"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
I’m looking for a few good souls to help shape the future she had told him. She - the Queen of the Chamber who had courted a colt for recruiting. He had been intrigued as to how many had approached him - so young was he. But Davos knew there was something he was meant to do in this life. There were places yet to explore, people to meet, tasks to be accomplished. Why not start now, at the dawn of his life? So after the frenzy of the Field had subsided - Davos struck out across the land, only vaguely aware of where he was going. His intent was to visit the three who had approached him, those that had sought him for their ranks. Straia. Covet. Elysteria.
There was no particular order in which he decided to visit the three. From the Field he set out east with the rising sun. In the morning dew he awoke. And with a shake of his dark coat he focused his green eyes upon the rising light - searching in it for a sign of purpose. East is called to him. He followed the sun until it dipped below the mountain range, leaving him in shadow. Day after day. Until finally, on the third morning Davos crossed into the Chamber. Though he was not immediately aware of which Kingdom he had entered, a silent chill fell upon him as he entered through a well defined path - worn into the bedrock by the many hooves before him.
He paused momentarily, gathering his breath after the long journey.
And with determination he entered - waiting, watching for the adventure to come.
Perhaps, in another world, Erebor and Davos could have found themselves reversed.
Perhaps in another world, Erebor could have been the boy stranded in the field, courted by recruiters who saw him as something far older than he actually was. Perhaps they would share a sense of purpose, a knowledge that they were made for something more. They both push themselves toward their destinies, hurling themselves into adulthood with an astonishing frenzy.
Perhaps, in this world, two growing boys can find common ground. Perhaps, even for the serious Chamber-prince, there could be friendship.
He smells the newcomer before he sees him. Erebor has honed his ability to smell non-Chamber horses as they cross the border; it's a handy ability really, especially when you're the kingdom's self-appointed border guard. He is wandering not too far away from the path that winds its way into the kingdom from outside, sliding amongst the remnants of the pine trees that he and his mother both love. They are slowly growing back to their full majesty, their branches a little fuller, more trunks sprouting up from the ground. The volcanos came, but the Chamber is rebuilding.
He emerges through the trees, not silently, but with the practiced ease of one who obviously knows this place. These are his trees, by his hard work as much as his birthright. He may be a prince, but he earns that title just as much as he claims it through his blood.
Ironically, he looks nothing like the queen. He and Straia may share much when it comes to the ways their minds work, but when it comes to external appearances, he's entirely his father's son. He has Warship's pitch-black coat, his fighter's muscles, honed by the practice that father and son had begun mere days after Erebor's birth. It is hard to say whether Erebor or Warship had been more eager to start; both shared the idea that there was no such thing as too early to be training.
He is a yearling now, and he is turning handsome, the devastating kind of handsome that a good boy scout can be – clean cut, impressive bearing, as though he's wearing a uniform. Such is Erebor: constantly on duty, always aware of the Chamber above all and everything else.
Erebor feels no fear as he approaches the newcomer. Here in the Chamber, Erebor is at home – he does not doubt that his mother or his father may be nearby, although he is equally confident in his own ability and willingness to defend if the circumstances called for it. But part of his training has been how to read other horses, to look at them and know their intentions purely based on how they move. And while he's no expert, he is a quick study, and this man seems far from threatening. And so a small smile plays on the black boy's lips and he calls out a greeting as he heads toward the boy.
"Good morning." his greeting is crisp, even, friendly enough. Reaching conversation range, he comes to an easy halt."Welcome to the Chamber." he pauses for just a moment, still smiling slightly. His acute senses catch that his new companion is slightly out of breath, that his coat is perhaps a shade darker than it might otherwise be, telltale signs of a long journey. "I'm Erebor."
Do you believe you're missin' out?
That everything good is happening somewhere else?
Ever since rejoining the Chamber, I’ve been plain. Plain in the sense that illusions no longer grace my elegant figure, plain in the sense that I’m nothing except myself. Once, this would have been the bane of my servitude. Now, I reassure myself with the following wisdom: I am as I was, and who I was was magnificent. This is enough for me.
And in fact, I am not entirely plain. A rose-gold chevron tattoo circles the top of my right thigh, announcing to everyone the nature of my relationship status: taken by the most beautiful Amazonian in Beqanna.
Alas, taken is not all that I am. I am also Governor of this here Chamber, and uncle to the Queen. I’ve important things to be doing here, important places to be. I fancy that I am the second most important member in this kingdom, besides Straia. A few years back, my certainty would have wavered at the thought, but now, with my loyalty proven and as strong as stone, I am completely sure of this fact. I have worked for what I have now, and I will hold it with honour and authority.
That being said, I’m not a pompous jerk. I’m quite the gentleman, actually, and by far the Chamber’s jolliest soul. Most people are aware of this, but as I happen upon a new scent, another soul comes to know just how kind and giving I am.
Approaching swiftly, I arrive with my great-nephew but allow him to speak first. When his piece is said, I turn my graceful Arabian head to the other colt, aware that I am now officially the babysitter. Not that Erebor needs it – he’s practically his own babysitter.
”Are you lost?” I ask not unkindly, for although the number of abandoned foals is at an all-time high, I remember my own son and think of how he could stray from Pomona and perhaps find himself in all the wrong places. ”I’m Kavi, Erebor’s great-uncle and Straia’s uncle.” Charismatically half-smiling as I am prone to doing, I dip my head cordially. ”Pray tell what you wish to be called, friend.”
Age has never been anything more than a number as far as Straia was concerned. She was nothing like her son at his age. The now Queen, then Princess, had been difficult and pretension. Purposefully so, because it amused her, and not because she actually was any of these things. But she has always been clever and dedicated to the Chamber, even was she was doing her utmost to piss of her father and poke at their resident panther-man.
She had grown of course into something slightly more reasonable, though she is still typically blunt and honest and forthright. Not evil, necessarily, but not particularly kind either when given the choice. Kavi is certainly the kindest creature you will find in the Chamber, and that’s good, because they need some balance.
She’s late to the party, but then again, she’s the Queen and therefore she’s never actually late. Everyone else is simply early. But truthfully, she likes letting the others beat her. She wants to see who’s doing what, wants to watch as her son grows into himself. He’s becoming quite handsome, not that she ever thought he wouldn’t be. Though like most everything, they are both very similar and very different in this regard.
She is beautiful – always has been – but she’s beautiful in a wild and carefree way. Her mane and tail and long and unkempt, yet fall in waves as if put there. She’s both delicate in her Arabian features, and yet strong enough from her mother’s hybrid side to be of reasonable size. Her son in handsome in his own way – jet black and clean cut. All solid lines to her waving ones. Truthfully, it’s hard to tell they are related.
“Davos,” she says, offering the boy a small smile and a nod of her head as she slides into the group between her Uncle and her son. Who would have thought it – Straia, surrounded by family? After so many years of a father who would have preferred a pawn for a child, of having sisters she never saw, cousins she never met. But now she has these two, at any rate. “Have you come searching for your destiny?”
It wasn't long before they came. Swiftly down from the surrounding hills. Through the pine trees the first appeared. Perhaps it was the scent of an outsider that drew them in - the young dark stallion surely attained a musk of his own, different from the perfume of the Chamber. Maybe the first to approach was the Chamber's boarder patrol, Davos was uncertain. But the boys were of a similar age, both growing in their sense of self, learning to control their bodies and minds. Davos was calm, steady as the other spoke. He smiles slyly, a smirk crawling just into the corners of his lips. "Hello Erebor. My name is Davos."
There was no time to initiate further conversation with the boy, as another stallion proceeded to join them - a buckskin male with a golden marking. Though Davos was unsure of the purpose or significance of tattoos in Beqanna, he understood that differentiation was often a meaning of importance. Davos' green eyes turn to gaze toward Kavi. "Kavi. I am Davos. I was invited here by your niece, Straia." The dark boy perhaps could not grasp the concept that others might think him weak or unknowing. Davos was young, but aware of himself and his surroundings. So, the boy was a bit put off by Kavi's question, and though he tried to mask his displeasure, he likely did not accomplish such.
Not soon after the colt answered Kavi, did Straia herself appear before the gathering. Have you come searching for your destiny? she breathed. And while Davos still did not know exactly what that destiny might entail, he responded evenly to the Queen. "Indeed. I have." Upon further reflections (as Davos had much time to think as he traveled east toward the Chamber), his destiny might not actually be what he needed to search for. Destiny would come along in time, with it's life experiences and happenings. But Davos would need to search for something of purpose. A way to learn and grow more in himself. Learn a skill. Perform a task. Be a part of something bigger. Only through these means could he (and inevitably would he) find his destiny. "I would like to serve the Chamber."
D A V O S Son of Whale & Pharaon
ooc: Sorry this took so long - life caught up and I went on away But Davos is back to play for awhile!
"Davos." he tests the name on his lips, but doesn't have time to say anything more before Kavi arrives, and Straia arrives shortly thereafter. He listens to the conversation quietly, politely, absorbing how the adults talk back and forth, and how Davos answers them. He is especially interested in how the boy decides who is worthy of his respect – he watches him decide (correctly) that Kavi deserves deference. He watches him decide (correctly) that Straia is worthy of deference. Although, he has clearly known Erebor's mother beforehand, so perhaps that's no snap decision.
But he doesn't need to study to understand the next words. He's know them anywhere, from Davos or from anyone else, and they never fail to make him smile. "And the Chamber would love to have you." he answers, knowing it's the right answer, knowing that they always want those who are willing to give of themselves, to jump in and serve with their whole heart. "I think you'll like it." he says, giving the other boy a friendly smile.
Erebor himself cannot imagine being anywhere else, or serving anywhere else. True enough, he'd been born to the Chamber, whereas Davos had not. But birth can only do so much; he is acutely aware of that as he pushes himself every day to be worthy of the honors that his birth has conferred on him. He is not one to rest on his laurels, to trust his noble birth and rich Chamber heritage to do all the work for him. No, if anything that heritage pushes him to push himself harder, inspires him to be greater.
He looks to the other boy, wondering what his perspective would be. Erebor realizes quite suddenly that he's never had a friend even close to his own age. Arguably, he hasn't had much in the way of friends, period, and if you consider age to be marked by the way one behaves, he definitely acts far older than his years.
She has always known her destiny. To serve the Chamber, to rule it. It’s been laid out in front of her since the moment she was born, the product of the old monarchy and the new. She existed to unite the two, and as such, believe she existed to rule. Because isn’t it always better to put everything together. Two heads are better than one, and in a sense, she had two heads.
But destiny is one thing, and fulfilling it another. Erebor knows this, and Straia believes that Davos knows it as well. She worked every step of the way for the crown that sits on her head (figuratively, most of the time, though she’s worn her crown of flowers from Eight before). She made herself worthy and then waited for the right time. And now look where she is. More importantly, look where the Chamber is.
She rules for the Chamber, not for herself. She believes she can make the Chamber better (look how far they have come from when she started). And when there is nothing left for her to offer her kingdom, she’ll pass the throne to someone else. In the end, the only destiny that matters is the Chambers. Hers is tied so directly too it that sometimes there’s no difference at all.
Davos says he’s come to serve the Chamber, and her smile spread just slightly. Erebor welcomes him, tells him they’d be glad to have him join. Straia watches, noting that her son and Davos are similar in age. It would be good for the two of them, certainly, to grow up with someone so similar in age and disposition. “Peace or war. Or both. Your decision. Erebor is in our army, and Kavi here leads our peace caste. If you have any questions, I am sure they can help you. And you can choose whenever. No rush.” She doesn’t say she’s glad, but her face says it. She looks pleased, and she nods at the boy slightly to show him that he’s welcome here.
But Davos is back to play for awhile!
