Passion Project

Victorian Coax

"So," Victorian began, glancing around his sister's study. He had seen it once before when she had first settled in but he could have hardly called it hers. All bare and plain, the space had been a blank canvas. Now, it smelled like her. There were echoes of her golden eyes and her cheerful disposition, stray projects and scuffles from the weeks that had passed. Thankfully, not too many had slipped by.

But more would. And she would grow and change, and so would this study. Perhaps she'd collect more books, or plant more flowers. Maybe she'd start storing various herbs or collecting feathers. And it'd all happen without him here. Or, if he did see it, he'd catch only glimpses.

It was bittersweet.

"What have you been learning?" Though the young man was not prone to smiling, he offered this rare expression of softness to his sister. Warmth glowed in orange eyes as he glanced over at his doe-like sibling. "Oodles of medicinal stuff, I expect?" An ear twitched as his smile widened somewhat, notes of humor in his voice.

@Florence

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This place still felt alien to Florence, even after some time had passed, but with her brother there, it began to feel more like home. She anxiously glanced about her study. It was still relatively impersonal, though she had begun to add some belongings to it as she grew accustomed to her new life at the college. So far, it was mostly rudimentary tinctures she'd concocted in her beginning medicinal lectures, but she also had a small but growing collection of stones she found nearby that she thought were pretty, and a book she'd loaned from a helpful professor.

She was still getting used to the rigor of her classwork. But she was pleasantly surprised that she enjoyed the confusion and chaos of a typical day. She was meeting others, and she was filling time she would normally have spent dwelling on grief or wondering what her brother was up to. Ah. Her brother. "What have you been learning?" It was a relief to see him standing there in the semi-darkness, to hear his voice, to smell his smell. It was comforting in a way she could not exactly put into words. "Oodles of medicinal stuff, I expect?" She grinned in reaction to his own: a smile from Victorian was something to be celebrated indeed.

"Oh yes, oodles and oodles," she said airily. "My day is so full of oodling that I do not have much time to anything else." Her voice was light, but her eyes were watching his face intently, soaking him in. She worried about him. "No, in reality, I am only on the basic stuff, and even that is way more than I've ever learned before. They aren't kidding around here. It's very 'nose to the grindstone.'" She paused here, trying not to jump to her real questions too quickly. She was known for her intense questioning of others, especially her brother, but she wanted to at least try to play it off casually. "Maybe one day they'll let me come join the army for a bit, offer my services in the field." Then, with a determinedly off-handed air, she asked, "What have you been up to out on patrol, anyway? Nothing too dangerous, I hope?"

Ah. There it was. The mothering that she could not seem to shake. She hoped she played it off well enough, because she didn't want him to know that she thought about him and his safety incessantly. But she did. And this was a rare occasion where he could skimp patrol to see her, so she had to ask.

Victorian Coax

"Oh yes, oodles and oodles," she began, her voice as light as dandelion fluff caught in a breeze. And, in that moment, it was bittersweet. He had missed the way in which she brought such levity to a room. Her voice was warm and airy, free to float like her musings and curiosities. If she lived in the barracks, she would bring such brightness to the otherwise dull doldrums of patrol. But, if she was in the barracks, then she would have none of these little stones, or that book casting a shadow in a corner. There would be lightness, not until evening when they were all afforded their evening meal and break.

"Wow I am honored you managed to squeeze me in," he teased, smile brightening in the artificial way that it did when he could feel her eyes searching him. It was a ploy to try and get her off of the scent of any disquiet, though today he didn't have any deep, dark secrets to share. His sorrow, if he could call it that, was simple. Soon he would have to leave again.

"Basic?" Victorian questioned, eying the book once more. "In something so big?" He could hardly imagine Flo carrying it around, especially with her slim shoulders.

As she tried to avoid interrogating him for deeper answers, he paddled along slowly behind her, happy to keep the lighthearted chit-chat. All too quickly, their conversations became real. Full of gritty things, worry over whether this could truly be their home, musings over mum and dad's grave... things that he wished neither of them had to worry about.

At the thought of Flo coming to the army, Victorian couldn't help but blink. A no danced on his tongue but he quickly diverted. "You're learning strategy? That's what fascinates you, Flo?" His voice was a tad incredulous, as was he. He had been under the impression that medicine was her fancy, but was she really pivoting to follow him?

It was a joke, right? It had to be. And, thankfully, it seemed to be. She knew his line of work was dangerous inherently, and all too quickly her golden eyes filled with concern. Father's eyes and their mother's face... "Nothing too dangerous," he assured. "I walk... and I walk. Sometimes I chase out foxes, other times I help replant herbs for farmers that had their wares trampled." As of late, he felt more like a groundskeeper than a soldier. "My unit is nothing special. We are assigned menial work."

Which likely would keep his sister happy, though he felt almost regretful. "General Kvothe keeps us safe. He's a smart man, one day maybe you'll get to meet him." Victorian smiled, perking up somewhat. "He fought... in the rebellion." He mentioned offhandedly, voice catching somewhat at the thought of all that bloodshed. They'd just barely managed to escape it yet the wounds of the land were so fresh that they were difficult to miss.

Whenever he wondered about the frail state of Rionnach politics, he couldn't help but feel transient. Should we leave? The thought echoed in his skull though he would never say it aloud.

@Florence

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They bantered back and forth in a way that was familiar. They were used to dancing around issues. Could she blame herself--or her brother--for this? It was more a defense mechanism than anything else. Bury the pain, smooth over the tragedy, blur out the jagged lines so that they resembled something halfway smooth. It was the way they coped. They'd had to do a lot of coping in their lives, but somehow, it had been manageable so long as they had each other. And yet... Having each other was growing less and less likely. Vic was off soldiering, and she was stuck here. Their passions had divided them.

She had only been half-joking when she mentioned going into the field. "You're learning strategy? That's what fascinates you, Flo?" "There's such a thing as an army medic," she retorted back, but her tone was gentle, because she could see that even the thought had disturbed him and she did not want to push. It was something she'd been thinking about, but mostly as a fanciful fantasy of a life where they were not so separate. What she really fantasized over was a life in which his safety was a fact instead of a dream. It was why his response to her question was so important.

"Nothing too dangerous. I walk... and I walk. Sometimes I chase out foxes, other times I help replant herbs for farmers that had their wares trampled. My unit is nothing special. We are assigned menial work." She tried to manage her facial expression to avoid any expressions of relief. She did not want him to think she was reveling in his lack of action, though she was. "General Kvothe keeps us safe. He's a smart man, one day maybe you'll get to meet him. He fought... in the rebellion." She was sure they both thought the same thing then. This was a strange world they had wandered into, full of politics and off the cusp of a coup. She had been trying to figure out the details of the landscape since she'd gotten here, but it was still so murky. "How does he feel about it?" she asked. "There is a lot of chatter here about King Adamh, about whether there will be an heir. Wolves are as divided here as anywhere. I try to stay out of it...but it's hard not to hear things."

Victorian Coax

A soft, sarcastic hahaha left his lips as she retorted, reminding him of the important role of doctors in the field. Who else was there to tend to the wounded left behind in the forests? Teeth could go too deep, glancing blows could wound the jugular vein and begin the steady, slow pulse of death. If it wasn't for the medical company kept in the army, many of them would be dead.

Or so he imagined. He had yet to need attention save for that one time when he had rolled an ankle. She had been older and weathered from the war yet kind... if not a tad haunted from what she had witnessed in the last year.

Although he did not doubt that Flo would do well, he hated the thought of her grimacing, her fur covered in blood. How would she handle losing a patient? Or treating someone in the middle of a battlefield with the din of war still on the horizon?

Thankfully, she didn't press him further.

"How does he feel about it?" Was her first question and Victorian found himself unsure. At least in this topic, he did not feel so inclined to veil his experiences or sugar coat things for his sister. In this, they were unified. There was no hop-scotch around his condition or health, no need to make her feel less worried about him. "I'm not sure." Victorian sighed. "There are rumors that he's related to one of the Stuarts, apparently the family of the exiled queen?" In truth, he was not too sure about all of this. It seemed so... excessive. So dramatic. His entire life, until this point, had been simple and straightforward by comparison.

"The other colonels don't seem to trust him, but he has never tried to sway me. He does his duty and rarely talks about anything else."

Victorian's shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Do you feel pressure here? To pick a side?"

@Florence

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"I'm not sure. There are rumors that he's related to one of the Stuarts, apparently the family of the exiled queen?" Florence frowned, noting the weariness in her brother's tone. It was not easy to forget the complicated politics that surrounded them. This was an intensely interwoven nation, and they had arrived in the aftermath of a very recent coup. They had had to acclimate quickly, and in doing so, she'd sketched a rough outline of what had happened. Of course, neither she nor Victorian had any idea where they fell on that spectrum, and their only desire was to keep their head down. But it was impossible to ignore the rumors.

She knew this exiled queen, Aileen, was a Highlander, and the current King Adamh was a Mainlander. Though his wife, Queen Daphne, was once a Highlander, too, and Aileen's sister. There was a prince in there somewhere, but Florence could not remember his name. He was the topic of much hushed debate in the College, that was certain. This prince...and the other nameless heirs that had not yet been born of the new king and queen. "The other colonels don't seem to trust him, but he has never tried to sway me. He does his duty and rarely talks about anything else." She nodded. "He seems like he knows what he's doing, then. You need that, young and inexperienced as you are." She was smiling as she took a few steps forward to nudge against his shoulder gently.

His next question was not wholly unexpected. "Do you feel pressure here? To pick a side?" "Honestly... I don't think anyone cares about my opinion yet," she said after a small pause. "I'm just a student, and we all sort of blend together. The other students talk, but they know how new I am, so they don't tend to ask, and I don't tend to volunteer." She mirrored Victorian's shrug, and then sighed. "But I feel it will be coming. Everyone is...tense. I don't think anyone who disagreed with the new king would be forthright about it, but...it's hard to say." She could not keep a hint of frustration from her voice. She and Victorian were at a huge disadvantage, being complete outsiders. Everyone else had grown up here; they knew the gritty details; they intimately understood the big picture and the small nuances the same. But Florence was scrambling for scraps while trying not to call attention to herself. She wish she didn't feel like she had to care so much...but it seemed so important. "I suppose if I had to pick a side, I'd pick the army -- and if I picked the army, then I'd pick the king, wouldn't I?" She said it more rhetorically than anything else, feeling it out. That would be okay. That would be the safe option.

Victorian Coax

His sweet sister was teasing him but rightfully so, and though he smiled, he felt a pinprick of nausea. He was inexperienced and he was reliant on Kvothe. When he was separated from his patrol, his mind would drift down one of two paths: either it would wander as it had before enlisting, or it would conjure a Highlander rebel out of every shadow and shaking bush. Shadow warriors comprised the bulk of the action that he saw, but at least they did not have teeth to bite with.

Her dilemma was a real one and he sympathized. In the army, feelings were fairly stark and clear cut. Of course, some whispered of dissension but most of the Highlanders and Lowlanders had been sequestered into fringe operations down in the south. Most others were staunch supporters of the king and harbored deep resentment for Aileen and her son. Victorian, by enlisting, had been pulled into that world and given a sword. He hadn't swung it yet, but if it protected his sister, he would.

"School has sharpened your logical reasoning, I see," Victorian teased and nudged her back as she filled in the space between the lines. "But jokes aside, it seems fair." An ear twitched and he eased onto his haunches.

"For now, shall we just choose each other?" His chin tilted slightly. "Too much pressure and we'll go, first thing in the morning, no matter the season." Amber eyes scanned the little den of his sister's. "But we'll try to make this work. So far, all things considered, it has been nice."

Nicer than their old home that, for all its simple comforts, had been a constant reminder of their loss.

@Florence

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"School has sharpened your logical reasoning, I see." He gave her the teasing as she dished it to him, in a friendly, familiar banter that was often only seen between siblings. Florence could not help but smile, even though in some secret place, her heart ached. She missed her parents. But most of all, she missed her brother, who, soon enough, would have to travel back and rejoin the army he had left behind on this brief excursion. She was grateful for every moment she could spend with him, but she was not stupid. She knew it was short-lived.

"But jokes aside, it seems fair." She mirrored him and eased down into a sitting position. "For now, shall we just choose each other? Too much pressure and we'll go, first thing in the morning, no matter the season. But we'll try to make this work. So far, all things considered, it has been nice." She was comforted by his words, and she nodded in agreement, feeling like choosing him was the thing she'd be doing for the rest of her life -- but she was okay with that. "Alright," she agreed, cementing the contract with an oath. "Each other, then." She smiled again slightly as she watched him. He looked so old to her suddenly.

After a long pause, she said, "Well. If you'd like, I can do something that is quite common for us unruly students around here. We rough and tumble folk who like to live on the path to danger, we rule-breakers and hooligans -- do you know what we do in our endless amounts of spare time?" As she spoke, she stood, walking to a darkened corner of her den. "We read!" she declared dramatically while pulling a book gently back with her across the floor. She sat primly in front of Victorian then and flipped open the pages. "Usually the books here are about our studies, but I've found a rare one floating around that is just stories. I like them, and you could use a break. Lie down." Her voice took on a firm edge to it. "Relax."

She carefully smoothed the pages painstakingly with her paw so that she did not rip the fine paper. She would have to return this one soon, but for now, it was hers, and she had a favorite story of dashing adventure on a dark and stormy sea. When she found it, she glanced back up at him to ensure he'd followed her orders. Then, with a small, dramatic cough, she began to read, "Once upon a time..." And together they drifted into another world.

-fade to black exit-

Victorian Coax

Unruly was not the word he would use for Florence, but then again, she did have an impish streak -- if impish was playing short-lived and poorly concealed pranks. Hiding books and giggling as he looked for them only to learn they were in her pile, saying she was going to bring back hare and coming back with a vole instead. Dastardly deeds really, it was a wonder she hadn't been jailed yet.

And as she returned with a book, Victorian couldn't help but laugh. For a moment, she seemed younger. Her golden eyes were bright with that quiet mischief he had grown to love. He could imagine that their parents were just outside, sunning themselves and enjoying the breeze. If he squeezed his eyes shut, he could even hear them talking. "Florence has a little white streak on her nose like you do," Renner would say, his deep voice like a comforting blanket around Victorian's shoulders. "And golden eyes like you," their mom would answer, speaking from memory. "Which explains why she's so idealistic."

...

His heart ached as he refocused on the book and his sister. She was no longer a bundle of black fluff with a white streak and white hind-legs. She was a student attending a college in a strange land, and she was reading to her brother who would soon be pulled away by the army's yoke.

At her order to relax, Victorian scoffed and shook his head but did as he was told. Long legs eased onto the dirt floor and Victorian laid his chin between his paws, shoulder against his sister's hip. Once more, his eyes closed. Although he appeared peaceful, like he was sleeping, both ears would remain perked to catch every word.

- exit victorian -

@Florence

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