Open Hate Dries Slower Than Paint

[Seersha Vorsky]

Kaden gave almost a smug grin to Bezine for gesturing to Caden. "Ah, see, 'e gets it, 'uh. Most o' it is fer feelin' alive. Or simply bein' alive ... but ah'll gladleh take Varangian wine. Stuff's priceless," Kaden murmured before looking back to the letter. His expression morphed into a frown as he read over it more. Tears welling in his eyes the longer he read. There was a moment, the briefest of moments, that he looked to Seersha after he finished reading the letter.

He lowered himself to grab a metal mug and some matches. Then he placed them on the bar unceremoniously. Without a word, he stuffed the paper into the mug, grab some matches, and with a single stroke of a match, dropped it in so flame could dance within the cup.

Seersha's eyes widened and she threw out her hands in disbelief. "You old sod! What're you doing? Those were some of my father's last words."

Kaden wiped his eyes. "Unfortunateleh, it's safeh tha' way."

"You couldn't have let me read it?"

"Nah, s'betteh this way."

"According to you!" Seersha almost cried as she said it. She rubbed her face in frustration, almost knocking her spectacles off her face in the process. "Why are you like this? You are so stubborn and thoughtless! You think you think but you're acting for yourself and so it's not really thought -- it's just survival, and it's only survival for you."

"It's no' it's survival fer yew... yer a Vorsky in an area where Vorsky's were murdered or chased off. Yer ..." he paused, watching the fire burn. "Yer also a Windeh, in an area where Windeh's 'ave been nothing but trouble. Besides, th'letteh was only fer mah eyes."

Seersha blinked and looked at Kaden. "I--"

Kaden held up a paw and wiped a tear. "Ah ain't dumb. Ah'm old. Stubborn. Foolish at times, but ah ain't dumb. Ah could see some o' the ways yew may've taken aftah me, but with 'ow defensive yew've been, 'specially over Vorskeh, who raised yew propeh. 'n yer concerns 'bout the letteh ... 'gates, even Bezine introducin' yew-- she wouldn't 'ave given that introduction tah a messengeh. Yer a Windeh. Yer mah daughteh ... the letteh just proved the last bits o' it."

Seersha looked down for a moment and then back up to Kaden. "And what's that mean to you?"

Kaden sighed. "Truthfulleh, ah don't know. Ah'm sorreh. Yew've lived a lifetime withou' meh but ah suppose knowin' of meh. Yer lucky Bridgeh took ya in ... but 'gates, ah don't even know who yer mothah was. No one told meh anythin' bout a kit... most I know or closest ah've 'ad to kits, are folks like this lass," he confessed, gesturing to Bezine. As he continued to speak, he limped his way to the door so he could put up a closed sign and lock the door. "Ah kin say this, ah'm glad yer alrigh' 'n yew deserved a peaceful life under 'is care ... but ah'm sorreh yer mothah didn't trust meh. Ah suppose she was righ' in tha'."

Seersha looked to her soft paws as Kaden began to limp his way back from the front door. "I've wanted to tell you how much I hate you, you know. For not being there. For not caring. For just ... being here and doing 'gates knows what getting yourself killed for others but not me. For not being there for Bridger in his last moments. You were a brother to him."

"'n 'e was one t'me too, but unfortunateleh, as 'e knows, wasn't safe. We wrote when we could ... but that's all we 'ad. 'n that was okay. Is funneh in a sad way: 'e used to tell me how proud 'e was of 'is eldest. Painter. Dancer. Didn't know it was yew," Kaden said with a chuckle and small smile. As he rounded the bar and returned behind it, he gave Seersha a nod. "Yer right to 'ate meh. Lot o' us folks were not good parents fer their kids ... but ah wish ah could've tried."

Seersha looked to the other beasts by her. She tapped her digits on the counter. "I want to hate you. I want to hate you so badly," she reiterated between grit teeth. "It should be so easy. In some ways, I do hate you. I really, really do. I had to hear all about you, too, but the good, the bad, the ugly, and the really ugly. All of it. But I still had to grow up an outsider among my own family. I still had to know you were supposed to be my father."

Kaden nodded. "Ah know ... ah know. Listen, ah want yerw to be able to let i' ou', 'uh? Yew deserve that much. Do yew beasts wan' anythin' to 'eat in the mean time? Ah 'ave leftovers ... seems there's a lot to catch up on ... fer all of yew."

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden watched the interaction between father and daughter, his heart going out to both of them for the anger and heartache they expressed. The older weasel was right, so many of his generation had not been good parents. Caden was not going to point it out to Seersha, but for all that she had suffered, it was likely better for her to have been raised a Vorsky than a Winder. Best allow her to come to that conclusion on her own, if she ever found her way to it. It had taken him settling into his own path in life far, far from the Imperium to realize he probably had been better off finding his own way rather than being raised by Sken. The beasts of that era in the Imperium were not known for the type of stability required to raise anybeast in a well-adjusted manner.

"Food sounds excellent." Caden swirled the wine in his glass before taking another sip. "There does seem to be quite a bit to catch up on." He turned to Seersha. "Everything you're feeling is healthy and normal, don't worry. Were my mother and father still alive, I'd have quite a few words for them. Those of us with complicated pasts don't get the luxury of a simple relationship with our parents. Or any relationship at all, for that matter."

Taking another swallow of wine, he quirked an eyebrow at the young jill. "So we're all here for you to say your piece in as many words as you'd want to say it. You deserve that much."

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine's relief at how well Seersha and Kaden handled clearing the air between them was tinged with an aftertaste of guilt not unlike that of the bitter wine as both Kaden and Caden voiced an uncomfortable truth about parenting in their generation. She tried to cover it with another sip of the wine, finding it only mildly more palatable. She'd had plenty of nights spent lying awake in bed, wondering if she'd been a terrible mother to Morgan. She hadn't been the best mother, she could acknowledge freely; Eirene was far more compassionate than she, infinitely more patient and forgiving. Of course, she'd also wanted to be a mother. Bezine had never once told Morgan that she hadn't wanted to adopt the kit, but she was sure that Morgan knew anyway. Kits were perceptive that way. She remembered being that young and remembered seeing the same in Kaden's eyes, that desire to push her away fighting with a sense of obligation to care for the young orphan. And look how we screwed up our kits.

Bezine blinked away the barest beginning of tears, hoping that the bitter wine would be sufficient cover for the slip in her carefree mask. "SÌ," she confirmed, shooting a supportive smile at Seersha. "Non will be easy, but zat is okay - ze 'ardest zings to say are ze most important." She gestured with her glass between herself and Caden, adding, "Non matter what, we are family to you, okay? And 'opefully questo testone," she added, gesturing toward Kaden. He'd done far better than she'd anticipated with the news, probably better than she would have done in his role. She couldn't decide who she envied the least; Kaden for learning about all he'd missed twenty-six years too late, Seersha's mother for the surprise she'd been left with by a negligent partner, or Seersha herself for all she had to cope with through no fault of her own.