Fasces [Brenner & Stefan Dornkirk]

[Brenner Dornkirk]

2nd of Glade, 121 Steel

The Zaichaer New Years exhibition had marked the conclusion of a brief tour of duty for Brenner Dornkirk on the dirigible dreadnought Searing Victory. After the gratuitous display of Zaichaer's military might, the airship returned to Onneifer Airfield and Commander Dornkirk attended a gathering at the stately home of one of the Air Defence Corps admirals.

Brenner was a social creature, and his sense of bravado demanded that he be seen drinking hard liquor and holding it as well as any of his superiors from older (albeit mostly less affluent) families. The young commander was fortunate enough to have a strong tolerance for spirits. Liquor loosened him up in a way he found pleasant, but he rarely lost control. He might not remember everything the next day, but when the stories were recounted to him he was rarely disapproving of his inebriated behaviour.

He stayed late at the fête as to get more face time with his esteemed host, but he wasn't the last to depart. A lot of the elder officers liked to see eagerness and ambition in their juniors, but too much could be cloying and Brenner believed that less was more in that regard. He took a coach back to Dornkirk Manor, and stepped inside a few minutes after one o'clock.

"Good evening, Master Brenner." The under butler bowed his head slightly, and helped the commander out of his coat.

"Evening, Mauerer." Brenner replied, with a thin smile.

"It is good to have you back home. The staff very much enjoyed yesterday's exhibition. His Lordship allowed us to step outside to watch your flyover."

"Glad to hear it. I assume everyone's in bed?"

"Your parents retired a little after midnight, but Master Stefan hasn't yet returned."

"Let him know I'm home when he does." Brenner instructed, "And have the kitchen send something hearty up to my room. The admiral was far more liberal with the libations than the hors d'oeuvres. Just... a sandwich, or some stew- Whatever's easy."

"Of course, Master Brenner." Mauerer inclined his head, and Brenner headed upstairs and made his slightly groggy way toward his rooms.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Having received invitations to every New Years party in the city whose host or hostess had any relation to either the Dornkirk business empire or an eligible young woman of good breeding allowed Stefan to move from one to the next without having to spend more time at any given one than would have required him to be more than passingly polite.

He lost count of the number but his faithful assistant-cum-manservant, Dienerin, (A few years younger than Stefan he managed to keep the details of his boss' life together with much greater success than the man himself) had been ready with the relevant names and family information for each new glittering extravaganza. Together they had managed to get in a Dornkirk representation at every fête that mattered, offend no one, and make no promises what-so-ever. They finished before midnight even, which gave Dienerin time to get home to his young family for the last toast. Stefan took him in his steam carriage directly, overruling his tired objections. The man was as close to a friend, outside of his family, as Stefan had. Barely one generation separated the Dornkirk family from a position below the notice of a man such as Dienerin, and while Stefan had been raised under the iron rod of wealth, he never forgot the fact.

After dropping the grateful man off he sat for a moment in the carriage before directing the driver back to the factory. It would be closed for several days to allow the employees time with their families but he had left several drawings and a slew of calculations in his office that he wanted to go over.

There were various and many more invitations for day-after parties and on into the first week of the year, many of which he would be required to attend, either alone, or with his parents, but he would have some time to himself to work. Being off work was more work for him than being allowed to do his job. He had learned to traverse the eddies of social obligation with grace and poise, but it had been something to learn. Brenner seemed to flow into it like a fish, or, more aptly, like a bird. The image of his brother soaring to ever greater heights brought a quiet smile to his face. The expression transformed him, putting shame to the fact that almost no one ever saw it.

He sat in his office for a few minutes before rolling up all the papers he and making his way back down to the carriage, and then, home.

The manor was never truly dark, but it was at least the dimmed of late night. Someone was always in the kitchen, and there were types of cleaning that were only done while the family was abed. Supposed to be abed. The under butler greeted him, not looking at all as tired as Stefan thought he must be, and took his coat. When the man tried to take his briefcase he shook his head,

"No, Mauerer, thank you. I'll just take these up to my office, I'm not ready to sleep yet." The man had the dignity not to raise a brow at the suggestion, merely nodded and said,

"Very good, Sir. Did you want anything brought up? It won't be any trouble, Master Brenner is having dinner made for him as we speak. He wished you to be informed of his arrival as well."

The servants knew the brothers were close, of course, they did, but most of them had either served his father since before he'd earned a title or were related to those who had. Stefan lit up, much like the house, in a lesser way than another might have.

"Oh. Well. In that case, could you have these taken up to the office?" He held out the case and rolled up papers. Mauerer gave a slight smile that very clearly said, 'Just as I thought.', and took the offered items. Just then a maid was seen coming out of the kitchen with a tray containing hearty portions of tea, toast, and a trencher of the cook's special goulash. Stefan hadn't been hungry but now, of course, he was. Stepping to several feet in front of the maid he gave her a polite smile and said,

"I'll take that, thank you." The girl looked confused, glanced to the butler, but then handed him the tray. Trusting Mauerer to explain, if such was required, he left abruptly. Taking the shallow stairs two at a time with the grace of a man raised on airships, he spilled nothing.

Arriving at the door to his brother's apartments he knocked once, as a servant might, and waited for his call before entering. Brenner sat facing his fire, back to the door, and waved a hand at the table near his elbow. Kicking the door shut behind him, and vaguely wondering if the maids did the same when they brought things, he stepped over the set the tray down. When his brother's voice informed him that he wouldn't need anything else and he could go he stepped just enough around to be seen and gave the little head-bob/duck that was a maid's curtsy.

"Yes, Sir. Will you call if you need anything else tonight?" His tone was soft, solemn, but his eyes sparkled in the firelight.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

When Brenner got to his apartments, an attending housemaid offered to light the fire and he nodded his wordless response. As the girl went about her work, the young man unbuttoned his shirt and took a seat in an armchair to unlace his boots. He waited for the maid to quit his presence, before baring too much skin, but when she was out from underfoot he removed the taut, constriction of his well-tailored dress uniform and replaced it with the smooth caress of a silken dressing robe- crimson, trimmed with black lace.

Tying the belt about his slender waist, Brenner padded over to a cupboard and removed a tumbler and a decanter of rich, dark whiskey. Removing the cap, he took in the smoky aroma of the aged spirit, before pouring himself a few fingers worth. The day had been long, but he found he wasn't ready for bed just yet. He swirled the amber liquid as his bare feet traversed the cold marble of the floor until they were embraced by the warmth of the fur rug that lay before the hearth.

He took a seat in a high backed armchair, and tipped a savoured sip of whiskey past his lips as he extended his legs hearthward and crossed them at the ankle. A satisfied sigh was loosed, as he placed his drink down beside a candelabra on the smallish table that sat between his chair and its empty twin. Ere long, a knock sounded at his door.

"Enter." He called over his shoulder, without looking and moved the tumbler to his lap as to free up room on the table for the tray of whatever the overnight cook had seen fit to send up.

"That will be-..." His eyes danced up to find it was no maid nor footman delivering his meal, but his older brother condescending to serve the younger Dornkirk. A grin spread across his boyish face, and he rose.

"You idiot." He chuckled, taking a few steps to close the distance between them to embrace Stefan with his unoccupied arm, while extending the one with the whiskey out to the side as not to spill any. "I was just having a nightcap. Will you join me?" He gestured back toward the cupboard,

"You're welcome to some of the food, as well." The cooks always sent up too much, and he didn't usually eat at this hour.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Brenner's grin was always infectious and Stefan shared it while they embraced. His arms went around the sturdy, taut form of his brother, nodding to the question as they parted.

"I will." Moving over to the familiar cabinet he made himself up a similar tumbler saying, "I hardly drank at the parties. If I'd had even one at each of them Dienerin would have had to pour me out of the carriage when I got home." Rubbing a hand over his eyes as he walked back and settled into the chair not already occupied. Tasting the drink, letting it's warmth combine with the warmth of the greeting and the fire crackling nearby he let himself really relax for the first time that day. Realizing that, having been gone for some weeks, Brenner might not be aware of the strain to his elder brother's schedule he went on.

"Or did our mother not inform you of the fact that I was to be shown off at two dozen noble houses this holiday like someone's prize heifer?" The Lady Sylana tended to keep her second son well informed of a variety of social details when he was away. Stefen didn't understand what use they might be in the maintenance of an airship, but he hadn't heard Brenner complain so he left the woman to her pen. He assumed that, before long, she would purchase a telegraph of her own so the letters wouldn't have to be taken from the house to be transmitted.

Taking another sip to wash away the evening he settled back, slumping down with his feet out before him as he never would where their parents might see him.

"I really wish they'd let us make friends with girls when we were younger, now I think I'm too old to learn how to speak to them." It was meant as a joke, though it didn't sound like one. His tone brightened as he turned to look as his brother properly,

"Enough about me. How was the trip? How's my ship?" It was teasing between them; Stefan thought of it as His ship because he'd designed it and had it built, Brenner thought of it as His ship because he flew, maintained and commanded it, mostly. They both knew it had been deisnged with Brenner in mind, as had several other contraptions over the years.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"I drank enough for both of us." Brenner chuckled as his eyes followed Stefan's course. "So I'll let you fix your own, this time." He let his head fall back against the velvet upholstery of the high-backed chair.

"I had to show all those old admirals that I've got the steely liver of a Zaicheri officer, so they'll take me seriously despite this baby face of mine..." He trailed off.

"Cheers." He offered mildly, lifting his tumbler lazily in Stefan's direction as he claimed the other chair. He took a sip, and watched the elder Dornkirk settle in.

"A glimpse into my future, I suppose, but my big brother is nobody's heifer." He smirked, wrinkling his nose and adding, "Maybe a gelded bull, but definitely no heifer. Anyway, I'm sure the competition is fierce. I know for the full tenure of your twenties father was banking on an Angevin alliance with you marrying one of the admiral's daughters, but now that we're richer than they..." His mind was too murky to finish his thought coherently, but he figured Stefan got the picture.

"Oh, you mean my ship? She's mint. I just wish they'd give her more to do. With the exhibition this morning, and the voyage I'm just back from, she feels more like a symbol than a warship sometimes. Not sure how I feel about being second in command of a great, big, shiny veiled threat, but that's kind of the deal, right now. They send her in to loom large and scare rowdy populations into submission, or frighten off would-be skirmishers around the border... Later this season, she's even set to greet the arriving foreign delegations, presumably to put the fear of their idiotic gods into them. Don't get me wrong- I'm proud as fuck to be posted there, it's a dream, it's just... Not the swashbuckling adventure kind of dream I had when we were back at the Battle Academy. Ugh. Growing up sucks, but..." He lifted his glass, "At least there's whiskey."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan knew his brother could drink him under a table and he was no light-weight himself. The admirals would be in a run for their money if they ever bet against Brenner in a drinking contest. He was fairly sure his brother hadn't be allowed any more alcohol as a child than he himself had, perhaps less, but somehow he'd developed his self-proclaimed steely liver.

He reached over and gave the baby-face a playful pat, just hard enough that it wouldn't be mistaken for a caress. "You'll grow out of it. I was in dispair of my own for near to ten years, but look at me now? The desire of every fawning mother from one side of the city to the next, if, not so far as I can tell, their actual daughters."

Lifting to the toast he drank with it, then choked out,

"Lusche!" At the veiled insult. He gave his brother a wry look that was spoiled by the looseness of the way he sat, "Then again, maybe if I was gelded they could put all this nonsense on your broad shoulders and leave me to do my job in peace." Turning so he could see his brother more straight-on he perked a brow.

"How about it? You take over all the Head-of-House social duties, the wife, the heirs, and I'll keep on with the finances and the business. You're better at all the fawning and making people like you anyway. The best I do is make them slightly afraid when I walk into a room." It wasn't entirely true, his employees thought well of him, his servants, it was only with his peers that he couldn't seem to find his feet.

He laughed at the disparaging description of military duty as he finished his glass and stood for another, "Or, you could bring the SV down over the parties I attend to 'scare the rowdy populations into submission', 'frighten off would-be suitresses'." When he flopped back down and stretched his legs out he kicked off his boots and let one of his stockinged feet rest against Brenner's bare one. "She'll be yours for true someday, you know that. Then you can take her on less tame adventures. Maybe I can stow away and make myself useful fixing things."

He glanced back at the food, trying to decide if he wanted to eat while he listened. He perked one brow at the mention of the Kalzazian diplomats.

"Right, isn't their prince, or whatever they call him, coming? I might show up for that, see how the fuzzy-wuzzies live with all their 'gods' and magic running wild. I heard he's part animal, or bird, I suppose, and he has a guard of wolf-men." The disgust in his voice was real, but so was the curiosity. "That can't be true, can it?"

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"I'm perfectly happy with our arrangement as it stands, thank you!" Brenner replied promptly and decisively. He was in no more of a hurry to marry than Stefan was, and he was quite content to not draw further attention to his bachelorhood in the presence of their parents. He envisioned it happening someday and, although he knew plenty of younger guys than he had started their families, it just seemed much too soon for Brenner. Families could be distracting. His parents and brother were distracting enough, without bringing a needy wife and grabby children into the mix. No, his career was paramount. Maybe after he'd worked up the ranks to captaincy, he could start to seriously consider domestic bliss. For now the notion was anathema.

"Honestly, I think you'd be happier with a proper companion to come home to. It's just the whole... Way we go about these things that makes it daunting. If you could just find some girl whom you meshed with organically, it'd probably be fine, but in our positions that just... Doesn't really happen. You remember what mother used to say..." He tilted his head, and spoke the axiom in Kathari:

"One must be a sea, to receive a polluted stream without becoming impure.” In common, he continued, "And the higher our family rises in this city, the more people will seek to use us for their own gain. It's good to be scrutinising, Stefan. Surely mother sees the wisdom in that." He took a sip of his drink, smiling against the glass as Stefan fantasised about another life where their paths fell along a closer parallel than in actuality.

"Wouldn't that be something..." He grinned, until Stefan spoke of the dignitaries.

"I'm afraid it can." He snarled slightly, as his eyes darted to the fire. "There are things I've seen in the skies to the North, that would chill you to your core. Whatever you're imagining? Scale it up. Their wingspans are bloody massive, and they aren't just... men with wings, they're bigger than humans. And impervious to chills that would turn a man's blood to ice. I've seen them soar blithely through blizzard gales." He shook his head,

"You should come, brother, but by the empty throne of the heavens, prepare to be unsettled."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

"Mother isn't really badgering me, yet. She gave me a list though, of 'acceptable choices'." A grimace took over his face,

"Can you imagine choosing someone to share the intimacy of your whole life with, from a list." He made a clicking sound with his tongue that was halfway between judgment and horror. A non-committal shrug followed the more heart-felt assertation that he could use a companion. It wasn't untrue. When Brenner wasn't around he kept his personal thoughts entirely to himself. Perhaps if he was allowed to grow a relationship with some level of organic connection, but, no, that would not be the case with any of the 'acceptable choices'. Not unless he broke rules. A notion which was becoming more appealing. The idea of breaking rules always seemed more appealing around Brenner.

"Perhaps, if I can finalize my new ship design, we'll rise so high no one can live up to Mother's standards and I won't have to keep pretending I want this. I'll have to show you the plans tomorrow." He sat up a little, mild tension returning to his shoulders, "Will you be here tomorrow, or are they allowing you only one night with your dear family?"

He finished his drink and was reaching for a piece of toast when he got the answer to a question he had believed to be rhetorical.

"You can't be serious? Giant bird-men?" His skeptical tone died away as he watched Brenner's face. He had spent some time abroad fighting ships in his five years of service but he'd never been sent on far missions or dangerous ones. Understanding the running and discipline of a military ship first hand had been important but he was under no illusion that his father had pulled strings to keep him out of any harm's way. He shook his head, biting into the toast with more vehemence than he would have a moment before.

"Broken-nature." It was a phrase used to describe the combinations of disparate things, and as a derogatory toward 'sentient' beings other than humans. "I wonder if their hearts are large enough to burst under the strain." Anatomy was something Stefan enjoyed studying, if it was True Nature and not the magic-twisted abominations that it seemed styled themselves kings in the north.

"I'd like to, even so, I really would." He took another bite and chewed it, thinking. "I think I could, it would be useful seeing for myself what we're up against. It's only a matter of time before they try and come for us." The belief was common, based on the knowledge that all magic tried to kill if it wasn't strictly controlled. "After this whole marriage business is taken care of, after they have their heir to raise, they might let me get away."

Stefan would have more personal power then, his major duties all fulfilled he could leave the raising of his children to his wife and parents. Not that he'd be given much choice in the matter, but it would afford him the freedom to really get into his work, to travel, with Brenner.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

"Choosing a mate from a list? Certainly not." His expression softened as he tilted his head and added: "A catalogue, however... With portraits, character descriptions, hobbies? Subscribe me to that straight away. Marriage is a business arrangement. Why pretend it's less any transactional than that?" He glanced down to the tray of food and broke off a piece of toast between his thumb and index finger,

"But whatever the case, it's good to be deliberate. You want a bride who's beautiful enough to serve as a complementary accessory at parties, witty enough to amuse but not ambitious enough that she might outshine you. A realist in her position. Ideally with a validating familial alliance at her back, and good, strong hips to squeeze out all the little Stefans and Stefanies." He grinned, dipping his chunk of toast into the goulasch and tipping his face over the tray to take a bite that ended up being messier than he'd have liked. He dabbed at his chin with a serviette and follow it up with a gulp of whiskey.

"I'd love to see your design, of course. And I'll be based here all week. They're finally getting round to the latest round of upgrades you sent along for the S.V. in advance of the summit, so we're grounded until all that's sorted."

"Well, they don't have beaks or aught that I've seen, but yes- Bird men. With, you know..." He gestured broadly with his tumbler, "Plumage and that." He nodded in agreement to Stefan's characterisation. "What rumours I've heard of their origins are, indeed, forebodingly eldritch. If you do decide to attend the event, make sure you pop into father's library beforehand and take a look through the Avialae chapter in Gereon's Gelerian Bestiary. Back in the Mother Country they know how to deal with bird men, I'll be bound, but here in the Fatherland..." He trailed off, "Well. Who am I to question the brass?" He cocked an eyebrow at Stefan's espoused flight of fancy.

"Is that all you fancy, Stefan? A vacation from the doldrums of the Windworks? I'm sure mother could arrange a week or so for you, if she thought it would help you focus on the matter of marriage.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

The urge to stick his tongue out at his brother wasn't strong, but it was present. Stefan snorted at the idea of a catalogue for potential brides, even if the idea was weirdly appealing. If his marriage was going to be a transaction why shouldn't he have more to go on than a list of family names?

He said as much, postulating that if there was a well-detailed book of the failings and virtues of his choices he could at least pick something that would be a good fit instead of stabbing in the dark.

Turning to join Brenner over the cooling food he listened to the suggested qualifications with a more attentive ear than he usually gave to his mother on the subject. The notions made sense but he sighed through his nose over a mouthful of food. When he'd swallowed he said,

"That's the problem, isn't it? I want someone I can respect, at least, if love isn't in the cards. But how could a woman I respect condemn herself to the loveless life of a useful breeding mare? The sort of woman who would want that, and the social standing it brings, wouldn't be one I could respect. So, out of respect for the women who deserve more, I'll have to choose someone I end up having to pretend to get on with."

He shrugged, it was a conclusion he'd been coming to slowly for a long time. The hope that there would be a woman out there who he could respect, work together with, who would bear his children but have things she wanted and that he could help her achieve too was fading as he aged.

Banishing the thoughts back to the house they were making in his head he brightened.

"I brought my work home, as usual. The plans are up in my office now, we can play with them tomorrow at whatever post-noon hour we decide that being awake is worth it." He sipped his whiskey and dug around the tray for an actual spoon, glancing up with a genuine grin,
"Are they? Finally! I already have a new set ready to go. I know they wanted the ship finished as quickly as possible but if Father had given me a few more months it would have been magnificent." He looked a little whistful briefly, like a boy filled with dreams.
"I'm glad though, the stabilizers should make your ride even smoother, and, when you do get into actual battle, it should curb the recoil's effect on steering. Have you been able to practice with the guns much?"

The further talk of the incoming delegation had him sighing again, in resigned disgust. "I really wish I knew what the government was trying to accomplish inviting them here. Sending diplomats there to keep an eye out and gather information, I'm all for that. Letting them in here, greeting them with honor?" He shook his head.

It was hard to keep in a darker mood long when Brenner was nearby, and after another bite, he joked,

"After we finally take down that abomination of a city we should get one for the drawing-room, like that awful parrot Mother tried to teach to Hail Zaichaer that summer when we were fifteen." Due to Brenner having been borning eleven months after Stefan they were the same age for one month out of every summer. "Do you remember? Bloody thing screamed almost the entire time. It was a relief to go back to the Academy."

Sitting back, hunger sated if not filled, he swirled the last swallow of alcohol in the bottom of the crystal glass. "Not all I want. But it would be nice for a season or a year. I do want to be at the factory, I was literally made to take up the work and I want it as much as Father wants me to." He meant it, he never felt as alive as he did when he was allowed time to purely create. He didn't mind the rest of it either, even the financial side. It all fit together like a well-made machine and directing it was something to look forward to, not dread. If Brenner did end up marrying and fathering the children that would carry on the family name and honor he would have been as near to content as he'd imagine he could be.

Lolling his head to the side so he could watch his favorite person he returned the question,
"What about you? Is a chance to ride Searing Victory into real battle the only thing you lack in this world, or are there other dreams in that gallant head?"