The Kings Directive

Brynmore

The day was pleasantly warm, a few shafts of light sprinkling down into the dark forest. It was quite a peaceful day in Blackwood, the soft murmurs of the herd as they slowly meandered through the wood, munching on whatever could be found and chatting with their neighbors as song birds high above dared to sing a few sweet songs to each other.

Brynmore enjoyed it, feeling, if not happy, content as he looked over the herd from his rather sunny patch. He’d ventured to the edge of the herd a few days ago, keeping a respectful distance until he could had found enough courage to get closer and intermingle with them, and try to get an audience with the king.

His resolve had hardened over the spring and summer to speak with the king as well as to get better for the herd. It was a bit nerve wracking, he wondered how this king would be, if he was like King Anarawd or others before him. Even if he was, or wasn’t, Brynmore wanted to make a good impression and to stand out to him.

Taking a calming breath, Brynmore set from his sunny patch off toward the herd. He gave a few greetings to grumpy looking does and looked with a pang of sorrow at the scrawny little ones who played around the grown ups. He nodded to a soldier who stood on guard, murmured a greeting to him. He didn’t know exactly how King Skoll looked, having been away so long on raids and avoiding the herd.

Pausing, he looked around. *Hm, perhaps he is atop a high hill overlooking it all, with a group of does. No, that was a king of many years ago.* Brynmore wasn’t sure what to do, but he put a brave face on to hide his anxiety. Stepping lightly, he came over to a large tree with a stag standing beside it.

“Hello, may I join you?” Brynmore asked from a few lengths away. Blackwoods were territorial over their food, but Brynmore couldn’t tell if the stag was feeding or not. It would be nice to have a chat with someone and not look, so awkward in his search of the king. It would also give him some time to organize his thoughts, and see if other members of the herd thought as he did.

Skoll

The days were slowly becoming shorter, yet autumn and the harsh days of winter were still a good number of days away from them. Skoll was doing his best to provide the best grazing grounds for the fawnlings of Blackwood as well as have an ear for all their problems and issues and keep the guards and soldiers coordinated. Slowly he was starting to feel he was running the herd all by himself, with the illusive queen hardly ever showing up and if she did speaking very little about actual matters of the herd, but seeming busier with her own secret affairs and the General still being painfully inactive about his actual duty of organizing the soldiers and making sure the raiders and guards knew when they should be where.

He had talked to a couple soldiers again today, who had yet again told him about how their General was doing is duty of guarding very well, but not exactly is duty of organizing them. It was frustrating, he had hoped he would have a strong and reliable team to rule Blackwood with and now, there he was, feeling somewhat left by himself, if it wasn’t for Nira and Hagen, who did their best to help them as good as they could.
After the talk with the soldiers, he had decided he needed to let off some steam and so gone to the old, strong tree he had set himself upon pushing over one day, so far however, he had not yet had any success and also today the tree had not given in to him. Skoll however felt relieved, musingly looking up the old, strong trunk of the huge pine, when suddenly he heard someone speaking up to him.

Turning, he saw it was another stag, he appeared somehow familiar, yet Skoll could not place him, more like somebody he only knew from sight, but hadn’t seen in a long time. He was a welcome distraction though, Skoll always enjoyed meeting new faces, for he felt he should know as many fawnlings as possible in his lands.
“Of course, be my guest, there is some moss growing between the roots.” he said with a little nod, “I was just trying to finally beat an old sparring partner of mine, but turns out he is still stronger.” he said with a bit of a chuckle, briefly looking up the tree again.  

Brynmore

Brynmore nodded, a simple smile coming to his face. Relaxing a bit, he walked over. “Aah, I see.” He looked at the tree. It held many scars from past “battles”, and looked to be a formidable tree.

Pausing, he searched over the stag again. He was well muscled, with a few scars of battle, but seemed healthy enough and not crippled like himself. Lowering his head, he took a small mouthful of the moss. He wasn’t really hungry, he was to nervous about finding the king to be, but it gave him some time to think about what to say. He had thought he’d gathered his thoughts this morning of what to say to the king, or anyone for that matter, but they had scattered once he’d approached the herd.

“Hmm.” he mused aloud as he slowly chewed the moss before swallowing. “The young ones look much stronger this year,” he said aloud as a few young ones darted past playing a game. It grabbed at his heart, seeing them play and he thought he saw the flash of silver and white that would have been Danzig, or a dash of starlight amongst a black sky that would have been Gilraen. *No, no no no, not now. They are safe, think of the now.*

“It seems the king and queen have chosen good grazing areas, for the herd to have such strong young running around,” he sighed.

Skoll

Skoll smiled back at the other stag, watching him crane down his neck to take a bite of moss and chew it slowly, almost musingly. He looked not much younger than him, fairly tall and despite what seemed to be a still slightly stiff leg from probably an old fight he had lost, he also appeared healthy and strong enough, nothing time and training wouldn’t be able to heal again. He also seemed to not have recognized Skoll as the one he was, which actually pleased him, he prefered getting to know people without the large weight some seemed to unnecessarily feel, when actually knowing they faced the king.

He was as much a king as he was a brother of Blackwood and that was also how he wanted to be viewed as, a brother, ready to protect and care for his siblings, the children of Ùir they all were.
A couple fawns raced past them in wild play, making Skoll follow them with his eyes and a bit of a smile playing on his lips, still wearing it, when he turned back to the other stag, once he spoke up.
“Yes, they do.” Skoll agreed, “It is good to see them play like this, strong and wild, as they should be.” he chuckled, when two colts pushed each other over, rolled in the dirt for a moment, laughed and reassumed running after each other.

“They do try their best, I am sure.” he said with a bit of a nod, “Granted, the queen is proving to be very elusive, she hardly is around much sadly.” he heaved somewhat of a sigh, “The General seems to do his job just fine, but I do believe the king would wish he’d also pay more attention to educating the young bucks and does and make sure they don’t just romp around aimlessly. He is a good soldier, no doubt, but only protecting the border makes no very well-trained army, I’m afraid.” he told, wiggling his nose somewhat.

Brynmore

The roan stag gave a smile as he watched the two young bucks fall on top of each before racing off again laughing.

Turning, he listened to the other stag, nodding at his words. *Very interesting.* “I do not know much about the new queen, or even the new king for that matter. I’ve, been away too long.” he said sheepishly.

He tried recalling any time he’d seen General Brismor, or when he’d ever had gotten direct orders from him, which he never had. Oh, he’d seen him enough to remember what he looked like, the giant that he was, towering over everyone. But he’d never had a personal encounter with him, thank Uir. At least not yet. Wise old Hagen’s message stirred again, weaving in and out like smoke and mist.

Brynmore nodded. “Aye, it doesn’t. I should have taught my son and daughter when I had the chance. And my mate.” He thought dimly, of all that he should have done for them, to make sure they would have been safe for the future. Even if they were in Glenmore, who knew when one had to defend their self or family. He looked forlornly toward a small group of yearlings and two year olds, with some very young sibling playing around them.

Skoll

Skoll twitched an ear somewhat, a slight smirk playing on his lips, when Brynmore told about not knowing much about the current king or queen, for he had been away for too long.
“I’m sure you had very good reasons, though.” he said, “However, I’m also sure the king very much appreciates to see experienced stags such as yourself return to the herd. Ùir knows they need guidance to develop a new idea of unity. Everybody stayed and followed only their own ideals for so long, they need to learn that true strength does not just come from the individual alone, but also from the unity of many.” he nodded slowly.

His gaze returned to Brynmore, when he agreed about the young needing guidance, training and teaching, to know their own strength and how to best make a use of it. He saw sadness briefly flicker in the other’s dark eyes, when he told about his children and mate and Skoll knew this kind of sadness just too well.

“Yes, I know what you mean. My first mate...she was a pale doe of Glenmore, but she was strong in her own way, yet I was a fool to believe our love ever could become anything else, but painful.” he shook his head with a sigh, “I was a young fool back then, I should have known better, but I thought I was strong enough to protect them, which I wasn’t. Nobody however taught me about the dangers, nobody showed me what being a warrior, being a raider truly meant. The youth needs fawnlings to look up to, fawnlings who made mistakes, fawnlings who learned from them and are willing to help protect this strong, new generation from making the same.”, he heaved a bit of a sigh, just to tilt his head a bit at Brynmore, “What about you? Did you consider challenging for General?”

Brynmore

Brynmore looked back to the stag, giving a slight nod to his words, understanding the pain. He was glad to have found at least a small bit of kinship with this stranger, and gave a sad smile as he lamented about the harsh learning he had done as a youngster. Brynmore felt the same. He’d grown in a every one for himself world, instead of a strong, united herd this stag was speaking of for a future.

“What about you? Did you consider challenging for General?” Brynmore shouldn’t have seemed to surprised by the question, but it still took him back. Looking away, he grimaced slightly and shifted his weight a bit. Had rumors spread of him looking to take the position? *If Brismor had heard, would he be coming after me?* he thought.

Sighing, he said, “I’ve thought about it. This leg though needs some more healing and needs to be stronger before I take on the bear Brismor.” He looked down at his leg. It held weight at a stand still perfectly now, but it got tired and sore if worked to hard or too long. He’d start training, soon enough with others. First he’d get acquainted with his fellow soldiers and herd members and used to the ways of being in a herd.

“What about you? Have you thought of becoming General? From what you’ve said, you’ve been a soldier and raider.”

Skoll

Skoll returned the little smile the stranger gave him, feeling he saw in his eyes, that he had likely been through a similar situation. Then again, quite a number of stags seemed to have had these kind of experiences, growing up with hardly anybody teaching them about what it truly meant to be a raider and how important it was to not only let one’s heart take the lead, when it came to saving does from other kingdoms, but also make sure they were strong enough to fit the harsh lands of Ùir. He knew, he could have saved himself, Lira and their poor, beloved son a lot of pain, had he only thought earlier, before having fallen for the pale doe and siring a colt just as pale, still making them both outcasts to their lands and unfit to share his.

The dark stag saw the roan male shift uncomfortably a bit, he couldn’t blame him. Brismor was a mount of a stag, huge and without any humour, a military man, a soldier through and through, his presence alone was usually enough to intimidate every threat, yet was this full-blooded warrior really fit to command the soldiers of Blackwood? Sure, he was a great warrior himself, true to the herd and his duty, but so far he had neither proven himself much of a leader or teacher, mostly working alone and leaving giving orders to Skoll or even Nira, when she was in charge of the herd in Skoll’s name and hopefully also soon officially in her own respect.

Skoll nodded slightly, looking down at the other’s leg, it seemed healed alright, yet the wound obviously had been serious and the leg would now need some training to get the muscles back to where they should be. Skoll considered for a moment, before he said,
“Have you thought about giving lessons to the young?” he looked up again to face Brynmore, “You seem like an experienced raider and while you leg is still recovering, why not make a use of the training for everyone? I’m sure the young bucks and fillies would be very glad to train and spar with a stag like you and all the while the training with them will also get you back in shape and who knows, maybe even enough to take Brismor’s place eventually.” he suggested with a bit of a wink, yet it was clear it was a genuine meant suggestion rather than a joke.

A chuckle then escaped him, when Brynmore asked him maybe aspiring the position of general. Maybe he was starting to play a bit of a mean game with this fine fellow, but Skoll had learned that many fawnlings spoke far more openly to him, when they got to know him without yet knowing his position and he prefered it that way. He was no better than them, he was here to protect and guide them.
“Ah, yes, when I was younger I might’ve spared a thought or two about it…” he eventually said in a musing tone. “Eventually however, it turned out I was meant for other things.” he chuckled again, “May I ask you name, by the way, I realize, we haven’t even introduced each other yet.”

Brynmore

Brynmore perked his ears at the mention of teaching. Hagen had made a small mention of youngsters, but Brynmore had never really thought of it. “Why, no I hadn’t.” He mulled it over, turning the idea over in his head. *Yes, yes, that is something to do!* Smiling at the stag, he gave a small nod. “I hadn’t thought of it, but it sounds, fun. And it will be my atonement for my children and what they lacked. No parent should lose their children, whether from their own weakness or their child’s inexperience.”

Brynmore chuckled at the dark stags answer of thinking of becoming General. “I think all young stags dream of attaining such a rank.” He nodded, looking at his companion with an interested look when he mentioned being for other things. Before he could ask what he those other things were, the stag asked his name.

“I am Brynmore, former raider of one of the Glenmore bands. Though I preferred striking out on my own till these past few years, where I tried staying closer to home and my mate and children. A red bear of a Glenmore bull beat me and ‘stole’ her and the children back to Glenmore. It is a mixed blessing, for I miss them so much, but they are far safer there.” He explained quickly. He wasn’t too proud of being beaten by a bloody Glenmore, especially on home turf, but someday, he would find the red stag.

“So, what is your name? And what is it that you are meant for, you mentioned it earlier.”

Skoll

The dark stag watched the other pondering over his words, he almost saw how Brynmore was letting them roll back and forth inside his head, like a particularly tasty piece of moss, you first wanted to take in with all senses, before swallowing it. It made a smile appear on Skoll’s lips again, that only grew bigger, when the other stag agreed that the idea of training the young was indeed a good one, to not only prepare them, but also get himself back into shape.
“Oh, I bet it will be fun, you look just like the type of stag the youngsters will respect, but not fear, like they fear Brismor. Fear is a powerful weapon, but it should not be used against your own kin, there is a big difference between true respect and fear, I think and our young need a respected mentor to follow.” he nodded firmly.

“That is very true, my friend.” Skoll then nodded with a sigh, “I’m sure many does and stags will be grateful for what you will do, turning their young into strong warriors and I’m sure, when handling those rascals, you yourself will be back in your old shape, in no time and who knows, the position of General might still be waiting for you then.” he said with a chuckle and a wink. He of course didn’t mean to force the roan stag into the position, but Skoll did think, Brynmore would make a good General to Blackwood, perhaps better than he thought himself. Yet, even if he wouldn’t, an experienced, fatherly figure to teach them was just what they needed and Skoll was glad he had run into Brynmore today for that.

“It’s a pleasure, Brynmore.” Skoll nodded, followed by a huff, when Brynmore told about how a guard had stolen away his family, “It’s a shame, a horrible shame in front of the Mother, that these inbred weaklings claim us to be the ones to steal away does, while in truth it’s them, who abuse their females and young, it’s despicable.” he stomped a hoof, “But don’t blame it on you, there are also good people in Glenmore and as you say, you mate and children will be safe there and one fine day, you will be reunited with them.” he again nodded firmly.

A mischievous smirk then suddenly appeared on his lips, when it was Brynmore’s turn to ask for an introduction,
“Skoll. My name’s Skoll.” he just said.

Brynmore

Brynmore smiled at the thought of teaching little ones, and nodded at the other stag’s comments about Glenmore’s. He sent a silent prayer to the Mother that Rosie and the children really were safe.

Brynmore looked quizzically at the stag, Skoll, and his smirk. *Strange.* he thought.

“Well, Skoll, a wise stag told me that it was The Mother’s will that my mate and children be returned to Glenmore, to serve some other purpose, and that I remain. Perhaps it is to teach other young ones the lessons so many learn the hard way.” He looked over to where some other herd members were standing, the colts that had been running and playing earlier now snuggled at their mothers feet. The thought of teaching youngsters to defend themselves, and to tell the stories of his own youth to them so they may learn from his mistakes took a firm root in his head. He wanted to begin immediately.

“Hmm, do you know where I may find the king? I don’t feel that General Brismor is one to bring this new idea of teaching youngsters to, and not many have seen the Queen in these parts, or near the herd. I must ask the king for permission to begin training our young for the dangers ahead of them.”

Skoll

It indeed took Skoll quite some effort by now, to not start laughing at this point. Obviously the stag had not yet heard his name or was simply assuming that he might be another stag called Skoll. Well, he couldn’t really blame him, he obviously had been away for quite a long time and it was a fact, that Skoll did handle things quite differently than the king before him.
He did see Brynmore ponder some, but say nothing about it and so neither did Skoll, even though he believed he probably should come out with it eventually now, as much fun as it was to prank his new acquaintance a little about his identity, he also didn’t want to mock him.

He was however very glad, to see the content expression that had grown on Brynmore’s face, upon the idea they had come up with, of him teaching the young, it was indeed a great idea, Skoll thought and the Mother had been kind to make them meet today, indeed.
A bit of a chuckle then escaped him, followed by a nod,
“Wise words indeed and I am sure they are true.” he smiled, “Indeed, the herd needs to unite again, we need to become one again to become even stronger and I am sure the key to this is our young. Much strength is within them, they are our future and we should do our best to prepare them to one day become great, each in their own way.” he agreed, still smiling.

When Brynmore them asked where to find the king, Skoll no longer could hold it, but a hearty laugh escaped him, his head shaking slightly. It was a good-natured, genuine laugh, no mocking one and so was his smile, when he looked at Brynmore again,
“Oh, my good friend, but you’ve long gained the King’s permission already.” he said, “I’m sorry I did not tell you, please believe me, when I say I never meant or would mean to mock you, it is just, I discovered many speak a lot freer, if they are not aware who I am straight away.” he told, “I’m not the old king, I am who I am and I’m no better than you and this is just how I want to be seen and treated. We are all brothers and sisters.” he nodded, “Will you forgive me my little bit of fun? It was for a good cause, after all.” he winked.

Brynmore

Brynmore gave a startled look back at Skoll, eyes wide. Was he, laughing, at him? The roan stag felt his heart beat a little faster with embarrassment tinged with annoyance. Was it such a ridiculous request to bring to the king?

But as Skoll’s laughter subsided, Brynmore saw his expression wasn’t one of mocking. And his words made Brynmore perk his ears and his mouth hung open slightly. He had been speaking with the king this whole time?!

Brynmore closed his mouth as Skoll finished his small speech, and gave a small gulp. “Of course, sir.” Reflecting back on his words about being no better, Brynmore could see the truth in it. He was a leader, meant to lead them, but was still a part of the herd and interacted with everyone. He wasn’t above them all like those ridiculous Glenmores his mother told him stories about, how only royalty were the “real” children of those gods. Everyone was a child of Ùir, both in Blackwood where it was accepted and celebrated, and in the other kingdoms where they fought the truth and didn’t accept it.

Looking Skoll, King Skoll in the eye, Brynmore nodded. “Yes, we are all brothers and sisters. I think it is time for the herd to become one once again. I shall begin instructing the youth soon, as soon as my leg is just a bit more strong and the herd is used to me.” He gave a hesitant pause, “Is, that alright?”

Skoll

The dark stag saw the other at first look quite a bit annoyed at his laughter, yet to Skoll’s relief, he didn’t seem to be mad for long, but instead gulped somewhat, upon realizing he had been talking with the king all the way, his reaction exactly reflecting the reason why Skoll tended to not introduce himself as the one he was, which also Brynmore seemed to understand.

“Skoll, I’m sir of nobody.” he merely said, when Brynmore addressed him as ‘sir’, a little smirk playing on his lips, by now he was used to having to remind fawnlings a couple of times, that he wished not to be addressed any different than before he had been king.
“I know I’m the king, you don’t need to remind me by the way you address me. I’m no inbred Glenmore, who needs to rely on such empty titles to be ensured of his power.” he added with a little wink.

His smile grew proud, when Brynmore spoke again, followed by a firm nod,
“Very well spoken, my friend! Let us all become brothers and sisters again, like we already were to begin with!” he said, followed by a short laugh at Brynmore’s almost shy question.
“Of course, for Ùir’s sake!” he laughed good-naturedly, giving Brynmore a friendly bump with his shoulder, “Now stop asking for permissions you already got three times and get to work, stag.” he winked once more.

Brynmore

The roan stag looked at Skoll strangely as his shoulder was bumped and the king laughed. Brynmore gave an odd little smile, not quite sure how to respond to such a jovial king. It was refreshing having a good natured fawnling, let alone king, in the grimness that is Blackwood. One who cared for others and not their own ambition, but for the herds ambition and needs.

Taking a few steps back, he gave a small bow of his head. “Yes, si-err- Skoll.” He remembered he didn’t want to be addressed formally, or be treated any differently than his fellow brothers and sisters. “I shall be on my way then.” He paused, wanting to say more, but didn’t quite know how to make the words sound, okay. Nothing sounded proper enough, or was to proper for King Skoll’s taste. So Brynmore gave another small bob of his head, and looking toward the herd, took a few steps.

Pausing, he looked back, “I shall find some older soldiers to train some more before tackling the youngsters. Should be easier to practice on them than rambunctious and off the trees youngsters.” He gave one last smile, before trotting off to find a few soldier acquaintances.