one hell of a butler

Aftermath

Python sits back, grimacing at the way his pants cling to his legs as he shifts. He makes no move to retrieve his washcloth, but his eyes sweep over the form of the other man. His previous assessment was off—Jakob’s posture isn’t one of a man bent in servitude, not right now. He’s hunched over the floor like it’s an opponent he’s beating into submission, squeezing some personal revenge out of boot scuffs and wine stains. Sheesh, what a piece of work. “The useless life is the easier one if you ask me. Why set the bar so high? You’re just setting up to trip over it on a bad day and fall flat on your face.” It just doesn’t make sense. Getting tossed out, having to scrape by—that’s something Python can understand. The part that baffles him is the idea of getting kicked to the curb and then banging on the door to be let back in. What purpose is there in devoting himself so deeply to cleaning up after some blue blood? Surely there’s no grand, chivalrous path to be opened up for future little children who dream every night of the honor of washing silks instead of regular old linens. It’s unlike even the wildest dreams of the biggest dreamer Python knows. “What ‘potential’ are you even fightin’ for? Employee of the month? Royal side piece?” He scoffs. “Sounds like a waste to me.”

His companion had seriously misjudged Jakob’s character if he thought any bar for a royal butler such as himself was too high. No, perfection was attainable. It just needed to be sought after.

“I don’t care for something easy.” Jakob dunked his washcloth in the bucket and kept scrubbing until he was satisfied that the floor they were on was as sparkling clean as it had been the day it was first polished. “What’s easy is having nothing to do. No purpose, no meaning. Might as well nap all day with that attitude.” And if you do that, who will want you? Who will love you? No one. No one loves spoiled nobles who do nothing, who think they might have earned affection just for existing, just because they were someone’s son…

And again, what was with people thinking he wanted more than to be Corrin’s servant? She was married.

He wasn’t jealous.

Honestly.

“I don’t need anything more than what I have. My proximity to Corrin and continued service to her is all I wish for. It isn’t a matter of ownership or something twisted like that. It’s just what I want to do. I’ve achieved peak life satisfaction.”

He said this, kneeling on the ground with soaked knees and hands and a back that was beginning to complain despite all of its training not to. His own words sounded a little hollow.

Supposedly, he had a son too in the Deeprealms or somewhere back in the castles at home. And therefore he had a wife. See, he had even more to be happy about. He hadn’t seen Dwyer in awhile and he wasn’t actually sure who his mother might be, but…

For a split second his shoulders slumped.

Then he stood, grabbing the bucket.

live to serve

    A butler! Despite Jakob’s clear crabby attitude, he could see reason and give answers when prompted with logical responses, so it would seem. The man wasn’t beyond saving, but beyond that, there was a certain quality to his character that shined through, enough to almost make Kent willing to forgive the man’s pettiness altogether.

“ Perhaps I shall. Fix myself a cup of coffee, that is. ”  No sense in wasting a pot, and the man had already made it clear that he was no enemy. But while Kent is there, pouring himself a cup, foregoing the sugars and cream, he makes a comment on Jakob’s self-introduction at last.

“ A steward so loyal as to follow his liege lord no matter her change in location and be able to adapt to that new environment is a worthy thing. ”  There is not enough from what Jakob has said to know what Lady Corrin has come here for: as a student, another faculty member (though he can’t recall her name on the roster either), or as a knight. However, there is one undeniable fact.

Jakob held a level of pride in how he served his liege lady. It reminded Kent of himself, except…

“ Though I am curious as to why you prefer the title of butler over retainer. As a steward and knight once myself, I would have chosen my title as knight over steward any day… ”

Jakob watched Kent make himself a cup of coffee, zeroing in on how he took it. Black, no cream or sugar. Did Kent truly appreciate coffee like that, full bodied with nothing to mellow the bitterness, or had he never drank coffee before? Corrin preferred more cream and sugar than coffee it seemed, and here was here polar opposite. Perhaps he was a man who was used to life with little luxury. Perhaps he wanted to impress Jakob, but that was not done by drinking such a brew like it was some bottom of the barrel tavern’s dishwater.

So he eyed Kent keenly like he was a creature under a magnifying glass, watching for any reaction as he drank.

“You must have been a poor steward.” No, maybe not. Jakob waved his hand airily. “No no, your bafflement is all too common. The knights all think they’ve got the best job with the title of Sir this or Lady that. The difference between butler and retainer is that one portrays my full skillset; being a knight doesn’t require one to have any taste.”

Humble, as ever.

Jakob lost himself in his own cup of coffee for a moment, savoring the flavor. He looked at Kent again, figuring they were stuck with each other until his break was up. Besides, Corrin would appreciate anything Jakob learned.

loop de loop.

ohhhhhh, okay. that made sense. kiragi had thought it was odd for jakob to be wanting to help any kids do anything. but, he couldn’t think of what else it could have possibly been. it wasn’t like jakob had friends or anything, but if the bracelet was for corrin then that actually made a lot more sense. “are you and corrin friends?” he wonders outloud, turning his attention back to the threads woven in his hands. hisame always said that vassals were supposed to be subservient to their lords. made it easier when things, you know, happened.

he didn’t really know how it worked in nohr, but that seemed like the case when it came to the royal retainers too from what he saw.

he’d never been fond of that kind of thinking himself.

dad and hinata and oboro were great friends, so he thinks it’s possible. he just doesn’t know or think it’s possible for someone like jakob, who’s always so particular about this and that. the toe that the loop of his bracelet is hooked on flexes slightly as he deftly weaves another row of knots into the chain before the butler’s complaint gets his attention again. “oh, it’s easy! you’d have to start over from the beginning, th—jeez!” kiragi jolts back at jakob’s sudden complaint and archer nearly tugs off his own toe in the motion. yeesh, someone was taking it kinda hard, huh?

“hey, don’t worry ‘bout it! look, see? what you’ve got here is a great start! you’ve just gotta make sure you don’t have the little bumpy stuff here,” he chirps, pausing for a second before he drops the threads and grabs a handful of other embroidery floss. well, maybe he shouldn’t suggest to start all over. it was a little messy looking, but he’s sure that if it’s for corrin then he must’ve put his whole heart into it. but also saying that she’d be happy with anything that he gave her might also set him off. “hey, do you want some help? i can unknot this little bit here,” he points with his nail, careful to not touch, “and then teach you how to make little hearts! or we can make little triangles if you wanna give it a try!”

Jakob was caught off guard by a seemingly straightforward question, hands pausing in the tangle of his own bracelet for a moment. Were he and Corrin friends? How could Kiragi just ask something like that? He stared ahead, heart racing.

Certainly he wanted to be, but...

“It would be presumptuous to assume I am a friend of any member of the royal family I serve.” Diplomatic in diction, but his tone wavered. “Yet, Corrin is known for her warmth, the likes of which is even extended to her servants. While I must not put myself above my station in a manner of which would be unbecoming for a servant such as myself, to rebuff Corrin’s view of the matter is unacceptable. So.. we are friends in a sense, but I would prefer to keep the matter professional.”

He looked back down at the mess of the bracelet in his hands and scowled. “Anyone could I see I have to start over.” Still, he followed Kiragi’s directions, sighing as he undid his work and looked to Kiragi for help. “I never take anything too hard.” A lie, a a bad one, but whatever. “Very well, I accept your help. She might like the hearts the best.”

mockiatto​:

Oh Nohr You Don’t [Leo & Jakob]

Knowing her ever present butler has a key to their dorm and seeing the consequences of said action are two different things. 

He returns to his dorm intent on changing into clothing more suitable for gardening. The last class he was required to teach for the day ended an hour or so after lunch, leaving him plenty of time before dinner for recreational activities. 

True to form, he’d begun growing a small tomato patch in the greenhouse. The exercise helps him unwind, all worries and stresses of the day fading while he focuses on his plants. One of them requires trimming; another week or so and he should start seeing the first tiny fruits appear. 

Key turns in the lock. He shuts the door behind him, already removing his cape, stopping only when a feather duster is waved in his face. Gaze flicks down to the ineffectual weapon before settling cooly on Jakob’s face. He drapes the cape smoothly over one arm. 

“Excuse me?” Now he sees the books piled about the floor. A few again line the shelf, out of order. His right eye begins to twitch. 

One gloved hand easily knocks the duster aside. “I survived twenty years on my own. Shall we see how I’ll fare over the next twenty?” Leo stalks past the intrusive butler. “I don’t recall giving you permission to touch my books.” They did need to be dusted; a project for a day when he’s not dying in a tome. 

Movements are sharp as he removes the few tomes off the shelf. “There is an order to them, not that I’d expect you to notice or care. Had you asked, you would know.” Irritation glitters in his eyes when he rounds on the other man. “You may go, Jakob.“

Jakob really should get some respect for the Nohrian royal family someday, but he had never quite found the time to care what anyone but Corrin thought of him. Oh well. Even as Leo’s eye twitched, Jakob remained unperturbed. What was Leo going to do, hurt Corrin’s favorite butler? He doubted it.

Maybe he abused his status and the immunity he assumed he had.

Leo was just as aggravated as Jakob thought he might be, but he didn’t budge. “I require no permission to attend to Lady Corrin, thank you. And as you say, I may go, but I have no intention to,” he said smoothly.

He finally did frown when Leo pulled the books he had placed on the shelf off. “Ahem, you’ll find those to be perfectly dusted.” Was Leo this ornery about the order of the tomes on the shelf? Well then. Jakob folded his arms. He still had to sweep up the floor after dusting, and Corrin’s bedding might need changed, and he didn’t have time for this.

“Enlighten me, oh esteemed mage,” he drawled. “I get the impression you don’t even look at the majority of them on a daily basis. Maybe because you can’t reach the top shelf on your own.”

Aftermath

Python recoils when he’s assaulted again—this time with a splash of water that has his sleeves and his pants both sticking miserably to his skin. He glowers, twisting the washcloth in his grip. Spoiled? Accurate insults were things he could abide. Lazy, foolish, rude, good-for-nothing. But spoiled? “Look, fancypants, I thought this was obvious, but I don’t come from noble stock. I’ve had to dirty my hands to earn my keep my whole damned life.” Sawdust and blood, both caked on his palms. “I’ve got no need for dignity, ‘specially if it’s getting handed down like some special gift from folks who were born with the privilege of it.” Previous risk assessment be damned. If acquiescing just gets him bitten again, he may as well bite back. He throws the cloth at Jakob’s face and it collides with a wet slapping sound. With his hands freed, he decides to roll up his damp sleeves. “Working hard just makes the boss work you harder. Maybe if you unclenched long enough to take a step back you’d have noticed that.”

Jakob stood corrected. This guy clearly wasn’t spoiled.

However, he didn’t appreciate the washcloth that hit his face with a resounding splat, as though someone had taken an omlete and thrown it down on hardwood floor. He froze, rag dramatically sliding down his cheek, leaving a trail of soap suds and debris. The rag fell to the floor and he was still staring at Python.

He sniffed, derisive. He put a lot of effort in making sure he could squeeze as much contempt as economically possible into one sound that wasn’t even a syllable.

“Regardless of my stock, working hard and dirtying my hands without sleep was also my only option. I used to be bloody useless.” He scrubbed, vision tinted with red as he took out his own life’s troubles on the stain in front of him. “Doesn’t matter if I was born noble when my parents got rid of me. I was lowest of the low, made fun of by the other servants, called an urchin boy, and now I attend to royalty. So fine, you don’t need dignity, and it’s no concern of mine if you want to waste your potential.”

Bye-Sexual [Leon & Jakob]

Oh, wow. Leon listens for awhile, though eventually every single one of his words goes in one ear and out the other. Was this how he sounded years ago…? He rolls his eyes, scoffing at the suggestion that anyone could be better than him. “Excuse me? I don’t know this Corrin, but I’m sure I could match up easily, actually.”

And then he pauses. Blinking at the butler as the words sink in. Had he not been looking at Leon because…?

“You don’t have to worry about that– I have no taste for ladies.” He brushes a strand of his hair over his shoulder, looking mildly annoyed. Looks weren’t everything, it seemed. “So tell this Leo that he doesn’t have to worry a little hair on his head.”

“Your lavender scented arrogance will be your downfall.” Jakob frowned. Someone declaring himself better than Corrin? Without even meeting either of them? Ha. He doubted this guy could transform into a dragon, or have such a presence and kindness Corrin did. “Corrin shows up everyone, but if you are not her enemy, I see no need to engage you in combat.”

Jakob’s shoulders sagged with relief. Not after Corrin then. “Well then, good.” A pause. “Did you need something? I’m most likely the wrong person to ask. Unless, of course, if it’s related to teas or coffee, as there is no art in the department of refreshments I am not the very best at. One cannot be of service to royalty without the finest touch.”

He loved his son, but it was nice to not have such competition around, sometimes.

mockiatto​:

aliferousumbra​:

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍

Get around? Ha! Who did the dastard think he was? Clearly human, what with his lack of animalistic features, with his lack of understanding corridor capacity. However was Naesala to just manage a way around the hallway-obstructing janitor when the corridor could hardly fit the both of that were they to stand at each others’ sides? 

The lilt of a silvery chuckle tumbled from his lips, and his lips curled in a snarl when he was poked like some creature to shoo off. Damn did it ruffle his feathers, and the fluffed in likeness to the sharp amusement that barked from the back of his throat. 

❝Move around?❞ A taunt. ❝Would you like to try to push past with the wingspan you don’t have?❞

He snatched at the broom, yanking down on it, a brow arching sharply at the aggressive gesture. In his talons, he jerked the broom away from his chest and swatted it from his space. 

❝Hello.❞

Someone noticed their missing belongings… not that he’d chirp up about it any time soon. That just wouldn’t benefit him in the slightest. So why would he do that?

“Aren’t there some mice you should be hunting?” Jakob didn’t back down, glaring at his newest adversary in a long line of people whose feathers he ruffled daily. He took his broom back with a snarl, stepping back and still brandishing it like a staff.

“You and your big wingspan is all that’s in this hallway besides me, and I wouldn’t be caught dead with sticky fingers. I don’t have to fight you for a pile of some kids’ trinkets, I just have to report you.”

He smirked, going back to his sweeping, although he was still on high alert. He brushed his dirt pile in Naesala’s direction, end of the broom hitting Naesala’s boots, and all of the debris he’d been gathering with it, coating his boots. “Well? Shoo, before I request those bird spikes get put up on the walls.”

Did someone like this guy transform like the beastskins from home, anyway?

Starter for @nagavoice

Valentians claim that saints well-versed in faith magic are able to traverse through even poisonous swamps and deadly terrain unaffected. Hoping to help train themselves and others to gain a similar immunity, a few zealous students have taken to covering hallway floors with all sorts of obstacles— pathways made of the hottest fires, routes made of the coldest ice, and lanes full of tiny toys with protruding parts! Kick off your shoes and try your luck! …or be the poor sap who has to clean it up. [Grants Faith +1]

Jakob didn’t want to clean this.

He so didn’t want to clean this. He’d do anything for Corrin’s sake but sometimes he needed to put a foot down. It seemed as though those who made it through were exempt from tidying up after the worst mess any student had made in his presence to date, so he’d give it a go.

Besides, if the rumors were true, his own resilience should help him as he ran though. Resistance training was necessary for any servant. He look his shoes off, frowning at being even the slightest out of uniform in public. He neatly folded his socks inside of them and sighed, staring down the hallway of magical mayhem.

He turned to his other companion, who seemed to be getting ready to go. “Ready?” Without waiting for an answer, he charged into the fray.

The first hazard was a long runway of slick ice. The moment his feet touched it he focused all of his energy into keeping himself magically unharmed, but it didn’t make the ice any less slippery. He fell with a yelp, sliding harmlessly down the ice on his butt, feeling like a penguin.

Starter for @forrenza

There’s been word of crumbling ruins, remnants of an old town and its gravesite becoming overgrown with strange greenery. Beautiful though its blooms may be, superstition and old maid’s tales have painted it as a beautifully haunting omen for a disaster to come. To that effect, the neighboring villages are too afraid to venture and clear it up, avoiding any and all routes that might cross it, and so have pleaded for aid from every passerby willing to help. As you enter the mouth of the ruins to dispel their needless fears, however, you find that these are no mere ruins. The vines close the entryway from which you came, and, looking ahead, you find that the ruins are, in fact, a huge maze. To make matters worse, the vines that now prevent you from leaving don’t seem to be content to stop there. All around you, the labyrinth shifts and changes; the walls move, the plants snake and snap. You and your companion must hack and cut your way through and find a way out, lest you intend to bury yourselves in a grave that never needs to beg for flowers. [Grants Sword +1]

Jakob was an expert at tending to anything that could possibly be tended to. He’d brought along all one might expect for the task of clipping away at overgrown weeds, but mere gardening shears were no match for what awaited them.

The ground beneath him and the cleanup crew rumbled and his eyes snapped to his top priority of concern: Forrest.

Lady Corrin’s child was of course of the utmost importance to him. No, he would endeavor to not play favorites with the younger members of the army from home (who was he kidding yes he would) but when it came to Corrin, Jakob’s own safety came second.

“FORREST!” He charged towards Forrest, knives already drawn in his hands. He threw one at a vine that threatened to trap his foot, but he hesitated to free Forrest the same way as a vine snaked around their waist. As much as he trusted his marksmanship, it was too risky. Instead, he drew a sword at his side, which he had brought only for the most stubborn of branches. This qualified.

He cut at some of the vines ensnaring Forrest and was too late to stop one from wrapping around his own wrist. Jakob hissed, tugging at it.

Starter for @vaida

Duke Maxifeld has received a letter detailing the planned heist of his family’s priceless heirloom - a weapon said to take on many an alternate form - during his upcoming annual ball. The Knights of Seiros have assigned you and your partner to attend undercover and find the wannabe thief before they act. The event is strictly for couples only. Better make your act convincing! [Grants Any Weapon +1] 

Jakob was ever the formal gentleman, dressed in a purple suit and his usual matching ribbon, the ensemble not far off from his usual uniform. He waited for his partner to appear, tapping his foot. He was a few minutes early to the carriage to the ball, but that just made his date late. He held a small corsage of purple roses to gift his partner for this bit of subterfuge, and he nearly dropped it when he saw who was coming.

This had to be some kind of joke assignment.

“You.”

He locked eyes with Vaida, scowling. She looked nice for the evening, but he unfortunately knew her too well. “I was under the impression I was being paired with a lady, not a shrew.”

The mission, he had to think about the mission. What would Corrin think if he couldn’t pull this off? Any poor performance by him was a reflection on his liege. He held out the violet corsage with a slight bow, aware it would seem mocking. “Nevertheless, the failure of this task shall not fall on my shoulders. I will do my utmost to retain the manner of only the most highly educated nobleman as we endeavor to take care of this task. Are you capable of the same effort?”

Half of him hoped the answer was no, but the other half went on autopilot to open the carriage door for her.

Starter for @princepsumbra

It was just his job.

And his job was his life.

Jakob stood in front of the bookshelf in Lady Corrin’s room, armed with rags and a feather duster. He’d been slacking, it seemed, if the slightest amount of visible dust was anything to go by. Lady Corrin’s chambers had to be kept perfectly clean, or else he might as well hand in his uniform.

The problem wasn’t just the dust, but the book order. Jakob scoffed, pulling every single book off the shelf and piling them on the floor, dusting the spines and tops of the tomes as he did so. Books were to be sorted by author, yes? And height... it was imperative they all be aesthetically pleasing to look at. He busied himself with putting the tomes back as he saw fit, turning when sharp footsteps approached from behind.

“Ah, Prince Leo. You ought to take better care of your things.” He waved the duster at Leo, feathers wobbling threateningly. “Lady Corrin, in a room with dust and this mess of a shelf? Hmph. What would you ever do without me?”

Continued from here

For such a prestigious and well known academy, this place sure was empty. He had heard wind of a grand mission most of the student body and staff had gone on, and while  he was a tad jealous to be missing all of the action, it would do him good to catch up on some beauty sleep before classes. There wasn’t a moment where he hadn’t been tossing and turning on that boat!

It was in the hallway that he passed by a very handsome stranger, looking him up and down and— oh. Was he also checking him out…?

The archer smirks, stopping in his tracks and clearing his throat. “Why, aren’t those beautiful— giving them to anyone in particular?” He leaned against the nearest wall, hoping that the other man would stop and at least chat for a bit. It was only fair, given how he had been looking at him.

Jakob turned, eyebrows raised. Few dared disturb him during his work— but this stranger was lucky in stumbling upon one of his favorite subjects.

“Yes. My Lady Corrin, in fact.” He looked at the vase in his hands, the sweetly perfumed purple flowers paling in comparison to Corrin’s grace, but they were nonetheless an appropriate offer. “Corrin is the best liege I could ever hope to serve. She did not request them, but I tend to her every need, anticipated and otherwise,” he declared proudly. “All others fail to compare to Corrin- yourself included of course, but it cannot be helped.”

Matter of fact, direct, what else could be desired from conversation?

He paused, frowning.

“I’ll have you know Lady Corrin is married, thank you very much. Don’t get any ideas regarding her. Leo would have your head.”

Jakob: Lady Corrin’s laundry should be dry in about an hour, I think her armor may be due for a cleaning— oh where I’d put her spare bedding…

Soren: Out of my way. What are you, a babysitter?

Jakob: Pardon? What business is it of child who can’t see over a bar counter?

Soren: Child?

Jakob: You don’t belong in the Knight’s quarters. Leave.

Soren: What I can’t get over is how you fuss over a grown adult is all.

Jakob: Your types are all over. No sense of duty or loyalty to anyone in your life.

Soren: Hmph. I’m my lord’s tactician and oversee affairs related to company inventory and accounts.

Jakob: That job is hardly personal. I personally make my lady’s favorite tea every day.

Soren: I am an adept mage and fight at Ike’s side. Without me, entire battles may not have been won. What do you do, the dishes?

Jakob: A mage? Pah. When I am at Lady Corrin’s side, I have no need to be protected; I protect her instead.

Soren: If you step outside I’ll show you who needs to be protected—

Jakob: You’ll regret it! I’m obviously much more valuable to my liege.

Soren: If all you can do is stand in front of her in armor or dust her crown, I doubt it. You’ll see my magic is not to be mocked.

Jakob: A shuriken will make quick work of your attitude.