A Knight's Valor (Luneiya & captain_bond)

Luneiya

Luneiya

Character Development & Romance
Joined
May 4, 2023
Crown Princess Isadora Justinia Marietta Alaisse of Carleone was nothing if not poised, the perfect princess. The only one who typically saw her in other states was her loyal knight, who now had the pleasure of listening to her tirade as she paced across her well-appointed chambers.

"Do they not realize that closing that trade route will only antagonize the dwarves further? How is the Gladefall Triumverate meant to promote peace if we're not treating our neighbors with the same trust we'd wish to receive?" She gesticulated wildly, a far cry from her polite smiles and well-mannered arguments in the council chambers. She was the crown princess, but still, it seemed she would be overruled. Her dark eyes flashed angrily, facing off against some unseen foe. (It was Councilman Anthers. It was always Councilman Anthers.)

The princess was pale of skin and dark of hair, like her mother before her. The late Queen Marietta Justinia Angielle Alaisse was much beloved in the Kingdom of Alliador, and both the people and their king, Isadora's father, took the loss harshly. Her mother had died giving birth to her, so Isadora never knew the great woman others so loved to compare her to. She would've liked to, though...

It had been a long day; the princess was still dressed in her formal attire from the council meeting. Her long straight hair was piled atop her head in an elegant updo, though she looked anything but composed now. Her lady in waiting really did a masterful job keeping Isadora's hair in place- somehow. Probably hearth magic. Isadora was a bit known for getting into situations a princess probably shouldn't: helping chase down a runaway horse and rider, participating in games in the village to boost morale, even managing to protect herself and her lady in waiting from an assassination attempt as her knight drove off the attackers. She was going to give her father a heart attack one of these days.
 
Ser Nolan of Carleone, the Crown Princess's personal knight and loyal friend and protector, tapped his closely-shaven chin, his dark brown hair slightly unkempt from wearing his helm at court all day. "Well, I would hope that the Dwarves realize that this is not your doing. Perhaps your father might persuade Lord Anthers of the error of his ways?" The knight pushed off from where he leaned against the wall, his armor rattling softly as he stepped over to where the Princess was pacing, and placed his hands, still clad in heavy gauntlets, on her shoulders, to stop her.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor, Your Grace. Besides, he's not worth it." Nolan's eyes were deep blue pools, and they were currently fixed on Isadora's face. The expression on his face held all the years of their friendship in a single glance, his trademark 'I got your back, no matter what' look. Gently he steered her over to a chair and sat her down, sitting in another that faced it himself. "It's not going to help if you fume over this. Take a deep breath, think a moment, devise a plan. Just like we've done a thousand times before."
 
Isadora sighs, "I can't rely on my father like that anymore, Lan," She says, switching to her childhood nickname for him, "I need the council to take me seriously. Besides..." She looks away, "I'm fairly certain my father agrees with Lord Anthers in this matter." The monarch wasn't supposed to show judgement or partiality while the council was still debating, but Isadora knew her father well enough to tell.

His hands resting on her shoulders soothed her, as they always did, as did his deep and calming eyes. She never knew where he got such peace. Even as a child, he seemed stepped in it, (except for, perhaps, his burning desire to be a knight.) It would certainly be more appropriate for a lady to be her personal knight, but when she had finally found a friend in the commoner, and he had expressed that his greatest wish was to be a knight, her knight, well, Isadora was completely taken into the idea. Her father could scarcely deny her anything, especially at that time, so he had the boy raised as her companion and guardian despite his ignoble status. Isadora knew he still kept her favor from all those years ago: her handkerchief embroidered with Blue Corella Lilies, her favorite.

She allowed herself to be steered to the chair, flushed features calming as she settled. "Right," She breathed, considering. The length and stress of the day wore on her, and she allowed herself to relax in the chair, leaning her head back. It was just Lan- and she was comfortable around him.

"I understand that Alliador is only looking out for its own best interests, but that's the problem. All the members of the Gladefall Triumverate are doing that, and in this manner, we haven't made any reasonable progress since the alliance's founding." She looks over at him, gesturing with her hand, "No one wants to be the first to give, just a bit, in order to ensure a more harmonious relationship." She sighs, "It's always sniping and backstabbing and trying to get the most for the least."

Isadora trusted Nolan's counsel completely. He had been with her through all of her lessons, so it was somewhat frustrating that he could not take a more active role in court. At the moment, though, he was more or less invisible. If she was seen to have an unseemly attention towards her knight's words, she feared he would be forcibly reassigned, and she could not bear the thought of that.
 
"Well, if that's true, then as the one who aims for a more harmonious relationship, you must be the first to give." Pulling off his gauntlets, Nolan went around behind Izzy's chair and started to rub her shoulders, as he'd done a thousand times before. "Izzy, there will always be others who will seek to advance their own agendas, even if it flies in the face of the common good. The trick is to learn how to make them think they're securing an advantage, while in reality, they're serving the common good. Or whichever other cause, but I'm pretty sure you'd feel bad if you tricked anyone into a self-serving situation." As his fingers worked deeper into her shoulder muscles, he gently pushed whatever parts of her dress were in the way off of her shoulders, but this he had also done before. But he found himself wishing, just for a brief moment, that the garment would fall enough to expose Izzy's breasts. Then the thought was gone as soon as it appeared, and Nolan was left wondering where it came from. They were just friends, after all.

Right?
 
Isadora lets out a frustrated noise as he says she should be the one to give in. "I mean, I would, but-!"

She stops when he starts giving her one of his famous back massages, melting further into the chair and allowing herself to be carried off to bliss. "Aahhhh...."

After a moment, though, his words make their way through her consciousness. "Maybe..." She says, thinking. "I just wish the council members would value goodwill and harmony. If they lose too much of it..." She tenses a bit, but his gentle shoulder rub gets her to relax again.

She presses her fingers into her forehead as she closes her eyes, trying to think of a solution. "I can't seem to convince them of this threat. It's too... immaterial... for them at the moment."
 
"So perhaps we should find a way to make it material. Even for them." The threat that has been gathering at the borders of the Triumvirate had been gnawing at Nolan ever since the first reports came in. "Remember that merchant that came in last month, his wagon burnt to a crisp? The alchemists have studied the debris, and they've found something. Something that the realm hasn't seen in a thousand years." He stopped his massage and turned to face Isadora, kneeling so that his face was on the same level as hers.

"Your Grace...there's no easy way to say this. The dragons have returned, or so say the alchemists. The King will meet with the war council tomorrow, then make an announcement to the public." He pressed his forehead to hers. "No matter what...I will never leave your side. I will protect you with every ounce of strength I have. As always, I have your back, now more than ever." The situation seemed to call for a hug, so that's what he did: he embraced his best friend, armor and all, not giving a single fuck about it.
 
Isadora looked at him curiously, ready to hear what he would propose, but not ready to hear... that.

As he kneeled, putting on his serious face, she felt her stomach drop. She knew it would be bad, and yet... hearing the words... she stopped breathing for a moment. The two had heard the stories, of course. Devastation across all the lands. The Dragon Wars were the darkest time in every kingdom's history, or so she had been told.

He snapped her out of it with his forehead pressed against hers. The motion seemed sudden, and was so unfamiliar that it startled a strange warmth in her. She looked into his eyes as he made his vow, feeling... strange. His words made her heart beat fast.

Thankfully, this unfamiliar situation was soothed by a hug. It's true that they hadn't hugged much since they were children, it wasn't really appropriate, but in this, at least, she knew what to do. She clung to him, scared, but also... still strange. Too warm, or something. But she did not want to pull away.
 
"The news is not as bleak as you might think, at first glance," Nolan said, still clinging to Isadora. "The Gold, Silver, Bronze and Platinum dragons have returned as well. They have been sighted in the borderlands, doing battle with their Red, Black, Green and White counterparts, so that their devastation harms no one else. Just like before." They'd both read the histories about how humans and the Elder Races fought side-by-side with Gold, Silver, Bronze and Platimum dragons against their evil counterparts in the Dragon Wars. Otherwise, the wars would've been over before they began.

"Hopefully, their efforts will hold them back long enough for Dragon Whisperers to emerge." The histories also told of special individuals, who could communicate with the dragons telepathically, since they lacked vocal chords and thus communicated with their mental abilities. "Now, we should try to focus on what we can control, rather than what we cannot. Would you like me to call in Lydia, so she can prepare you for a bath? Or perhaps you would like to try that new dwarven shower that was just installed? I swear to the Gods, they'll have indoor plumbing in the whole city by year's end, just watch."

He released the Princess, finally, and gently smoothed her dress, an excuse to touch her for a little bit longer before he stood up. "I've a feeling that your father will entrust you with informing the Civil Council of what we've learnt, which is arguably a more difficult matter than presiding over the War Council. If the King was childless, he'd have to do both himself. Regardless, don't underestimate the trust the King has placed in you. And me, for that matter. He knows how close we are, but he sees that as a strength, not a weakness."

Nolan truly felt at times that he had two sets of parents: the ones who raised him and, thanks to their son's relative prestige, lived in a small house inside the city walls, his father's forge in the backyard. He wondered how much of the needed war materiel for the coming conflict would be made by his dad, widely considered one of the best blacksmiths in Carleone. The other set of parents were, of course, the King and Queen, although he, too, wished he could've met Izzy's mother.
 
Nolan's voice soothed her as it rumbled through, and she was content to remain holding on as she listened to him talk. Her thoughts swirled around, fears and hopes mixed together in a knot that was difficult to untangle.

As he finally pulls away, smoothing her dress, she blushes, looking away. "Why now, though?" She begins to ask, but he was already pressing her towards rest. She had a tendency to spin and spin, and he a tendency to pull her back to the ground.

"Very well," She sighs, giving in to his suggestions to finally end the day. "You may call Lydia." This was all so much to think about, but she'd best be ready for tomorrow. Nolan was likely right that her father might expect her to take up additional duties on the Civil Council. He might be called to war discussions at any time, perhaps even in other kingdoms, so she might, at long last, get her opportunity to preside over the Civil Council. It was a daunting prospect.

She was, of course, trained in warfare as well, and would be involved in war council discussions as much as possible as the crown princess, just like her father would still tend to civil matters. However, she was unexperienced as a general, and the kingdom had enjoyed mostly peace during her seventeen years. During her father's time, the Gladefall Triumverate had not yet been forged, and it was due to both his military excellence and diplomatic skill that it had been. Her father was an excellent king and general, she reasoned. Surely, everything would be well?

Nolan's insistence, though, that the king saw their closeness as a strength gave her pause. Certainly, the king doted on Nolan, but would not the king think it inappropriate how they had hugged just a moment ago? He was fiercely protective of her. "Perhaps..." She says uneasily, still spinning a bit.
 
Nolan smiled. "Trust me, Izzy. Your father knows that we're stronger together." He thought about how the Civil Council might react tomorrow, particularly Councilman Anthers, and his smile curled into a smirk as he turned away from the Princess, thinking about the look on Anthers' face as he poked his head out the door and sent for Lydia. Closing the door again, he said, "She's on her way. Is there anything I can help you with, Izzy?" He stepped closer to his lifelong friend again. "I don't wanna leave your side just yet." The concern and worry was palpable in his features, as well as the deep affection he had for her. "If I was a woman, I'd be able to help you get undressed," he chuckled. Or if I was your lover, he suddenly thought. Wait, huh? Why did that pop into my head? Nolan dismissed the thought and waited for Isadora's response.
 
She looked up at him hesitantly, nodding a bit. She was inclined to trust his opinion on things.

As he left to call Lydia, she moved to the large window to bask in the moonlight and survey the familiar view. In her mind's eye, however, she saw their beautiful castle, their thriving town, their gorgeous fields, their verdant forests... all ash. Her brow furrowed, and she folded her hands in front of her waist as she often did when she was nervous (it was, at least a more princessly way to hide how hard your hands were pressed together in anxiety.)

As he called to her, she looked back over her shoulder to him with a drawn but grateful smile. Well, at least until he made that undressing comment. "Lan!" She scolded, blushing furiously.
 
"I'm sorry, Izzy," Nolan murmured in apology. "I guess I didn't know what came over me. And I know you're nervous, even scared." He had seen his best friend in all of her moods, both the ones she showed to the public and those she didn't, and he could tell what she was thinking. "The benefit of having more time to study the histories, rather than having to attend to royal duties, is knowing that before they slept, the good-aligned dragons helped rebuild after the last war. Their magic made the soil support life once again after forests were burned by the Red dragons, and farms poisoned by the Black and Green dragons. There is no reason to believe they will not do the same here." He slipped his arms around Isadora in another hug. "No matter what happens, I will always be here. And no force in the universe can change that. Understand? No force in the universe."
 
Isadora forgave him easily, smiling a little. As he drew closer, trying to reassure her, and finally embraced her, she slipped easily into the hug. "I understand," She says, heart lightening. He really did make her feel like they could do anything together, like everything would be alright. Her heart beats a bit rapidly in her chest, and she enjoys the pleasant warmth of his embrace probably far more than she should.

As she hears footsteps coming down the hall, she starts a bit, breaking away from their embrace with an apologetic smile. "That will be Lydia," She says, now standing at a respectable distance from him. "I'll see you tomorrow morning?"
 
Nolan smiled ear-to-ear when Isadora forgave him. "Izzy...I asked Ser Marbury to take the night off. The alchemists gave me a Potion of Rest. I drink it, and I won't need to sleep, but of course I don't make a habit of it. The recent news merits an exception. I'll escort you to the bathroom myself." Pulling his gauntlets back on as Lydia entered the room, he held out his arm, elbow bent. "Shall we, Your Grace?" His smile was still firmly in place. If she doubted his words that no force would keep them apart, perhaps this was his way of affirming them. Or maybe he just wanted to be close to her. Either way, he hoped she'd let him stick around, even if he had to wait outside when she took her bath or shower.
 
Isadora shook her head, "I'm fine, I promise," She says, "You should use the potion for something far more urgent than that." Her brow furrows, and she looks away, "I... have a feeling we'll have much more difficult times ahead." She places her hands on his shoulders, "So please, rest. Everything is fine for now."
 
"I have the same fear. Which is why we should enjoy the peace while we have it. But if you insist, I shall send for Ser Marbury." Nolan motioned for one of the sentries stationed in the corridor to go and fetch the other member of the Royal Guard upon confirmation of the Princess's wishes.
 
She nods, "Thank you."

As the door creaks open to admit Lydia, Isadora steps away from him a bit. "I shall look forward to speaking with you on the morrow," She smiles wanly, "It appears we'll have much to discuss." She moves over to her vanity to sit down so she can begin removing her hair pins while Lydia goes to draw the bath. Lydia gives Nolan an "I'm watching you" sort of eye before she does so, however.

Carefully, Isadora unfurls her dark hair from its bindings, brushing it out and applying an oil treatment to it. Lydia comes over to assist once she is done starting the bath, clocking Nolan's position in the room as she does so.
 
"Indeed, we do." Nolan bowed and exited the room, standing guard outside until Ser Marbury arrived. They each clapped the other on the shoulder in greeting but exchanged no words, in order to give the Princess as much quiet as possible. Nolan went through the castle to his quarters, which, should he have checked, were right below the Princess's. But right now he didn't care as he took off his armor piece by piece, setting it on a stand before disrobing and turning on the Dwarven shower in his lavatory.
 
Nolan had been right that her father wanted her to address the civil council. Everyone was understandably in an uproar about the news. The castle was abuzz was the gossip, and the king moved tirelessly from war meeting to war meeting. Isadora accompanied him to some, but in other cases, she tended to the duties he could not. It was her first taste of having full responsibility in some cases, and though she had trained for this her entire life, she still found the pressure a bit much to bear.

Councilors who had, shortsightedly, previously been willing to dismiss her in some ways were suddenly much nicer to her. She found their duplicitousness distasteful, but remained the perfect princess in their presence. Only privately would she celebrate her small victories with her most trusted friend.

She had worked through breakfast and lunch, and only with her lady's maid's assistance was she extricated from another meeting for supper. "The dragons will still be here in an hour," Lydia had scolded tersely (it was an informal meeting,) and with a bit of a wryness, Isadora had been freed from hearing the old knight commander go on and on about his concerns. He was getting a bit fuzzy in his old age.

Lydia, angel that she was, had set out her supper in her chambers so that she would not be disturbed. "For an hour," She told her, and made her promise, "And not a moment before." Nolan would have had breaks where he could be relieved if he so chose, but if he did not, Lydia mysteriously knew and had provided more than enough food for the both of them.

When Lydia finally left and it was just her and her knight, Isadora just slumped in her chair, staring at the ceiling. She was attired in her regal purple dress today, though her current state was anything but regal.
 
Nolan seemed just as unconcerned with propriety as Isadora right now. He pulled off his helm and let it clatter to the floor, slumping down in a chair next to Izzy with a loud sigh. "Gods above and hells below, this is a fucking shit storm, Izzy! But I gotta say, you weather it uncommonly well." His gauntlets joined his helm in being tossed lazily to the flagstones as he took his best friend's hand in his. "You'll be a great Queen someday. Any King Consort will be lucky to have your hand." And yet, I have her hand, right here, in mine. But that was folly! Clearing his throat, he asked her if she'd like another massage, then suddenly he stopped, as if in a trance.

Won't you hear me? Is anyone out there that can understand? I seek to enter the Triumvirate, so that I may pledge the strength of the Gold Dragons to the defense of personkind, as we did in ages past.

He blinked and turned towards Isadora. "Izzy...I think I might be a Dragon Whisperer. There's an ancient decree, never rescinded...if any member of the Royal Guard is revealed as a Dragon Whisperer, and a Dragon will accept him as its rider, that knight will be elevated to Lord Commander. I'm barely one-and-twenty, but I feel like...I'm sorry, I should be quiet and let you speak." He chuckled and looked expectantly at his friend, his Princess.
 
Isadora let out a weak chuckle as he voiced his frustration. She couldn't even think of eating now. She was too tired.

"Thank you," She replies to his complement. It was difficult work, and it made all the difference in the world for him to tell her she was doing well. She valued his opinion quite highly.

As he took her hand, she smiled fondly at him, her heart beating uncommonly fast. She blushes and looks away at his words, though. "Lan," she complains, embarrassed. Thankfully, he moved the topic on swiftly, and she was about to accept his offer when he froze.

"Lan?" She watched him in his trance, starting to get worried. Luckily, it did not last long. As he began to speak, she takes in his words, eyes widening. "What? No, you speak, Lan! What do you mean?"
 
"Okay," Nolan said, taking a deep breath and explaining what happened, reciting the Dragon's words verbatim. "I got the sense that I was hearing an ancient and powerful leader, and what's more is that I got the sense that he was who he said he was. It was said in the histories that the greatest Whisperers could not only hear their thoughts when they spoke them, but sense more subtle things, like whether or not they were trying to deceive. The Black Dragons sometimes tried to lure unwary Whisperers to their doom by pretending to be Gold or Silver and calling them away from their strongholds. Anyway, we must carry his words to the King. The Dragon does not wish to approach the border and alarm our forces, so it is best if we give him leave to approach." He got up and scooped up his helm and gauntlets. "Also, the histories said that that trance-like effect you probably saw was only present when a Whisperer first heard a Dragon in his or her head. Some had the misfortune of first hearing a Black, Green, White or Red Dragon. Those Whisperers didn't simply stare into space, but writhed on the floor in agony. It's said that a few of them were driven mad, but the majority were able to be put right by the Voices of the good-aligned Dragons."
 
Isadora is trying to comprehend this all at once. She throws in a few startled exclamations, but is otherwise content to let him fill her in. As he begins to rise, she does so as well, content to follow him out. "Of course... alright... My father shouldn't be difficult to find."

Realizing Lydia would be none too pleased with their swift departure, she at least takes a few bites of food as Nolan rights himself. Then, they are quickly away to find the king. "He shouldn't be too far... he is probably in one of the council chambers. Should we disturb him if he is in session?" If Isadora thought on this herself, she would probably come to some sort of appropriate conclusion, but she was clearly thinking aloud at this point.
 
"Aye," Nolan said, in response to her question. "This is of the utmost importance. In days of yore, the Gold Dragons sent envoys to the old kingdoms, just as they are doing now." Leading out of the doors of the Princess's chambers, Nolan quickly led his friend along the castle corridors, then when he saw one of the King's chamberlains, he hailed him down. "Begging your pardon, Neville," Nolan said, "but where is the King? I've a matter most urgent to bring to his attention."

Neville gave the Princess a slight bow before answering Nolan: "His Grace is in his chambers, having taken the opportunity to have supper alone." Nolan nodded. "Thank you, Neville. Go with the Gods, my friend." He clapped the other man on the shoulder before sweeping past him, arriving at the King's doors a few moments later. The Royal Guards posted on either side of the door recognized the look of urgency and determination on their comrade's face, and admitted the Princess and her Knight without argument.
 
King Simeon Reginald Delitoit Alaisse of Carleone was a man who looked carved from a mountain, though his chiseled granite features softened when he saw Nolan and Isadora. He had been sitting up at the small table in his foyer surrounding by a sea of papers, which looked to eclipse even him. He was idly picking at his dinner using a fork that seemed ridiculously small in his large hands when the two entered.

His thick brows raised up in his lined face, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. "Good evening," He said by habit, lowering the fork. His voice, though deep, had a gentle quality to it. He could immediately pick up on their unease. "Come in, come in," He gestured them forth, indicating a small couch and coffee table they should sit at. This certainly wouldn't be the first time they had done this, so Nolan should hopefully feel at ease.

The king moves towards the couch, giving Isadora's hand a gentle squeeze as the two sit down beside one another. "What seems to be the matter?" He asks the two of them. He could tell in an instant that something was serious. Isadora casts her gaze to Lan, willing him to speak. The king's gaze soon follows.
 
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