03-09-2018, 10:59 PM
hold me in this wild, wild world
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
Youth is an exhausting thing. While Brennen has always been an old soul, and age has taught him even more to conserve his energy (every move counts, every movement is calculated and precise, rarely does he frolic or cavort anymore), Jesper is like a coiled spring beside him, contracting and expanding and nearly bouncing with contained energy. Still, they cover ground quite nicely, and Brennen subtly directions their walk to wind deeper into the jungle, sure in his path but in no rush to get there. He usually goes by air – it’s one of the few places where the canopy opens up enough to allow him easy air access – but he has the foot-path memorized as well.
The birds have decided they aren’t as interesting as they had the potential to be, and drifted away to higher branches where they are less distracting with their chatter. They still follow along the same path, but at a distance. All except Brennen’s little friend – but even she has fallen silent, seemingly drowsing from her perch upon his crest. Not to disappoint now with a lack of interest or energy, the boy follows up after digesting Brennen’s advice with a veritable stream of questions; the older stallion lets him run himself quiet before he says anything, holding in a laugh but only at the greatest effort. He still exhales on what can only be called a chuckle, because mirth at the refreshment of Jesper’s enthusiasm is hard to keep to himself.
“Well, I was born on the Beach,” he answers, and that at least the boy should be familiar with. It was one of the lands that had not changed between the old and new Beqanna; the fae had left the beach and its collection of ghosts and the dead alone. It was not a particularly nice place to be born, or to grow up, but it had been Brennen’s home. “I didn’t know my mother – her name was Green with Envy, but she either died when she left me at the Beach, or has disappeared so thoroughly that no one ever saw her again.” When he was very little, Brennen wondered about his dam, but has rarely though about her in the last hundred years or so. She simply doesn’t factor into his life. “The crows that frequented the Beach took me on as part of their flock, and I lived with them on the Beach for about a year. Then I went looking for my father, Texas. He was King of the Bachelor Kingdom, the Tundra, and so I settled there with him, and that was where I lived until the lands shifted and the Tundra ceased to exist.”
Much as he never thinks of his mother, he often forgets he was once a Prince, amongst the many other titles he has held since. And Texas – he does not know how to describe Texas, so he doesn’t try. He had – does – love his sire, but he no longer idolizes the man the way he had when he had been so young. He considers the next question – his greatest accomplishment? There are many bright points in his life, he supposes those will have to do. “As far as achievements go, well, I entered my first huge tournament when I was barely three, the Gladiator tournament which was much like an Alliance except perhaps even more blood thirsty. Nobody expected much, but there was an opening to represent the Tundra, so they let me go. Imagine their surprise when I was third overall,” The flash a grin there has more of an edge than anything he’s shown Jesper so far; a hint that Brennen can be fiercer than his laid-back rumbling usually gives any hints of. “A few decades later I was also able to represent the Tundra in an Alliance tournament, and took fourth there, which was reasonably well.” It was better than “reasonable” to be fourth out of 18 contestants, but he has always thought he should have done better… “Actually, your mother edged me out of top three placings, taking third herself.” He smiles at the boy again, pride for his lost daughter very clear in his face. Bethanie had been the closest to him, in terms of raw skill.
“But, perhaps more important was the many years I was able to serve the Tundra as General. I trained a lot of fighters to protect the Tundra, or go on and protect their own Kingdoms. That was a greater accomplishment, a greater good, than simply winning battles of my own. That and truly being able to defend others – more than just defending a Kingdom’s honor, or just proving it has capable warriors and it’s not an easy target, fighting in a real war is a totally different beast.” All humor has fled from the warrior’s ageless face and he is quiet for a few moments as they walk, the roar of the waterfall they are approaching starting to sound in their ears. “That is the greatest fear I have ever known. Watching my brothers, and my friends, and my children walk into a war I knew not everyone would walk away from. But I couldn’t ask them not to go, because they had every right to fight against evil just as I did.” Brennen can see them as he says this – his brothers, furious at the massacre that had led to the war; his lover, a formidable magician but he feared for her just the same; his son Cagney, not a fighter and hopelessly in love with a girl on the other side; little golden Nylee, Queen of the Falls and with no business in the midst of a mock battle, much less a war; Bethanie fighting off blood-crazed wolves to save Nylee, her younger half-sister, and Brennen caught up with his own fight too far off to come to their aid. Morphine and Beth had saved Nylee in the end, but Morphine had not reached them in time to save Bethanie. “That war took your mother from us. She took injuries defending her Queen and half-sister that not even the magic of their healing waterfall could cure. You must have been born just before that war, or before she passed on from her injuries.”
He looks over at Jesper as he says this, and he’s led them so close to the waterfall that the overspray reaches them. The bird on his back chirps a sleepy objection, and burrows deeper into his mane. They both take a quiet moment, Brennen turning from the boy to stare into the tumbling water as if it is a long-lost friend. Bethanie was always going to go before him, because she was mortal like her mother, but she should have died of old age, not brutal war. Knowing she did not live a full, long life leaves an ache in him that he cannot ignore like he can some of those who lived to a ripe old age. “This reminds me of their waterfall. The Dazzling Waterfalls.” Even the name brings a small smile back to his eyes. “They loved that Kingdom so, your mother’s family. Almost as if it was a living creature, and not just a place to live. Some of them said it even spoke to them, in their hearts and souls. They served it for all of my lifetime, some seven or eight generations. Beginning with your great-great-great-great grandmother, I believe, and all the way down to what would have been your…hmm…first cousin once removed, Nairne, who was still serving the Falls when the Kingdoms disappeared. And perhaps her brother, Rhonen, though he was quite young when it happened.” His mind wanders for a moment because there is a chance, actually, than Rhonen is still alive. Possibly even still a relatively young man – a cousin Jesper could get to know. But he can’t be sure, so he pushes the thought away for further research. “That might be my biggest regret,” he sighs, staring again at the waterfall. “I fell in love with your grandmother Neraza, but I never let myself tell her, and she fell in love with another who became her King and life companion. There have been other loves in my life, of course, you don’t live to this age without them, but I will never know what Neraza and I might have had, if I had been willing to admit my love for her.”
There’d been other circumstances, of course, reasons he’d been reluctant. How does one admit to loving a foreign Queen after she is banished from your own Kingdom, because she swapped out one of your children for another, and drove a huge wedge between yourself and the mare you thought you loved? Politics had prevented them from even acknowledging each other for enough years that she’d already found Edmond; and it would have been the lowest of the low to try and get between the two of them when they were so clearly in love and so well matched; both mortals who would live and die the same lifetimes.
“Beqanna has taught me…everything,” he wants to roll his shoulders, is halfway through going to do so when he remembers his passenger and stills, settle for shifting his wings instead, trying to find a better way to phrase it. “The good things and the hard things.”
The birds have decided they aren’t as interesting as they had the potential to be, and drifted away to higher branches where they are less distracting with their chatter. They still follow along the same path, but at a distance. All except Brennen’s little friend – but even she has fallen silent, seemingly drowsing from her perch upon his crest. Not to disappoint now with a lack of interest or energy, the boy follows up after digesting Brennen’s advice with a veritable stream of questions; the older stallion lets him run himself quiet before he says anything, holding in a laugh but only at the greatest effort. He still exhales on what can only be called a chuckle, because mirth at the refreshment of Jesper’s enthusiasm is hard to keep to himself.
“Well, I was born on the Beach,” he answers, and that at least the boy should be familiar with. It was one of the lands that had not changed between the old and new Beqanna; the fae had left the beach and its collection of ghosts and the dead alone. It was not a particularly nice place to be born, or to grow up, but it had been Brennen’s home. “I didn’t know my mother – her name was Green with Envy, but she either died when she left me at the Beach, or has disappeared so thoroughly that no one ever saw her again.” When he was very little, Brennen wondered about his dam, but has rarely though about her in the last hundred years or so. She simply doesn’t factor into his life. “The crows that frequented the Beach took me on as part of their flock, and I lived with them on the Beach for about a year. Then I went looking for my father, Texas. He was King of the Bachelor Kingdom, the Tundra, and so I settled there with him, and that was where I lived until the lands shifted and the Tundra ceased to exist.”
Much as he never thinks of his mother, he often forgets he was once a Prince, amongst the many other titles he has held since. And Texas – he does not know how to describe Texas, so he doesn’t try. He had – does – love his sire, but he no longer idolizes the man the way he had when he had been so young. He considers the next question – his greatest accomplishment? There are many bright points in his life, he supposes those will have to do. “As far as achievements go, well, I entered my first huge tournament when I was barely three, the Gladiator tournament which was much like an Alliance except perhaps even more blood thirsty. Nobody expected much, but there was an opening to represent the Tundra, so they let me go. Imagine their surprise when I was third overall,” The flash a grin there has more of an edge than anything he’s shown Jesper so far; a hint that Brennen can be fiercer than his laid-back rumbling usually gives any hints of. “A few decades later I was also able to represent the Tundra in an Alliance tournament, and took fourth there, which was reasonably well.” It was better than “reasonable” to be fourth out of 18 contestants, but he has always thought he should have done better… “Actually, your mother edged me out of top three placings, taking third herself.” He smiles at the boy again, pride for his lost daughter very clear in his face. Bethanie had been the closest to him, in terms of raw skill.
“But, perhaps more important was the many years I was able to serve the Tundra as General. I trained a lot of fighters to protect the Tundra, or go on and protect their own Kingdoms. That was a greater accomplishment, a greater good, than simply winning battles of my own. That and truly being able to defend others – more than just defending a Kingdom’s honor, or just proving it has capable warriors and it’s not an easy target, fighting in a real war is a totally different beast.” All humor has fled from the warrior’s ageless face and he is quiet for a few moments as they walk, the roar of the waterfall they are approaching starting to sound in their ears. “That is the greatest fear I have ever known. Watching my brothers, and my friends, and my children walk into a war I knew not everyone would walk away from. But I couldn’t ask them not to go, because they had every right to fight against evil just as I did.” Brennen can see them as he says this – his brothers, furious at the massacre that had led to the war; his lover, a formidable magician but he feared for her just the same; his son Cagney, not a fighter and hopelessly in love with a girl on the other side; little golden Nylee, Queen of the Falls and with no business in the midst of a mock battle, much less a war; Bethanie fighting off blood-crazed wolves to save Nylee, her younger half-sister, and Brennen caught up with his own fight too far off to come to their aid. Morphine and Beth had saved Nylee in the end, but Morphine had not reached them in time to save Bethanie. “That war took your mother from us. She took injuries defending her Queen and half-sister that not even the magic of their healing waterfall could cure. You must have been born just before that war, or before she passed on from her injuries.”
He looks over at Jesper as he says this, and he’s led them so close to the waterfall that the overspray reaches them. The bird on his back chirps a sleepy objection, and burrows deeper into his mane. They both take a quiet moment, Brennen turning from the boy to stare into the tumbling water as if it is a long-lost friend. Bethanie was always going to go before him, because she was mortal like her mother, but she should have died of old age, not brutal war. Knowing she did not live a full, long life leaves an ache in him that he cannot ignore like he can some of those who lived to a ripe old age. “This reminds me of their waterfall. The Dazzling Waterfalls.” Even the name brings a small smile back to his eyes. “They loved that Kingdom so, your mother’s family. Almost as if it was a living creature, and not just a place to live. Some of them said it even spoke to them, in their hearts and souls. They served it for all of my lifetime, some seven or eight generations. Beginning with your great-great-great-great grandmother, I believe, and all the way down to what would have been your…hmm…first cousin once removed, Nairne, who was still serving the Falls when the Kingdoms disappeared. And perhaps her brother, Rhonen, though he was quite young when it happened.” His mind wanders for a moment because there is a chance, actually, than Rhonen is still alive. Possibly even still a relatively young man – a cousin Jesper could get to know. But he can’t be sure, so he pushes the thought away for further research. “That might be my biggest regret,” he sighs, staring again at the waterfall. “I fell in love with your grandmother Neraza, but I never let myself tell her, and she fell in love with another who became her King and life companion. There have been other loves in my life, of course, you don’t live to this age without them, but I will never know what Neraza and I might have had, if I had been willing to admit my love for her.”
There’d been other circumstances, of course, reasons he’d been reluctant. How does one admit to loving a foreign Queen after she is banished from your own Kingdom, because she swapped out one of your children for another, and drove a huge wedge between yourself and the mare you thought you loved? Politics had prevented them from even acknowledging each other for enough years that she’d already found Edmond; and it would have been the lowest of the low to try and get between the two of them when they were so clearly in love and so well matched; both mortals who would live and die the same lifetimes.
“Beqanna has taught me…everything,” he wants to roll his shoulders, is halfway through going to do so when he remembers his passenger and stills, settle for shifting his wings instead, trying to find a better way to phrase it. “The good things and the hard things.”
hold me in this wild, wild world
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
BRENNEN
ooc; I'm so sorry this is not a post it's a novel /hides/