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Drage Herrogard 3

"He is making assumptions," Tristan snarled in his defense. "I have not been with his wife."
 
"That remains to be seen," Valcan replied quietly, giving his son a hard stare, speculating. He knew that Sammael was probably right, but he wasn't going to count his dragons before they hatched. "The fact remains, you two both know that if you want to fight, you fight in the training room." He looked around angrily. "I would expect as much of children, although reasoning may be a little clouded in this situation."
 
Tristan glared back at Sammael, looking from his father to his cousin. They were adoptive brothers, although both of them had never seen it that way. There had always been competition, even now, when they were adults. He could see that Sammael had Valcan's favor, and he started to walk off, angrily.
 
"Where do you think you're going?" Valcan snapped. "I wasn't finished." His blue eyes flared in anger as he looked upon his son.
 
"To my son," Tristan replied, stopping in his tracks nonetheless.
 
"Do either of you have anything else to say?" Valcan inquired, "Before I have Demetri clean up this mess you made?"
 
"Not really," Tristan snapped, "That's why I was leaving."
 
Sammael made a noise that was somewhere between a grunt and a sigh. "I apologize for mess and more importantly the immature actions that were made," he said quietly, still fuming inside.
 
Tristan rolled his eyes slightly. In his eyes, Sammael had always been a suck up.
 
"Well, at least someone has a conscience," Valcan snapped, deciding to ignore his son. He gave both of the men scathing glares, mostly Tristan, however. He was the source of the strife in this situation.
 
Tristan glared back at his father with an equal intensity, then left the room swiftly, seeking out both Brunhilde and his son.
 
Valcan turned back to Sammael, some of his anger having dissipated. "So, Sammael, when do you plan on claiming polyjuiced? I would like to go along. Just as a member of the crowd, of course. And I would very much like to see my granddaughters." He was meaning Sophia also, as Sammael was pretty much his son.
 
Brunhilde stood in Tristan's room, where the cradle had been set up, holding Erik and gazing upon him with the warmest gaze she could muster. She looked up coldly as her brother entered the room, and after one last gaze, she set the child in the cradle, setting a blanket lightly over him. "Why did you do it, brother?" she asked quietly in Norwegian, her expression taut and cold.
 
"Do what?" Tristan grunted, his expression stressed and angry, his eyes flaring.
 
"Don't lie to me, Tristan. You never have been a good liar, and least of all with me." Brunhilde's expression was set in stone, her expression angry. "You know better than anyone else not to touch what's not yours." She smirked. "You never have been able to keep anything from your little sister. Even that muggle woman. Lorelei, wasn't that her name? Is this how you pay tribute to her memory?"
 
"And you never have been good staying out of other people's business," Tristan snapped angrily, but he had nothing else to say. He couldn't argue with Brunhilde. He moved over to his bed, sitting down on it and gazing at his son.
 
"Not when it's family business," Brunhilde snapped back. "It's a familial affair, whether you like it or not. It's what you get for sleeping around with the wife of your brother. And having a son." She moved over to the child. "Not that I mind the nephew. It will be nice to have a child around."

She looked up, smirking. "Speaking of family business, did you hear that father has become the Scandinavian Minister?"
 
"Monday, actually. I would like it if you came along, it would make it seem more credible. I want to let the announcement soak in to the public before I attempt to see Sophia. I may just wait until the summer break."
 
"Good. I will come along. Are we going to the Ministry?" he smirked. "My position of office has been risen, by the way."
 
"Congratulations," Sammael said with a genuine smile. "Yes, I was planning on going to the Ministry. I have tried to reach my boss, but he has not been answering my owls. What is your position now?"
 
Valcan smirked broadly. "Minister of Magic Scandinavia," he said boldly. "Although I daresay not run quite the same as your ministry. It's more of a family business."

He moved to the door, thinking, "And if you so desire, I can offer you a position of office, if you so desire. If you could handle it, I mean."
 
"No," Tristan replied gruffly. He didn't really care. Putting his head in his hands, he sighed, attempting to relieve some of the burden of stress that he carried on his shoulders.
 
"A shame," Brunhilde said quietly, "Well, I'll leave you to your own troubles, brother. For once." She smirked, and strode to the door, and then turned. "By the way, have you seen Lief lately?"
 
"No, I haven't seen him around," Tristan said, "But does anyone these days?"

He sighed as Brunhilde left the room, shutting the door behind her. However, slumber did not claim him, and he was forced to stare at the ceiling and think. How boring it was.
 
"If I can handle it? Oh, I am sure I will prove able to handle any position I am given," Sammael said with a smirk.
 
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