Lauren
Sergeant Jax Brightwater
Brindelle, North Shore

"Heath, this isn't about not wanting to be in service to you and your sister." His professional facade was melting away and suddenly he was the young boy back in Feyshore again, sneaking into the bars to try and deliver his charges.

"I wanted to stay, for so long I wanted to climb the ranks and stand as a knight under you again." Jax pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache springing out of nowhere.

*"What are you doing, Brightwater!? Get back into that breach!!"*

"But I'm sorry. I'm tired, Sir. I'm tired of chasing drunkards through the market and getting nothing but a slap on the wrist for not shouting 'In the name of the Queen!' Enough. I'm sorry, but I don't want to spend my life being walked all over. Not again." Jax returned to his straight stance, preparing for the onslaught of words he knew was coming.
Frank
Sir Heath Romanov
Brindelle, The North Shore

Heath could feel the hairs on his exposed forearms begin to rise as the office grew colder. He wanted nothing more than to dismiss Jax and head to the warmest tavern in Brindelle for a night spent warming his blood with ale and then crawling back home into bed with his wife. However, he presumed this would be the last he would ever see of Brightwater and there was a nostalgic part of him that was beginning to feel sad to see the man go. 

"Beth always told me that you'd be an asset to the royal guard. Perhaps I should not have brushed away her opinions so often," Heath mused, "I suppose you could not remain unsung forever. I hope you find the life you are looking for in Astoria. It is quite different down there." He looked down at the untouched glass of rum for Jax, wondering if he had more of a taste for red. "Well, old boy, Goodb—"

"*Heath, I got blood all over my tapestry*," A lilting voice moaned from the doorway. Heath looked over Jax's shoulder in surprise and saw Queen Elle clutching the tapestry she had been working on so diligently to her chest. Her fingers trembled over the fabric, bleeding into the stitches. "Oh, I apologize for interrupting," She said, eyeing Jax. 

"You are not interrupting. Jax Brightwater came to say farewell. He's leaving for Astoria," Heath told her. Elle knit her eyebrows together.

"Do we have business in Astoria? Why is one of our men being sent there?" She asked, coming further into the room and leaving her soiled tapestry in the doorway. 

"It's unfortunate, he's not one of ours any longer. He will be working for Anyanka," Heath said, clapping Jax's shoulder. Elle narrowed her honey hued eyes and studied Jax for a full, uncomfortable minute. 

"Poor form to visit a castle and lift whomever you please," She said finally, brushing her curls off of her shoulder, "I suppose I cannot expect proper decorum from the whore queen." 

"Okay," Heath said. 

"It is what they call her, no?" Elle said, addressing Jax directly.
Lauren
Sergeant Jax Brightwater
Brindelle, North Shore

"Who do you mean by 'they' Majesty?" Jax said with a small bow as he was addressed.

"You're the first person I've heard use that moniker, and from my time among your streets I've learned that sometimes rumors are created simply out of boredom. For instance there are those among your kingdom who call you a Black Widow, they seem to blame the King's failing health on you and your brothers. I mean no offense but it seems they believe the Romanovs are tired of being second to rulers." Jax straightened, glancing at the untouched whiskey. He was thirsty, however he wouldn't dare drink in front of his betters, especially these betters.
Frank
Sir Heath Romanov 
Brindelle, The North Shore 

Queen Elle smiled tightly. "You have an ear for gossip. I hope that when you arrive to Astorian court, you will keep what you've heard here to yourself, lest we have a reason to try you for treason," She said. She tapped her chin thrice with her finger before adding with a sardonic laugh, "You know, my brother was well known for his whoring, much to our family's dismay. Our father feared that he would wed one of the many whores he bedded over the years. Unbeknownst to anyone, he even sired a child with one of them. Luckily, he married dear Lady Skorn respectfully." 

"That's enough, Elle," Heath said, stiffly. "It's getting late and I'm certain that Jax would like to begin his journey south." He went to his desk drawer and pulled out a golden colored flask. The surface was smooth, free from any engraved crests. Upon unscrewing the lid, Heath poured the rum into the opening and handed it to Jax. "Take it, you may change your mind on the road about that drink."

"I wish you well, Jax," Elle said with all the grace of a queen and none of the sincerity.
Lauren
Sergeant Jax Brightwater
Brindelle, North Shore

Jax's honor was being tested, but the urge to smack a Queen was not as great as his urge to walk out of the castle alive.

"It's good to see at least one rumor was false." Jax bowed to the lady, "Your kind words know no equal." The venom coated words of his tongue felt sour, but Feyshorian knights weren't altogether known for their humble apologies. 

He took the flask from Heath with a smile and bowed again.

"Thank you, old friend. I for one hope this isn't our last meeting as friends." Jax secretly hoped the two never met on the battlefield, although he bragged about being Heath's equal in sword he was in no rush to finally test that.

He held out his hand to the man who had always been there throughout his career, pocketing the flask in his breast pocket.

"So long, brother. May you find happiness in your trails." With that he bowed to Elsinore once again, thanking her for the time he spent in the guard, and turned to leave.