06-05-2015, 10:06 PM
We are at war. There will be scars.
Erebor does not know what it is like to give everything to the Chamber because he has never known anything else. To him, sacrifice for your home is simply part of life. He skipped the selfish period of childhood, where the primary focus is inward, on himself, on the wants and needs of a growing boy. He'd skipped over it completely, born as close to an adult in a child's body as it is possible to get.But there are some things that cannot be learned other than through experience, and heartbreak is the first on that great and terrible list. The boy has never given his heart to anyone but the Chamber, and so he does not know what it is to have that heart ripped and shattered. The Chamber may be a cruel mistress, but only rarely does it take your heart. There are notable exceptions, of course; giving your heart to the Chamber does seem to run in his family. His grandfather's heart beats beneath their feet, a reminder of that very fact. His mother and other grandfather have done it too, although their sacrifice is not quite so tangible.
And so it is that he doesn't know this stranger who appears in the middle of their kingdom. She smells strange, but she smells more or less like nowhere, and she has a gaggle of children around her. It isn't long at all before his mother appears too, and his mother seems to recognize her instantly. Oksana – he's heard that name, and he flicks through his memories, trying to pluck out where from. Goodness knows he's pestered his mother for information enough that she might have mentioned it.
He comes up blank, but decides to approach anyway. He's come to learn that he's welcome in most any conversation his mother is holding; she may have secrets from him, but if she does, she guards them well enough that he doesn't even suspect. Or perhaps he's simply too respectful to pry. Or perhaps all of the above.
"Mother." he greets, his voice flat and even, but with a hint of a question that only she would likely recognize. They've come to know each other well in the time since his birth. They had traveled to the Amazons and the Tundra together, and passed many hours talking together in this very spot, or walking as mother and son amongst the pine trees. He knew she'd know that he was curious and unwilling to pry, just as he could see that whomever this mare and her children were, they meant something to his mother.
He turns his attention back to the other mare and to the children. The oldest is not so different in age from himself, he suspects, although the youngest look quite a bit younger. "Oksana," he greets, his voice soft and gentle. Welcoming her doesn't feel like the right thing to do here, and so he decides to stick with something simple, something that can't go wrong. "I'm Erebor."
Erebor
Native Prince of the Chamber
warship x straia