Meidhreach

The youngest twin was a bright student who enjoyed learning about the histories almost as much as he found enjoyment losing himself within old stories of knights and princes, the charming armoured men who swore their duty to protect, and held a brightness within them to bring righteousness wherever they fell. Even from a young age he was aware enough that these were just words on parchment and the reality from viewing the guards that protected his own home and family, it was certainly not the case… but a youngster was allowed to dream. As he reached his adolescent years and his father pushed harder against his older brother, it was then, Meidhreach made the choice. He would become his brother’s sworn sword - to protect and advise the heir and stand at his side once the time came.

Proficient with a bow among the woodlands of home, despite how much he stood out among the flowers and greenery, Meidhreach never allowed such a thing to hold him back and became a natural at allowing himself to sink into the shadows, striking when the time came. With a blade in his hand, his techniques had to change and the youngest was resilient against change, able to shift from a sulking shadow to being in the spotlight, able to make himself seem an easy target, one to pick off early… but, his skills with a blade showed much more than one would expect. Meidhreach stood lithe and pretty, too delicate to show any strength with weaponry surely, but that worked more to his advantage than one could expect.

While Meidhreach trained, his brother studied but the eldest never showed as much eagerness to learn such things as his younger twin and so struggled. His father grew frustrated and as the boys aged, showed less interest in the studies, leaving the eldest to the hands of tutors and educators, and soon started to observe the younger more. Meidhreach was shaping up to be a fine young man, both keen in his studies and not one to hide away from change, surely the qualities of a fine leader.
And the twins were only an hour apart.

Soon focus became on the younger twin, Meidhreach found himself being dragged to more councils at his father’s side, sitting along with his twin. He had barely taken any true notice at first, taking notes and listening to relay any information that his brother might have missed, after all he was there to be his brother’s protector and guidance. But this seemed to wedge distance between them, a frost overcame what was once a close relationship - his brother snapped and lashed out, the resentment that had formed over the years finally being allowed to flourish on the day his father called Meidhreach to his side, and not the eldest brother.

For the first time in his life Meidhreach felt fear, though not for himself, but for his brother. After all, there had been a spare for a reason, if something happened to the son that his father showed distaste for, there was Meidhreach around. Meidhreach had sworn to protect his brother, but he knew, as tensions grew high and his father turned more away - the best protection he could offer was not with a blade, but with vanishing.

He was grown, trained and skilled, enjoyed the peace of the forest and longed to see more of the world detailed within his stories… What could go wrong?

Well, it turns out, creatures of the forest, and rouges within the roads of travel did not fight with the same honour and rules as trained knights and guards did.

Meidhreach had to learn, and while it was not an easy task, he managed enough to get through the lanes. Heavy armour scuffed and parts lost to enable faster travel and drawing less attention to himself, he settled within his loneliness, soon finding a peace within the feeling that rested in the pit of his stomach, after all it was better to be lonely, than hated.

The charming soul found making connections within towns and taverns easy, telling stories of what he had seen and what he had fought over cups of mead and wine, but they were brief and fleeting, he had settled himself as happy with that. Meeting the icefields though, it seemed finally his luck would be at an end, and even his honed skills were not enough to beat away the cold. Unable to rest after a particularly nasty scrap with one of the creatures that became disturbed in the forest by his presence, Meidhreach could not find warmth or the will to carry on; the wind making it impossible to start a fire, and his hands trembled too much as crimson stained the snow.

Meidhreach had accepted his fate, with his rest at the Icewarden’s side, surely his brother would truly be free. His eyes closed with a smile, knowing that while he might have done it in an unconventional manner, he had completed his duty.
He had not expected to wake, let alone waking next to a roaring fire within a cavern, pale ice eyes peering to him as the stranger worked to mend the gash along his cheek, annoyance furrowing in his brows as this new face muttered an apology that it would scar despite his best efforts.

And that was now Meidhreach found the cavern by the sea.

Taken in by the Leader's son, and allowed a place to rest. It was a different world to what he knew, the icefields holding their own brutal touch, but Meidhreach found himself accepted and welcomed within the ranks easily. He made no steps to move away, he had nowhere to go after all, and he was happy to work with what opportunities he had been given.
The bodies within the clan worked together and he learnt more about who resided there, finding the connection of seemingly random dragons pulled together by one leader, a remarkable feat. Demetria had not been born into such a position, and yet she was a natural at bringing peace and comfort, safety towards the clan. Meidhreach found himself most taken aback learning that the dragon’s she referred to as her brother’s were not nestmates at all, one not even being of the same flight, and yet such a thing did not matter… She loved and cared for them, more so through a connection brought through hardship and understanding and not just the coincidence of being hatched in the same nest.
The skills he wielded and knowledge shared with the other guards of the clan and soon once he was rested enough and given permission to go back out, he found his footing working with such. They had hardly believed him capable, not only was he far too gentle and polite, speaking more about the stories and the stars he had counted along his journey… A dragon of his colours would stand out so starkly among the dark forest, and yet, they were impressed. The soft demeanour seemingly melted away within the battle, as the flakes of snow met flake and found themselves no match to the fury; only for it to return and placid once peace had been restored. He was level headed, calm, almost annoyingly so to his fellow guard.

Soft and gentle within the cavern, the dragon became close to the healer who had taken him in; the dragon from the storm was a calming presence to the Wildfire that rested within the short tempered healer. The two became close and even as Fionntán made his preparations to start travelling again, Meidhreach was close behind. He had sworn his sword to protect an heir, a future leader… and relinquishing his duty to one, he found acceptance in another. Fionntán hardly needed protecting, he knew the unspoken rules of tavern brawling and tumbles more than most, but Meidhreach remained happy to be at his side, able to offer more than just a blade… The polar opposites complemented one another, and Meidhreach found true happiness in the moment the healer referred to him as ‘brother’. A bond more than just the blood ties he had been born too and struggled free from, a connection made within the storm and ice.