Fate - First Reply The Price of Business

[Gylfi Runarsson]

The wild punch, having found nothing but air, suddenly changed directions. He swung his arm like a club in the direction of the noise amidst the sudden quiet, his fingers still curled into a tight ball.

It was a fortunate thing for Gylfi that the magic was only a flash and not something more lethal, for he'd been unprotected and unprepared for such a feat. The boy thought it to be a petty trick, but one that was highly effective. He was temporarily blinded, and even attempting to open his eyes caused severe pain and discomfort.

Whether his wide swing connected or not, the Norden was resolved to chase Alric down until the Sidhe was once again within his grasp. As if the comparison wasn't sound enough before, Gylfi truly did seem to be like a wild animal with the instinctive method in trying to best his opponent.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

Alric, unlike his opponent, could see, and could see - and to a certain degree, predict - the change in course that was coming. There was no way to avoid the blow, or at least no way to avoid all of it. The problem was that despite the fact that he did not appear to be doing anything, he was doing something. Every second that went by added to the strain being put on mind and body.

To defend would detract from the attention being placed elsewhere. Getting hit would have the same effect, though, and so he conceded silently in his head that the gambit would probably not pay off as he was hoping it would. Fast as thought itself, the young man quickly welded a mishmash of elemental threads together, creating a shield of air between himself and the incoming fist. Is was inelegant and unlovely to look upon, but aside from his sister, there were none that could see it.

High overhead, a juggernaut that had been but barely constrained suddenly found the chains binding it shattered.

The blow struck, savage as he was expecting it to be. The shield shattered into a million glittering shards of magic, visible to the naked eye as green and yellow sparks. The barrier proved effective at not allowing Gylfi's fist to actually directly connect with Alric, but Alric lurched sideways with a strangled grunt all the same, landing maladroitly on the ground, only just getting to his knees as the juggernaut - a wall of water fifteen feet in diameter at least - hammered down on Gylfi.

There was no time to react for the Sidhe, either, as the water struck the ground in a muddy, frothing mess, and sent the young heir to the House rolling backwards in the flood as if he were nothing but flotsam. The stream only lasted a few moments, but water was a very powerful thing to deal with.

Lyssia threw Alicia back and slammed the door shut to the manor just in time to avoid the deluge herself.

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

The back of Gylfi's fist and forearm stung as his wild swing collided with something clearly not flesh. It was like breaking through glass, though no glass the boy ever smashed was this strong.

He followed the sound Alric made as he fell in the mud and cocked a fist back. Before he could throw the punch down at his opponent, a wave of dread loomed over him. Something changed. Gylfi’s instincts screamed danger to him.

Replacing the dread he felt was the force of an unfathomable amount of water. It fell on his head and shoulders, the sudden impact dazing him, almost knocking him unconscious. He was flattened between the wall of water and muddy earth, and as Alric was washed away, Gylfi stayed.

The air was knocked from his lungs, and in the few moments that the water raged, it rendered Gylfi combat ineffective.

He laid there in the mud, groaning and nose burning. At the very least, his vision began to return, though his eyes watered to no end as he squinted through the light of day.

Rain once again fell on everyone present.

Several moments passed before Gylfi pushed himself up to his knees.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

"That is enough!"

The fiery eyed girl stood in the open door with her fists on her hips, ignoring the muddy water dripping from the door frame she was standing under. She radiated fury that might have been intimidating if it had been coming from someone that wasn't even four feet tall. She gave both of the men withering glares that went on just long enough to be uncomfortable.

"I expected to hire a guard, not watch a pair of grown men roll in the mud," she said finally with a generous helping of disdain. Alric was picking himself up from a shrub that he had been washed into, straightening his clothes and looking at his sister darkly. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off ruthlessly.

"You had to let your pride swallow your brain, didn't you," she snapped at him. She cast an unkind glare at the mercenary. With a snort of exasperation, she whirled about, skirts flying, and slammed the door behind her. Alicia looked at the door for a moment, then started making her way across the yard toward Alric.

"See to the man," he said irritable, taking his shirt off and wringing the water out of it. "I have no need."

She sniffed at him meaningfully, and then turned a questioning eye to the hulking Norden. "Well?"

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

Gylfi was still in the process of catching his breath when the small girl burst out and began yelling at her brother. The Norden flinched when she cast that pointed glare his direction.

He pressed his fingers into his eyes; they were still sensitive to the light and he had to squint to see, but even then they still watered as he tested the extent to which he could open his eyes.

"Well?" Alicia asked from the porch.

Back in Indeholm, Gylfi has three younger sisters and traveled for a long time with Brenna Ardullsson- both of which made him particularly tame when faced with strong-willed women. The way Lyssia had snapped at the pair of men and especially her piercing glare mellowed the young man.

He dismissively waved a hand in the air. All he needed was time to catch his breath and let his vision completely return.

"I am well," for the first time, his tone lacked any hostility. Instead, he just seemed tired. Gylfi looked to Alric while thoughts of Maude and his father came to him.

"My temper is... difficult, this I know. I can protect your sister." Again, he thought of Brenna.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

Alric did not say anything for a long while, his eyes hooded and his thoughts as veiled as the sky overhead. The rain had resumed as soon as the spell holding it had broken, and it had not lessened in the slightest. Thunder rolled across the heavens, lightning dancing within the clouds.

The other woman spun and entered the house - a touch more calmly than the first - and left the pair of men to themselves.

"Can you?" The words lacked any malice or anger. They were deadly serious, and were mirrored by the look on the young Sidhe's face. "You appear to be unaccustomed to the way of the city - no offense - and do not understand exactly how dangerous this job will be. For you, and for her." He cast a look at the manor, and shook his head. "She doesn't, either."

He turned, and started for the doorway. "Some danger is obvious, and some is not. Come, let us go where it is dry and discuss. I am undecided, but you should be made fully aware of what it is you face."

There was a room off the main entry, one where the servants sometimes gathered to take their ease. It would be an ideal place, considering their state of attire and the weather, to have such a discussion.

===

She was furious.

It was an unfamiliar emotion to the girl, a surge of hormones that made her want to snap at any and all that came near. Damn him, damn him, thrice damn him! Did he still think her a child? Did he think himself a mature man?

Did either of them really understand what it was that they were getting themselves into? She thought that she did, sometimes, but then a display such as the one in the yard would make her question. It was not some childish game that they played at. The consequences were real, and could end their lives if they played at the 'game' poorly.

And then that man will die, and all of our retainers. Their families. Every person that lent aid to us, all swept up and washed away by the uncaring hands of tyrants. The same ones that had killed her parents, and dozens of her friends. Directly or indirectly hardly mattered anymore; the deed had been done and the damage that had been done was irreparable.

She clenched fists hard enough that it hurt, and went back to the office she had been in before. It was not really hers or her brothers'; either of them used it for whatever purpose was needed at a given time. She closed the door, and then leaned again it and put her face into her hands. It was not to weep, but to let out a frustrated sigh, and look up to the empty chair behind a nearly empty desk.

We will do you proud, Father. Well will take what was stolen from us, Mother. They had no other choice. Pride was one thing, but honor another altogether else. The one was a sin, the other paramount. They had to restore the honor of D'avore, and reclaim their rightful place.

Or die trying.

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

"Dangerous," he placed a hand on his knee as he rose and grunted. Those that would seek to harm his ward would come to find out that they too were unaware of the dangers associated with their job as well. Gylfi's concern was with the less obvious dangers, though. The young man moved to retrieve his sword.

Without any grumbling, he followed Alric. The small man completely earned Gylfi's respect. He appreciated a man that would stand up for himself, even if only to protect his own sinful pride. As they entered the manor, Gylfi shook his head, flinging water all over the place. It seems the first trail of water he left behind him had already been cleaned, and the pair of men would leave another for the servants to tend to.

Gylfi leaned against the wall and folded his arms. Despite his appearance and attitude, he was quick to catch on to things and would attentively listen to Alric. He continued the conversation from outside.

"Transparency is," he pondered over finding the right word, "appreciated. What is it I must know?"

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

The few members of the staff to bother them quickly left when they found Alric in their break area, shirt dark with water and a puddle beneath him and the mercenary. The room was chill, but the Sidhe seemed not to notice it. Outside, the storm raged on.

Alric leaned back in the simple chair, and looked Gylfi in the eyes. He seemed to be deciding just how much he should tell the man, what was important and what was of no need for him to know. The youth had been trained to be a courtier, to wend through subtle political currents that were not obvious. Every bit of information was precious and possibly dangerous in the wrong hands, and revealing your hand too early just as dangerous.

But this was not the courts. This was the streets, and for all that he had surrounded himself once more with the trappings of power if not the actual power itself, the rules were different.

"Dangerous," he said slowly, cautiously. There was almost no chance that this man was an agent the House Farron. But it was almost no chance. Some risks had to be taken. "There are very powerful people in this city who want House D'avore to become a memory and nothing more," he began.

"They have nearly succeeded in that, brother," came Lyssia's voice from the doorway. She spoke softly, but her face was hard. Some of the anger from before was still there, and it was clear that her face was unaccustomed to the expressions. "They killed Mother and Father, they killed half of the household. We are all that is left," she added coldly.

Alric regarded his sister with some interest, and looked away.

"Yes, well," he managed. "They do not think that we are a threat to whatever machinations they intended in the first place. The Duke stood in their way, and so they schemed to undermine him." Schemed successfully, as it turned out. "I am not going to go away quietly into the night and leave them to their game," he said fiercely.

"We," Lyssia added in a cold voice. "Brother, we will not fade away." For her part, it was the galling way she was dismissed by absolutely everyone. Her brother thought she incapable of handling herself, and their enemies just left her to her own devices as if it didn't matter in the slightest. She turned hard eyes on the towering man and felt anger grow. This fellow thought of her as a child, just like her brother and everyone else. Thought her just a nuisance to get in the way and cause problems.

Enough.

"Lyssia..." He started, and she shook her head angrily. "We're family. We're all that are left. I am not going to be pushed off to the side and forgotten like some...like some trinket, stuffed in a box and left behind!" She turned to Gylfi. "I won't be treated like porcelain, and I won't be held back from doing my part to...to..."

"To what, sister? To what end do you work towards?" Alric seemed cautiously curious about her answer. Nto at all dismissive of her, as he would normally be.

"To take back what was stolen from us," she replied coldly. To exact vengeance for what was stolen from us, she added mentally. There was no recovering what had been taken, only the material aspects. Other things could only be paid for with blood.

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

Gylfi remained postured against the wall, impressively honed arms folded across an equally impressive chest. He was silent as Alric began to explain, and silent still when the siblings spoke between each other. From what was said, the young man could somewhat understand the situation they were in or at least the fact that the odds were stacked against them—small folk faced with a colossal foe, both literally and otherwise. But, as Gylfi's father had always said, it was good to be underestimated.

One could simply look back at the duel that took place just minutes ago to validate that idea.

The discussion became tense, the younger rising to challenge the older, or to assert herself. Gylfi understood. It was something he saw countless times.

What truly snatched the Nordenfiir's attention was when Lyssia turned to address him. He met her defiant gaze with a fierce one of his own.

The girl speaks strong, Gylfi mused. But, there was one thing that did not sit well within him.

The girl's attitude which he saw as undue confidence. It bordered on arrogance.

"To take back what was once yours," he gruffly echoed. What Lyssia added on mentally, Gylfi was able to understand through her body language. The girl became emotional, raw.

"Have you killed?" he pushed off the wall and, in a single step, closed the distance between them. "Drawn blood from another person, fought with your life on the line? Could you kill? Not in self-defense, but coldly- ruthlessly?"

A low growl lingered behind every spoken word.

"To take a life-" primal yellow eyes stabbed into the small girl, "- is not a mere trifle."

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

"I will do what I have to," she challenged him back. The faint light in her eyes flared for a moment before fading to dull luminescence again. She did not look to Alric, which was just as well. Her brother stared at her with a mixture of emotions running across his face, although he was trying to keep it schooled to stillness. "If I have to kill someone, I can do it," she lied.

She could remember watching a man die, and being sickened by it. She had not held the knife then, but she had been through a lot since then. She could do it now, if she had to. She was certain of it.

"You do not know of what you speak, Lyssia. Fighting - killing - is not a thing flippantly done. You have seen nightmares on the street, but you are not ready to do this thing." Her brother spoke, and it was in the cold and flat tone of voice of someone who did not think she had it in her. He, obviously, had killed people - many people, in fact, in order to get as far as he had. The manor had been paid for in blood, and everything else they did as well. When you were kicked to the curb, there was no other way than to claw your way back.

Damn anyone who got in the way.

"You do not know me!" Her head snapped between the two of them. "You abandoned me to the streets while you played your game," she accused Alric, and then shifted that malevolent gaze to Gylfi. "And you, you do not know me at all! Is it because I am a woman? Is it because I am young, or small?" She held a hand up, and a feeble flame flickered into existence over her open palm. She could feel the glowing heat of it as it danced there, the magic that made it flowing from her blood. "There is much neither of you know about me," she snapped.

But inside she was afraid. Afraid that they might be right, and that she might not be able to do this thing. She had not choice but to see the path she had set for herself to its end, no matter where that was...but it did not make her any less terrified of the things she would have to do to achieve those ends.

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

Gylfi was none too impressed by the yelping pup in front of him. He did not underestimate her because she was born a woman; he knew women that were more fierce than any man. Nor did he underestimate her because of size, for he’s been bested by those several heads smaller than himself.

He underestimated the girl because of her defiant act- how she tried to speak her certainty into existence. Gylfi found that it was one thing to say, and another entirely to do. He watched the flame flicker in her palm; it was the only light in the room.

Perhaps there was some meaning in that. A flame, however small and feeble, did burn within the girl. That was enough.

Gylfi looked at Alric, “What does she need a guard for? She could kill with her mere glare.”

He knelt to meet the girl’s gaze, his expression serious. Out of respect for Lyssia, he would seek her approval over her brother’s.

“There are things you can protect yourself from, and things you can not. I am here for the latter.”

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

The girl practically bristled at the perception of a patronizing tone, ignoring the scowl on her brother's face (which was there for an entirely different reason). She drew herself up so she could command every inch of height she had, facing the would-be body guard with icicles in her eyes.

And was shocked when the man deferred to her, dropping down so that their eyes could meet. Pale amethyst orbs, glowing with a faint inner light, widened ever so slightly. Whatever protest she'd had, they died unspoken. Instead, she settled back, at a loss for a moment.

"Yes," she said uncertainly. "Well."

Alric snorted, but did not say anything aloud.

Lyssia could not think of a proper response to the statement, because she knew it was true. Or wrong. She was not a warrior and never had been; she was too young for one, and for another had not had anything like formal training on the subject. The things she was trained for were all those things of the courts.

"I cannot argue with that," she said finally. "I just do not want to be held back from things because those things are dangerous." This with a pointed look at Alric. Her brother's eyes were unfathomable. "I am not porcelain, and I do not need to be coddled."

For his response, Alric simply turned and left the room without a word. Lyssia watched him go, a sense of dissatisfaction growing in her. She shook her head, and looked to Gylfi.

"You can fight, but how do you do against enemies unseen?"

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

The young man kept his gaze trained on Lyssia, even when her brother left the room. He'd wondered just how much the two went through, together and separate. And, how exactly would he fare against enemies that would not make themselves obvious? He was no stranger to a cunning foe, human or not, but to be particularly wary of a knife in the shadows? To constantly look over his shoulder?

It was no different than being stalked by a pack of wolves, or whatever worse the tundra had to offer. Perhaps it could be arrogance, but men did not strike fear into him as beasts did.

"I will manage." Gylfi moved from his kneeling position and sat on the floor, his legs crossed. The wild, animalistic side of him was mostly tamed from the fight.

"My nose is keen," he admitted, "if it is an unseen enemy, I will smell them before I see them."

Or so he hoped.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

She said nothing for a painfully long moment. There was only so much trust she could give another, especially someone who worked for whoever paid the most. It was unfair of her to think of this man so, having known him only an hour and only minutes out of that time. Perhaps some of the naivety of youth had burned away already, and the makings of a cynical woman had already begun.

"Let us hope it is not necessary,then," she replied. She had as much hope of a peaceful life as a soldier in a war-torn country did, and for much the same reason. "Let us leave the servants quarters, though. There are things that must be discussed." She struggled to wrap the self possession she remembered her mother cloaking herself with whenever she had ever been even remotely in public. It looked odd when she tried it, but she did not care.

She gestured for the door, then led the way back to the main stairs,heading back towards the receiving room she had greeted him in before.

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

“Hope for the best,” Gylfi mused aloud, his words a low grumble, “prepare for the worst.”

He followed the woman through the manor. His long strides would be followed by awkward stuttering steps to prevent him from treading over the much shorter girl. Trying to match his pace to hers was difficult and would have to be something that he learned over time.

They entered the office and Gylfi leaned against a piece of furniture. He was still wet, but at least stopped dripping.

“What must be discussed?” He asked, yellow eyes tracking Lyssia.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

She rounded the desk and sat down, spent s little time adjusting her skirts. And some time composing her thoughts.

She was not accustomed to dealing with 'outsiders', people not members of the Household proper. This man was not a member, yet, and would not become one so easily as by simply being hired. Her trust bad been bruised several times in the last years. She did not know how much she could trust this man.

Some risks, though, had to be taken. But she had to proceed with care. "There is more to this than trying to make a place for ourselves," she said, eyes steady on his. "The place us already made, but it was taken from us. We want it back."

She watched his face,trying to judge his reaction.

"When Alric said it was dangerous, he may have...underplayed it. The powers in this city might stand in our way, and take exception to our return."

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

Gylfi's brows knit together as several questions raced through his mind, the most curious of them all being the reason behind the city's powers wanting the girl's family to vanish. A question for another time. The man didn't have a single coin to his name, and in the Summerlands this meant that he would struggle to make it anywhere. This job was the best paying of those he found around the small towns he'd been through so far, or at least he thought so.

"Dangers, I am used to them." He folded his arms across his chest. Gylfi knew and cared little for politics. These people desired to return to their status of old and to punish those that forced them to the streets- it was something Gylfi could understand to a point, taking back something stolen from you.

"So, what would you do against the powers in this city?"

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

The girl leaned back in her seat and pressed at her temples with thumb and forefinger. The direct way this makes questioned things was not something she was completely unaccustomed to, but neither was she comfortable with it. The things she had been taught were all of sleight of hand and tongue; to speak around points, questions, and to answer things without being blunt.

This man was blunt. Everything about him screamed of curt words and swift actions.

She nevertheless considered the question for all its merits. "Directly challenging all of that wealth and power is suicide," she said slowly and without much inflection. She dropped her hand back into her lap. "The only avenues of attack left to us are finance and Mercantile contracts. We cannot - and will not - assassinate people, so we must bleed their coffers."

She, of course, would not ever rule out killing someone in the night. The idea of ending a life [blank eyes devoid of life, slack mouth open wide with the last gasping breath] was something distant, impersonal. She had never taken a life, but she had seen it done. If it had to be done, it would be done.

"They are aware of my brother and I," she said. There was a thrill of fear, there, at the notion. "We are inconsequential, or so they think...but we will prove them wrong."

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

Gylfi nodded along. Blunt and straightforward- he was both. However, even he knew that facing an entire city in a blunt and straightforward manner as he would prefer would be a foolish endeavor. While he had little understanding of finances and mercantile contracts, what he did understand was taking a roundabout and smart approach to undermine the foe's authority being their best chance.

He also understood his purpose. If they meant to subtly attack the financial stability of their enemies, of course they wouldn't allow the siblings to do so freely. Thus, a guard was necessary. A big, scary-looking guard.

"To be underestimated is a benefit, one that, with proper consideration, can be exploited to a great effect." Again, the wisdom of his father came to him. They were a small pair, the siblings, but carried with them ambition and wit. Dangerous traits to ignore.

"If it is protecting your life," he absently looked at the window. Rain pattered against it. "I am capable of this much, at least."