Pleasantly Alone

[Sebastian Arcturis]

[About four years ago]

The warden was returning from another mission outside the city. This tine he was on a country side patrol with a few other guards as cover. It was always nice to get out of the castle. And it was a good way to tour the lands and secure the roads and even pick up new recruits. They didn't have any of those on this patrol as they returned, but Sebastian cut an intimidating figure which was both helpful and unhelpful.

The captain put them up at the inn in Ethlund. It wasn't far from Ethion, but it was late enough and they were ahead of schedule. Bastian had finished his business early. Almost too efficiently, according to the other two with him.

They had started the evening in the tavern together but the other two wardens found quick excuses not to hang out with the man. He was to be the new Inquisitor soon. Likely once they returned from this mission. It made their relationship awkward. Of course...he would still be a royal guard captain so outwardly nothing would change. But Bastian was hardly decent company. He didn't begrudge them the evening out and away from him.

So the guard captain found himself pleasantly alone at the far end of the bar, leaning against the wall and people watching. He'd gone through a couple drinks already and was more or less looking through most of the regulars. He had a lot on his mind of late, ever since he recovered from his time in the western mountains. Too much on his mind for his own liking.

Zander Brogthamon

[Zander Brogthamon]

Zander was bruised and tired. It was late but his father had a particularly bad day and had decided to take it out on his son. Though he hated leaving home when Jaskier was like this he couldn't stay there. There was the idea that his father might spend his time out of the house looking for his runaway instead of taking the anger out on his mother.

The boy made his way into one of the local taverns hoping to hide in a dark corner somewhere away from everyone else. The tavern was the usual spot he ran to when it was late meaning none of the usuals or the bartender batted an eye when they saw him scramble in. With deep yellow and purple bruises forming around his thin arms in the form of fingers with a larger one under his right eye. His bottom lip was puffy with splotches of dried blood around his mouth and scrapes on the palms of his hands and on his knees.

Zander rushed to a table in the back corner and curled his body into one of the chairs. At least he could catch his breath and get something to drink before going home. Hopefully his father would be asleep by the time he got back.

[Sebastian Arcturis]

Sebastian didn't look like a royal guard. Not at the moment. He was wearing quite a bit of gear so he was clearly well to do, but it was worn and weathered leathers and scrapped armor and boots covered in mud from travel. He carried two blades with him at the moment and hadn't shaved in a few days with all the travel.

With the other two around "Royal Guard" was more obvious. They had the faces and mpre importantly the mood for it. Bastian was grumpy and while alone, "bountyhunter" was a more fitting word. Maybe "adventurer" if people were feeling optimistic. And "down on his luck soldier" if they were pessimistic.

The scrappy redhead was stared through like the others in the tavern.

But that wasn't to say Bastian didn't pay attention. He was a more than observant fellow. After only an hour in the bar he knew which patrons were favorites of the tavern wenches, that the blonde one had a secret thing with the very married bartender, that the red head in the opposite back corner had an abusive family life, and that the group next to the door were cagey and running from something(they kept staring at Bastian).

He kept staring back. Because four on one would be interedting. And because he had zero interest in whatever their problem was with him.

[Zander Brogthamon]

The only person who paid any attention to Zander was a barmaid that made her way over to his table with a gentle smile. The boy jumped when she spoke but relaxed when he seemed to recognize the woman. She asked what he wanted before placing one of her hands on his shoulder and walking back to the bar. His eyes wandered to a man he hadn't noticed a moment ago. The man looked like one of the soldiers he'd see coming through the village on occasion that would stop in at one of the inns for a rest.

Nothing interesting enough to truly catch his attention. Though he did notice some men that were known to cause trouble sitting by the door. Looking as if they were ready to either start a fight or run out of the building with their tails between their legs. Zander really hoped it would be the latter. The last thing he needed at the moment were more angry men screaming and being violent. He eyed the men with a huff as he began scratching at his wrist. The barmaid returned with some water and a plate of bread that she set in front of him and attempted to brush his hand away from his wrist.

As the woman walked away a large man with fire red hair and dark brown eyes stormed into the tavern. Jaskier Brogthamon was known to be large and intimidating. As his eyes scanned the building Zanders heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. The tavern was his safe place. His father didn't drink, didn't like alcohol. This was the one place he could turn to that he thought his father would never look. "Jaskier! I never thought I'd see you here, handsome." The barmaid that'd just been talking with Zander stood between the tower of a man and the area his son was. Trying hard to distract him as Zander slid under his table. "Cut the shit. Where's my son?" Jaskier snarled as Zander crawled across the floor under the tables. Until he reached the table of the stranger he'd noticed.

The boy whimpered softly as he looked up at the man and chewed on his bottom lip. "Zander? Why do you think he'd be here?" Jaskier grabbed the womans wrist hard but she bit back a yelp as she tried to hold her ground against him. "I won't ask again. Where is my son?" Seeing the way he was treating her made the boy want to throw up. He couldn't stand someone getting hurt because of him. With another soft whimper he swallowed a hard lump of emotion in his throat and started to crawl out from under the table.

[Sebastian Arcturis]

Sebastian didn't spare the angry red head a second look. Not that there wasn't a lot to notice about the man, quite the opposite. No, Sebastian didn't look at him again because his type was very apparent on a first read. Not to mention very few people in the immediate area had red hair and he had thought the boy looked squirrely. Now he knew why.

Even without looking, the warden was very aware that his table was now empty. And also very aware of the feeling that someone was nearby. Under the table maybe, considering he hadn't seen the boy leave. Sebastian didn't move and took another drink. Petty local arguments and family drama were not his problem.

Whatever the barmaid said to the man, it got even more of a rise out of him. Local assault and abuse, however...that wasn't quite so petty. Sure, he was more 'royal' guard than anything, but he was still a guard. Sebastian sighed, drained his drink and set it back down on the table. He pushed himself up slowly and carefully slid out of the booth so as to not bump into his company that was shifting around. He shifted a hand behind his back for a moment and tossed the boy a "wait there" signal as he walked up to the man who had a hand on the the barmaid. His position with all his gear and cake also blocked the boy from view, provided he didn't stand up.

The guard captain folded his arms. "Sir. I will ask once, nicely. Let the woman go and take your business elsewhere."

[Zander Brogthamon]

When the man moved Zander paused for a moment before moving further back under the table. Jaskier narrowed his eyes at the stranger that approached. The small diversion gave the barmaid just enough time to pull her arm from his steel grip. Soft purple markings were already beginning to form where he'd been grabbing her. Jaskier turned his attention fully to the guard and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I don't need to take my business anywhere else but here." He growled. Zander fidgeted uncomfortably unable to see his father past the man in front of him. He didn't want there to be any trouble caused because of him. The boy wanted to dash out from under the table. Just go home with his father and face the music. Anything so that others didn't have to take whatever anger his father had. "I'm lookin' for my boy. So either you can tell me where he is or get the hell out of my way."

[Sebastian Arcturis]

He glanced at the barmaid, a look that at once noted the bruises on her arm and suggested none too kindly that she remove herself from the encounter before things got further out of hand. Sebastian wasn't sure where his fellow wardens were, but he wasn't too concerned. He could always whistle if he needed the back up.

So much for asking nicely. This was why he didn't do normal peace patrols. If authority simply showing up and asking didn't work, he wasn't so interested in a placating stand off. But...Sebastian also understood he couldn't simply punch the guy in the stomach for interrupting his drink.

"I do not know where he is. But he is not here. Surely a man as astute as yourself would have already noticed him." It was...a round about way of calling the man an idiot. And while he would have preferred to hit him, the insult wasn't nice. "I will gladly help you look for him," he said, gesturing back toward the door. His tone was calm and rather...removed the entire time he spoke.

[Zander Brogthamon]

Jaskier gave the man a smile that was more of a snarl than anything else. "Look, you're obviously not from around here." Venom dropped from his words though his tone was even low. He eyed the man up and down as the barmaid stepped away from the two of them. the last thing she needed was to get caught up in another bar fight.

"So why don't you go back to your drink and you won't have to be carried home." Jaskier didn't like having his authority questioned. By anyone. Given that most people in their village knew not to challenge him he was used to things going his way.

Zander sat under the table confused and terrified as he watched the man. This was some kind of soldier obviously. He'd seen him come into town with a few others earlier. Why was this man so concerned about keeping his father away from him. How many times had wardens immediately brought him back to his parents?

[Sebastian Arcturis]

Sebastian sighed audibly, arms still folded, as the man stated the obvious. He got that a lot in his travels. No shit he wasn't from around here. He had finished his drink actually and if he was more interested in talking, he would quipped back as much. But he wasn't in the mood. Of course, he was almost never in the mood so it hardly mattered.

The threat he might be carried home earned a smirk. He'd done that, been carried home. Well, not home, but up a mountain. Seemed close enough. And that time he hadn't got a warning.

At the threat, he didn't hesitate to close the rest of the distant between them and put himself inches from the other man, his full height and weight and armor and weapons and how he carried himself intimidating on top of the words he rumbled out. "You are obviously not used to threatening a royal guard. You want to say that to me outside?" Maybe he wanted a fight.

[Zander Brogthamon]

Jaskier was practically becoming a cornered animal. All but bearing his teeth at the man as he closed the gap between them. If he was at all intimidated by the man he didn't show it, he simply smiled at the suggestion to take their talk outside. "I don't give a damn who you are. I don't see why we can't finish our chat here."

Sensing the possible property damage that could come to his business the owner of the tavern finally spoke up behind the bar. "Hey! If you two are gonna kill each other do it outside!" Jaskier simply let out a low laugh before he quickly shoved Sebastian into someone behind him. Like a domino effect the person ran into someone else by mistake and before they could get out so much as a breath the drunk they ran into shoved them back hard.

It seemed that it didn't take much for a full brawl to break out between most of the taverns patrons while others quickly fled out. Whether to get away from the fight or their tab. Zander froze out of fear at all the commotion as he tried to look for a way out. Every time he'd attempt to move away from his hiding spot someone would stumble past him, often nearly crushing his fingers in the process.

[Sebastian Arcturis]

He didn't smile when the owner repeated his suggestion. Mostly because it was extra stress he knew the other man wouldn't be able to handle and it messed with his controlled environment. Well, so much for that.

Sebastian was more than ready for Jaskier to start a fight and had been since stepping out form his table. Suffice to say he wouldn't be able to put him off balance or take him by surprise to shove him. He sidestepped the lunge with a fluid movement, nothing flashy, just a step and a turn. Whether Jaskier fell into someone else or someone else panicked and back into another customer and started the fight, Sebastian didn't care. He looped and arm around the angry redhead's throat (or would attempt to and he wasn't going to be nice about it) and would drag the man kicking and screaming out of the tavern. Sebastian was a born and bred soldier who had grown up fighting for his life and still had to earn the right to breath every day. He wasn't a push over like this farmer seemed to think.

His initial intent had just been as a distraction...now...well, Jaskier had given him an excuse to beat the shit out of him. So he would. In the tavern. Outside the tavern...it didn't matter.

[Zander Brogthamon]

As she watched Jaskier and the soldier go outside the barmaid pushed her way through the little crowd to the table Zander was hiding under. "Come on, sugar it's not safe for you here right now." Zander took her offered hand as she led him out a side door near the back. Though he wanted to run the boy paused when he saw the stranger and his father outside.

Jaskier had been a soldier before, though he'd never been good with handling authority. After years of service and misconduct he'd been given the boot. It was why he pushed Zander so hard, he'd wanted his son to do what he'd failed to. At least that was the excuse he gave himself. Once they were outside Jaskier kicked hard at the mans stomach before taking a quick left swing for his jaw.

It had been some time since Jaskier had fought someone who wasn't an inexperienced farmer or sickly teenage boy. While he might have been a bit rusty he wasn't backing down. Zander chewed on his bottom lip with a whine before he finally decided to scale one the shops and sit on the roof. He wanted to run but there was also a small, sadistic, part of him that wanted to see if this man could really hurt his father.

[Sebastian Arcturis]

It wasn't exactly easy to drag a man who had fifty pounds on him by the neck, especially considering Jaskier was not coming quietly, but taller or not, a choke hold was a choke hold and it seemed the farmer wasn't prepared for someone so willing to not only fight back, but to take the fight to him. It wore off as they backed out the front door. Instead of trying to pull Bastian's hands from around his throat, the guy seemed to recall something and made himself more dead weight before slamming an elbow into Bastian's chest. It was enough to stagger him and the larger man wrested himself from Bastian’s grip, gasping and wheezing.

Bastian slipped on the top of the steps and fell the three up to the door, landing hard on his back. Before he could pick himself up, Jaskier slammed a boot into his stomach.

A year ago, he’d been left in the aftermath of a fight barely breathing, a hole through his chest and his left lung. He was more than recovered from that fight. But similar to concussions, punctured lungs were only more common after the first time. The warden favored his left side, to say the least, and while he wheezed in a solid breath, Jaskier hauled him up by the collar.

“This the sort of chat you were looking for, dog?” the man spat in his face.

Bastian pulled in a full breath and sighed. Which Jaskier took to mean he wasn’t taking him seriously so he clocked him in the face and sent him staggering. The warden managed to keep his footing this time, and when he looked back up he spat blood on the street and grinned. “That’s better,” he said. “You used to be a soldier.” The man could feel it in the way Jaskier carried himself now, as if the fight lasting more than five seconds had woken something up. “Had a problem with authority. Washed up. Probably beat the shit out of that wench just to feel like a man.”

So maybe he wasn’t entirely terrible at reading people, just terrible at reading emotions. Bastian made a ‘come on then,’ gesture, inviting the ex-soldier to rush him.