Set to shortly before the funeral

It didn't hit her at first. But when she sees the new King of Northfall, her heart feels like it falls apart on the spot. And Fleetwood's not one to sit on her feelings, even if she's not sure it's right to talk to a king just. Casually. Actually, she's never met a King at all. Valeska's the closest thing to that, she thinks? It's not like their pack had a "king" and... Oh, screw it, she's going to walk up to him right now. He's mostly alone, right? She might not get this chance again, and maybe speaking to him casually in front of everyone would embarrass him.

"Ah, sir!" She approaches without much fear, though also a bit of uncertainty. What does she call a king? "I'm, er, Fleetwood from Elysium. I'm a Shadowsbane, a warrior, and I only wanted you to know..." Is this condescending? Is she being an idiot? "Well, you have allies in this moment. If you need a listening ear, you can call on me."

He's a baby. She imagines Pinesprings or Pennyroyal in his position, and it fractures her heart. Her kids aren't much smaller than him. This isn't right, for him to be without his father in a time like this, and with so much pressure on his shoulders...

Arvid is headed to try out the mead, to get drunk. His father’s dead, after all and what a perfect time for it - the celebration wasn’t a total bust, but rather the opposite, and now that he’s said his peace, he can relax while scouting out potential for his Royal Court and his Regent.

Ah sir! Sir? There’s an unfamiliar, female voice calling behind him and the king slows, turning his head to look over his shoulder as the darker female approaches him. She comes from the south, Elysium, she tells him. He bows his head to her, although he’s the one who’s the king.

She is a Shadows.. Bane? He arches a brow, allowing citrus eyes to linger over her form. Patches of white, here and there, upon her shoulder; her ankle, her toes. Her other shoulder is brown, like some of the other colors in his own coat.

She’s a warrior, for Elysium? What an interesting rank name. He nods his head, ears swiveling. Elysium and Northfall have been allies for quite sometime now, though, have they not, Misses.. Fleetwood? He says softly, twitching his nose. My wife to be comes from your pack, after all, and I’m sure my father.. His voice trails off as a sudden wave of sadness and grief slams into him like a mac truck, and he takes a sharp inhale, but he feels like he's drowning, and -

.. and he realizes a bit too late that she was only trying to be nice. In her own way. Oh. But uh - yes. T-thank you. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. This was supposed to be my childhood. He looks at her with a longing expression, like someone’s stolen from him. His voice cracks, and he flattens his ears. He'd been keeping it together so well, up until now.

I-I've said too much. I.. I should go. Drown his sorrows in mead, or a woman, or something.

((Phone posting pls do not mind the mess))

And she thought her heart couldn't break anymore.

"No, no!" She steps forward, ignoring proper decorum. Not that she knows it. "You're not just an ally-- You're not much older than my sons, you...!" She shakes her head, then extends a paw. "You're absolutely right that you should just be a child! It's not right! It's not fair!"

Is she crying? Because she might be on the verge of tears. Empathy is a bitch sometimes, but Fleetwood can't be anything but honest. "Tell you what: I won't tell anyone, a single soul, if you just want to be a kid around me. If you don't want to be a king all the time, you can be safe around me and my family, okay?"

She freezes, realizing how much of her heart she wears on her sleeve. "I... I guess by that I mean, you don't have to be alone. I know we don't know each other, but... It'd be wrong for me to not at least offer to help. In any way. I mean it."

It was, perhaps a good thing he was not yet made aware of the brutal passing of his mother, nor of Levi - not that he and Levi had ever shared a private moment together, despite being the label as brothers. He would have been the closest thing that Arvid would have considered for a Regent, based on his age alone, though - and did find it odd that he was not present, especially lately, but did Arvid assume that meant Lord Pissy Pants was dead? No. Of course not.

Fleetwood steps forward, throwing him in the same age group as her own children, extending her paw, and Arvid looks to her paw and then to her eyes. She’s in agreement, but now he feels foolish for saying something. He’s supposed to be the king! His ears flatten, but he can’t tell if he’s seeing things or if she’s crying.

Did he make her cry? Shit. She offers him to be a kid. A kid? He scoffs, and looks away, embarrassed, still. Not really rejecting her - but not knowing how to accept her without making it look like he doesn’t want this life, too. Because he does, in some way - because it’s the life his Dad wanted for him, and it’s all he’s got left, of his dad.

It’s all he knows. I don’t know… if I know how to be one anymore, and you live so far away, now. I can’t ask you to forsake Elysium for Northfall. And he certainly couldn’t make regular trips to Elysium just for a fake childhood.

Besides what would that short, tall lady think?

It's true, Elysium is far. But... She notices him shrinking, and she shudders, lowering her paw and fidgeting in place. "You're... I mean, you're right. But we... we don't know how long we're staying." She shouldn't work into this, but justice calls to her. This is what needs her, and does Valeska really need her? Well....

"I could talk to Valeska and my mate, and my children. If we're allies, we're supposed to support each other through hard times? If I stayed for a few months... While you're grieving... And then after that..." She shifts even harder, pacing slightly. Oh, this is awkward. "I do have to make the choice for my family that's right, but..." She wants to throw up. "Even if I just visited every so often, for a week or two or three at a time, would that help? If you had a friend or a mentor or... whatever you wanna call it?"

Arvid does not know what to make of this, what to - what to do. The extension of help is nice - that’s what allies are for, he wants to tell himself. Yet, the distrust - he doesn’t know her. He wants to accept her offer, but how would it look? Unprofessional, like he’s not ready to lead.

But he’s not. He’s hardly a year old. He nods his head, slowly. It would.. help. He spits out, roughly. It’s awkward. The… rift, between packs, I mean. There’s a rift, now that They’re.. de.. his voice quivers, his throat closes up.

He can’t say the words. His eyes widen, and he looks up at her, and then away from her. You.. Your help would be.. I would be- Northfall.. Would be.. Gods, what are words? He takes in a shaky inhale as his whole body trembles.

Yes. Fine. That’s fine, he says quickly, through quiet sobs and he hopes she can not hear the difference.

He still isn’t looking at her.

Has he been getting this kindness, she wonders. If his family is around, if they're supporting him through this... She steps forward, touching a nose to his neck. It's a soft invitation to come closer. If he wanted a hug, she'd give him one. He seems like he needs one, but she doesn't want to just force it.

"I'll talk to Nemean and Valeska, then. But if there's anything you need in the meantime..." Her brows knit. "You can just let me know."