"thank you." taiyang says and it's abrupt and without immediate context. the truth is, he doesn't see aras very often, and he understands why. but he's gotta shoot his shot on the rare occasion he's managed to meet the white tiger without the prying eyes of his children. "for being there for them when i wasn't." → @ryoshan
Too much had happened to the Xiao Long-Rose family, Aras knew. The death of a mother, the wild depression of the father, the brutal fall of Beacon bringing low two children who should never have even caught the scent of war -- too much, and yet they grew strong for it. Often had the tiger caught himself admiring Ruby’s strength of heart, her will and desire to protect and champion the huntress’ name, applauding Yang’s own hardiness, her tenacity and bravery. Two children, thrust into a too-adult life too young, and yet they burned with a passion, an innate strength like armour.
They were the ones who had lived in light, with or without a ghost by their side. If Aras was to be thanked at all, it ought to be as one thanked the moon: a reflection of true light, and nothing more.
With Taiyang’s words, the tiger dipped his head, softness and a quiet modesty framing the planes of his countenance. What part had he played in the greatness of youth but support, a single beam to lift twin palaces aloft? Though others might, Aras had not done so for the sake of being thanked, for the arrogant claim that he above all had shaped the might of their bones, nor had he sought to usurp the place of the father. Instead, he had settled, a quiet support, the soft shadow, the loyal beast to stay at heel and nudge the hand that trembled. He had done so because it had seemed the right thing to do, and yet Taiyang saw it a great service? A quiet note of joy, soft and gold in light, touched upon the tiger’s heart at the thought, at the acceptance of it all.
“You don’t need to thank me,” the tiger refuted, tail swaying softly behind him. Eyes of mellow gold, near-full of the same care, the same love, held for Yang and Ruby, rose then to meet Taiyang’s own. Though he knew there was much to say, much to deny and humbly accept, it seemed no words would rise from the swirl of emotion, the dance of thought, locked in his mind and breast; none, at least, that could properly encompass the heart of a beast accepted, a pale shadow welcomed at the hearth. “If I was given the chance to return to that decision, I would make the same choice a thousand times over, without hesitation or doubt. Your daughters are remarkable children, and it is because of you, not me, that they are.” A fond smile, built of love and subtle joy, pulled upon the spirit’s features then; wider, perhaps, than those RWBY had drawn from him, breaking the quiet solemnity of his countenance, but no less genuine for it. The knock of a stuttering heart against too-old ribs prompted a truthful admission, a reach for a name he had not thought himself welcome, had not thought appropriate, to use. “If anyone is to be thanked, it should be you. You were the one who allowed me into their lives, who allowed me to remain when you learned of my existence. You permitted this old tiger into your home, your life, and allowed him to even live on the edge of your family.” Aras’ smile pulled truer then, full on love, elation, and honour. “Thank you, for everything...Tai.”
