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Theon Mercier

The Arrogant Prince

0 · 422 views · located in The Three Realms

a character in “...by leave of the King”, as played by burning

Description

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xxxT H E O N x M E R C I E R
xh e d o n i s txxh ɛ d (ə) n ɪ s txxη δ ο ν ι σ τ ή ςx





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n i c k n a m e s x // x theo , the spare

a g e x // xtwenty seven

g e n d e r x // xmale

s e x u a l i t y x // xheterosexual

o r i g i n x // xilyos

s p e c i e s x // xhuman

c l a s s x // xwarrior , swashbuckler






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D E C O R U S


h e i g h t x // x6'1"

w e i g h t x // x203 lbs

h a i r x // xgolden blonde, kept short and choppy.

e y e s x // xdeep blue, with small flecks of forest green.

o d d i t i e s x // xapart from one large scar which reaches along the length of his right collarbone - obtained through a training session with his brother gone wrong, something he still holds a grudge against the man for - Theon prides himself on being blemish free.

a p p e a r a n c e x // xTheon takes mostly after his mother. Fair, with soft and elegant features, Theon still retains the boyish charm of his youth. Just as he is seemingly always second only to his brother in all things, it is Godric II who is seen as the most handsome prince in Ilyos. That is not to say Theon is not attractive, as anyone can see that he possesses the typical standard features of beauty, but rather, he does not possess the same rugged and kingly look of his elder brother. Theon always has, and always will, be known as the spare - the brother pushed aside due to being born just a year later. Theon will never be king while Godric II is still around, which is why he doesn't care to act as regally as the rest of his family. Clearly the black sheep, Theon may look like the King and Queen's son, but he certainly doesn't act like it. More often than not, you'll find Theon in a brothel or otherwise simply surrounding himself with women in a tavern, because of this, it's more than likely he'll only be partially clothed as Theon has found that his muscles help significantly when he is attempting to woo women, the only upside from being forced to train alongside his brother for years.






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F O R T I T U D O
xxxxxxxxxxxxx s t r e n g t h xx \ ˈ s t r e ŋ ( k ) t h \ x


s w o r d s m a n s h i p x // x Theon grew up training alongside is elder brother, constantly trying to be better than him and gain his father's approval. Due to this, Theon is rather adept when is comes to sword fighting, even if his way of going about it is rather flamboyant.

w e a l t h y x // x Clearly, the son of a king would have a bountiful supply money. Using this has gotten him far in life, and Theon isn't above bribing anyone for information. Theon loves money and believes that it can solve any problem he is presented with.

m a n i p u l a t i v e x // x Able to use his wealth and Princely 'charm' to his advantage, Theon is rather adept at manipulation people into doing his bidding.



I N F I R M I T A T E
xxxxxxxxxxxxx w e a k n e s s xx \ ˈ w ē k - n ə s \ x


l u s t f u l x // x More often than not, Theon is thinking with other parts of his anatomy, not his brain. He's blinded by a pretty face and is easily able to fall into the trap of a calculating woman.

j e a l o u s x // x Having been second best for too long, anytime someone is able to do something better than him, Theon gets unbelievably jealous - no matter what it is, even if it's something that Theon has no interest in. He has such a desire to be the best at everything.

s n o b x // x Theon was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and as such, has not had to deal with any of the hardships many of the Ilyos people have. He looks down his nose at people he deems 'lesser', such as everyone he is having to work on this mission alongside - including both prisoners and guards.



M E T U M
xxxxxxxxxxxxx f e a r xx \ ˈ f i r \ x


p o v e r t y x // x Money is everything to Theon. If his father were to cut him off, as he threatens to, Theon wouldn't see the point in living a life of poverty. This is his greatest fear, which is why he has joined the mission, not because he wants to, but because he has no choice.

l o s i n gxs t a t u s x // x Similar to losing his wealth, Theon would be nothing if he was not a royal.

a l w a y sxs e c o n dxb e s t x // x Theon craves the kind of love and affection that the public show Godric II, he's always been second best to his elder brother and there's nothing scarier to him (beside poverty) than never being able to step out from behind his brother's shadow.





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P E R S O N A L I T A T E
xxxxxxxxxxxxx arrogant xx snobbish xx fickle xx insecure x


Theon has always been a rather conflicted being. So arrogant and self-obsessed, yet filled with deep-seated insecurities. The latter is not something that Theon would ever reveal, however, and most who interact with him, know him to be an extremely cocky individual. There's no denying Theon thinks he's better than the average person, be it because of his upbringing, good looks or schooling, Theon is the type of person to believe that he is better than someone else just simply because he is him, and they are not. Born into Ilyos' Royal family, Theon has never had to work for anything in his life; this has resulted in the young man becoming lazy and dependant on his maids and servants. He is not the type of Prince who could survive living a normal, average life, unlike his brother.

Godric II's humility and compassion is spoken of throughout Ilyos, and he is adored. The future king, Theon will always be looked at as nothing more than the spare, and because of his, he has grown cold with resentment for his older brother. Knowing that he will never be the ruler has made Theon careless about his 'royal duties', why should be bother trying to be charming and princely if it'll only keep him in his brother's shadow. Having been the family's black sheep since childhood, Theon always had a tricky time playing nice and would never, ever share his toys.

Now, Theon's greatest joys are sex, alcohol and music. He's resigned himself to being the family's disappointment and has fallen into this self fulfilling prophecy. The local brothels are his second homes, renting out private rooms for days on end with a constant stream of women coming and going. It's highly likely that he has some bastard children running around the outskirts of Ilyos and even Xalterra, but never would he accepted them if any came to him.

Once Theon would spend hours training to become a better warrior than his brother, so hungry for his father's approval that he would do just about anything to beat Godric II down. However, just as his brother got his father's name, he also got all of his respect. This was many years ago, and now Theon doesn't even try, but the King has had enough of his insolence, demanding that he take up a position as part of the King's Guard, Theon must prove himself in this mission or risk having the few things he loves in this world, taken from him by his father. Godric II has already gotten everything Theon used to dream of, he wouldn't let his father steal these little joys away from him too.





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H I S T O R I A R U M


Theon had a near idyllic upbringing. The youngest son to King Godric and Queen Yvette of Ilyos, he has never had to work a day in his life, Before the boy knew what it meant to be the spare, he was exceptionally close to his elder brother, Godric II. It only became apparent to Theon that he would always be in his brother's shadow as he aged, becoming more and more bitter over time.

The worst it ever got what during their teenage years, on top of typical angst and struggling to come to terms with his own identity, Theon had to worry about being a prince all the while knowing that it would be to no avail, he was never going to be king so what was the point? The answer to that question was his father's respect. Something that alluded Theon all of his life and that he craved more than anything else.

During one of their training sessions, Theon took it a bit too far - they were only supposed to be practicing fighting, but Theon's pent up anger for his brother began to boil and eventually, he found himself genuinely trying to kill, or maybe just maim, Godric II. Unfortunately, just like in all other things, Godric II was a better warrior, and managed to beat Theon down so that he couldn't cause any serious damage, after realising his little brother wasn't playing when he cut into his arm, leaving a nasty scar.

Ever since that day, seeing the anger in his father's eyes and the disappointment on his mother's face, Theon stopped trying. Godric II, being the ever chivalrous prince he is, blamed himself for the discretion; he should have known that fighting him would be too challenging and frustrating for his little brother. Something, which obviously, only made Theon's hatred for him grow stronger. He was not even allowed to be the one in trouble, Godric II must always steal his limelight.

From the day of his eighteenth birthday and onwards, Theon is rarely seen at the castle unless it is to get money, steal some of the King's favourite and prized wine, or crash out after a week spent solely in the brothel.

This was how Theon lived his life until his father had enough. Giving Theon an ultimatum - join the King's Guard and get his act together, accompanying some of his most renowned guards on this mission to save his own kingdom which was in danger, or leave Ilyos, no longer part of their royal family, Theon would be kicked out of his home, stripped of his title and given no money. Obviously, Theon could only take the former, his biggest fears have, and always will be, losing the minimal power that he has.





h e x c o d e x // x #34375C x // x f a c e c l a i m x // x bradley james x // x c r e a t o r x // x burning x // x c s x // x Scar.-

So begins...

Theon Mercier's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bayard Volström Character Portrait: Phaedra Raephen Character Portrait: Varric Dalgaard Character Portrait: Theon Mercier Character Portrait: Avila Baravond Character Portrait: Ottaric Drengsorn Character Portrait: Erik Measborn Character Portrait: Aedan Tylarro Character Portrait: Asa Ilriane Character Portrait: Maedoc Thibault Character Portrait: Athelia Nelmos Character Portrait: Ephra Rouden Character Portrait: Helena Bigge Character Portrait: Thorund Kilhig Character Portrait: Erynion Reyyarus Character Portrait: Thadhrion Gaethdal
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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#, as written by mjolnir
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bayard volström
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bearx|xhumanx|xknight warrior
#8BA3A6x|xattire

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varric dalgaard
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ravagerx|xdwarfx|xbandit rogue
#960F16x|xattire

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phaedra raephen
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thalinx|xelfx|xassassin rogue
#B1AECBx|xattire


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Every day had seemed like the last for months in Ilyos. Not that Bayard minded, he liked the lull in action. It wasn't often that he had to be on his toes. Most of the Ilyosie never caused much trouble aside from the occasional drunken brawl. And what people who decided to break laws beyond that would spend the remainder of their now shortened lives in the dungeons. Of course, there was always something to do for the knights of the King's Guard, especially the Captain. But that day it seemed all that was needed was patrolling, if you could even call it that. It wasn't often that patrolling guards had to do much of anything, other than escort drunks home or help find children that stay out later than their curfew.

Bayard strolled slowly along the west bridge, making his way away from the keep. He didn't particularly have a destination in mind, but his feet always seemed to guide him to the same place. The docks. His left hand rested on the hilt of his sword, as the heels of his boots clicked quietly upon the stone walk way. He smiled and nodded his head toward people who passed by. With his attention focused on the gently rolling tide that lapped against the docked boats, Bayard didn't realize the sound of tiny feet pitter pattering up to him.

"Bay!" The small voiced sang from behind him as her little hand tugged on the hem of his shirt.

He couldn't fight the smile that crept across his face. Bayard quickly reached down, and scooped up the young Penelope. He spun her around playfully, before raising her up so that she could sit on his shoulders. The bubbly blonde giggled the entire time as Bayard held her hands and spun around with her on his shoulders. "And how is my favorite girl today?"

Penelope laughed happily, holding tight to his thumbs. "I brought you something!"

"Oh you did?" Bayard moved his hands to gently hold her feet as she wiggled on his shoulders. "Careful," he laughed, making sure she didn't fall as she squirmed.

After a moment or two of her moving around, Penelope's small hand shoved something into his face. "I made this for you."

"Wow," he said leaning his head back to try and see the gift. Her little arms held it so close to his face that it tickled his nose almost making him sneeze.

"It's a necklace!"

"I knew that," Bayard fibbed, just then finally seeing the small blue flowers tied together by their stems.

"It'll match your feather," she said as she tried her best to put the necklace over his head. Bayard raised his right hand and helped her get it over his head without breaking it. Penelope then grabbed his hair and pulled it up and over the chain of flowers. "Do you still have your feather I gave you?" she asked as her fingers started digging through his brunette locks.

"Of course I do," he said. Bayard reached his left hand behind his ear, after moment or two he found a deep blue feather that was fastened to a braid in his hair. Penelope instantly giggled when she saw it, running her finger tips over it.

Penelope sighed contently as she rested her cheek upon the top of his head. Her right hand continuously brushing the blue feather. Bayard adjusted her on his shoulders slightly before continuing walking toward the docks. "Hey, Bay?"

"Yeah?"

"The next time you go out on one of your adventures... Can you bring me back a feather too?" She leaned forward, looking down at Bayard. Her little hands grabbed the side of his face, tilting his head back so he could look up at her. Penelope's plump little face framed by her blonde curls.

Bayard descended the wooden stairs that lead down to the King's naval fleet. "Purple!" she chirped. Before he could respond, Penelope bounced on his shoulders with excitement seeing where they were. "What are we doing here?" she teased, as if she didn't already know.

"Visiting a friend," Bayard answered as they neared the ramp that lead to the ship. If he didn't hurry and get Penelope off his shoulders, she probably would have jumped off. He lowered her down to the ground and the second her feet touched the dock, she took off in a sprint. "Careful!" he called after her as she ran up the ramp to the ship.

"Aedan!" Penelope called out when she reached the deck of the ship.

Bayard followed her up the ramp slowly, not nearly in the rush that she was. He raised his hand, knocking his knuckles against the ships railing. "Knock, knock. Permission to come aboard?" He called out toward Aedan, even though he couldn't see him. Penelope continued to run around and search for Aedan furiously.

Just before he stepped onboard, he heard someone clear their throat from behind him. Bayard pivoted on his heels, turning around to face the culprit. Standing below him on the dock was King Guardsman Percy. "Sir Volström," he greeted with a bow. No matter how much he heard it, Bayard hasn't gotten used to the titles and treatments that came with being Captain of the guard.

"Percy," he replied. Bayard glanced over his shoulder toward Penelope, making sure she was in sight and ok. Then he descended down the ramp until he was face to face with the man. "Is there something you need?"

"The King requests your presence immediately, Sir. Along with Captain Tylarro."

Bayard sighed. Of course, a quiet day couldn't last forever. It never did. He glanced back over his shoulder toward the ship. "Aedan... Penelope," he called out to them, before turning his attention back to Percy. "What's wrong? Is the King ok?"

"Yes, of course, Sir. Sorry, I did not mean to worry you. Just following orders." Percy held out a rolled up piece of parchment that held his orders along with the seal of the king. "I've just been told he requests both of you, presently. He has sent messengers to gather you, Captain Tylarro, Ottaric Drengsorn, Athelia Nelmos and Helena Bigge. And that you shall head to the dungeons to meet him, immediately. I apologize, I do not know anything. Just that it is urgent."

Bayard raised his right hand, scratching at his beard. After a moment, he nodded his head toward Percy. He then turned toward Penelope who came running down the ramp to him. Bay squatted down so that he was more at her level. "Hey," he smiled, taking her hands in his. "I have to go. Percy here is going to take you back to the home. I'm sure Madame Charlotte is worried sick about you." He gave her a slight smile, playfully tugging at her hands.

Penelope frowned. "You always have to go."

"I know," he sighed softly, pulling her in for a hug. "How about this... When I'm done, I'll stop by and tell you all another story about Aedan and my's adventures. Deal?"

She quickly perked up, a smile growing upon her face. "Ok!"

Bayard stood up and walked Penelope over toward Percy. He took her little hand and held it out to the guard. "Straight to the orphanage, Percy. And you," he pointed down at the little blonde. "Don't hurt Percy too much. He's fragile." He laughed and patted the guard on the shoulder as he walked away with Penelope in tow.

Once alone, Bay looked over at Aedan, nodding his head in the direction of the keep. "We've been summoned," he said with a roll of his eyes. Although meeting in the dungeons was new territory, he didn't expect anything of it. It seemed anymore that every time they were summoned it was because of something irrelevant. But alas, they had to answer the call.

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The dungeon was dark, cold and wet. It didn't matter the time of year, or the weather outside, it never changed. The waterfall that surrounded the cells kept everything in the perpetual state of uncomfortable dampness. Instead of eery silences, the sounds of dripping and rushing water echoed throughout the handful of cells. Five cells total made up the small dungeon. It comes as no surprise in regards to the reputation of how Ilyos deals with their prisoners.

It could be argued that Phaedra was put in the worst cell of the dungeon, if there was such a cell. It seemed the waterfall tended to slip into this cell more than the others and she didn't know any better, it looked to be open to the heart of the falls. She sat with her back against the left wall, her legs stretched out before her and her ankles crossed. With a sigh, she let her head slowly lean back until it was resting upon the wall.

Her gaze did not falter from Thadhrion who shared the cell with Phaedra, sitting across from her. She didn't let a single emotion wash over her face. Instead, her jaw was clenched and eyes squinted in deep thought... Or potentially trying to smite him with her mind. But smiting didn't seem like a realistic option. As she stared, she couldn't help her foot tapping. Her nostrils seemed to flare with every breath like she was just waiting... Waiting for her top to blow or the words to finally form sentences in her mind.

A large drop of water fell from the ceiling, landing right in the center of her forehead. Phaedra growled out of frustration, wiping the water from her head. She pushed off the ground, quickly moving to her feet. Before she knew it, she was pacing around the small cell, walking back and forth from one side to the other. It seemed as though the more she walked, the more claustrophobic she got in the cell. Her hands quickly tore her scarf from out her neck and threw it at Thadhrion.

"Do you have any idea what you've done!?" And there it was. Phaedra's anger finally boiled over and formed words. Words that lashed out from her lips like a whip toward the elf in her cell. "If you would have just listened to me, we wouldn't be here!" She stormed over to him, snatching her scarf up from his lap. "I told you not to follow me. To leave, and forget about me. I am not who you think I am." She stared down at him. "Phaedra is dead," she hissed at him under her breath so only he could hear.

Phaedra walked over to the iron bars that faced out to the other cells. She raised her hands to grab them until her knuckles went white. Her head fell forward until her forehead was pressed to the cold metal. "You ruined... Everything. Mercier would be dead if you would have just let me be." She sighed, tapping her finger tips against the bars.

To say that Phaedra was livid was an understatement. Not once had a target slipped through her fingers. There was a reason she had the reputation she did. But then Thadhrion just had to show. He belonged in Avalon, far far away from her. If he would have just let her be, she'd have the King's head and be on her way to redemption. Now she'd most likely see the end of her days from inside that miserable damp cell. To say she wasn't tempted to jump out the hole and let the waterfall take her would be a lie. But she didn't. She simply stood there, grasping the iron bars like they were the king's throat, refusing to turn around and face Thadhrion.

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Unlike many of the prisoners, Varric didn't see his time in the dungeons as the end of everything. He has spent more than his fair share of time in cells throughout Xalterra and this was no different. There was just a lack of a wall and some water. No big deal. He didn't even mind it, aside from being wet all the time. His fingers had been prunes for days by that point. It was annoying but not intolerable. Varric spent most of his time trying to run through different escape ideas. Most seemed fairly improbable or unsuccessful if attempted, but that didn't mean if he were given the opportunity that he wouldn't try.

He laid with his back on the ground, far beyond caring about what parts of him were in puddles or being dripped on. Varric didn't even seem to mind the rats that scurried in every once in awhile. His short legs were stretched up along the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. On more than one occasion he found himself eaves dropping on the other prisoners in the different cells. He was particularly interested in Thalin. In all the years that he had known the woman, not once had she been captured or failed to kill a target. Interesting that when it came to this one particular kill... A King no less, that she failed. Varric couldn't help but wonder if it was a case of morals, a miss calculation, if she was outnumbered by guards... But as he heard her yelling from across the dungeons, it sounded more like whomever the frosty headed elf was played some part in her failure.

Varric sighed, swinging his legs from the wall and shifting so that he was sitting up. He ran his hands back through his hair and scratched his scalp as he sized up his cell partner. He couldn't fight the urge to smile at the fiery headed elf. Asa was definitely attractive. And the fact that she was a pirate elf just added to her appeal. After all, there was a reason he sought her out on more than one occasion when he needed someone with a ship. There was always something about a strong woman that got him going, and the fact that she seemed thoroughly uninterested only made it more fun.

"So, Red." Varric rested his head back against the wall. He entangled his fingers and then rested his hands in his lap. "What got you down here?" He cocked his head to the side slightly. "Because if it was my fault, I'd say I owe you a drink when we get out of here." Varric flashed her a sly smirk. "And if it was her fault, he continued, pointing at Thalin who stood in the cell across from them, staring right at him. "I guess that means I'd have to kill her."

From across the dungeon, Thalin laughed a could and emotionless laugh. "Oh, please,"she said with a roll of her eyes. "Could you even reach me?" She slid her arms through the gaps in the iron bars, letting her arms hang as she stared at him. She raised a threatening brow toward him.

"Is that a Dwarf joke?" Varric faked being offended, pressing his hand to his chest in shock. "I think that was a Dwarf joke," he said toward Asa.