We are at war. There will be scars.
Fascinating.Absolutely fascinating.
Erebor has never known a land other than Beqanna. He has never heard of a place where war is mandatory. He has never known of a kingdom where horses are subject so completely to the will of another. He's also never known a place where mares are considered less than, or used purely as breeding stock. He's been raised in a land where his mother is queen, where she rules alone, sole and solitary. He's used to her being a pillar of strength, as much or more than his father. And it baffles and fascinates him to think that there is a land where that is not true. He has no desire to live there, he thinks, but he is terribly curious to visit.
When Killdare speaks of doing his duty, Erebor nods. The boy understands that, and he never doubted that Killdare would, in fact, kill as needed. It had been written in the man's bearing ever since he'd set foot in the Chamber. Erebor had marked him for a soldier the moment he'd seen him, and the man-child is discovering that he's quite a good judge of character.
The man continues speaking, talking of honor and butchery. Erebor nods, agreeing with him completely. The boy may be a trained soldier, may be a warrior, but he will never kill without reason. He takes pleasure in the act of training, in the fact that he is a honed soldier (if a blade untested in actual combat). But he will never take pleasure in the way flesh rips and gives way. It will never be his joy the way it is for some others. He wonders how many around Beqanna would fall into that category. He suspects, strangely, that Eight would not. He wonders if others within the Valley would. He wouldn't know; he hadn't seen any others when he'd visited.
His mother speaks up then, asking after his sister. Erebor hadn't even thought to wonder about that; his mind was more on the questions of the land they'd come from. He hadn't even thought that the man might want to go seek out his sister. If Erebor were in Killdare's position, he isn't sure that it would have even crossed his mind.
"Will you have to return to the land of Calcordia?" he asks, his voice polite but still curious. "Or, are you barred from returning?" He does not ask if the stallion would want to return or not. That would be too personal, prying too much. He may be curious, but he respects the unwritten rules.
Erebor
Native Prince of the Chamber
warship x straia