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Little Sisters, Older Brothers

    The Deck of the Saucy Mare
    The main deck of the Saucy Mare is clean and neat, kept that way by the dedicated crew. The twin masts tower overhead; aft is the steersman on the quarterdeck.

Alexandra strides purposefully out of the command crew cabin, almost slamming the door behind her as she calls out, "Natasha? Are you busy, or could we do a practice bout perhaps?"

    An attractive young girl with proud carriage, her joie du vivre is apparent in her usual cheerful enthusiasm. Despite the pretty lace-trimmed silk shirt she's dressed in a decidedly non-feminine style, with snug bottle-green breeches, well-worn black riding boots, and long leather fencing gloves (finely embroidered with the house crest, of course) tucked casually into her leather belt. Most startling of all is the plain and practical military epee at her hip, which has a decidedly well-used look to it. If she's stared at, she tends to get a challenging glint in her large green eyes, and a defiant flick to her luxurious white-tipped, scarlet brush.

Dimitri looks up from the stern gunwales, his ears flat, eyes narrowed. His gaze tracks from the sound of the slamming door, following the loose firebrand across the deck. He grumbles, quiet, slowly turning. "...no. That's not right. Then what else is new this day..." Resting his long blade across his shoulders, Dimitri silently crosses the deck...

Alex patters swiftly across the deck, looking for Natasha... she's in an... odd mood, as attested to by the stiff set of her ears, her clenched fists, and her rather bristled up tail. She pauses, fists on hips, looking around and addressing the closest sailor, "Is Natasha in town or on board, d'you know?"

Alexandra is answered by a low dark growl, a step or so behind her. Dimitri's words are clipped and cool as steel. "Don't be cruel to Natasha too, Alexandra. Take it out on me. It's me you want to hurt."

Alex's ears flatten angrily, and when she turns to face Dimitri her eyes are blazing. She snarls out, "I WASN-" She freezes, still glaring up at Dimitri, then growls just as softly and coldly back at him, "I am NOT going to make this a public spectacle. If you want to discuss this you can just do so in our cabin!" She stands there, staring back almost directly up at him with her ears pinned flat in cold fury, her fists still on her hips and her tail even more bristly now... it's very obvious they're siblings, to the casual observer, by the similarity of their stance and look.

Dimitri looks back, his words a shade quieter, softer. "Look at yourself. You come out, tail bristled like an ornery badger, ears as stiff as a furious mink, fists clenched so hard I bet your small claws are digging holes in your pads. First matter I thought I had taught you. Never practice when you are angry. But you are too smart to forget that... so it means you don't want to practice... but to strike out angry. So don't beat up an innocent bystander. Just clobber me if it will make you feel better."

Alex doesn't move... just glares at Dimitri for a long moment... then snaps quietly back, "I am STILL not going to do this in public, regardless of how much you try to goad me too!" She steps smartly around Dimitri and stalks back to the command crew cabin, fists still clenched and tail switching irritably behind her. She yanks the door open, glares at Dimitri again for a moment... then disappears inside, the door slamming behind her again.

Dimitri quietly shrugs, looking back, his words flatly pragmatic. "Well, you can't swing a sword in the cabin, Alex..." Then, slowly, Dimitri follows Alexandra into the closed cabin.

Alex is waiting in the cabin; ears still pinned, arms folded, and one booted toe tapping impatiently. Once the door's closed behind Dimitri though she almost throws herself at him, grabbing his lapels and shaking them violently (although not with much effect on Dimitri himself) as she yells right in his face, "What do you mean don't be cruel to Natasha too?! Who the hell do you think you ARE, assuming I want to hurt you?! And how DARE you act like you didn't do ANYTHING to hurt me too?!"

The tall fox blinks and just lets his sister assault him, not defending against her onslaught. He lets Alex shake him hard, even against the sound of tearing ruffles. "You're the one who was so concerned about drawing this into public... and then to go after Natasha in your wrath? No. And I didn't believe I was assuming, Alex..." Dimitri looks down, quiet. "It seemed pretty obvious here." He shrugs again, his own ears flat. "And if I hurt you I didn't mean to, Alex. I'd never mean to hurt you."

Alex pauses, panting slightly when Dimitri doesn't react much, and the sound of tearing cloth penetrates her fog of anger... she just stares at him confusedly for a long moment, then sighs deeply and slowly, tiredly shakes her head, "I didn't want to hurt Natasha... I wanted to work off excess energy." Her ears flatten again in irritation as she adds, "What was I supposed to do? Just sit and stew on the gunwales?" She abruptly lets go of his lapels and turns away, wrapping her arms around herself as she adds, "Do you really not care at all that our squabbling in public doesn't just make the family look bad... but is bad for ship morale too?"

Dimitri shakes his head quietly. "Fists, ears and tail... you were angry, Alex... the same look in your eyes when you just want to smash... something. And this time it wasn't a curfew or being told that the far study was just for the men to sit and talk the night away. It was me, your target." He shrugs his head quietly. "And hiding it in a slammed door cabin doesn't start even more rumors? No, that doesn't change a thing. If we didn't squabble we be characters in a fiction, and not furr and fangs. I'm... just more comfortable... standing for who I am and knowing that it's good things... and not so good things. I've never hid either, Alex. Of course I care. I've... I've just..." He lest the words fade away, lost.

Alex sighs and turns to look tiredly at her brother, "You just what." She stands, arms still wrapped around herself, studying him... and then her eyes widen in shock. She pales around her mouth and eyes as she says in slow horror, "What have you done, Dimitri?!" She steps forward swiftly, gently parting and checking his neck ruff, "You're bleeding! There's blood on your shirt!" She blinks a moment later as she sees blood on her small paws too... and says in an odd tone, "It... it's on me too...?"

Dimitri closes his eyes quietly. "I... just... thought you would understand." Slowly opening his eyes again, Dimitri frowns. He tugs out the tails of his white shirt, fine soft silk, and snaring Alex's paws he slowly wraps them in the white cloth. "It's not me, it's you bleeding."

Alex yells in sudden furious fright, "Thought I'd understand you trying to kill yourself?! Are you mad?!" She grabs his shirt again, struggling with tears and terror, "I can't- what?!" She stares down at her paws in bewilderment as he wraps them.

Alex says in a very small voice, "...oh..." A moment later she blinks and murmurs, "I think... I need to... sit down a moment... been a long day..."

Dimitri nods quietly, "Prolly. You should. Here. Sit."

Alex half falls, half sits on the lower bunk, looking a bit dazedly at her small paws, "I wonder how... what happened..."

Dimitri shrugs quietly. "You were holding your rapier. You looked like you wanted to use it on me. You held it tight."

Alex looks up at Dimitri and sighs tiredly... then reaches out and tugs on his sleeve, "Sit...?" Dimitri slowly settles in next to his sister without saying a word. Alex curls up against Dimitri, tucking her head under his chin and her achy paws up against herself. She just sits that way for a long, quiet time... after a while Dimitri can tell by the way she feels against him that she's crying quietly, but she doesn't shift or move away unless he does. Once again, slowly, Dimitri's dark eyes close. And it is not long before his arms wrap around his sister. Strong and warm... and... for her always there. His long nose rests upon her head, still, letting her fit perfectly. "It's... it will work out..." His head dips, slow and soft, muzzle gently stroking until he can kiss a single tear away. "It will. Promise."

Alex takes a long, shaky breath... then wraps her arms tightly around Dimitri, clinging to him as if she's afraid he'll vanish. Her eyes are tightly shut as she presses against him, letting his scent and the feel of him reassure her... her voice is shaky as she whispers, "Don't go, Mitya'schee... don't leave me..."

Dimitri gently draws Alex close, almost slipping her up into his lap, echoing her hug with his own embrace. His own head is buried against her neck and shoulder, his arms wrapped so very tight about her. He takes a breath, slow and deep, and just tightens his hug as if she too were some legendary creature that might vanish upon the morning mists. There's a long moment, counted in heartbeats, before he answers. "For you... I'll always stay." Alex is more than willing to curl up more closely against Dimitri, still clinging tightly... a moment after his quiet comment she sighs, just a soft breathed caress against his fur... but he can feel her body finally relax against him, in slow relief.

Alex is silent for a long while, just holding and being held, drawing comfort from her brother's closeness and scent and feel. Dimitri lets one paw slip up to just slowly stroke the base of a so-soft ear, a gentle and reassuring caress... strange and out of place for a rough and tumble soldier. Her own scent is caught and cherished, confirmation that she is real and that she is still here with him. Dimitri doesn't allow himself to relax too much because he's their anchor this evening. His own breath catches every now and then though, and every now and then he lets his muzzle stroke russet fur.

After a quiet (and far less terror-tense) moment, Alexandra mumbles slowly, "...thought you were leaving..." Her eyes open and she rubs her face with the back of one bandaged paw, then tilts her head back against Dimitri, her muzzle stroking against his fur as she reaches up to curl her small paw around his head and muzzle with the long and trusting familiarity of a child who knows they're perfectly safe. Her voice is a little plaintive, "-why did you leave? I mean... no, not leave exactly... but it was, it was like you left, you know? Why wouldn't you talk to me, tell me I hurt you? Don't you know I don't ever want to hurt you, Mitya? I'd have stopped if I knew...?"

His eyes open for but a moment and Dimitri takes in a short breath. He leans forward so that they rest muzzle to muzzle; close, warm, nothing between him and her. And when his eyes close they glisten just a bit, just the slightest hint. "My fault... I... I... tried to tell you... I... trusted you to listen. But... but... my fault. I just can't say no to you when you ask..."

Alex sighs softly, tilting back to lean against him more, her up-raised fingers closed lightly around one of his ears as if anchoring her to him. She closes her eyes... then murmurs, "I'm so sorry, Mitya... I didn't realize, I... I thought it was like when I wear dresses, you know?" She's silent for a moment, frowning unhappily... then adds half hopefully, half hesitantly, "Tell me how to tell, so it doesn't happen again?" Her final comment is softly breathed, almost inaudible, "...because... I don't want to ask things you don't want... don't want you to leave..."

Dimitri blinks once and then actually mhhhrs as an ear is caught, and he answers with a long and soft stroke of his muzzle along hers. Closer Alex is drawn, into the warm safety of his lap, encompassed strong and warm. "I... I am not sure, Alex. Maybe... maybe I should be more clear and just say I'm serious and that it is important to me..." He nuzzles closer, gently kissing a damp cheek. "It's fine. I don't ever want to lose you either, Alex. Never."

Alex brightens a bit, hopefully, "That'd help, maybe?" She sighs, her eyes drooping relaxedly closed again at the close contact with her brother, feeling that her world is slowly straightening out again -- not topsy turvey and horridly upside down any longer. She's where she belongs, Mitya doesn't want to leave... she squirms around a bit so she can see her brother's face and loops her arms around his neck, then says gravely, "Mitya... what do you want? I need you to tell me, so I know... so I don't ask for stupid things!"

Dimitri starts, quiet, looking back. He lets his own warm arms loop gently about Alex's waist, caught on soft curves. He is quiet... quiet for a long, long while. As he thinks, serious, he rests, only slightly relaxing, nose to nose with Alex. "What do I want? I... well... maybe what I want is to finally be accepted as just me? It's not that I am ashamed or anything... it's like... Alex, I am proud of who I am, not just of being a St. Genevieve, but that everything I am or have gained I did on my own; hard work, no gifts, no charity. These soldier's clothes I wear, I earned them, and because of that they are a part of me and mean just as much to me as your fine court garb of this morning means to you... does that make any sense?"

Alex grins a small, mischievous grin, and her tongue flicks out once to tickle Dimitri's nose -- flick! -- and then gone! She smiles, then thinks a bit about Dimitri's words... then finally nods slowly, although her eyes are still a bit puzzled, "I... think so... but Mitya... if that's so, why do you tell me to wear clothes that aren't me sometimes, for the good of the family? and how'm I supposed to tell when it's serious bad for you?"

Dimitri smiles quietly, his eyes opening wide for an instant as Alex tongue-teases. In return he smiles, and answers with a resounding Dimitri-sized tongue-lap of his own. But then he gently rests his nose upon hers again. "Actually, Alex... after having had the cloak thrown over my own shoulders... I was wrong about the dresses. You do look beautiful in them, fairer than a dream. But if they aren't you... I was wrong to ask. And as I said, next time I'll be clearer and I'll say plainly that it is a serious matter."

Alex giggles softly, wrinkling up her nose and rubbing it with the back of one bandaged paw after she's been slurped! then blinks, tilting her head to study Dimitri half hopefully, half puzzledly, "Really? I don't just look funny and walk like a boy caught in a dress, like Nanna used to chide me with?"

Dimitri smiles quietly, "No, Alex. You have grace and poise. It shows in your fighting too, and it's why you move so well in combat or in my arms when we dance. And yes, lovely. And believe me, a Marine knows. You... you..." Dimitri smiles, "You remind me of Mother when I see you all dressed up."

Alex brightens, albeit a little self-consciously, "Really? You really think so? That painting of mother in the hallway is so gorgeous; I never thought I could be as beautiful as her... and daddy always said the painting didn't do her justice, remember?" She sighs, "I... wish I remembered her better..." She's silent for a moment, just thinking and curled up against Dimitri again... then sighs softly, although this time it's not a tired or unhappy sound, "Okay then... I guess... I guess if it's really important I could try to be like mother, without complaining..." She smiles quietly against Dimitri's fur, "Promise you'll be real clear, Mitya, yes? Really really 'til I get it, okay?" A moment later Alex's voice trails up from under his chin, curious, "How do marines know?"

Dimitri nods quietly, wrapping his arms once again about Alex, tucking her beneath his chin. "I do think so, Alex. And I know. That's why Father sheltered you so much, you know. Because he saw Mother each time he looked into your eyes. Me. I just... well..." He blinks and swallows. "And yes, I promise. I will be extra careful." But then Dimitri chuckles, "Marines live on the very edge, bratling. We g to work and if we fail, we die. Which means some of them enjoy their lives to the fullest and become accustomed to seeking out the prettiest ladies in each port between here and the continent.

Alex giggles softly and mischievously into Dimitri's fur, "So marines have spouses in every port too, is that it? What busy furrs they must be... so... when do I get introduced to yours, mm?"

Dimitri closes his eyes and lets out a long, soft sigh. "You don't. I don't have anyone, Alex."

There's an exasperated snort from under Dimitri's chin... a moment later Alex sits up, her fur still in disarray from crying but with the long-suffering look of the little sister on her face, "Bright Lady, Dimitri, will you give over about that?!" She tugs on one of his ears to emphasize her indignant words (although much more gently now than she knew to do as a small cub), "You do so have someone -- unless you're telling me I'm nobody!" She hmfs, "'Sides, there aren't any other marines tromping a path to our gangplank, I notice!" She folds her arms with the 'so THERE!' look she gets when she's quite sure of her own rightness!

Dimitri laughs and looks down, eyes bright, shrugging his shoulders. "Aye, that's true. And maybe... maybe that's why. But then I'm not sure it'd be proper to kiss one own's sis..." he stops then and chokes a bit, his ears turning a bit warm beneath her tug. He does reach out to brush muzzles once again. "And any marine who made an unwarranted pass at you... well... blood is so hard to get out of silk anyways..."

Alex blinks a little startledly at Dimitri... then grins cheerfully, pleased that he's happy again, "Nanna always said to use cold water, remember? and I can take care of myself -- you taught me that!" She looks a bit proud for a moment, her left ear flicking unconsciously... then sighs happily and wraps her arms around his neck again, leaning relaxedly against him and murmuring, "So... you just what when you looked at me?"

Dimitri just wraps Alex back up, holding her warm and close. His eyes are closed, and he rests his head against hers. His words are quiet and simple. "I do think you are beautiful, bratling."

Alex beams quietly, hugging tightly and close, and nuzzles up against his warm black fur, "Thank you, Mitya... it's funny, I believe you when you say it... and you are handsome, you know, even if you never believe me..." She grins, then sighs contentedly and closes her eyes again... things are right again, and her world makes sense again, even though there have been some changes -- hopefully for the better, she thinks... and she can relax now.


    The Captain's Cabin on the Saucy Mare
    The cabin is a marvel of clever usage of too little space. The comfortable bunk is set into the wall, with a sea chest beneath, while the small, enclosed lamp swings slowly overhead with the sway of the ship. A small rolltop desk/table faces into the room, and there's the added luxury of a fairly large porthole.

It is early afternoon, and Carroll is sitting at the small desk in his cabin, writing something down on the piece of slate he uses for a scratch pad. He is working intently on whatever it is, not at the least keeping himself from thinking of something else.

The rap comes sharply upon the door of the Captain's cabin, three perfect and disciplined knock knock knocks. Carroll looks up from what he's doing and calls at the door, "Come in."

The door opens and, ducking his head, the tall, dark St. Genevieve brother enters Carroll's cabin. He stands quiet for a long moment. One heartbeat, then two. He stands still and balanced, his stance anchored, his eyes slightly narrowed... "Captain... Carroll?"

Carroll carefully sets aside the piece of slate he's writing upon and puts the piece of chalk in its little box. He looks up and murrs quietly and levelly, soft but not angry, "Yes, Dimitri?"

"This morning..." Dimitri takes a second breath. "This morning I was out of my element and not balanced at all..." He words are even, quiet, and mayhaps a bit formal, definitely beyond where this brother is comfortable. "And I know matters did not go the way they should have... and that... that I do regret, Carroll. And now I find myself in a very strange place..." Carroll nods wordlessly, his expression revealing little. Dimitri softly growls, "I need to talk to the Queen, I need to apologize to her for accepting an honor falsely and all the repercussions from that... but... Carroll... how do I do this? What words should I use... and how should I approach this problem?"

Carroll cocks his head and murrs, "Sit down, Dimitri." He gestures towards a chair and then murrs, "So you want to apologize to the Queen?" The question isn't abrasive, more soft and quiet, clarifying.

Dimitri looks about, quiet, for a place to sit. He chooses a chair in the corner, slowly settling in. "Aye... I want to and need to, for me at least. Probably need to for other reasons, not being as familiar with these things..." He swallows once, "...as you."

Carroll's expression finally shows something like what he's thinking, his ears flicking around to be alert, while his face betrays a little surprise. He asks, "And... you want my help?"

Dimitri looks around and quietly shrugs. "No other fox in this room, Carroll."

Smiling a small, almost shy smile, Carroll murrs, "I... let's see what we can do." He shakes his head a little and then murrs, "Yes." Looking more intently at his brother again, he asks, "What are you apologizing for?"

Dimitri softly growls, "I accepted an honor, an extreme honor, from the queen under false circumstances. That is at least an insult..."

Carroll hmms and asks, "From the Queen's perspective what would the false circumstances be?"

Dimitri narrows his eyes, quiet. "I... I... am not sure. She wanted to honor me, the furr that saved her at the ball. But that wasn't the furr who stood before her this morning. I don't who that was."

Carroll murrs, "The Queen honored the same brave dark fox who stepped selflessly in front of a poisoned dart this morning. She saw only the handsome tod whom she expected, as did every other person at the levee." He leans back in his chair and folds his paws in his lap, continuing, "The only person in the room who was uncomfortable with who you were was you, Dimitri."

Dimitri shakes his head quietly, "But I truly feel like I dishonored her, Carroll, because of that. Apologizing for that is something I need to do, but I don't... don't know how."

Carroll asks, "Do you trust my judgement regarding the politics and people in court?"

Dimitri is quiet for a long handful of heartbeats. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I'm... I'm... asking you, Carroll."

Carroll nods and murrs, "Good. Then think about how the Queen or anyone else but you might have felt dishonored by your going to the levee and accepting the knighthood?" After a moment he continues patiently, "Can you tell me how they would have been upset or insulted by your doing exactly what they wanted and expected?"

Dimitri softly growls, "But it would have been a stage setting, Carroll. It would have been... dishonest. A thief is still a thief even if no one catches him."

Carroll repeats, "How could they have been upset?" After a quiet moment he adds, "Don't think about how you feel or how they would feel if they knew. Think about what they do know and what they did see. How could they have been insulted?"

Dimitri looks down, quiet. "I don't know the answer to that, Carroll. If I did I probably wouldn't need to be here."

Carroll nods and murrs, "All right. The Queen saw someone who had acted in her best interest step up and receive the honor they were due. Very simple. There is nothing there to apologize for."

Dimitri softly growls, "Then why do I feel the need to apologize? Why is this then a problem?"

Carroll tries to explain, "Accepting the honor is not the issue. Rudeness to the crown while doing so and after, is all an apology you do need cover." His tail flicks once behind him, almost instinctively, and he adds, "Why you were that way in court is not the issue; merely that you were."

Dimitri looks back, quiet. "I might not have been as pleasurable as I could have been, Carroll. But I was not rude... it was different. And while I regret the image my condition caused I don't want to end up speaking words I don't believe in? Can you understand? I think I see where you stand. But it's all like a cloth over truth, and that disturbs me. Is that the way it has to be?"

Carroll murrs, "In my professional opinion, Dimitri, you were rude to the Queen and bordering on rude to the rest of Court." He adds more gently, "I do not want you to say words you are not comfortable with either, for that would be worse than nothing. So would apologizing for something no one else could see or understand though, and that seems to be what you want to do."

Dimitri frowns quietly... "But I wasn't trying to be..." he then shrugs again. "Carroll. If I accept what you say and say what you feel needs to be said for the Queen's sake... is it possible to also include what needs to be said for my sake? So that it can be a full and honest statement?'

Carroll hmms and runs one hand back and forth across his muzzle for a moment, pondering. He finally murrs, "I think the closest you could get and to actually improve anything would be to apologize for rudeness and explain that your brother had done something which had upset you before the Levee, and that you were sorry you had let that upset spill into the public." He looks at Dimitri and asks, "That is a true statement, yes?"

Dimitri stops. Once. He just gives Carroll a long, long look. "That... that is a true statement, yes."

Carroll asks, "And that is, in effect, why you were upset, is it not?"

Dimitri is very quiet. "Yes, it is."

Carroll looks at his brother and then murrs, "You don't sound pleased with that solution. What is bothering you?"

Dimitri looks back, his head tilting. "No. It's not that at all, Carroll. It's... it's that..." Carroll waits expectantly, quiet. Dimitri shakes his head, and then shrugs. "Those words mean that you are taking... no... sharing a part of the responsibility for what happened at the levee. I did not..." He pauses, then adds quietly, "Thank you."

Carroll smiles at his brother, rather quiet for several long moments. Eventually he says lamely, "I try to take responsibility for what I do." He looks away, and back, and tries to explain, "If the Queen needs a reason this is one that is understandable and easily so. It may not be the most detailed answer but it is both true and understandable." Carroll adds quietly, "Often court involves finding the right piece of the truth to share."

Dimitri nods quietly. "So how do I say this?"

Carroll hmms and murrs, "Why don't you start, Dimitri, and I'll make suggestions? Otherwise you'll wind up sounding like me."

Dimitri thinks quietly, his brow furrowing. "How do I start?"

Carroll hmms and murrs, "Be simple and direct, 'Your Majesty, I want to apologize for my rudeness at the levee.'" After a moment he murrs, "Shall I go on?"

Dimitri shakes his head, quiet. "Simple and direct?" He considers, quiet... "Maybe this then..." Carroll nods and listens. Dimitri swallows. "Your majesty... this morning before the levee my brother had done something to upset me, and I allowed it to darkly shadow my presence at court. It did not reflect well on me, but worse, it was inappropriate and poor to you, and that I regret and for that I apologize."

Carroll nods, listening. He murrs, "You can say 'my brother Carroll' to make sure she doesn't wonder if poor Horatio managed to upset you, or just 'Carroll,' and I expect she'll know which one you mean." He nods and thinks about it for a moment or two more, and then asks, "Does that apology make you feel better about what happened?"

Dimitri looks back, quiet. "No. It doesn't make me feel better about what happened, if you can understand. It shouldn't have happened, and that it did, no matter how much I regret it or what anyone says, it can't be changed. But this... this is needed... to move forward again."

Carroll asks, "Does it make you feel better about having accepted the honor from the Queen or about what happened at the Levee?"

Dimitri looks back, quiet. "I feel a little better about accepting the knighthood, after I speak to her... but I don't feel at all well, Carroll. It's like I walked out having stolen the silverware, and being told it's okay because no one realizes it's missing."

Carroll hmms and rubs his muzzle again, thinking. He murrs, "I don't know that I understand what's bothering you, Dimitri."

Dimitri softly growls, "I wasn't honest with her, Carroll. It doesn't matter that she doesn't know. I know."

Carroll ahs and murrs, "I disagree, Dimitri, that it doesn't matter that she doesn't know. It is important that she not be offended by what you actually said and did." He pauses and continues slowly, trying to make certain he's clear, "It does matter that you know and that we know, and it is important. It is not important, though, to the Queen." Carroll continues, "The Queen didn't honor your uniform, Dimitri, she honored you. Her entire life is separated into different roles which she changes easily depending on context and need. How she feels about things personally often cannot interfere with how she behaves in court. Please, don't ask her of all people to understand the personal reasons behind this." He pauses and adds, "I barely can. I don't know if she will at all." He finishes, "How you feel about this is important, Dimitri, and needs to be understood, both by Alex and Horatio and I, and perhaps most importantly by you. You are not your uniform. You are Lord Major Dimitri St. Genevieve, a stalwart, brave, and handsome fox, regardless of whether you're wearing the shoes of a nobleman or of a soldier. You have many things to be greatly respected, and have and will be many things in your life."

Dimitri nods quietly. "Then the uniform shouldn't matter, Carroll. I am... I am very proud of being what I call just a soldier. It's not an idle thing. It's what defines me. I am where I am because I worked to get there, and there's no false front, nothing given that wasn't earned... and when you look at me you should see who I am. Anything else is dishonest."

Carroll considers and then nods. He murrs, "I felt the uniform we offered you was also something you had earned, and that it was a visible honor, a statement to all, that we wanted and claimed you as one of our own." He looks back at his brother, eye to eye, and murrs, "I'm sorry that it hurt, Dimitri, and never would have asked it if I had understood."

Dimitri shrugs his shoulders, quiet. "I am your brother, Carroll. I don't have to be claimed." He manages a small smile, "And it's fine, Carroll. I am sure it won't happen again. By either of us."

Carroll nods. He murrs rather quietly, "The message of solidarity of the family is interesting to send to others at Court, but not nearly important enough to be worth hurting you."

Dimitri nods quietly, "Thank you... Carroll..."

Carroll nods, murring softly, "You're welcome, brother."

Dimitri looks back, quiet, taking a chance. "I will say to the queen what we discussed. I can do that... it will mean more to me... and probably to her, I would hazard, if I did so on my own. Is that possible?"

Carroll frowns and looks hard at Dimitri. He rubs his muzzle again, thinking. He looks like he's going to say something, and then stops. He thinks some more. He opens his mouth and inhales, and then stops. He finally murrs, quietly, "You're asking a lot," but doesn't disapprove or approve, still thinking.

Dimitri nods quietly. "I know."

Carroll drums his fingers on the desk for a moment, and murrs, "You do know what you're going to say..." He looks at Dimitri and murrs, "I don't know if we can arrange a truly private audience. We might not be able to see her at all until the next levee." He looks down at the desk, thinking, weighing things in his mind, playing out politics.

Dimitri closes his eyes, his words almost a whisper. "It would mean a lot to me, Carroll. Serious."

Carroll looks back up at Dimitri, and murrs quietly, "If I can't arrange a private meeting you can go through the presentation line somewhat before us at the next levee. That may be all I can do."

Dimitri nods quietly. "Thank you Carroll... that I understand." He slowly stands, brushing out his cloak, listening to it rustle. He takes a step towards the door.

Carroll nods, quiet for a long time, finally replying, "I'll do what I can." He adds, "Dimitri?" and stands himself.

Dimitri nods, just as slowly opening the door. He pauses however, halfway through the opening. One still heartbeat he hesitates, his muzzle opening as if to speak. But then he is caught and ducks his muzzle. "Yes, Carroll?"

Carroll takes the three steps over to the door and closes it softly in front of Dimitri and then looks at him somewhat uncertainly. After only a moment's pause he steps close to his taller, stronger brother and hugs him, murring, "It's good to have you back."

Dimitri blinks, a bit stiff and definitely shocked and out of place. Then he lets one arm wrap around Carroll to give him a hard rap upon his shoulder twice. He then steps back and shrugs, the movement causing his cloak to rustle. "It's... aye, it's good to be back, Carroll. Truth."

Carroll steps back and nods, now apparently somewhat at a loss for words. He murrs, "I'll let you know if you can see the Queen," and steps back towards his desk.

Dimitri opens the door and takes his step outside. As he does he does spare a last look over his shoulder, looking back to his brother for a long, long heartbeat. "I apologize for all the trouble I've caused you..." The door closes.

Carroll sits back down and stares at the door... and finally says to no one, "Well... that could have been worse."




Last modified: 2000-Apr-27 12:12:08

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