3 Days ago.
Lorcan was leaning on a basic oak tree that was about a day from the Ossaland Empire. His sword laid on his lap and he leaned his head back with his arms crossed. The sun was radiant and shined down on his Pearlean skin that terrestrialized his masculine features. Lorcan deeply inhaled and exhaled, as if trying to take in the fact that the war was finally over. He had a stoic look on his face. Even after a few months, there were many lands to claim and fix-of course, Lorcan had to take the initiative. The Aebuimore war has kept him on the battlefield for the past three years but now it's time for him to finally return to his own home, to his soon-to-be wife.
The feeling made his heart churn and stomach tighten. It's unexplainable, but the feeling is always recognizable. Whenever Beatrice crossed his mind, and he read her sweet name in reports, he always stood at attention. Ever since Lorcan had seen her 3 years ago at the Royal National Union Party, he hasn't been able to keep her shy smile out of his mind. Though she took his keen sense of sight by the neck when she entered the room, she belonged to Alfrid. Alfrid Britten Barnum, the 2nd Prince, his rebellious nitwit of a brother, was the one who had such a prized jewel, and Lorcan never dreamed of scratching her with his rough hands.
However, that prized jewel was now in his grasp, there was a chance he could acquire the right to stand next to her. Not as a Knight or acquaintance, but her bloody husband. Beatrice Barnum. The man loathed the idea. The idea of having to lead such a fragile and bright woman for the rest of his life, he lacked that simple skill. Clenching his fist, Lorcan took a deeper inhale and let out the air slowly. For the past 3 months, Lorcan has been training himself on how to speak around her, how to be proper, how to court her, how to be real nobleman.But his time at war has made him quiet and lack contact with women. But thats a good thing, right?
Slouching his shoulder, Lorcan realized just how troublesome his father's request really is. Just when he thought he'd have time to go home and rest, now he had a wedding he had to make time for. He can never have a moment to himself. But if it meant taking on endless arrangements and planning to unite with her... Beatrice Estell. Oh heavens knows he'd do it. After a while, his servant came up the hill he was resting on. The footsteps were quiet yet sounded like a structured march, reaching the top the Servant stood at attention, waiting to be spoken to.
"Abram.", Lorcan didn't even need to open his eyes, just by his herbal smell and walking pattern, he could tell it was him, but at this moment, he was walking faster than he normally did. The poised Butler stood with unease and took a second to collect himself before addressing his master.
"Your Grace.". Lorcan opened his eyes and raised one eyebrow, finally looking at Abram. The older man stood at attention with his hands folded behind him. His brown hair was combed to perfection and his gray brown eyes held a stoic feeling. If it wasn't for the years they've spent together, Lorcan would have missed the hesitance in the man's demeanor, he never hesitated. Normally, he would have gotten to the point by now, but at the moment, he was hesitant, signaling that something was wrong. "The Young Lady has collapsed, Sire.". Abram stood poised with his hands behind his back which started to tighten as he delivered the news to his Master, who tensed up.
"Why?".
"Poison." Abram answered.
"By whom?".
"Self-inflicted. Your Grace.". The last part took Abram a second to deliver. He called his Master's title trying to hint he understood this topic was serious, but he knew the answer and wouldn't sugarcoat it. Lorcan's hands fell to his lap where his ankles were crosses when he heard how his fiancée wanted to take her vitality a week before their wedding. At least none of his enemies were stupid enough to go after her, but now Lorcan had a whole other dilemma to take care of. "It has not reached the public Your Grace, it's known she is simply unwell.". Abram spoke with hesitation yet kept his calm demeanor. He tried to better Lorcans' mood, but that just further irritated him.
"Simply unwell? I guess that beats a suicidal fiancé?" Lorcan had a smile on his face but it was bitter and melancholic.
"Yes, I suppose it does, Sire.". Taking another glance at Lorcan, Abram bowed slightly and turned to leave. "We ride in 30 minutes. We'll reach Ossalands Terf by nightfall.". Abram halted when he heard his master's instructions.
"Your Grace- Ossaland gates are more than a days ride away and we have over 80 men-".
"Figure it out." At this point, Lorcan turned his head away from his trusted servant and closed his eyes. Abram took a deep breath and checked his ticking time watch as he recalculated.
"I always do...". Abram turned around and walked away with steps that had purpose. Lorcan peeped open his hooded eyes and waited for Abram to disappear from his view before he started to spring up and gathered his items.
"Ishmore". From behind one of the trees came a small and frail-looking boy dressed in a dark green turtleneck top and black pants that could pass as uniform. He had on a hood and a black cloth mask that waved under his silver eyes, giving them a majestic look.
"Yes, Your Grace". He bowed deeply on one of his knees and waited for his next orders.
"I asked you, to look after Beatrice, but keep your distance and stay undetected... However." Lorcan turned slowly as he assembled his sword holder at his hip. His eyes grew a little colder and his voice dipped. "I didn't expect you'd let her go as far as drinking poison." Ishmore froze up and contemplated whether to answer or just stay silent. He just apologized.
"Please forgive me. It was my lack of attention- Your Grace-". Ishmore was clinging on the chest of his shirt as the vivid image of the girl laying on her bed having difficulty breathing and slight convulsions. The sight was disturbing, but the whole concept of being undetected was staying... at a distance.
Lorcan caught the small movement from the boy and how his silver eyes had entered an unknown place. After a breath, he waved his hand to dismiss the matter as he continued to dress himself. "Well, I still have a breathing fiancé, so there's no need for overthinking.". Lorcan's eyes were chilled and zoned out. His tone was stoic, however his chest was swelling at the thought of Beatrice lying in pain. After he was done buttoning his vest he pulled the black veil over his face once again and tied the strings on top of his hair at the back. "Nonetheless, when are we going to hear any updates on her condition?".
"I've sent two birds as of late, Your Grace. You should be receiving an update in five hours and another in eight hours.". Lorcan proceeded to pick up his sword, plastering a fake smile on his face. He angled his sword at his hip and slid it in its holder, never bearking eye contact from Ishmore's bowing form.
"You're dismissed". With that, Ishmore slightly nodded and disappeared into the forest with slow quite steps.
Lorcan felt that sudden tug in his heart again, which halted his breathing momentarily. There it was, his past haunting him again, getting in the way of his peaceful future, the one he didn't deserve. Looking down, he clenched the scarred skin in his palms, a weak smile met his lips, and his eyes were making no attempt to stay open. Death, without even using his hands it called to people, even the one he cares for, from a distance. "It's not the time to be a weak old mule.". Lorcan mumbled to himself, and also to the man he idealized to be.
"Co-Cap!". Lorcan slowly turned his neck to the person with brown hair styled in a man bun and an unbuttoned white blouse coming up the hill. The way he effortlessly let his clothes stay loose made Lorcan's mouth corners frown and his eyes narrow. The Man started jogging to the top once he got his Co-Captain's attention. His brown hair fell in his face after a while, and he moved it out of his face once he reached the top.
"Edwards? What's got you in a hurry now?". Lorcan continued to alter his clothes and had a small hidden grin on his face as he watched his comrade take short breaths, the hill had an effect on him, but you could still tell that he was fit. "It's not unlike you to be so riled up, but I'm interested to know what it is this time.".
Edwards chuckled coyly as he wrapped his arm around Lorcan's neck staring over at him with his glowing emerald eyes. "It's time to feast old man!". Lorcan had an annoyed look on his face. Even though his face seemed bland, Edwards could tell his friend's real mood after all these years. "You've been up here for hours, and the celebrations is already starting.". Lorcan flinched, he had completely forgotten about the men's get together.
After fighting 3 years straight, away from they're family, limited on food, and with little to no sleep, Lorcan gave his men permission to feast when they had set up camp. Would... Would he go back on his words and tell them to pack up now to get back to his sick fiancé? Or would he wait for them to rest? Yes, they would understand, but the unspoken exchange would be that 'Lorcan Barnum has little to no empathy for his troops'. Clenching his teeth, Lorcan swiftly removed Edwards' hand away from his neck as he pulled and fixed his collar staring at the ground. "I'll be there in a Moment, I need to talk to Abram.". Edward paused for a moment, he had a complex look on his face as he tried to break down his friend's words. Before he could draw a conclusion, Lorcan spoke again. "I wanted to leave in about 30 mins. I... I do apologize for forgetting about what we had arranged.".
"I just saw Abram enter the tent. But-But Co-Cap-" Lorcan held up his hand, making Edward stand there quietly, his hands starting to cross.
"We leave at the crack of daylight tomorrow.". Lorcan spoke in a flat tone as he started strolling down the hill. "No ifs. No buts.". Edward had a jeering smirk on his face as he ran behind Lorcan.
The men under the high tent let out a sigh of relief and some let out loud laughter when their Co-Captain finally showed his face at the celebration. Well, he showed half of his face. Lorcans' presence was still chilling, but he had a pleasant on his face directed to all his men. Walking down the center, Edward followed Lorcn to the table located at the end of the tent. Lorcan glanced to his left and his right, though it was dim in the tent, he recognized the men that have been pursuing this war with open arms to protect their Empire.
A soldier with a stump raised his wooden ale cup with excitement as he laughed amongst his fellow comrades, that's Alfred. A smaller soldier who seemed timid in appearance but had inhumanly vicious thoughts, that's Eli. A bulky man sat with charred beef in front of him, mashed potatoes, turkey neck, and a bowl of grits. That's Denvar, Lorcan knew the man was no small eater. With a smile on his face, he continued to observe his men, his friends that he had been taking care of.
Reaching the end of the tent, Lorcan sat next to his brother-in-arms. Of course, he never had the sense to say it, but he saw them as family in this lifetime.
"FOR OSSALAND"
The tent erupted when Lorcan finally took a seat and raised his glass. With a small smile, he felt pride fill his chest when he laid eyes on the many brothers whom he wouldn't get to see as often anymore. That's what was the most heart-straining, not having to readjust his everyday life, but saying 'I'll see you around' to his brothers in arms. Raising once more, Lorcan raised the silver cup in his hand and the men around him couldn't help but enter a era of silence for his speech.
He started his speech lightly and it's as if talking about his time adjusting to they're brother-hood slowly lifted the little sorrow he had left in his chest. Smiling now and then, Lorcan glances around the room as he guided his men to look forward with the future and carry his name with dignity. Because they did carry his name, they were his family. Closing off his speech, Lorcan gazed into everyone of there eyes-
"We've fought with purpose, body, and strength. You all are the true embodiment of Ossaland pride, and... I wish you all the best.".
After a brief silence, the crowd erupted with cries, awes, and teases about Lorcans reddened ears. This kind of enjoyment and home is something People fight for, and they have. Ignoring they're bellows Lorcan started putting away his alcohol with ease.
"Sooooo.. We need to leave at the crack of day light, now eat up men!". Edward's encouraging tone left the men silent, even Lorcan couldn't help but hide and crack a smile behind his glass with his best mans ignorance. A couple of chicken bones and hard crusted bread lest overs flow His way and Lorcan simply scooted away from the man who couldn't read a room. Edwards yelled continuously as he suffered the indirect wrath of Lorcans' decision.