I'll Give You all the Nails You Need

[Reiner Dornkirk]

"Ahhh, oh..." Reiner glanced up from the ground to meet the eyes of his cousin, his teeth clenched and bared in an awkward grimace as he realized that Stefan was visibly uncomfortable with his attempt at decorum. "I'm... sorry. I've never met a lord before, Your Lo-... Stefan, sir." He got to his feet, albeit a bit unsteadily thanks to his recent introduction to the schnapps of Geleros.

"Y-yes. Private Reiner Dornirk, at your service, Your L-... I'm really sorry I keep doing that. It's just I practiced a lot on the way here, because I didn't want to be, um... to seem..." Remembering there was a cigarette dangling from his lips, and with great relief, he took a long drag in hopes of calming the nerves that were clearly brimming to the surface, just as he'd feared they would. He'd drank for fear of feeling like this, and now that he'd imbibed it felt that that was the reason he couldn't stay his fucking tongue.

"...disrespectful." The word came out awash in smoke. "Of... of course I'd like to speak with you." He clamped his mouth shut, before any errant 'Your Lordships' threatened to emerge. After a beat, when the threat of such had passed, he elaborated a bit.

"I've wanted to meet you for a very long time. As long as I can remember. I don't know what... or if you knew about me, but you- Your whole family has been in inspiration. I, uh... actually grew up in the same house as Uncle Melchior. That was where your man Herr Dienerin found me, believe it or not." He took another drag, before pinching the butt and pulling it from his lips, letting his hand fall to his side. He knew he was babbling, and was poised for Stefan to change his mind straight away about getting to know him. He wished he hadn't had any schnapps earlier, but also wished that he had some now to dull the humiliation of the former issue.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Being called 'Sir' was less uncomfortable since a lot of people he didn't dislike ended up calling him that, his workers, Dienerin, anyone working for the Minister of Science.

Shaking his head again and this time making the declination gesture to imply that apologies were not needed he realized that this man, who he had never met, might also be uncomfortable and off balance in his presence. It had taken him time to realize that people were intimidated by him, and much more time to begin to understand what to do in situations where it was so. Taking a slow breath he reminded himself that the man was his relative and while there was a difference in their ranks he did not want this to be a formal relationship based on that difference.

"Please, I realize that we're strangers and that this is likely awkward for you but, if possible, I'd like to forget the difference in our ranks, at least for the day, and try to remember that our parents grew up in the same house." Even this was probably too formal, but he was trying. Stefan could remember being a boy nervous to meet people, like Admiral Angevin. He listened carefully, gesturing with a hand so they would walk while they talked. Moving helped him it might help the Private. If it seemed to somehow make it worse they could try and find a place to sit somewhere.

When there was a pause he frowned, unsure how to reach across the breach in the families and ending up as straight forward as was his wont.

"My father didn't like to talk about his family. He wouldn't talk about why either. I gleaned that he had a sibling only through overheard bits of conversation and I didn't know about you. Not until I was collecting the family paperwork from the Manor's destruction and found your letters."

Here he looked a little chagrined,

"I read them. Forgive me. I hadn't seen your name before and I wanted to know if I had any family left. I had just found... my family, you see, that same day." His tone clearly communicated that what he had found were remains and not living people. "I was, perhaps, a little desperate, else I would not have breached your privacy in that way. Once I had, once I realized who you were, I set out to find you. Again, I do not know the reason why our parents did not speak, but to me, I can't imagine a reason why, especially now, it would matter between you and I. I hope your feelings are the same on the matter?"

[Reiner Dornkirk]

Reiner shifted from foot to foot. It was getting cooler, and being this high up was a stark difference to the weather down below. Cold weather always seemed to make him more nervous. Or maybe it was just that cold weather and anxiety had similar symptoms- fidgeting, quivering and the like. Whatever the case, he was glad to have something in his hand to mask it, at least somewhat. Even if that just meant he was chain smoking faster than usual.

"You're right... I'm sorry, we're family. And a smaller one than we were a few months ago." He acknowledged and it may have sounded like the first grounded thing he'd said. It was honest, without being mitigated by conditions borne of his nerves.

Standing there in silence for a moment, he was unsure whether he ought to attempt a hug (for they were family) or a handshake (for they were men of Zaichaer), but he let Stefan take the lead and the elder cousin offered neither, gesturing instead for them to stroll.

"Ah..." He smiled to himself, and glanced down a bit bashfully. "No, of course the letters were yours to read. They were meant for Lord Dornkirk, after all, and you are him.. er... he." He smoked, hazarding a sidelong glance at the stark, masculine profile of the taller, tanner Dornkirk. He cut an impressive figure. He looked like the sort of man who became a leader.

"I'm really sorry you had to see that, Sir... Stefan." He forced the casualness, but in that moment it felt right. "You have no idea what an admirer I am of your parents and your brother. I went to the First Minister's speeches, before I got sent to the front, and what your father did? What he came out of?" He sighed, still disbelieving after all these years. "I don't know if you ever saw our old neighborhood, Stefan, but... He may as well have mounted the stars, gettin' as far as he did." He pursed his lips, and shook his head firmly.

"Desperate? No, no. You didn't breach my privacy!" He was emphatic, now. More so than he'd have been, if not for the blasted booze.

"Boys like me don't grow up with much in the way of privacy, and even if that weren't the case- My letters were... That was me trying to connect with you. If anything, you only answered my invitation with a better one." He tried to find Stefan's eyes, hoping he could make contact enough to emphasize his veracity.

"I... might know a bit more about why our parents parted ways. If you're interested, I'll tell you what I know, but... Yes. My feelings are the same. Whatever differences they had? Those're their own. I mean... We have differences, too, but it's for us to figure out whether those can mesh together." No one was gatekeeping their relationship anymore, and Reiner was prepared to explore it organically.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

"Death does not separate, death unites. Life is what separates us."

He said it softly, in his mother's tongue, but his voice was resonant and it grieved though his eyes were dry. Whether he had intended his cousin to hear or not he returned to the conversation in its original language.

Watching the younger man smoke he began to be grateful that, despite his time as a Navy man he hadn't picked up the habit. Sylana had been opposed the practice as 'filthy' and while he'd occasionally taken a cigarette when offered he had never obtained his own. Shaking his head at the reference to the 'old neighborhood' he interjected,

"I don't even know where, exactly, my father is from. He gave speeches to the factory workers about pulling himself up from 'the slums' but if he ever mentioned the address, or even general area, it was out of my hearing."

He didn't think his father was ashamed of where he had come from, not exactly, it seemed more that he did not want to recall times that had been difficult now that there was no reason to fear ever being returned to them. That there was some rift between himself and the rest of his direct family had also been something Stefan had learned more by osmosis than communication.

Frowning at the idea that Reiner had not been given the privacy or respect he deserved in his childhood he said,

"All the more reason why I should respect yours now."

Letting the subject go, making a mental note to return to it another day, he said,

"I wanted to connect with you too. Once I knew, of course. I spent a considerable number of resources finding out what had become of you and was very pleased to discover you lived." He sounded pleased, in his quiet way, which the Private had no way of knowing was rare, but it was. He even allowed the eye contact, perhaps searching for something familiar, something of family. When he was asked if he wanted information about the rift he nodded, enthusiasm showing for the first time, lit by something else, harder to identify.

"I do. I would. Like to know, if it wouldn't be too much to ask. I know you lost your parents at the same time. I'm sorry for it, I would have liked to know them too.

[Reiner Dornkirk]

Reiner nodded at the Kathalan, comprehending. His parents may not have been the most ambitious, but they'd saved enough to prioritize his education. Lots of kids in their neighborhood started working in factories while they were still small, but not Reiner. He went to school and, being a bit younger, the trend toward Kathalan had taken hold. It might have surprised Stefan to know that he also knew a bit of Vallenor, but that was borne of a 'Know thine enemy' mindset during a particular phase in his teens. It certainly wasn't something he was going to broach in this sensitive, first meeting.

Reiner smirked, happy to be at something of an advantage in at least one small way. Stefan may have been the king of this new world, but Reiner had information.

"88 Pfelzer Lane, back cottage on the edge of the Grungeworks. There was a bigger house in front with three families, but the cottage was all ours. I had my own room because I'm an only child, but your dad and my mom had to share it when they were kids." He scratched the back of his head with just the pinky of his free hand, as he paused to smoke with the other.

The comment about privacy glided by unnoticed by the private. Between his childhood and his time in the army, privacy was a fleeting thing. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it. He truly did, but it was a privilege to him, not a right. It wasn't the sort of thing you expected, it was just the sort of thing you got when it came and were thankful.

"I'd... never blame you, even if you didn't want to connect with me. I'll be honest, because... Well. Eitan introduced me to something called 'Gelerian schnapps' and I'm a bit tipsy, but I was afraid you'd think I wanted something from you... Money, power... I don't know." Now that he'd addressed what he felt to be the elephant in the room, he was instantly nervous. It had felt safe to bring up moments earlier, but now that it was out it felt like he was inviting the very suspicion he'd long feared.

"But I don't. Fuck that, man- The only gift I've wanted is to meet my heroes. And that's you, Stefan." His smile softened, turned warmer, "Cousin Stefan." He tried that on for size and, blushing, took another pull of smoke and sighed it out.

"Well. When I was younger, my mom used to tell me that your dad didn't approve of mine. That he was trying to marry her to some, um... entrepreneur type guy? But that my mom loved my dad too much to give 'im up, so he stormed off and never looked back. But when I got a little older, I figured out that my dad's politics were kind of... unsavory for Zaichaer. He was a, um..." Reiner leaned over close enough for Stefan to smell the familiar aroma of breath tinted with Brenner's favorite brand of schnapps. "A socialist." He shook his head apologetically, "I know. But anyway, yeah- I think that's why your dad cut us off. He was afraid we'd bring him down after he'd soared so high. And I get that, I do." He smoked, "I don't blame him, really." He paused for a beat,

"Oh. Right." And here he recalled that the room had another elephant, "My mom is your dad's sister. Dornkirk was her maiden name, but I took it on. Legally changed as of two years back. That probably seems weird, huh?" He looked away, nervously. Hero worship was a hell of a drug.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

It was gratifying on some subconscious level that Rainer understood his mother-tongue, if he had been asked why he would not have been able to say, as he usually preferred people not be able to understand when he used it. Without realizing it, he became more disposed to approve of the younger Dornkirk.

The address meant nothing to him, he didn't even recall having heard the street name before, which meant it was in the parts of the city he didn't even venture in to when he wanted a drink with 'the common man' of the middle class. He'd known that his father had grasped the ladder of upward mobility and ripped his way up but he hadn't been fully away of exactly how far that ascent had been.

Stephan supposed it was fair that it was his right to connect with his family as he wanted, and he inclined his head to acknowledge the point. The idea that the young man might have wanted something more material than family affection had not actually occurred to the older man. In his mind he had been the one to reach out, to seek the acquaintance. He supposed the letters had been the start but no one had ever really come to him, or sought him out, for advancement. His position as Minister likely would have led to it at some point but there had been so much chaos in the war, and as Science Minister, what was in his gift was more grants than positions of honors.

The emphatic denial seemed to imply that people have accused the Private of only wanting to know his family for personal gain, which Stefan could understand, but he also believed the denial. Having money or connections always caused jealousy and for a man that seemed to have little of the one and only longing for the other on a personal level, it made sense that his fellow men, in a similar position, would have attacked him out of jealousy. It made Stefan briefly angry with his father for ignoring the genuine devotion that had been offered him.

As the story of the fallout came to light it was more than easy for him to believe the reasoning. His parents had been meticulous with the choice of his own bride and had always made it clear that both of their sons must marry high on the social ladder or the consequences would be dire.

Nodding along, a little frown that was concern rather than displeasure furrowing his brow, he was a little taken aback to recall that, due to his mother having been married, Reiner would have rightly carried his father's name. But, that too Stefan accepted as right. If the man had not been the honorable type, Stefan too might have rejected his name for one that stood for the honor and duty due the State.

"No." He stopped and turned to look more directly at his relation, "I don't think taking an honorable name by choice is anything but right." The deeper voice was sincere, intent that Reiner see that he meant it, that he would find none of the mocking from Stefan that he must have endured from others to be so worried about the impression he gave him.

"As far as I'm concerned, you are a Dornkirk. Let any many who believes otherwise come tell me so." The threat was slight, but present, as, without realizing it, Stefan drew himself to his full height.

[Reiner Dornkirk]

It was nice to be able to offer Stefan something he didn't have. Even if he'd been afforded the time before being whisked here, it would have been a challenge to muster a gift worthy of one so great- Especially on a grunt's salary. But what Reiner had was a connection to Stefan's past that had long been forbidden him. Realizing that, he felt a bit more worthy of this audience.

Stefan was right to infer that the young man had been haunted by accusations by his peers when it came to talk of his family connection. He'd been teased rather mercilessly upon changing his name, but it felt right even in the face of their jeers. The specter of the gold-digging distant relation was enough to make him question his own motives, at times. Consciously, his focus was ever on pride in his blood and the symbol the Dornkirk name represented to the working man, but in his fantasies he wound up a knight at their table. Never a king in his own right, but a sword in their service. Still, he'd always sought to earn it. It was never his aim to curry handouts.

His shoulders relaxed with immense relief at Stefan's approval.

"Thank you..." Reiner hadn't realized how much he needed to hear that from the last surviving member of what he considered the main branch of his family. It wasn't as though he'd plucked the name from a book of genteels at random, he truly was of the same blood.

"I know I take after my father more than my mom, your Aunt Greta..." He sounded ashamed of his features. He'd been taunted for that, as well. How could he be a Dornkirk, when he hadn't their notable profile with that distinct, patrician nose so much like the prow of the airships they designed? They looked like men, while Reiner ever looked the boy with his big eyes and dainty, upturned nose.

"But at the end of the day, I'm really as much Dornkirk as you, aren't I?" That seemed a hard won realization. They each had one parent born into that name. The only distinction being that local custom passed names patrilineally, so Reiner had to break with tradition to claim their common surname.

"I know these wounds are still fresh. For all of us, and I don't want to salt them, but I hope one day you'll tell me about the Dornkirks I wasn't blessed to meet. Now that we've bridged the gap, I figure I can write you more letters and you can write me. Dienerin knows where I'm stationed on the outskirts of the city." He took a drag on his cigarette, and scanned his surroundings reconsidering.

"Though I suppose a classified floating refugee city may not have a working post office up and running yet, huh?" His lips tilted into a crooked grimace, out of which a bit of smoke plumed forth.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

"You are welcome." The emphasis was on the welcome, it wasn't a phrase recognizing the thanks, or very little of it was."I never met my Aunt, as you know, but I can see my father in you too, my brother..." The throat clearing was back and he started walking again, expecting Reiner would follow because if he started walking, whomever he was speaking to fell into step with him. The only ones ever to let him walk away or demand he come back had been his parents and Brenner.

Placing a hand briefly on the younger man's shoulder he said,

"None of us can control how we come into the world, or where, or to whom, but we can choose who we are afterwards. You chose to honor people I would have given my life for, had I the chance. You chose duty and put on its uniform. You should be thanked for your service."

Swallowing and removing his hand he nodded at the request. His wounds were obviously still bleeding, but he wasn't rejecting the idea, only postponing it. Once he could speak without shaming himself again he answered,

"I will write to you, if you wish to return to your current duties. I would understand, it is what you chose. But... I am in need of people I can rely on. My people here,"

He glanced around at the slowly diminishing crowd of mourners,

"They are good people but I have... difficulty with people who aren't family, sometimes." It felt like admitting a weakness and he was looking ahead, at nothing in particular as he continued, "If ever you should want to exchange your current duty for another I can promise that there would be no less honor in the work."

Perhaps he was not being especially clear in his offer, in his request, but no one would ever say diplomatic negotiation was his forte.

[Reiner Dornkirk]

Reiner felt warm with the notion that anything of Melchior or Brenner might be seen in him. He'd always felt he shared something innate with them, and now that he'd met Stefan he wondered whether it might be hunger. Drive. Want for something more and better- Like a fortress in the sky.

He quickly kept pace with the taller man, and started a bit at the unexpected weight of a hand upon the epaulet of his uniform. Hoping Stefan didn't notice his little jolt, he turned his face to meet those sad eyes. His brow knitted and his own expression waxed forlorn. Here was a titan of humankind upon whose shoulders all the weight of Zaichaer pressed from above like a crashing zeppelin, even as the millstone of his loss tugged his neck from below.

"You are one of the people I chose to honor." Reiner clarified firmly, hoping it would be consoling to hear. "And I love our land. Where else can a kid like me hope to rise the ranks? Your father paved the path, and you and your brother scaled mountains. Now I can, too. You all gave me the roadmap." He lowered his eyes, as the hand was withdrawn. The contact had been nice. He'd never had brother, outside his figurative 'band of brothers' but a cousin wasn't so different a thing to a sibling. It was more about the relationship dynamic than the way they were related.

Reiner was please to hear that Stefan would oblige him to exchange letters. So pleased, that he didn't altogether register what he said after that first half of the sentiment. Mid drag of his cigarette, after a delayed beat, he blinked and his eyes widened.

"Wait, what?" His neck straightened and his head tilted to the side, "I... I mean, if you think I could be of service here, and... Of course, with the leave of ZDC brass, I would love to stay! I would work so, so hard to make you proud, you have no idea." His hazel eyes were bright, but he wasn't smiling. Stefan's aura of woe was too stark, he it didn't brook the answer of a smile.

"I hope it isn't a shitty thing to say, Sir... um Stefan, but... Having spent the past few months down on the ground? It feels hopeless down there. Like you're standing on the Foundations of Decay. Like the last gasps of a dying thing, but comin' up here? Man oh man, this feels like life. Like hope. Like..." He shrugged a shoulder, bashfully. "The future."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Something inside Stefan clenched hard enough to make him want to sick up, but he turned his head away, feigning seeing something or someone in the crowd until he could control his face. He deserved no honor. What would this young soldier think if he knew that all the death and loss they mourned that day could have been prevented had Stefan Dornkirk not been selfish, not put his own happiness over his duty?

It was not a conversation to have out loud, particularly not with a practical stranger in public. The people who had flocked to him for safety would not react well to knowing that their danger was his doing. Eventually he would find a way to put other people, better people, in charge, Eitan, perhaps, but for the moment the people needed a figure head to look up to, however false.

The pause and the confusion after his offer prompted him to begin,

"It isn't an order, you don't have t..." Before he heard the rest of what was being said.

Who, exactly, was in charge of the State was a bit vague at the moment. The highest ranking member of the military would have been promoted to High Marshal, but it seemed that there were quite a number of people in both the ZDC and the ZADC who were of the same rank and none of them were stepping up to take command. At the moment intelligence was scarce and no one wanted to be the one to claim a rank only to find out someone who outranked them still lived. As Science Minister it looked like Stefan was the highest ranking surviving member of the civilian branch of the government, but he would be expected to swear his oaths to whoever eventually came out on top of what would inevitably be a struggle in the power vacuum.

At that time, any request he gave for personnel from either main military branch would be respected without question and anyone even noticing, let alone caring, that he had taken an unknown Private under his own command during such a time was inconceivable.

When he had been only the Manager of the Windworks, Dienerin had worked in the position of his private secretary as well as his manservant, a task for which the man was aptly skilled. When he had become Science Minister he had garnered half a dozen additional assistants to liaison between his office and the various branches of his Ministry. Some of those men were dead and the ones that weren't had been reassigned to other tasks within their wheelhouses. Having a young officer who could run his messages and work, knowledgeably, with the armed men in his service would be useful. Eitan had taken over command of the airmen and Order members but no leader had yet come to the fore with the ground troops, (if they could still be called such). So Stefan ended up dealing with each captain individually. The issue would need to be remedied with a promotion soon, but as things stood, a face between himself and them would take a lot off his plate.

"I am in need of a military secretary and liaison, it isn't glamorous work but much needed, I assure you."

Another nod, precise and worried was the answer to the assertion that things were bleak in the ground. Stefan knew it well, having spent the season since the disaster near to the center of the city. Perhaps, over time, he could open up areas of the ships as recreational leave areas where the fighting men of Zaichaer could find some relief and hope between missions. It was a thought he would bring before the council in once things were more stabilized.

He was about to say more but Dienerin arrived, standing unobtrusively off to one side but clearly wanting his master's attention. The nod Stefan gave the man implied that he knew what was awaiting him before turning back to the Private.

"Forgive me. I have things that must be seen to. Thank you for meeting with me. I would like to invite you to the Hall, White Knight Hall, that is. To my home, to meet my wife, as well as my brother and sister in law. Tomorrow, for tea? Good, I will have someone find you and see to any needs you might have."

When the invitation was accepted he nodded and offered as much of a smile as he could manage before stepping away toward his man and his duty.