"Despite what you think, I care about everyone within the coven. That means you." It was a truth carefully skirted. While Finnian would have cared about Fraser as a leader, as he does with anyone else under his umbrella, he cared more for this particular male once upon a time. A not-so-distant past that was an integral part of his history, yet it no longer held precedence in this timeline. There was no... them in this timeline. No familiarity, no lingering touches or soft glances. Just distance, just as it was before Fraser died. He shook his head to banish the spiraling thoughts, glancing to the floor, steeling his resolve. He couldn't cave. They couldn't be together in this timeline, either. Finnian knew enough about the timeline's cosmos that he was already disrupting Fraser's life, disrupting his chance at happiness that didn't involve him. After a beat, he finally looked at Fraser. "You're right. I don't know you, not in this timeline– but you don't know me either. My family failed this coven, and they let it rot and made countless people suffer. You say it doesn't deserve to be saved, maybe not, but I can see what it could be, and I'm willing to spill the blood, sweat, and tears needed to rectify their mistakes until the moment it's truly fixed, or I return to my timeline." It was his vow, his sole purpose as the Heir. If he weren't doing this, he'd be lost in this timeline. Maybe there was something he could thank his temperamental father for. Finnian frowned at the bow, stuffing his hands into his pocket with a measured exhale. As much as he didn't want to force someone into a fight under the banner of a coven they despise, he didn't have a choice. The foundation of the coven was too shaky for him to omit anyone who could help in the fight. "Before that battle happens, I'm starting to re-evaluate all of the warriors we have left. Seeing as you so helpfully pointed out that I don't know you, then I don't know the true scope of your abilities, and I can't trust Benedict's blatherings in his reports." There were no other evaluations for the remaining hex-witches or enforcers, made up on the spot that maybe there would be some way he could convince Fraser that there was something about him that was worth getting close to. Even if it was just his fighting abilities, it was a start. Yet, he knew he had to now include everyone else– the exhaustion in his bones already making him dread the fact that he added way more work onto his plate. This was... already pushing his imaginary boundary he had with the other male. "You'll be fighting me, personally," a smug smirk quirked his lips as he shrugged, "unless you're afraid of getting your ass kicked by a self-indulgent First."
"I'll believe it when I see it." Comparing the old coven he learned early on required a certain finesse navigating who not to anger and the mending coven Finnian now built brick by painstaking brick weren't the same. "You start wondering what this city would be like without a coven fucking everything up and there's a point you wonder why your family didn't just give up ever trying to fix what they broke by leaving. There might come a day, Finn, where you will eat your words and follow in your grandparents' and your father's footsteps." Fraser's mind couldn't necessary compute and unlearn the habits drilled into him by his father just because the newest leader threw around claims he cared for each witch under his care. He's personally the type hesitant taking anybody on just their word alone. Promises meant nothing when they were so easily broken without merit or a care in the world. Not only that, expectations weighed heavily on his shoulders as a council member's son. Fray swore Benedict sometimes took time out of his day just to harass the boy and single out his every defect since birth. He knew his father's opinions regarding his earthly magic abilities were downplayed or otherwise given the lowest marks. "Those reports were absolute bullshit. It's clear to anyone there was a fucking bias between me and the blood witch cousin he actually wished I was. God, I hate evaluations." Fraser mumbled. Nothing but a grueling, relentless session that went on continuous hours or that is merely a habit constantly looking at the clock to watch the minutes tick by slowly. However, Finn's request caught him by surprise. A coven leader personally sparring with one of the proclaimed weakest fighters? Needless to say, he was...amused. "I see no problem with that." Fray's eyes took their time running down the other's frame confidently, the arrogance clearly returning once his gaze landed on Finnian's features again. "unless you're afraid of getting your ass kicked by a traitor's lackluster son." He nudged his head toward a door leading to the basement. "As much as I hate my life, doesn't mean I want to break any nice shit." Heading toward the door and waiting until Finn followed, he led the way climbing down the stars until reaching the bottom, the training room illuminated by the lights he flickered on. Fraser slipped off his jacket as he spoke, revealing his bare arms while his fingers rolled up his already short sleeves to his shoulders. "I used to call this the training bear pit because watching me and Jade spar was essentially entertainment for my pops." Various equipment lined the wall for exercise, weaponry, anything useful an enforcer or a hex witch would need. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the large boulder utilized for magical weight-lifting on his end. Fraser did not hesitate sensing the vibration within the rock and jutted out his hand before his whole arm swung forward, sending it flying in Finn's direction. "Catch."











