Fasces [Brenner & Stefan Dornkirk]

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner actually chuckled at Stefan's characterisation of a wife's function.

"Well! I hope you've spared mother that particular concern." He knitted his brow as the humour receded in favour of genuine worry, "But... your woman needn't be put in so bestial a role as you describe. This isn't some northerly petting zoo! We are civilised human beings of Zaichaer, Stefan, and you must learn not to treat women as you treat the assembly lines at the Windworks." He paused, "There was another Gelerian saying I've heard mother invoke oh, what was it?" He clucked his tongue.

"Ah yes. 'It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.' Knowing the thing is a transaction, doesn't mean it has to be cold or unpleasant. It only means that you're both walking into things with your eyes open." His eyes trailed down to the food tray,

"But if you're terribly averse, Stefan, know that I will take up the family torch and set new fires. Even if that means I need to do so sooner than I'd have liked, I would spare you aught that confounds you so..." He trailed off, and sipped at his spirit.

"Don't hog the spoon, eh?" He cracked a grin, and let the gravitas float away like a dirigible as Stefan started speaking of the literal airship they had in common. It was a pleasure to watch his brother brighten at the talk of his passion. He got a look on his face that made Brenner feel like not so much time had passed since Stefan's designs were crude, fanciful chalk depictions that yielded chastisement rather than praise, for their placement on the brick in front of the townhouse they'd inhabited before the upgrade to manor living.

"Well, as my recent missions might suggest, the appearance of magnificence was clearly the most urgent concern at High Command, but... Honestly, Stefan, she's got more going for her than most ships in the fleet. You know what father says: 'Be diligent, be ambitious, be exacting, but perfectionism is another word for procrastination'." Brenner claimed the spoon when Stefan laid it aside, and took a few swallows of stew as the elder Dornkirk waxed political.

"I know." He said dabbing at his mouth, "In the Imperium, this sort of thing would never fly-..." He winced, "No pun intended." But it was the memory of the parrot that cause him to chuckle, rather than his unintentional quip. "Klanger!" He said through sniggering, "His name was Klanger, and I rather liked him. He never got the diction down, but remember how he raised his little wing in salute?" He shook his head, dabbing at the dimples yielded of his laughter.

"Anyway, sure. Of course I have other dreams. And for me, a family is actually a big part of that. Sons are a big part of that. When I think of the sacrifices our parents made to give us this life, and how much better our sons lives will be for our sacrifices?" He let out a prideful sigh, "My chest just swells. Right now we're just a rich, upstart family. But our kids? They're the ones who make Dornkirk a dynasty."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan chuckled along at the image of their mother hearing him say the sorts of things about his bride-to-be that he said to Brenner.

When his brother offered to take the responsibility of wife and family off his shoulders he wanted to kiss him, but he didn't. Partly because he couldn't accept the offer, partly because Brenner's mouth was full of stew and toast. His eyes misted but that was as far as he let the expression of gratitude go before he lowered his eyes and shook his head.

"I know you would." Emotion that only his man heard was clear in his voice for a moment before he smiled wryly. "I do want a family. I'm chaffing at change more than anything I think. I am worried about my choice but I'll just take my time, give it a real chance. It's not like they can hogtie me and force me to make vows..."

His expression morphed into one of credible mock concern, "You don't think Mother would actually do that, do you?" He held it for a moment then laughed,

"No, I'll find a friend. That sounds nice, really. For when you're away."

It took a tick for him to realize the implication might sound odd and, rather than correcting it, he made it seem intentional,

"I can let the young lady know the role of wife is only a part-time position."

Sinking farther down into his chair he frowned pensively.

"I'll see if Father wants to forgo his house duties in making an appearance for the arrival of the diplomats and let me attend in his stead. He probably will, and it'll probably be better if he does. Not known for keeping his opinions to himself, is he?" Raising one brow to make his point without looking away from the fire he sighed, partly from all the topics they'd covered, but also partly in relaxation. They could be talking about the impending breaching of the city walls and Brenner would still cause parts of him to let go of the stress they held. His eyes were sparkling with laughter again before he could finish any of his thoughts, however,

"Klanger! Yes, ugh. Awful thing, even if the salute was better than yours." He teased. Brenner's salute had been as intense then as it was now, though it had come off as strange on a boy. As a man, well, Brenner left no doubt as to where his loyalties lay.
Listening to his brother's plans laid out brought back the thoughts Stefan had momentarily set aside.

"Mmm, perhaps I'll take my time and we'll end up married close together and can bring our families up together. I'd hate to raise a lonely child, if there should be only one, for either of us, and cousins raised in the same house would feel like siblings." He didn't think he'd have survived his own childhood as an only child.

"And we'll get them playmates of both sexes, even if they have siblings and cousins."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner nodded, earnestly. He felt protective of Stefan in a way that felt more like the role of the older brother than the younger. Sometimes it did feel as though their roles were inverted. There was something in Brenner's older, taller, broader-chested sibling that bore a fragility. At least that was how Brenner perceived it. It was the part of Stefan that made him 'chafe at change', as he'd put it.

A smile pierced the stony grimace of erstwhile gravitas, and he shook his head.

"Of course Mother wouldn't bind you and force you to wed." He lifted his tumbler, "She'd make me do it." And he broke into peels of laughter as he toasted Stefan and sipped through a smile. When the sniggers subsided, their eyes met.

"Honestly, Stefan..." His silvery blue eyes darted sharply to the fire, and took on the amber and orange reflection as he drew his legs in and sat upright, crossing them and shifting the way the robe draped over his lap. "Family is paramount, but you'll need to let your new friend- whoever she is- be anchored in that, as well. She'll probably spend more time with your children, and you'll want her to take pride in their being Dornkirks." He wrinkled his nose, "I don't mean to be pedantic. You're not my cadet, you're my big brother..." He glanced at his left leg, draped over the right, and absently rolled the ankle in slow rotations, "So I'm sure it comes off more cloying than inspiring." But he always had more of their mother in him, after all.

"Well, I don't think the itinerary has been set for any of the foreign arrivals yet, but my guess is that I'll be stationed on the Searing Victory shooting confetti and streamers out of the ventral canons or some such nonsense. If that's the case, maybe they'll permit me to invite you for a ride-along, eh?" Brenner gasped, and clutched his chest in mock umbrage.

"You wound me, Stefan! My victory hail is nonpareil. I'll have you know, earlier this evening the Minister of Propaganda approached me about modeling for flyers after seeing the passion of my salute." Brenner let go of his feigned offence and returned his gaze to Stefan,

"I can't imagine I'll be that far behind you in starting a family. I haven't been far behind you since birth, so why would I start now? Besides..." He grinned, "I don't want to give you lot too much of a head start, or you'll claim all the glory before my boys are out of knickers."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

"It was always you she sent to find me and drag me home when I was avoiding my fate." Stefan didn't sound angry, not quite the opposite, but something near it. Being found by Brenner had at least meant that he wasn't facing his fate alone.

"I'll find someone worthy of our name, that I promise you. And, who knows, maybe she'll have a pretty sister and we can keep everything in a family way." The conversation was doing a lot to nudge the elder Dornkirk down the path of actually searching for a spouse instead of just pretending to do so. There were few things, if any, that Brenner could ask him, or even suggest that he wanted, that Stefan wouldn't immediately become more kindly disposed toward.

Lolling his head back against the cushioned chair he released a pained groaned,
"Don't tell me they would use the canons for such a thing," He held up a hand, "Even if they do it, don't tell me."

Taking the last of his second drink in a disgusted shot he let the glass rest on the chair arm. "It would be a better view from her deck, but I can just see Father calling their prince an animal to his face. I'd rather hold my dignity than have to lose it giving a state apology to that thing.

"I said his salute was better than yours. You've had time to practice since then." He teased over the last part of what Brenner was saying. When he realized what the end had been he burst out with laughter in his voice,
"Are you serious? Is my brother going to be a poster pretty-boy?" Glancing over with a scrutinizing gaze, "I suppose you are pretty enough for it with your baby face. I'd suggest you grow a beard, but it wouldn't suit you."

Picking his glass back up he held it out,

"Get me another drink, will you? If you do end up on the posters you'll have no trouble finding your liebste when the time comes. Every girl in the city will want to claim The Face of Zaichaer."

Sometimes Stefan wished the pair had been twins instead of almost a year apart. They could have moved in lockstep and their roles, indeed their lives, wouldn't be that much different. He had shown an aptitude for the family business as early as Brenner had shown that he was made for the military. The only difference would have been Brenner would have been the face of the family as well as the city.

"I suppose if you wait ten years or so after me we could arrange it so there was always a Dornkirk raising in the ranks, could make it a point of familial pride."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"What can I say? I was mummy's little agent of Geleros..." Brenner shrugged. Whilst Stefan was subject to the scrutinising eye of Melchior, Brenner had had the undivided attention of Lady Sylana. As much as he was a Zaichaeri patriot, he'd been indoctrinated very young to the notion of Gelerian supremacy. Everything he fought for in their city-state, was writ large in the Imperium. They were but a pale shadow of that mighty monolith that stood as an inexorable monument to what humanity might achieve in a world that often seemed stacked against them.

Glancing up from his reverie, he nodded. "I think the only reason they've let me off the hook this long is because they know my eligibility increases with my rank. There are some from the old military families who will see me as an upstart dilettante until I have my own command. Of course some won't even be satisfied by that, but we can only play the cards we're dealt..." He noted with a sneer. It quickly evolved into a wry grin,

"No! I was totally kidding about the Propaganda Minister." Brenner confessed, chortling as he uncrossed his legs to rise from his seat and took Stefan's proffered tumbler. "But I can't argue with your logic. You should honestly use me in the literature for the Windworks. I'd be happy to model the lovely dragonshard flight apparatus you gifted me, once it's ready for commercial production..." He said, casting his best dashing audition grin over his shoulder as he padded to the cupboard.

"The Face of Zaichaer." He repeated, grandly, as he freshened both whiskeys. "I quite like the sound of that." He placed the decanter back down, and angled it just so, before returning to the hearth and delivering Stefan his drink.

"Your spirit, Master Stefan." He dipped into a slight, playful curtsey as it was handed off, and then returned to his former position cross-legged in his armchair.

"Or I could start at the same time as you, and just make sure I pick a particularly fecund bride who's young enough to churn them out for more than two decades" He offered, placing his drink down on the food tray and taking up a piece of the buttered toast.

"But regardless of the future, at present I'm happy to be home and in your company." He absently toasted with... well, toast, and munched down on it as he pondered their lot. "So... When you marry, you plan to stay on at the manor? You wouldn't start your own household? Surely you've the resources by now. Your commission for the Searing Victory alone was doubtless enough for a comfortable townhouse, and that was years ago... Don't tell me you've taken to gambling." He chided playfully, finishing off his slice of toast.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

How the two might have turned out differently if they had each had the attention of the opposite parent was one of the many late-night speculations Stefan kept in his dossier for such things. It was, after all, quite late at night, but the thought could wait until he was in less interesting company.

"I don't think I could do much to increase my eligibility, as you put it." He turned to watch his brother walk past and over to the liquor cabinet. Brenner was certainly handsome enough to be on propaganda posters, advertisements, broadsheets, and no small number of bedsheets. Brenner wasn't like that, Stefan knew, and knew better than to say. Neither of the brothers had what most in noble society would call traditional vices.

The occasional trips to a brothel were to be expected, and really, happened rarely enough to be not even a blimp in their finances. Stefan had his work, and Brenner his career, they had each other, and their devotion beyond those went to family or city.

"Have you gotten much chance to try it out? I should probably be worried that you got the test device but I tested it plenty before I ever let you slide your arms into the straps." It had been thrilling, but more so because his original design had worked. Stefan was no coward, but nor did he seek out danger for its own sake.

"I bet you do." Was the wrying-teasing response he gave at the suggestion that Brenner genuinely appreciated Stefan's sarcasm.

The elder Dornkirk's smile as at the playful repeat of his own earlier joke was something deeper and warmer than it had been heretofore.
"Thank you, for my spirit." The tone of his voice ruined the joke a little even though he nodded his head as one would to thank a servant, then watched the lithe body make its way back to its chair.

"Fecund, eh? That should be one of the listed qualities in the catalog." His brother's contentment washed over, and into Stefan and he raised his glass in a return toast,

"Indeed. This is where we should be tonight, the world can stay out in the cold for a while longer." He tilted his head from one side to another at the question, "There are pros and cons to me having a townhouse. I would like it, but I also wouldn't want to uproot my family to move to the manor once our dear parents depart. Perhaps I'll get a few years to spend with my bride in a home of our own and then move back when we begin producing the all-important heirs?" He made it a question so he could get Brenner's opinion.

"As to the money, Father would give it to me if I wanted it but, for the moment, I spent most of my commission on the year-long development of your new toy. Dragonshards aren't cheap, you know." He sounded the opposite of resentful. "It was such a relief to create purely from the want of it without having to ask Father for money or make up a reason why the company should pay for it. Knowing you have it in case you ever have need is a relief of a different kind, even if I expect you to use it in acts of wild daring rather than for your preservation.

"The new fleet of smaller ships I'm designing for next year should be more than enough to afford a well-appointed townhouse. I've been offered commission to design a few yachts when my military work is done as well. I haven't discussed it with Father yet but I don't imagine he'll turn down the prestige, let alone the business."

He let his mind wander to the plans in his office for a moment before returning his full attention to his companion,

"We should go out tomorrow night, it's been half a year since we had time to go looking for trouble." The words didn't have the bravado that they might have from someone else, they were closer to longing, affection.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"That's right, Stefi." Brenner pursed his lips in a playfully patronising pout, "You can't increase your eligibility because you're just too perfect for words." His resultant giggle betrayed that the booze was starting to make him properly silly. Stefan would recognise this as a good sign that he wouldn't remember much of this conversation when he woke the next day.

"I've tried it a few times..." Brenner said of the dragonshard jetpack, "My most adventurous exploit was popping from the Searing Victory to the Noble Gambit in the middle of the night on a patrol mission. I gave him a proper scare, and then we had a quick drink before I shot back over to the dreadnought. And don't worry! It was just one drink. I promise I'm not being reckless with your priceless gadget..." There was only so much Brenner could do with the device, in its current form. He couldn't travel more than 300 feet without expending the Greater Pyrolyth dragonshard's charge for twenty four hours. "Have you figured out a means to extend the usage, yet?" It was still a very useful invention. It didn't quite grant the wearer the facility of an Avialae, but it could be a total game-changer when it came to the idea of boarding enemy vessels in mid-air. A very daunting prospect without Stefan's new tech.

"Definitely look for that in the catalogue, yes. Fecundity is, after all, an inheritable trait." He said with a wink, then listened to Stefan's thoughts on future living arrangements. He arched an eyebrow and looked sidelong at Stefan in judgemental expression that smacked of their lady mother.

"Worrying about uprooting your family to upgrade to a larger estate is a very middle-class concern, Stefan." He might has well have said it in a Gelerian accent for how much it sounded like he was as much as parrot as Klanger, only more successful in relaying Sylana's intended message. "Property is an investment that will serve the family as long as we keep expanding both in number and in wealth. Besides," His visage softened away from severity, "There's something in having one's own household." He shrugged one shoulder, "Maybe it's something second sons are more wont to concern ourselves with, but... With less to inherit, it's incumbent upon us to achieve more to call our own." He smirked, "Perhaps we'll grow so lofty I'll need to start a cadet branch..." He glanced askance and upward, pretending he was coming up with this notion in the moment, although he'd been pondering it for years: "What do you think of The House of Dornkirk-Stahl?" He let it hang in the air, as he imbibed some amber and let it roll over his tongue.

"Mm!" He emitted an agreeable sound, before swallowing the whiskey down to respond verbally, "We most certainly should... if you'll deign to leave work before the pubs close for once."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

"You should be helping me find ways to lower my eligibility so you get your pick of the litter instead, Brynn." Stefan wasn't anywhere near as deep in his cups as his brother, but he was far enough to be very mellow.

He listened to the mini tale of adventure with a set of appreciative hums before answering,

"I haven't, I've been busy. Before I gave my evenings over to working on such projects but now I have social engagements filling that time. I would like to see if I can get a duel, or multi-shard mechanism set up so the power needed is pulled from a rotation so that you don't run out, or, "He gave a conceding frown, "At least run out much slower... Much less quickly?"

His grammar was slipping and it bothered him more than it likely did Brenner.

"I would like my children to grow up with a sense of stability, is that so middle-class? Other noble families have had their children grow up in the same house for ten generations or more. Having the longevity of connection seems like something only afforded by the upper-class." It made sense to him, but a lot of the class distinctions were things he didn't understand. His time with his father as a child meant that you could set him down in a warehouse with all the parts of the Searing Victory and he could assemble them without schematics but his lack of time with his mother meant that he understood the 'what' of society, but not the 'why'. For the why, he came to Brenner. "I'll look into a townhouse, I know I'll want a place to get to know my wife and I would never be able to here. Maybe when your turn comes I can gift it to you for your bride.

"I think that sounds..." He considered with some degree of seriousness, "Strong, a little majestic. Very you. I like it.

"I'll make sure I leave before midnight at least, but I'm holding you to that! You're drunk enough to forget and end up with a set of fellow officers painting the town without me if I don't leave you a note, so, expect one. Or several." He murmured the last sentence under his breath, then waited a moment, considering his words before saying, "Should I set up our normal rooms with the Madam?"

Madam Sinnlich was certainly not the true name of the owner of the brothel they had come to trust over the years since they had first been dragged out by fellows at the Academy, but it was the only name she went by in public. Stefan certainly never hoped to see the corpulent and elderly woman in private. "I figure we'll start at the Ausgezeich Hotel for some dinner, make our way through whatever drinking establishments you've in mind, get into a fight or two, then end up in rooms we're at least familiar with?"

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"See, Stef?" Brenner nodded, impressed. "This is why you're the heir and I'm the spare. I should've thought of that, myself. Let's get you nice and fat, so I look even better standing next to you than I already do." In truth, Brenner was pretty jealous of Stefan's looks. He was taller, broader-shouldered, tanned more easily- Stefan was the real one who should've been a poster-boy for human excellence, except that Brenner couldn't imagine his brother sitting comfortably for a portrait of any kind. The idea of having his image plastered about Zaichaer would have probably confounded Stefan, where it would have titillated Brenner.

"I'm not complaining, in the least!" Brenner asserted, pointedly, "You know I love new toys- especially when no one else has them! And, even in its current state, it could give us a huge leg-up in ship-to-ship combat. We could even stand to commandeer enemy vessels without destroying them, and-... Well, you know how rare that is with our current tech..." He smiled faintly at Stefan's defence.

"No, brother mine, stability has its merits. But I hope our children have a broader idea of what it means than we've been afforded. The rich families I know don't seem any worse for traveling between their winter palaces and their country estates. Even the spares like me get our own modest townhouses in the city and free rein to visit the country and take rooms at our leisure. Wealth affords the most important type of stability, and the rest?" He took in a deep breath contentedly, "That smells like freedom to me." And sighed it out, pleased at Stefan's response to the nomenclature of his imaginary cadet branch. Surely their family had quite a few generations to go before concerning itself with such things, but a tipsy boy could dream...

"I'll remember, I'll remember!" Brenner said, with a dismissive wave of his free hand. Of course he had no way of knowing whether it was true, but Stefan knew blackout Brenner better than blackout Brenner. That was just true by definition.

"It wouldn't be shore leave without a bit of rutting, would it?" He grinned, "Make the arrangements, and I'll keep my evening clear after midnight."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

"Mother wouldn't mind you trying to fatten me, she says I don't stop to eat often enough. Dienerin sees that I eat at the factory though, even when I'm engrossed." Stefan had probably lost a few pounds since Brenner had last seen him but the younger Dornkirk was in no place to notice just then.

"Let's hope my marriage at least affords me the time to make more toys for my little brother." He winked, a sign that he wasn't as far behind Brenner in inebriation as the difference in their number of drinks might imply. "If I can get the brass to make an order for more of the packs it would also let me work on them on company time. I doubt that'll happen with the upcoming diplomacy ensuring peace. Unless it somehow goes extremely poorly?" The last was a question as he considered making something of the sort happen himself, but, as much as thrashing the Kalzasians would satisfy him, putting his brother's life in danger wasn't worth it.

"I suppose you're right, even the old families move from place to place regularly. I guess I just wanted my children to think of this place as 'home' in a way I wasn't able to. " He shrugged one shoulder to dismiss his emotion on the matter. Glancing over to see if Brenner had noticed his over-sentimental idea he realize that Brenner wasn't noticing much of anything anymore. Stefan's brother had a way of carrying on coherent conversation long beyond the point when he himself was finding anything coherent and Stefan was a pretty good judge of when the cut-off point was.

Heaving himself up with a reluctant grunt the taller man stood from his chair and stretched expansively before making his way over to the robed occupant of the matching chair.

"It's time for bed, dear brother mine. Come on, up you get." He reached out his hand, which Brenner grasped more by reflex than likely any intention of obedience. Slipping his arm under Brenner's, they walked together back through the open doors to the bedroom. The way his brother clung to him for balance brought a comfortable smile to Stefan's face as he managed to pull back the covers without topping them both to the floor. Pouring the boneless form into the bed was a practiced art for him by then, and he managed to do so without losing Brenner more dignity than he could stand to lose. Not that he would remember...

"There, sleep now, liebchen." He left the room briefly to fetch the water pitcher and glass from the other room to leave on the bedside table and then scribble a note on the pad left there for the purpose. Brenner was still trying to tell him something, something funny by the way he was giggling, but Stefan couldn't quite make it out between both of them being drunk. He sat for a few minutes on the edge of the bed, listening until Brenner seemed to be drifting off, then he stood again, leaning down to kiss his brother, once on the mouth and once on the forehead.

"Good night, blöd."