isleofavalon | She was my woman

Entry tags:

She was my woman

🧙 WHO: Hendrik and Jasper
⚔️️ WHAT: Closed Quest
🕒 WHEN: February
🗺️ WHERE: Southern Beaches
⚠️ WARNINGS: NPC Death

[Hours pass. Jasper works throughout the day, gleaning clues from one person and another, researching evidence, confirming statements and facts, hunting and tracking and stalking human quarry through the southern plains. Truth be told, he enjoys the pursuit, the thrill of employing his wits. The fact he hunts a man responsible for shackling a victim prompts him to work hard - and he finds him within a moment of time. Stomping through the sands like his pathetic effort means anything.

Nothing means anything should the Lord of Shadows find his way to this place.

Clenching a fist, he watches from a distance and waits patiently, retaining enough of a sense of survival to work and demonstrate effort to his master, should that become reality. There is warm familiarity in watching the kraken's tentacles rise slowly from the water; memories of his own dear beast blockading and menacing a city to the point life stands still. He spots the pelt wrapped around the man's back like a cape - safer on his person than kept under lock and key. It is all he needs to see.

Their meeting begins as a cordial agreement but ends with a dagger to the back. He claims his prize and walks away, cruelly leaving the hobbled man to face impossible odds.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Hendrik had no intention of taking on a quest in which the possibility of murder was mentioned. Not initially, at least.

As it became more and more apparent that the selkie's plea was being read by many people, he changed his mind. If this plea was going to be heeded one way or another, he should at least try to ensure that an unnecessary death does not rise out of the request.

It is with that thought in mind that he takes his leave of the city. However, he doesn't makes it anywhere near the southern beaches before he spots a familiar figure. He tenses immediately at the very sight of the man, but is far enough removed from a combative situation that he doesn't draw his greatsword. Yet.]

[The open plateau of the plains spanning between beach and town make it easy to spot who walks around. Jasper notices Hendrik walking towards him and considers how his path leads towards the man. Granted, the tall and ungainly idiot cuts an obvious figure, but he stands at enough of a distance that their paths could easily wind around. Despite the enmity the two of them share - Hendrik standing in his way now and throughout his life - he regards him with a cold dispassion and attempts to give him a wide berth.

Ten yards. Fifteen. Twenty five.

The selkie's pelt is bundled under one arm as he uses his heavy wand to stake the earth. That they occupy the same area is not unheeded; there is only one reason they would travel to this place. Presumerably he might be interrogated under suspicion.

Oh, it makes him smile. It would be one of the few times his old friend is right!]

[Even as he stops to watch Jasper on his way, Hendrik clenches his jaw. It's obvious even under the bright light of day just what change has been wrought to his old friend, and it inflicts a cold depression inside him as he struggles with the questions he knew he could ask. He doesn't even retain the bearing of a knight, using a strange heavy wand in place of his more familiar twin swords.

But his eyes find a large animal-like pelt held close. It's enough to force words from his throat. Across the distance, he almost has to shout the question.]

Did you do the deed?

[Jasper halts his pacing.

The first words he hears are a question. The second an unspoken accusation. His inclination to a leisurely gesture is prevented by the pelt carried in one arm, his wand in another. It is not difficult to muster up the energy to smile. Pleasure and satisfaction not from the deed but for the emotions his friend feels towards himself.

Feet tread down grass as he resumes traipsing across the plain. Hendrik has always demanded answers with no inclination to offer them for his own question: why?

Come the end of the day, it is always about what pleases him.]

Oh Hendrik, do you never think good of anybody?

[The question in return leaves Hendrik speechless for a moment, and he clenches his hands into fists with seething hiss. What a question to ask.

No. He couldn't allow himself to be derailed by such a mocking question. After squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, he renews his glaring across the distance and pushes forward with the most likely scenario now that he knows of his former comrade's duplicitous nature.]

Where did you leave his body?

On the beach to be sure.

[Lies? Not particularily.

He should be straightforward with his words. But candor and sincerity hardly assist him in feeling good about himself. Deigning to look in his friend's direction, he offers nought but a knowing stare and an impassive expression. He lets Hendrik assume what he might from his admission and finishes it by twisting what he might assume.]

And may I say I left him very much alive?

[When Jasper offers a straightforward answer to that question, Hendrik again cannot answer right away, words unable to escape gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. He twists his body to look the way that Jasper had appeared over the plains, towards the waters in the distance.

Would he lie about the location of the body? Possibly. But that seemed to be the way Jasper had come from, and he had no other leads other than the mention of a freshwater kraken.

The question that Jasper ends with is met with a stern glare.]

I do not believe you. You would not have that pelt through peaceful means.

Edited 2021-02-14 12:53 (UTC)

[Jasper smiles at that. It is an answer very much expected. The predictability of it almost charming.

And though Hendrik catches his eye, he doesn't so much as flinch at that glare. One look from his friend is enough to intimidate knight and soldier alike, but today it only makes him laugh. One moment of mirth and disbelief. One second of frivolity - a disrespect for that deed done - that ends with his tone sounding the lightest its ever been.]

Hendrik, please. You would not believe me were I to remark the sun shines in the sky.

[Hendrik has to steel himself against that wicked smile. For all the monsters he has slain over the years, he only rarely encountered such remorseless demons.

But he doesn't draw his sword. No, as much as he would like to storm over and shake the man like a rag doll, his actions don't exist in a vacuum. So he lets his own negativity spill out.]

And whose fault is that, I wonder.

[He cannot help but wonder what he will find as he turns away to start towards the southern beach.]

Edited 2021-02-14 13:12 (UTC)

[Accusations. Allegations. Attribution of wrongdoing and admonishment of crimes. Jasper walks away from it all and has the good grace not to look back.

After sixteen solid years of being ignored one minute makes no difference. He secures the pelt beneath his arm and ambles at a slow pace back towards town. His footsteps tarry through the trail his old friend has trodden, stopping to pivot and turn on the urge to look over his shoulder. The desire to change course and return to the beach rooting him to the spot. His fingers clench and almost reach for the pendant he feels pressed against his chest, a dry voice calling out.]

Again, Hendrik?

[He cannot help but return. To a beach where there is nothing but footprints long since washed away by waves and spray.]

[The beach is largely silent save for the water lapping onto the shore. Hendrik loses track of time trudging up and down the beach until he's able to inquire to a passerby about the kraken that had been reported in the area. He ponders its absence as he continues his search, shedding his surcoat and boots so he can wade into the water.

In many ways, it is a mind-numbing search in which he barely thinks beyond his task. Keep searching. Keep looking. Surely there is something out on the beach. Surely there is something to be found of the man accused of imprisoning his unwilling spouse. Surely there is something to prove he once existed and met his end in service.

But questions inevitably creep in over time. How long should he look? How long can one do the same task over and over without payoff? How long is long enough?

How long until he gives up?

Deeper into the water. Up to his knees. Dragging his feet through the sands.

He stumbles as his foot catches on something, and he splutters in water made cloudy by his fall.

But something is there, more than half-buried in the sand. A scabbard.]

[The search that sees Hendrik shed garments and footwear is watched from afair; movements scrutinised and studied as they bear through water. The smile upon his lips slumps and settles as Hendrik directs his energy into his duty. Adrenaline pushes him into the ocean and thrusts him head over heels - filling his lungs with water. He hears nothing like spitting and spluttering but clearly witnesses the unmistakable shape of a sheath. One he recently learned was made of leather and attached to a belt.

He leans his wand against his shoulder to wipe his eyes, rubbing them clean of sand and dirt, a dry smile leaving his lips. His expression is now cold and severe - deep like the ocean. If he takes delight in the man leaving no trace he certainly doesn't show it.]

I am sure his family will be grateful for your kind efforts.

Edited 2021-02-14 15:00 (UTC)

[Hendrik bitterly thinks to himself he has had too many full-bodied soaks while fully clothed in too short a time as he finds his footing and makes his way out of the lapping water. Removing his boots and surcoat are a small blessing in an otherwise gloomy situation.

A situation made even gloomier by the mysterious arrival of his former comrade.

He tips the scabbard to pour out the water still trapped inside it, jaw set as he tries not to be distracted by Jasper's presence.

But the water saps at energy and anger alike, and he cannot raise his voice with the same ire of a few hours ago.]

Your continued mockery is unwelcome, Jasper.

[Though the response is distant and indifferent it is acknowledgement. Jasper's eyes skip over the figure of his friend and the body of the ocean, and his thoughts wonder towards how far they are from home. Towards matters more personal than the body of a foreigner disappared from the shore. He inspects his nails while waiting for Hendrik to emerge from the surf. Mockery in actions if not words.]

Oh, you are far too swift to judge.

[After a few more moments, he looks at his old friend with unnatural red eyes.]

Going to accuse me of bloodshed and butchery again, are we?

[While it rankles fiercely that Jasper continues to speak, Hendrik's mood is dampened by the situation and his current waterlogged state. He says nothing as he marches further away from the water and over to his shed belongings. Without heeding Jasper, he sets down the scabbard and proceeds to wring out his drenched long-sleeved shirt.]

Is that why you are here? To laugh as I accuse you?

[He finds it difficult to summon up an annoyed tone, so his voice falls flat. He seems to have come to a realization as well.]

...No. I will not accuse you of killing him.

[Jasper looks at Hendrik for a second - eyes coloured with more than hatred and envy - in a search for answers and understanding. The emotion passes by with thoughts he shall find neither. The change in his demeanour is noticable. A boiling resentment that narrows his eyes and curls his lips.]

I am accustomed to you being speechless, frankly.

[He is already familiar with being ignored. Why should he feign surprise?]

[Speechless? Yes, that is probably his most common reaction to a situation like this. Frustration and anger and lashing out. Things he has not had to think about in a long time.

But he has had a lot of time to think in between attempts to stay busy.

Hendrik makes an attempt to scrape some of the sand off of his feet before pulling on his boots again. The walk back to the city will be made more uncomfortable with sand in his boots, but he does not want to spend more time on the beach. Gathering up his surcoat, greatsword, and the scabbard, he starts off to leave the beach behind him.]

[Hendrik does not so much as glance towards him. In fact, he refuses to acknowledge he exists, his path taking him further away with every step. He clenches his jaw and bares his teeth. Curls his lip and balls a fist. Imagines Hendrik stiding down the palace corridor, dismissing him meeting after meeting, availing himself of his intelligence and putting him back in his box. He stares after him long enough that he misses the sound of the ocean and begins venturing a few steps forward.

Seeing Hendrik's retreating back, he finds himself clenching his fist and putting his best foot forward. Once, twice, thrice, four steps at a pace, breaking into a sprint at seven and eight. The pelt he had pulled and prized away from its owner is discarded, no longer worth its weight as he pulls his wand out in plain view and brings it down overhead.

Angry enough to bring violence to bear. Bitter enough to find no love for his actions. Unstable enough to find nothing wrong in attacking a friend when his back is turned - behavior he abhorred at one time. Ignored. Shunned. Ostracised. There is no other way left to communicate, right?]

[Hampered and gloomy as he is, Hendrik is not so far gone as to completely ignore years of battle experience. Though he isn't given much time to think on what is happening, his body reacts to those quickened steps from behind, arms unloading both surcoat and empty scabbard and lifting up his greatsword.

His weapon, still seated in its sheath, is more than capable of acting as a shield against the incoming wand, and he hisses as he fends off the blow. With a grunt, he shoves forward, intending to push his former companion away and put distance between them again.]

Is this what you learned from your master? Striking a man from behind?

[Jasper stumbles forward and anchors his weight to the floor. Hendrik's sudden movement throws him back, leaving him to watch as he walks away with barely a word. From anyone else, the criticism would be easily dismissed, but hearing it from his old friend brings a whole new meaning. A mournful loss and an appeal to memory. It holds him in suspension long enough that he finds himself spacing out until he exhales an angry breath; and he stares at Hendrik's back for a moment, stunned by his audacity.

He finds it impossible to settle into calm and finds himself being circled by his own doubts. They guide his hands to reposition themself upon his wand. Force him to take one step forward. There is a moment where he lifts his wand off the ground but having an argument to respond to stays his hand. He puts his feelings out in the open, wrapped within brevity and arrogance.]

Better to strike a man through the back than the heart, surely?

[The words in reply, spoken with a lightness that is all too easy to construe as mocking, both agitate and bewilder Hendrik. Better to strike a man in the back than through the heart? What in the skies was that supposed to mean?]

I would think that would depend on if you wish to kill the man or make him suffer.

[He frowns as he adjusts his grip on his greatsword, not removing its sheath but holding it as if he intends to fight.]

But perhaps that is a question better asked of you.

Oh, really? Should I not laugh because it would be more honest than anything I have to say?

[One hand flicks his fringe away. His other grasps his wand and he stakes it in the earth; a pictoral representation of standing his ground. Truly, he should not have expected any other answer. Hendrik barely acknowledges his existence. Why would he acknowledge his emotions?

He gestures to make a point. No, a performance.]

I am the one posing questions on a false premise, after all

[His words harken to their first conversation. Another tense exchange he cannot forget.]

[Referring back to his words over the "network" has an immediate effect on Hendrik, and his eyes practically flash as his anger rises out of the miasma of his earlier moroseness.]

You cannot tell the populace you miss home when you and your master are the ones who burned it to the ground!

[That is perhaps a little hyperbolic, pulling from Hendrik's childhood memories alongside much fresher ones. More of Heliodor still stood in comparison to Zwaardsrust, likely serving as a base for the waves of undead that mottled the hills between the Last Bastion and the destroyed capital.

But the point still stands.]

You do not get to miss what you yourself destroyed!

Edited 2021-02-15 03:07 (UTC)

[Jasper hardly blinks. He stands in opposition to Hendrik's fiery anger; cool, calm and unstirred. Oh, he knows the chaos he has wrought, the evil he has committed. All the deaths he owns responsibility for. It all barely registers on his face.]

Oh, it was destroyed long before I raised my hand against it.

[Ostracised by his countrymen. Unheeded by His King. Left to his despair by a man who had been his closest friend. His first friend. The home of his mother wiped from existence. What does land even matter?]

You do not know the character of its people as I do, believe me.

Edited 2021-02-15 03:54 (UTC)

[Even as Hendrik feels his hands go numb, his mind fills with noise. How can Jasper say something like that? How can he be so dismissive? It takes a long time for him to find his words after his earlier seething, though they still drip with emotion.]

You did not think that way of the citizenry before. You wished to protect them, to serve them. To be an excellent knight.

[And that was the crux of it all, wasn't it? The man who stands before him has none of the knightly bearing that he remembers.]

We swore an oath. Why would you give up on your dreams and befoul yourself with darkness?

[The cold expression frozen over his face begins cracking; muscles twitching and lips twisting. Who would be surprised that Hendrik demands answers when he himself is the answer? He drops his emotionless demeanour and looks at the man standing before him. Scowling and bearing teeth in an indignant manner.]

"Why"? That question befits you, surely?

[He grasps his wand and finds a release in feeling his muscles strain.]

Do you even remember they were our dreams? Or is that memory consigned to the past amongst other foolish dreams we shared?

[Bewilderment once again twists and writhes inside Hendrik. Why is Jasper talking of such things now? Why do these questions seem to become about him?]

Of course they were our dreams! Who ever said there was anything foolish about them?

[He doesn't understand. Even in the long stream of him wracking his soul looking for answers, this doesn't make sense.]

Have we not stood as the two-headed eagle for over a decade?

[The shallow dismissal of his emotions leads to a loss of patience; nails clacking his wand, a disaffected sigh. His words could come plain as day and still this imbecile would fail to conceive and comprehend.]

Only as you believe.

[For a man alone as he was, what choice was there? To watch his friend fly away?]

We never stood together. Is that not clear enough?

Edited 2021-02-15 16:38 (UTC)

I...

[Speechless. Unsure. It is not a good feeling, to be at once confused and conflicted in a completely different way.

Should he believe this? The lofty, mocking tone seems to be gone from Jasper's voice, but that isn't a clear indicator that he isn't lying.

But he wants answers. Needs to understand.]

We did. I am certain that we did.

[But something changed. They did not see each other as often due to work. They drifted apart.]

[The haughty, derisive sound of his voice is dropped like a hot stone - replaced by an unbalanced anger that spills out of his mind. He dislikes wasting his time on a conversation going in circles!]

Not when you went gallavanting on your own!

[Hendrik's journey to Octagonia? It is one of many missions he never executed; the accolade, the acclaim. None of it matters compared to his old friend leaving him behind, telling him he isn't capable of protecting himself or anyone else.]

Though of course it turned out fine; you never needed my help after all.

[When Jasper's anger rises again, Hendrik fights the urge to meet him with anger in return. Anger won't help him understand what's going on anymore than his accusations -- a fact that gives him pangs of guilt just thinking about it.

So he remains silent for a long moment, clenching his fingers around his greatsword's hilt. It takes a hissing exhale for him to say anything at all.]

That is not true.

[Jasper draws his weapon from the ground and - too tormented to think about relocating it - stabs it into another part. If only he could pierce Hendrik's ignorance as easily.

He bends down to retreive the selkie's pelt. Unfolding it, shaking it, airing it out; the distraction is welcome and wanted. Unlike his company in those times he speaks of.]

Now who is the liar?

Edited 2021-02-15 21:48 (UTC)

[Even if it is difficult to do in the face of someone who just attempted to strike him, Hendrik lowers his sword, the heavy blade slanted towards the earth. His eyes rest on this unnaturally pale version of his former comrade, jaw squared and lips pressed into a line as he seriously considers the question.]

I have never lied to you.

You lie to yourself!

[The interruption is sharp and hostile. Fists clench at his sides, feet adopting a wide stance. Fingers ache with the need to seize and shake but he clenches his jaw as his face burns red. Frustration - with nowhere to go but outward - makes him much more terrifying. He slams a fist into his wand and glares at his old friend.]

Every word that leaves your mouth is a deception! It is pathetic!

[This time, this time, Hendrik lets his anger fuel him -- a passion that, for once in this conversation, is certain.]

You shift the subject. Whether or not I lie to myself, I have never lied to you.

[He squeezes his eyes shut in frustration, upset enough to leave himself open to attack for a moment. His eyes are defiant when he reopens them.]

I have needed your help for years. Any success I have had was solely because you were there. How could you not see that?

[Hendrik looks at him in dissent. Ignoring his indignation. Ignoring the injustice. He doesn't so much as listen, anger clouding his face like it has the right to be there. What is he playing at?

Then he opens his mouth, speaks those words. All those coming after fade into ether and those he remembers circle on repeat. How can he hear anything else?]

Years? Years? ARE YOU SURE?

[His voice is a rising tempest of outrage and scorn. The weapon he leans upon is withdrawn from the earth and held before him in a protective motion, ready to strike depending on what Hendrik has to say.]

I am sorry my blindness is an INCONVENIENCE!

[Silence. The roar that is Jasper's words in response echoes across the plains, and it stills something in Hendrik's chest.

He still doesn't understand, and an answer will not be coming soon.

This is bound to end in bloodshed if it continues to escalate. Jasper has already struck out against him. He can feel his own temper refusing to ease up.

He takes a step back. And then another. His eyes never leave the incensed face of his old friend.

It is difficult to disengage, even when he feels it is necessary.]

Years, Jasper. I stand by that.

[And now Hendrik steps away. Once, twice, leaving him standing alone amidst the plain. He no longer feels disappointment over being abandoned nor hope for being found - no light brightening his eyes - and finds himself counting down the seconds till his temper blows.

Five, maybe. Or eight. The pelt rolls away from his feet. One foot steps forward, but when the other comes he pauses. He stares at Hendrik in some kind of confusion. Does he try again to reason? There is no point when Hendrik won't listen, right? He looks... to struggle for a second, but he doesn't like it, and he seems frustrated with himself.

So he decides to be strong and say nothing more.]

[With distance between them now, another feeling begins to creep in that is terribly familiar. A churning anxiousness.

Why? Why now? Had his feelings cooled so much in the space of one confrontation? He swallows a lump in his throat and eases out of his stance, starting to sling his greatsword into place on his back. Brows knit together in worried contemplation.]

I want to try talking. Not here. Not out in the middle of nowhere.

[That admission seems to settle that churning feeling somewhat, so he takes a slow breath and crouches to collect his dropped items.]

I believe we both need time to calm down.

[Jasper sighs and repositions his pelt under one arm. He looks around to ensure their solitude and keeps one eye open for anything untoward. This entire sees him exhaling deeply; free not to worry about his appearances out here in the middle of nowhere. Free of burdens. Free of people.

The emotion tied to both is an invisible hand around his throat. He peels it off with his fingers; throwing it away without word or reason. His pacing steps carry him away with equal leisure. Without a smile. Without a word.

Hendrik wants to talk? He's had years.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She was my woman

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject