Courting the Enemy [Aurin, Reiner]

[Aurin]

"Honestly," he answered, "knowing I can retreat to Schiller and other forward bases should the mutants hound my tail would be perk enough. Hm, I suppose with the Bank of Zaichaer shut down indefinitely, currency might be an issue. All that is certainly negotiable, and if you need anything from the outside world, well, I can locate, acquire, and transport it to you. I don't have an airship of my own—yet—but if I do acquire one earlier in my plan then I might be able to bring you more."

Aurin had already planted seeds in Torin's mind about airship-building, figuring at some point, the genius of a runesmith would go all single-pointed focus on the idea and then Aurin would have an airship unlike any other. Of course, Stefan Dornkirk could provide him an airship as well, and they could come to some agreement about working off the cost, but he wasn't going to be so bold as to suggest it. He didn't know the man well enough to gauge whether he would respond with some knee-jerk reaction, didn't know if he trusted Aurin enough yet that it would feel like handing weapons to his enemies, even if he seemed well aware that Aurin was a resident of Kalzasi, but not a citizen.

"Who knows... perhaps when my feet cease to itch to travel, I might want to settle in Zaichaer." He smiled. Just because his first attempt to settle there had been a bust didn't mean a second time under better circumstances couldn't be better.

As the Minister was distracted, Aurin shook his head no at the offer of more food, then relented and allowed for a small second portion. He didn't know when he would eat so well before he got back to Kalzasi. All the same, it was rich fare. At least it would gird his loins for the drinking that was likely to happen with Kämpfer afterward. He decided he might ask for a bottle or two as an advance, then share it with Schönling and Kämpfer. It would be good to have friends on the Sky Islands.

He shot a mischievous smirk in Reiner's direction when he considered getting drunk this evening, then blinked in surprise.

"Valencia Grey," he said slowly after reading. He thought about it for a minute. "Pretty blonde. Met her on a trip to Zaichaer before the cataclysm. Huh. Well, glad she survived." He certainly seemed not to know what she wanted with him. And he didn't, though he wondered what the Mists she was doing in the belly of the beast.

[Reiner Dornkirk]

Stefan need not have concerned himself that Reiner might grow bored in his company. He was too on guard for that. Keeping conscious of his behavior at the dinner table in present company more dutifully than he did most evenings took a lot of focus. Besides, he’s survived growing up poor by being a consummate day dreamer. He’d had an entire vivid fantasy life as a member of Stefan’s nuclear family long before he was ever actually drawn into his orbit. His day dreaming has led him down the path that brought him here and he still hosted grand, if unlikely, designs for Zaichaer’s salient future and his place within it.

“No, thank you.” Reiner declined a second helping of food, though he did quite like the potatoes in particular. He didn’t want to come across as ravenous as he could comfortably be in more humble environs.

His eyes darted up from a hyper consciously small bite of buttery starch as terms of the impending arrangement between Kavafis and Dornkirk were broached. He considered the subtext. He was more conscious of such things thanks in no small part to Kuno, but also due to the nature of his work as a courier traveling in elite circles and carrying messages of great import and subtle nuance. Being a ground pounder hadn’t called for such attention to detail, but neither had it come with such perks, he thought, as he sipped his mulled wine to wash down this haute cuisine.

He caught an impish glance from Aurin, just then, and tilted his head a bit bemusedly but the moment was interrupted by a missive for the minister. The name Aurin read aloud didn’t ring any bells, offhand, so he returned his attention to the potatoes and forced himself to take another tiny bite. He even pretended to chew, though it was hardly necessary with creamed potatoes.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

The knowledge that Kavafis was associated with the Railrunners was not really a surprise, even if Stefan had not known before. The sort of professional life the man admitted to living said more than enough to suggest a connection from before The Fall. The coven of smugglers had been licensed, and that was enough for Stefan to know about them for the time being. He didn't like meddling with Order business any more than he had to. Discussions of restructuring had been part of the meetings of the Counsel, and he knew it was important to more specifically establish the Order as part of the government, and the Covens were a part of that, whether they saw it that way currently or not.

Pulling himself from these thoughts and back into the room where he was supposed to be hosting he nodded to the serving man who was giving him the specific look that asked if the end of dinner sweets and liquor should be brought. He was finished and it looked like Reiner and Aurin were close enough that they would be by the time the final course actually arrived.

"The Railrunners have been instrumental in obtaining certain resources to ensure our survival in this trying time. They have an office here on the Islands. I'm sure your escort could show you where if you'd like to visit."

The Covens did not call the spaces that had been allocated to their use 'offices' but it felt like the respectful thing to call where they worked.

"Those that prove themselves to be friends during Zaichaer's hardship will learn the value of our friendship when we are back on our feet."

Raising his glass, he toasted,

"May that day be sooner than our allies hope and our enemies fear."

Once he had drunk the server returned with a tray of candied nuts and other small treats, offering tiny glasses of a sweet, spiced liquor to go with them.

[Aurin]

"The Railrunners," he mused. "Huh. Well, I shall look up these offices on the morrow."

Aurin wondered how connected Valencia and the airborn coven collaborators were anymore. He didn't judge her for surviving; he didn't judge anybody for surviving. All the same, he would tread carefully this high up, lest he fall. He trusted her implicitly, but all the drastic changes since the cataclysm still had him nervous even if they hadn't seen him steering far clear of Zaichaer's ruins.

"I suppose they shall be helpful in me bringing things back to you in future, Minister."

At the toast, Aurin raised his glass respectfully, made eye contact with Dornkirk, Dornkirk, and even Dienerin, who was not partaking. The High City had been far from perfect, but if they didn't succeed, more people would suffer, and more children would grow up twisted as he was. The world didn't need more of that. He drained his glass at that, thinking the dinner would be concluded so the important man could get to his important duties, whether political or familial. But there was more.

He smiled bemusedly at the delicate treats and digestifs.

Oddly enough, it had been his mother who had taught him high etiquette. She knew how to blend in anywhere she might have to assassinate someone. This reminded him of her: the nuts, deceptively sweet; the spirits, deceptively spicy. He wondered if any part of her would be proud of him if she saw him now, though she claimed to have nary a maternal bone in her body.

"Minister," he said with a conspiratorial smirk, "you needn't wine and dine me so. I've already agreed to work for you." He wondered if Stefan Dornkirk ate like this at every meal while his soldiers were rationing. It didn't bother him; the powerful would always seek to maintain their power, and perception was a part of power. The people wouldn't expect their leaders to ration slop. Talon Novalys didn't eat stale bread while his people were starving.

[Reiner Dornkirk]

"Mm." No hum of epicurean pleasure, true or feigned, was this particular hum that vibrated the pursed lips of Private Dornkirk. Rather it was the sound of acknowledging the inconvenient truth that the missive that had apparently been important enough to interrupt the minister's dinner was from some witch. A Hexenfotze with sway enough to warrant such an intrusion when the veritable King of the Islands was receiving a guest, albeit an increasingly suspicious one in Reiner's hazel eyes.

When Stefan spoke favorably of the covens, Reiner with drew his hands from the table and took to straightening out his uniform. He didn't look down at it, but his hands were busy tugging his shirt down to kill the creases, then smoothing out his lapel, then his collar. Only when a toast was posed, did he reached for the stem of his glass. He would meet Stefan's eyes somewhat fiercely and, though he did his best to shirk Aurin's gaze, he still looked up for a brief second and met it. After the Minister's toast was uttered, he would respond auf Kathalisch lest anyone mistake which sentiment he drank to.

"Auf unserem ewigen Vaterland." He muttered and downed the now tepid contents of his cup just in time to have it replaced with a smaller glass of a saccharine, herbaceous cordial. He didn't partake of further foodstuffs as Aurin played the crafty coquette. Now that his other line of work was out in the open, Reiner could reflect on his earlier cageyness with the benefit of newfound context. He felt vindicated in his suspicions, though he hoped Stefan's savvy would keep him as a useful card in the pocket of Zaichaer, even if he felt like a precarious wildcard to Reiner's instincts.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

If Stefan had known what his cousin thought, he would have understood the sentiments. Both those concerning the Covens and those concerning the wildcard that Kavafis might turn out to be. Oddly, it was in learning business, not in learning politics, that the Minister had learned the sorts of tactics that allowed, even encouraged him to accept both seemingly unacceptable accords.

His father had taught him that, when making a deal, you wanted to give away only things that you could replace or recoup, the more easily the better, and you wanted to gain things that you either couldn't get otherwise, or which your opponent could not replace. That was how you won. The Covens, at least the ones that were allowed on the Islands, had been legal, and, as Zaichaer was not a fallen State, but merely in a transitional period, they were still legal. What's more, the wards kept the Islands safe, so, by allowing them to feel they had some effect on their fates, Stefan could use their power with little or no loss. They could not ensorcell his people, but because of their presence, he was able to get a good deal from them in terms of labor and acquisition in ways he likely could not have gotten anywhere else. Despite, or, actually, because of, the disaster that had befallen the nation the people were eating better than those in most other countries. Setting up the special aether farms with their Negation greenhouses meant that, once the Eclipse arrived, they were already set up to continue farming through Frost, however long it lasted.

As for Kavafis, if he brought Stefan information that kept Zaichaer safe, or gave it an advantage in dealings with other nations, whatever money or trifles he might request, he could have. Mists, if his well traveled information allow the State to enter into talks with other nations on a fair footing Stefan would build him a luxury yacht if he asked for it. Luxuries were, ironically, not as difficult to come by as were things that had once been taken for granted. Stefan would give up all the finery he owned in exchange for a restoration of the steady supply of metal or dragonshards that Zaichaer had once produced.

The thought wrinkled his brow but it was a problem for another day, so he cleared his face and tried one of the little candied nuts from the bowl the serving man had brought. Sweets weren't his favorite but he didn't hate them as some men said that they did. Some probably actually did, but it seemed a disproportionate number claimed that sugar was for women and children who couldn't handle the bitterness of life. In his experience, women and children were handed the bitter end of the stick far more often than men. Well, not in his Zaichaer, not while there was breath left in him to fight.

He waved a hand when the red-haired man suggested that he needn't be celebrated,
"You were an ideal host when we... When I was in Kalzasi, it is the least I can do to return your hospitality. Zaichaer isn't an uncivilized nation after all, it just happens to be undergoing a transitional period."

Repeating his thought aloud made him feel mildly clever and pulled his mind away from where it had tried to slip when he'd slipped, however slightly, and brought up his brother.

[Aurin]

Aurin engaged in the toast, and while he noticed the shift in the Schönling, he was confident he could recuperate his good esteem later while drinking with Kämpfer.

In the meantime, "Auf deinem ewigen Vaterland."

It wasn't his. He was stateless, really. But he could play nice with all of them.

After they drank, he only grazed lightly on the desserts. He wondered if he ought to pocket some for Kämpfer, who wouldn't be eating so well.

"I cannot imagine the process of working through such a tragedy, but transitional periods do have a silver lining. When everything is in flux, great changes are easier to make. It seems you are taking good advantage of that." He smiled. "Zaichaer is lucky that the man at the helm seems to be as talented a social and political engineer as an engineer of airships."

He raised the cordial in an unofficial toast at that. It might have been flattery, but he wasn't lying. Without Stefan Dornkirk, he imagined Zaichaer would be much more chaotic. The generals might already have moved in and begun infighting as much as fighting the mutants. He inspired loyalty from the rank and file like young Reiner. He was connected via marriage to the unofficial head of the Order of Reconciliation—that actually slightly scary Captain-Seeker.

Aurin hoped that once Zaichaer was thriving again, Kalzasi didn't fall into its crosshairs. While it was easy to take advantage of war from a financial standpoint, he had invested too much into both cities for them to threaten his investments, monetary and personnel. And he could understand their feelings about Talon Novalys. He was no god of justice insofar as Aurin could tell, but as long as he kept his patrician nose out of Aurin's business, he could live and let live.

[Reiner Dornkirk]

Reiner didn't feel like he had much to contribute to the current discourse. Not that he'd contributed terribly much thus far, but it was particularly difficult to navigate his position when it came to matters that made him uncomfortable. It wasn't that he thought he knew better than his well-educted, well-heeled cousin, but that he wondered whether those attributes kept his head in the clouds, as it were, on certain subjects. The late First Minister had already begun to ruffle feathers amongst the working human when he took on his little Lysanrin undersecretary and expressed interest in integrating the military with more alien elements. The Sky Islands were an abrupt, posthumous realization of Brenner's aims, he supposed and if magic was to be a bandaid to staunch the other wounds afflicting Zaichaer, he fervently hoped it was one that would be peeled away and burned in the fires of industry when those wounds began to heal.

These were among the thoughts that danced behind the eyes of the reticent private, along with his conscious focus on not downing the cordial like it was a sugary shot of the sort that maidens drank and men mocked. He found many of the finer things were softer, as well. It hadn't been something he'd thought much about when these things were at some remote distance... When he'd been in the gutter staring up at the stars and coveting their sheen. Now he was in the orbit of those same stars. Perhaps even a part of the same constellation but, if so, its dimmest dot to be sure.

His mind wandered to Kuno, and he found himself wishing, as he often did, that his anchor was present to moor him in these still unfamiliar waters. Even if he wasn't likely to make a show of disagreeing with the Minister in front of the foreigner, it would at least be a comfort to have a like-minded companion from a similar background there to nudge his knee and remind him that he wasn't alone in all the world.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

As the conversation and the meal drew to their close Stefan was of a mind to be getting back to his office. What he really should do was get back to the Hall so he could tuck his daughter in and kiss his wife. However, there had arrived on his desk only a few minutes before the meal had begun a dossier with the full report on the information that had been extracted from the odd magical ritual site that lay in the Warrens under the vortex still spinning over the city. Once it had all been gathered it had taken months to get it all translated and now refined into something he could understand by members of the Order. While he had been patient in waiting, now that he no longer needed to do so, he could feel the folder tugging at him.

The dinner had been important too; forming as many alliances and channels of information could be the difference between survival and failure in the coming years. But that task had been accomplished, at least as much as Stefan could do so for the moment, so he raised his glass one last time in a general salute to his dinner companions and drained it. Standing he said,

"Thank you both for joining me this evening, it was a pleasure."

To Aurin,

"I trust we'll be in communication again soon. I'm afraid I still have a good deal of work to get through before I can retire to my leisure so I will bid you a good night."

To Reiner,

"I will see you on the morrow, or, no, day after?" Glancing over his shoulder as Deinerin who had entered, silently as usual, to see the man nod in confirmation of the schedule. "Please see our guest is well taken care of, I trust him to your capable hands."

With this, the Minister laid his napkin on the table and departed by the door the other two had not entered by.

[Rune]

R E V I E W

Lore:

Points: 10 each, may not be used for magic

Injuries/Ailments: None

Loot: Aurin: Several bottles of nice booze in a tote bag

Notes: Stef didn't even realize this was fancy.

Mod XP: None