Foolish boy

Last time I visited Hyrind the first drops of snow and the bone biting winds of the winter had started to dance through its darkened walls. The faces that looked upon me as I struggled to hold back tears were as winter itself had lodged itself in their eyes, except for a few.
 
In my father's eyes I saw a look of resignation and defeat as he bent the knee to Gudrun. My mother's eyes burned with the anger of a thousand suns, but it was not towards me they stared, but rather at the man who stared at the mud beneath him with knee upon it.
 
And Hannah, who was but a sweet child wept like the early storms of the Spring and it was when my eyes crossed hers that my own tears couldn't be held back any longer, much I tried in vain to hold them back.
 
It was then that Gudrun spoke to me for the first time: "Rise your head boy. You haven't lost anything, your family is safe and you will have a new family to contend with. Next you set foot in Hyrind you will be a man your parents can be proud of, I promise you that." - those words still echo in my thoughts.
 
I despised him at first, for the first years, I often refused to speak to him and avoided being in the same place as he and on my thirteenth birthday I tried to run back home. With nothing but a longsword far too heavy and big for myself and some shabby leathers and bread on my back I started making my way north until I was ambushed by a pack of wolves.
 
In a panic I dropped my sword and ran until I happened upon a small burrow, where I tried to hide and kick the wolves' heads as they attempted to bite me. As they attempted to bite and growled I didn't even notice the sound of the hooves pounding the damp grass as Gudrun, his eldest son and a few of his men quickly disposed of them. It was only when he called out my name that I realized he had saved me.
 
I crawled out of the hole, mud on my hands and knees and blood staining my tunic when I saw his fierce eyes looking down at me from his horse more ferociously than any wild creature. "Foolish boy" - he called me - "what did you think would happen if you traveled north mid-winter?"
 
Whether it was because of fear or foolishness, or maybe a mix of both, I shouted at him for the first time: "Why do you care? You're not my family!". My faint bravery quickly faded when I saw him dismount and I clenched my shoulders and closed my eyes expecting the same treatment he had given his other sons when they disappointed him, but instead I felt the warmth of his fur cloak and his strong arms embrace me: "Foolish boy..." - was all he said. It was all that needed to be said for me to understand that I had not lost a family, but gained one.
 
Our ride back home was quiet. No one spoke of that day again and rarely did I ever see such warmth from Gudrun again, but from that day onwards I dedicated myself to not only becoming a better man, but also surpassing his expectations. Carrying more than I should, wielding blades larger than I could, running longer than they could, forging iron with my own hands. I was foolish enough to believe I could do it all.
 
It is probably foolish to throw myself at the claws of the man who broke my father, that part of me has not changed, but the boy... the boy has died.