[ P ] reclaim your strength

LA.
fall on your sword...

The advent of winter marked four months since Argent’s withdrawal from active duty and retirement into the commonwealth. His body had shed muscle honed from years of training. Tasks that he had once breezed through now left him wheezing like an elder. It filled the once proud captain with shame at how weak he had become. It was a disgrace and it could not continue. He refused to submit to pain and let it rule him any longer. Gentle exercise only. The doctors had warned him when he was discharged from their care. It didn’t matter if he was gentle, his ribs would still ache and would never heal properly.

They had told him not to expect any improvement and warned him that it might get worse overtime. Lucky to be alive. He had heard those words enough to resent them. He didn’t feel lucky. He felt like a man whose world had been turned upside down. The loss of his mother had been the beginning of his downfall. From the bottom he had to climb, reaching for a new meaning in life.

Sod this. He started to run, breeze buffeting through arctic white fur, grey tail whipping behind him. The spray of sea splashed at his heels as he dashed along the edge of the coast line. The expanse of his lungs pushed against his fragile rib and a familiar ache began to burn in his breast. Faster. Faster. Adrenaline made him thirst for speed, urging him to push harder.

code by claerie

Kvothe Immortalis

Winter had crept quietly upon them, edging out Autumn in a silent, decorous exchange. It was a subtle change, but a significant, poignant difference. Trees that once clung to their last leaves now stood bare and empty. Pools that once ran calm and cool now whispered beneath a thin veneer of frost. Winds that once carried the promise of snow now threatened in earnest. In a way, it was humbling. No matter the scope of mortal politics, no matter the courtly intrigues or petty machinations, no matter the richness of the web or the complexity of the play...time wore on, and nature claimed its due.

It was Kvothe's fifth such Winter. He was old enough now, wise enough now, to appreciate the predictability of the seasons, to welcome the routine of nature's yearly cycle. He was also, as ever, a soldier, and a practical man. The onset of winter heralded a scarcity of prey that would be more likely to scatter any gathering resistance to the crown. As rebels and vagabonds were forced to contend with the matter of survival, they would be less likely to turn their energies towards rebellion. Kvothe was hopeful that enough time beneath the crown's rule would inure the recalcitrant citizenry to the weight of its yoke. Casting aside his own personal reservations surrounding the circumstances of his heritage, he was a staunch royalist, and would stamp out uprisings as they came...but that did not mean he took any joy in it. Better to foster peace than encourage dissent, and if the former meant that he must needs take a more temperate approach...well, few would dare gainsay him.

Save his father, of course.

But Orestes was well ensconced in Castle Stuart, far too busy - and too ill - to meddle overmuch in Kvothe's daily affairs. So, mindful of winter's implications, Kvothe had dismissed his company to far-flung patrol today, giving them a break from the minutiae of circular observation. He himself had ranged towards the beach, keeping closer to home. He walked out along the shoreline, pausing only as a blur of white and silver flashed along his periphery. Instinct caused his muscles to tighten, his head to lower - only for him to pause, the telltale scent of a fellow soldier soothing his trained suspicion. "Hail!" he called, his voice crashing over the rhythmic wash of sand-on-shore.

He tracked the running figure until recognition sparked in kaleidoscope lenses. He knew the male in passing, though had not had cause to interact with him directly for some time. "Captain Argent?" he queried, his brow furrowed in confusion. The last he had heard, the younger soldier had been discharged - ostensibly due to some sort of injury. But if that was the case, what was Argent doing racing along the beach like a yearling recruit on his first shore leave? He ran like a man possessed - or a man defeated. Kvothe wondered which the former Captain would admit to.

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LA.
fall on your sword...

The race was liberating, beneath the pain he could feel the ghost of the soldier he had once been in the strength of his limbs. It was a wild whim, a manic flight from the weight of his burdens. One that ultimately ended in regret and a painful reminder of why he was retired. Hail! A voice called out over the crashing of the ocean. He stumbled to a stop, panting like he was oxygen starved. The flexing of his ribs caused the bones to click and creak, sending sharp daggers of pain through his chest. Argent. You stupid fool.

His head jerked around when the voice called again, this time clearer and addressing him by name and rank. It was...Colonel Immortalis? Grey eyes registered the senior ranking officer with surprise and then the familiar shame flared up. He had made a complete fool of himself. A grimace caused his cheeks to twitch and his brow to wrinkle. Easing his breathing he managed to soften the pain flaring in his ribs enough to form a coherent word. "C-Colonel Immortalis…Uh.. It's a pleasure, sir," he huffed, still trying to catch his breath. He was mortified at their reintroduction. His fur was windswept, a chaotic mess of white fluff and he was breathing as heavily as a bear. Every inhale of icy air burned his lungs and left his mouth dry, flecks of drool clung to his tongue. If only the ground would swallow him up.

"Out on patrol? I haven't seen anything suspicious, sir. All seems well here," he reported as if he were still a soldier himself and then cursed himself for forgetting. "Ahem. I mean you should probably check in an official capacity…" he added, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. He could no longer make those calls as frustrating as it was. A slight frown lined his brow and the feelings of impotence returned. The Colonel was kind enough to call him Captain, but he no longer held the rank officially. He was just Argent now.

code by claerie

Kvothe Immortalis

His greeting pulled the other male up short - iron and ivory halted in place, lungs working like a bellows to catch labored breath. Kvothe bridged the distance between them, his pace regular and measured as he traversed the the rocky substrate. The ease of his motion, graceful and courtly, silk and velvet over impassive steel, was in sharp contrast to the jerky, halting motion of the ailing other. Recognition sparked in Argent's face at the same time that the Colonel spoke in specific inquiry. 'C-Colonel Immortalis…Uh.. It's a pleasure, sir," the Captain offered, his words breathy and short. Kvothe's eyes softened - not in pity, but in empathy.

"Likewise, sir Argent," Kvothe answered, dipping his head in acknowledgement even as his gaze lingered, assessing the other's condition. He could not help but admit to professional curiosity, especially as the male's recent injury had resulted in his dismissal from the army proper, but he was polite enough to meet the male's gaze after a cursory inspection. The brief flash of emotion on the younger male's face spoke volumes - any personal conversation in the vein of his injury would be both unwanted and unwarranted. Kvothe noted and acknowledged that truth - and was pragmatic enough to move on from it.

"Out on patrol? I haven't seen anything suspicious, sir. All seems well here," the monochrome male reported...and then he flinched, as if abruptly reminded of his position - or lack thereof. "Ahem. I mean you should probably check in an official capacity…" Argent remedied. Kvothe snorted lightly, his lips curled in a soft smile. "I trust your assessment," he assured the other, his voice firm. He was not of the opinion that a physical injury made a man (or woman) less mentally capable. Even if Argent had been deemed unfit for active duty, Kvothe did not think he was any less a soldier. "Though that does now leave me with a lamentable surfeit of time on my hands."

He glanced aside, his attention drifting down the seashore. There was no one else on the beach at present, and the empty expanse would have made for a lackluster patrol. He did not lament the lack of action; peace was never cause for disappointment. He turned back towards Argent. "Walk with me? I'd welcome the company, if it would not disrupt your routine overmuch." The invitation was an earnest one, though Kvothe's motivations were more complicated than his words might outright indicate.

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LA.
fall on your sword...

There was a certain stiffness in his posture at the approach of a senior ranking officer, and a slight dip of his chin to show respect to an authority figure. His stance was that of a well trained soldier prepared to receive his orders. It was a hard habit to break and when he relaxed his muscles and shifted his stance he found his pose returning to a soldier standing at attention. During his years of service he had heard the rumours flying around about Colonel Immortalis’ parentage and questionable legitimacy as a mark against his otherwise stellar military record. Argent was not one to listen to sordid whisperings and smear campaigns. He judged based on his own experiences and he had seen nothing that proved Colonel Immortalis was incompetent. As a commoner he paid even less attention to the scandals and gossip of the nobility. He himself had been raised by a single mother after she fell pregnant from a one night stand.

Likewise, sir Argent The colonel addressed him with respect due to a fellow soldier despite his retirement. His lips quirked up in a half smirk, pleasantly surprised by how much it meant to him. He felt the colonel’s eyes on him as intensely as fingers probing through his fur, anticipation fluttered within him expecting the inevitable questions about his health. The moment passed in silence and he felt himself relax that he wouldn’t have to talk about it. He was still grieving the loss of his career and struggling to come to terms with his injury’s impact on his capabilities.

I trust your assessment. It was gratifying to hear those words. He hadn’t expected to be taken seriously and even give Colonel Immortalis the option to continue with his patrol without embarrassing him. ”Heh.Thanks,” he gruffly murmured his appreciation, half smirk forming a complete crescent along his lips. Though that does now leave me with a lamentable surfeit of time on my hands. Argent lifted his shaggy head, one grey brow arching questioningly at his meaning. "Walk with me? I'd welcome the company, if it would not disrupt your routine overmuch. The invitation surprised the former captain. Only the Lieutenant Major had taken an interest in his company since his retirement. He had assumed that most would not want to hang around a washed up former captain, but Colonel Immortalis was full of surprises. ”No. I was just-” he began then stopped as an idea occurred to him. ”I’m not as fit as I used to be. I was trying to train, but it’s more difficult than I anticipated,” he admitted, concern creasing his brow. ”You can join me if you like. I could use some advice,” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders to show it was no big deal if he preferred to just walk and talk.

code by claerie

Kvothe Immortalis

A single, carefully cultivated brow rose in silent invitation, and the sardonic gesture offered mute commentary as to the other's intentions. A reflexive denial sprung, half-formed and swiftly aborted, on the former soldier's satin lips, carefully retracted in favor of an alternate proposal. 'I'm not as fit as I used to be. I was trying to train, but it's more difficult than I anticipated,' the monochrome other admitted. Kvothe's eyes were thoughtful, and he nodded in understanding - only for Argent to add, 'You can join me if you like. I could use some advice.'

The Colonel's eyes lingered on the former Captain's face, ignoring the ambivalent shrug that rippled across the other's shoulders. A flicker of approval warmed the violet-and-bluebell depths of Kvothe's tainted gaze, mirroring the faint smile that brushed across his lambent lips. "T'would be an honor," he replied, the enigmatic echo of the gentry ghosting across each winsome word. It was an accent - a habit - he had learned and earned in his earliest memories, and it was a difficult one for him to break. A moment of thoughtful silence followed his acquiescence, and he glanced down the line of the beach that Argent had already traversed.

"It seems to me," he began, "That you might wish to focus on building your stamina, as opposed to pushing yourself to achieve any degree of speed. Inactivity eats into the muscles' memory, and must needs be built anew. Speed will follow as a matter of course, but your training efforts will be cut short if you do not first work to regain some measure of endurance." He rolled his shoulders, stretching his back and legs, before straightening back up and glancing back towards the smaller male. He had not intended to lecture, but such was his nature - soldiers tended to follow orders more eagerly when they understood the reasoning behind them. Kvothe had never begrudged his Regiment questions, or withheld explanations when they were available.

"Swimming would not be a poor choice, if you find the water amenable," he noted thoughtfully, drifting naturally towards the rhythmic waves. He waded into the cool water with quiet purpose, looking back towards Argent with a quiet question cupped within his bicolored gaze. Though the surf was chill, the water was not so frigid as to be untenable, and Argent would doubtless find the added buoyancy helpful. Kvothe was no healer, but he was no stranger to injuries, and muscle strains and broken bones among the army were relatively common. He'd found this technique to be helpful before. "If you submerge up to your chest, and follow along the shoreline..." he offered, trailing off in open invitation.

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LA.
fall on your sword...

It was hard to relax his conditioned stiffness around someone who held a position of power and respect. Argent was naturally introverted, one who skulked and brooded in corners during parties and other social events. He imagined the opposite would be true of Colonel Immortalis. His noble standing required that he shouldered the burden of playing the polite and respectful host whether he wished to or not. He could only hope that the Colonel was not entertaining his own whims out of polite obligation when he’d rather be spent doing something more productive with his time.

The noble accent that accompanied Colonel Immortalis’ acceptance caused pointed ears to perk with interest. Argent’s gruff voice held none of the gaelic lilt that was popular among Lowlanders more affiliated with the north. His was more Mainlander common, the accent of a working man.

He listened attentively to the Colonel’s suggestion, taking it as seriously as if it had come from Lieutenant Major Swift herself. It was good advice and guidance, not that he expected anything less from a man of Colonel Immortalis’ experience. It was easy for him to listen to the lecture, head bobbing in understanding and taking in the information like a sponge. He didn’t mind being treated like one of the Colonel’s subordinates. It brought with it a welcome wave of nostalgia that made his heart swell.

The former captain followed Colonel Immortalis’ vibrant gaze to the sea, brow raised with intrigue. He was a strong swimmer, having spent many summers as a pup playing in the mirror lake. Swimming as a training exercise had never occurred to him, but the idea had merit. ”I played plenty in the water as a lad. My ma thought I was part fish,” he laughed fondly, pretending not to notice the heaviness of grief in his gut as he thought of her.

Argent began his own stretches, taking extra care with his forelegs so that he didn’t cause his ribs to shift. The run had done well to loosen his muscles so a short warm up was all that he needed. He dipped his paws into the water and waded over to the Colonel. ”Reckon I owe you a drink for this, sir,” he remarked, realising a moment after that the Colonel might not be a drinker and even if he was Argent wasn’t sure it was proper for the Colonel to socialise off duty with subordinates even if he was retired.

Deciding to leave that for the Colonel to puzzle over he plunged deep enough for the water to reach his chest with his paws still being able to touch the ground if he grew too weary to carry himself. With almost effortless strokes he was striding through the water like a newfoundland, allowing the sea to rock him gently as he swam. It sapped his energy far quicker than he would have liked and he grounded himself prematurely so that he didn’t start panting hard enough to cause his chest to ache. He managed to stay afloat for around five minutes in total. A time that was both embarrassing and capable of improvement. He felt comfortable enough to know that the Colonel would not judge his weakness and gave him a determined nod while he was at rest.

”It works better than running,” he admitted, pleasantly surprised that he wasn’t a huffing and puffing mess once again. It seemed that he could put in more work in the water and get more out of it.

code by claerie

Kvothe Immortalis

The monochrome male admitted to a certain affinity for the water, citing his background as a child. Kvothe's gaze warmed, but he had no comparable tale to offer. He had been separated from his mother relatively early on, fostered amongst the unclaimed castle brats until he had been old enough to join the army. His memories of his dam were sparse, his first attempts to swim borne of necessity and routine. Still, if Argent took some solace in the memories, if he had that well of experience to fall back on...surely it would only help to speed his recovery. Certainly he seemed amenable to it, launching into a spate of stretching that spoke well of his experience.

'Reckon I owe you a drink for this, sir,' the male with the mercury eyes offered. Kvothe allowed a quiet smile to bloom across his face. His answer was ready, easy; he had no compunction against a drink or two, especially if it was with someone outside the aegis of his own command. "I might just take you up on that, sir Argent," he noted. The Colonel stepped back as Argent entered the water, giving the other male enough room to maneuver. The sand dipped out from underneath him, forcing him to tred water along with the monochrome other. Kvothe was less adept than Argent was; his movements were functional and utilitarian, lacking the ease and grace of the former soldier. Swimming had always been a means to an end, rather than a means of leisure or enjoyment. He was a creature of earth and air; water and fire were his antithesis. He could work with them, manipulate them, function within them, but he was not connected to them in any way that fostered comfort.

He did manage to keep up with Argent as the other male cut through the surf. When the wounded male was back to full strength, Kvothe had little doubt that he would be hopelessly outclassed in the water - but today, now, they swam at an even pace. The difference, as Kvothe had suspected, lay in their relative degrees of stamina; Argent moved back towards the shore long before Kvothe had begun to feel the strain of the exercise, but the Colonel followed the male back onto the sands. 'It works better than running,' Argent noted. Kvothe nodded, well pleased. "I'm glad of it," he offered, shaking himself off. Water flung everywhere, and his fur was still left sodden and dripping. He would have to be sure that he was completely dry before he ventured back to court.

He cast an assessing eye over the other male. Words clung to his lips - warnings not to overtax himself lest he aggravate his injury, questions regarding his leave of absence from the army - but Kvothe let them die before he gave them voice. Argent was an adult - and more, he was an adult outside of army jurisdiction. He did not need a bastard Colonel prying into his private affairs. Instead, Kvothe offered the male another respectful nod. "I will be stationed near the barracks and castle for the forseeable future," he explained, "If you'd like a partner in your endeavors going forward. I often train during this hour anyways - I would consider it a boon to have a bit of company."

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LA.
fall on your sword...

Surprise flickered over his masked features when Colonel Immortalis expressed an interest in having a drink with him. It quickly melted away into a relieved smile, happy that he might be able to repay the Colonel for his advice. Argent had a feeling it would prove very efficient in regaining some of his former strength. The injury would always ail him, but if he could at least run for an extended period without panting then he would consider it a victory. He’d been considering taking on protection or security work so that he might still be able to fulfill his duty even in retirement. It might only be a small role, but for Argent it would be everything.

”I’ll show you the best place in the lowlands,” he promised, although he hadn’t been there since before the war. He hoped it was still open. He’d avoided most places that reminded him of who he used to be. His childhood home in the lowlands was still vacant and dusty. It wouldn’t surprise him if rats had taken up residence there.

Argent watched the Colonel as he swam, not as confident as the former captain was, but he was a strong swimmer nonetheless. He thought the man would continue his workout without him and yet again the Colonel surprised him by politely following him to the shore. ”Gonna regret getting wet when the wind picks up,” he huffed in amusement. The weight of the water clinging to his thick coat was the only downside to swimming. It would take a good hour or two of shaking before he was close to dry. He mirrored the Colonel and gave himself a good full body shake. Snow white fur spiked out like icicles down his neck and back while the grey locks covering his legs were slick against his heavy limbs.

He’d expected this to be a one off experience, but the Colonel seemed happy enough to implement it as a regular part of his routine. The unexpected kindness caused Argent’s gaze to widen, but gratitude filled their grey depths. He doubted that the Colonel knew how isolated retirement had left him. ”I’d appreciate that, Colonel Immortalis,” he replied, tone earnest and serious. ”I’ll try not to slow you down,” he assured him, aware that his injury might impede on the Colonel's training.

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Kvothe Immortalis

A smile was offered and paid in turn, a tentative bond of comradery found and forged. It was weak as of yet, a formless, fragile thing - but there would be room and time to grow and strengthen. Kvothe chuckled, the sound rare and rich and resplendent. "I look forward to it," he noted. It had been too long since he'd shared a drink with anyone; Kohl's death had deprived him of the opportunity for basic comradery. He could not, after all, force his presence on his subordinates in their off-duty hours; they deserved time for themselves, outside of the chain of command. His other options, however, were dismal. Kvothe took no joy in spending time with his father, and the remaining nobles played too many games for him to share easily in their company.

Though Kvothe did not often indulge in drink, he saw no harm in partaking every now and then. Certainly he did not forswear ale or wine the way some monks and women of the cloth did, but he'd seen first hand what over-imbibing could do. He had no desire to succumb to addiction and depravity - and so in this, as in all things, moderation was key. One drink would be well appreciated, whether it came from the lowlands or the high.

As they made their way to the shore, ridding themselves of the water that clung to their saturated fur, Argent offered a word of wry caution. Kvothe huffed in agreement. "Winter will take no pity on our new regimen," he agreed. He invited the other male to share in his training going forward - an offer that caused the monochrome male's to widen in shock. 'I'd appreciate that, Colonel Immortalis. I'll try not to slow you down.' It was an earnest promise, but Kvothe huffed, shaking his head. He dismissed the other's fears with a flick of a single pointed ear. "It is no matter. Truly, you will be doing me a favor," he offered. "Coordinating different aspects of your training might very well add variety to my usual routine - and having a partner in suffering will only serve as additional motivation." He offered a short smile, dipping his head. Injury or no, he did not see the other male as a limiting factor.

With a look to the sky, Kvothe sighed. "Alas, I must continue on my patrol." Witchcraft eyes glanced back at the other male, dipping his head in farewell. "Until tomorrow, sir Argent." He turned to continue his walk down the beach, sodden paws leaving dark tracks in the sand.

[Exit Kvothe]

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