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Post by Mircea Dracul II on Nov 8, 2008 15:24:55 GMT -5
Home.
Was that the best definition for the towering Castle that Mircea was approaching? The looming palace surrounded with towers, and walls. Screaming of long dead pasts and ghosts that would never rest. It bled power from a heart that it had held for centuries. The Dracul line had been living in Transylvania Castle for years, more so than Mircea dared to study about. Who really knew how much the Castle held in its walls. The secrets that it dared never whisper, unless you were willing to listen and dig into the deepest dungeon, to uncover the forgotten stones that would tell you their stories, that would tell you a first hand history as to what really has occurred at this dreadful place. Dreadful…no, he was wrong in saying that. Dreadful was not the word he was looking to use to describe Transylvania Castle, instead…perhaps, it was just…imposing. She was an intimidating structure to every lay one’s eyes upon, and yet, if you were of her heart, she was more welcoming than a mothers arm.
Perhaps that’s what made her home.
Mircea pulled the reins of his stallion to a harsh stop, steadying the horse after it pranced wildly at such an abrupt gait change. The Hazel eyes of the former King, now Prince looked upon the castle towers with a sense of awe and amazement. It had stood since he could remember, and it almost seemed unchanging. With a gentile smile resting across his face he spurred the horse forward, the black beast pushing into a fast canter across the drawbridge. As he rode forth, the guards at the gate stepped aside, knowing well the banners that the stallion wore, and knowing well Mircea’s own attire when he rode to the Castle. It was hard to mistake him for anyone else.
He slowed his horse enough to dismount, and handed the reins to a stable hand that was waiting. With a smile and a sigh of contentment he let his gaze shift along the walls, and even up, into the sky as he stood in the courtyard of the beautiful castle. With a smile he turned, and made his way into the main hall. Vlad would be here, he was sure of that. Since his younger brother had taken the throne Mircea had seen little of his sibling, and personally for Mircea, that had hurt him the most. Since their parents death, Mircea had worked as hard as he could to take care of his family, from his cousins to his brothers. He had failed at a point, and stress became overwhelming as his home was taken from him, and he was driven into the woods like worthless peasants. Yet…Vlad had the upper hand, and had taken the Castle back by storm, and has been ruling beautifully sense. It was better…Mircea supposed, that Vlad held the high position. He knew what he was doing, Vlad always had that smarter intellect, Vlad thought plans through more thoroughly than Mircea did...but he was working on that.
With a bounce in his step he made his way two by two up the stairs and onto the second floor, pausing a moment he glanced around, not seeing anyone or hearing anything that could dictate where someone may be on this massive floor. He gave a soft hm, and made his way to the left, moving towards what he knew to be the library. As he walked he fixed his attire, the simple black and gold long coat fit his body snugly, and the black vest and shirt he wore underneath only allowed the gold to be more obvious and vibrant. His knee high boots made their illustrious clacking as he walked, and if he knew better, he would hear Vlad coming as well, the two seemed to have a similar taste in clothing, down to their very shoes.
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Post by Vlad Dracul III on Nov 8, 2008 23:52:04 GMT -5
Vlad looked up with a smile as he heard Mircea enter the library. Like him, his brother wore expensive boots that had an unfortunate habit of making a lot of noise. He had just been going over some previous peace agreements, trying to decide where to begin the one he was about to write. It pained him to even think of making a treaty with the hated Ottomans, the ones who had destroyed his life and killed his parents, but he had no choice. This castle, and this land, had belonged to his family for so long and he would never give it up. His father had died for it and he knew he would do the same. It ran in their blood and the crown gave them more than a title, while most lords ruled a few manners and a few acres of farmland at most, the Draculs controlled all of Transylvania and that honor came with the duty to protect it.
As Vlad peered at his brother, the one who had allowed him to take the throne, he knew he wasn't the only one who had made tremendous sacrifices, ones no one not of their blood would understand, to ensure their families rule continued. He had given up his position to his younger brother, knowing Vlad had been better suited to kingship. Mircea had done an excellent job, and Vlad would always admire him for it, but he wasn't like Vlad. He didn't have the same ruthlessness, the same ability to put aside his own morals and emotions for the sake of his people. He would have been a good ruler during more peaceful times, but the present era demanded cunning and ruthlessness.
Vlad wondered how he would have felt, if he had lost his position. He had never expected to become king, but he relished the power he now held and his influence over his land and people. If he had never become king, he would have been a piece in the chess game, but now he was the player. And, as in chess, there was no room for compassion. Someday soon, he would marry and to his wife alone could he set aside his politics. She was beautiful, of course, and she would bear him children to continue his line and hopefully someday, he could retire and watch, quietly advising from the sidelines, as his son ruled. But maybe Mircea would seek the honor for one of his own children. If he did, and his son was better qualified than Vlad's, his brother wouldn't deny him. He had sacrificed so much for his country, and if necessary, his brother would do the same. In so many ways, they were alike, although as those who truly knew them could attest, they were certainly different people.
"Greetings, brother," Vlad leaned back slightly in his chair, "It is good to see you are getting on well. I've just been looking through some past peace treaties, trying to decide what to present to the Ottomans. It has to be made so that they can't break it, but when the times comes, I can. Peace may be necessary for now, the land and our soldiers need time to recover, but someday, I will get my revenge on them. They will wish they never killed our parents. If I wasn't king, I would be out on my horse right now, sword in hand and murder in my eyes. But, as matters stand, I have to limit myself to more, shall we say, diplomatic solutions."
His father had known very well how to play the subtle game of international politics and Vlad had learned much from his namesake. He knew that only foolish man used a sword where words would do just as well. And no one in their family was a fool, that was how they had continued to rule for so long despite repeated attacks by the Ottomans. If his eldest child was foolish, Vlad would certainly find a way to ensure that he did not inherit. Family ties were important, but keeping the throne in Dracul hands mattered even more. No other king could understand the fierce beauty and power of Transylvania, the politics of its courts, the needs of its citizens. Vlad had left his homeland only once, on a short trip to France, and he knew none of the other kings would be able to rule it wisely and justly. Their lands, with their mild weather and large cities, required very little effort and they knew how much they could ask of their people. But the weather was fiercer here, ice cold in the winter and the blizzards were the true king, they couldn't be expected to respect nature's whims. But they would never rule her, he would see to that. By the end of his reign, Transylvania would be powerful enough to defeat any enemy.
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Post by Mircea Dracul II on Nov 9, 2008 0:24:17 GMT -5
The library, he did know his brother well. Mircea couldn’t hold back the smile that crossed his features as he entered the room, seeing Vlad sitting there, still regal looking as ever, but perhaps thin, and working on some documents. It was another strong point of his brothers, Vlad was much better and rewriting a treaty or document sixteen times just to make sure it sounded right. Mircea could only rewrite it three before he got fed up enough with it. Vlad had the stamina to rule with a more iron fist, a stronger, harsher reaction to threats and violence. Mircea, Mircea had a problem with bending his morals in any fashion to do anything drastic, nothing as drastic as he’d seen Vlad do. While Mircea would put down any freedoms and his own life for his people, Vlad would do more, he would go above and beyond his call of duty to protect Transylvania, it was what Mircea admired most about his younger sibling, and was why he had graciously handed over the crown to him.
“Greetings Vlad.” Mircea smiled as he approached the desk Vlad was working at. Peering down at the papers as Vlad spoke, Mircea glanced over the documents briefly, before looking back to his brother with a soft smile resting on his face. “You and I both would ride with murder in our gaze…but as you said, Diplomacy is what is going to seal a short future…revenge will come later.” Mircea picked up one paper, knowing well his brother wouldn’t snap on him for reading it over. Taking a quick glance Mircea nodded in approval, and smiled. “You did always know how to speak far more eloquently than I.” He grinned as he set the paper back down. “Now, I know your ridiculously busy working on very important treaties…but It’s been very long since you and I got to sit and chat, brother to brother.” Mircea rested his hands on the edge of the desk, leaning down and forward, watching Vlad. “So either we wrap up your work and go, or we go for a ride and come back.” A smile crossed Mircea’s mouth once more. “What do you say?”
It had to have been a while, a long while. Vlad looked different from when Mircea last remembered. Had it really been that long? He would nearly bet gold on it. He hadn’t heard any recent news about Vlad’s engagement, hadn’t heard how things have been going, any issues in the court, any other problems that Mircea might not already know about. He knew some things, but not enough to be in the full swing of Court life. He had spent many days with his wife, relaxing and enjoying his step away from his title and namesake. While it could be considered horrible, Mircea knew that Vlad could take care of Transylvania just fine. Considering he had taken over when Mircea had lost the country, and had regained it back…Vlad was far more capable.
Yet, even though his brother was the king of Transylvania, taking the crown of their father on his head and ruling just as well, if not better. Mircea knew one key thing that Vlad needed more than any title, or rank could provide. He needed family, and no matter how much the duties piled on, a break now and again was like seeing the best doctor. It was letting all of your stresses out, talking about your problems, talking about questions you had, even if you could answer them yourself. Sometimes, talking to another person solved the problem easier than slaving away on it yourself. Vlad had been working hard on these horrid Peace Treaties for a while now, and no matter how many copies he had come up with, the correct words would come out eventually, and perhaps, some fresh air and going out for a ride and a brother to brother talk, could clear the air, and put all the words in his mind in perfect order.
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Post by Vlad Dracul III on Nov 9, 2008 1:03:18 GMT -5
"Sure," Vlad put down the pen, leaving it on top of the parchment for later, "I'm at a good point to end for the day. I can come back later and put on the finishing touches. And as for eloquence, I doubt the Ottomans will appreciate it. They could stand a little more appreciation for the subtle art of the written word themselves. But how can we, in all fairness, expect them to build a culture as advanced as ours when they spend so much time trying to steal our territory. But someday, perhaps, they will learn just in time to learn exactly how large a mistake they made in trying to conquer us. They never will, because they could never understand us, understand that trickery can be as powerful as strength. But for now, Mircea, let's go for a ride. I'm sure they will never know I took a few hours off to ride with my brother."
Vlad gently placed the parchment within one of the drawers. He did wish the Ottomans would appreciate his refined writings and he knew he needn't have bothered, but habits were difficult to break. Most of his documents were meant for intelligent, civilized kings who would read it with judgement in their eyes. He couldn't find much about the Ottomans to compliment, but he doubted they would even notice if he put a comma in the wrong place. In many ways, he felt contempt for him, and yet they had nearly managed to drive him from his home. Their lack of civility made this all the more insulting. If any were to force his family from their lands, they should at least be from a great and powerful nation, well schooled in the arts of war and diplomacy alike. Although the Ottomans knew more of the land than the wealthier European Kings did, he held them in even lower regard. He doubted most of them could even read.
But he needed to stop thinking of politics for a moment. He had been staying up at night in order to complete this treaty for the past week. It was time to take a break. It would be ready in time, there would be no war this year. Dark rings had begun to form under his eyes and the other day, he had thought he saw a wrinkle for a moment. He grinned wryly to himself. Still young and already showing the signs of age. When others spoke of power, no mentioned that unpleasant aspect. But it was worth it knowing that, thanks to his efforts, his lands were safe and the people were prospering. None of them could understand the pride he felt in seeing well tended fields rich with crops. He sometimes rode by and examined the produce, the best he could remember, and the peasants would wonder why their king was so interested in the food. He would always eat. They didn't realize that his greatest achievement, in his mind, was represented in the peaceful lives his people now led.
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Post by Mircea Dracul II on Nov 9, 2008 16:26:17 GMT -5
That was perhaps the fastest that Vlad had ever agreed with Mircea. He smiled, and as his brother stood to join him, his smile didn’t fade. He knew how important these peace treaties, no matter how useless they may seem, meant to Vlad. It was a chance to put a leash on the Ottomans, and yet, at the same point, give the Transylvanian Empire a chance to bite back if they needed to. It was restraining the Ottoman empire, and that was going to be best for the people of Transylvania. No matter how much both Vlad, and Mircea felt about them, they had to try. Even if the Ottomans couldn’t read, which Mircea was damn sure they couldn’t. Yet, they had no choice, at least it seemed, and if they did, Vlad knew the difference. Vlad was a leader who knew which choice was going to be best, simply by his logic, and understanding. Vlad had traveled more then Mircea, and in doing so had seen the other cultures in a different light. It opened up his younger brother to a world of understanding, and therefore, better leadership.
But Vlad was right, enough politics. The two bothers were going to go out for a long ride, a long, relaxing, politic less ride. At least Mircea could only hope so, most of the time even he spent was dwelling over history of politics and understanding what went wrong in the past to better help and support Vlad’s future. It was Mircea’s solemn goal, even when it came to him having his own children, was to support and help Vlad as much as he could, and see his brother become one of the famous rulers that history would write about and sing about. Mircea wanted to see his younger brother become something great and grand, see him achieve the unachievable, and become even better than their father was. While Vlad Dracul I was an amazing leader, and a brilliant mastermind, it was only right for Mircea to wish his brother, who was now king, to become greater than that.
“Good. I’m glad your joining me, It’s been a while.” Mircea smiled as the pair reached the courtyard, and he nodded to the stable boy to bring the horses. “I do believe we have a lot to talk about brother, considering that you’ve been spending your time slaving away over a brilliant treaty that these Ottomans will never understand. I don’t even remember the last time you and I sat down, or even had a good heart to heart.” Mircea grinned, placing his leather gloves back on. “How’s Alexandreina doing? How’s your personal life doing? You look ridiculously tired and worn out Vlad.” Mircea’s nearly fatherly tone was coming out, and his hand was resting on his brothers shoulder, a firmer grip, making his gentile point known that Vlad was working too hard. Though it was his job, Vlad did need a break now and then.
As the stable boy returned, with the two beautiful horses in tow, Mircea gave Vlad a gentile shake, and a light pat on the shoulder. Taking the reins from the boy, who bowed then turned to leave he handed the reins of Vlad’s horse to him. “A ride on the countryside my dear brother? Perhaps go visit your prospering people?” A wide smile crossed Mircea’s face once more. Both in humor, and in joy that he was getting tired and worn looking Vlad out for some fresh air, and relaxation.
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Post by Vlad Dracul III on Nov 9, 2008 21:27:58 GMT -5
"Wherever you want to go," Vlad laughed, "I don't think I've been outside in at least a week. You probably know about what's going on than I do. For a little while, I could have sworn I was living a hundred years ago as a clerk and reading over my lord's papers. And then I remembered that, after I had finished reading the treaties, I had to write them. And all this for an alliance I'm not even sure I want. I'd much rather be spending some time with Alexandreina. I still don't believe she agreed to marry me. Soon, she'll be my queen and someday, when this is all over, we can retire to a peaceful life in the mountains and let our children run the kingdom. I'm sure I'll be watching them constantly, but hopefully they'll do better than I did. And, if I ever do willingly agree to live the rest of my life in idleness, it will be long after I've ensure continued peace. But I just can't picture it now. I can picture Alexandreina alright, I know she'll look absolutely beautiful in her wedding gown, no matter how much it cost me," he smiled indulgently at the memory of when he had first heard the price, "But, God willing, she will only marry once and she deserves the best. How's your lovely wife doing? And as for my personal life, I really haven't had one recently. I swear, I've had so little time to spend with her, and now I expect her to love me anyway. I don't just want a pretty woman to walk besides me and I think she really understands me, but I know it's been harder on her than on me. At least I have something to occupy myself while she ends up sitting at home doing needlework or whatever it is women do when they're bored. After this treaty is signed, I'm going to go away for at least a month and not even think about this court."
But even as Vlad swung up onto his horse, a beautiful black stallion that had been a gift from his future in law, he knew he would never be able to truly forget. He patted the horse's neck and waited for Mircea to mount. The gift of the beautiful black Fane had been more than just a present. It had been a reminder that he had better treat Alexandreina well. He hoped that she would never need to understand the court proceedings. Whenever he looked at her, she seemed so innocent, so beautiful, and made his heart beat faster in his chest. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and he hoped that Radu and Mihaela the only two currently single Draculs, would be as lucky. He knew Radu, with his charm and good looks should find a bride easily enough, once he found one he desired, but Mihaela was a different story. Although she was undeniably beautiful and seductive, seeming to draw men to her, he doubted she would find one who struck her fancy. She never would be able to understand how sometimes the tiny flaws in a person could just make you appreciate them all the more.
Vlad kicked his horse to a trot and rode off, unsure if his brother was following. Whether he was or not, Vlad would wait for Mircea by the gates. His brother had spoken truly when he stated how long it had been since they had spent any time together. He missed his brother's calming presence. Of all his siblings, Mircea was the one he was closest to and their separation hurt more than all the others combined. They were only one year apart and he had known Mircea his entire life. As his only full sibling and the only other one who had ruled, he had more in common with his brother than he did with his two half siblings. He understood the responsibilities of running a kingdom and never failed to improve Vlad's mood. While he was always protecting the others, Mircea protected him and it felt nice not to be the one in charge for a change. Although the crown had passed between brothers, Vlad would always listen to what Mircea had to say and he respected his brother's opinions more than he respected any others', sometimes including his own.
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Post by Mircea Dracul II on Nov 10, 2008 14:10:06 GMT -5
Mircea listened with a smile as his brother spoke. It clearly had been far too long from the last time Vlad had taken some time off his duties to just relax. Every king needed to relax now and then, even the king of Transylvania. Mircea remembered his short reign as king, and the numerous times that he had gone out for a walk with his dogs, or even taken his horse out for a stroll or a run along the countryside. Mircea needed the air many a times, as a sort of canvas, something he could spread all his ideas out upon, and eventually by the time he got back to the castle, they would be funneled into a steady, even thought process he could write down into words. Like Vlad, he had spent hours working over something that he thought in the end might fall in careless hands, but that was the cost of diplomacy, you would try so hard to make an even peace, only to find it sitting in the lap of a hungry wolf…peace…rarely ever went as smooth as one would hope. Yet, according to Vlad he had a way to make it so the Ottomans couldn’t break their end of the bargain, yet…they, as Transylvanians…could. It was genius, and Mircea would need to read up on it more.
Vlad simply put, was a genius.
Then the wife, or significant other. Mircea knew that very, very well. He half wondered himself why Elena even agreed to marry him, and stood before him as they were pronounced man and wife. While he’d die a thousand times over in the worst ways for her, he was truly blessed with such a woman. Vlad was the same, blessed with a noble beauty who would bear him perfect heirs, a woman who, even in her aging years would look like an exquisite work of art resting on Vlad’s noble arm. The two made the perfect, King – Queen pair. And they would both rule Transylvania perfectly in so many ways. Mircea was sure Elena could do the same, in fact he knew she could, but it seemed almost better that Elena had the more, quiet edge of Court Life, at least, it made him feel better.
Mircea laughed gently at Vlads’ comments of not having a personal life, and how he didn’t know how he could expect his intended to still love him. Oh, how Vlad sounded and reminded Mircea of himself back then. Spurring his horse into a trot he kept pace with Vlad, his own dark brown/black stallion keeping pace up beside Vlad’s stallion. “My brother, I sadly know what you mean why you say that.” Mircea grinned, glancing over at his brother. “You just get so wrapped up in court life, that your normal, everyday life is completely forgotten, sometimes you wonder why the women don’t just throw down the sticks and leave us.” Mircea laughed lightly, keeping his horse moving, knowing well Vlad would follow him. “Elena is doing well though, she spends most of her time doing…well, whatever the women do when we’re not about, other than that…she’d doing well.” Mircea smiled to his brother, in a way, pleased that his brother asked about Elena, in another way, happy to talk about her.
“Though I do believe you should be highly serious about taking a break from court life.” Mircea turned his gaze on Vlad firmly for a moment, before looking back down the pathway. “You look rather worn out Vlad, You need a break. Just finish this treaty, get it to the blasted Ottomans, and take a breather. You’ve been working nonstop, from what I’m hearing, and sounds like it’s time for you and Alexandreina to have quite a few days to yourselves, to just relax, see the countryside, and not have too many worries.” Mircea smiled to Vlad, and turned to lead his horse towards the more open, sprawling expanse of farmland. “Plus, You’ll always have Elena and I here. While your still far more suitable to ruling, You do need to relax. That, believe it or not brother, Is part of being King.” Mircea tossed a playful, teasing, yet knowing grin to Vlad. His words were mostly truth. Being a leader meant you had responsibility upon responsibility, and yet, at the same time, you needed to be able to take on every single one of those tasks, and you had to have a social life. You could only have them both if you took some time off. A lesson, often hard learned.
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Post by Vlad Dracul III on Nov 11, 2008 0:30:03 GMT -5
"Maybe I should take some time off," Vlad mused as he rode beside his brother, "They're probably all getting tired of seeing me every day and I'm sure some of them are yearning to use the library. But I only feel a little guilty about hoarding the books, my needs surpass theirs at the present time. I doubt I'll be able to take a break for at least a year, I need more time to ensure the peace continues, to squash any petty squabbles, but then I'll disappear with Alexandreina for an entire month. I think I'll take her to see the ocean, I know she'd love it. She's never been there, but watching the sun rise over the water is as close to magic as any can come in this world. When our first child is born, I want him to live his first two years away from palace, maybe by the sea or in the mountains. I wouldn't dare leave him alone, of course, but I would want to allow him to become who he truly is before getting entangled in court life. It took me years to find my place."
Vlad smiled as he remembered the hard time he had given his tutors during history lessons. Until his schooling had taken on a more practical nature, they had constantly called him "impossible" and stated that he lacked the desire to learn. One had even dared suggest that he was dull. But he was as intelligent as his siblings and by now, almost everyone understood that, His intelligence simply took a different form than Mircea's. His brother had always been the better student, but Vlad surpassed him at plotting and diplomacy. If only the tutor who had questioned his intelligence continued to live. She had been elderly at the time and had passed away a mere week after the comment. Although her cruel remark had wounded Vlad's pride, he still remembered her fondly. She had been one of his favorite tutors, always bringing him a sweet or a new toy. He had mourned her death, but she had been his last tutor. After her death, he had finally begun to learn the true arts of a prince.
Vlad liked to think that during his short period of rule he had proved himself a fair and capable king. He knew there had been incidents he could have handled better and a few punishments that had been too harsh, but he had attempted to regulate himself and none of the Transylvanians had rebelled yet, so whatever he was doing seemed to be working. He had finally managed to draft a treaty that only he could escape from. He had ensured that. He still had a few minor corrections but after having the brightest men in his court read it, he was content that his loophole was hidden well enough. It involved the death of family, deliberate murder, and the Ottomans would assume that as long as they allowed the Draculs to live they would be safe, but they wouldn't even realize he hadn't specifically stated they had to have been killed after the treaty's signing. If it came to war, the other rulers would side with him, he could use words to convince them to take his side and show them the deed to prove his legitimatecy. But that was many years in the future and it was highly unlike he would lead the campaign. It would be his son's war and hopefully by that time he would be living happily and peacefully with his wife.
"Once this treaty is signed and I've had a year to ensure continued stability," Vlad repeated solemnly, "I will take some time for myself. God willing, I will never need to use the treaty I now write. It will be many years until Transylvania fully recovers and even now, I am preparing for a war my son will command. I may not even be alive when it occurs, but it is the duty of each generation to ensure that everything is prepared for the next. And Alexandreina would murder me in my sleep if I did anything to put one of her children at risk. You remember how protective Mother used to be of us. And I pray that my future wife will have all the time in the world to watch her children grow. Then, someday we can move to a castle as far away from here as we can, otherwise I'd be tempted to meddle in the next king's business, and retire happily. You know, I'm still young, I shouldn't even be thinking about retirement yet. I'm beginning to see why Father let you take the throne so early."
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Post by Mircea Dracul II on Nov 11, 2008 23:06:45 GMT -5
Mircea smiled to Vlad as he spoke, listening to what his brother had to say. It was clear to Mircea, that no matter what, Vlad seemed to only relax from court life when he was with Alexandreina, but then again, Mircea couldn’t be too sure of that either. His brother was a good king, Mircea would never deny that, by any means, but perhaps, he was just too good. If that was even possible. Devoting so much of his time to his task as King, but then again, that’s what a King should do. Yet at the same time, being king meant more than just being locked away in a library writing treaties. Mircea couldn’t exactly put a sharp point on what Vlad would need to do instead. He already went out amongst his people and watched them, he had seen other countries and empires, Vlad was well rounded, and therefore a good king. But there just seemed something missing. Mircea didn’t know if he’d be able to pinpoint it just yet, perhaps Vlad needed to take a break at the Summer Manor up in the mountains. Yes…that was something Vlad was missing, a good night’s sleep with his Alexandreina, and a peaceful, relaxing day of absolutely nothing.
His comment about how it was no wonder their father let Mircea have the throne had Mircea laughing brightly. “It gets bloody tiring after a while, I won’t deny that one Brother. Yet you’ve been doing brilliantly; just take a break for a little while. I think you’ve been sticking your head in just a little too far. Granted, as a King I don’t expect you to sit high and pretty on your chair, but I think you’ve been letting everything consume you.” With that Mircea directed his horse towards the farms moreso, which would lead to the town below. “I’ve seen you out riding the fields, you should do that more often, that always helped me when stressed or tired.” Mircea let his horse move into a canter, having a good feeling Vlad would keep up. “Or get a dog.” Mircea turned to smile at Vlad. “Believe it or not, even though it can’t talk back, it’s a great inspiration and a good ear to talk to. They don’t judge you either or talk behind your back.” Mircea grinned, a teasing, playful grin to his brother.
“But most of all Vlad, make sure to relax, take a night out with Alexandreina and take a walk in the forest, walk through the plains before sunset, do something simple, yet wonderful. It’s like a breath of clean fresh air when you do. It gets your head together and neat, gets your thoughts organized, and most of all…helps you sleep.” Mircea gave his brother a knowing glance. The dark circles under Vlad’s eyes were key that he hadn’t been sleeping much, or he was overstressing. Mircea remembered what it was like, long nights awake trying to figure everything out, nights you couldn’t sleep because you couldn’t stop thinking about everything. Mircea remembered well, and that’s how Lucius came about, the hound becoming one of Mircea’s closest friends. Of course, with Elena, Mircea was always too eager to get home to her.
As Mircea crested a hill he pulled his horse to a stop, and turned to look down the hill towards the edge of the town. Turning to look at Vlad he smiled. “Which would you like to do brother? Ride free across the plain, or take a walk amongst the people?”
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Post by Vlad Dracul III on Nov 13, 2008 0:08:16 GMT -5
"Let's ride through the meadows and then loop back around so we can see the farms on our way back," Vlad grinned, "I need some time to go as fast as I can, but I also need to see what I'm doing this all for. Trust me, brother, as soon as I can, I'll be taking Alexandreina as far away as I can and we'll spend days doing nothing but riding, sleeping and watching the sun rise each morning. And maybe we'll even get a dog. Personally, I've never had time for a pet, but maybe soon I will. I'm sure once I have children, they'll all want a dog or a pony and I, in the long tradition of fathers who are fooled by their children's innocent eyes, will be obliged to buy them one. I might as well get everything done when there's still time."
The words Vlad didn't say, the ones that raced through his head, were Before I have my own life. He would always be Transylvania's, but when he married, he would no longer be fully hers. He knew that once he had Alexandreina in his arms and had first tasted peace, he wouldn't be able to return with the same single mindedness. That was part of why he pushed himself so hard, afraid to stop for a moment, afraid that if he fell asleep, he might never awaken again. He knew he couldn't continue living that way forever, but he would as long as he could. And he had Mircea and the rest of his family, although only his brother understood what it meant to be a king. Mircea must have felt even more isolated during his reign, with no one but his father to turn to. Back then, Vlad had helped whenever he could, but had never been able to imagine the weight of an entire nation resting upon his shoulders. But now he could and, most surprising of all, he was strong enough to keep it from falling. And his strength had to hold out, the way his father's had, only he would die not in war, but in peace.
As Vlad sped his horse to a gallop, sunlight shining on dark hair, he wondered how many generations before him had sought similar sources of relief. Most of them had turned to war, seeing fighting as the best way to remove all threats, but his father and tutors had shown him a different path where wars were fought with words instead of blades. He had sworn to himself, the day after he had officially taken the throne, that he would only wield his sword once more, to kill his parents' murderers. After their deaths, he would dedicate his entire being to creating a prosperous peace, a peace so powerful, the land itself could feel it. His destiny was not to conquer, his nation, although strong, lacked the military power to command a vast empire. Their troops and treasuries were still recovering from the blow of the last Ottoman War, future generations might someday seek to extend their borders, but their time was not his, he would be dead long before they had that kind of influence.
Vlad hoped that, no matter how much they conquered, some of the land would retain the fierce, wild beauty of the forest his horse stormed into. The floor was still littered with rocks and branches hung loose, threatening to graze his face, but this wilderness was as much a part of his home as his "civilized" court. In a way, that environment was nearly as hostile as this one. The peasants thought being a noble was easy, doing nothing more than sitting on a pretty horse, dressed in fine clothes, impressing everyone who glance his way, not considering the hard work it required to mantain their lands and reputations, which even the slightest stray whisper could soil beyond prepare. But, if he got the chance, Vlad would never tell the small children who peered up at him in awe, the true nature of power. They deserved their dreams and what right did he have to disillusion them? To force new maturity on them and change their views of the world? Someday they would learn some of the truth, from their parents, from relatives, from companions, from lovers, but none of them would ever know all that went on behind the castle walls.
"You know," Vlad sighed as he slowed his horse to a walk, "Sometimes I wonder if we're only fooling ourselves into thinking that power is what we want. I gave up that desire long ago, the day Father died, now all I want is to avenge him and build a nation he would be proud of, but when a see a village lad looking enviously at us, it makes me wonder if maybe their lives are ideal. They have nothing to worry about and they are free to dream as they please, never stopped by the truth. But that's why I'm fighting so hard, so lives like that can continue to exist, lives the Ottomans would destroy, dreams that someday my children may have. I can't let them destroy that. I'd sell my soul if it meant preserving them all, but everything changes, all illusions are eventually broken, all children grow up, all humans die, but I suppose it wouldn't seem nearly as enviable to us if we were all like that."
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