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Post by Hunt Valier on Mar 5, 2023 14:59:51 GMT -5
It had been over a week since his spar with the Prince of Manthir and he had spent most of it leading patrols along the main roads of Ramberaht hunched over his saddle, sleeping on frozen ground in a tent, being chided by his fellow officers for risking his own limbs, and writing letters. Letters explaining how five to ten men patrols along the roads were wholly inadequate both for their size and location. Letters expressing the entire lack of their invaders to use rods. Letters requesting more organization and enforcement rather than simply more men. Letters to the few families he could find a contact for when one of their scouts didn't make it home. The only letters he didn't find himself writing were requests for supplies. Turns out when there are enough casualties, there is plenty to go around.
Hunt had never considered his written Imperial to be very solid, but after months, Hunt finally felt he could say he was more than fluent.
Unfortunately, he didn't do a lot of reading in return.
His latest reports had be sent by rabbithawk and he once again found hinself summoned to the capital. This time he made his report to a new garrison outside the city. Which he supposed was a necessary show for the people but it meant nothing to his men. Hunt didn't care if there was a declaration of war or not, he simply cared about protecting people. Right now, he couldn't do that appropriately. All of this he argued to Commander Farrins. Most of it he doubted reached the Margrave. Why either man was Herr in the central region as opposed to the northern where their soldier were was a point he had learned to avoid speaking to.
The captain stormed out of the tent, bristling with frustrated barely contained beneath the surface. There was a find line between displaying how much he cared and the commanders taking offense. He wasn't trying to make them dislike him more than they already seemed to. At least this time they accepted his reports on numbers and loses with only a nod and not some stupid request such as sparring with the Prince.
"Hey! Foreigner!"
He didn't pause. It was perhaps the least creative name calling he had been subject to.
"Silver-eyes!"
That one made him balk and grit his teeth. Don't turn around.
"You come all this way to fight for us and what've you to show for it, eh? Couple dead farmers?"
Hunt spun. "And what have you done for those farmers?" He growled, regretting the words before they were out of his mouth, but he had started it so now he would finish it. "Kept these walls perfectly safe?" He gestured above them at the massive white stone walls of the outer city. "Those are your people out there. Being slaughtered and captured like cattle."
There were four of them. Two lieutenants and two corporal, all of them with noble house crests on their shoulders and the Dunmar colors of maroon and blue on their sleeves. "Our King has decreed-"
Hunt opened his mouth to declare exactly what he thought about their king but hesitated just a moment. One of the lieutenants stepped forward, holding his hands out in a calming gesture, a smirk on his thin lips. "Easy there, boys. Looks like our silvereyed friend here has something to say. Come now. Speak up. What's that? cat got your tongue, you bastard?"
"Come now, coward!"
"Show us how to protect those farmers!"
"Bloody silver-eyes!"
Hunt stepped toward them, catching himself. Just because it hurt didn't mean he had to engage. But it was too late to disengage. They matched his step and then some, one grabbing his collar, another his arm, the lieutent that spoke in depth slamming his fist into his stomach. Hunt knew he shouldn't have instigated anything back. Not in such an unfair fight.
One of the others twisted his arm, and he gasped in pain. He'd sustained some injuries on his last patrol, putting himself in between one of his men and a few arrows. Not his smartest maneuver, but they had both lived. He'd been recommended a sling that he refused to use while standing before his superiors. Now, though, fresh blood stained the bandages under his sleeve.
He twisted away, breaking the hold on one only to be slammed by another into the gatehouse wall, nearly losing his breath and barely ducking another blow to his cheek.
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Post by Jasper Rost on Mar 5, 2023 18:06:17 GMT -5
Jasper had taken the evening to go out for a walk. Behind him was a potential candidate for his warden. A young man, just a few years younger than the Prince himself. He felt it was about time he seriously start looking for a warden, he was twenty six now after all. And wandering around with a group of guards at his heel at all times was annoying. The Prince wanted his own space and part of him envied the relationship his father had with his Warden. But having a woman for a Warden had already been controversial when his father claimed her. But the trust the King had in Lotte was unmistakable. That was what he wanted.
Currently it was him, the Warden candidate close to his heel, and two other Red Guards a few short feet behind them. Jasper had been fine talking a bit with the younger man and getting to know him until he heard a commotion. He moved over to find four of his own soldiers ganging up on someone he couldn't quite see. "Attention!" His normally soft and calm voice boomed in the space around them. Bouncing off walls with the command he'd been trained to have
The four men turned around and startled at the sight of their Prince. "Your Highness!" They released the man in their hold and bowed to one knee in front of Jasper. "Anyone want to explain to me what the hell is going on here?" His voice was calm and even but dropped with anger at the edges like poison. "We were just having a little fun with our foreigner friend here, Sir." He turned his eyes to Hunt finally and recognition sparked in his eyes before he turned them back to his soldiers.
"Do you really have so little to do that you decide to harass our own men?" He snapped making the four of them freeze for a moment. "Our soldiers, your brothers, are dying in the fields and you decide your best course of action is assaulting one of our own?"
"He's not-" one began to say that Hunt was merely some foreigner but was cut off. "I didn't say you could speak." The soldiers mouth shut quickly. "If you're so bored allow me to rectify the situation, I'll be speaking with your commanders about giving you some proper work and we'll see how much energy you have to attack our men." He stared down at them for a moment as they refused to speak or even look up at the Prince. "You four are dismissed." The four men stood and quickly made their way back to their stations, throwing some glares back to the scout as they left.
Jaspers features softened as he stepped closer to the other man but kept a short distance. "Are you alright? Do you need assistance?"
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Exile
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Post by Hunt Valier on Mar 5, 2023 18:59:40 GMT -5
He could have fought back. Hand to hand, he could probably take one of them. Maybe two of the smaller men. But Hunt wasn't a large man himself, didn't have the weight to throw around. Certainly he could have been more imposing if he tried, but he wasn't trying. They could wale on him all they wanted and the most he would let himself do to fight back was to try and lessen the blows. They would get bored eventually.
He took another blow to his stomach and crumpled to the ground, holding himself up with his good right arm and feeling everything spin as he tried to suck in air. The shout for attention rang over him and he stiffened, years of training demanding he get himself to his feet and stand alert. But that would require breath he didn't have. And as his gaze glanced up, he immediately wanted to groan in annoyance. But that required breathing too.
Bloody Prince and his bloody entourage. He hadn't asked for reinforcements for this personal battle because it was a war he wasn't going to win. The longer it went on, the worse it would get for him. He'd be lucky if he made it back to his horse tonight in one piece.
Still, he pulled himself to one of the sorriest bows he'd ever managed, still wheezing and using it to cover a snort. He knew a rhetorical question when he heard one even if these soldiers did not. The Prince had quite the air about him.
Hunt cringed internally. Should their commanders find them fit for punishment, they would be sent North, to join one of the scout companies. Probably his. And so continued the war. There at least, his higher rank would mean something to them. He wouldn't argue with the man's form of justice however.
He kept his gaze to the street the entire exchange, even as he heard the Prince move closer. He was bleeding from his nose and a cut on his cheek and the wounds on his left wrist had started to bleed through his sleeve. Thankfully the uniform was black so unless the man decided to help him up, no one would know. Hunt remained kneeling, cleaning up the pose as he got his breath back.
He wanted to say no. Like every other time. But that would be a bigger lie. "Now isn't the time for rhetorical questions, Your Highness," he said seriously.
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Post by Jasper Rost on Mar 6, 2023 0:47:29 GMT -5
"Schtoll, go get me a medic." He ordered the Red Guard that had stood on the street. "Yes, Sir." Jasper stepped closer and reached down for his hand. "Give me your hand." He said as he moved to help the man to his feet again. He kept a hand on him to make sure he wouldn't topple over as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket.
"Give me your wrist." Jasper could see him bleeding from several places but didn't want to just start wiping his face like he was his mother. Still, he wrapped his handkerchief around his wrist. "Do you need help walking?" He wanted to make sure the man got some attention before they got him to a healing center.
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Post by Hunt Valier on Mar 6, 2023 1:20:17 GMT -5
Hunt spat blood on the cobblestones but did his best to stay where he was. Maybe some would say he was stupidly clinging to propriety, but it was more than that. It was discipline and a respect for authority so ingrained in him that even after everything, after losing his home, after the officers here pushing him around, he couldn't let go. The moment the Prince demanded his hand and reached for him though, he relaxed. Hunt eased himself off his knees and against the wall, running his right hand through his dark messy hair and wiping away some of the blood on his face.
He wasn't sure he needed a medic. Well, his wrist he supposed, wincing as he let the Prince have his way. Hunt met the eyes of the other two guards ehind him and neither of them wanted to meet his gaze for long but neither did they back down. One seemed particularly intense about the Prince being here and touching him. On his feet, Hunt leaned against the wall more than the royal, feeling dizzy. He closed his eyes and took a breath.
The captain grunted in pain as the man took his tender wrist and pressed the handkerchief to him. Royalty or not, he swore through his teeth. "That's not...not necessary, Your Highness," Hunt insisted, though he didn't pull away as he still caught his breath. Nothing felt broken at least but he imagined there would be a lot more bruises and cuts than he'dhad before. He wished none of this was necessary. What he needed was a drink and space to be away from people who didn't understand.
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Post by Jasper Rost on Mar 6, 2023 1:34:58 GMT -5
Jasper wasn't currently bothered with either of the other two men behind them. All he was worried about was the man that was currently bleeding and hardly holding himself up. At the moment he also wasn't concerned with title. Someone needed his help, that was what mattered. "Don't be stubborn." He insisted but he made no moves to try and wrap his arm around the other man. If he honestly felt like he could walk on his own the Prince wouldn't baby him.
There was a part of Jasper that wanted to ask if this had happened before. But there was another part of him that knew the answer to that question. The mere idea that they would abuse and berate Hunt simply because he wasn't born in Manthir made his blood boil. What did it matter if he was born in Taknier? Or even if he'd been born a Lutrian. He was with them now. Fighting and risking his life along side other Manthirian men.
As far as Jasper was concerned that made Hunt one of them. He could still hold the love and traditions of his old culture but that wasn't his home anymore. He moved with the scout and led him to a bench not far from where they'd been standing. Just to give him a moment to sit down and let the medic check him over when they arrived. He'd walk close and hover one hand close to his back just in case he needed help after all until he finally sat down.
"Look at me." He ordered just so he could get a closer look at his face. Jasper wasn't a medic but he could at least recognize a broken nose when he saw one and he wanted to see how bad the injuries were.
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Post by Hunt Valier on Mar 6, 2023 1:56:29 GMT -5
Hunt snorted. Which turned out more painful than anything. Stubborn? Hardly. He was honest. He could walk. And having a Prince shuffle him around felt uncomfortable. Even him just shepherding him to the bench was a lot. He pressed one hand to his lower ribs carefully to relieve some of the pressure, but didn't bother until buttoning anything and pushing aside his jacket and shirt until he slumped onto the bench. Definitely a few bruises.
At the Prince's order Hunt begrudgingly turned his gaze up to the man, pale stare sharp and defiant. Besides his nose and wrist everything else was minor. But he didn't speak to his own problems. "You punish those men, you'll be signing their death warrant," he warned, wincing as he spoke. "Scouting is a favorite punishment, and I'm lucky." Stupidly lucky.
The Red Guard returned with one of the army medics, a slender, nervous woman who was more than a little confused. She curtsied and then busied herself inspecting the captain for injuries, pushing aside his hair, nudging him, opening up his jacket fully. She mumbled to herself and asked him to remove the jacket so she could re-bandage his wrist. "How did you do this?" She asked.
"Tried to catch an arrow," he said flatly. The woman blinked at him lole he was an idiot. She was probably right. "I missed." Except clearly the arrow hadn't missed him.
He turned his gaze back to the Prince, not hiding his annoyance. The man had barely been back two weeks and they encountered each other twice. Maybe he was unlucky instead.
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Post by Jasper Rost on Mar 6, 2023 2:12:52 GMT -5
"Or I can have them shoveling horse shit and spit shining work boots for the next month." A punishment didn't always have to be sending someone out to battle. Especially if that was something they wanted. Obviously those men had some aggression to work out and sending them to fight some other foreigners would hardly make them learn their lessons. When the medic finally arrived the Prince scoot to the side and allowed the girl to work.
The comment on him trying to catch an arrow, unsuccessfully, did make him snicker softly to himself. Once he was patched up again the Prince sighed softly to himself. "Thank you for coming out." He said gently to the girl with a warm smile before he dismissed her. "Walk her back, Schtoll." He ordered the soldier again who nodded and moved with the girl back. "You two are dismissed as well." He told the other two with him.
The Red Guard stood still for a moment, uncertain. His candidate hesitated as well and gave Jasper a concerned look. "Sir, are you sure that's wise?" The Prince sighed as she stood from the bench. "I will be fine, I'm not helpless." Of course he knew if anything did happen to him and his guards left him the King would have their heads but....that wasn't currently his concern. "Leave." He ordered making the two hesitantly walk away.
Jasper turned his eyes back to the scout with a small smile. "Have a drink with me?"
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Post by Hunt Valier on Mar 6, 2023 2:28:56 GMT -5
Hunt grunted. Those were better. Less useful bullshit but better than anyone else dying or making them his problem. As for the Prince laughing at him, he cast a sideways glare at the man. So it was funny. He wasn't joking.
He tolerated her bandaging and resetting his nose with a few gasps and grunts, wiping away more blood. If he had just kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened. The scout captain straightened his hair and rebuttoned his jacket, standing carefully and making sure everything else was in place.
Upon finding himself the only escort for the Prince however he stiffened. No. No, he wasn't doing this. He- Hunt frowned. The Prince was inviting the likes of him to a drink? "You sent you guards away on purpose," he pointed out. Certainly he understood the man could defend himself. But having a guard was more than that, it was about identity and someone who could help him navigate situations. About never being alone because he didn't need to be alone. About someone who would do the things he could not or would not. With the other three gone, that responsibility fell to Hunt. He despised it. He didn't think about the man wanting to get him alone.
"Alone. With the Prince. Light, am I supposed to feel honored? What if I said no?" The two of them both knew he would not say no. But why the man was so interested in him....he despised that too.
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Post by Jasper Rost on Mar 6, 2023 2:43:21 GMT -5
When he stated the obvious about the Prince sending away his guards on purpose one corner of his lips quirked slightly upwards. "I did." He stated plainly. Of course he knew guards were more than protection. They were a status symbol. A buffer between him and the other people around him. Sometimes they were an extension of himself and certainly they could be useful. But sometimes he wanted to be alone. Or, just alone with someone else. He didn't like having the status symbol. The buffer. Didn't need an extension of himself. Sometimes he just wanted to be Jasper. Not the crowned Prince, heir to the throne, future King of Manthir. Sometimes he just wanted to be a man talking to another man.
He wasn't trying to force Hunt to be his guard, especially not in his current state. But the man seemed so....distant. So separated from everyone else around him. Jasper just wanted him to know he didn't have to be. Maybe that idea was selfish of him. When he asked if he was supposed to feel honored though Jasper's face scrunched in displeasure. "Am I not allowed to just have a drink with someone?" This was why it was so hard to make friends.
If people weren't trying to use him they were afraid of him. Because of who he was. Because of what he represented. "If you want to leave you're free to go." He said with a shrug and motioned with his hand back to the outpost. "I'm not here to hold you hostage and I'd understand if you'd rather be in bed than walking with me to get a drink." Jasper shrugged his shoulders and rubbed his hand up and down his forearm.
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Post by Hunt Valier on Mar 6, 2023 10:07:31 GMT -5
Hunt's frown deepened. He was convinced the man was trying to annoy him but he couldn't imagine why. Was this all some elaborate punishment? Why was the Prince so set on forming this attachment? He couldn't know he was so depressed and detached. Hunt might be dedicated to his position in the military but only insofar as it allowed him to let go and embrace the void. He might have saved a man's life 'trying to catch an arrow,' but he had known the potential result and welcomed it.
And here the Prince was, dropping everything to pick him up and pull him down from the brink. It had to be coincidence. Hunt finished fixing his uniform, keeping his left arm against his side a bit more protectively. "Fine, Your Highness. I can be your excuse to meet someone alone at the tavern. But only this once." From the serious teasing, Hunt clearly wasn't afraid of him, stiff and formal as he acted half the time. Considering the man hadn't ever introduced himself, Hunt maintained the use of his title. Yes, he well knew the man's first name and yes, he was supposed to call him 'sir' normally, but it was difficult to not be so formal especially when the man hadn't asked him to be.
The comment about being in bed was a strange one, leading to vague suggestions of the two of the in bed together as opposed to at a tavern together. Hunt mentally side stepped that image and put it down to Imperial being his second language. Though presumably, he looked like he needed better rest. There were bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, his hair was still a bit of a mess, and his movements were a lot stiffer than the week before despite being younger than the man before him. Hunt grimaced, resting his had on his sword hilt. "Lead the way, Your Highness."
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Post by Jasper Rost on Mar 6, 2023 18:50:28 GMT -5
Perhaps Jasper knew what it was like to want to be swallowed by that void of nothing. Scream into the abyss and expect, want, silence. Perhaps the Prince knew what it was to lay back in a grave of ones own creation. And perhaps there was something about the abyss in Hunt that called back to his own like an echo chamber. Honestly, he wasn't sure. He'd spent years clawing his way up on his own. Digging through dirt and rocks to get the slightest hint of air. And perhaps selfishly he just wanted to be totally alone with someone else.
"Just this once? Perhaps it's I that should feel honored." Once again Jasper had given the man an out. And once again, he'd refused it. Was it out of obligation or his own loneliness? With his fist over his heart he gave the man a respectful bow. "My name is Jasper Rost, crowned Prince and future King of the country of Manthir." He didn't know why he was introducing himself now. The man hadn't exactly introduced himself either and the Prince hardly needed to say who he was. "But you may just call me Jasper if you like." He looked up from his bow with a warm smile before he stood straight again. Was it inappropriate for this scout to just call him by his first name? Absolutely. But that wasn't something the Prince was concerned about at the moment.
The night air was cool against his skin and Jasper ached to get inside somewhere warm. "You honestly think I need a wingman to hook up with someone? Am I that unattractive?"
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Post by Hunt Valier on Mar 6, 2023 19:21:45 GMT -5
He narrowed his eyes at the other man's patronizing. Perhaps he was trying to make a joke but Hunt hardly found it amusing.
He was about to say as much when the man silenced him with an introduction. Hunt closed his mouth, faintly confused, but not because of the introduction. Well, certainly the bow had him speechless and he had to check himself to keep from instinctively kneeling again. Hunt tried to separate the various customs in his head to keep things...normal. That said, he was internally horrified that the man gave him permission to use his first name, even if such a thing was vastly different in his own kingdom. Here, as Prince, Jasper could break most rules and only face his father. In Taknier, a noble or even one of the Princes could not forgo tradition without it harming their image and reputation.
"I would not like to, Your Highness," he said flatly. Perhaps because he was trying to intentionally annoy the man. He wasn't inclined to say. He supposed he could get less formal if asked, but not more casual. That would be innapropriate. "Captain Hunt Valier." He stressed the enunciation of his surname. It seemed pointless to suggest the Prince call him anything, as the man would do what he liked regardless.
He would follow the man just behind his shoulder, certainly more like an escort than a companion. Hunt didn't bother looking over at him. While he considered the man attractive, he had grown up his entire life being taught that was inappropriate. From what he had seen in Manthir, it was perhaps not so offensive to warrant conversion, but it was not wholly accepted. Clearly the Prince was simply making a poor joke. "I have no comment, Your Highness," he said cooly.
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Post by Jasper Rost on Mar 7, 2023 16:58:25 GMT -5
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Valier." Seeing as the man had put so much enunciation on his surname, and that he didn't want to call the Prince by his, perhaps he would feel better with less familiarity. He didn't mind that the man chose not to walk right next to him. Most people didn't and it was something he'd come to accept. Generally unless it was his father or one of his sisters they stayed a bit back. Though he'd noticed sometimes his father's Warden walked next to the King instead of behind.
At being told he had no comment on his looks Jasper couldn't help but chuckle. In his position it wasn't appropriate for him to have a male lover. He was supposed to marry a women, have lots of children, train his heir to take the throne when he died. Like his father had. But he wasn't going to be disowned or exiled for being interested in men. So long as he did his duties and wasn't public about it. That was the hardest part. In a perfect world he would have a King consort and someway for a woman to birth his child without actually having to sleep with her. But nothing was ever perfect.
When they arrived at the tavern the serving girl that greeted them seemed surprised. "Your Highness! It's a pleasure to have you here." Jasper smiled warmly as she curtsied to him. "Could I get a more private table please?" He wasn't at all interested in prying eyes and ears at the moment. "Of course, Sir, right this way." She led the two to a small table against a back wall. There was a half wall that partially cut it off from the rest of the tavern. The space was a little snug but he wouldn't complain. "Thank you." He said as he took a seat and motioned for Hunt to do the same. "Is there anything I can get you?"
"Ale please." He said before looking to his current companion expectantly.
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Post by Hunt Valier on Mar 7, 2023 17:16:21 GMT -5
Hunt was a little less tense at the use of his surname. Granted, it wasn't his real family name, that having been surrendered upon his exile, along with other things. But that made it even easier. The Prince referring to him by a name that was farther from his own than his first name added an extra buffer of distance. One more layer between him and the truth.
The captain had never visited this tavern before. The Rabbithawk was the typical haunt of commoners. This establishment, with its higher ceilings, armored bouncers, numerous fireplaces, and clean floor and bar top, serviced a finer clientele that Hunt might once had categorized himself as. As it was now, he was only allowed in the door because of his current company. Whom he appeared all the world to be escorting, hence why the waitress hardly even looked at him. Of course, when one was with the Prince, regardless of their rank, they tended to get overlooked.
Hunt followed the man to the back and a small, nearly private table. He scanned the walkway, making note of the entrance, the windows, the likely rear exit. It was a lot more cramped than he liked. A lot more public. If someone tried to… Hunt took a breath. This was not only not his job, but the man had actively invited him here for a drink. Not to watch his back. And yet part of him couldn't help but want to, and not out of silly obligation.
The Taknieri moved out of the way for the waitress as she began to move away, not even looking at him. Hunt watched her go and looked back at the Prince with a shrug. Appears he didn't count as people around the Prince to anyone else either. He didn't sit, instead leaning against the wall across from the table, arms folded. "Who are we rendezvousing with this evening, Your Highness?" Hunt asked, tone serious. He knew the answer he simply seemed keen on annoying the man and playing oblivious.
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