#lordivan!ted

[bearnamedted]

Enter queenoffaeriesx

He tensed uneasily, feeling the uncomfortable shift in the air. It was unmistakable, and completely unfair that some should be blessed with such power and others left to fight fire with dry kindling. "Magic?"

[bearnamedted]

Lord's Work || Merida and Lord Ivan

He was angry.

Things were supposed to be easier for people in power. They lived the luxurious life, after all. A little bit of declaring laws, the weight of a crown, those were supposed to be the hardest part of ruling. Pity that the new lord never inherited his father's ability to rule in time of peace.

In times of war, that was where the young lord won his bannermen's allegiance. By leading battles, taking a score of men from his father's army and laying waste to the invading southern men. The young lord knew how to manage plunder, he knew how to wield a great battleaxe and inspire men to fall behind him. He did not know the subtleties of picking up a plow and racing against the winter winds to get crops to grow. He knew how to hunt deer and foxes for sports, but not the small game that his folk relied on.

Various consultants had whispered to him.

My lord, they're turned to looting in the east near Elkwood.

My lord, our own coffers are suffering.

My lord, I would not wish to criticize you, but raised taxes will only may them hate you.

My lord, the common folk are coming to the castle walls begging.

The young lord, tired of hearing the title reverberate in his ears, dismissed all of them, retreating back into his own quarters. Yet even there, he found no solace, the clamor of the commoners still pounded through his skull, a hint of it slipping through the stone of the fortress.

Tucked under a thick cloak to keep out the chill, the young lord rode. Deep into the forest, in hopes that he would not find another mortal. Little did the young lord expect the trappers of the forest. However, they sparked an idea. They spoke of other clans to the east. The young lord smelled the profit of trade.

Months later, after the exchange of emissaries, the lord--not quite as young as he once was, time seemed to be tenfold when he ruled--journeyed for a more personal arrangement. Trade was always there between the lands, but only between a few merchants, something more official, that would take careful weaving and trust.

The necessary formalities passed, slowly as if every moment was a spear prod. He felt as though the smallest movement would send the whole matter into chaos. He was the Lord Ivan Kronya, following his father's line, and he would make this work. He would not lose his family's name and good standing. This had to work.

Finally, the pomp and circumstance was over. The lords would discuss matters after dinner. Until then, Ivan had the walk of the stones. Which he intended to take advantage of.