smile on her face was small and exhausted from the crying, but warm as she reached up one of her arms and put her hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze of assurance. “Thank you,” she whispered.

They stood there for a moment, finally finding their place, before Gren stepped back and withdrew something from his robes. It was a pendant of sorts in the shape of a lightning bolt, which she took with a gentle hand. Its purpose, he explained, was exactly like the bauble that they had used to summon him tonight, but more permanent. It was not meant to break, and was instead for multiple uses for any time that they wanted to see him, whether for business or just socializing. As long as he wasn’t in the middle of anything else more pressing, he assured her that he would come, adding that he was greatly interested in getting to know her as Mythal’s father, and not as an agent for his organization.

She nodded and wrapped her fingers around it, holding it tightly like she was afraid she might lose something precious. “I’d like that,” Serilda told him with a smile. “Like I said, Mythal may need time… or maybe he won’t. I don’t think he’ll know until I go back and speak with him, and let him get his thoughts out of his head. But I’ll give this to him, and I know he’ll be sure to use it. When he is ready, you can come over to either of our homes as often as you like, and make up for that lost time.”

As if speaking about it had reminded her of how long they had been talking, her pale gaze glanced at the waiting portal. “I should probably go check on him.” She turned to look back at him. “Thank you, again. I’m glad we got the chance to talk. Openly, this time.” A small smirk tugged on her lips, her attempt at putting their first meeting behind them with a bit of humor. “Whatever documents you’re able to dig up to forward me, I trust you’ll find a way to get it to me safely. I’ll wait until I hear something from you. And… you can just call me Serilda, now.”

It felt wrong to expect the father of the man she loved to address her by her title, not when they’d shed tears together and found a place of understanding with one another. After a moment of hesitancy, not knowing if he would be open to it, she cautiously stepped forward to offer a hug. If he accepted, she would wrap her arms around his waist and give him a firm, if somewhat trembling, embrace, holding it long enough for either of them to feel like it was enough to assuage all the emotions and tears that had just passed between them before letting go. “Have a good night,” she’d tell him with a small smile before finally stepping through the open portal, which disappeared behind her.

When she came through the other side of the portal, Serilda found herself at Mythal’s place. Her eyes, still puffy and red from crying, found him almost immediately sitting on the couch nearby. The Voidwalker moved over and sat down next to him, taking one of his hands in hers. She didn’t say anything, knowing that he would speak his mind when he was ready. Instead, her free hand rose to slowly and gently run her nails through his hair.

“It was,” Serilda admitted when he finally turned up to look at her and saw her face. “On both sides.” Mythal seemed to relax a bit under her touch, as he always did. Or at least, the gesture of her fingers through his hair always seemed to soothe him when his mind was racing. He stared ahead of him in silence, and she did nothing to spur him into conversation, knowing that he would talk when he was ready to. She was content to just remind him that she was there in the meantime.

After a minute or so, he started talking about how long it had been since he’d seen Gren. Like herself, there was a lot of anger there -- probably more than she had been experiencing -- but also a lot of relief. Mythal wasn’t happy about the fact that his father had been back all this time and dealing in secret with whatever shady organization felt it was appropriate to watch them. But, he was thankful that Gren had been given a second chance at life. It was about what she’d expected from him, though sometimes saying it out loud made it easier to deal with.

She smiled softly when he looked back at her. “Yeah, I’m okay. It was… a good talk. Better than I expected it to go. I figured I was just going to rail into him for lying to me and for hiding from you all this time, for approaching me when he did instead of you…” Mythal knew well her thoughts on all of that, and how hard she had taken it on herself that Gren had chosen to show himself to a woman who didn’t even know who he was rather than to his own son.

“I think we both just needed to get things off our chest, and we did. More than either of us anticipated. He told me at first that, as much as he’s thankful for the stability I’ve brought you, that he didn’t even want us dating because he is essentially scared of the things he doesn’t know about me. Of course, he admitted right after that he didn’t get a say in it. He was just being honest about his thoughts and concerns.”

Serilda leaned back against the couch and pulled him down gently so she could rest his head on her chest. Her fingers still stroked his hair slowly. She was quiet for a minute, gathering her thoughts. “He apologized for lying to me. He also told me about the night that he had told you the truth about him not being your dad… He was pretty terrified to see you tonight, cause he didn’t know if you were going to tell him to permanently shut the door in his face. Both of us were crying by the end of it. I told him you were just going to need some time to get yourself sorted out.”

There was another pause before she continued, in a more quiet tone. “I also told him about Hugo, and everything that happened the day Archimedes found you. I don’t really know why I did. I think I just… wanted him to understand how much you mean to me. It hurt to hear that he didn’t trust me after everything we’ve been through. I guess I moved him. Or as he put it, got a ‘stubborn old bastard to realize his head was up his ass’.” She smirked a little, hoping he would find some humor in that.

“I think he and I will be okay,” Serilda told him softly, resting her cheek on top of his head. “But that’s not as important as whether you and him will be okay. I know the whole night was… overwhelming. What are you thinking..?”

Serilda chuckled. “Trust me, I wanted to. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Angry as he may have made me, he’s still your dad. You deserve to punch him first.” She smirked at him teasingly.

Mythal didn’t seem too pleased at his father’s initial desire for them to stop dating, clinging to her hand a bit more firmly. He admitted that he had given serious consideration to telling Gren to sod off if he’d felt like he could go this long without being a part of his life anyway, but even Mythal’s anger could only keep root for so long. Whether he was happy to admit it or not, Gren was still his father, and he wouldn’t have been able to turn down the opportunity to have a life with him again, no matter how angry he was about the circumstances.

In the end, his thoughts seemed to fall about where Serilda had figured they would: That he did want to spent time with his father now that he had that chance. Not necessarily right away. It was still a process of him trying to accept that Gren truly was back, even after seeing him with his own eyes. That was understandable. It had been a fairly surreal interaction, even for her.

When he turned to look at her, he’d find her smirking from his dry humor, as she usually was. Mythal thanked her for staying to speak with Gren, explaining that while he knew she had personal reasons for doing so it still meant a lot to him that she’d made that effort. He admitted that it had always been hard on him knowing that she would never get to meet any of his family. Or well, his real family. Serilda was intimately familiar with his father at this point, and she could only assume after everything in Kingdom Darkness and Vintermyr that she would eventually run into his mother and sister, too. And Branwen was around, of course, but he’d never been as close to Mythal -- a statement that got Serilda thinking a bit about one of the things Gren had said to her.

Either way, he expressed his sorrow over how unfair he thought it was that he had been given so many opportunities to become a part of her family’s life, but she would never get the same experience. And now, he would have that chance to have his family back, and to fully have her be a part of it. Serilda smiled softly, overcome with emotion as she wrapped her arms around him to hold him tightly. “I’m glad you feel that way,” she told him quietly. “You know I’d support you in this situation whatever you choose, but… I think far more good will come from embracing the second chance than not. I want you to be happy, and to have a full life. Even if the circumstances surrounding it are… suspect… you do still have that chance, now. And I couldn’t be more grateful.”

Pulling her hand away from his, she reached into a pocket and pulled out the lightning shaped pendant that Gren had given her and placed it gently into his palm. “He gave this to me, and said it was for us to use whenever we wanted to see him. As long as he’s not otherwise preoccupied, he will come. And this one doesn’t break like the last one did. I told him you would probably need some time, but that he would be welcome at either home once you were ready to let him in.”