Completed Oh, Brother!

[Saskia Kerraelas]

It was not all that difficult to find Faramund the day after Saskia returned from visiting Valenntenia, a city found in the northern Steppes. The two weeks of travel had the young dusker questioning many things, and contemplating all sorts, but that morning she woke with determination. Being alone with her thoughts for two weeks had sent her near mad, but sometime three days ago, Saskia came to the conclusion that there was someone she could ask sound advice from.

Dropping two tankards onto his table in the Knoll, a plate overloaded with sweet cakes — for her own sake than the mere thought of sharing — clattering onto the wooden surface, Saskia climbed over the bench seat opposite from Faramund.

"Right! Do not make a run for it, Faramund! I need to ask you a question!" Saskia lightly waved one tankard in the air between them before placing it before him, not paying attention to the fact he already had a drink in hand. "I need your advice." She did well to hide her nerves, stuffing a small cake into her mouth and furiously chewing on it, looking as if the very qiestion was hard for her to even bring herself to ask.

Finally, she swallowed, washing it down with her own tankard filled with the sweetest mead.

"What is your advice on boys?"

 

[Faramund]

'Do you now?' Sniffing, Faramund flipped back to the page he had been on, all too aware of the danger he was in. What I wouldn't give for a moment's peace! He thought, eyes flitting to the sweet cakes piled on the plate between them.

Taking one, he bit into it, careful not to spill any crumbs on the book he had been reading. Leather-bound and worn, the illustration on the front had been colourful enough to draw his gaze. Of course, had he known then what he knew now, he probably would've left the damned thing where he had found it - on the top shelf of a dusty bookcase in the Library.

Cause he wasn't into romances, never had been.

Sure, big guy, sure! Breklinn had caught him on his way to the Knoll. Ambushed him, more like. The dusker had the eyes of a hawk, and the wit of a shrew. How they had become friends was anyone's guess.

And now here I am, talking boys with another. Smiling, Faramund closed the book and moved it to safety on the bench beside him. 'Depends on which boy you mean,' he replied, seeing off the last of his drink before palming the new.

Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

She shot up, sitting straight, and those amber gold eyes wide. "Um..." She hesitated, her face contorting into various expressions as she wrestled with inner thoughts. Saskia felt so many knots in her stomach, felt her own muscles cramp as a sickening feeling laced it's way up her throat, but instead of sickness, it was a name, blurting past her lips.

"Alaric Wulf." She winced two seconds before she stopped breathing altogether and threw her arms over her head. The young dusker dropped her head to the table with an audible thump, loud enough for someone on the next table to ask: Is she alright?

Kerraelas let out a loud groan, not from the collision of her head and table, but the mortifying truth she was now bringing to attention to herself. It was real! She had asked Faramund for advice on a particular boy.

"I don't know what to do!" The blonde lamented to the table, still hiding her face in a performance of the usual standard of drama the dusker was capable of carrying out. "He kissed me, Fara! ON THE LIPS. Just a big ol' smacker on thine lips!" A hand lazily lifted, shaking left and right as if to help downplay what she had said. "I mean, it was a nice, normal kiss. Or what I know of as normal because, believe it or not Mundy, I have not been kissed before."

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

'That's all?' Laughing, Faramund waved the knights of the neighbouring table away, mimicking the universal sign for too much drink. Turning back to Saskia, the dawnling hunched over a little, unfazed by her ability to draw attention to herself even in the most private of settings. She's young, he allowed, young and in love. So were you, once.

Had he been?

'Well, I s'pose you could do worse,' he grinned, picturing Alaric in his mind. The lad was of equal height to Faramund, toned where he was burly. Handsome, in the traditional sense of the word. Faramund recalled him being a right little shit during their combat training - always knowing best, never accepting help despite getting his arse kicked repeatedly.

Stubborn, and yet stout in his beliefs. A good friend to have.

'Yes, you could do worse.' Faramund continued, pull-pulling Saskia's tankard out of the path of her swinging arms. 'Honestly, I'm surprised you two didn't kiss sooner, the way he's been fawning over you these past... what, three years?' Longer than that, I do say. Grinning, Fara gestured Saskia closer.

'So,' he whispered, sipping at his beer, a conspiratorial glimmer in his eye, 'where do you lovebirds stand currently?'

Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

She lifted her head at the sound of her tankard dragging across the wood, scowled, and snatched it back from the dawnling before her. "Fawning over me? What about when I fancied him two years ago and he had his eye on another girl?!" Saskia snorted and scoffed. She then took a long drink, dropping it back to the table and not fussing at the liquid spilling over the rim. The next table chuckled, seeing now what Faramund had told them, but really, Saskia Kerraelas was like this sober.

"He liked that other girl with the pRetTy EyEs and the pReTty HaIr, and I had to get over it. Told myself not to ruin our friendship! WHICH MAY I REMIND YOU! It has been sixteen years since I have been here and he was the first friend I made! Before I made friends with my shadows! And NOW he changes THIS?!"

Saskia's hand waved around wildly behind her, her grand gestures almost knocking a colleague square in the face, but they swerved and gave the unwitting Saskia a look of incredulity before moving on.

"I... I don't know where we stand, but I told him once we were both home, we could... maybe... just... talk about it and give it a chance. BUT! I do not know if I should give it a chance. What if this ruins things and I am left friendless?!"

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

'Don't be so dramatic!' Faramund reassured her, rolling his eyes. 'You've got plenty of friends. Some of them are even in the room with you,' he grinned, waving to the Knoll at large, recognising faces and remembering names. Sworn knights, a couple of Pursuants, more squires than he could shake a stick at.

They had a habit of ambushing him with questions about his travels, the tall tales surrounding them. Saskia had been like that too, once upon a time. Before she had achieved knighthood. Now, it was her travels she regaled him with.

'This girl, the one Alaric was so keen on, she... uh, still about?' Faramund had enough problems making sense of his own love life to keep up with another's. As for Alaric's...

'Think about it, though! If he still had the hots for some other floozy, would he really have gone with you all the way to Valenntenia? And would he have made the first move when the time came to... y'know?' Watching Saskia closely, he sipped his beer, noting the way her brow knit, how her gaze grew distant, as if she was reliving the moment.

'How was the Ball, by the way? Was it everything it's trumped up to be?'

Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

Trust Faramund to speak reason when her dramatics called for sympathy, but Saskia did not let his obvious evidence of the many friends she had forced her way into within the Order. She had been too busy groaning and regretting coming to speak to Syr Reasonable Pants that she barely caught him asking her about the Valenntenian Ball she was asked to attend to represent the Knights.

"It... it was actually fun. Beautiful city, even when the place wasn't lit up once the sun went down. Alaric bought me my dress and mask." She was the sun and he was the moon, but she decided to keep that to herself for now. "We got an artist to paint us... but that was done after the kiss, and I am sure the artist had to draw smiles on our faces and not the awkward grimace I knew I had on my face."

If only Roki hadn't abandoned them both, she wouldn't be faced with this crossroads with her friendship with Alaric!

"Honestly... despite it all, it was the most fun I have had in a good while. I know big festivals like that is not really Alaric's thing, but... he did all that to make sure I had fun. He even danced with me..." And Alaric loathed to dance, especially after she would have thrown food at him without apology.

This time she hadn't thrown food, and he asked her first...

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

'He danced with you? Well, well, well! Who woulda thought!' If Saskia was waiting for proof of Alaric's affections, she couldn't do any better than that. The boy has two left feet, but he made it work. Somehow. Grinning, the dawnling looked Saskia in the eye.

'I've half a wish to see this painting you speak of,' he continued, emboldened by the way Saskia was all aflutter. Guess this is what love makes of us, he thought, knowing himself for a fool, and a proud one at that.

'But I shall show mercy. This time.' Smiling, he took a pull of his pint, happy to drink something he hadn't paid for. 'So, what's the plan?' He asked, eyebrows aloft. 'Are you going to corner him when he least expects it and force him to pour his heart out to you? Could work. I'll even loan you one of my knives, on the condition I get it back in one piece.'

A jest, that. Or at least he thought it was.

'Come on, Sas, if ever there was a time to act, it's now! Strike while the iron is hot and all that.'

Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

"Corner him?!"

Saskia whispered aloud.

Of course, it was only right that Faramund suggested that after he knew her well. He had watched he grow the past decade, had watched as she had always been unafraid to confront and take action.

But he underestimated her resolve when it came to the romantic aspect of cornering someone.

"Strike while the iron is— have you struck while the iron was hot, Syr Mund?" Like a young child, she scowled, crossing her arms as she stared at him grumpily. Saskia only reacted this way because of the truth in which he spoke with, but it was her own lack of surety that made her defiant.

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

'Once or twice.' He grinned. 'Don't think you can wheedle your way out of this one, Sas! Either you take your feelings to him or I will!' It was an empty threat, true, but she didn't need to know that. Leaning in, he looked the dusker in the eye. Her stubbornness amused Faramund, as it always did.

The more she tried to pretend, the bigger his grin grew. The upturned chin was a nice touch.

And the folded arms! Perfection. 'Okay, look! How about, instead of mean-mugging me, you take some of that energy and turn it on Alaric? The lad's bound to confess all if you do that! Hells. From what you've been telling me, he's sure as shit done that already.' Laughing, the dawnling discarded his words with a lazy wave of his hand.

'Or don't. The choice is yours, lass. Just...' He paused, searching for the right thing to say. 'Make sure you don't let this opportunity pass you by, okay? Life is tough at the best of times. No need to fill it with regret. Otherwise, you end up like me...' His grin faltered for a second before coming back full force. 'Bitter and resentful.'

Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

Saskia scowled, staring at Faramund as she slowly went to drink and contemplate his words of which he spoke truthfully and fairly. In her eyes, she had sought him out as a way to gather whether or not this was a good idea, but she knew he would either not care, or encourage her.

The way he had reassured her in the halls of Dunhold resonated with her still, and Saskia had to know that Faramund had always been family to her. He always had time to humour her, and hells, he was the one that wouldn't rat her out with her pranks on other squires or Sworn.

"I am not going to ask you about what has you bitter and resentful, because I know you would need another drink for that... but, with Alaric... what if things don't go well?" Saskia's thumbs began to fiddle with the handle to her tankard.

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

Faramund pondered the question for a moment. 'What if they do?' Drinking up, he put aside his beer, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he took the time to study Saskia closely. 'It's unlike you to lack for courage, lass, particularly when it comes to showing who's boss.' The dawnling smiled, looked away.

'What's the point of contemplating something that'll never come to pass?'

Letting his words linger, he watched the Knoll around them. Sworn and squire, friend and occasional foe. A family, bound by solemn oath if not blood. The young woman sitting across from Faramund had always been foremost in his affections. Then, there was the likes of Bebin, Helena, Jarro, Cydonia, Aarno and... 'Linda.'

Grimacing, Faramund closed his eyes as their faces flashed across his mind's eye, each in turn, each souring his mood further.

When next they opened, he was back to his usual, cheerful self. 'Take the risk, Saskia,' he said, his voice deep, powerful. 'Love. Be happy. And stop bothering old fools like me when they're trying to read. Doesn't do anyone any good.'

Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

Saskia narrowed her gaze at him, wondering who this Linda might be. Last night's company? The dusker crinkled her nose at the thought, before frowning down at tankard and fidgeted with the pewter lid. Her eyes snapped back to Faramund, now giving her that smile she knew well, and gave the effect of eliciting a small smile from Kerraelas.

"Well, you said to me that if I feel like I am ever making a mistake, to just go see you and ask your advice. Remember?" She left out the part that himself and many other Sworn were drunk off their socks after celebrating Syr Monroe's birthday last year. Even Sas knew it wasn't her true birthday, and that they came to that conclusion for celebration after they had gotten drunk.

"Besides, Fara. Since when did you read?" Saskia snorted.

Faramund

 

[Faramund]

'Since a certain sister of ours took the time to teach me,' replied Faramund, scratching his beard with one hand as he turned the page with the other. 'And, no, I don't remember! Guess I'll just have to take your word for it.' Smiling, he let the conversation simmer a moment.

'There's a lot you don't know about me, Saskia,' he said, something about her words keeping him from letting the matter rest. 'I...'

Blinking, the dawnling sighed, shook his head. 'Never mind.' Earmarking the page he was on, Faramund closed the book he was reading. "The Trials and Tribulations of a Questing Knight," the scrawling title read. An autobiography, penned by one Syr Tomlin of Dusk. Long dead, if the yellowing parchment was anything to go.

'Here!' Faramund passed the leather-bound book to Saskia. 'Some advice worth listening to.'

Seeing off his beer, Faramund made to stand. The world wobbled slightly as he stepped clear of the bench, his deadened legs protesting fiercely. 'Shit!' He cursed, pins and needles arcing through his flesh.

Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

Saskia frowned at the book, looking very bored of it already, but a smug smile awakened on her face as she saw and heard Faramund complain about his imbalance. Surely his tolerance for drinks was greater than the drink she provided? Or was that his undoing? She turned her head to face him, brows furrowing.

"So... I tell Alaric we should give it a shot..." Hearing herself say it, and calmly at that, made her tilt her head to one side. It sounded so simple, so easy.

"Right." She stood up, a little more gracefully than Syr Mund. "I think I shall attempt to peruse your book and find Alaric." She tapped his shoulder with the book, trying her best not to put too much force on it as she did.

She didn't want to be responsible for the old man falling.

Karken

 

[Faramund]

Rubbing some life back into his legs, the old wolf nodded. 'You do that,' he said, stepping outside. The sun wise high in the sky. Midday, or there about. Nodding again, Faramund gestured at the book in Saskia's hand. 'It's a good read. Can't say I ever knew the guy, but he sure knew his stuff.'

The life of a knight of Anathaeum was never easy. Saskia was young, and in some ways naïve. But she was smart, smart enough to ask for advice or to seek help from others when struck by uncertainty.

'Plenty of illustrations, too!' Smiling warmly, Faramund gave Saskia's shoulder a gentle squeeze. The gesture mirrored the warmth in his eyes. Brown, flecked with gold. 'Go get 'im, Sas, and... uh, thanks for the pint.' Letting go of the dusker's shoulder, Fara strolled away down the slope.

Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

Saskia watched him a moment after following him out. Frown still on her face, she looked at the book again.

Remembered his words with a troubled expression.

"Wait! Illustrations or illustrations?"