Forsilvra :: Winds of Change
Old 03-26-2012, 02:35 PM
Ludovic Fleurant
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Default A Quiet Repose [Solo]

The air in the mountains was heavy that morning, the clouds low around the grounds, an ephemeral fog that made almost every day more beautiful than the last. The sun crested and created striations of a breathtaking pink and purple amongst the clouds in the earliest moments of dawn, and few could ever argue that it was anything but gorgeous.

Ludovic was one of those few.

As he woke that same morning, a morning like any other morning, another tedious day of tripe an worthlessness, a constant nagging of impossibly long and arduous tasks that would never be completed. He was an infinitesimally small speck in this world, one man amongst millions, yet much was expected of him. His speck was ever so slightly bigger than some of the other specks, believe it or not.

He hardly believed it.

Joints creaked like ancient wicker, standing with a grotesque yawn, face contorting as if in pain of being awoken. He stumbled towards the wash basin, the maid having brought in fresh water and towels earlier. The servants operated in another world in Ludovic's mind, hardly registering as actual people or things needing attention except when necessary.

After freshening himself he dressed, the crisp military uniform of his station, way nicer than any soldiers uniform and fit for any ceremony amongst nobles. He wore it constantly, and almost exclusively. It was his right.

He sauntered through the part of the castle that was reserved for him and his family. It was sequestered and away from the rest of the family, as if to designate that indeed, Ludovic, you are not wanted here. Truly, he and Lisbette and the children probably were not.

Sure, the children got along well enough with the rest of the family, but only because even those goody-goodies on Renate's side of the family 'understood' that they weren't to blame for what Ludovic had done. This was, of course, another bullshit ruse on their part to sully his name. He hated Renate and his brothers and sisters, as much as he hated their father Gaston. However, all of them paled in comparison to Silvain, his cursed father, the enemy of everything he was, the entire reason that his life had been ruined.

He hated that man. If he wasn't dead right now he didn't think he'd be able to stop himself for choking him to death on the spot, even if it meant his death right then and there. This pure thought of fury consumed him and found himself gripping a cup he had poured full of wine now had dents in it, light impressions on the thin metal of the cup where he had begun to crush it.

He put the cup down and walked from the room, into the hallway and out towards the barracks. He would begin his daily chores there, talking with generals and aide's, organizing and unifying the men of House Fleurant for his nephew's use. It was a wholly satisfying job, as he was exceptionally good at rallying men and fighting wars. He had been trained well in this regard, regardless of his problems elsewhere.

However, not even that could overcome the abysmal attitude that was Ludovic. He was met by a minor captain of one of his garrisons somewhere out in the countryside, a minor town, a few guards.

"So he could not come himself? Who is he to presume to send you? Who are you?"

"Uhh.. My name is Frankel Hopsworth, sir." The boy snapped to attention. He was but a boy, couldn't be farther past his second decade.

"I don't care who you are, don't you understand that!?" He snapped, his stood, his chair skidding back loudly, heavy wood that scraped against the stone floor of his office. He came around his desk and stood in front of the captain. "Why didn't he come himself?!"

"I don't know! He just asked me to send you the report! I'm not even normally a messenger!" the boy was shaking. He forgot to add the sir. Ludovic contemplated harping on this next, but thought that the boy had probably had enough. He wouldn't live long, more than likely. Not a meaningless soldier like this.

"So be it. Tell him the next time he wants something so important he is to come ask me himself. And that I decline the troop transfer. Leave, before I remember that you forgot my honorific."

The captain snapped to attention and flew from the room, the door clattering shut on his way out, a small peel of laughter from Ludovic as he scurried away.

Truly, he loved his job.

After a long day, Ludovic would find himself at a cliff face, not far from the castle. It was grass covered with a tree, a very serene spot, no doubt used by many Fleurants throughout the years as a place of tranquility. It was Ludovic's right then, though he laid no particular claim to it. It was as much anyone else's as his. He didn't create it, only found it, and it wasn't something he could move so how could it be his?

Sigh. Such was life. Many things were unchangeable and therefore out of his control. It was infuriating. Maybe that was why he was the way he was? No, probably not. There was too much bitterness from her father and his social standing for him to be anything but surly. No one else in his situation would be any different.

Would they?
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