8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?9. Describe the way that they sleep.10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?
8.) What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?
“… Uh… I’d probably say it’s Ashalon’s version of WoodlandStew. When we were younger, we went out camping in the forest and Idon’t want to know even half of the ingredients that were in it.Pretty sure frogs, those tiny berries you’re not supposed to eat,regular tree leaves and hell… wouldn’t surprise me if dirt wasincluded. Keep in mind that both of us nearly burned down the kitchenin our own home, so I’m sure you can imagine how any form of campfirecooking goes.”
The warrior grimaced and lifted a hand to rub his jaw, “… I wassick for days.”
10.) What is their favorite food/kind of food?
“Most think it’s sandwiches, because that’s what they see me eatingall the time.” Farwyn lifted a hand to rake his fingers through thehair atop of his head. It was down today and shifted towards his right, revealing only one of the buzzed sides.
“I’m really not that picky… I’d probably like anything if it wascooked well. I suppose heavy meals are my favorite, simply becauseI’m used to eating light snacks on the go rather than sitting downand eating enough until you feel like passing out.”
[[ @adilynia I appreciate the prompts! Already tagged you with number nine. Also @cielya-sunjoy a big thanks to you for sending number eight too! I enjoy writing these. ]]
The words she uttered were enough to make Ashalon’s blood run cold and his heart to forget about its duty to continue beating for a couple seconds. Oh fel. Why did she say that about his brother? Were they close? How in the fel did they know him?!
12. Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up? | 21. What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear? | 48. Is there anything in particular that would ignite your character’s jealousy? Or does your character not get envious? ~Hi, hello, have a prompt!
It is easy to say that Farwyn wouldn’t want to give up his fightingprowess, but that seems terribly vague. There’s a lot of variablesand factors that plague any fighter, be they magical, melee ormarksman. It also does not help that he classifies himself as aWeapons Master, so does he only pick one weapon skill set or attemptto lump them all in? It is difficult to pin point! On the fly, Iwould say he would not be able to give up his tactical instinct (orknowledge.) Above all else, Farwyn is not the strongest, the fittestor the top of anything so he has and always will mostly fall backupon that ingrained experience. Toooften has he barely squeezed by in a fight he wasn’t meant to win,simply because he could calmly assess his own weakness and bled outevery advantage given.
Farwyn’s biggest fear is losing hisdaughter, Elysia. As of right now, in his mind, she is the only oneholding the last piece of himself together. If someone were tothreaten that, he would give up his composure, his dreams, his life-anything to ensure that threat never came to fruition. If theyactually managed to take her away or end her life? They and anyonebetween best fortify themselves or get the hell out of the way,because a murderous warrior with nothing to lose will most definitely demand blood. In this case, no amount would satiate him.
Lastly, Farwyn is not prone tojealousy very easily. He is a simple man who enjoys simple things(whether life lets that happen or not) and tries to avoid pushing hisluck. Still, he’s not a rock (as much as he’d like everyone tobelieve) so jealousy does occur, even if he is practiced in notshowing a great deal. He’s definitely not likely to feel envioustowards anything tangible, but towards relationships it might beanother matter. Example being if he found out about his brother’sromance. Same for his cousins too, although the chances of thathappening (on a level the warrior would recognize) are rather, uh,nil in his opinion.
(( @naivaria Thank you for the prompts! Again, I tend to be a little long-winded but I appreciate the various questions! Fun stuff to think about. :D ))
The words weren't distinguishable at first, but the familiar tune of the song tickled at Alternius' ears. It was broken up by the heavy thud of a hammer on wood, enough so that the Sin'dorei believed it was his imagination. An old memory that leaked out from the kind of mindless repetition that leads to a wandering mind. The sound persisted however, even when he pushed the memory away and he caught himself wondering if perhaps it was Elysia. Yet Alternius hadn't taught his daughter any songs, because he'd lost the heart to recall them.
The tune persisted until its source too became unquestionably answered, even before the words were crisp and clear. A clean tenor with a slight warble, the kind of voice that showed some talent but lacked any real training. Carefree and mockingly jubilant, yet cautious to expose it's purpose. A song to feel out the situation and to test the waters.
The song stung deeply in the way only a memory could and Farwyn promptly leapt off of his perch and dropped the hammer on the ground. The wolves, Lily and Durai, had already been listening to the voice with their ears attentively perked forward. The war wolf's fur was bristled slightly, tensing in natural distrust yet tempered by Lily's inaction at the moment. The warrior glanced towards his home that he had been repairing, naturally protective of the slumbering child within. His lips pressed together before he swore under his breath and tromped off towards the song, Durai rising to follow as Lily stayed behind.
Ashalon hadn't bothered to travel any farther towards the home nestled within the hills in Mulgore. He knew that waltzing up to the front door of Farwyn's hideaway home would be asking for trouble. Zanah was already nervous as she danced around the outskirts of the territory, keenly smelling what had been marked by the wolves and not daring to enter. She had darted up a tree at the sound of approaching footsteps and the huff of a canine, but not out of fear and rather for advantage. Ashalon meanwhile remained sitting atop of a large boulder that bordered the rising cliff line, only turning when he heard the sound of breaking pebbles falling from someone sliding down the sloped rocky wall.
“You're supposed to sing the next part!” Ashalon called to Farwyn, blinking a little as he focused on seeing past the disguise his brother had armed himself with. The lack of scar upon his face, the exotic tattoos and the glaringly bright red hair were something that he had to adjust his mind around. Farwyn had never been so blatant or vibrant nor had he been a fan of such things as tattoos. Still, this was the guise of Alternius and if there was one thing Ashalon was familiar with, it was his brother's commitment. If he wanted a new identity or to hide with one, he would do it thoroughly. And he had.
Thankfully, they were brothers. Neither could fool the other for very long.
“I don't like singing.” Farwyn lied with a begrudging rumble, half jogging and sliding down the dip in the cliff side until he came to Ashalon's stony perch. Durai didn't follow, but remained above and eyeing the nearby tree that branched over the pair with untrusting anticipation. Simultaneously, both brothers lifted their hands to their respected animals and did the same hand sign. Both wolf and leopard relaxed a little, waiting with patience.
“Fine, I'll finish it myself.” Ashalon cleared his throat.
“What are you doing here?” Farwyn interrupted his brother. He crossed his arms and stood just to the side of the rock, glaring with an expression often used to keep others from making friendly chatter. Ashalon opened his mouth as if to make a quip, but then faltered and let out a small sigh. He twisted himself around to face Farwyn, still sitting with his arms draped over his pretzel-folded legs.
“I came here to get answers and to get you to come home.” He said, knowing that blunt honesty was the only way the conversation was going to happen.
“I'm not leaving and there's nothing to say.” Farwyn growled, gesturing firmly back down the small path that twisted through the cliffs. “Leave.”
“No.” Ashalon replied in equal firmness, staring back with a wrinkle upon his nose. “Don't bullshit me, Far. I know we're not on the best of terms, but back in Draenor you made it clear that there was a chance to mend things. Then you suddenly closed off, packed up your things and left. I know it's been awhile, but it hasn't been that long. You don't just leave shit like that. You, you don't leave home like that.”
Farwyn pressed his lips together thinly and averted his eyes. For the first time in awhile, he had dropped his Alternius' charade and felt like he didn't belong in his own skin. Still, the warrior didn't reply as he found his tongue unwilling to move. What did Ashalon want him to say? Did his brother really expect him to just tell him everything? The rift between them was too deep still, wasn't it?
“Please.” Ashalon broke the silence, frowning as he stared at his contemplative brother. “You don't trust me, I get it. That's why you never told me you had a daughter. That's why you never told me what happened to you before I arrived in Draenor. Is it a shitty feeling that my own brother didn't tell me I was an uncle? Yea. I wanted to punch you. I wanted to come here and knock you on your ass and beat you back to Quel'thalas.” Ash drew in a deep breath and finally looked away, eyeing the beautiful landscape of Mulgore. “But then I realized that I haven't given you a reason to trust me again in years. Still, we're brothers Farwyn. I can sense when something is really off with you. Hell, everyone can sense it, but you're so good at pushing them away that they've been tricked into thinking it's alright.”
Again, Ashalon was answered without words. Silence remained between the two brothers and in that moment, Ashalon could feel the palpable wall that had been constructed between them. Farwyn's expression was unmoved as he bore the weight of his gaze downward and nothing but a light breeze filled the air with noise. Perhaps it was a minute. Maybe five. Farwyn glanced back in the direction he had come, mind wandering to his home in Quel'thalas. No, his home was here now. This little sliver of Mulgore was supposed to be his escape. His paradise.
Even though here, I couldn't escape.
“Are you just going to give me the silent treatment? I'm not leaving, you know. I'm going to keep my ass on this rock until I get some sort of damn answer.” Ashalon said, forcing Farwyn's gaze to flicker back to his brother. Ash lifted his chin up, adopting a stubborn expression with puffy cheeks before he pointedly turned away to look out at Mulgore.
[Music]
A moment of contemplation later and a begrudging sigh, Farwyn moved up on the rock and plopped down next to his brother. In that moment, side by side, their resemblance was familiar despite their differences. While Farwyn was taller and thicker with muscle, both brothers had broad shoulders that contrasted sharply with their waistline. While Ashalon's facial features were a tad softer and elegant, both brother's had sharp eyes and strong jawlines.
“I came here to get away.” Farwyn spoke deeply, his voice containing its usual graveled edge. “Obviously, I know. It's... difficult to explain or talk about.”
“Try.” Ashalon said, quieting his tone a little. Both brothers continued to stare out at the landscape, not eyeing each other. It was sunny out and cloudless, the rays of the sun sometimes blinding as they reflected off of distant pools of water and grass.
“It's a lot of things. I...” Farwyn sighed with agitation, grinding his teeth together a little as he struggled. He hadn't talked about this before with anyone. No one had forced him to talk. Well, perhaps no one could except for his brother. He didn't really know. “... I didn't tell you about Elysia because you're right. I don't trust you. That girl has dealt with enough and the last thing she needs is an Uncle who will win her over and then abandon her. You understand that, right?”
It hurt. It hurt a lot to hear the sharp blunt words, but Ashalon was more grieved because there was a basis for them. Right or wrong, agree or not- it wasn't as if Farwyn had come to that conclusion without any foundation. Not to mention the fact that Ashalon had found out from Vincint, which had meant that his brother trusted their exiled cousin more. He still couldn't wrap his head around it, but that wasn't important. He had time.
“I get it.” Ashalon replied slowly, drawing in a deep breath. “Why did you leave, Farwyn?” Again, he returned to the same question.
“Because I couldn't stay anymore!” Farwyn snapped sharply, irritated that Ashalon continued to press forward. His brow furrowed as he scowled out at the sky, clenching his jaw. Of course, silence now greeted him in return. It was his brother's way of patiently stating that he would wait for him to give a better answer than that.
“You said you heard what happened in that frozen shithole, right? I was kept in a pitch black cave and I didn't know how much damn time passed. After awhile, you can't make heads or tails of days or times. I was poisoned, cursed, cut, burned, experimented-I could tell you about every muddled, miserable experience and we'd be here well into morning. It was hell. I've never wanted to die in my life before, but there... I thought about it.”
“ Then after when I escaped, I thought about it again.” Farwyn's voice dropped quietly, his throat tightening as he felt his hands shake and grow clammy. He needed to stop talking. He didn't want to tell Ashalon any of it.
But his mouth continued to move.
“The one thought I had in my head- the one that kept me alive and got me out- was that I'd return and things would go back to normal. They'd be better than normal, sweet even. That someone would give a damn enough to save me from this fucking horror I keep living through.That sweetness was what I wanted to taste and to have in my hands again. You know what I got instead? More bullshit. I had to be the goddamn pillar of strength again or fuck me, I was a selfish asshole. Then to top it off, I found out those fucking Warlocks managed to get the last laugh.”
Farwyn grasped at the edges of his gray linen shirt and pulled it up, exposing his torso briefly and the pulsing violet scars beneath. “My prize was all that and a death sentence. So then all I could think about was how the fuck would I tell Elysia? How do I make sure everyone is okay when I'm gone? So I tried, Ashalon. I fucking tried my hardest to do what was best for everyone, but in return I felt as if I killed a best friend, broke another and nothing I'd accomplished was good enough. I almost gave up, but the single person who actually kept me together was my seven year old daughter. How messed up is that?!”
The warrior's voice had risen again to a yell and he quickly bit his tongue. His hands were folded within each other and he bowed his head, hair drifting to block his face a little. He could have continued ranting, he knew. He also knew it'd been a couple of months and he should be over it by now. He was a warrior. He was a Ken'doranel. He could practically hear their mother's voice chastising him for being weak or for running away. Gods and Titans, he felt like an idiot and a fool. He felt stupid for opening up and admitting all of it outloud.
How weak was he? How pathetic.
“It's not messed up.” Ashalon said firmly, looking over to his defeated brother. A part of him felt numb and taken aback- he had no idea this kind of storm was inside of Farwyn. His older brother had always been a pinnacle of calm and yea, he hid things. Yet he had no idea how much had been bottled down this time. A death sentence? That phrase had struck Ashalon cold, just like the self-depreciating words that strung along with them. Now isn't the time to prod. He drew in a breath and raised a hand up, hesitating before he placed a firm hand upon Farwyn's shoulder.
“You're not a pillar, Farwyn. You're a Sin'dorei. You're allowed to have emotions and to suffer. It's not a weakness to feel the way you're feeling. It takes a strong person to have the emotions you do and to keep walking forward. Even if your footsteps led you here.”
Farwyn drew in a deep breath through his nose, quickly composing himself in the way only a veteran could. He lifted his head and looked over to Ashalon, mulling over his words before he simply dipped his head once in a nod and then turned his muted gaze to Mulgore.
“I certainly feel weak.” He lifted a hand to rake his fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh. A beat later, he chewed the inside of his cheek and shrugged off Ashalon's hand. “Now you know why I came here. Why I left.”
Ashalon nodded thoughtfully and looked away, letting the silence stretch on between them. He knew what it was like to feel weak and to feel responsible. He couldn't claim he knew exactly how Farwyn felt since he hadn't been in a position or experience that the warrior had endured, but he had an imagination. He had empathy. It wasn't until Farwyn shifted, stretching his legs to move off of the rock that Ashalon quickly spoke up again.
“You still should come back to Quel'thalas.”
Farwyn paused and stiffly looked to Ashalon, his recovered expression armed with a grumpy frown yet again.
“Didn't I just explain-”
“Yea, you did.” Ashalon inclined his head, “But coming out here isn't the answer. All of that you just poured out? Coming here didn't alleviate that, did it? It just forced you to bottle it up. I'm not saying getting away for awhile wasn't good and I know you brought Elysia out with you. I know you've been fighting in the guild again. So you took a little vacation, but it's time to come back home.”
“For what? So I can pretend things are the same?”
“No. Things won't be the same, but there are others who do care about you. They might be a little stupid and selfish now and again, but that's just apart of being alive. We're all a little stupid and selfish. You don't have to lead the Dusksworn either, but I do have a few ideas about the organization's true intentions that I think you were trying to do all along. I just...” Ashalon's voice trailed off as he struggled to find the words. Damn, now that he was put on the spot it was suddenly difficult. “... I just know you, Farwyn. You can't grow up for over a century together and not know your brother. If you stay here, you'll still be miserable. Back home you at least have a chance.”
Farwyn pressed his lips together as he slid off of the rock and rose to stand, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared down at the ground, attempting to find words to retort back at Ashalon. Yet all the warrior could manage to do was mull over his brother's words and find a ring of truth to them. Had coming to Mulgore made him any happier? No. The only brightness was Elysia, but that would be found anywhere as long as she was there with him.
“Going back will cause problems.” He stated simply without thinking, swallowing harshly.
“Staying here has already cause problems.” Ashalon paused, drawing in a breath as he grew a little thoughtful. “Far... people will make their own decisions. You can't make it for them. Right now, you have to do what's best for you and for Elysia too, right? Unless you honestly believe keeping her hermited away in Mulgore is the best for her.”
It was a low blow and both brothers grimaced, knowing about it. Still, while Ashalon felt guilty for bringing up his daughter, he felt earnest about his opinion and Farwyn knew he was right. He had known for awhile that Elysia wasn't really better off in Mulgore. She needed to play with other children. She was too close to where she had lived before he had come into her life. She needed to be around others and have a surrounding that would let her grow and flourish. Even with her lessons in Orgrimmar and his training, it wasn't enough. She needed... no, she deserved a nice home. Good food. Good books. A comfortable bed.
“...” Farwyn was silent for a moment, his back turned to his brother before he let out a defeated sigh. If he went back to Quel'thalas, it meant dealing with the people again. Sure, there were good people there. Yet there was also a lot of bullshit. A lot of underhanded dealings, political webs, struggles for power and a hell basket inbetween each of them.
Yet it still was home and he couldn't deny that.
[ Music ]
“I'll think about it.” He finally replied, the words tasting bittersweet upon his tongue. How in the world his brother had managed to sound sensical was beyond him, but he wasn't so stubborn to deny it. When had his younger brother grown up in such a way? Since when had he been so understanding and calm? They were only a few years apart, but Ashalon had always acted immature for his age and Farwyn had always acted far too old.
Had the rift between them shortened somehow and they hadn't noticed?
No. That wasn't right. He still couldn't forget what had happened between them. He still couldn't forgive it, yet...
“If I do come back.” Farwyn whirled around suddenly, eyes boring into Ashalon with a flash of conviction. “Then you need to do something as well.”
Ashalon blinked and his eyebrows lifted, somewhat surprised by the force of his words and the sudden fierce look upon his brother's expression. It made him abruptly cautious.
“What?”
“Stop this farce of you being some monk.” Farwyn lifted his arms and crossed them over his chest, head tilting downward slightly. “Take up the bow again. It's only been a couple years, it'll come back naturally enough.”
“I like being the way I am!” Ashalon protested, gesturing to himself. “I've learned a lot of stu-”
“Bullshit. You learned some new tricks in Pandaria. Good for you, but just like I didn't fool you... you're not fooling me. You miss it, just like you miss being great at something and you're shitty at this monkfu crap. You're wasting your talent because you're afraid.”
Just like that, a trap had been laid out. Ashalon was afraid and the last thing he wanted to do was test his limits again. While he doubted anyone would understand his terror, he wasn't sure if anyone had felt so dependent on a single limb before. He still had the phantom pains. He still could remember... Ashalon's thoughts trailed off and he inwardly cursed. How could he say no just after his discussion with Farwyn? It would mark him as a hypocrite and he very well might lose the ground the had just gained.
And his asshole of a brother knew it too.
Despite everything, he had been quick-witted enough to take ahold of the chance, even if they both were a tad emotionally drained.
“So... we're making a deal then.” Ashalon responded carefully, eyeing his brother. “I slap on the old sniping hat and play Farstrider and you'll come back to Quel'thalas?”
Farwyn still had the bittersweet taste in his mouth and he wrinkled his nose. He hated this deal. It was forcing him to do something he didn't want to do, even if it was for the best. Ashalon was mirroring his brother with the same slightly disgusted look, but yet neither of them could back out at this point. They both had made some ground.
“Deal.”
"Strength. Perseverance. Yet above all, Loyalty."
- Family emphasis the Ken'doranel brothers grew up with.
(( Just a big thank you to those who sent me prompts today. It gave me an immense amount of cheer and I just really appreciate it. So here, have my anime inspiration for Farwyn and Ashalon! Diarmuid and Cu Chulainn! >:D Dem Lancer boys! I... um, have a little obsession with them, okay? ))
“You know, it'd go a long way- that's all I'm saying. After all, we are allies now aren't we? It says a lot to encourage good business and relations! Plus... look, I'm not trying to make assumptions here but... wouldn't it be the honorable thing to do? We did sort of protect your home from getting destroyed by those Thunderlord jerks. I mean, there are others looking over here. They could see you turn me away and I don't know about you buddy, but people can make nasty assumptions.”
The monk hummed to himself as he departed Wor'gol and headed out onto the snowy tundra. His mouth was stuffed full of freshly cooked boar meat and he held half of a warm loaf of bread in the other. The Orc hadn't wanted to give him any freebies, but in the end the monk had won him over. Ashalon had actually used the same tactic on several other locals to acquire supplies, although he actually paid for those- it wasn't his money anyway.
The monk had been sent to Wor'gol to get a few selective items for the Dusksworn back at the Outpost. It had been labeled as a “mission,” but Ashalon hadn't been fooled in the slightest. It was painfully obvious that it wasn't anything more than a simple errand, but for now he was going along with it. His brother was testing his commitment and regardless of their conflicting feelings, Ash wasn't about to give Farwyn the satisfaction of pushing him away again. He had come to Draenor for two purposes and he would be damned if he gave up on either of them.
All things considered, he thought his reunion with Farwyn a week or so ago had gone fairly well.
“... I'm contemplating throwing you out.”
“Ah, just contemplating? Well see? We're already making progress.”
“You're lucky you caught me at a bad time or -”
“Or what? You'd fall into another tantrum? Did you forget what happened last time we met? I don't like to pull the 'you owe me at least this' card, but now you're forcing me to do it. You owe me, Far.”
There had been a palpable silence as the injured warrior glowered near his table of papers, visibly tense simply from Ashalon's arrival. The red-haired monk waited patiently for a response, staring his blonde brother down until finally he let out a begrudging breath.
“Fine. You want to help? I'll give you a chance. The moment you fuck up or falter though, I'll beat you down myself.”
“Joy. It'll be just like old times then.”
“Some things never change, do they Sundrah?” Ashalon spoke to the crisp air, glancing to his right. A large tiger followed the monk, corded muscles rippling with every gait the impressive feline took. Her cunning eyes flickered to Ashalon in silence, although her large tongue flicked out absently over her muzzle. Her armored form was weighed down with a few parcels, but in true cat fashion the orange beast appeared as if she hadn't the faintest care in the world about it. He cracked a grin towards her and took a chomp out of the loaf he held, chewing thoughtfully.
Even if he was doomed to carry out menial tasks and play puppet for his brother for now, at least the company had been interesting. The Outpost was a bustling hive of activity and already the monk had a sense of who was who and what was what. There also didn't seem to be a shortage of jobs to do or enemies to dispatch. Uncharacteristically, somehow his antisocial brother had made friends and lasting connections- although he doubted the warrior would admit to any of it. In a way, it really did remind him of the old times.
“We're going to have fun out here, Sun.” Ash said with a mouthful of food, the snow crunching beneath his feet as they walked. A wind occasionally brisked by them, but the monk didn't seem to give a damn about the cold. He just kept grinning to himself as he mulled over the possibilities.
♀ Are you proud of what your children have become?
“A simple question, yet the answer is a complicated matter. There are roles or aspects that my children have taken upon themselves which do not settle well with me. The discord between my two sons disgusts me, even as I keep an open mind how such things occurred. It was not unexpected, but they shame their family by neglecting their familial bonds. In particular, Ashalon brings me grief for abandoning what the Ken’doranel’s stood for and Farwyn the same for refusing to mend the damage.
“However, they are my children. The trials and tribulations that they have endured have been immense, especially considering the fact that most they have undergone alone and without support. They have survived where others have not and overcome dangers that even I could not fathom. For that, I am quite proud of them.”
