Heimili and Vorn

Heimili and his wife probably had a rather decent relationship.
By the standards of Ice Kingdom.
Basically, their match was arranged and Heimili, at the time, thought nothing of it. Arranged matches are very usual to the Ice Kingdom. It's like questioning whether you can breathe air.
And Vorn also thought nothing of it beyond it being her duty. Her and Heimili's families wanted something from each other and they were the coin spent to link them together.
So they just expected a very normal IceWing marriage. No love, just duty.
And... well, when they first met and wedded, they were dutiful (Vorn was frankly disappointed because Heimili wasn't exactly strong and mighty). And in the first few days, that's what they were. But... in the first few months, Vorn saw how untiring and determined Heimili was trying to make this marriage work.
And while she took a certain amount of that for granted... she noticed he even paid attention to smaller details of her. Like how she favored one spear over a collection of them and always sharpened that one for her.
She would grant him a smile or two as compensation.
And when Heimili saw, he pointed out how beautiful her smiles were.
And that maybe she should smile more... until he realized he was being presumptuous and told her he was speaking above his status and he meant no harm.
And that if she wanted to rip off a claw for his arrogance, he would not blame her.
And Vorn, feeling lenient (she thinks) that day, told him that she would not and that she would take his words into consideration.
But Heimili noticed she smiled more afterwards.
She took her duties seriously as a noble captain of the guards for the Ice Kingdom (honestly, if we're talking spiritual parents, Icefyre probably takes more from her than Heimili).
And she took her duty to her husband quite well, having a mindset that wanted to defend the Ice Kingdom and its citizens as best as she could. For glory, yes, but she worked tirelessly to improve the defenses of the Ice Kingdom because the Great Ice Cliff did not mean laziness would be excused.
And she slowly grew more comfortable with Heimili. And started to notice things by looking at him. He liked to hum to himself as sprucing up their place in the Palace. She could even remember and hum the song herself after awhile. He loved snowy owls more than gyrfalcons. He could be stone-faced at times, but he ate his meat slowly, she observed "like a squirrel who nibbles a nut without the sound."
That last fact always filled her with a sorrow she couldn't put to words.
How much invisible labor she never saw until she paid attention to him.
Years passed. Heimili would, at times, hear Vorn hum a familiar song in his hearing. He always shook his head. Why would someone like Vorn listen to him? He was just her husband and nothing more. Then Vorn showed him a place at night where he could watch snowy owls fly through the forests. He, in turn, brought her smiles and owl feathers. She, in turn, begun to eat more quietly, though Heimili always chalked it up to a flight of imagination and the idea that he was eating too loud.
They begun to fall into a familiar pattern, though they never confronted each other about the changes in the other's behavior.
And then Vorn was with egg eventually. And laid it out eventually.
They both hoped for a female heir to continue her bloodline. Though Vorn spoke that she would not mind a male in passing. They could always make more. And left unspoken was the idea that she had room for more in her heart.
And once the egg hatched, after the first bit of disappointment that it was male, they pointed out that he was a strong boy. With strong arms and a chest that beat fiercely upon first breath. They named him Hjerte, after "heart."
Vorn usually was practical with her child, making sure he trained every day since his birth. But sometimes, she would be lenient and allowed Hjerte some time with his father.
Sometimes, she even gave him breaks under the gist of "viewing what your food will be."
And was ready to hand him her favored spear once he came of age.
I'd say Heimili, Vorn and Hjerte, while not the best case scenario, is probably a very neutral one that brushes with best case.
Heimili is proud of his son. Is proud of how his wife handles his son, even through how much he cries during training because of her shouting.
Vorn doesn't realize how much shouting at her son hurts him. She think this is part of IceWing upbringing. Her mother was the same with her. As was Heimili's with his upbringing.
Hjerte still loves his parents. They show him small kindnesses. They sometimes are silent and don't sneer at him like other IceWing parents with their children. This is the best he hopes to expect and tries to come to terms with it.
Heimili still thinks this is love.
Vorn thinks this is love.
They both don't see how much this is damage building up.
Pride with a child is not love with a child.
Hjerte just wants to make his parents proud of him.
He does not expect anything more.
Then. Vorn dies.
In a NightWing raid upon their borders.
Her final thoughts are not of her kingdom as the spear plunges into her heart, but of her husband and son.
She hopes they will forgive her. She fought only to protect them.
She fought to do her duty.
Heimili was immediately grief-stricken as he heard.  Hjerte mourns of his mother, not quite as someone loving and kind, but as someone he must avenge through blood and violence.
They both blame the NightWings. Heimili hardens his heart to them all.
They miss her dearly, though they don't have the words for it. The Ice Kingdom does not allow for mourning. It allows only for vengeance.
Heimili tells his son that they will avenge Vorn.
And that he will protect him, in place of his mother.
They speak of oaths of vengeance every night. They stew in the centuries-long hatred of NightWings. They want only to kill them all for what the nightbloods stole from them.
Years later, Hjerte dies in Darkstalker's invasion. A NightWing murdered them while Heimili was dealing with another. He was barely 7. Heimili sobs as he holds his boy's little corpse, uncaring if someone killed him on the spot.
Hjerte wasn't all an IceWing of that age should've been. But he was Heimili's little son. And Heimili loved him to no end.
Heimili was spotted by a fellow IceWing. Taken to the Palace, shamed for not continuing to kill after "all he lost was a son."
He is questioned of his loyalty to the Ice Kingdom. He merely says that he is tired. They call him weak. They strip him of land and titles and banish him.
He is an exile.
He has nothing.
He is not allowed to even bury his son.
Heimili is without a home.
It says something that even the nicer IceWings at the hearing just say that Hjerte "died bravely."
"He killed and died for the Ice Kingdom as any child of ice should."
"I saw him take out three nightbloods. He died strong. Be proud of that."
And all Heimili can do is weep and snarl and wonder how else he can mourn. Three or three hundred, it wouldn't matter. I lost a son. For what? Pride? I am proud of a corpse now.
And wonders if killing every last NightWing out there will bring back his little boy.
And he slumps as he realizes it doesn't matter. Killing NightWings didn't bring back Vorn. It won't bring back Hjerte.
Vengeance is empty in the end.
He takes his exile calmly.
He is alone.
And considers smashing the egg.
Almost bright as night, tinted in midnight blues.
He wishes to smash it. He might feel better. He does not stop because it is amoral. He stops because it is futile.
He takes it in, maybe he will decide to smash it later.
Maybe it will bring him fleeting joy.
Maybe the crack of a nightblood to be born against the cave stones will vent his rage.
Every time he wants to, the shades of his family rise.
And he reminds himself there is no point.
He realizes it's cold.
Remembers the fur of other animals.
Kills and skins animals and wraps the egg in furs.
Wonders if he should sit on the egg like birds do.
Tries it out. Gets uncomfortable after a half-hour.
Realizes it's even colder now than before thanks to that. Heimili kicks himself for that.
Wonders why he even cares if this egg is cold or warm or whatever.
Has nothing better to do.
Attempts to make a fire.
His first fire chars his claws a bit, turning them black.
Places the egg near the fire.
Continues to feed the flames.
And that's how a NightWing that came to affect so much later hatched.