#axe wolves

Every footstep Axe took felt heavier, and heavier. His legs felt like led. With his helmet concealing his face, he fought against tears. As he walked in a trance, his gaze was locked stalely upon an item resting in his hands.

The empty helmet of Paz Viszla.

He had been given the duty of returning the helmet of the deceased to his child, Ragnar. 

The boy was now an orphan. 

Axe had never been an overly sentimental or touchy chap, but the whole melancholy, lugubrious air of this situation weighed on his heart, and bound him to his grief as a fetter.

Sensing he had entered into the small encampment of Mandalorians that remained, Axe lifted his eyes. 

A child with a blue helmet stood waiting patiently for a return that would not occur. Axe reckoned that the boy couldn’t have been older than twelve. He stopped, and looked down one last time at his comrade’s helmet. 

He could have saved Paz…and because he had not his son was now an orphan. 

“Ragnar Viszla!” Axe called, his voice hoarse. The boy turned his head alertly, and began to wall towards Axe. He was glad that he did not have to see the look on the boy’s face as he approached…and caught sight of his father’s helmet resting in Axe’s trembling hands. 

The boy stood before Axe in dead silence as time slowed to a grievous crawl. Slowly, the child’s shaking hands reached out, and Axe reluctantly placed Paz’s vacant helmet in Ragnar’s hands. 

“…how did he fall?” He whispered quietly. Axe’s heart sunk, and he gingerly knelt on one knee in front of the child.

“As a hero, son.” Axe breathed, his voice full of sorrow. He lifted his helmet, and placed it on the ground beside him so that Ragnar could behold his face. His eyes welled with tears. He laid his hand on Ragnar’s shoulder, and looked hard at him. 

“As a hero.” He solidified. 

Ragnar’s small frame shook violently as he released a sob, and clutched his father’s helmet close. 

“This is the way.” He sobbed. Axe blinked and overdue tears trickled down his face.

“This is the way.” He nodded, stiffening his expression so he would not weep. The sound of the child’s crying wrenched the spirit of Axe Wolves unlike anything he’d ever heard. What would become of the boy now? He was surrounded by his clan, and they acted as a family…but what of a father? A boy needs his father actively in his life; shepherding and teaching him as much as human beings need oxygen to survive. Axe had no heir. He had no children, and had never once regretted it. 

But now. 

Now he saw a child before him who had just suffered the blow of his life. Mandalore was being rebuilt, it could be a beautiful new beginning…for both of them. At that moment, Ragnar fell into Axe’s chest, tenderly cradling his father’s helmet and weeping bitterly. Axe was dumbfounded. No child had ever dared act this way towards him. After a moment of awkwardly doing nothing with his arms…something snapped into place inside of him. Something that had always been there, although lulled to a death-like sleep by bloodshed and violence. An instinct, of sorts, as he reckoned it. He folded his armored arms around Ragnar’s shaking figure, and a gentle hush automatically came from his lips. It shocked him; his own actions being so paternal. Normally he would snap at the child, and tell him to grow up…but not so now. Now he gently held a heart-broken, orphaned boy within the safety of his arms. 

“You’ll be okay, Kid.” He soothed in a nurturing tone new to him. He softly patted his back, and held him tighter. Hearing another wretched sob from the boy set something in stone within his mind. 

He could never be the great specimen of man that Paz Viszla was…but he could sure try. This Foundling would be his, and he would protect him with everything he had. 

I cannot replace you, Viszla. He shut his eyes, and rested his head against  the side of Ragnar’s helmet. But I shall preserve and raise your clan…to the best of my abilities. Grant me your blessing over your Foundling—and let this put your soul forever at rest. 

With this new blazing, devout resolution resolved, he grabbed his helmet with one hand and slid it over his head. He scooped Ragnar up in his arms.