Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (Finn)

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"I suppose that must be interesting." Brenner conceded, seeming a bit uncomfortable in this territory. "I often find it intriguing to read primary sources in Kathalan, and find their Common iterations have been woefully mistranslated. A tongue as old as Vallenor must be rife with mistranslation across the millennia." Brenner's eyes darted to the sword, but darted right back to the man's eyes. 'A lover, not a fighter' he'd said. A quaking sigh escaped through his teeth, and Finn would feel an internal struggle:

He was in a foreign land in an obscure pub with a complete stranger. He might have been more daring than he hazarded to be at home. He got the sense that Finn was flirting and that an advance may not be unwelcome. He certainly wouldn't be ridiculed in a land where no one batted an eye at their prince marrying another man. Would it be so horrible a thing to indulge just once? After all he'd done for the State and all the sacrifices he'd made in the Warrens and beyond? Risking life and limb and overcoming a deadly ailment only recently to regain his virility? He clenched his eyes shut, for the first time overtly displaying the turmoil in his symphony in a way that any eyes might observe. He physically shook it off, and forced a smile.

"Sorry. Bit of a chill there for a moment." He cleared his throat, and pushed down that wantonness that he'd permitted to burgeon to the surface for a brief, reckless moment. It wasn't worth it. He was a hero of the State, and he owed it to those who looked up to him not to give in to his lesser nature. He would not mar his legacy with degeneracy and disappoint the children who would aspire to be like him when they grew up.

"Well, I don't suppose you seduced your way out of the Warrens, so I suspect you are being overly modest."

[Finn]

"Ah, a scholar and a warrior..." Blue eyes were smiling upon Brenner. Finn was loosening up now that he felt he had a bit more control over the situation. He was growing stronger, and perhaps the urgency of the situation had urged his talent to new heights. He could hear the man's symphony more clearly than he ever had before, sifting through nuance and seeing points where a little nudge might prove more efficient for steering his thoughts.

It was frightening, in a sense, to feel his own power. He wondered if Arry felt the same when his suddenly bloomed anew, stronger than ever.

The man was struggling, and for a moment he could see that without the aid of his Rune.

"'Tis cold this far north," he allowed. Then he laughed. "I doubt I could seduce my way out of this taproom. I suppose I ought to practice with my blade, though. I haven't crossed swords in a while..."

He found that he could subtly derail the man from his train of thought, whisper more complex arrangements into his symphony, and he realized that with this much power, he could do serious damage. Zef had warned him about this: interludes; toccatas; fugues. He wouldn't damage the man, but he would take his admiration and strengthen it, put himself on a bit of a pedestal for the man to venerate. Finn would be safe there, and then Brenner would be safe too, safe from the dark thoughts of revenge that he could ignore, but couldn't quell.

So Brenner's mind might read innuendoes there, but he couldn't possibly believe that Finn would be so crass as all that. No, it was his mind imagining what might be if he was brave enough.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner chuckled at the characterisation.

"A lover, a fighter, a scholar and a warrior walk into a bar..." He grinned, "You make us sound like the set up to a joke..." He wondered what the punchline would be, but at least he was resolved that it would not be a joke at his expense.

"Again with the modesty." The Air Commander chided, "You oughtn't sell yourself so short. I saw the way you had the crowd wrapped around your finger, Finn... If you couldn't seduce your way out of this taproom it would only be due to the frenzy you'd create blocking the door." It was a safe way to flirt- Projecting the attraction onto others whilst tacitly acknowledging the man's beauty. And he was beautiful. A paragon of the human form- Hard of muscle, but soft of face. Once more he envisioned the man depicted on a recruitment poster back in Zaichaer- Perhaps he would be bare-chested, staring off into the distance at the bright horizon of their national future with his arm raised in salute to the State.

"Indeed." Brenner said, glancing to the boy's sword. "Are you challenging me to a duel? I'm afraid bladework is not my strongest suit. I'm a keener hand with a rifle or revolver. As an airman, I've had more practical opportunities to use ranged weaponry. Things have to be pretty dire aboard an airship if you need to resort to melee combat." He noted with a chuckle.

"So, um... Finn." He cleared his throat, "What do you do with yourself when you aren't charming the working class of Kalzasi? A boy like you could make quite a name for himself in Zaichaer, I'd imagine."

[Finn]

"Sounds like a rollicking good comedy one might see in a theater," he agreed, smiling.

This was confusing. He could hear the emotions behind the words, but found himself liking the man. Perhaps Arry would be able to teach him how to do this and remain aloof. Finn found himself empathizing too much with people when he could hear their symphonies. Thank the Gods he hadn't listened to his attackers' or he might have developed some form of madness from it all. Sometimes it left him shaken still, or he would wake up in a cold sweat, his dreaming mind reliving it.

But this man was earnest even as he tried to obfuscate his intentions, or perhaps he didn't know his intentions, or perhaps he was struggling with them. Finn knew the Brass City looked down on many sorts of difference; perhaps they looked down on polygamy, polyandry, and anything that wasn't a pair-bonding that produced children. That didn't sound like a place he wanted to go, even if they wouldn't punish him and Arry for their Runes.

"And here I thought modesty a virtue," he said, smiling into his tankard.

"Well, you've got me there: I would definitely put my eye out if I tried to fire a pistol." He grimaced.

"Oh, just recently finished my course at the Academy." He opened and closed his left hand a few times. "Recovering from an injury. I've just started moving up in the world after a long plateau... I would like to travel someday, though I don't know how long I could stay away. No city closer to my village than Kalzasi, and for a village boy, it was the height of sophistication and allure. Perhaps some other city will change my mind someday." Then he frowned.

"But... I don't know... It seems like every other season, people are worried about war with Zaichaer... Would I even be welcome there?" The question was sincere, though he was also asking whether he would be safe there. His melody urged Brenner to protect him, fostering whatever goodwill he could build upon the man's admiration for him.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner sniggered with a nod.

"The warrior and the fighter battling over the heart of the lover, whilst the scholar lends pithy commentary. It's a palpable hit." He smiled against his tankard of ale as he tipped another swig past his lips.

"Aye." The Air Commander wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand for lack of a serviette and for care of his crisp, creased sleeve.

"Modesty has its moments, but only if it is believable." He placed the tankard back down on the table's wood with a light thud. "Not that your delivery isn't that of a masterful minstrel, but the premise is so weak. In what world would you not be deemed an handsome, charismatic man? Maybe in Ecith where up is down and warts are as good as beauty marks, but here in the civilised North?" He clucked his tongue and, despite of his increasing comfort in this man's company, he did not append the thought with the more direct form of flirtation that crossed his mind. To display that he could recognise the man's beauty was to show that he was confident in his sexuality, but to overemphasise it would have the opposite effect.

"Well, I'll be sure to keep mine holstered, then." Brenner winked. It would have been a pity for Finn to lose such a striking eye.

"An injury? Nothing too terrible, I hope..." He paused, because he was curious and hoped Finn would elaborate, but he would prompt him no further lest the topic be too troubling to broach with a relative stranger.

"Welcome in Zaichaer? Why, Finn, I suspect after a week you'd be commissioned to sit for our recruitment posters. You are the very portrait of a hearty, young human- Just the sort of bloke who tends to excel in the armed forces." He tilted his head, "But of course I would not expect you to take up arms against your present neighbours in earnest." He glanced to the lute and his expression darkened slightly. Now there was genuine criticism behind his words, not the playful sort.

"It seems Kalzasi has been relatively kind to you, if not necessarily to your brethren." And with that he glanced about the taproom to some of the other human faces present.

[Finn]

Finn laughed at Brenner's sally, and again at the compliments, just shaking his head. His parents had raised him to work hard and be confident in his work, but there was a small town idea of not getting too big for one's britches at the same time. It was a delicate balance, though perhaps Brenner had a point and he was erring too far on the side of modesty.

He flexed his hand thoughtfully, giving the incident and his recovery a quick new look.

"I broke my hand," he admitted; a truth but not the whole of it. "Recovery was slow and long. I think 'tis as good as new now, though sometimes... I don't know. Phantom pains? It was terrifying, though. Just starting to make a name for myself and my livelihood was threatened.

"How do you do it, then?" he asked, tracking back to the idea of modesty rather than let the man glower at the people who were by and large content with their lives. "How do you come off as confident without becoming arrogant? It seems as though any virtue can become a vice if pushed to the extreme, and we are notoriously subjective observers of ourselves."

The melodies in his voice urged Brenner to unload, to confide. Perhaps if he could have a positive interaction with this man, it would help him heal the internal injuries, the ones that weren't purely physical. Lyra had no necromancy for that, and he had no wish for her to Mesmer him into forgetfulness or similar. And perhaps if Brenner had a positive interaction with him, he would take that back to Zaichaer and there would be a minuscule lessening in the tension between their city-states.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"Really?" Brenner glanced to the hand, sounding genuinely shocked at this news. "You'd never know it for the dexterity practised in your playing up there." He nodded toward the corner Finn had occupied when he'd been playing. He was curious as to how he'd done it, but he hadn't volunteered the information and so the Air Commander would let it lie.

"A simple way to get started," Brenner began, thoughtfully, "Is to learn to take a compliment." He cracked a smile. It was a playful thing to say, but it was also true. "You deal them out adeptly enough, but you seem disinclined to accept the ones offered you." He took a swig of ale.

"And, yes, of course there's something vaguely charming about self-deprecation- But no need to overdo it. If you reinforce those notions too much, people may begin to believe you." He shrugged. "But, to be honest, I don't feel altogether comfortable advising you on such things- Even if the advice was solicited, to speak about these matters in this way feels, well..." He chuckled, "Immodest." He bit his lip.

"You'll probably think me so calculating, now." This was a feint. Finn's Rune would inform him that Brenner was being calculating in getting ahead of the notion that he was being calculating. "Whether or not you know how to take a compliment, Finn, you're perfectly charismatic and you seem to be doing just fine. You hardly need the likes of me to prompt or prod you in any particular direction." He glanced around,

"We travel in different circles and ply our charms toward different ends. There is some overlap between the artist and the diplomat, I think, but in the end there are marked distinctions. And self-deprecation can be terribly... disarming. In either sphere."

[Finn]

The minstrel only nodded and took a sip from his tankard. He didn't want to talk about the incident, especially with Brenner. It would be too difficult to say much more without going into who he suspected was behind it, which could only offend. And there was the fact that his only evidence was circumstantial.

"Thank you," he said with a smile. "I will take disarming as a compliment. And everyone is calculating to some extent. We all play different roles in different situations with different people. Some are more honest about it than others, I suppose. Diplomats and poets both try to find the right words for the right effect." He shrugged a broad shoulder, still smiling.

But Brenner was most definitely calculating, and calculating about his calculation, even. If Finn hadn't had the ability to magically read between the lines, he supposed the man would have been able to talk him around to many things. That was what made a good diplomat, after all. But the man was also trying to talk himself into and out of different things; perhaps his desires were seen as unfit for a man of his stature. And that was a shame. Social mores were all well and good, unless they were oppressive.

He laid his recovered hand upon Brenner's.

"Thank you," he said again, albeit with more emphasis. "Calculating or not, I think your compliments are sincere, and sometimes it takes the admiration of others to help us remember our own worth." Laced through his words was a melody, soothing him into accepting the simple affection without allowing his shame to rear its ugly head. The man deserved a bit of kindness without beating himself up for wanting it.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"As well you should. I can think of few higher compliments..." Brenner chuckled, settling into the strange sense of ease Finn seemed to exude. "For it is no simple thing to disarm a trained officer of Zaichaer." That might have sounded threatening had he intoned it slightly differently, but it was gratitude, not menace, that lay beneath the sentiment.

"Everyone capable of it, I suppose..." Brenner conceded, "Though I will tell you I have been acquainted with particularly guileless individuals who could not help but broadcast their intentions... and to their own detriment." Word had reached his ears late in the prior season that one such figure had been slain. Another of scion of the Old Guard, naturally. They were eminently corruptible, he'd found, and as perverted by power as any mage- And this fellow had been both. A pang of sadness graced his symphony, but only for a brief moment. They'd been rivals and the State was stronger for lack of the man, but he'd been a human being with thoughts and dreams all his own. Brenner sipped his ale in an unuttered toast to the fallen.

His hand tensed at the unexpected touch and his eyes darted to meet Finn's with uncertainty. His fingers were hot beneath the minstrel's touch- Perhaps even feverish.

"I..." His voice caught in his throat, until Finn's soothing energies took hold and loosened his tongue enough for him to articulate a coherent response. "I am pleased that my earnest words have been a comfort to you. We have only just met, Finn, and yet I cannot but feel that your worth is abundant. If ever you should find yourself in Zaichaer, I would be glad to make introductions that might see you performing in great, hallowed halls rather than public houses... Whatever happens between our two cities, I hope you will remember this." To go into any greater detail would be ominous, to say the least, but he was at ease with this one. Perhaps, if Finn's patrons fell before the might of Zaichaer, he would be in need of Dornkirk largesse...

[Finn]

"I most certainly will," he said with a smile, though he wondered if the man would find him so charming if he knew that he could cheat it. He hadn't at first, though; the man's admiration was genuine, and Finn had only teased him a bit with mesmerizing aether. His hand remained on Brenner's, his spell keeping the man's shame quiescent. Perhaps one day his travels would take him to Zaichaer, though he would have to ask Torin about some sort of artifact to hide his Runes lest he be added to their roster of the magically enhanced. He had only finally become comfortable being open about that here in Kalzasi where the Circle held influence, but nowhere near so much as the Order of Reconciliation in Zaichaer.

Perhaps one day Brenner would think back to this night and a Kalzasern man making him feel welcome and shameless in the best sense of the word. Surely there were things the two city-states could teach each other, as much as there were things the two men could teach each other.

They spoke for some time, Finn's hand upon Brenner's. In that time, he spun a seed of knowing into the man's mind; later, perhaps, he would intuit that the injury to Finn's hand had come from Zaichaeri violence and wonder what Finn had done to deserve it or if he had deserved it at all.

For his part, Finn wondered what it would be like to spend time in Zaichaer, toasted by their elite even as he had become here in Kalzasi with the patronage of House Zatrian and Talon Novalys. He wondered what it would be like to love a man in the military, a complicated man like Brenner Dornkirk. But he had Arry now and the temptation wasn't nearly enough to make him stray. Perhaps someday Arry would feel secure enough in Finn's love that he would loosen the reins, but until and unless that happened, at least he never complained of Finn's advances.

As he admired a smile he had elicited from Brenner, he wondered what Arry would make of the man.