「 Skill Point ― Heartbroken」

The caravan had yet to return.

Tyr stood upon the opposite shore of his isle, staring up the vale that separated the taiga from the forest of eternal winter. He worried, of course he did. When his two sons had gone with the party, hesitance to allow their leave froze the god in place. Ever since they'd left, he'd been knotted with worry, for their safety, for their wellness. They were strong boys, he knew that, but he'd thought the same about the others.

His chest squeezed, his expression forlorn as he continued to stare up the corridor to the mainland. He still ached for the others, still mourned their loss despite whatever anyone said or thought. Tyr did not forget things so easily, not when he had an eternity of loss already under his belt. However, he knew that he could not hold onto the feeling of brokenness forever.

With a grit of his teeth, the male scuffed the sand and turned back towards the island, looking at the crossing that remained open for his retreat back to the isle. With the shortening days, it would grow harder to access the island until the ice set in. But it also meant they'd be more vulnerable. Fresh water would be hard to come by, and outsiders would be able to access them easier.

A blessing and a curse to have something solid beneath your feet when you travelled to and from the territory.

With one last look over his shoulder, Tyr began to walk back towards the receded sand bar that united the mainland with his island paradise.

---

Skjoldrheim's little dove was far too aware of the worries and pain that came with children spreading their wings. His dislike of the twins did not mean he hoped they came to harm, and did not mean he didn't sympathize with the paternal concerns that weighed on his Skorungr's handsome crown.

Tyr had crossed to the mainland. Cupid wasn't sure why, but he suspected it had something to do with the absence of whispered schemes and fiendish snarls that tended to drift on the breeze through the islands when the boys were home.

Cupid's paws carried him down to the shore, settling just out of reach of the waves then curling his tail around himself. He couldn't put his paw on why he was willing to sit and wait on the sand like a maiden pining after a sailor today; surely there were other tasks to busy himself with.

Instead, Cupid's head bowed slightly as he reached a paw out and toyed with a seas he felt beneath one of his paw pads, feeling out the ridges and curves to determine the shape.

Perhaps a sign from Aphrodite. Maybe he was on the right path, after all.

「 Skill Point ― Heartbroken」

The Skorungr lifted his eyes only to be met by the vision of the powdered colours of Cupid, a sight that momentarily made something flutter within the Norseman. The feeling was unexpected and one that was swallowed and suffocated beneath the guilt he continued to carry. The losses that he could not let go, the skeletons that hid within his closet.

It was wrong of him to have gone about Cupid the way that he had, to knock the man up while their own queen was expecting his children. The ego he once had had been lost, and the consequences sat heavily on his shoulders, crippled by the responsibility he had to those who looked upon him for guidance.

Who was he to guide when he had lost himself? When the shadows marred his vision and the paranoia began to pull down the veil, Tyr felt so ashamed. Except, with each step closer across the land bridge, Tyr found himself lighter, his eyes locked onto the blindman. Despite the pain, the guilt, Tyr still found himself wanting to be selfish.

The courtesan, his courtesan, turned diplomat, commanded something in Tyr that made the god lose all rationale. And what was worse was that he wanted that, to be as happy as he was with Cupid. If only he could break away from the pain that tainted his mind. Was he allowed to let go? Tyr paused before his paws met the sands of his isle, looking to Cupid as he sat on the shore in the bliss of his mind's eye.

Tyr couldn't help but watch, engulfed in his own silence.

---

A soft croo sounded alongside the beating of wings as Cupid's dove landed beside him. He tilted his muzzle toward her, ears pricked, before rolling the seashell beneath his paw to deliver it to her investigative beak. He listened to her peck at and inspect the treasure, before she fluttered to her latest perch once again.

Cupid could smell Tyr's honey-sweet mead and sharp, masculine pine cutting through the brine of the sea. Intoxicating as the first time they'd met, nameless and shameless.

Cupid had never regretted anything except the pain he's brought into Tyr's life, but he wasn't sure he's have done anything differently.

He tilted his chin so he could coyly glance over his shoulder in the direction Tyr's scent was strongest. If there was an urgent problem, he would have already mentioned it. So Cupid could guess this trouble was all inside of the god's mind, and he let his lips curve slightly into a smile.

Welcome to heaven on earth, stranger. What brings you to us?

「 Skill Point ― Heartbroken」

Cupid knew how to wash away the dread that sat upon the skorungr's shoulders simply by existing. His voice was enough to wipe the slate clean.

I saw a siren sitting on the shore and just couldn't resist coming to introduce myself, Tyr felt a smile weave itself onto his lips, his body making its own decision to close the gap between the two wolves.

Each step was making moves in the god's mind, suggesting that being selfish every so often wouldn't be so bad, but there was still a sensation in his chest that caught him before he could make the leap of faith. He still mourned the loss of his children, their children, and somewhere in the darker recesses, he also mourned Freya, wondering if that mental link was fully severed.

It had almost been a year since their Queen had left, and still, he wondered if making a life here would be a waste of breath, that one day it would just be torn away from him.

His eyes closed as his forehead bumped the blind man's cheek. They scrunched up as he repressed the knot that rose to his throat, a sigh leaving his lips as he allowed himself to relax into Cupid's presence.

---

I couldn't resist, Tyr replied. Always willing to play along with Cupid's games, the convoluted smoke-bombs he kept throwing between them. All in an effort, futile, to mask the fondness Cupid feared he wore far too openly upon his brow. He had mostly gotten over that secret sneaking concern that they were going to get caught and somehow punished by someone long since no longer around to do so.

And besides, what worse punishments were there to bear than what he'd already suffered? Mortality, as the gods had always warned, was as cruel a curse as it was coveted a blessing for Cupid.

I couldn't resist, and Cupid's smile was fit to light the world, if the sun wanted a break. He knew he was desirable. He was addicted, however, to Tyr's desire. He breathed in the other man's sweet-pine scent as he neared, pressed the silk of his cheek against the man's crown. You know... His voice was soft, low. Thoughtful and sultry in equal measures. All the armor the saccharine archer wore, Tyr's very presence seemed to lift off his shoulders. A weight relieved. Beneath it, Cupid could not determine what remained. Beneath it, Cupid tried to shy away from Tyr's knowing of him even while he gravitated toward the man's familiar touch; allured and repulsed by the very same things.

Cupid had seen love, loved love, in all its forms.

From the worst of it to the best, and he did not know where along that spectrum his relationships fell, and he did not know what of it he deserved to call his.

Cupid's paw lifted, brushing along the Skorungr's shoulder, as he chuckled lightly, and began again. Sirens are said to devour handsome sailors like yourself. You should be more careful, stranger.

「 Skill Point ― Escort」
♫ What Once Was - Her's ♫

The blind man enthralled Tyr. Always had, always would at the rate they were moving. The words that fell from the dove's lips only furthering the rapture that tainted his incarcerated mind. He couldn't control himself around Cupid, a childish hope blossoming within his chest for something that had always felt out of the god's grasp; freedom.

A low rumble bubbled in the man's chest, a laugh slipping from his split-toned maw. The words that followed were hot on his tongue, begging for the attention of his courtesan.

Then devour me, svanen min (my swan)

Tyr couldn't pull himself away from the temptation that was Cupid. It was during times when he should have shown loyalty, the red thread that seemed to connect them tugged, forever reminding him that he would never be free of the pastel man. They had been through thick and thin, hardships shaping their relationship and bringing them closer than ever before.

Some might have quit, and yet Tyr continued to find himself drawn to the touch of Cupid, to the tranquility the wise man bestowed upon his raging thoughts.

Perhaps it was toxic to rely on someone so heavily when nothing had been discussed; no boundaries had been set. But the feelings that stirred in Tyr's chest never wavered, only the guilt of his conscience restraining him from what could be.