Quiet on the Home Front [Eitan]

High City of the Northlands

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Stefan Dornkirk
Posts: 413
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Title: Lord Dornkirk
Location: Zaichaer
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It was Stefan's turn to nod along, a frown of concentration marring his features. He had met with Lang personally, several times since he had first sent his young cousin as his courier to the Fort Commanders. He got along surprisingly well with the man, and they had rarely disagreed. Of course, some of their cordial relations certainly stemmed from the fact that they had been given very few choices for survival outside of working together and both of them had been focused entirely on that goal. Now that survival was almost a certainty, it was less certain if they would continue so, but not so much so as to worry the Minister. The good of the State was the primary goal of both men, and, Stefan believed, would remain so for the rest of their lives.

Jäger held an entirely different set of motivations, though he would have protested had anyone said so where he would hear of it. Every general, hells, every citizen, in and out of uniform, would proclaim their primary goal to be the good of Zaichaer. One of the things Stefan had lost since the disaster was his belief that most of them meant it. Perhaps the majority of those who remained meant it, and perhaps that was a silver lining to be appreciated.

Shifting minutely closer Stefan read back over his own notes as Eitan browsed them, one hand falling in thoughtless affection to his brother-in-law's knee. It was a relief that Admiral Angevin hadn't decided to fight him on his conclusion. He had a right to the position, as the only man of his rank to have worked since the disaster to try and preserve and protect all of what remained of their people instead of gathering a section of followers and trying to consolidate power. True power came with good stewardship, as it had come to Eitan, not the other way around. General Jäger would come to power via force if he thought he had a chance to succeed, and once he held the title of High Marshal there would be none left for anyone else until the inevitable coup. The power in Zaichaer did pass peacefully from one High Marshal to the next, sometimes, but rarely did a single lifetime pass without the upheaval of either a coup or some level of militant unrest in an attempt to replace the current leader. Stefan wanted better, he wanted something more stable. Hence his triumvirate government idea. It was like a child in his head, something to protect and nurture but something he hoped would grow stronger, in time, than the ones who had birthed it and outlive them.

"I'll talk to Delia, about speaking to Vonnegut. Once she is on our side, which I am certain she will be when it is explained that the alternative to Lang is Jäger, her endorsement will pull the other two Commanders away from any lingering ideas they had for themselves. That will be half the battle. Once Jäger himself sees that the Islands and the forts stand together behind the candidate he is most likely to accept, after himself, he'll at least weaver. Hopefully, that will give us the time for Reichart and you to convince a few others. We won't need many more before everyone will see the tipping point has been crossed and jump to our side lest they be the last one standing opposed."

Glancing around in the hope of tea Stefan saw none and sighed. Dinner time wasn't that far off and if he wanted to argue for as small a staff as possible now that the Hall was emptying as its extra occupants returned to the ground now that parts of the city were safe to live in again, he couldn't be always ringing the bell to have his whims indulged.
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Eitan Angevin
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Eitan nodded, his hand falling to rest upon Stefan's own upon his knee. He didn't remove it when the door opened and his Dienerin came in with a single covered silver tray. It was too late for a full tea, but a little refreshment was certainly in order before supper. Stefan's sigh seemed to have called; sometimes Eitan wondered if their manservants weren't secretly mesmers or semblers, but that wasn't something about which he joked.

"Thank you, Dienerin," he said as the valet made quick work of setting out the accouterments of tea, as well as small, light sandwiches of cucumber and cream cheese.

"Sir," he replied crisply, seeing himself out once he was certain his master and master-in-law were situated.

"Luca has been complaining that she wants a Dienerin of her own," he said with fondness. "A capable ladies' maid or secretary might be necessary. She wants to take on more work outside of the home, and I suppose Delia might as well."

Leaning forward, he poured the tea, preparing Stefan's to his taste. Eitan had long ago learned how Stefan liked things. But he merely left the saucer on the coffee table in front of the man, not pushing it into his hands. Leaning back, he edged a bit closer and rested his hand once more on Stefan's knee.

He had learned to seize upon moments of relative stillness. They were few and far between and needed to be enjoyed when possible.

"I can finally say without bravado that everything is going to turn out right in the end," he said, voice soothing and sure. He gave Stefan's leg a squeeze. "Due in no small part to your ceaseless efforts, my brother."
word count: 308
Mind is a razor blade.
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Stefan Dornkirk
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Title: Lord Dornkirk
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Character Sheet: https://ransera.com/viewtopic.php?f=43&t=1465
Character Secrets: viewtopic.php?t=4478

A minute part of Stefan still wanted to flinch when someone entered a room where he was showing overt affection. It wasn't that it was Eitan, he would have felt the same had it been Delia receiving his attention with pleasure, it was that any such displays had been punished in childhood. Even if he hadn't been specifically given a punishment, words, snubs and even changes in expression could do as much to damage a child's psyche as a slap or a beating. He had learned well the lessons his parents had intended to teach and now, as an adult, it was taking significant effort to decide which lessons were worth keeping and which must be discarded. More so to actually discard the ones which would not serve him.

As soon as he saw the younger manservant, he relaxed though, being fully comfortable to be himself around his own manservant had been something the elder Deinerin had gently fostered in him from the moment he had come into service when Stefan had been fifteen. The bubble of trust had extended to his cousin of the same name soon after he'd come on to provide the same service to Eitan. The Deinerins were part of his family as far as he was concerned, and so long as only family was present, he needn't curtail his affection.

Eitan seemed to feel the same way and they continued speaking of work matters while the tray was placed and set up for them.

When matters turned to the domestic he raised an eyebrow in surprise at what was being conveyed until the gender confusion was clarified. Delia had not yet chosen her permanent maid at the time of the disaster and the housemaid who had been doing the job now did it for both of the ladies. A proper ladies maid hadn't seemed at all an important concern in the time since. An outsider might have said the same about Stefan's man, but Deinerin did a great many things other than ensuring Stefan's shirts were mended and trousers pressed. In fact, he wasn't sure Deinerin actually did those things with his own hands anymore. He assured they were done, but with all else he did... Well, Stefan should really promote the man into the government position he already performed but... Well, having anyone else in the intimate position felt unthinkable. He would discuss it with his servant and let the man decide for himself, it was only fair.

Taking a sip of his tea and then drinking the cup off entirely as he realized he was quite thirsty he said,

"We should get proper secretaries for both our wives, they deserve them and certainly need them at this point. If women can be found trained as both secretaries and ladies' maids, all the better.

Stefan let his eyes wander down to the hand that had taken its rightful place on his knee but he was listening and processing more than seeing.

"Mmm," He hummed an agreement at first, quiet but sounding sure while his mind finished the last of it's deep thinking and returned to him the full power of speech. Turning his face back to his brother-in-law's he said,

"I think you're right. I know you are, though," A small smile, private smile gifted his expression, "I do rather like your bravado."

What that might mean, only they two knew fully, but Stefan let it pass without additional implication.

"Mine, and yours, and Delia and Luca, and every true Zaichaeri hand that stepped up to raise us, literally and otherwise. I only thought I was proud of my nation and her people before, Eitan." Shaking his head at his own youthful foolishness as he set his empty cup aside his eyes wandered away into the middle distance again.

"I worried, when it was worst, that we weren't strong enough to climb back out of the pit we'd been dealt. How wrong I was. We didn't even hesitate. As one we pulled ourselves out, hand over hand, bleeding and broken. Now we're healed, and standing back up. Cursed gods help those who have done this harm when we start to run again."
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Eitan Angevin
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Letters: https://ransera.com/viewtopic.php?f=105&t=2425

Eitan smiled, refilling Stefan's hastily drained cup. Having had no brothers of his own, there was a comfort when Stefan spoke to him with an elder brother's authority. From another man, he might have bristled, feeling as though he were being talked down to. From Stefan, this was not the case.

"Aye, secretaries, ladies' maids... but they may as well be valets, too. Valettes?" He changed his intonation slightly to indicate the feminine if such existed. "They both seem to vacillate between skirts and trousers, and I think they should be able to wear a man's trousers doing work most men cannot. If it suits them."

Lucrece's bottom was positively hypnotic when she wore her tailored trousers and moved. She was aware of it, too, the minx. When they actually disagreed, their conversations were quite calm and measured. There was fire in both of them, though, and so, on occasion, they fought more stridently over absolutely nothing. By now, Delia, Stefan, and the servants knew that it was nothing serious, each of them enabling each other's dramatic streak. They had already had one of their calm and measured conversations about how they might have to reevaluate that now Amalia and Brenner were alive and more siblings on the way.

Eitan had suggested boxing, and Lucrece seemed likely to take him up on it. For a moment, his mind wandered and a little smile curled the corners of his mouth. Letting her pound on him with padded fists would be well worth the sex that followed.

He reached out, hand cupping Stefan's cheek as he thumbed away a crumb of sandwich from his lips.

"My bravado is yours, Minister Dornkirk."
word count: 299
Mind is a razor blade.
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Stefan Dornkirk
Posts: 413
Joined: Sun Mar 28, 2021 9:15 pm
Title: Lord Dornkirk
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Character Sheet: https://ransera.com/viewtopic.php?f=43&t=1465
Character Secrets: viewtopic.php?t=4478

In short order, the request for a meeting with Lang, Vonnegut, and the other necessaries was arranged. It wouldn't even be noted as unusual since someone from the Islands went to meet with most of the generals every few weeks to work out supply handoffs and trade intelligence.

Confronted with a good deal of logic from Stefan, and a subtle nudging or patriotic fervor from Eitan, Lang saw their point of view. The General even saved them the trouble of having to suggest that they get things done before Jäger got wind of it by bringing up the fact himself. When they had looked surprised, Lang had grunted and asked if, because he was friends with a man, that must mean he was blind to his faults?

Put like that, they had no choice but to agree with him and be grateful that the sharp old soldier was on their side. Sort of on their side. Leaving the meeting Stefan had looked over at Eitan and realized that it was them now, the two of them and Lang, who were, in reality as of that moment, running the nation. There would need to be ceremonies performed and timetables set up for their official meetings. Each man would need to appoint a significant number of capable men directly under them to serve as ministers and administrators and whatever else the military and Order needed to run. Stefan had left a copy of his detailed notes and diagrams with Lang so the man would understand how the Civilian and Order structures would be set up. The military was already designed to be a hierarchy and likely would need little adjustment, though as more and more of the previous officers accepted Lang's ultimate leadership there would probably need to be some shuffling.

Stefan was pleased to be out of all of those decisions, though he imagined Eitan would have to deal with some of it as High Admiral. The duel position his brother-in-law found himself in would mean that he was, in fact, the most powerful man in Zaichaer, even if, officially, he was an equal third. It could be hoped that Eitan's relative youth and inexperience would be balanced by that additional power where, otherwise, certainly Lang and likely Stefan would have been given more weight in the choices that they would face as a triumvirate.

Delia worked her magic with Vonnegut, and it did seem like magic the way the two powerful women seemed to understand each other. Stefan did not use that phrase when he thanked her for it, of course, and probably didn't even think of it in those terms. His wife had accepted his praise graciously, with an air of pleased power that he was not used to seeing on her, though not at all opposed to it.

It was not until ten days had passed that she had finally explained to him the source of her new attitude. Despite the worry from some of her doctors that Delia might have difficulty conceiving again after the traumatic delivery of her first child, she was now quite sure that she was, again, with child.
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Eitan Angevin
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Location: Zaichaer
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Letters: https://ransera.com/viewtopic.php?f=105&t=2425

Eitan, for his part, was relieved that their gambit with Lang proved so easily successful. If he was jealous that he had to cede ultimate responsibility for the military, he retained leadership of the fleet, and retained a greater influence over men like Reichart than Lang would if push came to shove. And while he had often wished he could purge his Dratori blood from his body, it was the dynast's blood that most likely instigated his desire to keep ultimate power—even if tripartite—in the family.

Of course, if Orilla or Regan were alive, he might not be the heir of Angevin. Sadly, Delia and Lucrece, who were keen to take on more responsibility, would remain relegated to civilian office. Stefan could return to his commission and there would be benefits to an engineer being the supreme commander of their armed forces, but he would hate it and, ultimately, that was not something Eitan would push him to do.

In this, his youth was an advantage. He would certainly outlive Lang, and that gave him time to set up for Lang's eventual successor. Now that they were moving from survival to rebuilding and growth, it was even more important to see the long game. Becoming a father had something to do with that, as well, he thought.

Delia, too, seemed to be settling into her power. Some of it would always have to do with her association with husband and brother, and some might always be behind the scenes, such as her simpatico with Vonnegut, she walked Stefan through her case for a ministerial post of her own. As first lady of Zaichaer, the other women looked up to her and so she would be a template for the new Zaichaeri feminine.

It was only with family, however, that she showed her profound relief to be pregnant once more. This led to conversations with her husband, as well as family round tables regarding the role of women in Zaichaer. Of course, propagation of the populace would always weigh more heavily upon the women than the men, but that ought not to relegate them to baby factories or traditional employments. To shine, the High City would have to be more purely a meritocracy.

Stefan heard some of Lucrece's echoes, but Delia and Eitan heard them all. Much like a younger sister to Delia, she seemed destined to play catch-up. It wasn't terribly long after Delia announced her pregnancy to Stefan and family that she announced hers to Eitan and the rest. They were far enough apart that each should, hopefully, be present to help the other through childbirth, and otherwise would be able to commiserate as well as share what joys of anticipation they might feel in the coming months.

"But I want to continue my studies," she demanded with a pout, leaning into Eitan's side with her tea while he sipped a cognac. "When the Institute allows for more regular studies, I want more maths, more physics, and I want to understand the aether so I can better understand what you do, and what Stef does." The childish bratting was more of an act now than it had been when they met. It had been her childhood strategy for dealing with difficult parents, but she was maturing, due in no small part to having Delia in her life, though Eitan liked to think that he helped as well.

"There is no reason you shouldn't," Delia replied before Eitan could. "Women with sharp minds ought to have equal access to higher education so Zaichaer can benefit from their potential. In any case, we are fortunate enough to have help with maintaining the household and minding the children. Mother will never approve of how spartan we have become in our luxuries, but..." She sighed sadly. "While she and Grandmother have survived, I think they are beginning to feel their age, to fear impending obsolescence. Giving them leadership positions at the lodge has helped, I think, and so I would like to keep them there, keep them feeling productive and relevant for as long as they are able. I suppose we ought to schedule a family visit soon, however, lest her letters become illegible for being positively drowned in disappointment."

"One grows accustomed to disappointing Friederike," Eitan said with a smoky laugh.

"She likes me," Lucrece reminded him.

"Everyone likes you, my love," he reminded her with a fond kiss on the cheek.

"Except Stef," she said with a dramatic sigh.
word count: 771
Mind is a razor blade.
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Rune
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R E V I E W


Points: 10 each, not for magic

Injuries/Ailments: None

Loot: Plans

Notes: Lots done, lots left to do

Mod XP: None
word count: 51
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