Dusk took a deep breath. Her conversation with Thistle played back through her mind - the wrongs she had done, and how far she had to go yet in making amends. "Maybe," she suggested, a bit meekly, "we co-parent her between us, as aunts to her. Give her some time with both her cousins, and her... cousin Alwyn." 'Gates, she did not want to have to explain this to any of her children.

Her mind took a moment, as preoccupied as it was, to catch up with what Tanya had said. "Oh? So you two really were together then," she teased, her tail flicking in amusement beside her on the seat. "By chance do I have any younger nieces and nephews to spoil rotten? I regret not taking the opportunity with Armina - not that she'd have taken so much as a bent fo' gilder from me. Suspicious as anything, that girl. That she was in the midst of a descent into violent paranoid schizophrenia likely didn't help."
 
"Mmmh; didn't much help for my part," Tanya sighed. "I wasn't doing so well by the end, myself. Bit of a family curse, I suppose." She took to bottle of wine and toyed with it, keen for something to occupy her paws. "Aunts it is. I'll work somethin' out and send you a gull ahead of her reaching the docks. She can stay with me a while unless you want to set her up with someplace to live."

Claws clinked against the glass and her brows lowered, the cogs turning in her mind. The vixen had much to consider, and that wasn't to speak of the grief simmering beneath it all. She was keen to deflect, and Dusk had provided the perfect avenue. "Me and ole Ironbum were...complicated," she admitted, the ghost of a smile on her muzzle. "We work well together; things made more sense the more distance we got from the Imperium. Some time after the twins we had two kits, aye. Kinza and Lorcan: they're why we ended up stickin' our snouts back in the city. Kinza's got tired of waitin' around and wants to see more of the world; her younger brother'd follow her to Hellgates if he thought there'd be a scrap. They'll do well out there, though it never gets easier lettin' them out into the world, does it?"

Tanya laughed softly, tilting the bottle in her paws. As she did so, the light from the ornate stained glass reflected, highlighting the dulled handle of the weapon at her sister's hip. Her gaze was drawn again, but this time it lingered. She was silent for a beat.

"How in 'Gates did you get those?"
 
Dusk glanced down at the daggers, silent for a moment herself as she sipped her wine. She was quiet before admitting, "There's a part I didn't tell you. While Armina was still an insane homicidal maniac, Kaden Winder and I tracked her down. She was too far gone, we thought, and needed to be stopped; she'd murdered dozens since her flight from the Hide, Khan most recently. We found her in the Kreehold; its leader was sheltering her as a weapon to unleash against the Imperium for his own ends. She was..." She shuddered at the memory. "I'm glad you weren't there to see her that way.

"She injured both of us pretty badly in the fight before she went down,"
she continued. "Kaden had to carry me out of there. I went back later, after I got out of the hospital, and found the Brushes. Armina's body was gone, which, I'll admit, was a little strange, but when she was found washed out to sea a week later, I figured a storm had passed through and she'd washed out through the drains. It wasn't until Talinn brought me into House Ryalor that I learned the full story." The corner of her mouth twitched as she added, "You'll have to ask him about how he brought me into his organization. That I ever married him after that stunt he pulled boggles even my mind. He still chokes and turns purple whenever I say the word 'pancakes'."

Notably not included in her explanation was an offer to return the Brushes to their original owner.
 
That deep sadness returned to her dark-ringed eyes, a thousand regrets swirling but just one memory replaying in her mind.

“So what happens now?”
“I dunno. I suppose that’s up t’ you. Y’ could come with me if you like.”
“Do you really mean it?”
“Oh, aye...Though I’d be disappointed in you if y’ did.”

Would taking her away have helped her? I had a break from reality; Kiptooth had been there. What if...?


She blinked hard, trying to close her ears to the image of Armina painted by her sister - even worse, the way she spoke of her body.

"Can't imagine it took so much to turn your paw to Misanthropy," Tox snorted, "but consider me curious. I'll need to have....words with Talinn, once he and the Hide return. There's much to discuss. You'n me have so much more to catch up on, too. Hope you don't mind me wishing it should be somewhere comfier than this though." A wink as she set the bottle back down and, in the same motion, extended her paw. "Come on, then: those were given to 'Mina after my death. Seein' as I'm very much still alive I'll be having at least one've those back."
 
Dusk hesitated, looking down at the brushes with clear longing in her eyes. She'd grown very accustomed to their weight, enjoying her possession of the fabled Last Quartermaster's signature weapons. Her paw hesitated in reaching, then pulled out both and set them on the desk, followed by the leather pocket protector. "Consider the sheath a gift." She gazed avariciously at the blades, small tears of envy beading at the corners of her eyes. She hated to give up anything, but she could hear Thistle's voice in her head, reminding her that making amends was painful and required humility and sacrifice. If this was the cost of having a sister again, well... I always preferred stilettos anyway.
 
Though she had demanded them back with all expectation to have her property returned, it came as some surprise to find that Dusk was so obliging. She’d half expected at least a joke, if not some minor resistance, and to be simply acquiesced to was, admittedly, a little unnerving. Was this a ploy? Dusk always had been so good at manipulation. As the vixen stared at the weapons she had almost forgotten the existence of, it struck her. Dusk was truly serious. This was as good a sign as any: she was willing to give whatever was necessary for the sake of Mina. Tentative a start though it was, it was promising; a small flutter of hope enough to pierce the weight of grief.

And they had so badly wanted to kill one another, once. How times change.

Slowly Tanya took up one of the brushes, finding the weight and balance of the weapon alarmingly familiar after decades apart. She stared at the dull blades, the blurred reflection of her own eyes, so much older than the last time, and slipped them into the sheath. “Tell you what, we’ll make it a bit fairer.” In unbuckling her belt to slip the sheath on, she unlaced one of the pouches it would be sitting beside. Upon the desk she placed two small packets of sturdy birch bark, unmarked and unlabelled. “Don’t ask me what it is, and ‘gates don’t let it get on your paws once it’s mixed with liquid. A sprinkle goes a long way.”

Before Dusk could reach for them, Tanya placed her paw gently atop her sister’s. “Thank you, Dusk. I mean it. Mina’s going to be alright if we’ve got anything to say about it, an’ I don’t think anything stands a chance if it’s got to stand against the both’ve us for once.”
 
Dusk's eyes widened at the small packets on the desk, her mind already surmising the contents. Her sister wasn't called 'Toxic Tanya' for nothing, after all. She looked up at Tanya, her eyes brimming with tears, and she turned her paw upwards to clasp her sister's. "Thank you, Tanya," she whispered. "Thank you. I know this isn't forgiveness yet, but... I hope it's at least family."
 
“Aye, family,” Tanya echoed. In her younger seasons it would never have crossed her mind that the bubbling resentment could ever be bridged between them. There was hope amidst the sorrow, but beneath it an undeniable curiosity stirred. Something had changed the vixen’s outlook, whether age or the birth of her own kits or a series of events she had not yet disclosed. Time would tell if she would be willing to share, but for now Tanya was content that the animosity between them was at least smoothed over. Her desire to reconnect with what little remained of blood family notwithstanding, even she knew it would be risky to provoke her sister. Against the full weight of the Ministry of Misanthropy, and herself little more than a ghost in the eyes of the city, she’d be dead in a ditch if Dusk truly wished it.

She gave her sister’s paw a squeeze. “Come on now, we’ve done enough crying over the years without bringing it on each other. She’ll be alright, and ‘gates willin’ maybe one day you can tell her who you are proper. I’ll need to talk to Jesh an’ give the kits some notice but if you’ve a crew ready to go I can be off with the tide in the morning.

“Now, I ain’t got much appetite left for surprises today but we might as well get as much out of the way, so I’m just going to ask. Khan: I’d just about forgotten that miserable old todd: what’s he got to do with anythin’? When'd you befriend him?”
 
Dusk's eyes watered, but she managed to compose herself a bit. "You would have been too small to remember him when he left," she said quietly. "That was for the Second Alkamarian War, I think. I barely remember it myself - most of what I remember of those days aren't great to be honest. Still, I recognized him right away. Even a few extra scars couldn't change that face too much." She met Tanya's gaze as she confessed, "He was our father, Tanya. That was why he came on the Hide. In his last years, he wanted to make it up to you. You and Armina both. He..." She blinked back tears as she admitted, "He didn't even recognize me. I'd dyed my fur, granted, but still, I was right there with him at the end, and he didn't know me at all. You, though... You were all he could think about."
 
The pit in her stomach which had lurched uncomfortably when first the old todd had been mentioned deepened almost immediately. It would – should – did – come as a shock, and yet on the back of so much news this day it seemed only fitting. The more she reflected the more it made sense. That she hadn’t ever twigged on to any similarities began to nag at her. How daft and wrapped up in her own problems she had been at the time. The city had done that, and by the looks it hadn’t changed.

“And yet for all the thinkin’ he couldn’t manage to say,” Tox replied with no small amount of venom which ebbed just as swiftly as it had come. “I never even knew. If I had…” She looked at her own paws, the tracery of scars across her knuckles. “I don’t know what I’d have done, actually. Depends on the day.” A shaky laugh slipped from her muzzle. “How in ‘Gates I survived as long as I did working in intelligence is a mystery considerin’ how much I missed.”

It had been decades, of course; there was nothing to be done. The vixen slumped back in her seat, shaking her head as the shock began to settle into numbness. “Ah, me. What a pair we are, eh? For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Dusk. I didn’t lose a father, not really, but you did. You didn't deserve it t' happen that way.”
 
Dusk sad back, shaking her head at she pressed at her eyes with the pad of her paw. "It's alright," she mumbled. "'Gates, I've had three decades to come to terms with it. I try to see the blessing in it, try to be better to my own kits than he was to us..." She laughed shakily, blinking away tears as she remarked, "And look where that landed me! My daughter could be dead, having never known her mother's face. 'Gates, Tanya, I feel just as messed up as he was." She shook her head before adding, "At least our kits have better fathers than we did, for what that's worth. I take it by the rumors of Ironclaw returning that he's come back with you?" A small, wry smile crossed her face. "I'm happy for you, truly. Nothing against Falun, rest his soul, but, well... You need someone who can give you a challenge."
 
A curious brow arched to think of what the rumours could entail, but Tanya nodded. The smile returned to her muzzle, even if the sadness lingered in her eyes. Whatever shock she was experiencing at this onslaught of news was going to take her some time to process: at least the poor todd in receipt of it knew how to handle her. Mostly.

“Aye, that ole troublemaker couldn’t keep away,” she chuckled. “This city’s a dirty, miserable mess but you know how it is once you’ve had some responsibility for her. Hard to keep our paws out though we’re trying to let the kits have their own adventures free of us meddlin’. Doesn’t stop us enjoyin’ ourselves though, eh?” She cocked her head to one side and sighed; Falun’s name was always a difficult one to bring up, even now. “You’re right. Fal might’ve been what I needed when I was a young’un but Jesh…is somethin’ completely different. Didn’t think I’d give my heart to another, but pirates always know how best to steal even when they reform.” It was certainly a bolder statement than she’d have admitted two decades past.

A wry expression crossed her face. “And what of you? Sounds like you’re having more’n a challenge right now. You’re certain you’re coping alright, or do me an’ you need to at least go out for some drinks to discuss it proper like old gossips?”
 
Dusk's eyes turned to sorrow, and she put one claw to the corner of her eye to carefully lift away a tear before flicking it away. "Honestly," she allowed, "a proper night of drinking sounds cathartic to me. Not where anyone could hear us, though; what caused the rift between myself and Talinn is... well, I can't risk it being spread around, for the sake of my family, my kits, and the Imperium as a whole." She sighed as she looked to the mostly-empty bottle of wine. "Sometimes," she mused, "I wonder if it would have been less painful for us to simply divorce. Oh, it would have been scandalous for sure, and I'm certain that much would have been made of it, but..." She shook her head. "You know me, Tanya, once I have my claws in something, or someone, I have trouble letting go. I suppose that after five kits together - granted, only four that he knows of - and some twenty years, that what we had would have meant something to him, but... Well, he made his choice. That I gave my assent, albeit after he made his decision, hardly makes the matter more bearable." She shook her head as she admitted, "I should have gotten back at him ages ago; I should have gone and found another todd, if only to spite him." She blushed slightly as she recalled the missed connection with Colonel Jere; the more vengeful part of her had considered going out and finding him, to make good on all her pain and fury in his arms, while another part of her was mortified in light of the confessions Talinn had shared in his last letter, just before he'd left for the far north.

"I'm sure you and Jeshal have had your rough moments as well," she remarked, "so you can understand. Sometimes it's those you've grown closest to who can hurt you like no other. Probably why I put it off for so many years."
 
Reflective concern settled on Tanya’s face as she listened to her sister speak. Pieces were beginning to fall into place despite the lack of context and she began to cotton on to the implicit story. If her emotions hadn’t already been shot from the revelations, it would have been fortunate for Talinn that he was away, for she would have been particularly interested to hear his side. Whatever messes herself and Jeshal had been through, she was certain it wasn’t to the level of complexity of Dusk and her husband. ‘Gates, this city really hadn’t changed.

That Talinn did not know of the fifth kit raised an eyebrow. There was so much more to this story than she could grasp in a single day, but she reasoned that there was no rush. Still it was worth the noting that Dusk wasn’t just asking for protection for Mina: she was buying her silence, also.

“Oh we have our moments,” Tanya replied, “but we started from hurt. An’ you’re right; right at the beginning he hurt me, so naturally I beat the daylights out’ve him. Felt better for it, but all the same I couldn’t get it out of my head how stupid I felt I’d been putting trust in another when work’s always been about knowing exactly who to be wary of. Turns out gettin’ drunk and talking things through adds some perspective.” Her tail twitched at the memory, somewhat embarrassed still of that night so long ago. “Now I ain’t saying it’ll fix anything for you, but you and Talinn ever actually stopped and talked about everything that’s gone on?”
 
Dusk took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled as Tanya asked the question she'd feared the most. "No," she admitted. "No, over ten years, I... I wasn't ready. I didn't want to hear what he had to say - and I suppose he wasn't quite ready to say it, either, in case I slammed the door in his face. Just before he left for the north, though, he dropped off a letter saying that he wanted to try again, that he was sorry for what happened, and..." And that I was the only thing he ever freely chose for himself. It was too precious a sentiment to voice; it hadn't been until she'd become a duchess that she'd appreciated just how much House Ryalor swallowed everything, turning everyone in it to tools for use toward its grand aims. That he'd chosen her for his own sake, not for the House or for honor or duty or any of that, stung with an intensity that threatened to loose a cascade of hot tears.

"Once he's back," she resolved, "we'll talk. Maybe, if things go well, I might tell him about Mina Rose, but..." She shook her head. "I don't know, Tanya. House Ryalor took four of my kits from me, turned them into little princes and princesses and destroyed their poor souls. Alwyn, Vulpuz preserve him, copes by chasing intimacy in the arms of any vixen with a pulse, Ameliya is a nervous wreck, Alexei is so deep in his family's shadows that sometimes I think that he forgets he's there, and I genuinely fear that Anastasia would kill us all for a shot at the throne if she thought it was viable. I don't want to drag Mina Rose into all that. I just want one daughter, one single kit, to grow up and be free. House Ryalor's taken all the rest from me; can't I just have this one kit just for me?" Her eyes were pleading as she looked to Tanya for validation.
 
Resting her elbows on the desk, chin in her paws, Tanya stared back at her sister. Today was a rare display of openness: her countenance was soft and eyes sad as she listened to the lives of her nephews and nieces.

“Your heart’s in the right place,” Tanya replied softly, “but don’t think of havin’ her for you: do it for her. Mina deserves to be free of the Ryalor influence so’s she can chase what matters to her, and we’ll do all in our power to make sure that means she can still choose to have you as her mother at the same time.”

Anger flashed through her gaze, then; something colder. “I can’t lie, Dusk, the Ryalors…The whole house, the system, it takes and it takes and it discards the lives of the young and for what? Power an’ influence are all well and good but what in ‘Gates is the point when all you’re passing on are the same troubles over and over? Falun was killed over it an’ probably the age of my younger ones now. Your kits’ve all been pulled around by it. No doubt Talinn’s been livin’ under the pressure of upholding the power of the house. Armina’s…” She inhaled sharply. “I always let the twins keep the name and connection to their father, but there’s good reason we made a life on Kutoroka where we could have easily had some power in Fyador. If Mina doesn’t want or need to be pulled into that life, it won’t happen.”
 
Dusk took a deep breath, her chest swelling with unexpected appreciation and gratitude as Tanya castigated House Ryalor for its avaricious nature. Her sister was completely correct: House Ryalor used up its members, its assets, as Uncle Alexei used to refer to the beasts in both its employ and its family tree, and left nothing behind. Mina had to be kept out of that machine at all cost, lest is chew her up and grind her into dust as well.

"You're right," Dusk admitted. "You were right to take the kits away, and you're right about Mina now. Maybe I'll find a way to tell her once she's here, to let her know the truth. I just don't want her to step into that gilded cage, not understanding that it's a trap. Once Talinn knows about her, once he understands that she's his daughter, he'll turn her into a princess, whether she wants it or not. He'd never accept anything less for his offspring. So, for now, no matter what, we keep this secret, alright? Once she's here, we can figure out how to tell her, or just let her believe that she's Valdrisk's daughter by some unknown vixen." She laughed a touch hysterically as she admitted, "'Gates, I'd rather have Talinn believe I was unfaithful to him and Mina Rose was a product of it than give her over to him, to the House." She sighed before adding, "Let's keep that a distant fourth plan, though. That is not a conversation I want to have unless strictly necessary."
 
Her tail began that rhythmic thump once again as the picture was painted. Individually Tanya had rarely taken issue with a single Ryalor, but as beast after beast disappeared, died or suffered for the House her resentment had grown. She didn’t envy her sister: having to consider family needs and the expectations of the House alongside Ministerial duty was a political and emotional tightrope to navigate.

“Talinn’d deserve to know his daughter exists same as she deserves to have her father, but I agree: I’m not letting him push her into danger with Ryalor House dreams. You’ve my silence as long as you need it, same as Mina has my protection. For what that’s worth, anyways,” she chuckled. “I’m only one vixen, now. Most of my contacts don’t seem to be alive any more after…well, you know better’n most what’s taken place since I left. ‘Gates it all feels so new and like I’d never even left. Probably for the best I take a trip to th’ Keys to process it a bit.” Her expression softened once again. “Mina..how much do you know of her outside of where she’s at? They ever told you what she’s like, what her interests are?”
 
Dusk's eyes widened slightly at the question, and tears started to well up again. "Oh, 'Gates," she murmured. She reached for a handkerchief in her desk drawer, using it to carefully daub at her eyes so as to not smudge her makeup. "No," she admitted. "I... I thought it was safest not to have any contact except in emergencies. I considered going to visit so many times; I thought I could just be a patron at the tavern, a stranger to her, check in from afar. I couldn't even trust a proxy to go for me, lest someone discern the connection. I know that Talinn has a few spies in Misanthropy to keep an eye on me, just as I have mine in his staff and retinue; if anyone caught wind of my interest in her, made the connection, then..." Her voice broke. "Then we might be in the situation we're in now. Oh, 'Gates, Tanya, I'm a terrible mother." She actually started to cry, trying to pat the tears away from her eyes as much as she could.
 
Surprise registered on Tanya’s face as the dam at last broke. The vixen she had been when she left these shores would have revelled in this: her sister finally acknowledging some of the harm she had done, actually crying over it. Who she had been would have leaped at the chance. Absolutely. A terrible sister and a worse mother. What did you expect was going to happen? Those tears mean nothing if you’re not going to act on them.

The vixen Tanya was now – the mother of four – saw things differently. Seasons of her own insecurities with parenting and a quieter lifestyle had softened her enough to empathise; time working through things with Kiptooth had enabled her to feel (somewhat) less awkward in the face of tears. “Hey now, enough of that,” she snorted. “You show me a mother who doesn’t think they’re terrible and I’d be worried. You’re doin’ your best between this ‘Gates damned House and the Imperium; hard enough raisin’ any youngster let alone trying to protect one in the middle of a political mess. You’ll get to know your daughter one way or another and be family in some shape, I promise. She’ll grow up to be her own vixen, an’ if she’s truly yours I don’t think you’ll have much to worry about. After all, you charted your own course, didn’t you?”

Pulling one of the ragged bandanas tied about her wrists loose, she offered it to her sister, one calloused paw extended towards far more manicured claws. “C’mon, Dusk, you’ve survived every wretched misfortune thrown at you so far. Just hang on a few weeks more and we’ll have her back here safe along with some answers about what’s happening in the Keys. You heard any reports which might be linked to whatever’s happened to her family over there?” A lopsided smirk crossed her face. "Fancy that, if not I might end up reportin' to you, after all."
 
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