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Right to a Bear's Arms, Ch. 17
🕑 Added 2022-09-19 16:22:26 +0000 UTCThe DND game wound on for hours. Kelin couldn't stop smiling and laughing. Hera had really gotten into the game, channeling her character from a place he hadn't ever seen her draw from before. She was confident, awkward still when interacting in Roleplaying scenarios, but she was always sure of her character's motivations, her commitment to her role, as well as having already found a place in Jeremy's handcrafted world that was all her own. She fought smart rather than hard during the grueling combat scenes, using spells in such clever and innovative ways that they all could all hardly keep up sometimes, while also standing on the front line more often than not, side-by-side with his valorous Paladin and Uncle Rolf's ferocious Barbarian.
Erik and Cory had joined in a couple of hours into the game, and he was eager to see how Hera dealt with their pair of oddballs. They had not disappointed. Cory played Balthazar, a Tiefling Assassin-Monk, dark and mysterious, who danced around the field dealing death wherever he went. He actively worshipped one of the Elemental Primarchs, bound entities of primordial destruction who were locked in pocket dimensions so that they could not destroy the world. He was sometimes a bit too sinister for Kelin's liking but given the world they were playing in, it made total sense, and Balthazar had saved the whole party more times than he could count. He and Hera had agreed easily on a respectful silence between their characters, even though they themselves were constantly cracking jokes together. Hera had a wicked sense of humor, even once making Uncle Rolf snort while taking a drink of beer.
Erik, meanwhile, played the most unique character amongst their ragtag and motley group: a Dragonforged Fighter. Hera, of course, had had no idea what that was, until Erik pulled up a picture on his phone that had inspired Ysgard, his character, fully formed. Having seen it several times, Kelin at first had been unsure how it would work: a literal robot Dragonborn they had found inside an ancient tomb alongside dozens of others of his kind, all dead. His people, as small a population as they had ever been when first made, had been built as the personal army of a mysterious sorcerer who had since vanished. He and Hera's character Arna got along surprisingly enough, but Ysgard got along with everyone.
When Kelin's mother came down to let them know dinner was ready, they were all embroiled in planning a raid upon an abandoned fortress now being used as a base for Rrorl's far-ranged efforts. The boss fight was coming up and all were eager to see which iteration of Jeremy's over-powered big bad villain they would be facing. They all tromped off up the stairs towards the dining room, chattering excitedly about everything they had accomplished thus far.
"So, you have fought Rrorl before?" asked Hera, hanging in the back with Kelin while they waited for their turn to climb the staircase. He nodded, grinning from ear to ear to see her so interested in something that he rarely got a chance to talk about. Their in-character dialogues were probably his favorite part of any game he had ever been in, and not just because his bodybuilder-esque girlfriend was playing DND with him. "And you've killed him too? Is he undead or something?"
"At least four times already," he explained. "And no, he isn't quite undead. See, Rrorl is an anomaly in Caimor, Jeremy's homebrew world. He exists in multiple domains at once and we're never sure which version of him we're coming up to fight. It might sound kind of boring, always fighting the same guy, but Jeremy mixes it up constantly. We've even ended up fighting WITH Rrorl before against another version of himself."
Hera nodded along eagerly, still jotting down notes rapidly in a notepad she had acquired early on, using it to keep track of all the lore she was informed of either in or out of game. "And we are fighting...which version now?"
"Well, given all the Undead we've encountered so far, my bet is on Rrorl the Everdead, but then there's all that corrupted Druid magic we've come across. Jeremy themes each version of Rrorl so that we can know what to expect. He still finds ways to surprise us though. We're all just hoping that maybe since it's this kind of Domain this time that we can find another piece of Dylan's Warlock's Patron."
Hera added that to her notes as well. Kelin was impressed to see she had filled six full pages with well-annotated details from just that single session. Finally, the staircase was clear enough and they climbed up together, still chatting. They arrived at the dining room where everyone else was already seated. As ever, Kelin's father sat at the head of the horseshoe, right next to where his mother customarily sat. Idona and the boys weren't there either, most likely helping set up. He and Hera took a seat together, across the table from Jeremy.
"So, Hera," inquired the shorter man, beaming across at them. "How are you liking your first DND campaign?"
Hera sniffed. "Oh, it is fun enough," she drawled, playing it off as if she was just being nice, then breaking quickly and beaming right back at the Game-Master. "I am having blast!"
"She was just asking about all the iterations of Rrorl that we've already fought and talked with me about which one we may be coming up on now," explained Kelin, chortling at her energy.
The rest of the table turned their attention temporarily to the trio's conversation. Jeremy pondered, consulting a similar notepad that he pulled from his pocket. Unlike Hera's sparkling new one, his was faded, battered, and peeling. He flicked through several jumbled, blotted pages and then tucked it back away. "I, unfortunately, cannot comment," he said, trying to appear mysterious.
"Well we've fought the Dreadflame," commented Bryan from nearby. "In the Dragon's Graveyard." He grinned at Hera's interested gaze. "He was trying to siphon the elemental energy of dead dragons into undoing one of the World Seals."
"And Stormfury," Rolf added, currently busy scrolling through his phone. He sat right next to Theo, having been showing him something on the screen. Both men had been chuckling childishly, no doubt at whatever video they had been watching. Kelin would never get over how very teenager-like the two fully grown men could be. He adored his family, seemingly never losing that youthful energy. "He messed me up. I thought Idona electrifying me was bad enough."
Theo stroked his chin. "And I think I remember the big argument around when you all were in the middle of that big debacle surrounding the Lifegiver and the Felldark. Who ended up the more evil version in that one?"
"Lifegiver," chorused the whole table, including Idona who had just walked in, bearing a covered plate. She set down the platter and wiped off her hands. "That guy was a total douche. I know Rrorl is supposedly the embodiment of Chaos, meant to unleash the Elemental Primarchs and undo the bindings of the Chained Dog, but seriously..." She turned her fierce blue eyes towards Jeremy. "Props to you, I did NOT see that angle coming."
Jeremy glowed at the praise that everyone else echoed. Hera counted off the names she had heard on a paw. Kelin glanced back at her as the others returned to their own conversations. "Dreadflame, Stormfury, Lifegiver, Felldark, Everdead," he heard her muttering. He raised an eyebrow, watching her consult her own notes again. He bit his lip as a surge of affection for her rose up, once again setting the butterflies in his stomach to flight. She glanced at him, ears folding down momentarily and fluffing up once again. "Sorry, just want to keep everything straight," she stated.
He shook his head quickly, leaning more towards her and speaking quieter so it was just the two of them. "I do not mind at all; you have no idea how much more perfect you just keep getting."
She beamed softly down at him, eyes sparkling, and leaned her furry forehead down against his. That simple gesture always somehow made his whole body become light and fluttering air for brief moments. "Thank you, my gallant Paladin," she murmured then, tone only half-teasing. He nuzzled up against her. "I've been having so much fun, more than I believed I would."
Wiggling his nose against her much colder one, Kelin grinned wider. "I'm just happy that you are at all." He stroked the fur of her paw, then looked around at a unanimous groan from all around the table. "Ah, go to Helheim," he growled at them all goodnaturedly. Everyone laughed.
The doors opened again and his mother emerged, carrying a platter of steaks, piled at least three high, and each wrapped in its own tinfoil cover. She didn't even sweat or grunt as she placed the heavy plate down in the center of the table. The boys followed close behind her, toting extra entrees and sides. Wiping at her sweaty brow, the matron of House Leod then cleaned her hands on a rag, hanging from her apron. Stiched across the front, in nordic-styled lettering, was the phrase, "Don't kiss the Valkyrie. No one goes to Valhalla for stupidity!"
Beaming around at everyone, who had now taken their appropriate seats, Ingrid cleared her throat. "Now, everyone, before we dig into this meal, there are a few words I'd like to say." A sense of dread settled into Kelin's stomach as all eyes turned towards him and Hera. Her paw gripped his hand a bit harder as if she too could sense the mood of everyone else present. His mother raised a tankard, which Rolf had just gone around the tables and filled every single person's appropriate drinking device with either mead, soda, milk, or juice at their request, using several large jugs sitting alongside the food. "A toast!" Ingrid said grandly. "To the Crazy Leods!"
"Skol!" roared the entire room. Every hand reached forward and gripped the handle, curve, or swell of their cups, tankards, drinking horns, or bottles, lifting them as one. Kelin held up his goblet, stylized with carved wolves and a personalized, miniature Tyr posed on it, currently filled with Mountain Dew. He echoed the rest of them. Hera did likewise, tankard looking comically small in her paw. Everyone took a drink.
Ingrid kept her tankard raised. "As ever, we have yetore to celebrate, so for our heavier drinkers, I suggest small sips." There came a round of chuckles. Looking directly at her son, she beamed wider. "To Kelin, our Tyr, temporarily home again from his time away in the big city." She lifted the drink higher. "You always have a kind word, a warm laugh, and never a selfish thought seemingly in your whole body. You give of yourself constantly to anyone who might ask. Your heart is big enough for all of Midgard, or Earth if we aren't being dramatic. We are all endlessly proud of you. Skol."
"Skol!" came the roar of everyone present in the hall once again. Again, everyone drank. Kelin's cheeks burned. One of the loudest voices had been Hera's in fact.
Turning her gaze then to Kelin's friends, Ingrid continued speaking. "To Bryan, Dylan, and Jeremy, you boys are, as ever, as close as actual family to us all. You always have been, and forever will be, welcome in Leod Hall. Think of this place as your home away from home, and all of us as your extended family. Bryan, I hope your music and family careers sail off and away to unimaginable heights. Dylan, your endless love for everyone you meet and your boundless, open mind are your greatest qualities. And Mr. Micheal, Jeremy, your creativity continues to inspire us all. Whenever you publish your book, I absolutely demand the first signed copy. Skol!"
"SKOL!" roared the dining hall once more, setting the rafters nearly to ringing. The boys all had brightly glowing cheeks.
Finally, Ingrid turned her gaze to Hera. "Last, but certainly not least, our most recently joined and happily welcome member of our crazy little clan, for as long as you wish to be: Hera. You are a gem, a treat, an absolute angel, and what is more: you make my son happy. You are a truly beautiful, wonderful, and joyous soul, one whom I am happy to have met and welcomed into my home. Wherever you may roam in this life, no matter what port you call home, you will always find another here, among all of us." At this, Ingrid wordlessly raised her tankard up high. Everyone else did likewise, Kelin holding his up over his head as high as he could reach. Hera's ears had folded fully back against her skull, unable to look directly at any of them. "Skol," Ingrid breathed softly.
"Skol," breathed the whole of the room as well. Once more, everyone drank. Hera sniffed and repeated the gesture. Kelin squeezed her free paw.
"And now, before our food grows cold, let's dig in!" announced Theo, rubbing his hands together eagerly. Everyone cheered and he and Ingrid began to pass around individual steaks to everyone. They were large cuts, but the largest of them all was given directly to Hera. "Medium rare?" questioned Theo hopefully. Hera nodded, and he unwrapped her cut of meat. Ingrid wandered around the table, helping pass out the sides and other various pieces of the grand meal to whoever asked for something, setting her plate last.
Everyone had just picked up their knives, eager to cut into the sirloin, still steaming on their plates, when the doorbell rang. A massive cacophony of howls and barks from outside sounded. Theo, with a piece of steak halfway to his bearded lips, paused. He furrowed his brows, looking around at them all. "Were we expecting company?" he asked his wife.
"I do not believe so," answered Ingrid. She made to get up, but Theo raised his hand, stood from his chair, and pushed it in. He paused only to kiss her on the lips and then walked towards the main hall, heading in the direction of the front doors.
"Feel free to eat, everyone," he called back over his shoulder before he exited the room.
Shrugging, the entire room did so. Happy conversation leaped up all around. Several minutes passed, however, but Theo still had not returned. More than a few questioning eyes kept glancing in the direction he had gone. Voices, muted and barely audible, could be heard murmuring down the hall. Ingrid tapped her fingers on the handle of her tankard over and over, glancing at Rolf who similarly seemed confused.
Hera leaned down towards Kelin then. "Is something wrong?" she asked.
His mouth half-full of steak, Kelin chewed rapidly and swallowed. "With dad?" She nodded. "No idea," he admitted. "I can't imagine who could be at the door and making him take so long." He looked back over his shoulder as the voices grew a bit louder. He put down his knife and fork. "I'm gonna go see," he informed everyone. Several people tried to wave him down, but he just shook his head. "It doesn't feel right, eating when everyone isn't here," he told them all firmly. He stood as his father had, pushing in his chair after himself, kissing Hera on the brow, although he had to stand on his tiptoes to do so, and then he stalked from the room.
He strained his ears as he left behind the buzz of conversation in the dining hall, keeping his footsteps light. A pair of men's voices could be heard the closer he got to the front doors.
"I understand your position," came Theo's, sounding calm, relaxed, and deathly serious. Kelin's hackles rose on instinct. That was his father's most dangerous voice, the one he used when something or someone was threatening the family in whatever fashion. He had not aligned himself as the honorary Heimdal of the Leod clan for no good reason: a guardian to the core. "But, frankly, Mr. Conners, I don't really think there's much you can legally do in this situation."
Kelin's stomach tightened. Conners. Jeremy's stepfather was here? Why? And why were legal rights being discussed?
"He's my stepson," growled out a masculine voice, rigid and professional tone edged with frustration, most likely from not immediately being obeyed. It was the voice of an officer, well used to others listening when he spoke. "He lives underneath my roof, and that gives me certain rights to come asking for him when I feel the need, especially when he violated the terms of our agreement of his going out on a job as fruitless as his."
"I think the main issue here, Mr. Conners," countered Theo, never breaking that calm monotone voice, "Is that your immediate response to anyone not kowtowing to your demands is that you claim ownership over another person's time or presence as if they were a soldier at your command. This is not the Navy."
"I'm well aware of that," snapped the other voice. A deep breath was heard being taken. "Mr. Leod," he began again.
"Professor," interrupted Kelin's father. "I didn't go to college for eight years, earned two Ph.D.'s and a prominent teaching job at the university, to be called Mister by someone who thinks anyone who hasn't served in the military isn't worth the basic respect of station and proper titles. My brother-in-law and both my nephews have also served multiple combat tours, and they still give me the respect I would ask of anyone and give in equal exchange."
"And what was it you taught again?" came what sounded like a barely contained sneer. "History? Stage combat? Or was it Woodshop?"
There was a short silence. Kelin could all but see Theo's long, slow blink of refusing to rise to a barbed comment. The famous gesture was nearly cat-like, viewing whoever spoke as not a threat and certainly not intimidating or worth his emotional weight to get upset over such weak-hearted taunts.
"Regardless," coughed Mr. Conners. "Jeremy's mother and I would like him to return home. His curfew is coming up, and his violation of my request for him to come home after his work was finished is not a good note for his current behavior."
"We are currently eating dinner, and Jeremy is my guest," Theo stated flatly. "As such, I will not put him out of my home, especially when we are celebrating my son's birthday. He wanted his friend here. He is here." Theo's tone brooked no argument possible.
There was another deep sigh. "May I at least come in then? I feel like a solicitor, standing here on your doorstep."
"You are welcome in my home so long as you claim no authority over me whilst you are present beneath my roof." Theo still had not moved from the doorway when Kelin peeked around the corner. He saw Mr. Conners there, standing just outside. His close-cropped blonde hair looked freshly shaved on the sides. He was a square-jawed man of a solid frame and impressive enough musculature. He wore casual clothes, a t-shirt, jeans, and boots.
"That's...fine," muttered the Navy officer. There was another pause. "Are...you going to let me in?" he asked then, sounding annoyed.
Theo still did not even budge, twitch, or otherwise indicate he intended to yet. "Your stepson is a grown man," he said a moment later.
"He's 20," countered Mr. Conners, snorting.
"Nearly 21," retorted Theo. "He's legally allowed to spend his time wherever he chooses to. You don't get to decide that for him. And, while it is not my place to say so, when a young man desires to better himself through quality education, turning down his request by throwing around excuses of liability and questioning his worthiness does him no favors." Cold had seeped into Theo's voice. Kelin rarely had heard such ice in his father's tone, sharp as a battle-axe.
Mr. Conners actually bristled. "You're right," he growled. "That isn't your place to say. Now, may I come in, or not?"
Kelin could feel the animosity between the two men, almost as if he were watching a wolf and a mountain lion squaring off against one another. Theo must have done another one of those long, slow blinks before he finally stepped to the side. "Enter and be welcome by the law of hospitality," he intoned.
Rolling his eyes, Mr. Conners stalked inside. "Make me sound like a vampire, why don't you?" he asked, voice dry. Kelin scowled to see he didn't take off his boots. His father looked likewise annoyed. Mr. Conners made to begin walking down the hall, but Theo abruptly put up a tattooed arm, blocked his path. Flinching, the Navy man actually hesitated, almost as if he had expected a blow from how fast Theo had moved. "Something wrong?" he asked, voice wary.
"Your boots," growled Theo. "Take them off. My wife just swept." Mr. Conners actually had the gall to scoff, but he visibly quailed a second later as Theo's upraised hand slowly flexed. "Your boots," he repeated, speaking each word slowly and meaningfully.
Mr. Conners bent and unlaced his work boots, placing them none-too-neatly by the door. He stood to his full height again, arms spread wide. "Good?" he demanded, trying obviously to keep his calm. "Or should I have also brought a gift?"
"Accepting such would be unwelcome," responded Theo, voice once again calm. "This way, please." He began striding off down the hall, towards Kelin.
He hurried off back to the dining room, moving as quietly as possible. He got back into his seat. Hera glanced down at him as he tried to make himself look unperturbed. He knew she noticed something was wrong. He glanced up at her, shaking his head ever so slightly, then glanced meaningfully at the doorway to the dining hall.
All voices and conversation ceased as the two men entered the room. The air went tense. Jeremy noticeably became as stiff as a corpse, eyes wide and noticeably afraid. Erik and Cory's hands tightened slowly into balls. Rolf slowly removed his glasses. Kelin actually saw Idona's knife hand retract slowly beneath the table, turning in her chair more and seemingly to try and interpose herself more directly between Jeremy, who sat right beside her, and the man who had just arrived.
Theo met Kelin's eyes, his own gleaming knowingly before he cleared his throat. "It seems we have an extra dinner guest!" he announced, voice now cheerful again. "Ingrid, I believe you know Mr. Conners?"
Kelin's mother stood from her chair. "Ah, Walter, of course," she stated. She had a flat, small smile on her lips, her most professional and unfriendly look. "How is Helen?"
Walter Conners blinked at the reactions of everyone in the room, scanning all of their faces, and then balking openly when he saw Hera. He seemed speechless for a second, eyes wide and mouth tense before he tore his gaze from the Ursid. "F-fine," he muttered. He looked towards his stepson. "Jeremy, your mother and I were worried. We'd like you to come home."
"Mr. Conners," beamed Theo, reaching up and patting the man on the shoulder. "I thought I told you we were in the middle of dinner! Why don't you have a seat?" The entire table shifted a bit in their chairs.
"That...really isn't necessary," the man stated, trying to save face when obviously surrounded by those who were not trying very hard to contain their distaste for him being present amidst their gathering.
"Nonsense!" stated Rolf, beaming in much the same manner as Theo. "Boys, make a space for our latest guest." He waved a huge hand at his sons. Erik and Cory immediately made room, flanking the open chair between them. Their movements were professional and courteous, but their faces were openly the harshest.
Lanced by every eye in the room, Walter squeezed himself into the chair between the two Torsten boys. Ingrid walked over, handing him a cup. "Water?" she asked, already pouring him a drink before he could refuse. "Anything to eat? I've made plenty." Her tone suggested cool and calm hospitality.
"No thank you," Walter replied, but he did take the cup. He sipped at it once, set it down, and looked again at his stepson. "Are you almost done?" he asked, voice stern.
Jeremy looked down at his half-full plate, face downcast. His hands began to tremble and twitch, one of his frequent bipolar episodes beginning to take hold. Kelin had seen a lot of them to know what it was. Jeremy started to push himself away from the table, but Idona stopped him, smiling as sweetly as honey at their friend's stepfather. "Actually, Jeremy had just finished telling me how hungry he was!" she interjected. She turned to look at the older boy who was staring at her in surprise, trembles forgotten. "You definitely need to try some of these green beans!" she stated, picking up a bowl and scooping some onto his plate.
Walter clicked his tongue against his teeth, looking annoyed. He glanced slowly around the table, once again fixating on the only non-Human in the room. Kelin stared daggers at him for how openly he did so. He could all but hear the thoughts racing in the man's mind. He deliberately reached up and cupped Hera's paw in his hand, making the Ursid jump a bit.
"You haven't met my girlfriend," he stated, voice a bit hot. "Mr. Conners, this is Hera Doring. She's a veteran too." He felt Hera's paw shudder a bit against his hand but he stroked it gently with his thumb, keeping her calm.
"Err...hello," Walter responded mechanically. "Where...did you serve?" he asked as if trying to be polite. His gaze hadn't softened at all.
Hera cleared her throat. She kept holding onto Kelin's hand. "Siberia, Japan, Germany, Ireland, and here in States," she replied firmly. "Most recent deployment was as National Guard in Estarof."
Mr. Conners actually blinked then, looking surprised. "All that huh? What branch?"
"Army," she growled softly. "Eight years. Sergeant Doring, 85th Iron Fang Company, Delta-2-5-Foxtrot."
"MOS?" Walter shot back, sounding as if he were testing her.
"Original job was 42-Alpha. Public Relations and Emotional Resource Management," she fired right back. "Mostly got stuck doing inventories and helping those with PTSD or workplace complaints."
"Where are you from?" he asked then.
"Siberia. My family lived there for while, then relocated. I come to States for college while no longer part of Active Duty."
Walter finally seemed satisfied by that. "Well, umm, it's nice to meet you, ma'am. Your boyfriend and my son have been good friends for mostly their entire lives. It's nice that he found himself a truly respectable woman to keep him on the straight and narrow." He tried a friendly smile. Everyone tensed up at that.
Hera's eyes narrowed. "More like I am lucky to have met him. I was involved in violent riot months ago, injured in line of duty by protestors, lost my entire squad. Kelin saved me from my darkness following." She squeezed his hand a bit more firmly and he finally looked away from the shocked Mr. Conners. He looked up at her, smiling softly, a gesture she returned.
Coughing awkwardly, Walter averted his eyes. He glanced again at Jeremy, who still had not touched much more of his plate. "Err...not that I'm trying to rush you, son," he began to say again.
Jeremy again began to shudder. Theo suddenly broke in. "So, Jeremy, what did you decide you wanted to study at Arknought?" he asked, voice loudly overriding any other sound in the room. Every eye turned to the patriarch of the Leod clan. He was looking pointedly at the shocked young man. "Writing? Photography? I've done some reading; both have excellent workshops and counselors available in either field."
Jeremy stammered. He made to glance at his stepfather again, who was glaring at Theo, about to interrupt, but Theo just leaned more forward in his chair, beaming at Jeremy. He swallowed. "Ummm...I'd...love a Writing degree," he admitted shyly. "But I know there isn't a lot of call for..."
"Writing!" crowed Theo loudly. "That's an excellent trade! There can never be enough writers in this world, setting their books off into the world, like ships out onto the seas! I've read everything you've ever shared with us; I could easily see you on the best seller's list!"
Mr. Conners scoffed. "A writer in today's market has no real..." he started to say.
Rolf jumped in too. "Absolutely!" he boomed, lifting his drinking horn. "Is the campus easy to get around on, Kelin?" he asked. Eyes turned towards him then.
Nodding quickly, unsure of where this was going, Kelin relented. "Y-yeah, it's super easy," he admitted. "The writing centers are all right next to each other and the library just up a hill from them. I think a degree for Writing would maybe take a year at max if you didn't want anything beyond an Associates."
"Worthless," growled Walter, but again was overridden by more voices. He stood up then, growling loudly. "I don't care much for this topic of conversation!" he stated flatly. "Jeremy, we're going home."
Theo stood then as well. "No," he interjected. His hands were in tight balls, face having dropped all professionalism or false cheer. "Jeremy, do you want to go to Arknought University?" He looked straight at the young man. Everyone did.
"I..."
"Of course he doesn't," Walter growled out, then actually almost jumped back in his seat as Rolf and Theo both slammed fists against the oaken table.
"I was not talking to you," snapped Theo. "Interrupt anyone else here again, MR. Conners, and I'll put you out of my house so fast that you'll be performing an about-face just to realize where you are!" His voice had risen into a leonine snarl. His long hair almost bristled as a real lion might have. "Jeremy," he repeated, voice no less firm.
Jeremy swallowed, beginning another spasm. His hands shook, he looked down at his lap. He squinched his eyes shut, clenching his jaw. His chest rose and fell rapidly and he rocked back and forth. Everyone stared, concerned, as he tried to rein in what was a completely uncontrollable affliction at this point. Idona leaned over and hugged him. He calmed slowly. His hands ceased their jittering. He opened his dual-colored eyes.
"Yes, I do," he said firmly, looking right at his step-dad.
Walter didn't say a word, he just stared at Jeremy.
"Good," Theo grunted. "Because I've already signed the legal waiver on your application." Everyone whirled round to look at him. Ingrid nodded firmly.
Walter's eyes were wide and dreadfully angry. "You aren't allowed to..." he growled.
"Not without a suitable backup cosigner," agreed Theo.
"That would be me," snapped Ingrid. "And yes, I have already done so as well. I put us down as his emergency contacts, his mother as one as well. Jeremy is a fine young man, MR. Conners. It's high time you stopped treating him like a child, a broken child, and let him try and live his own life. You don't want to be legally or financially responsible for him? Is that it? Are you worried a wicked or savage Anthro might attack him?"
Walter pursed his lips. "The reputation for such things aren't exactly that uncommon, and besides..." he started to say, but then flinched. Everyone did. A rolling growl came from Hera. Kelin looked up, actually alarmed to see her ears had folded back, her fur tight across her hackles and lips. Her golden eyes were fixed right on the Navy man, almost stinking with a spike in her Aggression. He dropped what he had been about to say. "It's...not that," he lied. "His mother is worried about him being so far away."
"It's an hour drive," commented Kelin dryly, stroking Hera's paw lovingly to help her calm down. "Not exactly like he's across the country. Hera and I drove here just this morning. She could go visit him any time."
Mr. Conners looked as if he could care less about Kelin's input. "Boy, I hardly think that..." he started to say.
Theo's fist again slammed down on the table. The storm had at last broken upon the shores. The leader of the Leods looked as ferocious as he ever had. "Call my son a boy one more time," he thundered, "Underneath my roof, and I will evict you from these premises faster than King Aele broke when Ragnar's sons Blood-Eagled him!" He stood fully from his seat. "Your stepson has suffered enough with everything he has gone through, but you couldn't care less, could you? You only care that he is obedient, that he stays in line, that he respects you, fears you. Jeremy has been a part of my family since he and my son were barely old enough to walk. All of my son's friends are as family to me, as much my sons as if I had helped feed and change them as babies. I have fed and changed them as babies, Jeremy especially when his mother struggled to hold down a separate job to provide for him and his brother while his birth father was away on deployment! Helen and I are good friends, I got her her first teaching job, and I will be damned to Hel if I let you mistreat her son further."
Mr. Conners looked completely taken aback. Kelin had seen, however, the angry tick of his jaw, the bunching up of his fists. If he had been not surrounded by so many angry Vikings, Kelin suspected that the Navy officer might have actually tried to fight back against his father's display of dominance. "Mr. Leod there's no reason to get so angry," he instead tried to say, smiling weakly in hopes of placating the wrathful patriarch.
"Professor!" roared Theo. He slammed his chair back as he surged to his feet, knocking it to the ground. "I made excuses for you, Walter; I told myself you were struggling to get to know a son who was grieving the loss of his father. I told myself that you did care, deep down, about his health and wellbeing. But if you dare to sit here in my house and tell me to my face that you will deny a young man the chance to earn a quality education, a degree, to further his own dreams, then you are as low a man as I have ever seen." He lifted a hand, pointing at the door to the dining hall. "Get out," he growled. "Jeremy, you can stay here as long as you need to. You're welcome in my house whenever and however long you wish to be."
Jeremy stammered and looked down again, eyes misting over with tears. Dylan reached over and put a hand on his shoulder, actually glaring at Mr. Conners in a way that he never looked at anyone before. Bryan also looked angry, bearded jaw set in a harsh line. Erik and Cory loomed on either side of Walter. Rolf was drinking steadily from his drinking horn, eyes never leaving their guest's face.
Sensing he had no chance of winning this confrontation, Mr. Conners finally stood rigidly from his chair. "Fine," he growled back, voice weak in comparison to Theo's fury. "I won't forget this, Leod."
"Threaten a man who offers you safe hospitality," snarled Rolf then, standing slowly. "And you forsake all protection of said welcome. I'd chose my words very carefully from here, Lieutenant-Commander."
Turning to snap at Kelin's uncle, only then did Walter seem to realize how much bigger Rolf was than him. His eyes snapped to the Navy tattoo on Rolf's forearm, the Special Forces insignia as well. Erik and Cory had risen as well, flanking their father. Walter turned and left hurriedly. They all heard the front door slam a few moments later. Howls of dogs announced that he was driving away from the house.
Jeremy stood slowly from the table. His hands were shaking and his shoulders were stiff. "I-I'm...sorry," he choked out. "I...I have to...I have to go...for a second..." He rushed out of the room. Everyone looked after him in concern. Theo wiped his hands and picked back up his chair from the floor.
Kelin's mother looked over at Kelin. "Are you finished eating, dear?" she asked.
Kelin stood without thinking about it. "Yep," he stated firmly. He let go of Hera's paw. "I'll be back," he promised her, and she nodded understandingly. "Dad?" he asked, right before he hurried after his best friend. Theo grunted. "I'm so proud to be a Leod."
His father swelled slightly and he looked away from his son. "Go take care of your brother," he said, voice sounding cracked from emotion and the strain of the volume he had been using. "Ingrid, I'm going to go set up one of the guest rooms. Save my steak for me, please? I can't eat it right now but I don't want to waste it."
His wife was already wrapping up every single absent member's meal. "Of course," she glowed up at her husband. She exchanged a wordless look with Kelin, tears of pride shining in her eyes.
He nodded at her and hurried off after where Jeremy had gone. He knew where he was probably going to be. The soft crying helped guide him, down the hall and out of a side door to the large dog pen outside. It wasn't the first time he had helped Jeremy through something like this, the last time when his father had died. He couldn't shake the glowing aura of how much he loved his family. This might have been more drama than he had wanted, but this was by far the best birthday ever.
Comments
You have a way of writing tension, it's palpable and you can feel it straining in your words. Another amazing chapter. The Leods are such an amazing family unit.
