The Readiness Is All [Thyrian]

[Théodred Heavenshield]

Northmark - Fafnersvik

There is only so much thinking a person can do before his mind calls it a day. And there had been plenty to think about, especially with the more recent events in his life and for the others as well. Midvinter would not be the same again, let along for the family and at times there was simply too much to process. Belief systems shattered, for some, reaffirmed for others, but regardless of where one stood on that score it was a journey they would have to take personally, and alone with their own hearts and minds.

Although the Sun had dipped down below the far horizon, a soft salmon radiant light filled the heavy clouds but even that would soon vanish and the dark of night would set in, the first drops rain began to fall and among them the smallest of snowflakes swirled in the breeze, almost invisible to the eye, soon enough the rain would turn to ice and sit softly on the ground. And as his horse turned toward the village of Fafnersvik, Théo recalled the day in which he had last been here. He was but a young boy, riding on the back of a cart as the Silver Jedi and his family came to face the Vinterbound. It was the first sign of things to come on that day, but that seemed like a life time ago now.

Yellow light shone from the windows of the houses, the scent of burning wood as hearths roared with the flames of life giving force and he was never so pleased to enter the village, same for his mount, who's head lolled with fatigue, Théo leaned forward almost stumbling in the process but laid a reassuring hand on the station's neck. But soon the hanging sign of the Inn could be heard swinging in the breeze, squeaking with a need of oil, the ground around becoming sodden with rain but neither of horse and rider cared about it. A nice warm stable and a bundle of hay and a big bowl of stew, a tankard filled with mead and a nice warm bed was all that was on their minds at this point.

Why his uncle had called for him to come to Fafnersvik long departed his thoughts.

Théo fell heavy into a seat at a small table, he paid little attention to the Inns inhabitants although they were loud and boisterous, some where snoring with drunken heads planted to the table top, but the smell of food and mead clung to the air and made his stomach growl in protest. "You don't look to from around here", came a voice from the Inn keeper, "What can I get ya? .. mister?". Even after all these years the villagers are still mighty suspicious of strangers. Théo knew that to speak his name, his surname would dispel any concerns but it would also bring on unwanted attention, "Théo .. Vhalorious", he used a name he had taken on when in his journey of grief, he looked up into the man's face. "I want a full bowl stew, mead and a bed for the night and make sure your stable boy see to my horse". He thumped his back into the seat as life started to come back to his body with the warmth of hearth.

In other parts of the Inn, his presence had not gone unnoticed. There were several sets of eyes on him, some looked upon him in curiosity, others with a less noble intent, but another who eyes seemed to bore into this very soul. A slight grin flicked at his lips, but before him was placed a large bowl of hot stew, bread and mead, and that was all that gained his attention as he fell on with all with gusto.

[member="Thyrian Hearthfire"]​

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

Thyrian had arrived long before his nephew did, sitting at the back of the tavern in the corner observing the weary souls entering and leaving. It was a small town where everyone seemed to know everyone, but not him; he'd kept his identity a secret since his arrival, dressed entirely in black. The weather had been as loathsome as could be riding into town, and his hooded cloak had yet to dry. It mattered none to him, sat enjoying a good pipe of fine weed by the window with but a lone candle to illuminate his surroundings. A jug of mead sat half-full on the small table, in spite of its contents having no effect on him; his 'condition' did not allow him to become drunk, so he had instead taken to pipeweed in order to achieve a semblance of peace of mind. It was not an addiction by any means, merely something to take his mind off things.

And there had been plenty of things to trouble him lately.

By the time [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] entered the inn he caused many a patrons to turn their heads, for they knew him to be a stranger to their town. They'd done the same when Thyrian entered hours earlier, but he did not pay them any mind and quietly ordered his drink and took position by the window overlooking the entrance. No-one had thought to pester him, be it due to not caring or because his presence instilled fear. It was all the same to him - he much enjoyed the anonymity for once, and he was not here to make friends, after all. Save for the one, of course.

Watching Théo order his drink at the bar and take his seat, Thyrian remained in his corner of the room. A subtle gesture to the barkeep would have the man approach his nephew's table with another jug of mead once Théo had emptied his first. "Courtesy of the darkly-clad man in the corner," he spoke in hushed voice for his ears only before nodding Thyrian's way.

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=chLZQtCold8​

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After a few moments, his stomach filled with food and mead was more satisfied and allow him a pause to take in his surroundings. However he did not stop eating, but with each mouthful, his blue eyes darted between tables and those that sat at the bar. Most paid him no heed, having returned to their own company and stories of great victories as the mead flowed and fueled their poetic licence with the truth of it.

But as his focus turned from the plate in front of him, the presence of his uncle fired through the force and at that moment the bar keep returned with another tankard of mead, informing him that it was compliments of a man in corner. Théo gave the Keep a nod of appreciation for the bringing of it before he left him to it. But the gesture did not go unnoticed by four men at the end of the bar whispering among themselves, and their intent was obvious through the alert in the force.

Théo hoped it would come to nothing, maybe angry drunks and nothing more, and probably best to ignore them. So Théo stood up, took hold of his tankard all ready to join his uncle in the skulky dark corner. He had only taken a few steps in his direction when a shift in the force warned him of danger, it was almost in slow motion, he turned his head and his body, at the same time unsheathed his sword before cutting down a flying dagger cutting through the air but the mark was not Théo, but his uncle.

"Assassin!", came a cry from somewhere in the room, and all eyes lifted to look directly at Théo. "Who? ... me!?", he looked around incredulously before laughing. The four men had slide off their stools, turned to confront Théo, one of them held a air of doubt in his face, unsure of how someone could cut down a dagger in mid flight so easy, that was an impossible thing to do surely? But he was looking at the true assassins, eyeing them most deliberately because they were neither drunk or tired and their was a purpose to them being here at this appointed time.

"Don't make me spill any more of my mead, I will not be happy". Théo placed it on the nearest table .. for later.

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[member="Thyrian Hearthfire"]​

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

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Things took a turn for the worse when his nephew was seemingly made victim of an assassination attempt, as a dagger was drawn and thrown only to be easily deflected by Théo's Jedi training. Given his heritage, it was no wonder he was a force to be reckoned with. Still, Thyrian took the deliberate attack on his extended family personal and promptly set his pipe down on the table after one last inhale. With the unlucky sods all focused on their target, he quietly got up from his seat and proceeded to empty his tankard of mead. Weighing the emptied jug in his hand, he then threw the metal container at the closest one, completely blindsiding him and knocking him to his feet.

"Pick on someone your own size," he snarled at the goons still standing. Unfortunately for the three, they did not back down but rather launched themselves into a frenzy, two of them rushing the dark-clad stranger with loud cries of war. At this point the entire place went livid, as random people began pummeling one another with reckless abandon seemingly without a reason to. Chairs were thrown and tables were crushed under the weight of bodies being tossed around, and amidst it all were Thyrian and Théo fending off assassins and tavern patrons alike.

Smashing the head of one of the goons into the bar table, making more than a couple teeth shatter, he then proceeded to drag him along the table and over the edge, letting him fall to the ground defenseless. As he did, however, an old woman had grabbed a nearby bottle and smacked him over the head with it so hard it shattered. Thyrian stumbled and turned her way with a look of confusion on his face, clutching the top of his head. "Oww," he cried out in disbelief before throwing a punch at her in response, sending her flying into a group of people. "Fething hell, that hurt!" Rubbing his bruised head, he looked to find Théo somewhere in the chaos.

There was no grace or dignity to the complete brawl, as men and women wrecked the place from top to bottom using any methods imaginable. Biting, clawing, grappling, punching... Anything that fit the situation. No reputable inn or tavern on Midvinter did not boast they saw the greatest bar fights take place, after all! All throughout the brawl the innkeep simply kept to his duties, wiping the bar of spilled blood or doing the dishes off to the side.

"Théodred? Are you in there," he leaned down to ask the bottom of a large pile of bodies throwing themselves on top. Casually Thyrian began digging into the pile, tossing aside people left and right like they were nothing. Rather than keep doing this until he found his nephew, he instead stepped back and proceeded to summon the Force to lift the mass of bodies up into the air and send them flying out the door and onto the street. After that it seemed they were no longer inclined to resume the fight, as people slowly began picking themselves up and painstakingly go their separate ways with more than a few new bruises.

"Théo?"

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

In the blink of an eye complete and utter mayhem broke loose. The table on which Théo had sat his tankard was over turned and he was not happy about that, a fist hit the man far in the face for spilling his mead and he landed with a thud on his back in the middle of the Inn. These would be assassins that had come here with the sole purpose of regicide sent up their war cry with swords brandished, if they lived, they would be questioned later but for now they needed to be nullified. The man in the hood get up saw to one of them as a flying tankard smashed against the assassins head dropping him to the floor.

An all in brawl is not the best place to brandish a sword, difficult for leg room and a swinging sword can collect more than the intended target, but in the ensuing chaos Théo did not care. Metal hit metal, the third of the assassins curling his lips into a snarl not happy about Théo intervening in their mission. Théo slide his sword blade along the other until the cross of the hilts clashed and he stepped forward closing the gap between them, only to head but the man so hard it broke his nose and blood spat all over his face. The assassin stumbled back in pain and holding his nose.

A sharp pain in Théo's back ran through his body as a table smack into him, causing him to fall forward to the floor among the broken glass, shattered wood and bodies. He pulled himself up onto all fours, shaking his head to clear his mind when the last of the assassins fell upon him with flying fists, the wrestling was on. Both men grabbing at each other to gain the advantage. A hard fist slammed into his jaw, which was repaid immediately, and with a hit furled by the force the assassin was out cold.

He wiped the side of his mouth of the blood oozing from a cut on his lip, his cheeks red with forming bruises and his shoulders ached from the table attack. He stood up only to tumble unbalanced as his head reeled with stars before his eyes and lightheadedness. He tripped and fell once more over one of the many bodies groaning and unable to move, only to crawl his way to the bar in order to grab hold of something to help him stand. As he did, another man fueled to the brim with mead and as strong as an oxen barreled into him with a shoulder charge to the gut, knocking the wind out of Théo's lungs. The oxen man lifted him off the ground and threw Théo over the bar and he fell to the floor. He lay there stunned, blood in his eyes blurring his vision, a shaking hand reached for anything to grab hold off but he could not. And everything around him went black.

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[member="Thyrian Hearthfire"]​

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

No Théo to be found under the people pile, much to his disappointment, although he did clear the tavern of brawlers and patrons so that's a plus. The place was a complete mess, with hardly a single piece of furniture still intact. Splatters of blood, missing teeth, and ripped pieces of cloth were all scattered about at random. Only place left to check was behind the bar, and sure enough there lay his nephew looking worse for wear. Rather than help Théo back on his feet Thyrian slumped down to lay beside him on the floor, panting and groaning from the intense brawl.

"You alright, lad?" he asked through his panting, turning his head to the side to get a look at him. "You look terrible, you know that?" He managed a few chuckles before clutching his head again. "Odiir's arse, that old bat...! Who clobbers someone with a bottle square in the head when he's not looking? Honestly..."

He adjusted his stance a bit to make himself more comfortable. Reaching up he blindly grabbed the closest bottle of strong drink and stuck the cork between his teeth and yanked it, uncorking it. Without even checking to see just what he'd gotten his hands on he took a swig of it to wet his parched throat. "It's times like these I wish I could get drunk," he said before offering Théo the bottle in case he wanted a drink. "Once, in another life, I would not feel any pain what-so-ever. Now it's quite the opposite. Can't even dull the pain," he mused out loud while putting one arm behind his head to rest upon.

Looking over at his nephew once more, he gave him a soft pat on the shoulder. "You are your father's son," Thyrian told him with the utmost sincerity. "You may have your mother's looks, but you have his heart."

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

Sparks of reality began to come back to Théo, when he started to hear what could only be described as some lumbering bear groaning, panting and shifting near by, at least to his mind that is what it was. The pain in his shoulders kicked in first as his body lay pressed to the floor boards, but when words pierced his mind, he opened his eyes with blurred vision, did he remember where he was, and what had happened. And he joined his uncle in the groaning, panting and shifting. He could not answer him at first, instead he too began to chuckle which also hurt but he was more intent on listening to his uncle, as Théo believed this was the most that his uncle had ever spoken to him in all these years.

"I look about as pretty as you do", he grinned which only hurt his bruises on his cheeks, Théo reached for his face moving his jaw to check if broken. Théo pulled himself up with a long protracted groan to sitting position and took the bottle offered and emptied most of the contents down his throat in one go. Whatever it was burned like hell but once inside him, dulled the pain greatly. "Thank you uncle your words mean a lot to me", to be considered like his father was more than a compliment to Théo.

"Regardless of what happened on Midvinter some weeks back, I know now that we never really lost him", referring to his grandpapa, "He was right here in you". And he placed his hand over Thyrian's heart, even through all the clothing Théo could feel the heat of his body with the fire running through his veins. It was a strange sensation, to those he loved it was soothing, a warmth to give to them out of love, but the power of it dangerous to say the least, to anything or anyone that threaten them all.

"You should let me take a look at that cut on your head", Théo noticed the blood cakes in his hair. He grabbed hold of the edge of the bar and pulled himself up into standing position which had his head swim for a moment, and blinking a few times to clear vision. He reached down to Thyrian with a outstretched hand to help him up. The place was silent now, no one in sight not even those would be assassins were to be seen, Théo suspected they gathered themselves and left in a hurry and why they had come here? that would never be known.

As his uncle scrambled to his feet, and regardless of injuries to either of them, Théo was over come with an urge to embrace his uncle. Whether it was because he reminded him of Thrand, or simply because he had never really had the chance in the past to do it, he did it and folded his arms around the broad frame of Thyrian. Long held emotions that had stayed in Théo for all these years, the events that happened in the past to each family that divided them to some point, all gone. A resolution within Théo had finally come and all that was left was .. love for his uncle. And it felt so good.

Once he had settled himself and pulled back from the embrace, "So .. you did not ask me to come to Fafnersvik for a bar fight, whats on your mind uncle Thyrian?".

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[member="Thyrian Hearthfire"]​

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rdCgUXwqnI​

Théo's compliment and touching gesture left him speechless as they lay beside one another behind the bar, his fiery gaze flickering in gratitude. Never in his life would he think himself worthy of being his father's son, let alone his successor. To hear his brother's firstborn, a man who loved his grandpapa so dearly, tell him so... It meant the world to Thyrian, who did not quite know how to respond. So he didn't.

With his nephew's help he painstakingly got back on his feet, leaning against the counter to steady himself. Then, quite suddenly, Théo put his arms around him. Again, Thyrian did not know the proper procedure between uncles and nephews. Slowly but surely, however, he returned the embrace by gently patting his back while nuzzling his chin into Théo's dark hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered during their embrace. "I should never have asked [member="Mysa Snowstrider"] to leave your father. He and Coci are her real parents; they were there for her long before me and Kära showed up, suddenly and uninvited. As were you."

He allowed their tender moment to last for as long as Théo wished, and only once it ended naturally did he ask him the question Thyrian had expected all along. "As fun as it was? No, not quite," he nudged his shoulder with a smirk. "Théodred, I... feel I must apologise. I never truly thought of you as a man in your own right until recently. Feels like it was only yesterday you were but as tall as this counter. You were always just my brother's little boy. But I see now that I was wrong," he said as he straightened his back, regaining some of his typical regal posture. "I've been wrong about you for a long time. You've shown your quality as a commander and leader of men."

With a wave of his hand his trusty pipe was summoned into his possession, miraculously left intact and unspoiled by the chaotic brawl. Giving it a few puffs, he continued. "The Realm is undergoing some major changes, given recent... events. We need to become more efficient, less centralised. Your father serves Midvinter well as Warden of the Westmark over in Fridheim, but there are more Marks yet without someone to lead them." Another puff of his pipe before in a rather nonchalant fashion he finally broke the news to him.

"I'm placing you in charge of the Northmark," he told him, plain and simple. Blowing a smoke ring out towards the empty room, he looked over at Théo. "If you think you've got the stones for it?"

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

Théo was lost for words.

In all the time he had grown up on this planet, spent years coming across the most beautiful things to the most deadly and dangerous, he had come to know Midvinter as second nature. But, that was only because Midvinter herself, had allowed it, if one got to familiar or would take her for granted, Midvinter would remand you who was exactly in command. There would always be surprises, even in his young years Théo had come across so many of them and the magnitude of them, astounding. But here, listening to his uncle, his father's brother that had seen more of the bad then good the galaxy had to offer, been a part of that bad element, it was almost impossible for Théo to think that his uncle would have done such things. It was like two entirely different people, from what he knew of his history.

He had remembered that feeling when they first arrived at the Tower, confronted the family out of the blew and so much had unraveled. His own father had gained his brother back after believing him dead, and a childhood friend but the sickening sensation of the darkside was still in them at the time, and he remembered it made him feel sick. That feeling was all gone now, he doubted his uncle would ever bend to the lightside but it mattered little now. His path entirely different from that of Sith and Jedi and all that that encompasses, Théo was more than envious of this, to not have a duty to a doctrine whether it was for the good or the bad.

Thyrian's focus was Midvinter and that was enough in itself.

"Mysa will find her own way, whether it is with us or you. But rest assured she will be with us for the right reasons and besides she is home .. and that is all that matters". Really what does one say to the man that loves Mysa just as much as anyone that is family regardless of the name. So Théo was pleased when Thyrian changed to topic. But what came next was intriguing. "I thank you uncle for your kind words, and I would be happy to accept the station in the Northmark". There was a grin on his face, "My stones will stand against the test, I can assure you".

"You said so yourself .. I am my father's son after all". He gave his uncle a wink to add to the grin. But the realisation kicked in soon after, his uncle was right in placing trusted people in the Marks. The continent is vast and Thyrian can't be every where at once, nor can he defend Midvinter to localised in Thainbroek. Already Théo was thinking ahead, sifting through ideas and things that must be done to sure up the Northmark in defense of the Realm.

"I would be my honour My Lord Hearthfire". And those words given with complete sincerity.

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[member="Thyrian Hearthfire"]​