PFA's NTWF RP stories

[PFA]

Another collab with Shinko! \ o / This is a sequel to Feathers, Fun and Friends, Sibling Rivalry on Shinko's thread, aaannnddd more directly, Again.

Ashes to Ashes

SPOILER: Click to show

Anders was dozing in the phoenix mews, the side of his face pillowed against Mirja’s soft feathers. He’d only come into the mews to see to it that she was thoroughly fed and spend some time with her, but sheer exhaustion had gotten the better of him. The past few months had been a waking nightmare for everyone in Solis. As if the drought and ensuing famine wasn’t bad enough, a massive malaria outbreak had struck Corvus. Most of the plants normally used in the curative potions had died for lack of water during the first two years of the drought.

Though the Flight Lieutenant was not himself ill, he was painfully overworked. At least a third of the military forces in Solis had been struck down, leaving the healthy few to take up their slack. Anders had just returned from a double-patrol, the third in as many days his wing had been forced to fly. Not helping the issue at all was the fact that the fireknight was injured. A crutch lying on the ground near Mirja and the awkward angle at which he was holding his right leg gave evidence to this. It wasn’t a horrible injury, just a sprained knee that he’d taken when a new recruit in their wing almost knocked him out of the saddle during a training exercise. The newbie had been given a scathing lecture by Ander’s Right Wedge, Cai Shahar, and was grounded until enough fireknights were free to give him remedial lessons in pulling his blows during practice. But the damage was done. There were simply no healers free to fix a minor knee injury with the plague raging, so Anders had to endure. He didn’t need to be able to walk to ride his phoenix, so he wasn’t excused from flying patrols either.

The injury, overworking, and just plain stress of fretting for his wingmates and others he knew who were ill conspired to swamp the fireknight as soon as he let himself relax against Mirja’s back. His phoenix didn’t mind, simply reaching up to her feed bucket with her long neck and eating from it while lying on the floor so Anders could sleep.

It was while he was resting that a boy of thirteen years wandered into the mews, his eyes distant and his footsteps heavy. Young Lord Reynold seemed to hesitate for a moment, but cautiously moved closer to Mirja’s stall, peering inside. Mirja had glanced around at the boy, tilting her head and giving a soft trill of concern.

“Anders…?” Reynold spoke up shakily, as if he were fighting back tears.

The fireknight flinched a bit, turning and looking blearily in the direction of the voice that had called his name. He pushed himself up so that he was sitting upright, and his eyes cleared so that he realized who’d woken him.

“Reynold?” he said, looking up at the boy with concern. Reynold’s breath was hitching, and in spite of the fact that the light from the door was behind him, there was an odd shimmer in his green eyes that immediately set off alarm bells in Anders. “Reynold, what’s the matter, are you alright?”

“I…” Reynold hesitated, his body shaking a little. And then, “C-can I sit with you for a while?”

“Of course you can,” Anders said immediately, pushing himself further upright and moving his crutch out of the way. “Just sit on my left, I sprained my right knee the other day and you don’t want to jar it accidentally.”

He gave the soft hay on the floor of the mews a pat, indicating that Reynold could join him. Reynold nodded mutely, stepping into the stall and taking a seat beside his friend. Anders hesitantly reached sideways, and put his left arm around the boy’s shoulders. Reynold seemed to appreciate the gesture, immediately leaning into the hug for comfort.

Anders pulled the boy a little closer, growing more and more worried. He’d seen Reynold when he was upset before, and this was not how he usually acted. The lord’s second son was prone to acting out his emotions with frustration and anger rather than sadness, and even when he cried it was usually with an edge of bitterness.

Torn, but not wanting to press too hard, he simply said softly, “I’m here, Reynold. Take all the time you need.”

As if to reinforce this, Mirja turned her head back, stretching her neck past Anders to place her head in Reynold’s lap. Reynold smiled weakly, stroking Mirja’s head for a while, helping to calm him down a little. He was silent for some time, before finally he spoke.

“It’s… m-my mother,” Reynold explained slowly. He hesitated again, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Sh-she… she’s gone.”

“Oh, Woo…” Anders swallowed hard, putting both arms around the boy now. “Reynold, I’m so, so sorry.”

Of course the fireknight had heard Lady Satine was ill- it was hard to keep something like that a secret around Jade Manor. But he hadn’t thought she’d really…

Lord Everett must be beside himself, Anders thought, but immediately dismissed it. Everett was not here- Reynold was. Anders knew that he was not proof against the grief that the young boy must be feeling, but at the very least he could give Reynold a shoulder to cry on.

Reynold had fallen silent again, thoughts swirling in his mind. And then, the emotion finally overcoming him, Reynold wailed, leaning into Anders and sobbing wordlessly. Anders tightened his grip around the young boy’s shoulders, feeling as if his heart were going to be torn from his chest at the obvious anguish in the young boy’s voice.

“I’m here, Reynold, I’ve got you,” he murmured softly. “I know it hurts. It’s okay, you can cry as much as you need.”

Mirja, for once, did not make any of her usual piping or trilling calls. Instead she was silent, pressing her feathered cheek against the top of Reynold’s head as if in a hug of her own. Again, they lapsed into silence for a while, Reynold just taking what comfort he could in the reassuring arms of his friend.

“I-I just…” he whimpered at length, wiping away tears with his sleeve. “I-I can’t believe she’s r-really gone…”

For a time, Anders wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, in a very gentle voice, he said, “I know, Reynold. And there’s nothing anyone can really say to make it better. People will say things like ‘she’s with the Woo now’ or ‘she’s not in pain anymore’ and that’s all well meant, but it doesn’t take away the hurt. Lady Satine loved you, and you loved her, and…”

The fireknight fought back a lump in his throat. His voice hoarse, he went on, “I know it’s not much Reynold, but I’m here. I’ll listen, if you want to talk about it, or just be with you if you need company. Whatever I can do to help you, all you have to do is ask.”

Reynold sniffed, managing a weak smile. “Th-thanks, Anders. Y-you’re a good friend.”

Anders smiled back crookedly. “I do the best I can.” Wiping a stray tear from the young boy’s face with his thumb he added, “But hey, don’t underrate yourself. You’re a good friend too. Isn’t he, Mirja?”

The phoenix chirruped, bumping her cheek against Reynold’s. Reynold stroked Mirja’s head appreciatively, though he was still lost in his own thoughts.

“I… I thought she was going to get better,” he admitted. “I d-didn’t think…”

Anders gritted his teeth, frustration and helplessness surging through him. “It’s the drought,” he said softly. “The medicinal plants the healers needed to cure this illness have mostly been killed off by the lack of rain. It’s… possible to recover without them, but it’s very hard. But I don’t think anyone could have seen this coming regardless.”

The fireknight could have also mentioned that Lady Satine, being originally from Veresia and not Corvus, would be particularly susceptible to this horrific illness that emerged from the southern swamplands. After all, Anders was constantly afraid for the health of his Right Wedge, Cai, an escaped Courdonian slave, for the same reason. But it wasn’t exactly something Reynold would want or need to hear right then.

“I hate this stupid drought,” Reynold remarked bitterly. “I-I wish it would just rain. It always rains.”

“You won’t hear any arguments from me,” Anders said ruefully. “I nearly got myself and my Right Wedge immolated in the Kinean wildfires last year because everything is so dry. I miss the rainy Corvus too. It’s not even as bad here as it is in Kine- there are people there starving to death even as they go out to try and make the barren fields yield anything edible.”

“It just makes people suffer, and d-die, a-and I hate it,” Reynold continued, making a face. “It’s not fair…”

Anders knew that Reynold was mostly looking for a scapegoat, someone or something to be angry at to redirect the grief that was tearing away at him. The drought wasn’t a horrible outlet for his anger- at least he wouldn’t be shouting at the healers or anyone else whose feelings might actually be hurt. He ran a hand over the young boy’s hair absently. Reynold wasn’t trembling as hard as he’d been when he first came into the mews, but he was still quivering enough that Anders felt moved to try and soothe him somehow.

“I hate it too,” the fireknight replied. “And I’m sure everyone in the manor will hate it, when word spreads of this. Your mother was a wonderful, kind person, and a lot of people loved her.”

“Y-yeah,” Reynold agreed, shuddering a little at the mention. “I… I’ve never seen Father get so upset.”

Anders winced. “This is the second time he’s had to go through the pain of losing his wife- I’m sure it’s hitting him hard. Has he… has he ever told you about Lady Cassandra?”

“...A little bit,” Reynold replied. “But he doesn’t talk about it much.”

“I guess that’s not surprising,” Anders admitted. “I don’t know that I’d want to talk about something that painful either. But from what I heard, he was very reluctant to get remarried after his first wife died. Lady Satine helped to mend that pain, so losing her… I can’t imagine. He’s going to need a lot of support from his family, I’m certain of that much.”

Reynold was silent at first, as if unsure how to react. After a moment, he mumbled, “...I guess.”

“Something the matter?” Anders asked, tilting his head.

“I don’t know, I guess… I’ve never really thought about Father being sad before,” Reynold replied vaguely.

The fireknight smiled thinly, shaking his head. “Lord Everett is a strong man, and a good lord… but he’s still only human.” Anders shrugged. “If your father didn’t get sad, that would be… a little scary honestly. It would mean he didn’t really care about people. That’s not the kind of person I’d want responsible for the lives of an entire region. You need a certain amount of empathy and compassion to be a good leader- but that also means making yourself vulnerable to things like sadness and grief. If you love people, that means it hurts when you lose them.”

Reynold seemed to think on this for a moment. “...I guess you’re right.”

Anders tightened his hug for a few seconds. “It’s okay if you can’t really process it right now. The intimacies of leadership are a conversation for another day- though I’d be more than happy to discuss it with you later if you like. For now just… try to be patient with your father. He’s hurting just as much as you are, if not more so. I think he really loved Lady Satine.”

“...Yeah, I… I guess.” Reynold gave a small nod. “Okay.”

A thought seemed to occur to Anders, and his face took on a look of horror. “Wait, wasn’t… wasn’t Joffery out of town? Does he know about this?”

Reynold frowned, memories playing through his mind at the mention. “Yeah… he just got back. He was upset, too.”

Anders winced. “Oh Woo… to come home to something like that… Poor Joffery.”

“I think… I think Luella’s looking after him. She was pretty upset too, though,” Reynold remarked. “So was Samuel, and… I-I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“For now… probably nothing,” the fireknight replied. “Your family needs time to grieve. They can figure out what to do next once the pain is a little less all-consuming.” Anders put a finger under Reynold’s chin, forcing the boy to look up and meet his eyes. “And hey, that includes you, young Master Jade. You don’t need to try to make any plans or work out what’s going to happen from here on out- not right this second. For the moment, it’s okay to let others be strong for you.”

Reynold just looked at Anders for a while, his green eyes still wet with tears. Finally, he leaned into the hug again, wordlessly crying into his friend’s shirt. The fireknight let him, murmuring reassurances and rubbing the young boy’s back to calm him. Mirja lifted her head away from them, holding it high in the air and beginning to pipe a low, mournful song. A second phoenix joined her, then a third, and before long all of the phoenixes in the mews were singing in somber harmony, as if they too grieved for Satine. Their voices carried out over the mews, audible within Jade Manor and for a decent ways into the rest of Solis. Anyone who didn’t yet know the tragedy that had befallen the Jades no doubt would soon.

Anders knew he couldn’t take Reynold’s pain away, much though he wished he could. But he could be there for him, hold him, and let him know that he wasn’t alone. So the fireknight did just that.

[PFA]

We interrupt these feels to bring you the healthiest 'ship of terrible people ever created. 8D Happy Valentine's! (Thanks to Celestial for her help with the dialogue)

What is Love

SPOILER: Click to show

“As you can see, even throughout history, we can see examples of cultures intermingling with…”

Professor Leland Bardsley trailed off at the sound of snickering students, which was immediately followed by frantic shushing. The professor raised an eyebrow, glancing away from the whiteboard and at the class. The classroom fell dead silent, the students staring straight ahead as if nothing was wrong.

“Is something funny?” Professor Bardsley asked, with a slight edge to his otherwise level voice.

The students shook their heads.

“Good.” Professor Bardsley smiled, returning his attention to the whiteboard. “As I was saying, you can see from the examples we read that cultures will adapt according to the change of…”

The snickering returned, though quieter this time. Bardsley fell silent again, eyes flashing beneath his glasses as he glanced back at the students. Again, dead silence. He smiled, though this time it came off as decidedly more sinister.

“Come now. I’m sure whatever it is can be shared with the rest of the class, can’t it?” he crooned. When he got no response, he continued. “Don’t be shy now.”

Professor Bardsley scanned the room for the troublemaker, his eyes eventually falling on Jordan Phelps, whose hand was not-so-discreetly hidden under the desk. Ah, that Jordan, always had to be the rebel. The professor strode up to the student, holding out an expectant hand.

“Surely you can show me?” Professor Bardsley asked.

Jordan stared silently up at Bardsley with defiant eyes, before finally relenting, pulling out a folded up piece of note paper. Professor Bardsley took the note eagerly, unfolding it to see its contents.

He was expecting something derogatory. Well, perhaps it was meant to be. But mostly, he just found it… incredibly baffling.



It was a crudely-drawn picture of himself and the author of the book they were studying—Dr. Diana Pallada—their arms around each other and professing their mutual love. Professor Bardsley just stared at it for a moment, trying to process this.

“And… what, exactly, is this supposed to be?” he finally questioned.

“Everyone knows that’s the real reason we’re reading history books in anthropology class,” came Jordan’s snide reply.

This prompted some more tentative snickers from the class, but for once, Professor Bardsley didn’t react, instead dwelling on Jordan’s assertion. He did actually know Dr. Pallada—he’d met her during the mafia takeover of the town—and he respected her greatly. She was the only person he knew who understood him, who shared his outlook and had helped him cope with being different. He enjoyed spending time with her more than anything else, but love? It had to be a joke, right?

He realized he was blushing. He cleared his throat awkwardly, folding the paper back up and stashing it away in his pocket. “Please focus on the lesson.”

As Professor Bardsley returned to the whiteboard, he could hear some of the students tittering. Oh ‘Woo, this was going to do a number on his reputation, wasn’t it? In a wave of frustration, he tapped harshly on the whiteboard with his marker, getting the class’ attention. “Focus.”

Silence. Professor Bardsley smiled.

“Now then, as I was saying…”

---

The day went on as usual. The rest of his classes went mostly without incident, much to his relief. Afterwards, however, he had a meeting with Winter’s Wrath, which were usually aggravating enough on their own with the addition of the former Abominable Aifam members. And today, it only got worse.

“Well, it looks like everyone’s here,” Nathan said, looking around the room. “Should we get started?”

“I suppose so. Although,” Professor Bardsley replied, “perhaps we should wait until Dr. Pallada gets here?”

“Ugh, seriously?” Piper retorted. “She’s not even a part of this mafia.”

Professor Bardsley frowned. “Of course she is. She’s declared her allegiance to us.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Travis spoke up, much to Bardsley’s chagrin. “Juan just wants to make out with his girlfriend while the rest of us make the important decisions. You’re such a bad boy, Juan.”

“That is not true,” Professor Bardsley insisted. “Also, she’s a ghost.”

“No, I think Travis is right,” Hermia added with an amused smile. “It’s obvious how much you love her.”

“It’s not love.” Bardsley scowled. “That’s impossible.”

“Please. We’ve all seen the way you look at her,” Hermia continued. “Why don’t you just admit it already?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being in love,” Nathan offered. “She could make your favorite sandwich for you and everything!”

“Wha— no, that’s not—” Professor Bardsley felt himself blushing again. “I don’t want her to make me a sandwich, I just—”

“I think he’s right, actually,” Lindsey added. Oh ‘Woo, even Lindsey was getting in on this? “I mean, not the sandwich thing so much, but I mean, love isn’t a bad thing.”

Alma nodded tentatively. “Love is a wonderful thing.”

“Seriously, everyone can see it,” Piper grumbled. “So why don’t you just go kiss her or something, and we can—”

“Enough!” Professor Bardsley finally snapped. “It’s not love! I’m a sociopath, I can’t— it’s just not, alright?”

There was silence for a moment. And then, Travis decided to speak. “Poor Juan, he’s just in denial. But don’t worry, you’ll come to terms with your feelings sooner or later.”

“Anyway, can we please move on?” Professor Bardsley groaned, massaging his temples. Arguing with these idiots was meaningless. “Let’s just… get on with it.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Piper agreed, rolling her eyes.

“Right, yeah.” Nathan cleared his throat. “Now then, I noticed that the townspeople lately have been…”

---

After the meeting, the mafiosos went their separate ways, off to handle their own assigned tasks. Professor Bardsley in particular went to track down a particularly troublesome individual who hadn’t been paying his dues to the mafia, dragging Alma along with him to keep her in line.

“Excuse me,” Professor Bardsley said as they approached their target in the grocery store parking lot. “Are you Ethan Moore?”

The man, Ethan, tensed, nearly dropping his groceries. “I-I… wh-what do you want?”

“According to our records, you’ve fallen nearly two hundred dollars short of your expected dues.” Professor Bardsley gave an eerily pleasant smile, reaching for the pistol in his pocket. “Care to explain?”

“I-I’m so sorry, money is really tight, I-I barely have enough to pay for myself,” Ethan insisted.

“Is that so?” Professor Bardsley gestured to the bags of groceries Ethan was loading into his trunk. “You don’t look that badly off to me.”

The man paled. “I, er…”

“So why don’t you tell me again,” Professor Bardsley said, cocking his pistol, “where our money is?”

“Please, it… it will be easier if you just give it to us,” Alma added, though it sounded more like a plea than anything else. “Don’t make it difficult.”

“B-but I… I don’t have the money,” Ethan whimpered, nearly crushing his groceries from fear. “I don’t have it, I swear!”

“You don’t, hm? That’s such a shame,” Professor Bardsley cooed, calmly taking a step closer. “If you can’t pay us, then perhaps we’ll just have to take something else…”

“Stop right there, prettyboy!”

Professor Bardsley scowled, looking in the direction the voice. It was the rebellion—of course it was the rebellion—coming in with their own weapons blazing. Ethan made a break for it while he had the chance, and Alma made a nervous squeak and ducked for cover. Some help she was.

“Must you people always ruin my fun?” Bardsley scoffed.

“With your sick definition of fun? You bet we do,” spat Sister Lucille, training a gun on him. “Careful, guys. No sign of the crazy ghost girlfriend yet, but keep an eye out.”

“First off, how dare you speak of Dr. Pallada that way,” Professor Bardsley growled. “Secondly, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Not your girlfriend? Puh-lease, professor,” said Leopold Endicott, with a flip of his sparkling hair. “We’ve all seen you two together, and believe me, you got CHEMISTRY.”

Professor Bardsley sputtered, turning an embarrassing shade of red at the assertion. “You— what?!”

“Oh yeah, you get on like a house on fire, and you're just as murderous too,” Lucille agreed wryly.

“Look, she’s an excellent comrade, but we’re not— argh.” Professor Bardsley stopped himself, massaging his forehead in frustration. Arguing with his comrades was bad enough, but arguing with the rebellion was just an exercise in futility. “Can we just get to the point?”

“The point,” Lucille replied, “is that you should leave the man alone, you [bleep].”

Professor Bardsley narrowed his eyes. As much as he wanted to teach these insolent whelps a lesson, the Sister was right—Dr. Pallada wasn’t here, and he didn’t bring anything with him to deal with ghosts. The rebellion, however, had very real guns, and he wasn’t particularly keen on being killed a second time.

“…One week,” he grumbled, glaring in the direction Ethan had run off to. “You get one more week to bring us the money, but that’s it. Understand?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Ethan whimpered, nodding frantically from his hiding place.

“It’ll have to do.” Lucille kept her gun trained on him, but gestured for him to leave. “Now get your sorry [bleep] out of here.”

He hated being ordered around by the rebellion, but Professor Bardsley could see that he didn’t have much choice in the matter. So finally, he relented, stalking off angrily. Alma followed suit, mouthing a quick “thank you” to the rebellion before leaving.

---

When Professor Bardsley returned home that day, he was lost in deep thought. First his students, then his own mafia comrades… even the rebellion was trying to convince him that he was in love with Dr. Pallada. He just didn’t understand it. Didn’t they realize what he was? He was a sociopath, incapable of empathy or any real compassion toward another human being. An emotion so powerful as love was far beyond what his capacity.

It had to be.

“I… I can’t. I can’t keep pretending I’m something I’m not.”

“...What? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t love you, Carol. I never have, and… I don’t think I ever will.”

He gave a heavy sigh as the memories came back to him. It was back in high school when he’d first realized he was a sociopath, when he realized that he didn’t actually care for anyone he’d considered his “friends” before then. Even his girlfriend, who he’d dated for an entire semester, meant nothing to him. That was the entire reason he knew he was a sociopath, and his entire life had changed from that moment onward.

He didn’t want to be wrong. He couldn’t be wrong. But at the same… Dr. Pallada wasn’t like Carol. Carol was a naïve fool, she never could have understood who he really was, but Diana Pallada did. She understood him perfectly, sometimes even better than he understood himself. He enjoyed every minute in her presence, and there was no one he would rather spend time with.

He’d never cared about another person this much before. Not Carol, not Lindsey… but could it really be love?

“Is something on your mind, Professor Bardsley?”

Professor Bardsley looked in the direction of the voice, noticing that Dr. Pallada had entered the room while he wasn’t paying attention. As he looked at her, strange feelings welled up inside of him, feelings he had never felt before. It was so very surreal, but so profound. Could it really be possible?

“Dr. Pallada, I was just…” He paused, wondering what he should say. Perhaps, he realized, it was best just to tell the truth. “I’m just a little… confused.”

“How very remarkable. What could a great man such as yourself possibly be confused about?” Pallada floated around him. “Clearly this must be a very troubling matter for you, and one that I as a fellow academic must do her best to try to alleviate your confusion. So, what is the query that is stumping you?”

“Do you think…” Professor Bardsley fumbled, realizing he was blushing again. ‘Woo, this was embarrassing—the fearsome Leland Bardsley reduced to a stuttering fool. “Is it possible for, ah… for a sociopath to fall in love?”

Dr. Pallada seemed surprised by the question, thinking on this for a moment. “While I am hardly a psychologist, nor do I claim to be an expert on the matter of love, as my specialised field of subject is historical study, which actually does contain many cases of love, though in my personal opinion this love can be interpreted as an excuse to further their own political gains or justify irrational decisions, there can be an argument that whatever love they had was, as is termed by the more poetic members of society, ‘real love’…” She frowned and shook her head. “It appears I got off on a tangent. Returning to your previous question, I say it is within the realms of possibility. I mean… sociopaths such as you or I am human and must be subject to similar emotions.”

The ghost seemed to stop and think, and for a moment, the great Dr. Pallada appeared uncertain. “Or at least you are human, Professor Bardsley. I am an ex-human. But nevertheless, I believe my point still stands. While it is less probable than any so-called ‘normal’ person, a sociopath feeling love is not impossible either.” Her eyes behind her glasses acquiring a curious glint. “Is there… do you have a reason for your question?”

Professor Bardsley was silent at first, thinking on this. He was sure it was impossible, but if Dr. Pallada said it wasn’t, then… maybe it was possible, after all? These emotions still felt unnatural to him, and it was something he was hesitant to admit to… but he’d gotten as far as he had by being honest. He had to say something.

“I’m not sure, but…” he spoke slowly. “It doesn’t make any sense, but I’ve never felt this way before, and I…”

He could feel his heart pounding, his body shaking as he took careful steps closer to Dr. Pallada. He hadn’t been this scared since he was found out for being in the mafia, or even since he first found out what he was… but at the same time, it felt so right.

Pallada hovered closer just as he approached her, the expression on her face softening from the harsh, smug look she always wore to something more gentle. She opened her mouth to speak but then closed it, waiting for what he had to say.

“Dr. Pallada, I think I…” He took a deep breath, making an effort to take hold of her ghostly hand. “Diana, I… I think I might love you.”

A pause. And then, Dr. Pallada broke into a grin. “I was hoping you would say that.”

Professor Bardsley blinked in surprise. “You were?”

“Of course.” She smiled, focusing so she should take hold of Bardsley’s other hand. Her fingers solidified around his. “I have been struggling with the same emotions and questions you have, hence why I put so much thought into it. And… I believe it is correct to say, based on the primary evidence, I love you too.”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say, exactly. In fact, he probably should have expected that response, considering how she had been acting around him for the past several months. Either way, it was enough to bring an awkward, but genuine smile to Professor Bardsley’s face. Was this what reciprocated love felt like? It was so unique to him, and more than a little baffling, but he couldn’t say he disliked it. In fact, beneath his apprehensions, he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so genuinely happy in his life.

“So,” he said with a small laugh, “I guess Richem was right.”

“As they say, even a broken clock is correct twice a day. However, one case of him being right does not equal in everything he says being valid,” Pallada said. Her shoulders shook as she gave off a small laugh and her face split into a grin. “Would you… perhaps like to conduct and observe the populace of this town together? I’ll give you your choice of subject.”

Professor Bardsley smiled. “I’d like that.”

And with that, the two of them set off together. Professor Bardsley wasn’t entirely sure how it was possible, or what this would mean for his future… but as long as it involved Diana, he was willing to take the chance.

Lots of characters are cameoed in this so uhh *dumps some tags in a spoiler box*

SPOILER: Click to show

Nova, Lizica, Jayeee, Birdy, Ginz ❤, Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff), Liou

[PFA]

And finally, a fic about Jeniver and her husband! \ o / Thanks to Lizzie for their help with some of the dialogue.

Moving On

SPOILER: Click to show

"I don't think it's a good idea, my lord."

"She's of marrying age, Charles," Everett replied flatly. "In fact, she's been of marrying age for years now."

"Yes, but of all options, this?" Charles questioned. "With all due respect, my lord, I... I'm afraid it might be too much for her to handle."

"I've already spoken to Jeniver about it. She's agreed to go out and meet him," Everett told him. Frowning, he continued. "Believe me, I do understand your concern. And... if she doesn't want to go through with it, I won't force her. But that is a decision she has to make on her own."

"This is Jeniver we're talking about!" Charles snapped, before he could stop himself. "She can't handle this kind of responsibility!"

Everett raised an eyebrow. "Surely you have some faith in your own daughter."

"Yes, but— you're sending her to Albion!" Charles cried, a hint of hysteria in his voice. "On the complete opposite end of Kyth, to a boy who can hardly—"

"Enough." Lord Everett's commanding voice was enough to silence Charles immediately. Everett gave a heavy sigh, pinching his brow in frustration. "You need to stop treating her like a child, Charles. For 'Woo's sake, she's nearly twenty four years old." He paused, frowning. "I am giving her the option to refuse if she wishes—as far as politics go, I'm being very generous. But it will be her decision that sways me, not yours. Do I make myself clear?"

Charles was silent at first, his clenched fists shaking in agitation. In his mind, he could think of a thousand arguments, a thousand reasons not to go through with this, but he knew there was no use in continuing. Clearly Lord Everett had made up his mind, and nothing he said could sway him.

Finally, he gave a slow, deliberate nod. "...Yes, my lord."

"Good. Now then, we'd best be making preparations. It's a very long trip to Websteros..."

---

"A lady from House Jade?" asked Dilan Brachyura, while his servant was helping him lace up his boots.

The servant nodded. "That's right, my lord."

Dilan thought on this for a moment. He never would have expected to marry a Jade noble, of all people. House Jade was such a prestigious House, and so far away, too. "Do you think she's a mage?"

"So I've heard, yes," the servant told him. "I've heard she's a very powerful seer."

Dilan hesitated for a moment. And then, carefully, he asked, "Do... do you think she'll like me?"

"Don't worry, my lord. I've heard she's very nice." Having finished with Dilan's boots, the servant smiled, reaching for something. "I'm sure it will be fine."

"Y-yeah," Dilan replied, accepting his crutches from the servant. "I hope so."

With some help from his servant, Dilan stood up, leaning into the crutches with a sigh. When he was a child, Dilan Brachyura had suffered a traumatic injury, leaving him largely paralyzed from the waist down. Only after a lot of therapy and hard work was he able to walk again, but only with the help of crutches, and only very slowly. It was better than it could have been, and all things considered, he was very lucky. But it was still a struggle sometimes, knowing he would never be able to do all the same things fully able-bodied people could do.

What hurt most of all, though, was the way it affected his personal life. To others, he was just the poor crippled noble boy who could hardly walk. That the other Houses would even consider sending anyone to marry him was a marvel—he didn't even know if he could produce offspring, let alone be a good father or husband. And who would want to spend their life with someone like that, when they could have someone far more capable? He'd made it to twenty five years without a wife, and he had never expected to get one.

But now, by some miracle, House Jade had sent a noblewoman for him. He'd never been so nervous in his life. What was she like? What would she think of him? She was from House Jade, which, from all accounts, was a notoriously stiff family. His stomach lurched at the thought. She wasn't going to look down on him, was she?

They wouldn't have sent her if she was, he tried to remind himself. I-it will be okay. I'm sure it will...

Eventually, Dilan made his way to the entrance hall, where several of his family members were waiting for him—including his mother, his twin brother Jonah, and most notably, his father, Lord Ahab. As Dilan entered, he smiled.

"Ah, there you are, Dilan," he said. "Are you ready to meet Lady Jeniver?"

"Y... yes, of course," Dilan replied, smiling and nodding weakly.

"Good, good. The Jades should be here any moment, so everyone be on your best behavior."

Dilan nodded again, and moved to take his seat beside Jonah. As he did so, Jonah shot his brother a large grin.

"So, Dil, are you nervous?" Jonah asked, his grin growing wider.

"Y-yeah, kind of," Dilan replied, sitting down with some help from his servant. "I wonder what she'll be like..."

His brother's smile softened a bit. "Don't worry, I think everyone is nervous at first. I was certainly nervous when I met Cloudey. She'll be fine."

"Thanks. I hope so." Dilan gave an appreciative smile. He paused briefly, before adding, "So, um, you've done this before. What... do you think I should say to her?"

"I think a hello and an introduction should be good," Jonah said with a small laugh. "Don't think too much about it. Honestly, you'll be fine."

"Yeah, I guess," Dilan replied. "Thanks. I'll do my best."

It wasn't much later until they heard the sound of the door swinging open. A servant entered, promptly bowing to the Brachyurans. "The Jades have arrived, milord."

"Ah, good." Ahab smiled, turning to Dilan. "Come, Dilan. Let's go to greet them."

Dilan felt like his heart could have pounded out of his chest from nervousness. This was it, the moment he'd been awaiting and dreading all at once. Mustering up his courage, he nodded mutely, standing up again with his brother's help.

"Good luck," Jonah whispered.

Dilan smiled back at him. "Thanks."

He followed the servant and his parents out the door, stopping by the gates. Just as they were arriving, the sound of hoofbeats on the cobblestone roads echoed through the air. Dilan looked in the direction they were coming from, and sure enough, there was the Jade carriage, adorned in the House's colors of green and gold.

Dilan did his best to stand up straight and proud, but his efforts were hindered considerably by his crutches. Inwardly, he cursed the stupid things. If only he could cast them aside, show the world that he was more than just the crippled boy who couldn't walk, but he couldn't—without the crutches, he could barely stand. So he just sighed, trying to put on his best diplomatic face. You can do this, Dilan. You can do this.

Finally, the carriage pulled to a halt, and out stepped an elderly but commanding man who Dilan could only assume was Lord Everett Jade himself. He was followed by a small entourage of stern-looking Jade nobles... and then, a freckled blonde woman about his age, carrying a jade-tipped wand in her hand. Dilan's heart started to race all over again. That must have been Lady Jeniver.

"Ah, Lord Everett! It's so good to see you made it here safely," Ahab offered in greeting. "Allow me to formally welcome you to Websteros."

"Thank you. I'm glad to be here, as well," Lord Everett replied. He then glanced at Dilan, who did his best not to shrink away from the man's piercing gaze. "And this is Lord Dilan, I assume?"

"Y-yes," Dilan replied, trying to force the stammer out of his voice. "It's an honor to meet you, milord."

Everett nodded wordlessly, which Dilan wasn't quite sure how to interpret. And then, he gestured to the young blonde woman behind him. "Well then, Lord Dilan, allow me to introduce you to my niece, Lady Jeniver."

Jeniver stepped out from behind the other Jades, looking at Dilan with what he assumed was a look of surprise. Certainly she'd been told of his condition before coming here, but he was probably a sorry sight regardless—he'd been doing much better than he had in years before, but his injuries had also brought on a lot of pain and illness that ultimately left him looking scrawny and pale.

He felt his throat clench as she examined him silently, a look of pity in her eyes. I'm not good enough for her, he thought, disappointed, but not surprised. She'll never take someone like me.

"It's, um..." Jeniver spoke suddenly, snapping herself out of her trance and giving a polite curtsy. "It's nice to meet you."

"Y-yeah, you too," Dilan replied, forcing a smile.

"Well then, why don't we go inside, make yourselves comfortable?" Ahab suggested.

"An excellent idea," Everett agreed, following Ahab as he led the way.

"Um, do you need any help?" Jeniver asked Dilan, watching him slowly maneuvering himself back to the palace.

"I'm fine," Dilan replied, "but thank you."

Jeniver frowned, as if not sure how to accept this response. Great, she was already treating him like a charity case. That's what he always was, a charity case. Not a nobleman, and certainly not a husband.

"So, um, why don't you tell me about yourself?" Jeniver offered instead, making small talk while the older nobles had their own conversation. "What do you like to do?"

"Oh, w-well, I really like crafts," Dilan told her sheepishly. "I've made some model ships; they're nothing special, but it's really relaxing. I've always liked sailing, too..."

"Wow, that's really neat!" Jeniver said with a smile. "Can you show me your models sometime?"

Dilan smiled back weakly. "Oh... if you want, sure."

"Yeah! I'd like that." Jeniver nodded.

By this point, they had arrived back at the doors, and he paused to let the Jades go ahead of him. Though most of them were completely impassive, he noticed that one of the Jades, an older man with dull blonde hair—Lord Charles, he thought he'd overheard—seemed to glance at Dilan disdainfully as he passed him by. Dilan frowned. Did he hate him? He wouldn't be surprised if he did.

Jeniver seemed to notice the look too, biting her lip nervously. She quickly spoke up again, as if to distract him. "So, um... you like sailing? I guess you must get to do a lot of that up here, huh?"

"Yeah, living by the coast helps with that," Dilan said with a small laugh. "What about you? Do you get to do a lot of, um, magic?"

"Oh... yeah." Jeniver was smiling, but her gaze was distant. Dilan wasn't quite sure how to interpret that, but he didn't ask. The look faded quickly, anyway. "Maybe I could show you some magic sometime?"

"I'd like that." Dilan smiled, starting on his way inside once the way was clear. "What kind of spells do you know?"

"Um... a few. I'd have to show you later." Jeniver smiled awkwardly, briefly glancing toward Charles again. It wasn't hard to see that she had a past with the older man—given the similarities in appearance and age difference, maybe her father? Dilan's stomach churned again. He was her father, wasn't he? And with that look he gave Dilan...

He tried not to dwell on it, glancing over at the rest of his family, all of whom stood up respectfully when the Jades walked in. Ahab was introducing them, which Dilan could only watch thoughtfully. If all went well, these people were going to be his in-laws... that was strange to think about.

"Well then, you all must be weary from the trip," Ahab said, once the introductions were out of the way. "We've prepared a room for you during your stay here. Why don't I show you to it, and you can get settled?"

"That sounds like a good idea, yes," Everett agreed.

"Excellent." Ahab nodded, turning to lead the way. "Please follow me."

Jeniver watched her family start to leave, pausing only to turn to Dilan. "We'll talk more later, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Dilan replied.

Jeniver smiled, then hurried to catch up with her family. Dilan watched them leave, waiting until they were out of sight before letting out a sigh. Jonah promptly walked up to him, patting him on the shoulder encouragingly.

"You did great, Dil," Jonah said. "Don't worry about it."

"Thanks," was Dilan's response. Inwardly, though, he wasn't about to get his hopes up. It wasn't like he'd ever been this lucky before.

---

"I hope it is to your liking," Lord Ahab said, gesturing into the guest room that had been prepared for the Jades.

"Yes, it's fine. Thank you," Everett replied, looking around at the room thoughtfully for a moment. Then, returning his attention to Lord Ahab, he added, "We appreciate your hospitality."

"Of course, of course. If you ever need anything at all, just let one of the servants know," Ahab told him. And with that, he was on his way.

"He really does take after his father, doesn't he?" Helena remarked, once Ahab had left the room.

"They do bear a remarkable resemblance, yes," Everett agreed. "Brachyurans do tend to have very distinctive features, I've noticed. Speaking of which..." He turned to look at Jeniver. "What do you think of Lord Dilan so far?"

Jeniver paused to think on this. "He's nice," she said eventually. "I think we'll get along."

"Lord Dilan will need constant care and attention, given his condition. And he won't be able to take care of you," Charles pointed out. "It will take a lot of responsibility."

"I can do it," Jeniver insisted. "I don't mind."

"You would be living here in Albion. It's a very long way away from Corvus." Charles frowned. "The winters will be very cold."

"I'll be fine, daddy," Jeniver repeated, frowning.

"Lord Dilan is crippled from the waist down. He might not be able to—"

"Charles," Everett interrupted. Charles fell silent, and Everett sighed. "He is right, though—it would be a huge responsibility. And again, if you ever at any point change your mind, I will respect your decision. I don't wish to force this on you."

"We're just concerned for you, dear. And for Lord Dilan," Helena added, before Jeniver could comment. "We don't want you to take on more than you can handle."

"I understand that. And thank you," Jeniver replied. "But I haven't changed my mind. I want to go through with it."

Everett smiled at this. "I admire your resolve, Jeniver."

Jeniver smiled back at her uncle, but a quick glance at her father confirmed that he didn't share the sentiments. She resisted the urge to sigh, sitting down on her bed. She wasn't the impulsive child she used to be anymore, but what would it take for her father to realize that?

"Now then," Everett said, thankfully interrupting the silence. "Once we're all settled, we will want to speak with the Brachyurans about our arrangements..."

---

The day went on. While their families went about their political business, Dilan and Jeniver spent most of the time together, getting to know each other. As promised, Dilan took Jeniver to see the model ships he had made, which she seemed to enjoy.

"These are really well made!" Jeniver remarked, examining one of the models closely. "How long have you been making these?"

"Um... about ten years, I guess," Dilan told her. "I enjoy working with my hands. I guess I got really good at it, ever since, well..." He frowned, gesturing to his crutches.

Jeniver gave a sympathetic smile, setting the model ship back down on the shelf it was on. "Well, that's good though, right? Might as well make use of what you have."

"Y-yeah, that was the idea," Dilan replied, smiling awkwardly back at her. "That reminds me, were you going to show me some of your magic?"

"Oh! Yes!" Jeniver grinned, holding up her wand. "I'm not the best mage, but I do know a few spells, like... oh! This one's a classic." She looked around the room, biting her lip thoughtfully as she looked for something she could cast her spell on. Finally, she flicked her wand at a pillow, crying out, "Woogardium Leviosa!"

Dilan watched with interest as the pillow lifted into the air, as if by its own power. Jeniver twirled her wand around, making the pillow dance through the air, careful not to let it run into anything.

"Wow, you're really good at that," Dilan said.

"Thanks! It's my best spell," Jeniver replied. She paused thoughtfully, before adding, "Well, second-best, I guess."

Dilan tilted his head curiously. "What's your best spell?"

"Well, I—"

"Jeniver?"

Jeniver jumped at the sound of the voice. She uttered a quick counterspell, letting the pillow fall back onto the bed, then turned toward the source of the voice. Lord Charles peered into the room just in time to see this, a frown crossing his face.

"Did you need something, daddy?" Jeniver asked, before he could comment.

"...Hmph." Charles frowned in disappointment, before glancing pointedly at Dilan. This made Dilan's stomach clench, but he didn't say anything. "Lord Ahab wanted to speak with you about something,"

"Oh... okay." Jeniver sighed, turning to Dilan. "I'll be back later, okay?"

"Yeah." Dilan forced a smile, nodding. "Okay."

Dilan watched in silence as they left the room, closing the door behind them. He could hear them talking to each other, so he moved closer to the door to see if he could tell what they were talking about. Of course, that only confirmed what he already knew—they were talking about him. He wasn't good enough. He was never good enough.

Why can't I just have a normal life? he thought bitterly, tears stinging at his eyes. I just want to be happy for once. That's all I want...

---

Jeniver was disappointed, too. That look that daddy gave her was just as painful to her as it was to Dilan. He didn't like her using that spell, because she used to break things a lot with it. But she was careful now—she specifically picked the pillow in case she accidentally dropped it, even though she knew she wouldn't. But daddy didn't seem to care. He didn't trust her, and it felt like he never would.

"I was being careful, you know," she said eventually. "I wasn't going to break anything."

Charles looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"My magic?" Jeniver frowned. "I saw the look you gave me."

"Oh, yes. Well, regardless of your intentions, you should be careful with your magic around Lord Dilan," Charles replied flatly. "What if you had broken something? Or injured him?"

"Injure him?" Jeniver bristled at the accusation. "Why would I injure him?"

Charles frowned, apparently not sure how to answer the question. Ultimately, he decided not to, which only irritated Jeniver more. "Well, either way, you should be careful."

"I was showing him some magic because he asked me to. I wasn't going to hurt him," Jeniver said bluntly. "Why are you acting like this? Don't you trust me?"

Charles tensed, looking at Jeniver incredulously. "I... I'm just worried for you, Jeniver. And for Lord Dilan. I don't want you getting into something you can't handle."

"But I can handle it," Jeniver insisted. "I'm not a child anymore."

"It would be a lot of responsibility," Charles said, words she had heard many times before. "I'm just not sure if you're ready for—"

"But I am ready!" Jeniver interrupted. "Can't you see that?! I just— why can't you just treat me like an adult for once?!"

Charles was stunned by this response, speechless as Jeniver stormed off ahead of him. Not that she would have listened to anything he had to say, anyway—she just wanted to be the responsible one for once. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to marry Dilan, to move away from home, and to start her own life.

But then again... she thought absently, as her father faded out of sight. Am I really ready for this, or do I just wish I was?

Jeniver shook her head, trying to push the thought from her mind. No, she had to be ready for this. She was an adult now, not a child.

Or at least she hoped so.

---

Dilan couldn't sleep that night. His mind was swirling with thoughts. Hopes, doubts, insecurities... there was no way he could relax like this. In the end, he decided to climb out of bed—thankfully, his crutches were left by the bed where he could reach them—and go find somewhere to sit and work through his thoughts.

He made his way to one of the balconies of the palace, with a nice view that overlooked the ocean. He took a seat on the bench that was there—thankfully the palace had several places to sit, some of them added specifically for him. The night air was cold, the summer warmth just starting to fade, but it was nothing he wasn't used to. He just sat there silently, closing his eyes and listening to the relaxing sounds of the ocean.

Finally, after all the years of pain and sickness, after all the effort that went into his recovery, finally he had the chance to marry—maybe. He'd been warned that the decision had yet to be made for certain, and there was still plenty of opportunity for the Jades to back out of it. And who could blame them? The Jades were a powerful family; surely they deserved someone better than him.

Regardless, even if it turned out to be just for a fleeting moment, it gave him hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could actually have his place in the mad world of politics for once. Maybe he could start a family, and, if he was lucky, have children of his own... after everything that had happened to him, the thought of having a relatively normal life made him happy.

But... the thought rang through his mind, and his smile immediately faded. Lady Jeniver seemed nice enough, though it was hard to tell how much of it was genuine, and not just pity. The other Jades, however... the ones who didn't have mixed feelings toward him radiated a clear sense of disapproval, Lord Charles especially. He just wasn't good enough, not for the Jades... and not for anyone, probably.

"Dilan?"

The voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see who it was. To his surprise, it was Lady Jeniver. Dilan blinked in surprise. What was she doing out here?

"Couldn't sleep, either?" he guessed.

"I guess not," Jeniver replied, moving to take a seat beside him. She shivered a bit from the cold, but that didn't stop her. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," Dilan told her. "Just... thinking, I guess."

"Yeah, me too," was Jeniver's response.

The two of them fell silent for a while, just looking out across the ocean. Neither of them were quite sure what to say. Here they were, two people from entirely different backgrounds, simultaneously being arranged to marry while also being held at arms length apart from each other. What even was going to happen with them? The uncertainty was nothing if not frustrating.

"...I'm really sorry about all this," Dilan said finally.

Jeniver frowned. "Why? It's not your fault."

"...I-I guess." Dilan winced, memories coming back to him. If only he hadn't fallen, if only he hadn't had that terrible accident... but he couldn't change the past. "I just... I realize how awkward it is for you."

"I don't mind," Jeniver replied. "I think you're really nice. And I don't really care if you can walk or not."

"Oh... w-well, thank you." Dilan smiled sheepishly at the remark, but the smile quickly faded. "Not... not everyone thinks that way."

Jeniver didn't respond, lost in thought. After a moment, Dilan sighed, continuing.

"I just... people seem to think I have to be taken care of all the time. Treat me like a burden," he admitted. "I mean, I-I guess I probably am, after all the work my family had to go through for my sake..."

"You're not a burden," Jeniver insisted. "Your family cares about you a lot, I can tell."

"Yeah, but your family doesn't," Dilan replied bitterly. "I've seen the way they look at me, especially your father. They d-dont... think I'm good enough."

Seeing Jeniver's pained expression made him regret saying that. Before he could utter an apology, though, Jeniver spoke. "Daddy is... he's always like that. Please don't take it personally."

Dilan was silent, not sure how to interpret that comment. Jeniver gave a sad sigh, fiddling with the wand in her hands absently.

"It's not that he hates you. He just... he doesn't think I can handle it," she told him.

Dilan frowned. "What, being with someone like me?"

"All of it. Marrying you, moving so far away from home, and..." Jeniver paused, apparently misty-eyed at the mention. A sensitive subject, apparently.

"...Don't feel like you have to for my sake," Dilan said. "I don't want to force you."

"I want to do it, though. I'd like to be with you," Jeniver told him. "It just... I guess it does scare me a little."

"I think that's normal, though," Dilan pointed out. "A big change like this... that would be scary for anyone." After a moment of thought, he added, "And I bet your dad is scared, too."

Jeniver was silent for a while, lost in thought. Dilan's frown deepened when he noticed a tear roll down her cheek, and he cautiously held out an arm to give her a hug. She accepted it, leaning into the hug and crying softly.

"I-I... I love my parents, but I've always been a child to them," she explained carefully. "They treat me like a child, and I've acted like a child, a-and I... I don't want to be a child anymore."

Dilan tightened the hug slightly, gently rubbing her shoulder for comfort. He could only imagine what her upbringing must have been like, but if there was one thing he could understand, it was the pain of being less than you wanted to be.

"I don't think of you like a child," Dilan offered.

Jeniver smiled a little at this, carefully returning the hug. "That's why I want to be with you. I don't feel like a child when I'm with you."

Dilan was a little surprised by the remark. But then, slowly, he returned the smile. "And you make me feel like more than just a burden."

"We could be normal adults together!" Jeniver added with a small giggle. "We can do what we want to do, and we won't have to burden anyone, and..." She sighed longingly, wiping a tear from her face. "It would be nice."

"Yeah," Dilan agreed. "I mean, it... I won't deny it'll probably be hard, but... I just want to be happy." Absently brushing a strand of hair out of her face, he added, "And I want you to be happy."

Jeniver nodded in agreement. "Me too. We... we could be happy together."

"Yeah." Dilan sighed longingly, looking out at the ocean thoughtfully. He still didn't know what exactly was going to happen, but he was starting to like the idea of spending his life with Lady Jeniver. Maybe, just maybe, things would work out for the two of them, and they could have a good life together.

But for now, just getting to spend this brief moment with her was more than he could ever ask for.

"Are you cold?" Dilan asked, noticing that Jeniver was shivering. "Maybe we should go back inside."

"Y-yeah, we probably should," Jeniver agreed, though she stayed in his arms for a moment longer. "Mm, you're warm, though... I could get used to this."

"Um... thanks," Dilan replied, blushing fiercely. He'd never had a girl say that to him before... but, he realized with a smile, he supposed he'd get used to it, too.

Jeniver smiled, and after a while, sat up straight again. "Well, I guess I'd better get back to bed. But it was nice talking with you."

"Yeah, you too," Dilan agreed, smiling back at her. He moved to stand, and was pleased when Jeniver reached to help him up—and this time, he could tell it wasn't out of obligation. They smiled warmly at each other, before finally turning and going their separate ways.

There were no more doubts in Dilan's mind when he returned to bed.

---

Time went on, Dilan and Jeniver only growing more close. Their reservations about the arrangement slowly went away, and it quickly became clear that Jeniver had made up her mind about the marriage. In fact, when the time came for her to make a decision, she didn't even hesitate to say yes.

"Are you absolutely sure about this, Jeniver?" Charles asked.

"I'm sure," she replied. She paused thoughtfully, before continuing. "I mean... I know there will be a lot to adjust to, especially at first. ...But I love Dilan." She smiled. "And I think we'll be able to figure it out."

"You've grown up so well," Helena said, smiling sadly. "If you're really sure about this, then... it is your decision."

"...Of course," Charles agreed, though Jeniver could hear the waver in his voice. "You're an adult now, after all."

"Daddy..." Jeniver sighed, thinking on what to say. "I'm sorry if I lost my temper with you."

"No, it... it's my fault," Charles admitted carefully, with clearly conflicted emotions in his eyes. "I've been terribly selfish. ...You deserve this, Jeniver."

Jeniver gave a sad smile. She was grateful for the apology, but she could see that this was still a hard decision for him. It was hard enough for her, moving so far away from her family... she could only imagine how hard it must have been for him. After a moment, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. This startled him, but he slowly eased into it, hugging her back.

"I'll miss you, daddy," she told him. "But I'll keep in touch, okay?"

Charles nodded mutely, swallowing the lump in his throat. Jeniver could feel him shaking as he said, "Please... stay safe."

"I will. Don't worry," Jeniver replied, patting him on the back reassuringly. "It will be okay, daddy. I promise."

Charles didn't respond, simply clinging to his daughter and crying into her hair. Helena decided to join the hug shortly afterward, and the three of them just stood there for a while in silence.

It was going to be hard to let go... but it was time to move on.

[PFA]

And now, back to our regularly scheduled Satine death. But this time, something a little different...

Circumstances

SPOILER: Click to show

Dying was painful, both physically and emotionally, but the afterlife was graciously peaceful. All in all, given the circumstances, Lady Satine Jade couldn't ask for anything more—though she terribly missed her family, she knew that she would be reunited with them someday.

And while she waited, she had the opportunity to meet those she never had the chance to in life.

"You must be Lady Satine," came a voice, distracting her from her thoughts. "I've heard much about you."

Satine turned in the direction of the voice, and was greeted with the sight of a woman in House Jade colors. She had long, light blonde hair, and her sky blue eyes were fixed on Satine with an analytical gaze. Satine had never seen this woman before, but it didn't take long to place her—she would recognize those features anywhere.

"And you would be Lady Cassandra, I assume?" she asked.

The other woman, Cassandra, nodded. "I suppose Everett told you about me, then."

"Yes, of course," Satine replied with a sad smile. "He spoke very highly of you."

The two ladies had something in common, in that they had both been wed to the Lord of House Jade, Lord Everett. But where Satine was Everett's second wife, Cassandra was the first, having tragically lost her life in childbirth. It was something that had affected Everett greatly, which Satine hadn't failed to notice. It was easy to see that Cassandra was someone he'd cared about very much.

"It's an honor to meet you," Satine said.

"You, as well." Cassandra gave a small amused smile. "Though, given our positions, I hope there would be no ill will between us."

"Oh, no, of course not," Satine insisted. "I wouldn't want that, either."

"That's good. You seem like a very kind person, and I'm glad Everett could be with someone like you." Cassandra paused, her expression remaining the same, but her eyes filling with a sad longing. "And... I'd like to thank you, for giving him what I never could."

Satine frowned. It was no secret that Cassandra had been unable to have children—it was the entire reason that Lord Everett was forced to remarry, after all. The son that she almost had, the one that ultimately took Cassandra's life, was something Everett didn't speak of much, but it was clear that it was hard on him. Satine could only imagine how hard it must have been on Cassandra.

"It's not your fault," Satine assured her. "And he didn't blame you for it, either."

"I appreciate that, thank you," Cassandra replied. "I realize that it was out of my control... as much as I wish it wasn't." She sighed thoughtfully, trailing off into silence for a while. Finally, she spoke up again. "What are they like, if I may ask? Your children, that is."

Satine smiled longingly at the thought of her children. "Well, the oldest is Joffery. He's such a sweetheart, with a wonderful smile. He's grown up so much... I'm sure he'll make a great Lord of the House someday." She paused briefly in thought before continuing. "And then there's Reynold. Dear Reynold, he's always been such a hard worker."

She continued down the line, taking a moment to describe each child one by one. Though Cassandra didn't say anything, Satine couldn't help but feel a little guilty, realizing that each of her own six children was a child that Cassandra hadn't been able to have. By the time she got down to Caroline, Satine could see that Cassandra looked deep in thought.

"...I'm sorry, I hope this doesn't bother you," Satine said, frowning in concern.

"Hm? Oh, no, it's quite alright," Cassandra insisted. "Your children sound lovely; I'm sure Everett loves them very much."

"Yes, of course," Satine replied. "But I hope you wouldn't think that means he loved you any less."

Cassandra didn't comment, though she gave a grateful smile at the remark. Changing the subject somewhat, she asked, "Did he... do they know about me, at all?"

Satine thought on this, not sure how to respond. Everett never did like to speak of his past much, so the topic of Cassandra didn't often come up. She wasn't actually sure how much the children knew about Cassandra. The older ones, at least, knew of her, but...

"It's alright if they don't," Cassandra added, noticing Satine's hesitation. "I was just curious, is all."

"I'm sorry. Everett's a very private man, as I'm sure you know," Satine replied sadly. "But they do know about you, even if not directly. We've stayed in close contact with your family—you have a nephew named Cyril, he's about Joffery's age, and they're very close."

Cassandra seemed surprised by this revelation. Then, slowly, she gave a pleased smile. "I'm glad to hear that. A nephew named Cyril, you say? Would that be Achilles' son, by any chance?"

"That's right." Satine nodded. "He has two sons, Cyril and Nestor. They're both very sweet boys."

"I see. I'm happy for my brother," Cassandra remarked, pleased. "I would love to meet them someday."

"And I'm sure they would love to meet you," Satine said. With a smile, she added, "I for one can say that it's been an honor."

"Thank you. And you likewise, Lady Satine," Cassandra replied. She paused for a moment in thought, before continuing. "Perhaps you'd like to walk with me for a while? I'd be interested in learning more about you."

Satine nodded. "Of course. I'd be honored."

With that, the two ladies went on their way, sharing stories and simply enjoying each other's company. It was good to know that, in spite of the painful circumstances that brought them where they were, the two of them could be friends.

[PFA]

Suddenly, LITTLE KID FLUFF. Not even sorry. 8D

Stitches

SPOILER: Click to show

"Whooooosh! Fly higher, Phee!"

A young Everett Jade, barely four years old, was running in circles around the room, carrying a lovingly handcrafted phoenix doll as high above his head as his little arms would allow. He laughed cheerfully, making sound effects as he mimed the doll making various maneuvers.

"Stop the bad guys, Phee!" he exclaimed, grinning and running over to his toy chest. He hefted it open, digging through the dolls for some he could use as bad guys for Phee the Phoenix to fight. He carefully selected two dolls, pulling them out and closing it when he was done. "Let's go!"

He tugged on the phoenix doll, not noticing that he had accidentally closed the lid on her wing. He frowned, tugging a little harder to pull her free. Seeing that it seemed to be working, he gave one last, sharp tug.

Rip!

"Whoa!" Everett fell over backwards, clutching onto the newly-freed phoenix doll. He looked down at her, a wave of panic coming over him after the unsettling tearing sound. Upon first glance, it seemed that Phee was still in one piece, but then he saw it—some of the stitches had ripped open on her left wing, and some of the feather stuffing was leaking out of it.

Everett stared at it in silence for a moment. Then, suddenly, he burst into tears, climbing to his feet and running out of the room. "Daddyyyyy!"

He ran through the halls of Jade Manor, trying to find Lord Eduard. Thankfully, it didn't take him long to find him, standing in the hall and talking to one of the advisors. However, upon noticing Everett, Eduard immediately turned his attention to the child in concern.

"Everett?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"Phee's hurt!" Everett whimpered, holding up the doll for Eduard to see. "Can you make her better?"

"Oh dear, looks like we'll have to take her to the doll infirmary," Eduard replied, gently taking Phee in his hands. "Don't worry, we'll get her fixed up in no time."

Everett sniffed, wiping his tears on his sleeve. "Really?"

"Of course." Eduard smiled warmly, turning to the advisor. "I'll have to look into it later, it seems."

The advisor gave an amused smile. "That's quite understandable, my lord."

"Come along, Everett. I know just the person to fix Phee," Eduard said, leading the way through the manor.

"Phee's gonna get better?" Everett asked.

"Yes, Phee's going to get better," Eduard replied. "Don't worry, it should be a quick fix."

Everett smiled hopefully, following Eduard through the halls eagerly. He didn't know where they were going, but daddy said that Phee was going to be okay, and he believed in daddy.

They finally made their way to a laundry room, where a seamstress was tending to one of the mage's robes. However, when Eduard and his son walked in, she stopped, standing and giving a respectful curtsy. "Oh! Greetings, my lord. Did you need something?"

"Yes, I hope I'm not interrupting anything important?" Eduard asked.

"No, not at all," the seamstress replied. "What is it?"

"I was hoping you would be willing to do a small favor for my son," Eduard said, holding out the phoenix doll. "Some of the stitches on her wing came loose. Would you be willing to repair it?"

"Oh! Yes, of course." The seamstress smiled at Everett as she was handed the doll. "I can fix that for you right away."

"Thank you kindly." Eduard also smiled, looking down at Everett as the seamstress went to work. "Don't worry, it's just a small repair. She'll be done in no time."

Everett nodded, absently looking around the room while waiting. The room was full of clothing in the Jade colors, some to be washed, and others to be mended, as the seamstress had been doing. Everett wandered up to one of the capes that had been hung up to dry, running a hand across it and smiling in recognition.

"It's grandpa's!" he chirped.

"Yes, that's right. That's your grandfather's cape," Eduard agreed. "You'll have one just like it when you're older."

Everett seemed pleased by this, examining the gold embroidering on the edges. "It's soft."

"It is, isn't it? I think it was made with Veresian silk." Eduard glanced at the seamstress. "Is that right?"

"I think so, yes," the seamstress told him, nodding. "I know we get a lot of silk from them."

"I like silk. It's soft," Everett remarked.

"Only the best for the Lord of House Jade." The seamstress finished a stitch, tying it off and examining her handiwork. Once she was satisfied, she held out the doll for Everett to see. "There you go. Good as new."

"Phee!" Everett beamed, running up and taking the doll back from the seamstress. Seeing that the hole in her wing was gone, he smiled, hugging the doll gratefully. "You fixed her! Thank you!"

"You're quite welcome, my lord," the seamstress said with a smile. "Have fun, now."

"Thank you kindly. We'll let you back to work," Eduard added, turning to leave the room. "Come along, Everett."

Everett hurried after Eduard, clutching onto Phee protectively. "Thank you, daddy!"

"Of course," Eduard said with a nod. "I'm glad I could help."

Everett smiled, hurrying to catch up with his father so he could hug his leg. "I love you, daddy."

Eduard paused, a little surprised by the gesture. Then he smiled warmly, reaching down and ruffling Everett's hair. "I love you too, Everett."

[PFA]

Another collab with Shinko!

Family Matters

SPOILER: Click to show

It had been a little over two weeks since the birth of Antony Jade, the firstborn of Reynold and his wife Chamile. It still baffled Anders to think about it- Reynold, the child he’d caught sneaking into the phoenix mews and taken for a ride on Mirja’s back, was a father. Knowing Reynold as well as he did, the fireknight was fairly certain that Reynold would be having an equally hard time wrapping his head around it.

Up until now Anders had seen little of Reynold, and he hadn’t met the newborn Antony at all. The amount of visitors who were allowed to see the baby at any one time was strictly limited, to avoid frightening or stressing the child. Of course, the Jades had the first priority in meeting their new family member. Anders didn’t begrudge them that- truthfully he was a little happy for Reynold. For once in his life the young man was the center of attention and the object of much fanfare and congratulations. It wasn’t quite the sort of acknowledgement Reynold had always wanted, but Anders hoped that his friend was happy about it regardless.

Now, however, a servant had finally come to the fireknight compound to let Anders know that Reynold had invited him to meet the newborn. Anders was simultaneously excited and a bit nervous. Anders had discovered that he had a strong fondness for children, and he was looking forward to the new arrival, but… what if the child didn’t like him? Anders had no children of his own, and given that he’d discovered a long time ago his romantic preferences did not include women, he wasn’t ever going to. Cut off as he was from his blood relations, he couldn’t exactly play the part of an uncle any more than he could a father.

Shrugging the irrational nervousness off- what would happen would happen- Anders finished up the last of his tasks around the barracks for the day, then headed up to Jade Manor. He’d rarely gone into the private areas of the manor, as they were reserved for the Jade family. But this when he arrived and asked where Reynold was waiting, it was to that private wing of the building he was directed by the servants. He eventually found himself at the door to one of the small sitting rooms that the family used when they wanted to relax. The door was hanging slightly ajar, and when he looked inside, sure enough, there was Reynold. The black haired boy had a small bundle of cloth in his arms, though from this angle Anders couldn’t actually see the child within the folds.

“Hey,” he said softly, in case the baby was asleep. “Sorry about the holdup, there were some things I needed to finish first. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“No, it’s alright,” Reynold replied. At the sound of the voices, the baby in his arms cooed softly, and Reynold gave an awkward smile. “Did you want to see him?”

Anders smiled in reply, coming into the room fully and sitting down next to Reynold. In a joking tone he answered, “If you don’t mind. I wouldn’t want to discover a heretofore unrealized paternal protective streak from you and get my face bitten off.”

“Heh.” Reynold held the baby out so Anders could see—he had tiny strands of black hair coming from his head, and he was looking around with curious pale grey eyes. Anders looked down at the little one curiously, his expression gentling somewhat. He wiggled a finger in front of the baby’s face playfully, remarking, “It’s still strange to think of you as being a father now- I feel old.”

“It’s still strange to me, too,” Reynold admitted with a small laugh. Watching the child reach out a tiny arm to try and grab Anders’ finger, he smiled. “His name is Antony, by the way. Did you want to hold him?”

Anders nodded, though he somewhat bashfully admitted, “I’ve never really held a baby before. I don’t suppose you could show me what to do with my arms? I don’t want to hurt him accidentally.”

“Oh, well, mostly you want to make sure his head is supported,” Reynold explained, trying to show him how his own arms were held under the baby. “Like this.”

Anders did his best to mimic the position that Reynold was holding his arms, and though he was initially surprised by the infant’s weight, he found that it wasn’t too difficult to keep him supported. “How’s he been doing? No complications I hope?” the fireknight asked, holding out a finger to Antony again. “And Lady Chamile, I imagine she’s exhausted.”

“Yeah, she’s on bedrest right now. It went well, though; no complications,” Reynold told him, watching him and Antony interact. Antony continued reaching for Anders’ hand, cooing happily. Reynold smiled. “I think he likes you.”

Anders chuckled, relieved somewhat. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ll probably never have any children of my own but… I like kids. Which I’m sure you’ve surmised by now.” With a slight smirk Anders added, “I wonder if one day I won’t find this little fellow making a covert trip to the mews to meet the phoenixes. Perhaps dragging along some younger sibling or another, who will promptly blame him when they get caught.”

“Heh. Hopefully he won’t take after Joffery that much,” Reynold said. With a wistful sigh, he added, “Or me.”

The last remark surprised Anders a bit, but not in a bad way. He smiled sympathetically at the younger man. “Families are complicated. I can certainly attest to that. But I’m sure you’ll be a great father for Antony, and make sure that he and any siblings he might have all feel equally appreciated.”

Reynold smiled again at this. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

The fireknight gently reached his finger up to Antony’s neck, giving the baby a light tickle. Antony giggled at this, wiggling in Anders’ arms. Anders glanced at his young friend, his smile somewhat crooked. “I… After I left home, I never really thought I’d have anything like a family again. I didn’t want a family, after what had happened with my own. But Lord Everett has always been so accommodating when he owes me nothing, and you’ve been a good friend to me.” He shrugged. “I guess in a way, the Jades are the closest I’ve felt like I’ve ever had to a real family. So… I know you’re probably nervous about this; I know I would be. But I’ll help you with whatever you need; an errand to run, a babysitter, or just somewhere to escape for a few hours.”

“Thank you, that’s very nice of you,” Reynold said. He paused for a moment in thought, before suddenly remembering something. “Oh! That reminds me, I just found out something today.”

Anders blinked, leaving off tickling the baby and just leaving his finger for Antony to play with. “Did you? What might that be?”

“Well, I was looking into House Jade’s genealogical records, because… well, I guess I was curious.” Reynold glanced down at Antony, who seemed to be trying to put his mouth around Anders’ finger, and gave an amused smile. “Did you know my grandmother at all?”

The fireknight glanced down when he felt the wet pressure of the baby’s jaw closing on his finger, but his only response was an indulgent upward twitch of his mouth. Letting the infant gnaw on his finger, he replied, “That would have been… Lady Eleanor, I think? Lord Eduard’s consort?”

Reynold nodded. “Lady Eleanor, yeah.”

“I can’t say I did,” Anders said. “I’m pretty sure she was still alive when I first came to Solis but at the time I was just a trainee fireknight, so I had no reason to interact directly with Lord Everett’s relatives much. Why?”

“I was just curious,” Reynold told him, “because apparently she was from House Escalus.”

Anders’ head snapped up, and he looked at Reynold with an expression of flat astonishment. He searched his memory, trying to recall if Lord Olander had ever mentioned anything about the Lord’s wife being a relative of theirs. He barely remembered Lord Eduard’s time as the Jade patriarch. Eduard had died only a month after Anders was formally disinherited, when he was just nine years old. But surely Olander would have mentioned…

“I… I didn’t know that,” Anders stammered. “Do you know how she was related to House Escalus? Fath- Lord Olander, he never mentioned anything about it that I can recall.”

Reynold wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Being related to House Jade seemed like something worth mentioning, but then again, even Reynold didn’t know this until today. He decided not to comment. “I, um, I think she was your aunt?”

“My aunt… so my father’s sister then? He never told me he even had any siblings.” Anders looked down at Antony, gently pulling his finger out of the baby’s mouth and instead stroking Antony’s hair. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then suddenly a laugh bubbled out of him. “Oh… Oh Woo, I just realized…”

“What is it?” Reynold asked.

Anders smirked. “If your grandmother is my aunt, that means that Lord Everett and I are first cousins. I just… can’t wrap my head around that somehow.”

Reynold blinked, seeming a little baffled as well as he thought on this. After a moment, he shook his head, smiling in amusement. “Well, it means we’re cousins, too. Well, first cousins once removed, technically.”

“I guess it does,” Anders agreed, looking extremely bemused. “We’ve known each other almost fourteen years, and never once did we know or guess. You’d think your father might have mentioned it at some point.” He shook his head, still gently stroking Antony and rocking him back and forth. “I guess that means that House Jade actually is my family.”

“Yeah, apparently,” Reynold said, watching as Antony seemed to be drifting off to sleep in Anders’ arms. “Well, I’m happy to have you in my family.”

The fireknight gave Reynold a look of gratitude. There were times after he ran away from Heleos when he thought he’d never have anyone who really cared about him except for his phoenix. The fact that Reynold was willing to say something like that so plainly meant a lot.

“Thank you,” he said softly, but with feeling. Then, in a lighter tone, he added, “I just hope you still feel that way in a few years. I fully intend to spoil this kid rotten, and let you deal with the consequences. Just like any Cuz-Uncle should.”

Reynold laughed at this. “Just don’t spoil him too rotten.”

“I make no promises,” Anders replied. “Do you want to take him back? I think he’s completely out cold.”

“Hm? Oh, sure.” Reynold held out his arms to take Antony. Anders gently passed the sleeping infant back to his father, pushing away a touch of reluctance. He’d have plenty more opportunities to spend time with the little one after all.

“I’m happy to be part of your family too.”

[PFA]

Joffery's sisters wanted a fic, oh nooo

(This takes place sometime during the events of Medieval)

Family Responsibilities

SPOILER: Click to show

"Luellaaaa!"

Caroline Jade stomped through the halls of Jade Manor, searching for her older sister. The child's short, black hair was unkempt, her face contorted into a pouting frown as her brown eyes searched each room carefully. Her big sister Luella had to be somewhere around here.

As she continued her search, her eyes fell upon an unusual sight, and she paused. The door to her father's office had been left open, where it previously had been closed—which was strange, since he shouldn't have been back from the king's funeral yet. Deciding to investigate further, she snuck over and peered inside, hoping to catch the culprit.

"Reynold!" she shrieked, once she saw who it was. Her older brother winced, turning to face the child in surprise. "What are you doing in daddy's office?!"

"He left me in charge while he's away," Reynold told her. "I was looking for the, um..."

"He told me that no one's supposed to mess around in his office while he's gone!" Caroline interrupted, before he could finish. "You're gonna get in trouble!"

"I'm not messing around, I was just looking for— ah! This." Reynold pulled a document off the shelf with a satisfied smile. Turning again to Caroline, he added, "I'll put it back when I'm done, I just need to check something."

Caroline frowned, clearly not entirely convinced. But after a while, she gave up. If Reynold got in trouble, it was his own fault. So instead of continuing to scold him, she decided to ask, "Do you know where Luella is?"

"I think she's in the library," Reynold replied.

"Oh," Caroline replied dully. She didn't like the library much, she thought it was boring, but Luella had been spending a lot of time there lately. Caroline could never understand why. "Okay, I'll check there."

"Be careful," Reynold said, now distracted with his document.

"Of course I'll be careful!" Caroline insisted, before storming off in a huff. Ugh, why did her brother have to be so rude? She was seven years old, not three!

Regardless, she took his advice and decided to check the library. She carefully made her way up the stairs, making extra sure not to trip—which she had done several times before, when she was younger, but she was determined not to do so this time. She would show Reynold just how careful she was!

She made it to the top of the stairs without incident, and gave a triumphant smile. She did it! But, since no one was around to celebrate with her, she simply continued on her way to the library. She could gloat to Reynold later; she still needed to find Luella.

It didn't take much longer before she reached the library. There was a servant standing by the doors, watching her carefully as she approached. Caroline frowned. He didn't trust her, did he? No one ever trusted her.

"Is Luella in there?" she asked instead. "I wanna see her."

"Ah, yes, Lady Luella came through here a while ago," the servant said with a nod.

Caroline smiled, pushing past the servant and running into the library. "Luella!"

"Lady Caroline, wait!" the servant called after her. "Please don't run in the library!"

Immediately, Caroline's smile faded. This was one of the many reasons she didn't like the library—people were always telling her to be quiet and not run. Reluctantly, though, she relented, moving through the library at a much more careful pace. She hated being yelled at, but she didn't want to get in trouble, either.

Thankfully, her irritation was soon dispelled by the sight of a familiar head of long brown hair. Caroline grinned, not running, but walking at a quickened pace to catch up with her sister, who was currently hunched over a stack of books. Caroline tugged at her sister's dress to catch her attention, startling Luella out of her reading.

"Luella! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Caroline chirped. "You said we were gonna play today!"

"Oh! I'm sorry, I completely forgot," Luella replied hastily. "I'm so sorry, I promise we can play later."

Caroline blinked, standing on her toes in an attempt to look over Luella's shoulder. "What'cha reading?"

"Oh, um, I was just doing some research," Luella explained sheepishly, gathering up the books she had set out. Caroline tried to get a peek at what she was reading, but the books used too many large words that she didn't know.

"What kind of research?" Caroline wondered.

"Well, I was just..." Luella sighed, pondering on what to say. "I mean, with Father and Joffery both away, and Reynold in charge, I was just thinking... I mean, what if Reynold goes somewhere, too? Who would be left to take charge? Aubrey's too young, so it..." She bit her lip. "I mean, it might be me. But I don't know anything about running a House."

"Why would Reynold leave?"

"I don't know, but— I figured it couldn't hurt, just in case, you know? To do some reading, that is." Luella gestured to the book she was reading. "I mean, especially if Joffery becomes the king..."

Caroline made a face, confused. "Joffery's not gonna be king."

"He will be if he marries the princess," Luella replied. "And then Reynold would be the heir, and then I'm the next oldest, and... I don't know. I just thought it might be useful, to be able to help if I'm needed."

"...I guess," Caroline admitted with a shrug. After a moment's thought, she added, "Does that mean you don't want to play with me?"

"Oh, um... well..." Luella thought on this for a moment. Eventually, she gave a smile, pushing the book aside. "I guess I could use a break for a while."

"Yay! I love you, Luella!" Caroline cheered, giving her big sister a hug. "What should we play? What should we play?"

Luella smiled, hugging back. "Whatever you want to play is fine."

"Oh, what do I want to play?" Caroline pondered, heading for the exit and reminding herself not to run. "We could play tag, or we could play dolls, or..."

Caroline continued on excitedly for a while, and Luella just followed with an amused smile. Politics could wait for now—for now, the two sisters were content just to enjoy each other's company.

[PFA]

Have some fluff that definitely doesn't secretly murder all of my feels 8D This takes place somewhere around two years before Medieval.

Simpler Times

SPOILER: Click to show

"Are you sure we should be wandering off like this, Joffery?"

"It will be alright! We're old enough to take care of ourselves." Joffery turned to his step-cousin, grinning. "Besides, I've always wanted to see that cathedral you always rave about."

Cyril gave an amused smile. "Oh, alright. But we should be sure to get back before sundown; I don't want your father to worry."

"Oh, of course! We won't be gone that long," Joffery replied. "Not unless you get caught up admiring the scenery, Cyril!"

Cyril laughed. "Fair point. I guess we'll both have to be careful."

Joffery nodded in agreement, beckoning Cyril to follow him to the Woo's Wing Cathedral. It wasn't often that the Jades got to visit their relatives in Astralogos, but Joffery always enjoyed it when they did. He and Cyril always used to play together when they were kids, and were still good friends now that they were older. Joffery loved taking Cyril to see the sights around Corvus, to admire the scenery and meet new people.

Though for the latter, in Joffery's case, that mostly involved meeting pretty girls.

While they moved through the streets of Astralogos, the sound of feminine tittering reached Joffery's ears. He glanced in the direction of the sound, and sure enough, there were a couple of peasant girls—no, they didn't quite look like peasant class, maybe they were merchant girls?—giggling and seemingly talking about him. Emphasized by the fact that, when he looked at them, one of the girls blushed and sheepishly hid behind the other.

Joffery put on his charming smile, straightening his clothes. "One moment, Cyril. It's time for the Ace of Hearts to do what he does best."

"Oh brother," Cyril replied, rolling his eyes with an amused smile. "You're ridiculous, Joffery."

"Shh. Just watch." With that, Joffery put on his best gentleman demeanor, striding confidently over to the two girls. They seemed surprised, but pleased as he did so, which only broadened Joffery's smile. "Hello there, fair maidens. I am Lord Joffery of House Jade."

"Oh! Well, it's an honor to meet you, my lord," one of them replied, returning the smile. "I'm Lora, and this is my sister, Mary." She turned to the other girl, who was still hiding bashfully behind her. "Go on, Mary, say hello."

"Ah, h-hello, my lord," Mary squeaked, blushing furiously and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "W-welcome to our bakery, would you like some bread?"

"I would love some bread, Miss Mary," Joffery replied, smiling at her. "It smells wonderful. Do you make it yourself?"

"Yes! Our family makes bread. U-uh, I mean, of course we do, this is a bakery, um..." Mary blushed harder, bashfully avoiding eye contact with the nobleman. "B-but I make some of it. I-I could make something special just for you... um, if you like."

Joffery gave a lighthearted chuckle. "That sounds wonderful, thank you. I'm sure you're a wonderful baker; I can see you work very hard."

"Thank you! Y-yes, we do," Mary replied, looking simply elated.

Lora smiled at her sister teasingly, then glanced past Joffery toward Cyril. "Would you like something, too, Lord Oberon?"

"Hm? Oh, sure, if you're offering," Cyril replied. "Whatever you want to make is fine."

"We'll get you something nice." Lora smiled, turning to head back into the bakery and beckoning Mary to follow. "We'll be back in a jiffy, so feel free to stick around for a bit."

"But of course," Joffery replied, waving at the two girls as they retreated into the kitchen. Mary waved back bashfully, lingering for a moment before hurrying after sister.

"...And now we're buying bread," Cyril remarked to Joffery, once the girls were out of earshot. "Who's the one getting distracted, again?"

"I thought we agreed that it was a mutual concern," Joffery countered.

"Right, of course." Cyril shook his head in amusement. "Really though, you shouldn't tease the poor girls like that. You're just going to get their hopes up."

"And what's wrong with that?" Joffery smiled, absently running a hand through his hair. "I'm still single, and it brightens their day. What is there to lose?"

"I'm just saying, it's not like they have a real chance with the heir of House Jade." Cyril shrugged. "But I suppose you're right. Might as well do something with all those love songs of yours."

"Oh! A song!" Joffery brightened at the thought. "I haven't sung them a song yet! What songs do I know about bakers?"

Cyril rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Joffery."

---

After they'd bought the bread, and Joffery had performed a rousing rendition of Your Love is So Sweet, the two noblemen went on their way. Thankfully, they managed to make it to the Woo's Wing Cathedral without buying anything else, and had plenty of time to take in the scenery.

"Good afternoon, Lord Cyril, Lord Jade," spoke one of the priests, bowing respectfully to the nobles. "Here sightseeing, I presume?"

"Haha, yes," Cyril replied, gesturing to Joffery. "I offered to show him around, if that's alright with you."

"Of course, of course," the priest said with a nod. "We just finished the new pulpit, and I think you'll quite like it."

"Oh! How exciting." Cyril smiled, trying to glance past the priest to get a better look at the new pulpit. "It does look different, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but I think it improves the look of the chapel, don't you think?" the priest replied, stepping aside to let the noblemen through. "It was carved by some of the best carpenters in Astralogos."

"It's gorgeous," Cyril remarked, running a hand along the pulpit and feeling how smooth it was. "This must be... polished oak, I'm guessing?"

The priest nodded. "I believe so, yes."

"I can only imagine how long it must have taken to carve all these fine details. They did a great job at imitating the era," Cyril said, before turning back to his cousin with a smile. "What do you think, Joffery?"

"I think it looks nice," Joffery agreed, nodding politely. His knowledge of architecture was vastly lacking in comparison to Cyril, so most of what he was saying was lost on the young Jade. "I, um, I really like the windows."

"Ah yes, it's hard not to love those windows," the priest said. "They're marvelous works of art, aren't they?"

"Yes! They're quite lovely." Joffery stared up at one of the stained glass windows, which depicted a scene straight out of the Book of Woo. Joffery smiled. "It reminds me of the hymn!" And then, without warning, he started to sing.

"Our Feathered Lord, our god of peace,
Forever bid all strife to cease..."

The priest seemed surprised at first, but then gave an amused smile. Of course, this was Lord Everett's singing son. He waited for the young lord to finish singing before speaking again. "Ah yes, that is one of my favorite hymns."

Joffery beamed. "Really? Mine too! But I also really like Woo of Love; it harmonizes so beautifully!"

"Haha, indeed it does," the priest agreed. "It also conveys a beautiful message, I should add."

"Yes! I love beautiful songs with beautiful messages," Joffery said. "Which reminds me of one of my other favorite songs..."

Cyril smiled in amusement as Joffery burst into another song. Joffery was at least as passionate about music as he was about architecture, and he knew what it was like to be caught up in something you were passionate about. Cyril decided to leave him to it, returning his own attention to the carvings on the pulpit. The two lords' interests didn't always coincide, but that was alright. They enjoyed each other's company, and that was what mattered.

---

"Well, that was fun!" Joffery remarked, once they had had their fill of admiring the scenery and were on their way back to Oberon Manor.

"Yes, it was," Cyril agreed. "I'm glad we could do that together."

"Me too! I always enjoy spending time with you, cousin," Joffery said with a smile. "We should do this more often!"

"Haha. Well, I'm up for that, next time you're in Astralogos," Cyril replied. "Or when I'm in Solis."

"That would be great!" Joffery grinned at his cousin. "And maybe we could find a nice building for you to look at!"

Cyril laughed. "I'd like that."

Joffery nodded in agreement, before singing a short tune.

"Family lasts forever, a bond that never fades,
I'm glad that we are family, the Oberons and Jades~!"

The two of them laughed and talked all the way back to Oberon Manor. When they did arrive, they were surprised to find that their respective fathers were waiting for them in the entrance hall. They had been conversing with each other, but when Joffery and Cyril walked in, Lord Everett Jade turned to them, standing from where he had been sitting.

"Ah, there you two are. I was starting to worry," he said.

"Sorry, Father. We got caught up admiring the scenery," Joffery replied.

Cyril laughed, nudging Joffery teasingly. "Really? I seem to remember you getting caught up serenading pretty girls."

"Ah, yes, well..." Joffery chuckled, patting down his hair. "There may have done some of that, too."

"Of course there was." Everett rolled his eyes. "Regardless, it's good to see you both safe."

"I told you they would be alright, my lord," said Lord Achilles Oberon, standing from his own seat and wandering up to Cyril. He smiled, adding, "I have good faith in my boy."

"Thank you, Father," Cyril replied, smiling back. "So I assume the meeting went well?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Achilles nodded, glancing back at Everett. "It's always good doing business with House Jade."

Everett nodded in turn. "It went well. And I'm glad you two were able to enjoy yourselves, as well."

"Yes, it was quite nice," Joffery said. "It's almost a shame we have to leave!"

"All good things must come to an end, as they say." Achilles chuckled in amusement, shaking his head. "But first, it's just about dinner time. Would you two care to join us?"

"It would be our pleasure," Everett replied.

With that, the four noblemen started toward the dining hall, talking amongst themselves along the way. Though the two Houses didn't often get the opportunity to just spend time together, they were family, and they cherished every chance they had.

[PFA]

And another collab with Shinko! We ain't never gonna stop with Escalus family drama 8D

Heir Raising

SPOILER: Click to show

All of House Jade rejoiced the day they found out one of Lord Eduard’s sons had magic. It was too early to say how much magic he had—he was just a child, only beginning to show his magic potential—but the fact that he had magic at all was proof that their efforts were finally paying off. Slowly but surely, magic would be brought back into the Jade bloodline.

It was only a matter of time before word spread to the rest of the province. One of the most enthusiastic to receive the news was Lord Silas Escalus, the young Jade’s maternal grandfather. His daughter Eleanor had been married to Lord Eduard as part of the plan to breed magical talent back into House Jade, and he was quick to send a letter of congratulations along to his daughter and son-in-law upon hearing that the plan had finally borne fruit.

It wasn’t until a few months later that Silas was afforded the opportunity to give these congratulations in person- he had his duties to see to in Heleos after all- but eventually he did get to pay a visit to the Corvid capital as part of a meeting between the Jades, Curys, and Escaluses to deal with a recent smuggling operation along the Kinean border.

Accompanying Silas on this trip was his twenty-two year old heir, Olander Escalus. Though Olander had inherited the stormy grey eyes that were prominent in the Escalus line, he had a straight, lank hanging mop of pale brown hair rather than the dark dirty-blonde of his father. Olander was young, but proud, being a talented mage himself the Escalus heir was happy to welcome his nephew and watch him grow in the ways of sorcery.

“It’s good to see you made it here safely, Lord Escalus,” said Lord Eduard, as the Escalus entourage arrived at Jade Manor. Though he technically was not yet the Lord of House Jade, he had been handling most of the diplomatic affairs ever since his father fell ill. “Allow me to formally welcome you and your family to Solis.”

Lady Eleanor, standing dutifully beside her husband, smiled softly. “It is good to see you again.”

“My Lord Jade,” Silas replied formally, bowing to Eduard. His own expression softening as he turned his gaze to Eleanor, he added, “And it is always a pleasure to see you again, my Sunshine.”

Standing slightly behind his father, Olander’s mouth quirked up just slightly at one corner to hear the old nickname. Eleanor herself looked a little bit sheepish to hear it, but didn’t comment.

“Lord Curys sent word that he would be running a bit late,” Eduard continued. He did his best to keep his tone neutral as he added, “He said he wasn’t feeling well.”

Silas and Olander traded a weary glance at this, and the lord of Escalus was hard put not to roll his eyes. “Not feeling well. Indeed. Perhaps the Curys might benefit from the construction of a healing college in Araydian to see to their patriarch’s ‘poor health.’” He shrugged. “I suppose for now we shall have to wait for him.”

Eduard smiled wryly, but chose not to comment. “Yes, I suppose we shall. In the meantime, you must be weary from your travels. Why don’t you come inside? We can have the servants prepare you something to drink.”

“That would be lovely, Lord Jade,” Olander put in, speaking up for the first time. Silas smiled, nodding his agreement.

“Even if the issues in the west must wait for Lord Curys, it would be nice to have some time to catch up. It’s been very quiet in Heleos, with all my daughters moved away and Olander taking his time about giving me grandkids to spoil.”

Olander went a bit red at this, coughing, but did not comment. Eduard laughed softly.

“Well, at least you have plenty of grandchildren here,” he remarked. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a little spoiling.”

“But not too much spoiling,” Eleanor added. Now it was Silas’ turn to laugh.

“No worries, Eleanor, I would never ruin your little ones for you. But you wouldn’t deny an old man his simple pleasures, would you?” He winked. “I must say, my very first grandson was quite the Woomas present.”

“Haha, yes, birthing an heir was a nice Woomas present for us, too.” Eduard smiled, turning and starting back toward the manor. “Speaking of whom, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

“And I him,” Silas replied cheerfully. “I’m sure Everett is growing into a splendid young lord. He’d be thirteen now, unless I miss my count?”

“Thirteen, yes,” Eleanor confirmed. “He’ll be fourteen come winter.”

Olander followed his father and the Jades into the manor, but for a split second an expression of confusion flashed across his face as Eduard spoke. He pushed it aside a moment later, his eyes perfectly polite again, and added, “Woo, that makes me feel like a real slacker- my sister has a thirteen year old son and I’ve no children yet at all.”

Eleanor gave an amused smile. “Oh, don’t worry, Olander. You still have time.”

They continued making small talk on their way through the manor, taking the time to catch up on each other’s lives since they last saw each other. They soon arrived at a private sitting room, where Lord Eduard asked the servants to bring them some nice herbal tea.

“So Lord Jade,” Olander said, as the sat down with their drinks. “I understand you attended the wedding of the Stallion heir last year- how was Bern?”

Eduard took a measured sip of his tea as he pondered how best to answer the question. “…Well, the ceremony was nice.”

Olander blinked, a little confused by the brevity. He glanced at Silas, who cleared his throat. “I understand it’s a lovely countryside- if a bit rough for travelling.”

“Oh, yes, of course. It’s a beautiful place,” Eduard agreed. “It’s nothing like Corvus, of course—very mountainous, and much colder. But I did enjoy the visit.”

Silas chuckled. “I suppose it’s all a matter of what you’re used to. I know when I come here to Solis during winter it feels quite a bit nippier than in Heleos.” He glanced at Eleanor with a smile. “Must have been an adjustment for you, the first few winters- but at least we weren’t sending you to Bern!”

“Believe me, I am grateful for that,” Eleanor replied. “The cold weather aside, I’m not certain I could handle the Bernian lifestyle.”

“Heh.” Eduard gave an amused smile. “I’d like to say they aren’t all riotous drunkards, but…”

“Father?”

Eduard glanced toward the door, and was greeted with the sight of a familiar dark-haired boy standing in the doorway. Eduard smiled. “Ah, Everett! You’ve finished with your studies for the day, then?”

The young Lord Everett nodded. “Yes, father.”

“Come on in, then! Say hello to your grandfather,” Eduard beckoned.

Again, Everett nodded, stepping into the room and smiling at Silas. “It’s good to see you.”

Silas smiled warmly, standing and offering a hand to the young lord to shake. Everett accepted it readily. “Likewise, my dear boy. It’s been far too long- I swear by Woo, you’ve added at least two inches since I saw you last.”

“Father could you have chosen a cornier thing to say?” Olander asked, dry amusement in his voice. He nodded politely to Everett, giving a smile of his own. “It’s good to see you well, young lord.”

“It has been a while, yes,” Everett agreed. “How are things in Heleos?”

“It’s been a bit rainier than usual, and we’ve had issues with flooding in the northernmost parts of the region, but other than that mostly business as usual.” Silas replied amiably. Sitting back down, he asked “And how are things here with you? Your studies going well I trust? I expect in another few years you’ll be helping your father with the estate, isn’t that exciting?”

“Yes, they’re going well. And yes, I will,” Everett replied. “I hope to be able to handle the responsibility well.”

“I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job, Everett,” Eduard said with a smile. “I have good faith in you.”

Everett returned the smile. “Thank you, father.”

Olander frowned, his expression troubled, but he didn’t say anything. Unaware of his son’s lapse in mood, Silas chuckled. “Indeed you will, dear boy. You’ve excellent examples to follow after all.” At this Silas bowed his head to Eduard and winked at Eleanor. With a crooked smile he added, “Just take care to watch your health a little better that Lord Curys and I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, er…” Everett blinked. He glanced at his parents, who were sharing carefully amused smiles. “I’ll be sure to do that, then.”

“But really, you’ll do fine,” Eduard assured him. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Olander took a sip of his tea, his grey eyes thoughtful as he looked between the Jades. There was the tiniest hint of a frown on his face, but he hid it behind the teacup. The conversation moved on to other topics, and he picked them up as readily as his father and the Jades, but there was a faint light of worry in his eyes whenever he looked at the young Lord Everett.

* * * * *

Later in the evening, after Lord Curys had finally shown and the meeting was done and over with, Olander found Eleanor alone, sitting in the manor gardens. Smiling cheerfully, he approached her.

“Sister, there you are,” the Escalus heir said with good humor. “I was wondering if we might go for a walk without the whole retinue in tow? We could use some time to catch up without having to dance diplomatic circles.”

Eleanor blinked, a little surprised by the offer, but nonetheless smiled. “Certainly. That sounds nice.”

“Splendid!” Olander said. He turned, holding out an arm for his sister. “I understand congratulations are in order- one of your sons has recently shown signs of magical talent?”

“Yes, Roderick has,” Eleanor replied, taking his arm and hefting herself up from her seat. “We’re all quite pleased.”

“I’m delighted for you,” Olander replied, smiling broadly and starting to walk down the moonlit path. “As was Father- he knows how frustrating things have been for the Jades in this endeavor, and we can’t congratulate you enough that the efforts have finally borne fruit.” He looked up at the branches of a laurel overhead, his stormy eyes thoughtful. “Still, I can’t help but wonder…”

“What is it?”

“Well it’s about Everett,” Olander replied, looking at Eleanor with concern in his eyes. “I can’t help but notice you’re still giving him training in diplomacy and the running of an estate. Isn’t it well… a little misleading for the poor fellow?”

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “…Misleading? What do you mean?”

The Escalus heir shrugged. “Well it never hurts to have a sibling on hand who can take over in absentia or if the worst happens but… Eleanor, surely it isn’t right to string the boy’s hopes along when Roderick will be the one taking over from Lord Eduard.”

There was a pause. Eleanor stopped in her tracks, looking up at her brother incredulously. “What? Why would you think that?”

Olander looked baffled. “I… what do you mean? Lord Patrick has been working tirelessly to wed his descendants to talented mages to help foster a restoration of magic into the Jade bloodline. It only stands to reason that a son who was born a mage would be the heir- to anchor that bloodline and restore the Jades to their former glory.”

“We’ve never discussed any such thing,” Eleanor replied. “And… Everett has been training for lordship since childhood. Why would we change that now?”

“I’m sure Everett is a good boy,” Olander said with a shrug. “He seems diligent and hardworking- I’m sure he’ll go far in life. But ought not the ruler of the foremost magical region in Kyth be a mage? It’s really for the better of the country as a whole. The forces that lead to the decline of magic from the Jade bloodline were outside their control, but now at last things are on the mend. This is a gift from the Woo- it would be foolish to waste it on sentiment.”

“Everett is our eldest son, Olander,” Eleanor spoke plainly. “The heir is always the eldest son.”

The Escalus folded his arms, looking uncomfortable. “Yes, that’s true… and tradition is important here in Corvus. But there is a fine line between honoring tradition, and worshipping it to the point of stagnation. Sometimes you have to make exceptions.”

“Olander…” Eleanor sighed heavily, pinching her brow as she tried to collect her thoughts. “…I understand what you’re saying, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Olander frowned. “Why not?”

“As I said, Everett has been training since childhood,” Eleanor explained. “If we were to disinherit him now, simply because he’s not a mage, well… it wouldn’t be fair to him.”

“Life isn’t fair, Eleanor,” Olander pointed out. “And politics certainly aren’t fair. You have to look at the situation logically.”

He drew his wand from the holster at his side, and with a muttered incantation, he plucked a leaf from the laurel overhead and began to make it dance about in the air. “His training need not go to waste. He could act as an advisor and confidant for his brother- and as I said, he could step up in absentia when Roderick is elsewhere. But the Jade heir should- must- be a mage.”

Eleanor bristled. “And what gives you the right to tell House Jade what it must do?”

Olander winced, dropping the spell on the leaf and holding up his hands defensively. “Easy, sis, I’m not trying to overstep my bounds- I’m just trying to give you some advice, sibling to sibling. I just worry is all. I’m not trying to make any implications about my nephew’s competence, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Good,” Eleanor huffed. “Because one thing I am certain of is that Everett will make a great House Lord, mage or not.”

The Escalus heir sighed. “I can’t change your opinion if you’ve so firmly decided on it, Eleanor, but… try to keep an open mind? Sometimes if you’re too close to a situation bias can cloud your judgement.”

“…I would have to discuss it with Eduard,” Eleanor eventually said. “But I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Olander gave a somewhat exasperated sigh. “I guess it’s easier here. House Jade does have the political clout to back themselves up even if the lords don’t have magic. Perhaps my perspective comes from a flawed place- I know the minor houses can’t really afford to sacrifice any advantages for sentimentality.”

Eleanor frowned at this. “It’s more than mere sentiment when it involves your own children, Olander. If it brews resention…”

“If he’s really the sort of boy who understand politics and would make a good lord, certainly he’d understand that his parents have to make the best decisions they possibly can for the better good of the House and of Kyth,” Olander retorted, starting to get a bit irritated himself now. “Honestly, Eleanor, if magic is allowed to die out in Kyth it will spell the end of us! We will have no defenses against the magical forces in Courdon, as if we don’t have enough issues with their slave raiders oozing up over the border! You grew up in Heleos, you know that!”

“Of course I know that,” Eleanor spat. “Believe me, I’m just as concerned about our fading magic as anyone else—honestly, you act as though I’m squelching Roderick’s magical talent altogether.”

“If he’s relegated to a cadet branch of the family line and his potential is not maximized, you may as well be,” Olander snapped, his face going slightly red with anger. “The heir carries on the family name, and the legacy, and is expected to have the most children. Cadet lines fade into obscurity and are forgotten about!”

“And you’re suggesting we send Everett, the son we’ve held in high expectations for thirteen years, to such a fate? Simply because he isn’t a mage?” Eleanor questioned. “I don’t know how Everett would take that, but I certainly don’t want to put him in competition with his brother.”

“Woo, you’re not even listening to a word I’m saying are you?” the Escalus heir demanded. “I always thought you were the sensible one, Eleanor. Father is a kind, sentimental man, and it rubbed off on a lot of us, but you seemed to have a head on your shoulders. I guess you take more after him than I realized.”

“So kindness is an unfavorable trait now?” Eleanor’s lip curled at the suggestion. “Sensibility isn’t the same thing as callousness, Olander. Apparently I was wrong to assume you knew that.”

“Callousness?” Olander bleated. “I was trying to talk you out of giving the boy false hopes for his own good! I thought you were humoring him! I wasn’t being callous, I was looking out for him! Am I not his uncle? Am I not your brother?”

“I’m not so foolish as to lie to my own children just to spare their feelings,” Eleanor pointed out. “I had hoped that, as your elder sister, you would have more faith in me.” Scoffing, she added, “As the next Lady of Solis, you should have more faith in me.”

The Escalus noble stiffened. “So now you’re pulling rank on me. Fine, Lady Jade. I am sorry to have troubled you. I’ll keep my council to myself from now on.”

“I would suggest that you do, Lord Escalus,” Eleanor replied cooly. Without another word, she turned and walked away, never once looking back.

* * * * *

From that point on, the two siblings never spoke of the matter again. It was clear that neither of them had any intention to change their stance, and as time went on, it only festered resentment between them. Eleanor did, after tempers had cooled, mention it to her husband as she said she would, but Eduard agreed with her—they would not be disinheriting Everett for his lack of magic. Olander, for his part, was aggravated at what he perceived to be short-sightedness on the part of his sister, and kept absolutely to his word regarding the last words he’d spoken to her that night. He kept his opinions and advice to himself, spoke to the Jades only on matters of diplomacy, and when he did he kept his input short, to the point, and often stiffly formal.

Though Lord Silas did notice the unspoken tension between his two children, and perhaps might have been able to help them reconcile their differences, he unfortunately passed away less than a year later, making Lord Olander the next Lord of House Escalus. Personal relations between Olander and the Jades would remain frosty through Eduard’s eventual ascension as the Lord of House Jade, until Everett eventually took over from his father in 1292. If Olander had any feelings about Everett taking over Corvus as Eleanor had promised he would years ago, he kept them to himself, maintaining a neutral politeness whenever he and Everett spoke to one another.

Overall, it seemed the issue had been largely buried… until one fateful day in 1299, when it came back to bite them.

* * * * *

Lady Eleanor had been passing through the halls of Jade Manor, on her way to the gardens for a refreshing walk, when she saw him.

At first glance, she could have sworn that it was her brother, for he was the spitting image of Lord Olander himself. However, he must have been about twenty years younger, and—perhaps more noticeably—not wearing the colors of House Escalus. He didn’t seem to notice her, too preoccupied with his own thoughts. She decided not to disturb him for the moment, instead watching curiously from afar what he was doing.

The young man was looking down at something in his hand, an expression somewhere between grief and bitter anger on his face. He clenched his hand into a fist around whatever it was, and with a casual flick of his wrist, tossed it into a roaring fireplace nearby. Swiping his hand under his eyes roughly, as if trying to scrub something away from his face, the young man turned towards the nearby doors that led out of the manor, and walked out of the building.

Eleanor frowned, waiting until she was sure he was gone before cautiously stepping into the room. She moved to the fireplace, trying to catch a glimpse of what it was that the young man had cast into it. As soon as she saw its vibrant blue color, as well as the orange that almost blended in with the fire, she instantly knew what it was: it was a brooch.

From House Escalus.

Eleanor was stunned. For a moment, she considered following after the young man and attempting to speak to him, but she wasn’t sure how he would take that—he may not have wanted to speak to her at all. Eventually, she turned to leave the room, deciding that perhaps she wouldn’t go to the gardens after all. Right now, she needed answers.

* * * * *

“Everett?”

Lord Everett looked up from the paperwork he was doing to be greeted with the sight of his mother, standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face. Inwardly, he sighed. Already, he could take a guess at what this was about.

“Who was that young man here just earlier?” she asked, sure enough.

“From House Escalus?” Everett guessed. When Eleanor nodded in confirmation, he continued. “That was Anders… your nephew.”

Eleanor frowned. She didn’t like where this was going. “…What was he doing here?”

Everett sighed, pinching his brow as he tried to collect his thoughts. “I don’t know if you know this already, but… apparently Lord Olander decided to disinherit Anders, his eldest son, in favor of his younger brother. He came here to cut ties with House Escalus.”

There was a pause. And then, Eleanor’s expression darkened. “Is it because Anders isn’t a mage?”

“…Yes, essentially.”

“Of course it is.” Eleanor let out an exasperated groan. “I warned him this would happen, but I guess he didn’t listen. Of course he didn’t.”

“You knew this would happen?” Everett questioned, quirking an eyebrow. “Did you speak to him about it?”

Everett wasn’t quite sure how to interpret the look of horrified realization on his mother’s face. After a moment of careful silence, she finally said, “Not… about this specifically, no.”

“But you did speak about it.” Everett frowned. “…Or something similar.”

Eleanor took a deep breath, working through how best to explain this. At this point, Everett had a right to know, but… she still wasn’t sure how he would take it. “I don’t… know if you remember this, but he came here to Solis, twenty years ago,” she explained carefully. “…Shortly after we discovered that Roderick was a mage.”

Everett tensed, realizing where she was going with this. “…Are you implying what I think you are?”

“He thought that we should make Roderick the heir,” Eleanor said. “In place of you.”

Everett fell deathly silent. In retrospect, it made sense—Olander’s obvious bias toward magic, the noticeably chilly relations between his mother and her former House… but that only made the revelation all the more infuriating. It wasn’t as though it was his fault he wasn’t a mage, and he, like his predecessors, had worked hard to prove himself without magic. The thought that someone would completely disregard that…

“We said no, of course,” Eleanor continued. “I tried to tell him that it was a bad idea—I certainly didn’t want to put you in competition with your brother—but he wouldn’t listen to a word I said.” With a huff, she added, “And this just proves it.”

“I can’t say I’m not grateful. I wouldn’t have wanted to be in competition with Roderick, or any of my siblings, over something so…” Everett groaned, massaging his temples. Dear Woo, he needed patience right now. “I mean, it’s not that magic isn’t important, but—”

“It’s not worth splitting up families for, no.” Eleanor frowned. “Poor Anders. I wish there was something I could do for him, but I’m not sure if he would want anything to do with me.”

“…I’m not sure if he’s aware you’re his aunt,” Everett pointed out. “He never mentioned anything of it.”

“Hmph. Of course Olander would do something so petty,” Eleanor remarked bitterly. “Still, I wouldn’t wish to frighten him. But there must be something I can do…”

Everett sighed. “Well, if you do decide to do something, I’m sure he would appreciate it.”

“Hm. I’ll think on it,” Eleanor said. After a moment, she sighed as well, turning to leave the room. “Well, I suppose I’d best let you get back to your work. I hope the situation with Anders turns out well.”

“Thank you,” Everett replied. “So do I.”

And with that, Eleanor went on her way, lost in her own thoughts. Poor Anders must have felt so alone, having come all the way out to Solis to get away from a family that didn’t appreciate his worth. The thought of it angered her. She had warned Olander about this, but he didn’t listen to her at all. What would become of House Escalus in the wake of this disaster?

In the meantime, if Anders was going to be staying with House Jade, she wanted to be sure that he felt welcome here. Perhaps there was something she could do to help with that…

* * * * *

Anders rubbed his arms, clenching his teeth a little and shivering in spite of himself. Solis was much chillier than Heleos, being a good bit further north, and he’d spent every copper he’d had to his name just trying to get to Solis. The runaway son of Olander didn’t have any money for winter weight clothing. Perhaps February had not been the best time to make his escape north- too late for regrets now, though. Not that he had many. Being away from House Escalus was like breathing clean, fresh air after a storm. That omnipresent sensation of smothering indifference was finally lifted. He wasn’t the disappointment, the reject here. He wasn’t important to anyone here either, of course, but that was alright. He would prove himself in due time.

One thing he’d not anticipated though, was the odd feeling of isolation. He had registered with the fireknights, and slept in the barracks with the other trainees, worked and ate with them, so he was never alone, but… he didn’t know these people. And after years of weathering his family’s scorn, he didn’t want to get to know them. Why bother? He would be an outstanding fireknight, he would prove his talents in combat and military strategy, but he didn’t want or need to try to get them to like him. After all, when had he ever succeeded at that before?

Or so he told himself. Such thoughts couldn’t keep the bitter loneliness at bay. At least at home he’d had people who he knew, even if Dimitri was the only really friendly face. Here, he was just one of the crowd, unknown and unimportant.

Most of the other trainees were headed to the mews after the day’s practice session, but Anders had not yet been assigned a phoenix. Instead, he went back to the barracks directly, hoping to get out of the biting chill of the late winter air and into someplace warm. He walked in to find the place empty, which was at once a relief and something of a disappointment. He didn’t have to try and make conversation, but it might have been nice if someone noticed and acknowledged him, even just to say hi…

Scowling, he pushed the moroseness aside. It was pointless to dwell on it. Instead, he strode over to his bunk, meaning to grab some fresh clothes clothes so he could take a bath after the workout before heading to dinner. However, something glinting caught his eye, and he realized there was something sitting on his bed that hadn’t been there when he left that morning- a thick, folded pile of forest green cloth, and atop it a round clasp with the emblem of House Jade on it.

Wha… Anders picked up the clasp, looking at it in surprise and confusion. It was beautiful, well polished and without any scratches or scuffs that would indicate prior use. Setting it back down on the bed, he picked up the cloth, allowing the folds to fall out of it- it was a hooded cloak. The material was soft and plush under his hands, clearly good quality, and he could see where the Jade clasp would fasten it at the neck.

Before he could inspect the garment further, however, something small and white slipped out of the folds and fell to the floor. Thoroughly confused now, Anders set the cloak back down on the bed and knelt down to pick up the fallen object- a piece of paper, with tight, tidy letters scrawled across one side.

“Anders, I know how cold it can get in Solis compared to Heleos, especially during the winter. I thought you might appreciate something to help keep you warm. I hope you can come to feel at home here.”

Anders stared at the note, his heart hammering in his chest. There was no signature, no seal, no indication of who had written it- but from the way it was phrased, whoever it was seemed to know exactly who he was, and possibly some of why he had come to be in Solis. But… he’d told no one that story except for Lord Everett. Most of the fireknight officers knew who Anders’ family was by his last name, but not the circumstances that had led to him leaving them. Certainly he hadn’t shared anything that immensely personal with the other trainees whose names he still didn’t know. He didn’t think Everett would have sent the note or the cloak, he didn’t seem that sentimental, especially over the son of a minor noble who he’d just met a few days ago.

He stood up, turning to sit on the edge of the bunk. He hesitantly reached towards the cloak again, running a hand across the soft material. Whoever had sent this, they had money- the clasp alone would have cost a decent number of runestones, but the cloak… you didn’t get textiles of this quality from just any old tailor.

Anders had no idea who his benefactor was, but… they clearly knew him. And to make such a gesture anonymously, without expectation of gratitude or reciprocation…

The young man’s throat closed, and he squeezed his eyes shut against a sudden blurring of his vision. It was a simple gift, a practical one, but it was possibly the most thoughtful thing anyone had done for him in years. He tried to cough to clear his throat, but the noise emerged as more of a strangled wheeze. His eyes were burning as well as blurred now, and he unconsciously clenched his hand over the paper of the note...

The sound of the door opening snapped him back to reality, and he quickly turned his face aside lest the other trainees coming into the barracks see his expression and question it. Though his breathing was still a little ragged, by the time any of the others had gotten close to him he’d managed to school his expression into impassivity once more. He stood up, grabbing the clothes he’d come into the barracks for and- stopping briefly to smooth out the creases in the paper from where he’d inadvertently crumbled it- putting the note in his drawer. Gingerly, as if afraid he’d damage the materials, he picked up the cloak and the pin, draping them over the rest of his clothes before he headed out of the barracks and towards the washroom.

I don’t know who you are, but… thank you.

[PFA]

This fic happens shortly after Heir Raising!

Perception

SPOILER: Click to show

"He thought that we should make Roderick the heir. In place of you."

The words were still echoing in Everett's mind by the time he finished his paperwork, and it aggravated him just how much it was bothering him. It wasn't as though he held any ill will against his brother for having magic, and it wasn't his or anyone else's fault that Everett didn't have magic. But that his own uncle would hold it against him...

Get a hold of yourself, Everett. It doesn't matter what he thinks, he thought to himself, massaging his temples irritably. You've more than proven yourself even with your magic deficiency. Even as he told himself this, though, his face contorted itself into a scowl. Urgh. Even the phrase sounds so utterly crippling.

Thankfully, the sound of the door distracted him from his thoughts. For a moment, he thought it might be his mother again, but it wasn't—instead he was greeted with the familiar sight of his light-haired elven advisor, Peter.

"Are you busy, my lord?" he asked.

"Not anymore, no," Everett replied, collecting up the paperwork he was working on and setting it aside. "Did you need something?"

"I was hoping I could get your approval for something," Peter said, pausing at he glanced over the Jade Lord thoughtfully. "But that can wait. Are you alright, my lord?"

Everett was surprised by the inquiry, but in hindsight, perhaps he shouldn't have been—Peter was an elf, after all, and they were notoriously good at reading emotions. Everett sighed. "It's just... political complications, that's all."

"Is there any way I can help?" Peter asked. "That's what I'm here for, after all."

"Not unless you can turn back time and change Lord Escalus' outlook," Everett remarked dryly. "He's disinherited his eldest son because he wasn't a mage, and now I'm left to sort out the aftermath."

Peter frowned. "That truly is a shame. Just because he doesn't have magic doesn't mean he wouldn't be a good heir."

"Mmph." Everett scowled, glancing absently down at the stack of paperwork on his desk. "I couldn't agree more."

There was a pause. Then Peter, apparently reading the Jade Lord's expression again, spoke. "You're a fine leader even without magic, my lord."

"...Thank you, Peter. I appreciate that." Everett let out a sigh. "But not everyone thinks that way, clearly. ...It aggravates me, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Well, it could be worse, my lord," Peter offered with a shrug. "You could have to carry a wand with you in order to avoid backlash."

Everett snorted. "I think it's a few generations too late for that to work."

Suddenly, for a brief moment, Peter's face fell flat, his gaze turning distant. "...Yes, so it is."

The tone didn't go unnoticed by Everett, who looked up at Peter with a raised brow. "Is something the matter?"

"No, it's nothing. Forget I said anything," Peter insisted, returning to his usual pleasant demeanor as if nothing had happened. "You shouldn't let it get you down, my lord. Perhaps it's best not to dwell on it for now."

"...I suppose you're right," Everett admitted. Clearing his throat, he decided to change the topic. "You said you had something to discuss with me?"

"Ah, yes. Well, some of the other advisors have been discussing the possibility of..."

---

Later that evening, Advisor Peter found himself in a place he didn't often visit. In the back of the grand estate that made up Jade Manor was a cemetery, where Jade Lords from eras past had been laid to rest. He didn't usually come here, not liking to dredge up the memories associated with it, but today, he found himself drawn to a particular grave.

"Lord Abram Jade
1184-1248"

"It's a shame these markers can't truly capture the essence of the people who rest here. It sounds so bland and lifeless," Peter remarked, to no one in particular. With a sad smile, he ran a hand along the smooth marble that made up the gravestone. "You're just another name in the history books to them."

In hindsight, he wished he had realized it sooner. Nothing lived forever, however much it may have felt like it as an elf. Especially as an elf living among humans, forced to watch so many generations pass by you as you remained unchanging, always remembering those days gone by. By letting yourself get too attached, you were only setting yourself up for heartbreak.

It was a mistake that Peter Jade had made once.

Though Peter continued smiling, it was a hollow, emotionless one, contrasted by the tears rolling silently down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, old friend."

It was a mistake that Peter Jade had vowed never to make again.

[PFA]

Have some random fluff! 8D I have no idea if this is canon, lol, but here it is anyway.

I Love You

SPOILER: Click to show

It was St. Omer's Day, and all of Corvus was in celebration. In order to commemorate St. Omer's deliverance of the people from a great famine many years ago, a grand feast was held, with all the noble lords of Corvus in attendance, as well as a handful of peasants who were lucky enough to be allowed entry.

"Quite a vibrant crowd, isn't it?" remarked Lady Satine, new wife of Lord Everett Jade, looking out across the dining hall. This would be her first time attending the event, given that they didn't celebrate it in her home region of Veresia.

"It's definitely more... spirited, than some of the other celebrations," Everett agreed, frowning at some particularly rowdy peasants in the back of the room. "At least they haven't been too disruptive this year."

Satine smiled fondly at him. "At least. It sounds like they're enjoying themselves, though." Gesturing to her plate, she added, "The food is wonderful, too. The cooks have really outdone themselves."

"It's a special occasion," Everett replied, pausing to take a careful sip of wine. Glancing down at the glass, he added, "I'm told this is a new blend, brought in from Raylier just this morning."

"Really?" Satine followed Everett's lead, sampling the wine. "Well, it's very good."

"Agreed." Everett nodded, setting the glass down and cutting into his meat.

The feast proceeded as normal, thankfully without too much disruption from drunken peasants. But then again, peasants weren't the only ones who could have a bit too much to drink—which Everett was all too aware of, and as such, he made certain to restrain himself.

Unfortunately, not everyone was quite as cautious as he was... but he never would have expected who would be the one to outdo herself this time.

"Will there be anything else to this celebration after the feast, do you think?" Satine asked, letting out a small giggle. "Maybe there could be music. Or dancing! I'd like that."

"...There won't be any dancing, no." Everett frowned, grabbing Satine's wrist before she could take another sip of wine. "Er, Satine, I think you've had a bit much wine."

"Really? I haven't had that much." Satine blinked, looking down at her wine glass in confusion. After a moment, she started to laugh again. "I guess this new wine is a little stronger than I thought!"

"...Apparently so," Everett agreed, discreetly pushing away his own wine glass. He wasn't about to have a repeat of the king's wedding.

"Thank you, Everett. That could have been a disaster." Satine smiled, giving her husband a warm hug. "I love you."

Everett was a little startled by the gesture, but smiled, returning the gesture with a one-armed hug. "I love you, too."

...Which would have been fine, except that where he let go just a few moments later, she just continued clinging to him, nestling into his chest. "Mm... you're warm and cuddly."

"Er." Everett blushed, glancing around the room for a moment to confirm that people were looking at them. His blush deepened, and he tried to gently push her off. "I, er, thank you, but—"

"Is something wrong?" Satine asked, looking up at him with a frown.

"No, it's just... can we not do this in public?" he replied quietly. "People are staring at us."

Satine was silent for a moment, as if trying to determine what he meant by that. And then, in a much louder voice than Everett would have preferred, she said, "Oh! I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Er, no, it's not like— I mean—" Everett fumbled for a response, turning redder and redder by the minute. "I don't want to make a scene, is all."

"Like at the weddi—"

Everett cleared his throat loudly before she could finish that sentence. "I just don't want to draw too much attention."

"No, no, you're right," Satine agreed, pulling away from Everett and sitting up straight. "We have to make a good impression and all."

"Yes." Everett nodded, returning his attention to his food. Thankfully, even when drunk, Satine was considerate and understanding.

A pause. And then, "Just one kiss?"

Everett raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Surely one kiss wouldn't hurt," Satine said, giving him a pleading look. "Please?"

"I, er..." Everett was surprised by the request, not sure how to react. She had definitely had too much to drink, and he was still worried about causing a scene, but... well, it was just one kiss. So, finally, he nodded. "Well, alright."

Satine smiled warmly, leaning in and giving her husband an affectionate kiss on the lips. Everett returned the kiss, only to be surprised that she had gone for a much more passionate kiss than he had expected. Though he blushed furiously, he didn't push her away, deciding to indulge her for the moment. Maybe no one was paying attention.

A theory that was disproved when somebody in the room started cheering.

Everett turned an undignified shade of red, breaking away from Satine to see who was watching them. The shade only deepened when he realized that, as far as he could tell, everyone in the room was now watching them. And of course—of course—a number of intoxicated peasants had decided to cheer them on, apparently impressed by the display of affection between the Lord of Corvus and his wife.

Satine seemed quite pleased, leaning into Everett's shoulder affectionately—apparently having entirely forgotten her earlier promise not to make a scene. "I love you, Everett."

Though he still felt thoroughly embarrassed, though he hated how everyone was still watching them... Everett let out a relenting sigh, smiling softly and wrapping an arm around Satine's shoulders. There was no point in denying what had already been made blatantly obvious.

"I love you, too, Satine."

[PFA]

Did anyone ask for mood whiplash? Too bad!

Grim News

SPOILER: Click to show

It was another rainy day in Solis, and Everett Jade was staring out the window in thought. When they received the message from House Curys that his father, Lord Eduard, hadn't arrived in Araydian for the negotiations as promised, Everett sent the fireknights to search for him immediately. Though normally he might have waited for the rain to settle, he wasn't sure he could take that chance this time—the road from Solis to Araydian was straight, and impossible to stray from. If Lord Eduard hadn't arrived at his destination, that could only mean that something had...

"Have you received word yet?" came a voice, distracting him from his thoughts. He turned to meet the cloudy blue-gray eyes of his mother, Lady Eleanor, her expression laced with concern. Everett frowned, shaking his head.

"Not yet," he told her. "They're still searching."

Eleanor sighed. "I can only pray that they find him soon. I hope he is alright..."

"Me too, mother," Everett replied simply, returning his attention to the window. Perhaps it was naïve to keep hoping, especially as the hours dragged on with no word, but it was all he could do to keep himself calm as he waited in uncertainty for the news.

Finally, after waiting in anxious silence for some time, the sound of footsteps caught their attention. The two nobles turned toward the source in time to see one of the fireknight Lieutenants enter the room, immediately giving them a respectful bow. "My lord, my lady."

"Did you find him?" Everett asked immediately.

The Lieutenant stood up straight, taking a deep breath. The brief pause was unbearably tense—though from the man's expression, Everett could already tell it was bad news.

"...We did, yes. But it's not good, I'm afraid," the fireknight eventually said. "We found the remains of his carriage in the Kingfisher River. ...And he was still inside."

Everett's blood ran cold at the words. "Are... are you sure it was him?"

"We're positive," the man replied, nodding sadly. "With all the recent rain, there must have been a flood, and his carriage was swept into the river... I'm sorry, my lord, but he didn't survive the ordeal."

"I... I see..." Everett frowned, eyes drifting over to his mother standing beside him. She hadn't said a word this whole time, and even now she could only stand there silently, lip quivering slightly as tears streamed down her normally stoic face. Everett swallowed, struggling to keep his own composure as he tried to let this all sink in.

His father, the Lord of House Jade, was dead. And with him as the eldest son, his father's heir...

"We salvaged as much of the remains from the river as we could. We had Lord Eduard's... well, we had him sent to the undertakers. Beyond that..." The Lieutenant gave another respectful bow. "We await your orders, Lord Everett."

Everett was frozen in place. It wasn't as though he hadn't handled the House's affairs before, but... he'd always had his father to lean back on before, someone he could hand the reigns back to later. But now, those reigns belonged to him. With his father's death, Everett would become the Lord of House Jade.

He always knew this day would come, but he never expected it to come so suddenly. So soon.

"We..." Everett started, pausing to take a deep breath. He needed to breathe. Focus. "We should send word to House Curys. Let them know what's happened. ...And to the other Houses, but House Curys first."

"Is there anything you'd like me to do, my lord?" the Lieutenant asked.

"No. You've done your part; you and your wing should rest up," Everett told him. "But... thank you. For letting us know."

"Of course." The fireknight bowed his head. "I'm just sorry it had to be such grim news. My deepest condolences."

"...Thank you," Everett replied, waving the man away. "You can go now. I should start on that letter."

The Lieutenant gave a final bow, before obediently turning and leaving the room. Once he was gone, Everett sighed, trying to sort through his thoughts. Now that his father was dead, he had so much responsibility, so much to do. He would need to let everyone know that the Lord of Corvus was dead, make arrangements for the funeral... 'Woo, he still didn't have an heir of his own. That was going to be expected of him, but—

He was distracted from his thoughts when Eleanor wrapped her arms around him in a consoling hug. He wasn't sure if she had noticed the look on his face, or if she simply needed the comfort herself... but he returned the hug regardless, finally allowing his composed demeanor to break so he could cry silently into her shoulder. Business could wait, he decided—right now, they both needed some time to grieve.

[PFA]

I wrote this at 2AM last night, it's... special 8D

(Warning for talk of dead babies)

Mistakes

SPOILER: Click to show

It was a cold evening, in the dead of winter, when Lord Charles Jade found himself drowning his sorrows in the wine cellar.

The events played through his mind on endless repeat. Less than half a year ago, his wife had given birth to a beautiful baby boy—Daniel, they called him. He was strong and healthy; unlike their first son, who survived only for a short time after birth. Daniel was different—such a bright, curious child... but sometimes curiosity could be deadly, especially coupled with the blissful ignorance of youth. All it took was one moment of inattention, one moment of carelessness, and then...

Charles downed another glass of wine, trying in vain to block out the memories. The room was spinning, and his coordination was shot to the point that when he tried to pour himself another glass, he instead managed to pour wine all over the table. And yet somehow, it didn't stop the memories from playing through his mind over... and over... and over...

Finally he gave up, slumping onto the wine-soaked table and sobbing into his sleeves. Why couldn't he have prevented this? Why couldn't he have been there to protect Daniel, to keep him safe from harm? It wasn't fair. And now, it was too late.

"Lord Charles?"

He barely acknowledged the sound of the voice, glancing up to see that a woman standing in the doorway—though with his vision as hazy and unfocused as it was, he couldn't immediately tell who it was.

"Helena...?" he mumbled. "Is that you?"

"No, it's me, Satine," came the reply. Slowly, the name registered with the voice in Charles' drunken mind: yes, of course this was Satine, Lord Everett's wife. She strode into the room, moving closer to him. "...Are you alright? Your wife is very worried."

Charles shook his head, choking back a sob. "Nothing is alright. Daniel is dead."

Satine frowned, taking a seat next to him at the table. "I'm sorry. It's not easy losing a child."

"How would..." Charles hiccuped. "How would you know? Y-your boys are just fine."

"Yes, but..." Satine sighed, pondering how to answer the question. "I may not have lost a child of my own, but that doesn't mean I haven't felt the pain of losing family. Your son was my nephew, and..." She bit her lip. "What I mean to say is, I'm so sorry for your loss."

"It's all my fault," Charles whimpered. "I should have been watching him, I-I should have done something, I..."

"None of us could have seen this coming, and neither could you," Satine pointed out. "And none of us blame you for what happened. You can't keep blaming yourself."

Charles looked up at her, his hair mussed and his eyes bloodshot, with a look of utter despair on his face. "Am... am I ever meant to have children?"

"Have faith, Charles," Satine replied, smiling warmly. "I'm sure Lord Woo will bless you to raise a wonderful child someday. You just have to not give up hope."

"Y-you..." Charles sniffed. "You think so?"

Satine nodded. "I do."

Charles was silent for a moment, thinking on this. And then, without warning, he threw his arms around her neck, mumbling into her shoulder, "Thank you. You're... you're so kind."

"Oh, um... you're welcome," Satine replied, surprised by the gesture, but tentatively hugging him back. "I'm happy to help."

"You're really so kind. Prob... probably the kindest person I've ever met," Charles continued, pulling back and looking into Satine's eyes. "I... I love you."

Before Satine could reply, Charles, in his drunken haze, did something he definitely never would have done were he more sober—he lunged forward, planting a kiss right on the lips of his brother-in-law's wife, the Lady of House Jade. Satine gave a muffled yelp of surprise, stunned for a moment, before finally regaining her bearings enough to push him away.

"I-I think you've had too much to drink," she squeaked, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. "I need to get you back to your wife."

"Are you my wife?" Charles asked hazily, as Satine tried to pull him out of his seat.

"N-no, I'm not," Satine replied, turning an even deeper shade of red as Charles leaned on her for support. "Come on, Helena has been looking for you."

"Helena... Helenaaaa..." Charles mumbled, stumbling drunkenly after Satine as she led him out of the room. The poor man was definitely going to have quite a headache in the morning.

---

Thankfully, when she'd managed to get him back to his room, Charles immediately collapsed into bed, falling unconscious. Gratefully, he slept peacefully, with his wife looking after him while he rested. He didn't awake until the next morning, where—sure enough—he was greeted with a powerful, pounding headache.

"Are you alright? I was worried about you," came Helena's voice, which felt unusually loud as it reverberated through his head. He groaned. He really had overdone it, hadn't he?

"Nngh... I'll live," he grumbled, clutching at his head as he forced himself to sit up. Surprisingly, neither his hair nor his clothes smelled of wine—Helena must have cleaned them while he was asleep. "I'm... I'm sorry, Helena. That was stupid of me."

Helena frowned, offering him a potion to help with the headache. "I know you're upset about what happened to Daniel, but you shouldn't drink so much. What if you had died, too?"

"You're right, I really should know better..." Charles gratefully accepted the potion, downing it immediately. He waited for a moment as the potion started to take effect, then let out a sigh of relief. "...I'm sorry if I scared you."

"At least you're alright now," was Helena's response. "I'm glad Lady Satine was able to find you. We were searching everywhere."

That's right... it was Lady Satine who found him in the wine cellar, wasn't it? His memories from the time he entered the wine cellar to the time he woke up that morning were hazy, but he did vaguely remember that she had come in and spoke with him. She tried to comfort him, he was fairly sure; he remembered feeling relieved, and then... then...

Suddenly, his eyes shot wide open. Did he really...? Oh no. Oh dear 'Woo no.

"Is something wrong?" Helena asked, noticing his sudden shift in expression.

"N-no! No, nothing's wrong, I just..." Charles blushed furiously, hastily climbing out of bed. "Do you know where she is? I should, ah— I should talk to her."

"Er, I don't know?" Helena blinked. "She might be in one of the common rooms, but—"

"I'll find her. Thank you," Charles replied hurriedly, leaving the room without another word. If his memories weren't lying to him, if he had really kissed the Lady of House Jade, he was going to be in so much trouble.

Thankfully, it didn't take him long to find her. In fact, he ran into her in the hallway on the way to the nearest common room—almost literally ran into each other, but thankfully they both stopped dead in their tracks before they could.

"Oh! Lord Charles, I was just going to check on you," Satine said. "You're feeling better, I hope?"

"Y-yes, I am, thank you, but, er..." Charles fumbled for the right words, his face now a deep red. "I-I mean, about last night... I didn't mean to, er... well..."

"Oh, um... it's alright," Satine replied, starting to blush as well. "It was an accident."

"Ye... yes. An accident." Charles coughed. "I truly am sorry. That was... truly unprofessional of me."

"It's alright, really," Satine insisted. "Don't worry about it."

The two of them fell into an uncomfortable silence for a moment. It was Charles who ultimately spoke up. "You, ah... you haven't told Lord Everett, have you?"

"Um, no, he..." Satine bit her lip. "...He probably doesn't need to know."

"Ah... yes," Charles agreed. "Let's... maybe not tell him. About that."

Satine nodded. "Let's not."

"Right." There was another pause. And then, Charles coughed. "So, er..."

"Oh, um... how are you holding up?" Satine asked, offering a change of topic. "I hope you're feeling a little better. About Daniel, that is."

"...A little," Charles admitted with a sigh. "It's... still a little hard to accept, but..."

Satine gave a sad smile, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's not easy to move on, I know. But it will be alright. I'm sure Lord Woo is taking good care of him for you."

Charles smiled weakly at that. "...Thank you."

"Of course," Satine said. "Maybe you should get something to eat? I'm sure you're hungry."

"Well, er..." Charles blushed again at this. "A-actually, I rather left in a hurry, so Helena might be—"

"There you are," came Helena's voice, as if on cue. She came up behind Charles, a concerned look on her face. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, er, yes," Charles told her, clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Yes, I just needed to, ah... ask her something."

Satine gave a bashful, but tentatively amused smile at this. "Everything is alright, yes. We were just thinking of getting some breakfast."

Helena raised an eyebrow at the evasive response, but decided not to question it. "That's probably a good idea. It's been a long night."

"Yes, indeed," Charles agreed, turning and starting toward the dining room. "Let's go, then."

Satine and Helena nodded, following after him. It wouldn't be easy, putting their mistakes behind them, but they decided it was the best for everyone that they moved on.

[PFA]

This is a collab with Celestial!

Like Old Rivals

SPOILER: Click to show

Solis was beautiful. Ever since he had glimpsed its white spires towering over the plains, he had been thinking that. But now that he was inside the city, Alain could appreciate that fact even more for himself. The white limestone seemed to shimmer as it caught the light, causing even the slightest chips and imperfections in the rock to look as though they had been put there by a master sculptor. Given how intricately carved every statue adorning the city was, there was clearly no shortage of them here either. However, the city was not completely conquered by the vast paleness of the stone, far from it. Here and there, delicate mosaics decorated the walls, breaking up the monotony with bright colours, aided in the mission by similarly vibrant cloth that covered the market stalls or fluttered out of windows like the wings of the colourful phoenixes that Corvus was known for.

The contrast between it and Destrier could not be greater. His home city, cut from the dark basalt of the mountains, was relatively unadorned due to the problems of keeping intricate carvings maintained in the freezing cold of winter. Its “spires” too, were the chimneys of the alchemist’s quarter or the many workshops which dotted the town, with only the few churches and the grand Cathedral of Saint Absolon even comparing to what jutted into the sky about Solis. Even in the design of their home cities, the two Houses were polar opposites.

From the height of his white horse, Alain glanced around at the people surrounding him. No doubt in his colours and on the magnificent Noblesse, he stood out like an eagle against a blue sky. It was unlikely he would be recognised as the Grand Duke of Bern on his approach to the Jade Manor but nevertheless, he relished whatever attention was cast his way.

Though, if for some reason they decided to cast more than just attention...he smirked down at the silvery stone in its ceramic nest, suspended by a cord around his neck. He had nothing to fear here. It had been a rumour swirling around Kyth that the Jade bloodline had run dry of magic for a while, and though they had never given a proper answer, Alain was confident they would not be so vague unless they had something to hide. But regardless of whether the Jades did have anything or not, it would be foolish of them to try anything. They had to know he would not have come unprepared, and that he was here on legitimate business. The two full prisoner transports and the cohort of knights behind him were proof of that.

Ahead of them, finally, he saw the wide street come to a halt and open up on to an enormous white stone manor house: the residence of the Jades. Their journey was almost at an end. At last, he could finally meet the new Lord of House Jade, at least beyond their brief acquaintance at his wedding. Especially since both of them were lords in their own right.

This should be fun.

Alain pulled his horse to a stop in the courtyard and lifted his hand up, signalling to the knight cohort behind him to halt. He easily slid off the mare and dusted off the worst of the dirt from the road before adjusting his cloak.

“Have somebody take her to the stables, but the majority of you, stay here in formation and guard the prisoners,” he told the commander, “I best go speak to to Lord Eduard Jade to settle matters.”

The man gave him a salute and proceeded to bark out orders at the rest of the knights. Content that he was left in good hands, Alain turned on his heel and proceeded towards the entrance to Jade Manor. Ascending up the steps towards the door, he knocked and waited for an answer.

There was silence for a while, save for the sound of birds calling and the distant hubbub of the city. But finally, the doors swung open, a Jade servant standing on the other side. The young man looked up at the Grand Duke, his eyes widening in surprise, before giving a respectful bow.

“Lord Eduard has been expecting you,” the servant said immediately. “I’ll alert him that you’re here.”

“Thank you,” Alain replied in an even tone, a small smile spreading across his face. He took a single step forward towards the servant. “May I come inside? It has been a long ride and I would not getting a chance to relax before I meet with his Lordship.”

The servant nodded. “Of course. Right this way, please.”

With that, the servant brought Alain inside the manor, which was just as beautifully decorated from the inside as it was from the outside—many tall, vaulted ceilings, intricately carved with ornate feather patterns. The walls were lined with delicate tapestries in varying shades of green and gold, embroidered with various fine imageries. Many of them displayed the familiar House Jade sigil, but others depicted various imageries that appeared to be from the Book of Woo.

Finally, they arrived at one of the reception rooms, and the servant gestured to one of the couches. “Please wait here. I will inform Lord Eduard that you’re here.”

“Thank you,” Alain said quietly, giving the servant a nod of acknowledgement. He sat down on one of the couches, putting his elbow on one of the arm rests and lightly balancing his head in his palm. His eyes took in the details of the finery around him, as relaxed as though he was merely admiring the new growth in the gardens back in Destrier.

The Manor was certainly a grand one, he had no doubts about that. House Jade had spared no expense in making it look magnificent, showing off their wealth and power to all who passed through these halls. There was no denying the craftsmanship and work that had gone into the carvings or the tapestries, and he could certainly respect that, even if it all was a little too on the nose.

Of course, none of the ostentatiousness of a House meant anything if there was not a competent person at the head. The Grand Duke locked his eyes on to the door out of which the servant had left, waiting for Lord Eduard to arrive.

Sure enough, not too much long later, a man dressed in fine green and gold robes stepped into the room, his black hair combed neatly into place. He had a welcoming smile on his face, but he was looking down at Alain with analytical green eyes.

“Welcome to Jade Manor, Grand Duke Alain,” the man said amicably. “I’m glad to see you made it here safely. I’ve been expecting you.”

Alain looked up at the man as he entered, immediately judging by the clothes he wore, it could only be the Jade Lord himself. The Grand Duke lifted his head to meet those green eyes with his own icy blue ones but otherwise he barely shifted from the couch on which he lounged. Eduard was trying to read him and he knew exactly what signals he wanted to send.

“It certainly is a beautiful manor, Lord Eduard, very different from what we have in Destrier,” his voice remained neutral but his smile was calm and pleasant. “Will you sit or shall I stand?”

“Oh, I can sit. I’d hardly wish to stand during our whole conversation,” Lord Eduard replied, immediately moving to take his seat on a couch opposite from Alain. “Would you like something to drink? I can have the servants bring you some tea.”

The Grand Duke smiled, noting the Jade Lord’s friendliness, a trait which was not just put on as cool politeness, though whether it was genuine or because he had some other motive, he could not yet determine.

At the offer of a drink, however, he nodded. “That would be nice, though I would prefer something cold,” Alain replied. “Business is best discussed over a little wine and I have heard good things about Corvid wines.”

“Very well, then.” Eduard gave an amused smile, before flagging down a servant. “Could you bring us two glasses of pinot noir? Thank you kindly.”

“Of course, my lord,” the servant replied with a bow, before hurrying off to fetch the wine. Eduard smiled, returning his attention to Alain.

“How was the trip down? Without incident, I hope,” he said in a very pleasant tone, apparently trying to promote a relaxed atmosphere before going into the meeting. “I know it’s a long trip from Destrier to Solis.”

Alain felt a little twinge of satisfaction as Eduard ordered two glasses. So the Jade Lord was going to drink with him, good. It would make the conversation a little easier. Nevertheless, he did not let anything show on his face but the polite, knowing smile that he continued to wear.

“It takes two weeks under favourable circumstances, longer if they are not so favourable. But I’m sure you will be glad to know that between the favourable weather and the contingent of knights escorting us, we had no incidents,” he kept his eyes focused on the other man as he spoke. “You’ve been up to Destrier before, haven’t you, Lord Eduard?”

“I have, yes. It’s a nice place,” Eduard said with a nod. “Though as I said, it’s quite a long trip, so I don’t visit often. And much colder than Solis, of course.” He chuckled. “That said, I’m glad to hear the trip went well.”

“Thank you,” Alain replied and gave off a soft chuckle. “It is far colder than Solis, and that is in the summertime. You probably would enjoy it even less in winter.”

He tilted his head a bit, continuing to lean on his palm. “Though I seem to recall you were most definitely there in the summer of 1278. I remember your face from my wedding.”

“Hm? Ah, yes. It was a lovely ceremony,” Eduard remarked. “I hope your wife is doing well?”

“She is, thank you. She is back in Destrier, along with my daughter,” Alain smirked and leaned forward slightly. “Was it really so unremarkable that you do not have much else to say about it? I am sorry that we failed to make a good impression on you, Lord Jade.”

“Oh, no need to apologize; you made a fine impression. My apologies if I insinuated otherwise.” Eduard chuckled slightly. “Though I admit it was the first wedding I ever attended in Bern. I’m not sure what constitutes a good Bernian wedding, but I thought it was rather pleasant.”

“It depends. Most weddings of Bernian nobles are as you would expect but the peasants have their own traditions. One of the most important things for both parties, however, is to keep their guests happy and fed. So it is comforting to know we achieved that goal. It would have been a great shame if we failed, especially with your party in attendance,” the Grand Duke replied, his smile still calm and relaxed as ever. “Though, correct me if I’m wrong, but you were not Lord of House Jade in the official capacity at the time but only acting as such, were you, Lord Eduard?”

Eduard nodded. “That’s right. My father was very ill at the time, Woo rest his soul.”

“I am very sorry to hear that,” Alain’s tone and expression remained neutral as he said this, letting the Jade Lord read whatever he wanted into it. However, soon a small smile crept across his face, “But your time as acting Lord must have been valuable for the experience alone. Most nobles are thrust into the position very suddenly.”

“Haha, quite true. I was very grateful for the experience,” Eduard agreed. “Not that our heirs aren’t trained early—that’s why Everett is off in Cossar right now, after all—but it’s still a big change, going from heir to Lord of the House.”

At that point, the door cracked open again, the servant from earlier on the other side. “Your pinot noir, my lord.”

“Ah! Thank you.” Eduard smiled, beckoning the servant into the room. The servant placed the two glasses and bottle of wine on a small table in the middle of the room, before bowing respectfully and leaving again.

Alain had paused and watched the servant enter hawkishly, watching as the wine was brought over. When it had been put down, however, he turned calmly back to Eduard, the smile still on his face.

“You cannot prepare yourself or your heir for everything, however, Lord Eduard. Sometimes things arise which are completely unexpected,” he lowered his head, though he did not take his eyes off those of the Jade Lord. His smile turned into a smirk. “I would know.”

The Grand Duke turned and picked up the bottle of wine by its neck, letting the dark ruby liquid pour into the two goblets provided for them. He picked them both up and held one out to Eduard, waiting for the other nobleman to take it.

“Thank you.” Eduard accepted the glass with a smile, taking a sip of the wine before continuing. “And yes, that is very true. Speaking of which…” At this point, he sat up straight, looking back at Alain analytically. “You had business to discuss with me, yes?”

Alain laughed softly. “You are correct, Lord Jade, I did not come all the way here for nothing. I’m here on behalf of one of my minor nobles,” he continued looking Eduard squarely in the eye. “It seems a few mages got cocky with their magic decided to cause quite a bit of trouble on his lands, using the old rivalry to justify themselves. “

Eduard frowned at this. “I’m sorry to hear that. Rest assured, they were not acting under my command.”

The Grand Duke shook his head, smiling a little, seeming satisfied with what the Jade Lord had said. “I did not mean to imply that. We already worked it out from questioning them,” Alain’s smirk grew a little more pronounced. “I forgot to mention, we did capture them. Because they were mages, it was deemed best that my own knights took care of them. It took a short while to...equip them to be able to deal with magic of course but it was a success. For your pleasure, I even brought them here for you to judge as you see fit.”

“Thank you. Those mages have no place antagonizing minor nobles, regardless of rivalries,” Eduard remarked. “If you intend to leave them in House Jade’s custody, I’ll have them questioned and dealt with accordingly.”

“Good. I want to make sure that they are brought to justice. Mage or not, I don’t like anybody terrorising my lands or my people. I’m sure you’ll understand,” Alain took a small sip of his wine and swirled the chalice around in his hand, watching the path of the liquid. “Though I would be curious to hear what they have to say to you.”

Eduard blinked. “Do you mean you wish to sit in on the questioning?”

“If that is not too much trouble, of course,” Alain turned his eyes back to the Jade Lord. “I like knowing these things.”

“Hm. I’m not sure I can allow that,” Eduard replied. “I’m can’t be certain that they or the interrogators won’t bring up any sensitive information. We are still rivals, after all.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “I’m sure you understand.”

Alain’s expression acquired a sly edge. “Oh yes, Lord Jade.”

“That said, I can certainly let you know if they have anything to say that is pertinent to you,” Eduard added. “It was your people they attacked, after all.”

“How very kind of you. It will be appreciated. Although...” the Grand Duke leaned forward. “I was under the impression these mages worked alone, and you asserted that too. How sensitive can what they say really be?”

He smiled and his eyes acquired an amused glint. “You’re not planning anything against my House by any chance, are you, Lord Jade?” despite the seriousness of the question, his tone remained light and joking.

“Oh, no, of course not. I didn’t meant to imply that.” Eduard shook his head. “You are likely right, and there is nothing they could say, but it never hurts to be careful.” He gave a polite smile that could be interpreted as a smirk. “Just in case.”

“Of course,” Alain had kept his eyes on the Jade Lord as he had posed the question, watching him hawkishly for any signs that he was lying. But he could not detect any signs of it. The Jade Lord seemed sincere enough, if rather sly, but that slyness was something he could understand. Alain would not want a rival sitting in on any interrogations, even if they would most likely be nothing.

“Be as cautious and sly as you wish. There’s never too much of that,” he took a drink of wine, “There is, however, another matter I want to settle with you in regards to these men.”

“And what is that?”

“Compensation,” the word rolled smoothly off Alain’s tongue. “These men caused quite a bit of damage. I want to make sure my minor lords are suitably remunerated so that they might help with the rebuilding process.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Eduard replied. “I would be happy to offer assistance however I can. Within reason, of course.” Gazing down thoughtfully at his wine glass, he added, “That said, how much compensation are we talking here?”

“Not much,” Alain replied with a calm smile, “I have brought detailed accounts with me of the exact costs I ask for but I shall give you the gist:”

He paused, taking a sip of wine before returning his piercing gaze to the Jade Lord and continuing to talk, “Covering the cost of property that they destroyed for starters. Several inns in several towns as well as miscellaneous peasant dwellings, a few fields of crops and livestock, then public works such as roads. Then compensation for my minor lord for the trouble they caused, and finally, compensation for myself. Equipping knights for countering magic is not cheap, you understand,” the Grand Duke smirked and lifted up a hand to the silver stone resting against his chest. “I think that’s a fair price to ask, don’t you?”

Eduard had taken another sip of his wine as Alain finished talking, allowing him to pause in thought. “That all sounds a bit expensive. I may have to check our finances.”

The Grand Duke’s smirk grew a fraction wider. “I would not ask anything that you could not handle. Surely the great House Jade is not in such dire financial straits that it cannot handle my very simple request?”

“Of course not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have to watch how our money is spent,” Eduard replied with a smirk of his own. “But I will certainly see what I can do.”

“Thank you, that is most kind of you,” Alain swirled his chalice in his hand, “I can assure you that your money will not be wasted, if that is what worries you. House Stallion is not in the habit of frivolous spending.”

“That’s good to hear. I certainly wouldn’t want you spending all my money on alcohol or something.” Eduard chuckled at this, taking another sip of his wine.

“Come on, Lord Jade, you insult me with such ridiculous insinuations. I assure you, not all Bernians are alcoholics,” Alain laughed, holding up his own wine with one hand.

Eduard shook his head in amusement. “Now then, is there anything else you needed?”

Alain smiled a little and leaned his head against his hand lightly, continuing to regard him. “I think that should be everything. We can discuss the details later, I’m sure. But…” he grinned, “It has been interesting getting to know the head of my rival House.”

“Agreed. It’s been a pleasant meeting.” Eduard smiled back at him. “I hope our future associations will be this nice.”

“I hope so too,” Alain gave off a soft laugh. “You are a nice enough man, Lord Eduard. I would hate to have to reignite old rivalries between our Houses with you.”

He smiled a little. “Thank you for being so cooperative too, save for that minor issue regarding interrogations. I had expected a little more resistance.”

“Well, I hardly need to be rude when you give me no reason to be.” Eduard placed his now empty glass of wine on the table, standing up. “If that’s all, then, I suppose I should get to work. Where are these prisoners of yours?”

Alain drained the last of his glass, savouring the wine on his tongue and placed it beside the Jade Lord’s before standing up, stretching himself out to his full height. “I asked my retinue knights to watch over them. They should still be in the courtyard, awaiting my instructions.”

“Good, good. I’d like to have them escorted to the dungeons,” Eduard said. “I assume you can lead the way?”

“Of course, I remember the way I came in well,” he turned on his heel and took a few steps towards the door, waiting for Eduard to follow. Eduard did so promptly, closing the door behind them once they were out of the room. They started down the hall, back toward the courtyard.

They had walked a short distance before Alain turned to Eduard, a smile playing on his face and his eyes glinting with curiosity. “You mentioned your heir is in Cossar, was it, Lord Eduard? Such a shame. It would have been interesting to meet him.”

“Him and his wife, yes.” Eduard nodded. “Political business with one of our minor Houses. You know how it is.” With an amused smile, he added, “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of other opportunities to meet him, though.”

“Of course, yes, always have to keep the minor Houses happy. It’s why I’m here, after all,” the Grand Duke gave off a small smirk. “But I look forward to meeting him.”

Deep in his heart, he felt the ever-familiar sensation of something whispering to him that the meeting between him and the Jade heir will be interesting indeed, though perhaps only for him. Alain kept that in mind but gave off no sign of his thoughts. He was not going to betray his odd precognition to Eduard.

“Unusual that his wife would go with him though,” he remarked, tilting his head slightly.

“Diplomacy reasons, mainly,” Eduard replied with a shrug. “Also…” He paused for a moment, as if pondering whether or not to offer this next bit of information. Deciding there was no use in hiding it, he shook his head. “…They have no children, so she has no obligation to stay here.”

“Ah, I see,” Alain gave a tiny nod. “A shame then. But I’m sure it will be a blessing when they finally do have one,” he glanced sideways. “You must be anxious for a grandson, Lord Eduard.”

“I can’t deny it would be nice,” Eduard admitted with a chuckle. “But it will come when it comes. Until then, I’ll just have to be patient, I suppose.” Glancing back at Alain, he added, “You said you had a daughter back home, yes?”

“I do. Her name is Aveline and she only recently turned ten,” the Grand Duke nodded and allowed a hint of a smile to appear on his face, though unlike his previous expressions, this one was warm and genuine. “She’s a sweet girl though, very bright and beautiful. My wife certainly adores her. As do I, I will happily admit.”

“That’s nice. Children definitely do bring a special blessing into our lives.” Eduard smiled fondly. “I’ll always cherish my own children—even if my eldest is almost as old as you now, haha. Once you’re a parent, you never stop being a parent, I suppose.”

“Lord Eduard?” came a voice, distracting the Jade Lord from his thoughts. Glancing toward the sound of the voice, the two of them spotted a light-haired man with long, pointed ears, just rounding the corner from another hallway. “I wanted to tell you— oh.” He blinked, noticing Alain standing next to Eduard. “My apologies, I didn’t realize you had company.”

“It’s alright, Peter,” Eduard replied. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Nothing that can’t wait.” Peter bowed respectfully. “I’m sure you’re off to handle some important business. I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Please, don’t be. There is nothing so important that we cannot bear an interruption,” Alain picked up the conversation, regarding Peter with curiosity. It was rare that he was confronted with something he knew next to nothing about and this newcomer was definitely one such being. He had heard of them in stories and accounts, as well as rumours that one had worked for the Jades for a long time, but much like the true knowledge of the identity of Aines in Medieville, he had no idea if they were true. Except now, looking at the stranger’s long ears, it seemed they were.

“I do not mean to be rude...Peter, was it?” the Grand Duke tilted his head slightly. “But are you by any chance an elf?”

“I am, yes,” Peter replied, standing up straight and looking at Alain with glistening amber eyes. “I was born in the elf city of Nid’aigle.”

“Interesting,” Alain replied, meeting the elf’s gaze directly and taking note of his unusual eye colour in particular. He smirked. “And yet here you are working for the Jades. Wonder what they did to press you into their service.”

Peter just gave a lighthearted chuckle at this. “I’ve always enjoyed my work here. I find it to be very fulfilling.”

The Grand Duke smirked a little. “And yet the mere fact that you did not answer my question is odd,” he gave off a soft laugh. “I can only hope that the Jades are not making you work here under duress.”

“Of course not. The Jades have been nothing but kind to me,” Peter insisted, smiling at Eduard. “I was honored to accept the position, and have never once regretted it.”

“We do treat our employees very well, Peter included,” Eduard added. “And he’s very good at his job. I’ve always appreciated his hard work and dedication.”

Peter’s smile broadened slightly. “Thank you, my lord.”

“I hardly meant to imply you did not, Lord Eduard, but you have to admit, an elf is an unusual employee to have indeed, even in Corvus,” Alain gave off a soft chuckle and glanced again at Peter, analysing him. “You must be quite special to House Jade. I bet they trust you with a great variety of things.”

“I do know quite a bit about the Jades that most do not, yes,” Peter admitted. With an amused smile, he added, “But don’t expect me to share any stories. Especially not in front of Lord Eduard.”

“Oh dear. Am I in danger of having my embarrassing childhood moments shared with the Grand Duke of House Stallion?” Eduard teased.

“Come now, that would be improper of me,” Peter teased right back.

Alain raised an eyebrow, intrigued at the word ‘childhood’. The elf did not look older than Eduard. It took him a moment to ponder this before it dawned on him. So it was true...elves were long-lived, though how long, he was not yet sure.

Nevertheless, he gave off a grin. “Oh I’m sure we could arrange something. After all, good information always has its own price. I might pay a fair sum to hear such stories, especially if they prove amusing.”

“Why, are you trying to buy information off of me?” Peter questioned, amused. “I’m fairly certain that’s bribery.”

The Grand Duke laughed softly. “But it is not if you give me those stories willingly, is it?” he tilted his head. “Or have you been in the Jades’ service far too long and developed too much loyalty towards them, Peter, to even do that?”

“You don’t work as an advisor for House Jade for as long as I have by betraying their trust,” Peter said. Smiling serenely, he repeated, “It would be terribly improper of me to share private information with our rivals.”

“So you say, but I’m still keeping an eye on you,” Eduard remarked.

“I thought you said you trusted me?” Peter gave an exaggerated frown. “Now I’m hurt.”

Eduard laughed, shaking his head. “Anyway, we do still have business to attend to,” he said, starting down the hallway again. “But you can walk with us if you like, Peter.”

“May I ask what exactly you’re doing?” Peter wondered, following after them. “I’m certain the Grand Duke of House Stallion has better things to do than to visit his rivals for fun.”

Alain watched the exchange with some amusement, observing the two. Clearly there was a lot of trust indeed between the Jade and the elf, if he was allowed to joke with the Lord in such a way. Most certainly, the Jades had an interesting servant in their midst.

He nodded to Peter as he began walking with them, picking up the pace again. “There was a...problem in my lands regarding some rogue mages. I am here to sort it out. But you’ll be glad to know that it has been smooth so far” a smile spread across his face. “I’m sure you’ve seen far worse examples of the rivalry at work.”

“Well, as long as you’re not here to kill anyone, it’s a marked improvement,” Peter replied with a wry smile. His smile softened and he added, “I’m glad to hear it went well, though.”

A smirk blossomed on Alain’s face. “Are you old enough to remember that far back? If so, I am impressed. I heard elves lived a long time but it’s good to know for certain.”

Peter chuckled. “If it indulges your curiosity, I’m still young by elf standards.”

“Then I cannot help but wonder what old is by those very same standards,” Alain tilted his head, his eyes twinkling slightly. “I’m willing to wager that the oldest of the elves can remember a time even before the foundation of my House.”

“What was that, four hundred years ago? That wouldn’t be an unreasonable assumption,” Peter told him. “That was well before my time, of course, but there are certainly elves who live that long."

The Grand Duke nodded, filing away that bit of information. “Still, you must have seen quite a few things in your time, Peter,” he blinked, continuing to look the elf in the eye. “If you remember Lord Eduard here as a child, and seem to remember my great-grandfather’s...dealings, shall we say, you must have known quite a few Jade Lords in a similar fashion.”

“Perhaps so, though I wasn’t working for House Jade my whole life,” Peter replied vaguely. Then, turning to Eduard, he asked, “Where exactly are we going, anyway?”

“The courtyard, where the Grand Duke’s captives are being looked after,” Eduard replied.

“Ah, I see. Securely, I presume?” Peter asked, turning to Alain again.

“Of course they are,” Alain nodded before smirking. “Do you doubt the competence of my knights? If so, let me assure you that it is at your own risk.”

“Oh, I would never dream of it,” Peter assured him. “And I certainly have no intention of tangling with House Stallion knights—and nor would Lord Eduard, I’d hope.”

Eduard smiled wryly. “That’s not high on my list of priorities, no.”

By the smirk that continued to play on his face, the Grand Duke seemed satisfied with that. As they finally made it to the courtyard, he scanned the area briefly and his eyes alighted on the group of knights surrounding the prisoner transports. Some of them had dismounted while others remained seated on their horses. Alain, however, kept looking over them until he spotted the familiar face and red chevrons of their commander. Gesturing at Peter and Eduard to follow, he walked right toward him.

The knight dismounted and saluted as soon as he saw Alain approaching. “Your Grace. The prisoners are still secure, as per your orders,” he glanced back at the two Jades. “Have matters been settled then?”

“Yes, Commander,” Alain nodded. “You are to hand the prisoners over to the Jades for interrogation. Then you and your men may take your leave until we depart,” he smiled a little. “But make sure you keep your protection when you wander around the city. You never know what could happen.”

“Yes, your Grace,” the man saluted again. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome. For now, please escort the prisoners to the dungeons,” here, the Grand Duke glanced back at Lord Eduard. “Assuming you have no problem with that, of course?”

“Fine with me. Although…” Eduard gestured to the Jade guards standing by the door, getting their attention. “Perhaps one of you could show them the way?”

The guards nodded. “Of course, my lord.”

“Good. Then take the prisoners out of their transport and lead them away,” Alain told the commander. Giving one final salute, the knight turned around and began shouting orders to his men. A satisfied smile spread on the Grand Duke’s face as he turned to the Jade Lord.

“I’m glad that’s been settled then,” Alain and held out his hand to Eduard. “It has certainly a pleasure doing business with you, Lord Eduard.”

Eduard smiled, taking his hand and shaking it. “And you as well, Your Grace.”

[PFA]

I haven't posted a fic in a while, how about a sad one? 8D (Brief Hope dialogue written with Lizzie's approval)

Distance

SPOILER: Click to show

Jeniver was worried.

Getting to go back to Corvus and seeing her family again was nice—and getting to introduce Dilan and little Vivienne to the Jades was more than worth it. But she couldn't help but notice how... solemn, her Uncle Everett was. The whole time she was there, he seemed unusually meditative, like he was paying special attention to the time spent with his family members. Maybe it was just because Uncle Theodore and apparently Uncle Cedric had died, but... she also couldn't ignore the obvious signs of age. His hair had gone completely gray, and he would move slowly and deliberately, a lot like Dilan often would. It was almost as if...

It bothered Jeniver enough that she'd ended up checking up on him several times on the trip back to Websteros. It wasn't hard for her to do—she was a seer, after all, and all it took was a quick look every now and then to see how he was doing. The visions didn't offer much comfort, revealing that he was resting a lot more than he used to, and that it seemed to take him extra effort to handle relatively easy tasks. But, she told herself, it only meant that he was aging, nothing more.

Right?

She'd almost completely brushed it off by the time she got home, only thinking about it again when Lord Everett was brought up in a conversation with Lord Ahab. So after she'd put Vivienne to bed and settled back into her room, she decided to check up on him again, just to be sure.

But this time, she got nothing.

Her blood ran cold from worry. It couldn't be the distance; she'd been able to scry on Corvus all the way from Websteros before with little trouble. Fearing the worst, she tried for the next person she thought of: her cousin Joffery. Sure enough, her powers came through this time—there was Joffery, looking very forlorn as he spoke with Hope.

"I'm sure you'll do great, Joffery," Hope said. "You've worked so hard for this, and I know you can do it."

"...Thank you," Joffery replied weakly. "I-I just... I'm really going to miss him."

Hope frowned, moving to give her husband a consoling hug. "I know, dear. Believe me, I know..."

Jeniver cut off the vision, dropping her wand on the bed beside her so she could bury her face in her hands, soaking them with her tears. It was just as she'd feared—that trip to visit her family in Solis was the last chance she had to see her uncle alive.

"...Jeniver?" came Dilan's voice, apparently having come in behind her at some point. "Jeniver, what's wrong?"

"H-he... he's gone," she whimpered in-between sobs. "Uncle Everett is..."

She couldn't even finish the sentence, breaking out into incomprehensible sobs. Thankfully, she didn't need to say anything else, as Dilan promptly came up beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders consolingly.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly. "I know it's hard, losing someone you care about."

"We weren't... we weren't really that close, I guess," Jeniver admitted. "He was always busy, a-and I was..." She trailed off, pausing to wipe away some of her tears with her sleeve. "...It's just that... he's gone now, and I c-couldn't be there. A-and Joffery's really upset, and I can't be there for him, a-and..."

"I know, I know... it's really hard, I'm sorry." Dilan let her cry into this shoulder, stroking her hair gently. He was silent for a while, not sure what to say, before he cautiously added, "At least he's with the 'Woo now, right?"

"...Yeah, I guess," Jeniver said. After a moment, she smiled slightly. "H-he's probably happy right now. Talking to Aunt Satine, probably."

"Yeah. And... he's not in pain anymore." Dilan paused, a look of longing in his eyes for a moment. But it faded quickly—this wasn't the time to dwell on that. "I know it's going to be hard on you and your family for a while; Lord Everett was a great man. And maybe you can't be there in person, but... you could send them a letter, maybe? It might help you feel better."

"...That would probably help, yeah," Jeniver agreed. With a small, sad laugh, she added, "I wonder... I bet we'll get the official news about the time my letter gets to Corvus. That's the thing about being a seer, I guess..."

"I'm sure your family will understand," Dilan replied. "You don't have to write the letter right away. Right now you probably just need some time to cry."

"...Yeah." Jeniver smiled, nestling into Dilan's arms. "Hugs help, though."

Dilan smiled back. "And I'm happy to provide them."

With that, the two of them lapsed into silence, quietly enjoying each other's company. Though she couldn't always be with her old family anymore, Jeniver thought, at least she could be with her new one. And she was going to cherish it for as long as she could.