"Silent Treatment"

Tales of Symphonia
Words: 1786
Characters: Kratos Aurion, Dirk, Lloyd Irving (mentioned)

Kratos didn't know which hurt worse- the wounds he sustained in his fight with Lloyd, or the suffocating silence he endured as Lloyd's real father patched him up.

"You don't have to do this. As an angel, my body will heal quickly, even without treatment."

Kratos' words had been spoken almost as a plea when Dirk appeared with a first aid kit. Lloyd and his companions had left to confront Mithos, and Kratos' attempt to leave and recover somewhere solitary was thwarted by his inability to stand without pain. It shot through his abdomen like receiving a punch, and he'd doubled over onto the table. The next thing he knew, he had been carried upstairs and laid out on Lloyd's bed. Dirk was shuffling through his medical supplies, the smell of medicinal herbs filling the room and clouding Kratos' thoughts. Dirk was saying something about internal hemorrhage and types of poultices that could help with the bruising. The scientific name Arnica unalaschensis was thrown around, and if Kratos' thoughts hadn't been so muddled, he might have been able to identify exactly what the plant was. But with the pain, the thick haze of herbal smells, and the burning humiliation of being in such a vulnerable position, it was all he could do just to protest.

Dirk considered Kratos' words for only a moment before he shook his head.

"Aye, that mebbe true, but Dwarven Vow 2 says ne'er abandon someain in need. Sae you're stuck here wi' me until yer wounds are healed."

And for an entire week, that was it.

Besides a few single words here and there as instructions, Dirk didn't say a thing. At the beginning, Kratos didn't feel like making conversation, so he didn't mind the silence. But as the week continued, it became clear that Dirk wasn't staying quiet out of respect toward his patient. Kratos tried to catch his eyes, but Dirk was avoiding eye contact, and when their eyes did meet, the look Dirk gave him held none of the friendliness he usually expressed in his oft-quoted Dwarven Vows. It felt more along the lines of a lesser-known vow- 29, beware the anger of a patient man. Kratos didn't know Dirk well enough to assess his usual patience levels, but anyone could see right now that the Dwarf was angry.

Kratos could only think of one reason for that anger.

Lloyd.

But what was it aboutLloyd? Was Dirk angry about Kratos' initial betrayal of Lloyd and his friends? About his connection with Cruxis and the Desians? About his lies and secrecy to prevent his son from learning the truth about their relationship?

Or… was Dirk afraid of losing Lloyd now that his birth-father was in the picture?

The thought was chilling, and Kratos didn't want to dwell on it. But left with no other human interaction, the thought ran through his mind over and over until eventually he couldn't take it anymore.

"Dirk, I know you don't want to talk to me, but there's something I need to say."

No longer bedridden at that point, Kratos came downstairs for meals, usually eating in silence at the same table where he knew Lloyd had grown up eating. That day's dinner was waiting for him as usual, and Dirk was at the hearth cleaning up the soiled dishes. At the sound of Kratos' voice, he turned and looked up.

"Eat yer supper first. Ye donnae want yer food tae get cold."

"I don't mind. This is important."

Still holding a plate in one hand and a sponge in the other, Dirk stopped scrubbing to consider the statement. After a moment's pause, he sighed and returned the plate to the pot of sudsy water. "Alrecht, what dae ye want?"

Kratos took a deep breath and plunged forward. "I can tell that you're angry with me. I don't begrudge you that; you have plenty of perfectly justified reasons to feel that way. If it's because of my involvement with Cruxis- with the Desians- I understand. If it's for my betrayal of Lloyd and his friends, I understand. If it's for my absence most of Lloyd's life, I understand that too. But I want you to understand, I'm not here to take your job. You are Lloyd's father. You have been for the past fourteen years and you always will be. I don't intend to come between you and Lloyd. He already has a father, and a good one at that. He doesn't need me." Kratos stopped to catch his breath, lowering his gaze to the floor. "Once I'm fully healed, I'm going to leave you and Lloyd to live your lives without my interference. So if the thought of losing Lloyd is what's troubling you, I want you to know that he's yours. You have nothing to be angry about."

There was a pause. Kratos felt his nervousness pricking against his skin, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. He had to force his head back up when Dirk spoke again, and immediately regretted it once he saw the fierceness in the Dwarf's glare.

"Nothin' tae be angry about? Nothin'?! This is exactly why I'm sae angry with ye! Ye donnae get it at all!"

"Wha-?"

Dirk approached Kratos, pointing an accusatory finger up at him. "I know I've nae been a perfect father tae him, but I believe Lloyd has grown intae a fine lad and I'm proud ay him. What is it about him that bothers ye sae much? Dae ye 'hink he's nae smart enough? That he's tae reckless? Is he tae much of a goody-two-shoes fer yer likin'?"

Kratos took a step back, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What are you talking about? I adore Lloyd-"

"Then why are ye sae keen tae be rid ay him?"

The words cut like a knife. "Rid of him?" Kratos repeated. "I don't understand."

Dirk stared for another tense moment before turning away and releasing a long sigh, his shoulders relaxing as if he were breathing out his anger and frustration.

"Ye… keep abandonin' him. Ye left him behind, ye betrayed him, ye appeared only tae gie cryptic clues an' then disappear again like it ne'er happened… ye were ready tae up an' die on him. An' now that he's forgiven ye for all that ye've dain tae him, ye're jist gonnae leave him?"

Kratos' mouth hung open as he processed Dirk's accusations. Lloyd had evidently told his dad more about his journey than Kratos realized. None of what Dirk had said was false, at least in terms of what had happened. But…

"Giving up my life was the only way to ensure that Lloyd's group could make a pact with Origin," Kratos explained. "I was trying to protect Lloyd, to aid him in his quest to create the kind of world he's striving for. He's worked so hard. He deserves that. I'm proud of him."

"Bit nae proud enough tae stay with him?"

Once again, the room filled with tense silence. In contrast to the past few days of little to no eye contact from Dirk, Kratos now found himself under the full force of the Dwarf's stare. It was scathing enough, but what really got to him was the realization that this had been the source of Dirk's behavior the whole time. He hadn't been worried that Kratos would take Lloyd away from him- in fact, the opposite was true. Dirk wanted Kratos to be part of Lloyd's life.

The fact that he had assumed otherwise sent a pang of guilt through Kratos' chest.

"Dirk, I… I'm so sorry."

"Sorry fer what?" Dirk asked, and Kratos realized he should have clarified.

"I'm sorry for… for thinking so poorly of you as to imagine you were jealous. You brought me into your home, took care of me even though I can heal on my own, fed me even though I don't need to eat… I knew you were angry, but instead of asking you what was wrong, I let my wild fantasies take over."

"I'm sorry tae. I let my anger an' frustration gie th' better ay me, an' I treated ye poorly. I should hae been honest frae th' start, scolded ye properly once ye were awake enough tae understand." Dirk looked away. "I ken that Lloyd is a strong lad. I donnae want tae gie in th' way ay his quest to save th' worlds. I'm nae a fighter, I can't gang wi' him an' his group. Stayin' here an' supportin' him at my forge is the best thing I can dae fer him. Bit I've grown sae used tae his presence around th' house these past fourteen years, I wake up every mornin' an' th' realization that I willnae see his smilin' face o' hear his voice makes me want tae turn back o'er an' gang back tae sleep. I miss him, an' it's like an awful weight on my chest 'at makes it hard tae breathe, hard tae move, hard tae dae anythin'. Ev'ry time he comes home, I hope an' pray 'at he's back fer good. It's a selfish, unrealistic fantasy, an' I would ne'er say it out loud tae him. Bit you…"

Kratos took a step forward to close the gap between them. "…I had the chance to be with him," he finished, "and I didn't. I squandered opportunities that Lloyd's real father would've done anything to have. It's no wonder he's so angry with me."

There was a pause, and Dirk finally allowed himself to look at Kratos again. "Ye're nae less his 'real father' than I am. Dwarven Vow 162," he began, "th' best time tae plant a tree was twenty years ago; th' second-best time is now."

He didn't need to interpret the proverb for Kratos' to understand what he was getting at. With a smile, Kratos turned back toward the table and took a seat in front of his plate. Dirk sat across from him, motioning toward the food.

"I told ye earlier, supper'll get cold if ye donnae eat it now."

Kratos looked down at the meal- a simple plate of potatoes and minced meat. He'd made it clear to Dirk early on that he didn't need the food, yet Dirk had cooked proper meals for him every day despite the animosity between them. Maybe it was because of his adherence to the Dwarven vows, or maybe it was because he missed cooking for Lloyd, or… maybe…

"You know," Kratos began as he picked up his fork, "earlier I said that my angel abilities help me heal quickly, but these wounds seem particularly severe. I may not be fully healed for a while- until Lloyd gets back at the very least."

For the first time that evening, Dirk cracked a smile.

"That's tae bad. I guess ye'll be stuck here 'till then, huh?"

"I guess I will."