#kaitan trevelyan

[pulse-oflife]

Prompt #6 // Halcyon

The sound of cicadas were truly one of the signs they were deep in summer. Keryn could hear them best at night, when everyone was stopped and getting ready for the night, though if you listened closely during the day, they were just as loud. Currently, the caravan was stopped due to one of the other wagons having thrown a wheel. The adults were all dealing with it, leaving the children mostly unattended.

Ostensibly, she was under the wagon to make sure that the wheels were in good shape, as she was still small enough to fit easily under there. In reality, it was mostly to keep her out of trouble and also out of the punishing sunlight. She wasn't thrilled about being in the dirt, since the dry summer meant washing off happened less frequently. Especially since they were headed into Thanalan where flowing water was sparse, and water to be spared for washing even sparser. Oh well. The dirt was dry and easily brushed off, so she wouldn't be too dirty. Kaitan would still make fun of her. Probably. Older brothers were sometimes nice and sometimes mean. Her dad had mentioned something about teenagers the last time she'd complained about something he'd said to her.

"Hey!" Speaking of older brothers... "Are you done playing in the dirt yet? We're about to head off and I don't want you to get run over." He paused and she could see the cheeky grin he was making. "It might damage the wagon." She rolled her eyes and started to roll out from underneath the wagon and the shade, taking his offered hand to help her stand.

She dusted herself off with some firm pats to her clothes, though the hair was probably a lost cause at the moment. "Everything looked good, I think we'll be fine." Kaitan shrugged in response; they'd just had the axle replaced last winter. But it never hurt to check things over. "I'll ride up front with Papa til we stop for the night and I can change clothes." No need to track extra mess into the wagon since she'd have to clean it up anyway.

Kaitan clapped her on the shoulder, sending up another cloud of dust. "Good call."

[pulse-oflife]

Prompt #5 // Stamp

Kaitan stared at the pile of letters on the table, unsure at first of what exactly he was looking at. The Lalafell on the other side of the table - Tataru? - had dumped them all there after he had mentioned his sister's name. These were all letters he'd sent - letters he'd addressed to wherever the Scions of the Seventh Dawn had been located, hoping that the mail service would know where to deliver them. He'd never gotten a response, but he'd kept writing in hopes that the Trevelyan he'd heard about really was his presumed deceased sister. Apparently they had made it safely to their destination, but not to the recipient.

"I'm sorry," he said, spending a moment to collect his scattered thoughts, "Why do you have these?"

Tataru unfolded her arms and leaned forward. "The Antecedent and I weren't sure that you were who you said you were." He could see that some of the letters had been opened, presumably to check the contents. "According to all of the information anyone could find, she was the only surviving member of the family." Kaitan flinched a bit at hearing that, hearing that confirmation that his parents and younger siblings had in fact not made it through the Calamity. "You were reported as missing, presumed dead, from the Twin Adders. We had no reason to doubt the report, so when your letters started arriving..." At least she had the grace to look somewhat ashamed. "We decided to hold them and investigate further."

"That can't have taken very long." He gestured towards the pile. "And yet this looks like none of my letters made it to her." Tataru leaned back with a sigh and explained the business in Ul'dah that had driven the Scions to exile and Ishgard. He'd heard some rumors of the sort, but the Gridanian rumor mill hadn't seemed to place much stock in the whole affair. He hadn't either, but reality remained stranger and more awful than anything the bards could dream up. He listened to her story of their time in Ishgard and beyond, though she didn't have as much personal detail to share once his sister had left the city. And of course, once the Scions' name had been cleared, a pile of undelivered letters was the last thing on anyone's mind. Understandable. It stung, but he could understand the logic. "So. What now?"

"She's due back in Ishgard any moment now for a meeting with the Lord Commander," Tataru replied with a small shrug. "His office isn't that far away from here." She smiled at him and made a shooing motion with her hand. "I promise she'll get all the letters!"

Kaitan barely heard the last statement as he bolted out of the small room he'd been staying in, then up the stairs, nearly bowling over an armored Au Ra man who yelled curses after him. It didn't matter - he was going to see his sister.

[pulse-oflife]

Prompt #14 // Telling

Kaitan had once again chosen the same bar for a fifth night in a row. He wasn't particularly interested in drinking these days, but the gossip here seemed to be of higher truthfulness than the other ones he'd visited. At least in some regards; he was fairly certain that any rumors about Raubahn were inaccurate at best and outright falsehoods at worst. Regardless, he was at the bar and nursing the same pint of ale he'd ordered when he first arrived. The barkeep hadn't said anything about the habit so far, which was another minor blessing. Usually they'd get touchy about how little he was spending over the course of the night but so far there had been no comment.

That was about to change, however, as the night wore on and most of the patrons had left. "So, what's your story? You've been in here every night for the past week, drinking the same glass of ale, and listening to every word of conversation you can." The barkeep sounded friendly, but there was an edge to the questioning statements that Kaitan could understand. This was, after all, a really out of the way bar and the less savory patrons certainly appreciated it. And they would not appreciate a snitch or someone working as an informant. Information gathering was all well and good - this was Ul'dah, after all - but the barkeep wanted to ensure that his purpose was not going to be disruptive to his clientele.

Kaitan opened his mouth but only to knock back the rest of his drink. "Nothing much to tell. I was recovering from an illness for a few years and want to know what all I've missed." Close to the truth, but not the truth. He'd been seriously injured and left for dead at the Battle of Carteneau, recovered by an Ul'dahn chirurgeon, and had spent the past five years recovering as best he could physically and mentally. "Or at least to try." Closer to the truth, but not the whole of it. Kaitan was hoping to find information on his family, especially his sister Keryn. He'd heard the name Trevelyan bandied about in relation to current affairs and needed to know if she was any relation. The barkeep looked sympathetic and gave a nod, approval enough for his continued presence on nights to come.

[pulse-oflife]

Prompt #19 // Taken

There were rather more people in the Forgotten Knight on this night than there had been for the past week or so that Kaitan had been staying there. It was slightly overwhelming but he chose not to retreat to his room, as he was supposed to be meeting someone. Someone who said they had information about his sister. So he stayed, and drank from the same mug of mostly adequate ale, lingering at the bar when able. He moved away as needed - people ordering drinks, people chatting up the barkeep - but inevitably he would return to his lonely position at the far end. He'd been rebuffing people all night, telling them that he was fine where he was, that he was waiting for someone, that the spot next to him was taken.

As the night wore on, the crowd thinned out, leaving only a handful of what Kaitan assumed were regulars. There was the surly and standoffish Au Ra at the corner table; during the day a young Elezen woman joined him. There was another man who would talk your ear off about fishing, though he at least knew enough to stop when the other party wasn't interested. The one leaning against the stairs dealt with some sort of mining contract - Kaitan had overheard him speaking with a purple haired Au Ra at one point. And then there was the Lalafellian barmaid, who was not native to Ishgard, if Kaitan's ear for accents was anything to go by. He certainly wasn't one to question that, but he did admit to some amount of curiosity as to what had driven the pink haired woman here, of all places.

"Busy night!" The cheerful voice came from down around his knees, and Kaitan looked down to see the barmaid looking up at him with a grin that could only be described as mischievous. She held up a hand as soon as he opened his mouth. "I know, the spot is taken." She leaned in closer to him and dropped her voice to a whisper. "But I think it's been reserved for me."

[pulse-oflife]

Prompt #9 // Fair

The river was quiet today with only a few people nearby who were either washing clothes or enjoying the water. Kaitan had kicked his shoes off and was sitting on a partially submerged rock, dipping his toes in the cool running water. He was wearing a rather broad brimmed straw hat, something his mother had told him to wear to varying degrees of success when he was younger. He wore it now in the same spirit as she had intended - keeping his ears from getting burnt in the Thanalan sun. As a child, he hadn't much appreciated the nigh constant reminders of how sensitive to burning he was, while his younger siblings had usually escaped such treatment. 

Although his father had also required such reminders, if Kaitan remembered correctly. Probably something to do with the Duskwight heritage. Not that anyone had ever really sat down and explained all of this to any of the children. It had taken living in Gridania and being a member of the Foreign Levy to really teach Kaitan the real and perceived differences between Duskwights and Wildwood Elezen. Though he hadn't done any travel to where other Elezen were the predominant race, he was fairly sure that it only really mattered in Gridania, but it mattered so much to certain people, including those in positions of power. 

But that was in his past now, and he was sitting on the bank of a river. He didn't have to worry about what Gridanians thought of him, or his family. They'd left him for dead at Carteneau. It had been a chirurgeon from Ul'dah who had noticed that he was still breathing, though it had been a near thing. He had spent years recovering from the injuries both mental and physical but now here he was. Ready to go back out into the world.