[hr][hr][center][color=0076a3][b][h2]HOUSE VALIAN[/h2][/b][b]William Valian[/b][/color]
[b]Ebon Keep, Ebonheart, Xandria[/b]
[sub][b]1st of Gerna | 1200 AU[/b][/sub][/center]
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[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/cv74IaB.jpg[/img][/center]
In the shadow of the new imperial election tensions were brewing as rulers across the realm began to debate of how to approach a decision before they had even left for the imperial capital. The Kingdom of Xandria was no different as much was clear as distorted interjections and debates flooded the chambers of the high council in Ebonheart Keep. The question of who should rule and direct the empire as it should be was a peculiar one; there were many options. However, a different type of argument had begun elsewhere in the castle as much was clear as the two eldest sons of King Alexander III Valian began a debate of their own; one completely separate from what was going on in the council chambers. 

In the castle courtyard, Alexander IV Valian spoke his points in-between the swing of his sword against a stock training dummy. His brother, William Valian, refused to accept Alexander’s revelation to him only moments prior.

“Are you sure?” The voice of William Valian stood in disbelief in the royal courtyard (though it my as well had been a royal courtyard & target range) as he looked at his elder brother, the heir to the throne of the kingdom. 

“I’m [i]twenty-eight[/i] years past my nameday, brother. If I’m going to see any [i]real[/i] military experience I could use as a ruler I need to join the imperial banners against the barbarians in the far north. I cannot stay here fighting knarls and kobolds, I have seen enough… learned enough.” Alexander sighed as he swung his longsword one last time into the training dummy that was in front of him. He paused for a second before he turned his head to look at his younger brother. “The only thing I will learn by staying here is how to get fat and bored. Father may have a shit leg and a broken heart, but he isn’t on his way out just yet.”

Was his brother serious? Fighting barbarians and risking his life for the sake of his own amusement? His own experience? He was a fool not to know that the life expectancy rate was low as low could get for others who followed this path. The tales of young men going to fight in the far north had basically descended into horror stories— and the few that actually did survive had either gone mad from the experience or lost their limbs to the frozen plague that was the harsh weather that resided there. It was suicide. 

“That is a death sentence. Father won’t approve.”

Alexander shook his head, “Father respects my decisions as my own. Not to mention he is too preoccupied with other things to notice.”

William hated to admit it, but his brother was right in that way. Their father, King Alexander III, had been in a constant depression for the last twelve years and had gone through hobby to hobby, philosophy to philosophy, distraction to distraction all to find something that would take his attention away from his deep sadness; a sadness that some had come to call “The Long Sadness” to describe the ridiculous and long drawn out anxiety that the king held and couldn’t get away from. Both Alexander IV and William had for some time realized that their father had descended into a sort of madness but didn’t feel he was inept to rule so didn’t bring it up at high council meetings. 

“Duncan Cragmore agrees with me.”

The mention of Benjamin’s pig-headed imbecile of a brother caused William some discomfort. Had Alexander been convinced by Duncan that this crusade was in their best interest as warriors? If so, Alexander couldn’t have been so stupid that he could be convinced so easily.

William groaned, “Duncan Cragmore is a [i]psychopath[/i].” 

The crown prince chuckled as a smirk curled on his lips. What his brother was saying was true but it took someone like Duncan to see the far north as an opportunity and look at it from a warrior’s angle and not a paranoid son of a lord. If he perished in the north he would perish in the north— it wasn’t like his father was short on heirs if he ended up on the end of a nordheim’s blade. Though he had absolutely no intention to die. There were many reasons why Alexander had made up his mind on his expedition to the far north and not all of them were so vain and foolish as he made it seem. The barbarians were becoming a exponentially larger problem as the years dragged on and many of them still raided southern shores. He had to see it with his own eyes.

“What about Adelheid?”

Alexander’s expression changed as his brother brought up his wife of fourteen months. It was true that he had not mentioned the prospect to her yet and between the anxieties between Adelheid adapting to a new home and the lack of an heir procured between them, it probably would not be received very well. Tough as it was to say, he would tell her of his intentions whether she liked them or not.

“I have made up my mind. She will respect that.”

William rose his hands in defeat. “My brother the fool. And people called me [i]The Jester Prince[/i]. I hope you know what you’re doing, Alex.”

Alexander nodded, “I do not intend to die, if that is what you are inferring.”

“I know that… it’s just…” William looked down at the ground for a minute as he tried to collect his thoughts. “...isn’t it reckless to go to the far north to fight the nordheim, threat or not? You’re the heir of the throne. You shouldn’t be even consider this, you should be focusing on procuring a child with Adelheid and making worth of your time here...”

Alexander laughed, “Other second-born’s would be thrilled about their elder sibling’s absence and possible death yet here you are dreading it. I’m sure Benjamin Cragmore is thrilled about his brother leaving. It’s very interesting how different you are, William.”

“I suppose it isn’t an ordinary behavior.”

Alexander wasn’t [i]wrong[/i], that much was for sure. Since their mother’s death twelve years ago, William had decided that it would be his mission to live up to her standards and expectations of him. This led to William taking a huge interest in the more political nature of things since his brother by comparison was a bit more a brute; a soldier. He would need a strong diplomat and steward when he finally became king— at least that’s how William looked at it.  There was nothing wrong with being the future King of Xandria’s chancellor or ambassador; a position he had resigned himself too years ago when he started his advanced studies in politics, diplomacy, and political history. 

The sword-toting prince nodded, “Indeed. But don’t you worry about me, I’m going to the north in good company and I don’t just mean Duncan Cragmore but also plenty lesser nobility willing to prove themselves.”

“I suppose you can be very convincing when you have a point.”

“Right. Now, if you excuse me… I have to tell father and the high council about my intentions. I leave my responsibilities in your hands.”

William nearly retorted with a sarcastic [i]‘good luck with that’[/i] but felt it unnecessarily condescending at the moment. Alexander may have been sure of himself, but he had always had a conviction that was far more relentless than his own. 

“I’m sorry you had to witness that, Aristal.” William commented as he ran his right hand through his hair in frustration.

The long cool woman looked up from her hands, that she had sunken focus into as soon as the arguing started. Her eyes darted wildly, catching her up from the conversation she had retreated from. She bit her pink lower lip in thought before shaking her head, “It’s okay, such is life I suppose.”

Although their marriage had be recent, the two had always shared the experience of being the lesser, younger members of a royal family. William provided a certain bark in his voice that Aristal had lacked throughout a lifetime of patronizing rumors about her being a true orphan, only favored by her adoptive father rather than begat. 

“William,” She started in her soft voice, her mind immediately jumping to the people of this foreign land she married into, finding the soft reserve of emotions she carried for them, “if your brother is going away, and the arch-electors called for voting, who is going to look after the land?”

William took another breath, “If my brother gets his way? I suppose the responsibility will fall to me when my father goes off to the congregation at the capital.”

The idea that William could possibly have the option of ruling was one he hadn’t thought about. He had always had simple and more supportive aspirations and here came the thought that he might have to sit in the throne for a brief period and dish out the king’s justice. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if it did turn out like it was expected to. He hadn’t studied rulership, criminal law, or anything of the sort. Perhaps taking a backseat was counterintuitive after all.

“Unless he decides to take me with him. In that case the responsibility of watching over Xandria would fall to Lucius.”

Aristal shifted slightly in her spot, tugging nervously on the green sleeve of her dress in thought, “If you go to the capital, would I be coming?”

“Unless you don’t want to, in this completely hypothetical scenario, yes you would.” William let out a nervous chuckle as he looked at her curiously. “Are you uncomfortable with going there still? The capital?”

“Years of discrimination hardly goes away, even when you learn a weapon or read some books, William.” Aristal defensively crossed her arms, trying to hide her embarrassment. 

“Aristal—” He paused as he placed his hand on her shoulder, “—don’t worry about it. If we pray really hard they’ll all go away. At least that’s what the priests tell me.” 

Aristal squirmed under his hand, “Maybe. They wouldn’t have to go away if they just treated me like their sister instead of some stranger. Yarlo was nice to me, why couldn't the rest? Am I ugly? Do I sound bad? Do I smell? I bathed!”

“Maybe you used the wrong soap? Imperials are finicky like that.” William laughed, “I really don’t know why they act as they do, but it is unbecoming and sinful. If the gods are real then Helstar will come for them soon— with the big hammer they say he has.” 

“Well he is going to need an even bigger hammer for the whole family,” Aristal let a flash of a pearly smile break her pout. 

“He’s got a [i]really[/i] [b]big[/b] hammer. We have a big statue of it—” He paused as he walked over to the stone balcony that oversaw the city below and the large island on Ebon Lake in the distance. The statue of Helstar was [i]huge[/i], so huge they could even see it from miles away; a fact that had always been one of the great wonders of the ancient Xandrian builders. Even Lalaifia was impressed when Ixyan displayed it to his newfound friend and ally back during the unification. “—right over there, actually.”

Aristal looked over her shoulder to the sight of a massive stone hammer in the blue distance, a look of stupidity crossing her face, “How did I never notice this before?”

“It is a pretty colossal thing.” William replied, “What do—”

“You don’t think my family has the right to call me names do you?” Aristal surrendered her insecurity. 

William sighed. [i]This[/i] again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever read anywhere in the religious tenets that they forced down our throats to ‘not call other people names’, to be honest. There’s ‘do not lie in bed with the same sex or face judgement’ but not calling other people names.” William joked before shaking his head. Whilst he hoped that his humor would redirect her mood, he knew his newfound wife well given their meeting some years back when she found herself sent to Xandria to be educated through his father’s tutelage. But she lived far more in the past then his sister, Imara, did. It was hard to break her of that.

“The hatred you suffered was and is deplorable, but the only way for it not to affect you, is to refuse to let it be a weapon against you. Don’t sink the knife deeper than it already has been set.” He added as his brows narrowed. 

Aristal reached out and rubbed William’s brow, “Relax, you’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

“Not [i]wrinkles[/i]! How will anybody take me seriously with wrinkles?!”

“You tell me, [i]Jester Prince[/i].”

“Haven’t heard that one in awhile.” He chuckled. “Anyway, we won’t know if we have to go to the imperial capital or not until my father makes his decision.”

“I’ll await the word then.” Aristal nodded.

[hider=Mentions]Duncan Cragmore
Adelheid Amrothan[/hider]