Umbra - shadow-
WIP, not edited, on-a-whim fic, probably never be finished. Or maybe in the future.
Brigandine fic. Vaynard/Brangien. In which Brangien is dead in the battle against Lyonesse.
The glass was empty.
It was full just a moment before, with liquor of pride, joy and ambition. How can it possible to bathe oneself in it only to have it gone in just an instant.
Vaynard looked at the glass in his right hand. His brain was trying to consummate the momentary happiness and adrenaline rush; he had conquered half of Forsena and he just won another territory for Norgard. He was two steps closer in unifying the continent. But his heart refused to take a sip of the contentment. He lost one of his knights.
No. He put the empty glass on the table and ran his fingers on the glass as he pondered at his thoughts. He lost soldiers before, but never one of his bravest knights. His annoyance was justified. Of course.
He took the bottle on the table and pour to his glass another drink of self-reassurance, not realizing what he needed it for.
"Don't go," he grabbed her hand. "Stay here. Don't go."
He woke up from a forgotten nightmare. He didn't remember what it was but his hands remembered being cold and shaken, which was strange since Lidney was always warmer than his hometown Flogeru. He looked at the palm of his sweaty hands and clenched it into a fist. He took a deep breath.
Brangien's body should reach Lidney that afternoon. And he would bring it to Flogeru, where she would have a proper burial, as a hero of war. Vaynard could never be prouder as a Lord to lead a funeral of an honorable knight.
Vaynard clamped his jaw tight when he saw Brangien's body. Everything came rushing to him: her strong, aiming eyes, now hidden behind closed lids, never be opened again; her hair dancing in the wind, now properly tied in a bun like every Norgardian female who would be buried; her challenging voice, ringing to his ears, making him smile every time she called him; her strong fingers, now clapsed on her stomach: fingers that scratched over his bare back two days ago.
And he remembered half of his unremembered dream.
"We're having an audience in an hour. Give me full report there, Elaine," said Vaynard.
Guinglain didn't miss an extra jaw clench on Vaynard before the words escaped the Lord's lips.
The advisor didn't say anything to the Lord until after they got back to Flogeru for Brangien's ceremonial burial. Everything was done fast because of the war state they were in. There were strategic meetings and domestic affairs to be handled while they were still on the capital. A few days after, Guinglain finally had the time to talk to his Lord, but he didn't find him in the chambers. He didn't give a second thought when he brought his feet towards the royal cemetery and find Vaynard there, standing in front of her tomb, next right to the previous king's.
"Your Highness," he called after giving Vaynard a long look, "it's cold."
"Guinglain," Vaynard gave him a nod with a frown that could be seen as a smile. "Yes, it is. We spent too many times down south..."
Vaynard gave him a silence as his head returned to the tomb, and Guinglain voiced the words that his Lord didn't want to say out loud, "Lady Brangien is in a warmer place."
"You think?" Vaynard gave a hearty laugh. "The princess doesn't like warmer places. She thinks it's for sissies. She would rather be in a harsh winter land, in furry coats that only give enough warmth."
Guinglain gave a smile, "Lady Brangien is a fighter."
"Yes, she is."
"You'll give her the win she has sacrificed her life for." Her life and her child's... he wanted to add. ...And yours...
"Yes, I will."
Vaynard eyes was full of determination. Guinglain can see Norgard on his eyes.
It was few months after Forsena is unified under Norgard that Vaynard went back to Flogeru. The castle was filled with celebration. Knights and nobles were gathered. They were chanting hails to the king and knights. Vaynard was with them, until Guinglain failed to find him amongst the crowd. As much as Vaynard hate parties, he would never leave the place of political and military socialization. He found him on the balcony of the King's chamber.
"They were talking about my plan of having consort." Vaynard snorted, a hint of alcohol under his breath. "While shoving their daughters in front of me."
Guinglain listened quietly as he leaned his hand to the balcony.
"I would have one and an heir." Vaynard said, looking at a place beyond the white surface of Norgard. "If not for the war."
Guinglain raised an eyebrow.
"A mare that took time to tame."
"The most beautiful horses are the ones hardest to get."
Vaynard gave an approving smile. "What do you think our child would look like? I fancy a girl, but princess had insecurities with female being an heir." He chuckled. "She would want a boy."
"If it's a boy he would be the heir of the kingdom." Guinglain's eyes met his king's as he said the next words. "If it's a girl, it would be the first female heiress of the kingdom."
Vaynard nodded at him. "That was what I said to her in my dreams too."
"You had dreams of her."
"Every night." He laughed as if it was amusing. "She never left my side, I had never let her. She was furious at first." He ran his hands through his hair. "After a while, she gave up."
"I don't know you were a romantic type, Vaynard."
"Remember, it's only in dreams right?" Vaynard playfully banter. "You know what's even funnier?"
"What?"
"That I am enjoying being her knight in shining armor."
They looked at each other and they laughed out loud together.
"Lady Brangien is turning in her grave right now."
"I know right."
There were tone of sadness on their loud laughters.
"We should visit her tomorrow."
Two shadows in front of Brangien's headstone made Guinglain made a stance to draw his sword as he followed his cautious King walking towards their destination.
Brigandine fic. Vaynard/Brangien. In which Brangien is dead in the battle against Lyonesse.
The glass was empty.
It was full just a moment before, with liquor of pride, joy and ambition. How can it possible to bathe oneself in it only to have it gone in just an instant.
Vaynard looked at the glass in his right hand. His brain was trying to consummate the momentary happiness and adrenaline rush; he had conquered half of Forsena and he just won another territory for Norgard. He was two steps closer in unifying the continent. But his heart refused to take a sip of the contentment. He lost one of his knights.
No. He put the empty glass on the table and ran his fingers on the glass as he pondered at his thoughts. He lost soldiers before, but never one of his bravest knights. His annoyance was justified. Of course.
He took the bottle on the table and pour to his glass another drink of self-reassurance, not realizing what he needed it for.
"Don't go," he grabbed her hand. "Stay here. Don't go."
He woke up from a forgotten nightmare. He didn't remember what it was but his hands remembered being cold and shaken, which was strange since Lidney was always warmer than his hometown Flogeru. He looked at the palm of his sweaty hands and clenched it into a fist. He took a deep breath.
Brangien's body should reach Lidney that afternoon. And he would bring it to Flogeru, where she would have a proper burial, as a hero of war. Vaynard could never be prouder as a Lord to lead a funeral of an honorable knight.
Vaynard clamped his jaw tight when he saw Brangien's body. Everything came rushing to him: her strong, aiming eyes, now hidden behind closed lids, never be opened again; her hair dancing in the wind, now properly tied in a bun like every Norgardian female who would be buried; her challenging voice, ringing to his ears, making him smile every time she called him; her strong fingers, now clapsed on her stomach: fingers that scratched over his bare back two days ago.
And he remembered half of his unremembered dream.
"We're having an audience in an hour. Give me full report there, Elaine," said Vaynard.
Guinglain didn't miss an extra jaw clench on Vaynard before the words escaped the Lord's lips.
The advisor didn't say anything to the Lord until after they got back to Flogeru for Brangien's ceremonial burial. Everything was done fast because of the war state they were in. There were strategic meetings and domestic affairs to be handled while they were still on the capital. A few days after, Guinglain finally had the time to talk to his Lord, but he didn't find him in the chambers. He didn't give a second thought when he brought his feet towards the royal cemetery and find Vaynard there, standing in front of her tomb, next right to the previous king's.
"Your Highness," he called after giving Vaynard a long look, "it's cold."
"Guinglain," Vaynard gave him a nod with a frown that could be seen as a smile. "Yes, it is. We spent too many times down south..."
Vaynard gave him a silence as his head returned to the tomb, and Guinglain voiced the words that his Lord didn't want to say out loud, "Lady Brangien is in a warmer place."
"You think?" Vaynard gave a hearty laugh. "The princess doesn't like warmer places. She thinks it's for sissies. She would rather be in a harsh winter land, in furry coats that only give enough warmth."
Guinglain gave a smile, "Lady Brangien is a fighter."
"Yes, she is."
"You'll give her the win she has sacrificed her life for." Her life and her child's... he wanted to add. ...And yours...
"Yes, I will."
Vaynard eyes was full of determination. Guinglain can see Norgard on his eyes.
It was few months after Forsena is unified under Norgard that Vaynard went back to Flogeru. The castle was filled with celebration. Knights and nobles were gathered. They were chanting hails to the king and knights. Vaynard was with them, until Guinglain failed to find him amongst the crowd. As much as Vaynard hate parties, he would never leave the place of political and military socialization. He found him on the balcony of the King's chamber.
"They were talking about my plan of having consort." Vaynard snorted, a hint of alcohol under his breath. "While shoving their daughters in front of me."
Guinglain listened quietly as he leaned his hand to the balcony.
"I would have one and an heir." Vaynard said, looking at a place beyond the white surface of Norgard. "If not for the war."
Guinglain raised an eyebrow.
"A mare that took time to tame."
"The most beautiful horses are the ones hardest to get."
Vaynard gave an approving smile. "What do you think our child would look like? I fancy a girl, but princess had insecurities with female being an heir." He chuckled. "She would want a boy."
"If it's a boy he would be the heir of the kingdom." Guinglain's eyes met his king's as he said the next words. "If it's a girl, it would be the first female heiress of the kingdom."
Vaynard nodded at him. "That was what I said to her in my dreams too."
"You had dreams of her."
"Every night." He laughed as if it was amusing. "She never left my side, I had never let her. She was furious at first." He ran his hands through his hair. "After a while, she gave up."
"I don't know you were a romantic type, Vaynard."
"Remember, it's only in dreams right?" Vaynard playfully banter. "You know what's even funnier?"
"What?"
"That I am enjoying being her knight in shining armor."
They looked at each other and they laughed out loud together.
"Lady Brangien is turning in her grave right now."
"I know right."
There were tone of sadness on their loud laughters.
"We should visit her tomorrow."
Two shadows in front of Brangien's headstone made Guinglain made a stance to draw his sword as he followed his cautious King walking towards their destination.