all corners of the kingdom in one place , families with too high opinions of themselves and egos fragile as a vein against a blade — trouble is brewing , rumbling beneath their feet . politics is a tricky business , and thankfully she has no need to play fair . head lowered over her notes , a migraine is pounding on her temples , demanding her attention , relieved only when eben sits himself down next to her .
“ i am doing no such thing . ” she responds gruffly , slams shut her notes and whips them out of sight with the nimble fingers she is so infamous for . even a friend close as blood is not privy to the dealings of the master of spies , the kingdom’s every secret scribbled down in the darkest corners of her skull ; even his .
still , her smile is pleased — she may grow wary of the nobility but eben anastase is like family , bonded to her in the ways of war and terror , a friendship somehow forged amongst the trauma of sword fights and sleepless nights beneath the stars . “ only if you can keep up , old man . ” she grins and takes the bottle gladly , accepts its bitter taste with delight . “ so your brother is on the road to be king . forgive if i’m mistaken but aren’t you the eldest of house anastase ? ” she can’t turn it off , even with her closest of friends , the need to grab at information , collect it shiny and pretty , store it until it’s useful . “ not that i’d want to wed her . ”
he notes the way she quickly covers up her scribblings, but he had no interest in that sort of thing ---whatever it was. despite offering the drink moments before he takes the bottle in gloved palm once more and swallows back a mouthful, letting the burn of cheap liquor linger before knocking back another. once more the bottle is set between them ---they’d shared much worse than a drink from the same flask. they’d shed blood together and survived to tell it, little things like this meant nothing.
“ old man. almost at my fortieth name day. i’d be surprised if i lived to see it. ” once upon a time he believed he’d live forever. the world was forged for little lordlings such as he ---invincible, untouchable, an undying flame. the passage of time, trauma padding his young twenties, was enough to humble him to such thoughts. he’d taken enough lives from young whips much akin to himself to know it could be over in an instant ... he bore enough scars to understand. the hard set of his features, a permanent expression of displeased neutrality, was a result (among other things). “ yes, young lord varian is marrying into the hornets nest. luck be on his side. ”
aren’t you the eldest of house anastase? the words were enough to leave the bitter taste of alcohol more sour than not, and eben reached for the bottle to swallows two or three large mouthfuls once more before answering. “ that i am. i’m in service of the king’s military. i’ve no time for a wife. ” except ... “ i’ve been arranged to wed a lady from one of the noble families. ” which was partly why he hid out in the tavern now. 37 years spent dodging this particular arrow and here it was, burying itself in his back. “ congratulations, you’re one of the first to know. ”
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐒 . a stress headache begins to throb at danya’s temples , sat in the deepest corner of the drunk impaler and surrounded by revelry she can’t be bothered to take part in . the prince is to be wed , she is well aware , watching the lowly folk of walochnia dance and drink as though any of this could mean anything good for them .
do they feel the shadow of something bigger looming over walochnia ? basradu has been attacked and she can feel it in her bones , something more is coming . so of course she needed to get out , hooded as she’d scaled the palace walls and rode into new town , settled into her usual place , finding a peace amongst the chaos of the tavern .
a presence settles over her and danya lifts her dark eyes , they narrow . “ what exactly are you doing here ? ” she asks , head tilted , no pretences — danya knows everyone in this damned kingdom .
he was never fond of court. he was never fond of the games that came with it ---the head ache, the back stabbing, the appearing as kind and considerate as possible despite everyone turning their shoulders and dripping venom at the slightest of perceived insults. he didn’t bow deep-enough, her dress is the wrong color. nonsense. it was why he preferred war. combat was easy ... one side versus another, a blade for a blade, a life for a life. he was on edge, but he hid it well. it’d been many years since he’d appeared at court, more than that for something so formal ... the wedding of his brother, his closest friend in the world, to a princess he’d watched grow from baby to sprout, to young woman. it should have been him, but he ditched that particular responsibility. he felt bad for it, but the thought was private.
squirreled away in the tavern, riding along the edges of the room like a tall, dark shadow, fingers nipping at a loose bottle on a table where the patrons were busy rousing rabble rather than keeping mind to their drinks. when danya caught him he offered her a pleased smirk and dropped himself into the seat beside her (uninvited) as if he belonged there anyway. “ the same as you: hiding. ” nobody would think to look for lord eben anastase in this dingy backwater. at least, nobody that knew him by court standards alone. (he avoided sharing who he was in the vrajiit military, and avoided being addressed as if he were better or worse than anyone else). but here, oh here ... it was all sweeping bows and ass-kissing. not with danya.
“ have a drink or six with me. ” he gestured to the bottle, now sitting on the table between them, and offered his most winning smile.
------michiel huisman . cis male . he/his . wasn’t that eben anastase walking the palace grounds ? it’s nice to see the lord of danruba out and about on such a fine day as this. i’ve heard from the court spies that they are notoriously apathetic, whilst also managing to be quite charming. the thirty-seven year old is eager to find out who exactly is behind the killings from what’s being said at court. i heard that they themselves are vrajiit ( life-force absorption ). it’s funny, whenever i think of them, i think of well-fitted leather armor, the gleam of polished silver and emeralds, and the scent of petrichor on a thick-foggy morning. great to see the revenant around, isn’t it ?
small stats
name: eben visser anastase.
age: 37.
status: lord of danruba, soldier in the vrajiit army.
sexuality: grey-heteromantic heterosexual.
species: human - vrajiit.
power: life-force absorption.
hair color: dark brown.
eye color: hazel, favoring greys and greens.
height: 6′0″.
build: athletic - lean muscle.
character comparison: edward fairfax rochester (jane eyre), jaime lannister (game of thrones), doc holliday (wynonna earp), boromir (lord of the rings), rick blaine (casablanca), don draper (mad men), perry cox (scrubs), tony soprano (the sopranos), kirk lazarus (tropic thunder), man in black (westworld). && daario naharis (game of thrones), han solo (star wars), thancred waters (final fantasy xiv), dante sparda (devil may cry), rogue (x-men).
biography
war was always in his blood, and blessed was his birth. though not the only child in the anastase noble line born a vrajiit, eben was often reminded of his place in the world growing up. destined for great things. to him it simply meant that people would always want him for something - and a young child imagined that could be nothing but GOOD. a young child knows very little.
the winds in danruba are harsh and unforgiving, the clime caring little for life settling there, trying to flourish. eben learned how to survive in the tundra, though it was never imagined he would ACTUALLY require that knowledge ( better to know and never need it, than need it and never know ). hunting was for sport and survival, the feats of each kill brought back and served for meals, the hides tanned into leathers, furs made for blankets on well-stuffed mattresses. it was certainly a cushy life for a little lordling. he was spoiled in the sense that he was always watched ---his company was always desired, his attention always demanded here or there. he didn’t quite understand why. merely that something great would be expected of him.
shortly after his sixteenth birthday, and when his mind was still full of boyish hope and folly, eben was sent to the vrajiit academy. he excelled at combat, though toyful of his capabilities ( the power to take a life with just a touch seemed limitless ) and for five years he served his country faithfully in the military. he was certain he did his lord father and lady mother proud, and certainly his sharpened prowess was what leant him to being sent into battle rather than being posted in danruba - rather than being returned home under conscription. IN HIS MIND, THESE WERE THE BEST YEARS OF HIS LIFE.
at 21 he was released from his duties to the military. four years he lingered in danruba, living his life as a lord with a semblance of that boyish charm ever-present on his face. with the castle always open to the citizens of his home he saw many faces, learned many stories, met many men and women as they came and went. he fell in love. a glorious and terrifying emotion, one as tumultuous as the sea ‘neath stormy clouds ---he felt the same rush from spending time with the blacksmith’s daughter. she was kind to him, treated him not like he was a prize, a blessed child ---but like he was human.
those same emotions betrayed him, ultimately. she passed beneath him amidst their passionate tryst, his touch and kiss-starved lips passing a death knell over her, life draining from her in a quick instant. HE FELT BETRAYED BY HIS OWN HEART. surely an emotion such as love was meant to be gleeful, it had only brought him happiness before this moment ---surely it was love that killed her. ( introspection would have shared it was the surge of emotion itself, that for all of the battle-wise training eben had learned throughout his life he’d never quite honed how to cease the flow of his power when his feelings crested like a breaking wave ). but introspection was beyond him. grieving, eben withdrew into himself.
the shift from somewhat jovial young lord to apathetic and detached was like the phase of the moon changing. while he wasn’t asocial he seemed less engaged, some form of self-inflicted punishment for suffering to care for another person on such a level. at 25 he re-enlisted in the vrajiit military, the decision to do something more than suffer the company of others final. if his touch was meant to kill, he’d see it to purpose. and so it has served him for those past 12 years, a loyal warrior to the crown through choice, pleased to keep his solitude.
personality
where once eben could be described as talkative, energetic, and impish now only remains an echo of that former self. a man, as it were ---hardened both by battle and personal trauma and lead by self-inflicted punishment. he’s quiet and apathetic, more keen to sit back and observe a situation rather than be the first to participate in it - as if playing a long and drawn-out match of chess. though he is not asocial, and he doesn’t scorn the touch of a woman in the slightest ---he merely chooses not to find emotional attachment in any of his interpersonal relationships.
HOWEVER HE CAN BE QUITE CHARMING WHEN HE NEEDS TO BE, flashing a handsome smile or using silver-tongued wit ---the skills of nobility. eben is less likely to lean on his birth standing and more akin to see a problem to a quick end. he is the product of his own experiences. tactical in thought but ruthless in execution, eben isn’t one to dance around a topic or point - he will bluntly state it.
though it is incredibly obvious that the emotional scars of his experience still linger. perhaps it’s the circumstance of where he was raised ( the infinitely colder climate of danruba ), or his station as a military man that finds him always wearing leathers over his hands and never quite exposing the flesh where one might be drawn to touch. physical intimacy is met with only the desire to feel that particular pleasure and nothing else ---though it’s worth noting that to be safe HE NEVER TOUCHES HIS FAMILY WITH HIS BARE HANDS. lest something happen to them that similarly befell his once romance.
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