Navaar Family/Lucius/Navaar and Storme Family/Nobody Alive Likes Mutton

Nobody Alive Likes Mutton

Golden Farrow

The door of the Vestarchs chamber in the Palace flies open, Svari’s meeting with Solomon and Edelyn has just finished and Svari’s normally stoic face is frowning as she opens the heavy door without a knock and steps inside. “Well that went terribly” she opens up with, while helping herself to the bottles of liquor in the room “It was like, watching a wall have a staring contest with a rock. Neither are moving” A first little cup of liquor is tossed back and another is poured immediately after, despite her mood she looks better than she has in awhile, well rested and dressed in cheerier, regular clothes rather than the dark uniforms she usually sports. With a drink down and her worries spilled she finally sets the glass aside and approaches him for a tight embrace. She had never been in the Vestarchs chambers before Lucius won, and the sight of all the books and artifacts of the office gives her pause “At least you were successful in something. I can’t seem to do anything but fail. I need a break- from both of them. How much longer do you need to stay in the City?” Her question is full of hopeful implications; He will know where she wants to go. Nothing in the room was quite his. It had been left behind. A few personal objects more suited to work than fondness were scattered about, but it had taken Svari some time to get him to come around to decorating their home. Lucius sighed as he pulled back from her embrace long enough to finish reading another letter. So much paper, and so many books. He had thought he was ready for it, but life had surprised him once again, and he took up the role in the tail end of a storm.

He flashed a smile to Svari. "I don't know that I would call that election a victory as much as it felt like my opponents kind of defeated themselves…" He didn't linger long on the thought and set down his letter and looked her over once more in earnest with his distraction set aside. He always admired her when she was out of uniform, and today was no different as he enjoyed the contrast from the usual stern soldier and drew her back into the embrace. "I can read papers all day anywhere," he admitted. "How long do you need to pack?"

“I pretty well only own a sword and boots” painful truth, the other items hung at her throat and in her hair, a smile is playing on her lips and she turns away from him to look out the old warped glass of the Vestarch’s chamber to the grounds below. “I just need my cloak and we could go right now if you wanted.”

His willingness to just steal away with her as always cheers her right away, and she finds herself just holding onto him instead of rushing them out like she originally intended. Thoughts of Edelyn are pushed aside for him instead “Do you sell yourself so short to try and make me feel better?” She is watching him closely now, wondering if he is hiding his feelings from her. “You can be proud if you want to, I am proud. Your success does not hurt me.”

Lucius shook his head. "I did well. I feel I still have much to do to earn and keep that trust though,” he said plainly. It was the truth as far as he was concerned.

Holding her tighter, he could only imagine what a few days away from all of the chaos could do for them. It was enough to spark a kiss that made him glad they were the only ones in the room. “If we leave now, I can pick up a couple of things in Demyansk along the way,” he admitted to her.

He admits he does well, which is more than she expected and gives her a kiss that makes her feel confident that he was not just going along with her to make her happy. Some time away would be good for them both, even with his new responsibilities; with this in her mind she begins leading him out of the Vestarchs chambers saying “Let’s go then” pausing as a second thought for anything he may need to get and waiting in the cavernous hallway for him to join her when ready.

“It will be nice to see Demyansk, I wonder if Ember has gotten any better with that sword” she remembers the skinny teenager with her oversized blade fondly, and thinks of her father too. The mechanism he built her last time they visited had effectively changed her life “I have to thank her father again, too. I have had no pain since he made this” Guards pass by them swiftly and she clams up with “You know.”

Farrowfield

Just the two of them could cover much more ground than with an army, and with the status of Vestarch and former Stratarch, no one stopped them from leaving the gates to Farrowfield. The one guard that did protest was quietly reminded of their ranks in the Order of the Gylden Sword.

Open skies and open roads before them, Lucius took a deep breath of fresh air and held it in his lungs for a long moment before exhaling with a satisfying sigh. Behind them the line of people clamoring to get into the city was disappearing into the horizon. He glanced over at the love of his life, unable to hide the smile. "We should have done this a long time ago," he suggested. "There's something freeing, knowing that it's just us."

Like Lucius, Svari had her eyes wide open to take in the scene before them. It had been a long time since they travelled without the intention to fight. No heavy armor weighing her down, crisp Autumn air whipping leaves around them as they ride….A glance to the side catches Lucius watching her and winks at his smile, joining in as she expresses that he is as happy as she is.

“I know..It has been so long since we didn’t have to check orders all day, and marching in a war train horse arses ahead for miles and behind for miles, you can actually smell the air” slowly she reveals just how trapped she had felt going so relentlessly. “I can’t help but feel guilty though” as she admit it, she tugs her big black warhorse in rank with him, explaining “Ede could use this as much as us, but after that meeting I just couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t want me to follow…You never ask me what happened in there” awkward as ever she puts it together herself and sighs “I guess there's no explanation needed when it comes to those two”

Lucius shrugged as he eased his horse closer to hers. He could almost reach out and put his arm around her. "I'm pretty sure I've had the letter version of that meeting to work with," he said with a light laugh. "As long as she knows we're both there for her, I think she'll be okay though, and it sounds like I have to visit with her as well." He shook his head and looked out into the distance, not wanting to dwell on Edelyn and their back and forth letters. They made him feel guilty as her friend. He thought he could see some of the Demyansk farmlands, but it would still be a couple of hours before they arrived. He stayed silent about his need to visit her for a long moment, looking for the words to say. Svari knew his family was a sore subject at times. "I guess my uncle is in Tol Goldora. He left some stuff for me with Ede and wandered off. He was always a strange one," he commented at last.

He submits a comment about his uncle so flippantly that it sticks out to Svari even more starkly, and she looks at the man beside her with disbelief. “You guess? What did he leave you? What Uncle” She tries to remember the details about his stories from Beluaterra but all she can come up with is a family that let him be tortured for years. “Is he going to try and do anything to you?”

The far away farms of demyask loom in front of them, everyone would know that Lucius rules that region- if an uncle is up to no good that is where he would look. A few seconds tick by and she adds on urgently “What did he say to Ede?”

Lucy shrugged again. "Ede didn't elaborate. Just that it was something about an inheritance," he admitted. "I got a letter from Soren, finally," he added. "Something similar happened to him with grandpa Felix. He said it should be uncle Velden that was coming to me…"

He rarely elaborated on the family. The Calanars were mostly dead at this point, and the few remaining were… different. Eccentric? "Uncle Locke gave me my swords. Velden got me on the ship out of Beluaterra. Grandpa Felix… Those three…" He clearly wanted to say they were good, but it was a phrase he found himself unable to speak. "I can't say I trust them, but I don't think they would harm me. It's more like being in the middle of a family fight, and not knowing what the stakes are." He did manage a laugh despite what he said. "Aunt Lan wouldn't want the trouble anyway. Velden was always enough, she would say."

“He’s alright with me” Svari has already made her judgment on the uncle, if it was that man who had put Lucius on a ship then she could look past almost anything else. “I’ll be there with you...I can put on my Storme face, get pretty scary, he wouldn’t dare start trouble.”

There is a supportive smile on her face but inside there is mounting nervousness as they approach, the unknown looming before them. Still, there was the knowledge that her own family is unbearable to spur her forward. Lucius would be facing something far more harrowing when meeting her great grandmother...Svari could be almost sure of that. “Maybe he brought you a fat sack of gold.” Wishful thinking.

Demyansk

As the pair approached the estate everything seemed quiet? Normal? The stone faced guards were one matter, but some shadow hung over the estate that wasn’t obvious at first. Looking around for the red blur that would be Ember, his hand fell to his sword, but nothing came rushing toward them.

The first Ironsward to greet them was not Emily, but her mother Emma, the head maid. Her red hair had faded and the few greys were well hidden. She was obviously concerned as she approached. "Sir, it's Greg."

The mysterious Greg, a servant that had been working for him for a year at least, but was never around for him to meet. "What happened?"

Emma hesitated, so he slid down from his horse and got on the same level as her. "What happened?" he asked more forcefully.

"An older gentleman claiming to know you-" she started and cut herself off.

"Velden?" he asked, pointedly.

He got a nod in response, along with a gasp and some tears. She handed Lucius a package from within her apron. "He showed up. Left this for you…"

"Easy…" Lucius said as he put an arm around her shoulders.

Emma sobbed for another minute before managing to compose herself. "It seemed like he and Greg knew each other. Greg got nervous. I don’t know what happened next, but the fight ended quickly, and -hic- he killed Greg!"

Lucius looked down at the package in his hands. "And the letter?"

"He wrote it before he left. Said he had to see a man about a goat, and then left like nothing happened. No one knows who Greg's family is!"

Someone had been killed within Lucius’ estate and no one had sent a word about it, suspicion grips Svari even toward the tearful older woman. Could they be trying to lure Lucius and herself inside for some reason? Did it happen so recently that a letter had not even been sent? Could they make chase now and track him down? Years of parsing lies and excuses from soldiers and militia told her to be cautious. The package in Lucius’ hand is the next subject of scrutiny and she puts her hand atop his, implying that he should not open it.

“How long ago did this happen?” She asks in her most commanding tone. “Which direction did this man Velden flee in?”

"He said something about the mountains, m-my Lady," Emma managed.

Lucius sighed as he turned his hand over to hold Svari’s and gave it an affectionate squeeze before deciding to open the package. Sitting on the steps to his estate, he began laying the contents out. Inside, everything looked to have been recently shifted around. There was a rolled up piece of parchment, several documents of lineage, another package that he set aside, and metal crest that was unlike any he had seen before. It was painted, blue and green with a white fox. The name Calanar ran over the top, and the bottom simply read, 'Seize life.'

Lucius shook his head and handed the crest to Svari and unrolled the parchment. A map of western Dwilight from many years before. A different flag was flown where Tol Goldora now stood. He would have to look at the other papers later.

The smaller package within was hastily wrapped with one of his own towels, he realized as he picked it up and truly looked at it. The situation was serious, but even that made him laugh as he opened it. Letters. His letters. Copies stored here for safe keeping of things he'd written about. A note or two from Svari, nothing long, but something sentimental he kept around when they were apart for a long time. Reports, a quick glance suggested that the writer was reporting on Lucius and his actions to someone. The signature simply said Grim, but they were always to someone called Hound. He quickly flipped through the letters, handing them to Svari as he worked his way to the bottom of the pile. It was only when he reached it that his calm shattered and he paled.

"Velden did nothing wrong," he said quietly, much to Emma's shock. Sitting at the bottom was a torn piece of cloth, a black field with a blue tower adorned it.

Emma’s response does not satisfy Svari and she follows behind Lucius looking like a bristled cat ready to jump at a moments notice. Despite her not wanting him to, Lucius opens up the package and begins handing her items. Familiar with cursed items from Beluaterra she takes the crest in her sleeves, refusing to touch it out of pure suspicion and watches on, letting Lucius pile things into her arms.

“I don’t understand Lucius” It was as close to a whine as Svari could manage, looking over all the artifacts including letters from her own hand. She felt a creeping dread, the unknown, and concern for her lover. “He killed someone, he had all of these things he must have been -Spying” Lucius was a Marshal afterall, and now a Vestarch, the strange map..Were they going to use him to restore some ancient Kingdom? After spending time with so many sinister people she felt sick at the possibilities.

Lucius finally got around to the letter. Maybe that would hold the answers he needed.

Lucy,

I still haven't had a chance to catch up with you yet, but I had some things I couldn't leave in the vault. Most of this is to help you understand your heritage. The crest is the third key you'll need to get into the vault in Barrow Peaks. Check the map. I gave your friend the other two. I wouldn't dare give her all three. Bring her along and tell her I'll stop flipping skirts if she smiles a little more. She's too serious.

Your swords have names by the way. Dawn and Twilight. We never got a chance to tell you, though we can talk more later.

I'm sure I'll catch up to you eventually.

Velden Calanar

Underneath the letter additional writing was done hastily.

Your servant worked for the Blue Tower. I grabbed some evidence for you and took care of him. Locke and I are only afforded so much freedom around them, and I'm not a spring chicken anymore. I'm off to see what generation of Chompy is mascotting at the hot springs.

Lucy handed the letter to Svari to let her read, wanting her opinion before he said anything.

The letter is read quickly, and met with a frown as she reads out the line “What generation of -chompy- is mascotting hot springs.”

A sigh, Svari holds the letter along with the other items she has been given to hold in one hand while thinking about those odd words for herself. “He mentioned Ede” her heart sinks, realizing that he wants the two of them to go to Barrow Peaks- A place she could not follow. “What are we going to do?” she asks cautiously, still not sure if she can trust the situation. The idea of heading back to Golden Farrow was a painful one, the idea of dragging Edelyn to the witches doorstep; Unbearable.

“Are you...Sure you trust all of this? He did kill someone. Traumatized ehm, Emma. I’ve not seen” she drops her voice to a whisper “the kid...Since we got here either. Is that not odd? I expected her.” Lucius glanced through the other papers quickly until his eyes fell on what his suspicions told him must exist. "Velden Calanar, Baron of Barrow Peaks." He shook his head. "Not today, Ri. I'll go when I'm ready, not on anyone's schedule."

He took the belongings back from her and bundled everything up. "This is going in my study, and I'm going to get a change of clothes, and then we are off to Mech Alb," he decided.

He looked at Emma, and managed to soften his expression before he made eye contact. "For better or worse, Greg was not here for my good will, but it seems my uncle was. Have someone clean this up and I'll file the paperwork," he told her with a smile. Then he asked the question he was wary of. "Where's Emily?"

Emma blinked. "Out with her friends. She had the day off from the forge. She usually rushes home when she sees your banners, but it looks like you came alone with the former Stratarch this time," she said, powering through to a wry grin.

Svari had saved herself the sight of that grin, turning away from the common woman to help Lucius gather his things. From the pile she takes the heavy old sigil; no longer afraid of it and holds it up as they exit the building away from Emma. From their last visit Svari knows the way to his chamber and holds the emblem up in the light, inspecting it with the same stoic constance she often held. “Calanar, seize life” she reads off of it wistfully “Dawn, and Twilight...It’s all rather poetic. What could it have to do with your heritage? What are the Navaar words?” She palms the crest and looks at Lucius horrified that it had only then dawned on her to ask.

Lucius frowned. “Humanity first,” he said with a blatant tone of disagreement. “Nothing less from a family that gave in to a cult.” He looked at the crest in Svari’s hand. “My grandfather only had one daughter. She married into the Navaar family. Had the Calanars not been in decline, maybe I would’ve had a different upbringing…” Instead of dwelling on the current situation, he started his paperwork so they could leave. He chalked it up to self defense, but that didn’t change that the town mayor would have to deal with it.

The moment he set the pen down, Lucius stood and drew Svari into a tight hug, feeling her pulse in time with the beating hammer from out back. Erik was already back at work. “You can probably go thank him while I pack, if you still want to,” he suggested, not releasing her. He waited a while, letting her presence settle the buffeting worries he hadn’t realized he had ever had before.

It was just so like him to suggest that she leave at a moment like that, when she could tell he was disturbed by something- knowing it was her questions' fault once again. Still clinging onto his embrace she tries to rouse him from the dark thoughts of his past with something cheery for his future. “My family words are, ‘Like my father before me’. I used to hate it.”

A thoughtful pause, or perhaps she was simply admiring him ”But our children will have you as their father...In that case both our family words are...far improved. You are a better man than my father and you also have a frustratingly good streak in you…’Humanity first’ are not such bad words in your hands.”

Lucius didn’t know what to say to that, and continued to hold her. He kept moving along, but whenever Svari dangled a more distant future ahead of him he would falter, feeling undeserving of it. He took a long, slow breath and let her words wash over him again. Children. Our children? The idea seemed alien to him, yet pleasant. He tried to imagine it, but the scars of days past started to poke their heads out, and he yanked himself back to the present where only a hard kiss brought him comfort.

“Don’t ever let me push you away, Ri,” he mumbled between their lips before kissing her again. He knew he would try, like he always did, but she was as stubborn as he was in this relationship, and that was what he needed every time he felt weak. And he was tired of always worrying, and wondering about his future. She was willing to give him one that he never dreamed he could have! The whole reason they were out on this excursion was for a change of pace, not so he could wallow in the never ending chaos life threw at him. There was a renewed confidence in his eyes as he separated from her at last, grinning again. “What would I do without you?”

More guilt, it shows on her face this time in the form of a pained grimace, covered over with “I need you as much as you need me. I am not going anywhere, but if we linger here like this much longer we won’t be leaving till morning”

A light pat on his cheek precedes a wink before she steps away from him, looking curiously out a window toward the sound of the ringing anvil. The darkness in Lucius’ expression has passed, and she takes his previous suggestion now that she knows he will be alright.

“I’ll go ahead. Meet me at the smithy when you’re done here.” Svari departs quickly before he can coax her back, putting on her usual inscrutable, sullen face as she makes her way purposefully to the building wafting stacks of smoke across the yard in the cold autumn air.

The fire can be heard roaring from outside, as well as the ringing of metal...She knows he is busy and glances over her shoulder as if she expected Lucius to be right there. He was not, so she knocked once and entered the shop alone, in her travelling gear, addressing the man simply with “Eric, we are not staying long…” Hoping mainly not to startle him in the middle of something important with her sudden arrival.

Eric made a gesture for Svari to come inside as he set down a hammer he was using to pound out dents in a shield. The large smith gave Svari a look up and down and nodded in approval. "No need for my permission to come or go. I see you've gotten new boots too," he added with a chuckle. "What can I do for yeh?"

She comes closer when beckoned, slightly off-put by him obviously sizing her up but the comment about the boot reveals what he had been judging so intently. Towering over the short man, she sees what he is working on but does not comment on it. “I just wanted to let you know that things are working out well.” There is a slight pause, Svari goes on and admits stiffly “I have suffered a lot of pain since I was a girl until now. So I visited to say if there is anything you need that I can help with, do ask.”

Eric chuckled and gave her a pat on the shoulder, a fatherly gesture, perhaps a little too familiar for someone of his status, but he did work for Lucius. "Just promise to visit so I can tune it up or repair it. Otherwise, hearing you say that is more than enough for someone like me."

From out in the yard a yelp could be heard. "Lucius! You're home! Ack! Wait! I'm unarmed! I surrenderrr!"

"Sounds like Lord Lucius was looking for you."

Her touching moment with the blacksmith is cut short by a yelp, ever vigilant Svari is already halfway to the door before Eric puts it together and she is left looking awkward as usual, embarrassed for panicking at nothing. He suggests Lucius has been looking for her and she nods in agreement then affords the man a short smile before pulling open his shop door to see what waited for her outside.

Outside, Lucy was swinging a short sword at Emily, purposely missing every swing. It seemed she could tell, but she scurried backwards on her hands and feet all the same. Her cries for help were a mix of shock and laughter as the young lord cornered her against a tree. She reached up and snapped off a branch trying to make a counter attack, but Lucius grabbed the other end and disarmed her before whacking her head with the leafy end.

“That’s what you get for letting your guard down.” He turned towards the smithy and dropped the branch. Seeing Svari looking out at them, he laughed. “Got everything I needed.”

From inside the smithy, Eric shook his head, smiling. “He’s changed for the better since I met him. Keep taking care of him, alright?” He went back over to his work bench and picked up the shield he had been working on before so he could start knocking out more dents.

The sight of Emily being beaten back so mercilessly wins a chuckle from svari and she whoops at Lucius to ‘quit it’ just before he drops the branch. Eric's words while unexpected are not lost to Svari though she only reacts to them with a short nod before leaving the step of the smithy to fall in rank with Lucius.

The thoroughly defeated younger girl remains on the ground and Svari waves to her in greeting “your Lord wants you to wander the estate armed hm, perhaps there is a militia job in your future” She casts a suspicious look at Lucius “We aren't staying long, I’m glad we got to see you before we go”.

Emily scrambled to her feet and saluted Svari, blushing furiously. “Yes, ma’am!”

“She really does idolize you, you know?” he said with a laugh. “Let’s get going before she tries to tag along.”

The thought of having Emily along didn’t particularly offend Svari but of course dragging the girl to Mech Alb probably wouldn’t please her exceptionally stern father and neurotic mother. “I wish I could figure out why” she finally breathes when they are out of earshot. Their horses are prepared and waiting for them, rested and ready to complete their journey, they leave as quietly as they arrived and the only sign of their departure, a single young girl waving good-bye atop a gatehouse.

Mech Alb Pt 1

Snow had begun to fall soon after they left, huge puffy flakes that piled up on their hoods and gear as they rode along. It continues to be slow going, and they make it only to the regions border by nightfall, where a roadside inn is lit outside by a single candle in a box fighting against the late autumn winds.

There are only two rooms, and one bed in each; either Svari or Lucius could be classified as small people and so squeezing together in the little bed was a bit of a challenge. But they were both sailors, and squeezing together in narrow beds had become a bit of a talent- and Svari at least found a comfortable position. With Lucius’ arm as the only available pillow, she lies close at his side whispering assuringly “We should be at Stormeholde early tomorrow” as if he were worried at all. Svari knew he did not mind a little discomfort. A roadside inn for commoners was a step down even for her, the fact remained that it was better than camping in the snow.

The sound of a log being thrown into the hearth just outside their door reminds her of the innkeeper sitting on his stool meer feet away. “Thicker walls, there” a saucy snicker, seemingly met by a “hrumph” in the next room.

Sunrise came with a few stiff limbs and a well rested Lucius. A night of mostly uninterrupted sleep was exactly what he needed. The dreams left him alone, and it was really just the occasional stirring in cramped quarters that woke him, usually long enough to mutter some sweet words and then doze off once again. Now, as he lay awake, he tried not to stir too much with Svari still on his arm, and smiled. Svari is already awake, it is difficult to sleep with the man snoring in the next room and the innkeep had fallen asleep some time ago, the room is cold outside of the bed they shared telling her the fire had gone unattended while he slept but the morning sun was already out and warming the place, evidenced by the sound of water dripping off the roof outdoors. Even without all of that years of marching to orders from dawn till dusk had robbed her of the ability to sleep past dawn without the help of a lot of wine.

Lucius’ stirring does not bother her, she hardly notices him wake up as she is occupied by the sound of the snow from the night, listening for the moment a large patch would slide off the thatch and crash down.

A log being thrown into the hearth outside their door cues the waking of the innkeep and she checks Lucius beside her, finding him awake Svari lets out a long breath as if she had been holding it in for fear of waking him. Before she can say anything a heavy boot lands against the door and the bellowing of a voice as the keeper stomps across the little structure declaring crudely “IT'S MORNIN TIME TO GO” Svari rolls her eyes with annoyance, then rolls the rest of herself out of bed promptly “Lets go before they try and sell us breakfast for feck sakes…”

Lucius did manage to drag himself out of bed right behind her, though not before taking a moment to stretch out. When she sat beside him to pull her boots on, he managed to steal a kiss before getting ready himself. “You know, I only really know some of the broader histories, and what you’ve told me about Mech Alb. Damned if the last time I was here was before…” A thought that he decidedly didn’t like crossed his mind. Before that first election night. “It’s been quite a while, and even then we were just passing through,” he told her instead.

As they finished getting ready he started trying to remember the names she’d told him before, the things she had said about the land, the small farm that she kept. He only hoped he wouldn’t embarrass her. In a flat voice, still barely woken up Svari tells him the stories of her region as she knows them while they ready their horses. Instead of the -odd- smelling pottage on offer inside the little inn, Svari already has a chunk of bread brought from the city unwrapped and torn in half. She bites onto her half and mounts up on her horse before tearing it away from herself and waits for him while chewing the two day old bread with great effort.

“Do you think all nobles live like this?” She asks, remembering the gold flakes on the food at the winter festival “I wonder the last time Solomon slept on a bed stuffed with hay and ate stale bread for breakfast while at home” There is no bitterness in her voice, just pure curiosity. “I prefer this to life in the Palace, truthfully. Feather beds are nice but I always felt more at ease away from you know, diplomats. Even in Xerus I kept a farm rather than something more...grand.”

Lucius knew the feeling too well. It had taken Svari’s influence just to start decorating around his home. Having grown up thinking he could die any day, he never had much. No one wanted to deal with it. Even after he took off as a guard for a merchant ship, there was no room on a boat for more than a couple of items. His estate was large, but that was because he needed to fund his troops, and he’d brought along the blacksmith’s family from Farrowfield with him.

“Sometimes it’s good to keep things simple,” he agreed, looking out as they rode along, people setting to work in the fields for the day. He wondered for a moment if his life could have been that simple once.

As he had before, he urged his horse right up beside hers so they could talk, or even remain in a comfortable silence as Lucius truly looked at the region for the first time, and wondered what Svari saw. Home? Burden? Family? He reached over and briefly touched her arm, an affectionate gesture. They would be his family too, he supposed. They had to be better than his current one.

Mech Alb Pt 2

Mech Alb is as Svari described to him, humble, surrounded by fields already partly harvested. The keep itself was more modest than Lucius’ Estate in Demyansk and stood as the only defensive structure for a long way. It served as “Stormeholde” as well as the place peasants could run for safety when monsters or undead roamed their way. The few huts in the small village billow smoke and glow soft light in the distance, today everything is calm and quiet on their approach.

The gate guards at the front of the old stone keep barely recognize her, but let her in with little trouble. It is an old fashioned building, upon entering is the Lords great hall, nowhere to hide, nowhere to avoid /him/. The place is decorated with tattered tapestries and animal heads, lit by a dingy collection of wax dripping candelabras.

Uncle Ross, as he is known to the Storme family, is a gaunt man, small and pale, with the look of someone who does not venture outside often anymore. Barely middle aged in truth, he slouches in what would be Svari’s seat like an old man, a pillow to cushion his arm as he leans over at the head of a huge table in the great hall. The dark hair on his head is thinning, greys appearing in strips on his head already. He does not look happy to see her, greeting her with a bored roll of Storme green eyes.

As Lucius steps inside behind her Ross pushes himself up and musters up a gruff “Welcome home” While waving wildly at a servant in the hall and after getting her attention begins snapping rudely in the direction of the kegs in the corner.

Svari feels a knot in her stomach as the girl rushes to the kegs and begins pouring what Svari already knows is expensive beer. “Uncle Ross, you look well.”

“Isn't it a shock the first sign of manners you show and it’s a bloody lie” he begins to laugh, but coughs instead.

His niece takes the opportunity to introduce the man beside her “This is Lord Lucius Navaar.”

“A proper Noble!”

“Yes…” she is no longer somber and stoic, but frowning.

Ross takes three tankards from the serving girl rather than letting her place them down and sets them down himself with great effort “Sit with me boy and drink!”

Svari approaches, walking up the side of the grand table where Ross looked at not her, but Lucius with eyes alight with interest. As she asks “Where is Grandmere?” he reluctantly looks her way.

“The woman is a hundred and eight years old, she’s resting. But you know the old bat never misses a meal.” His eyes are back on Lucius “You’ve come just in time for a drink before dinner.”

Lucius managed a polite interest as Uncle Ross took control of the situation and had him in a seat with a beer with the swiftness of a hunter tracking his prey. It was hard to hide his mistrust as Svari was blatantly brushed aside by this man in her own estate, but he managed it, and he briefly wondered if this was normal among nobility. He was careful to not mention his titles at the moment, a gut feeling he got by how excited this man was to meet him.

He cast a glance toward Svari, trying to get a read on her besides what he assumed was not happy. He already had a number of questions that he could not ask here. Returning his attention back to the man between them, Lucius took a sip of the beer placed before him. It had to be at least as costly as the stuff he and Svari took out for special occasions. To have it on tap in the main hall... “A pleasure to meet you, Sir Ross,” he said pleasant enough. “This is wonderful, by the way. Svari has mentioned you before. I’m glad to finally put a face to the name, but do not mind me. Svari has not been home in some time, you should catch up with her first. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ross slurps back his beer while Lucius suggests he pay attention to Svari and turns to his niece with a wry smile “Do I dare ask what you’ve been up to?”

Like him Svari is drinking deeply, trying to numb the awkwardness around her with alcohol “I’ve been fine.”

“Fine! Fine, what more can we ask from our liege. Fine, lovely.” He drinks again “Loses every title, two, not one, two, “ she raises his eyebrows at Svari, about to mention the election but stops. “Grandmere is ever so proud, she is fine too! MUTTON for dinner by the way, again. Mutton country, Mech Alb…” He turns back to Lucius “Do you like Mutton Vestarch?”

Svari can’t help but scoff out a laugh at her uncle “Nobody likes mutton.”

“Grandmere -loves- Mutton.”

“Nobody alive likes mutton.”

Finally her uncle spares her more than a sneer, a somewhat approving grin as she insults his grandmother. “Well nobody alive makes the menu here so mutton it is. . . Why have you been so long away? She will ask.”

A very simple answer, “War.”

The intent on his questions comes to light “The war is not over.”

“It is for me.” Her glare is defiant.

Ross turns to Lucius “She is like her father; she doesn't like being asked questions. I am curious why the Vestarch has come here. Is she in some sort of trouble?” He asks Lucius, as if he does not trust Svari to tell the truth of the matter.

Lucius was reminded of some of his arguments with his brother Cayden when they were younger as he watched the back and forth between them. Just as he started to lower his guard, attention swerved back to him, and he immediately put on a friendly smile. “No trouble at all. Though I suppose being stuck with me on the road is its own form of trouble,” he said with a laugh.

“Svari and I have been rather close for some time now. I was Vice-Marshal while she was Stratarch, and then we both served as Marshal and Vice for a period.” He didn’t know how much she had shed light on their relationship with her family, and they didn’t seem to know, so he left it out for now. “After the last election, she wanted to come back home, and the western parts of the realm needed a bit of assistance, so I was happy to tag along and get away from a desk, and maybe see the countryside at leisure for once.”

He took a sip of his beer and with a bit of mischief in his eyes flat out asked, “Should she be in trouble for anything other than a bit too much filial piety in her own lands?” Perhaps the question was harsher than he should have asked, but he followed up with, “It’s her decision of course, and I don’t like my family very much, so who am I to judge?” This time the grin was directed at Svari. He’d already heard a couple of these jokes on the road.

Ross furrows his brow at the younger man just in time for a creaky door to be swung open by maids carrying a few heavy trays of hastily prepared food. Svari can see at once that there was only meant to be two for dinner, as most of the meal was bread and potatoes...at least the beer is good. As Ross had predicted, Grandmere appeared seconds after the meal did.

As Svari’s uncle had said, she was really around a hundred years old, absolutely shriveled and hunched, with a walking cane that seemed to be the only thing keeping her upright as she hobbled through the same creaky door being held open by the maids. She pauses upon entering the hall and hobbles toward Ross, who slinks out of her way a bit like a beaten dog out of the Lord's seat and beside Svari. Like she owned the place, Grandmere places the pillow down for her bottom and sits in the seat of honour staring over the table at the three others. She is frowning, and has been frowning for many years judging by the deep wrinkles drooping along her face. “Ross!” Her voice is trembling, but shrill “Who are these strangers!”

“It is Svari and the Vestrach, Lord Lucius Navaar. My Lord, this is my Grandmother Genevieve Storme” He gives his grandmother a look, hoping she will be nice now that she has heard the man's title.

A squint, and a scoff, Grandmere is busy picking out the best bits of mutton for herself while muttering about something “Alright so how much gold to bail her out of whatever she’s done this time.”

“Aha, no Grandmere” Svari is already tired of being guilty for doing nothing “We’re here for a visit that's all. I wanted to see you.”

The deep set wrinkles somehow turn into a flash of a smile at that, but it does not last long at all “And what kept you from wishing to see me for the last ….Year?” She looks to Ross who nods “Year.”

“War.” Svari recipes simply again, taking her own serving of the mutton in gravy- which she hopes tasted better than it looks. She tears apart a heel of bread and hands the upper crust to Grandmere who snatches it up happily. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

“I’m just glad you’re not here with a hefty fine but you, what are you doing here Vestarch?”

“We’re just visiting” Svari sighs.

Ross interrupts “Oh according to the vestarch they’re very close. “He doesn’t like his family, wants to ‘tag along’; meet hers…”

Grandmere chuckles “Is that so Vestarch? Well? Is it all you dreamed?” Grandmere dips her bread into the gravy and takes a bite with her few teeth before continuing. “Stormeholde, a proud name for a proud turnip farm.”

Lucius shrugged. “It could be worse. You could just have another potato farm like everyone else,” he said with a grin. “At least turnips are interesting.” He wouldn’t say anything about their relationship if Svari didn’t, and she wasn’t in a rush it seemed. “Still, it’s interesting to see Beluaterran sensibilities change little between warrior families. I am slightly reminded of my home back in Reeds.” He did not clarify if that was a good thing or not.

“I must ask, Svari, is it my title or have you always been that much of a handful that everyone just assumes I’m here because you’ve been arrested?” He was sure he’d pay for that question later, but he meant it in good fun and to nudge the conversation away from their relationship.

There is no pause to think for Svari, she blurts “I am always in trouble” to the joy of her relatives who clearly both agree.

“So you tagged along to get a break, and you’ve spent time together at war” Grandmere is thinking out loud as she stabs a potato from the tray between them all and brings it to her plate. “You find turnips interesting, so I must assume you think Svari is interesting.”

A chuckle from Ross, but he does not interrupt his grandmother.

Grandmere looks as though she is about to continue but Svari cuts her off at once “We’re going to be married soon.” She finally said it, and waited for the consequence while drinking her beer anxiously.

A pause ensues as Grandmere continues eating while Ross looks between the two of them in shock “Why?”

“She’s with child” Her grandmother finally snaps.

Svari baulks at her “I am -not-”

“Then why?” Ross asks quickly, looking between the two with the first show of life since they had arrived. Seeing Svari squirm was a great joy for him, and few people had a talent for it like their Grandmere.

She shrugs, at a loss.

“Did you tell him?” Ross asks sternly.

A small shake of her head and the other two Stormes burst out into laughter, look at eachother and laugh a little more. Meanwhile Svari looks like she wants to flee from that room as fast as possible. “Seems you are in trouble with the Vestarch after all.” Grandmere taunts between chuckles. Her meal is neglected now, forgotten in light of this new avenue to torture Svari. “Investigate that!”

She and Uncle Ross laugh once more for good measure.

The first sign that something was wrong was the soft splatter as bread hit gravy. Svari was good to poke fun at. Tidemother knew he did it plenty enough, but she was always in on the joke, and the line was to never upset her with it. His frustration and revulsion with her treatment, no longer restrained, finally manifested in a cold stare that could drop the temperature. His jaw clenched shut, restraining himself from speaking, but it wouldn’t hold.

“I think you’ve said enough.” The one sentence came out with the weight of a man who would always stand in Svari’s corner, the authority of the Vestarch, and something new, the anger of a bloodline of kings and leaders that would have their will done, focused into a few words.

Having barely touched his food, Lucius stood up and stepped around the older relatives in silence, not even paying them a glance as he reached Svari and placed a hand on her shoulder, a clear signal that he was with her. If Svari took a look at him, what would she see?

Svari does look at him, and sees a tightness in Lucius’s jaw and shoulders that makes it clear that he is not about to play nice for much longer. She places her hand on his and explains “I’ll explain later. Sit beside me, eat something and I can show you around the village...”

She tries serving up some of the mutton on a plate but Grandmere won’t have it “We’re all family here gel.”

“It’s not polite conversation for dinner,” Svari insists.

Ross rolls his eyes, stopping them just to stare -bemused- at Lucius as he reveals “She was born a bastard and remains one. My brother…” the mention of Svari’s father has drawn the frown back on Grandmere’s face, but Ross seems not to care and continues “Got into where he shouldn’t have been as usual. And here she is.” He motions to Svari “We’re so proud.”

“It’s not her fault” Grandmere grumbles, but Svari knows the next words and they are not kind “If I had my time back i’d have Kerrigan dashed against the rocks and Svari raised up in his place… Never had a good strong girl, not one. That’s why the family is in such dire straits.”

While Ross and Grandmere bicker momentarily over which of the two should have died twenty-seven years ago, Svari or her father, the girl in question looks as somber as she ever has. The insults roll off her back, the cruel words do not sting anymore, her family are shameless in their treatment and have raised her to feel grateful to even be allowed at their table. The guilt of her secret being held so long and coming out this way takes hold of her throat like a vice and she finds she cannot even speak to apologize to him.

Lucius didn't try to eat. Svari’s efforts to make him sit were lost. If this was how Svari was treated by her family, it certainly explained a few things. He tried to sit, even set his hand on the back of the chair when one more snide comment came out. Instead of pulling out the chair he slammed it back into the table with an angry growl. "It's disgraceful that you can sit here and ridicule her after living off of her hard work," he snapped. He was done.

Turning to Svari, he at least started to look apologetic. "I think I've overstayed my welcome, but this is your home. Chase me out, or find me outside. If I stay in here any longer I might be poisoned by… this," he added with a gesture to the table before stalking off.

“Just like old times” Grandmere chirps.

“It’s a bit like having your father home, so explosive.” Ross says on Lucius’ retreat, grinning wolfishly at Svari who just scoffed and stood from the table. “Are you going to run after him?” He asks tauntingly.

Svari looks between the door and the table, then reluctantly sits back with her family. It is a long lecture about how it is her fathers fault that they have to rely on her in the first place while picking at mutton and potato. When Finally Grandmere is finished Svari kisses her goodnight, pulls her cloak on and leaves Uncle Ross without a word as he complains to a maid about taking the plate from him before he is done. She moves toward the inner doors but instead of heading to her chambers she swipes a large bottle of wine off the sideboard and keeps going right out the front and into the night air, it is a shock to walk out into after spending the better part of an hour having dinner near the great hearth.

Her breath clings to the air as she wanders around the courtyard, instinctively upward knowing Lucius’ tendency for scaling anything he could find. The sun has nearly set and it is eerily quiet there compared to Golden Farrow, there was no great staff or bustling city- just a few guards standing watch in the expected places and no one else...that she could see. After peering up at the old stone walls while pacing with the heavy bottle in hand she calls out into the darkness “Lucy?”

"Took you long enough." The harsh words came from a shadow on the wall as it dropped down into the courtyard below.

As he stepped into the light, he was frowning, disappointed in his own tone. He was mad because he had left, stuck between letting her take the abuse or starting a fight with her family. Having decided that a physical altercation was probably worse, he left hoping she would be right behind him. Having no way to spend his anger it had finally sputtered out in those few words. He sighed. "I'm sorry. I couldn't sit there and watch them talk to you like that."

His eyes fell on the wine bottle and he offered a smile. He cast a glance up to the night sky and laughed. "Still want to give me that tour?"

“Nah” is his simple reply, she was sure his anger would be directed at her but to hear it directed at her family is a slight relief, though she still has the looming feeling that she was about to get told off. “You have nothing to apologize for….After another beer Uncle Ross said he would’ve thought less of you if you had stuck around.”

If he would let her, she would lead him back to the walls opposite the keep, looking out over the little village nestled on the slopes nearby. A watchtower stood unmanned at the top level, enough shelter to keep them from the wind and away from prying eyes. It is here she finally uncorks the bottle by biting on it with her teeth and hands it to him for the first drink. How could she explain herself without looking like a coward? She had brought him here hoping Ross would be smart enough not to mention her shame but instead reveled in revealing it to her lover. “There is just a lot that you do not know...”

She rolls her shoulders, looking very uneasy “I understand why they are the way they are.”

Lucy took a careful first sip. He had skipped dinner and didn't want to get angry again and drunk. Not yet at least. His answer was simple enough in his head, but he knew simple for him might not also be the case for her. "Maybe you could explain it to me? Because I'm still tempted to go back in there for blood." It would be so easy too, the hunter's gaze flickered in his eyes for the briefest of moments, something he had kept suppressed for months now.

“Please don’t murder my family” she says with a laugh emerging from her words, recognizing that it was a ridiculous statement. “Uncle Ross is sick, and grandmere is over a hundred- that wasn’t a joke she’s not my grandmere she’s Ross’. Not a good fight” she tries to make another joke, squirming under the uncommonly intense look in his eyes. “They blame my father for all the misfortune the family has had, because he had me.” she explains it very matter of factly, albeit nervously the situation has not been one that hurt her since she was a girl but she still feared what Lucius’ verdict may be at the end of the night. Their cruelty had always been explained away as a way to hurt her father, something she had just grown to accept and let roll off her back. Now seeing her love react to the way they treated her she had to wonder if their reasons were still the same; her father was nowhere to be seen.

Svari leans against the wooden supports atop the watchtower and looks out at the village, piecing together for the first time “I don’t know anything about my mother but her name, and that they hate her more than anyone else. Say she corrupted my father, their heir” she lets out a long breath and reaches for the wine bottle “Maybe I just remind them of her.”

Lucius sighed. “If that’s the case, maybe you remind them of a better person than they can be,” he said bitterly. When he took the bottle back he took a much longer drink this time before passing it off again.

The young Lord let her words bounce around his head, this way and that, slightly off kilter by the alcohol on an empty stomach. “Let me see if I understand this,” he said quietly, staring off into nothing. “Svari Storme, born to a nobleman, a recognized heir of said nobleman, a woman that worked her way up to Stratarch and Countess, lofty titles in their own right, a woman that challenged the Navarch’s seat for right of rulership, is the reason your family is doing poorly?” He clenched his hands into fists, once more trying to keep this newfound anger under control.

“How does that make sense?” It sounded like they lost control and wanted to keep it, but he wasn’t sure enough to say it out loud.

“It’s just history, Lucy.” She is handling the wine better than him, he is upset on her behalf not at her and as always there is a stake of guilt driven into her heart upon that realization. He still thinks so highly of her, listing out the accomplishments her family had squashed not long ago at dinner.

”Listen...They don’t bother me” She reaches a hand out for him cautiously, afraid that he will not take it. “But you have not mentioned anything about what Ross said.”

The word is a dirty one, she hates to say it almost as much as she hates hearing it, and asks the dreaded question “After learning that, and seeing Ross... do you still want to marry me?”

Lucius gave Svari a questioning look. “All of that, and that’s what bothers you?” He takes Svari’s hand and gives it a squeeze before swiping the wine and backing to the opposite corner of the tower. Hiding the wine behind his back he smiles at her. “Ri, honestly, what kind of man do you take me for?”

She answers back point blank “I wouldn’t marry me” but follows him across the little platform like a moth following it’s flame. “What if your heir is like Ross, weak, frail?” Svari reaches for the bottle with a snatch more playful than the conversation warrants.

“How would one marry oneself anyway?” he asks, letting her take the bottle, but capitalizing on the opportunity. He grabbed her arm in his free hand and pulled her right into his arms. He pressed close against her and met her eyes inches away. “And to have that heir, wouldn’t that mean that I want to marry you? Or do you believe that we would have our fun and I am the kind of person that would disappear with the wind one day?” His smirk said he was having fun at her expense.

“Let’s see. There’s moving out of the house to deal with. I’m sure Ede will take you in. I also think you have at least three of my shirts. We’ll need some kegs to split the alcohol. I think we can figure out the decorations from our raids easily enough…” He trailed off, his joke becoming a little too real. Instead, he brought his hand between them, and gently revealed the falcon hanging around her neck. “We’ve both been through plenty of shyte, and we have our regrets. You have never been one of them, Ri.”

Svari brings a hand up to push his away from her necklace and make room for her embrace, the bottle held at her side as she thinks about his words. He was joking but she had been wrestling with the idea of having him leave for months, and for nothing… She feels as stupid as she does lucky. “I love you” is muttered into his chest, and she lingers there for a long moment.

---

After polishing off the bottle of wine together outdoors they return to the keep long after the other Stormes had gone to bed. Leaning on each other in the way they had been skilled at; Lucius might be happy to know that for all the disrespect at the dining table, the Lords chambers remained Svari’s alone even in her long absence. There was some modicum of recognition of her title among them, even if it was symbolic. Their nights can at least be comfortable, and they have a private place to be when they wish to be alone. By the end of their trip Stormeholde feels like home again, her guards know her face and she feels like she has had a chat with every peasant in the region after a few days wandering the village with Lucius. When the time finally comes to part ways there is a bitter sweetness...She will miss him every moment they are apart, yet is excited to finally see Edelyn again.

Their horses snort in annoyance as they say their goodbyes standing in the muddy road. “Please be careful traveling alone...You know the rumors in council.” Svari reminds Lucius at the crossroads. Autumn winds and moist air chill to the bone, it is a grey and miserable day to have to say goodbye.