Hey There, Dad.

Yoon's jaw clenched, struggling with the want, no, need to run to his father, to feel the man's arms close around him, to be told that he was loved, wanted. All things he had dreamed of for so many years, before and after they slept for the ages. How many times had he dreamed of this moment, of finding his father, of being able to yell, to scream, that he deserved just as much love and recognition as that precious gladiator of his. The quiet fight happening in him, and his colder side won in that moment, lowering the sword and turning to slide it back into it's sheath, his hands finding his shirt and pulling it back on. Didn't know when you'd make it over to this part of the world. Last I checked you were in Antiva with the woman.

He drug a hand down his face as he shook out the practice fatigue, tossing his long braid back over his shoulder and out of the way. He hadn't cut his hair, not after Haulean had gone through all that trouble of washing it nicely and braiding it back, the younger man the only family that Yoon would recognize for now. They gonna house you near by? It was small talk, he didn't want to be so cold, so clinical like this. Haulean would be fussing at him so badly if he knew how cold he was being to family, to real blood family. But that didn't erase all the years he felt like second best to someone that wasn't even blood. Second best to an elf that, for all intents and purposes, had become Bajie's wife and child in one.

He and his mom had meant nothing compared to that woman. And he hated her for it, a deep, unabating loathing that would never be sated, never satisfied, until he killed her. He had realized that a long time ago. The only way for him to gain true satisfaction in all this, was to kill the older elf. Or die trying. Kirkwall has a good blacksmith, you probably have blades that need seeing to, or a forge to borrow, right?

@Bajie