Duty

I don't own Fell, or any of the characters in it. Wish I did, but I don't.

Short story, Huttser's thoughts after talking to Fell and telling him he must defend the pack. There aren't enough David Clement-Davies stories, so thought I would try to write one.

He hid it well, but I saw the pain in his eyes. Pain, and anger. I know it was the wrong thing to say. The wrong word to use. Must. I shouldn't have ordered him, like I did when he was a cub. The wrong orders. Like when he was on the ice. Yet despite that, he will still help us. He promised. He will not let the pack be harmed. I know that. Fell is my son. He will make a good Dragga, someday. That day is near.

I don't want to say it, but it is so. Larka, daughter, soon I will see you again.

Was I a good father? I tried. I should have tried harder. But I can change nothing now. I am not Palla, could never truly understand what effect I was having on him. And I am too proud to tell him. Too proud, even when I know I will soon be gone.

But the pack must survive. Surely…surely Fell can see that? That I did my duty. I kept the pack safe for as long as I could. That I fought, against Morgra, the Sight, and, at times, the elements themselves, for him. For you, Larka. For Palla. For Khaz, Kipcha, Skop and Bran?

For myself.

Duty. He thinks I don't understand why he is staying. Out of love, not duty. I fought hard out of love. And I can never tell him.

I will die soon, but I won't have failed him. I failed him once, on the ice. I was not strong enough, not even for my own son, to break through the ice. To pull him out of the water. To save him.

I will not fail him again. I will not die without giving him a blessing. If Morgra could curse us through her hate, why should I not bless my own son, through love?