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Alexander Burton

"Hero or traitor. The difference is, really, just about timing."

0 · 327 views · located in Seabel

a character in “Forged of Blood and Steel.”, as played by Boomstick

Description

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I decided long ago never to walk in anyone's shadow; if I fail, or if I succeed at least I did as I believe. - Whitney Houston





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Role: Eldest Son of House Burton

Gender: Male

Age: 31

Nicknames: Al, a name only his mother used, after she died; his sister started calling him it. Alex by the few people who are close to him; however, his father has always called him Alexander. Everyone else refers to him as Lord Burton.




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Height: 6'

Weight: 175lbs

Build: Lean, almost lanky.

Hair Colour: Dark brown, often mistaken for being black.

Eye Colour: Blue-Green

Scars?: A six inch long, and one inch deep, scar that runs down his left thigh given to him by his little brother in an accident as they spared.

Brief written description: Alexander is a handsome man in a dark, almost, brooding manner. His nose has a flat bridge and the tip of his nose points down drawing attention to his lips which are very thin and almost always drawn in a thin line that makes it look as if he never smiles, and it is indeed rare for Alexander to smile. His teeth are in good shape considering the times; he does have a small gap between his one of his front teeth and left canine, as well as a missing tooth in the back of his mouth from when he stumbled as a child and smashed his chin against a stone step. When he does smile, Alexander's face tends to brighten making him, almost, breathtaking. His eyes are a blue-green and on another face they would be bright and beautiful, but above them are a large brow and thick dark eyebrows give him a 'dark' overshadow. Alexander does tend to have stubble growing across his chin as he does not enjoy shaving and does it only when Rose says something about it. Alexander does brush his hair every morning and night, keeping his long shoulder length hair tucked back over his ears and out of his way. His hair sometimes escapes and becomes mangled giving him an almost savage appearance. The bags under his eyes suggest that he has not gotten a good nights rest in a long time.

Clothing preference: Alexander tends to wear dark browns and blacks as it reinforces his brooding appearance and draws out his better features. Around the castle and inside the kings court, Alexander wears dyed cotton clothing as well as a sword buckled on his hip; he never expects to use it, but it is something that would be expected for a Burton to carry around with him. During his travels, he wears dyed, cured leather.





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Skills:
- Mathematics, a master of economics
- Engineering, has studied the finer points of both masonary and military constructs.
- Quick Wits
- Mind for Tactics
- Politics: It is joked that he has a 'silver tongue'.
- Self-Control: He has great control over his emotions as well as a mean 'poker' face.
- Swordsmanship: Although he is not near as gifted in it as his father, brother, and many of the other more 'physically' inclined nobles.
- Literature
- 'Information gathering' He has a rather expansive spy network


Quirks:
- Plays with a lock of his hair when in deep thought or in pain.
- Paces when angry.
- Cannot 'sip' a drink. He tends to down it when he has it, and so tends to avoid drinking spirits unless in private.
- Rarely 'laughs' even if he finds what someone has said to be hilarious; he tends to chuckle or smile instead.


Likes:
- His wife, sister, and son.
- Reading/writing
- A clever joke
- Dancing
- Playing the Game (Politics)
- Women who are 'delicate'. He prefers a woman who would ride a horse bareback to a woman more interested in fashion.
- Birds
- Rain
- Children
- Forging his own destiny


Dislikes:
- Being compared to either his father or brother
- Hotheaded people. Alexander can't stand when people act before they think.
- His families treatment of his wife.
- Dogs
- Losing
- Being a Burton
- Anyone who flirts with his wife
- Onions
- Summer, he is not fond of heat


Fears:
- Being caught as a spy as it would mean death for him, and possibly for his wife and son.
- Having to kill his brother or father. They may have their differences, but he doesn't wish to see them die.
- Being betrayed by the Rayleigh family.
- Someone stealing Rose away from him.


Written description: Unlike his siblings, Alexander took after his mother in that instead of being hotheaded; he was level headed. He was always one to stop and ponder everything, even as a boy. Despite this self-control, Alexander is an extremely jealous and protective man and nothing would stop him from killing anyone, be they king or peasant, who tried to take his wife or son from him. So protective, he has not even told Rose about his actions of spying for the Rayleigh's as he wishes to keep her out of it should it turn fatal, but he is not sure how long he can continue to keep it quiet as she has always been perceptive.

Luckily, Alexander has always been a master at court and so is a master of lying and reading others. Ever since his father introduced him; he has earned a reputation for being quick witted and intelligent able to make logical decisions and suggestions that many of the others would not think of as they are either too stuck up on honor or lost in their own short-sighted views on the world, but this view comes from his distaste in his own family and personal shortcomings in the eyes of what a 'Burton' is supposed to be. Alexander is not the sharing type and tends to bottle up all his pain; he is far to prideful to ever let anyone see him as weak, and for others who he cares for more then his pride; he loves them far too much to ever force them to have to bear even a shred of his burdens.

Its safe to say Alexander has some... issues with both his father and brother. For the longest time, he attempted to be what his father wanted: A proud and honorable warrior as all Burton men were supposed to be, and he spent years trying to gain his fathers approval until his brother was born. His younger brother is so much like his father that it makes Alexander sick, but it sickens him more knowing that his brother is superior to him in both swordplay and in fathers heart. It is the main reason why Alexander is helping the Rayleigh's, he will forge his own house and finally step from out from his fathers shadow as well as make Rose happy by returning her to the South.






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Relationship Status: Married

Family:

Wife: Lady Rosylin Burton
Father: Duke Nicholas Burton
Brother: Sir _____
Sister: Lady _____






Secret Word: This is War

So begins...

Alexander Burton's Story

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Lady Rosylin hadn't slept well, due to this upcoming peace meeting. She expected many who would be attending today would have the same dark circles under their eyes. Much was riding on this. If she was truthfully honest with herself, she wasn't exactly sure what outcome she preferred. On one hand, peace was wonderful, and it would mean hundreds of lives saved. However, peace meant she was stuck. She would have to return to the North, a place she truly despised. While her husband and son were the one bright light in her life up there, everything else was dull. Alexander's family wasn't fond of her, putting it lightly, and the climate made her dream of the South. She longed for it with all of her being. If war was the outcome, and the Rayleigh's were successful, it could mean the end of her suffering. Her cousins, the Stanfords, knew Rosylin's heart was still in the South. They wouldn't treat her like a traitor - they couldn't. She was family. And if it came to that, she would openly support the South. She had a sneaking suspicion Alexander would too.

Their marriage had not started out so perfectly. It was a marriage of convenience, and politics. A merging of North and South. When she had first met Alexander, disappointment was her instant reaction. He was nothing like the knight in shining armor that she had dreamed of. He was slightly older than she preferred. He seemed cold, like the North. He never smiled or showed any of his feelings, seeming to bottle everything up. Rosylin wasn't the type of girl to just let others decide her fate, but even after countless hours of arguing, her parents wouldn't budge. 'It would be good for their people,' her father said, knowing this marriage could seal resources for their castle, something which wasn't coming so easily. 'He'll be a great husband and protector,' her mother said. Yet Rosylin had just argued that she didn't need protecting, she was more than capable. She could shoot an apple off a peasants head from yards away, a bird in mid flight, and hit the center of a target every time.

The marriage had happened when she was only eighteen, against her protests, and it had been consummated that night. There was no stopping it. The first year was rough for her. She denied him at every point she could, and gave him as much trouble as she could. Yet he wouldn't get angry, or yell at her. He would just simply do nothing. It would aggravate her to no end. She wanted to see something from him, any sign that there was some depth to him. Some sign of passion. A sign that he actually wanted her. But it didn't work. Eventually, she gave up trying with him. Their marriage would not be what she had dreamed. But she surely didn't lose her fire. One night at dinner, everything changed. He asked her about her life in the South, and she talked for hours straight of its beauty, and her love for it. She didn't know how exactly, but things began to improve for them. She would practice with her bow in the yard, and find that he had come out to watch her. They would talk more at dinner, and before bed. She learned of his need to prove his worthiness to both his father and brother. The reason he was so quiet because he was level-headed, not because he didn't have any depth or passion.

Love grew in their marriage, and their passion increased. He showed a side of himself that no one else had seen. In their third year of marriage, Rosylin became pregnant with their first child, and to her delight it was a son. Alexander would have an heir. Her pregnancy brought even more joy and love into their marriage. As she thought about it that morning, her marriage had truly saved her. If she hadn't had Alexander, she wouldn't have been able to endure the North. She turned from her window to see Alexander still slumbering peacefully. He had become her knight in shining armor, and she loved him more than she ever thought possible. The sun was getting higher in the sky, and she knew that meant it was time to rise and get prepared for the day. They would have to leave soon, for their last trek to Beaumont Castle. She turned from the window and crawled back under the sheets next to Alexander. "Alex, my dear, the sun is rising. It's time to wake." She spoke to him softly, whispering in his year. She ran her fingers through his long, dark locks, pushing them away from his face. She gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, then reluctantly left the bed once more. She wished more than anything that she could just lay with him all day, and forget this meeting.

She walked towards the door, and cracked it open slightly. "Alysa, are you near?" she called into the hall. Instantly, her handmaid appeared, looking as if she hadn't gotten much sleep either. "Yes, milady?" Alysa responded quietly. "I suppose it is time for me to dress for the day. My lavender dress, if you would be so kind. And the matching cloak as well, it's still too cold for my liking." Alysa bowed and said, "Right away milady." She instantly took off to the next room, where her quarters were and most of Rosylin's things were being kept. After she was dressed, she would wake her son as well, longing to hold him in her arms. She turned back to Alex to see him waking.


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Alexander knew it was a nightmare as it had been a reoccurring one; he knew this, but he still could not convince himself of that fact. Rain fell from the dark skies to a chorus of thunder. The world was so dark, yet with each roar of thunder a flash of lightning would illuminate the great plains that stretched before him and of the corpses. Thousands of bodies stretched to the horizon their blood staining the grass red as it ran in small rivers. Men, women, and even children, but worse of all was the crows. Swarming over the land like a plague pecking and tearing at the dead only stopping to squawk to comment on its feast. Every time; he would wander the field spotting familiar faces among the dead such as Charles Rayliegh laying on his side as his intestines were spread out on the ground, his wife, Lady Harriet Rayleigh holding him as she screamed rocking the body as if to will him to stand up again. When Alexander drew near, she would always turn to him and whisper that it was his fault. All of it, but they weren't the only ones he saw in his nightmare: William Stanford, Prince Lancaster, and even Francis Rayliegh all fallen; the Prince was one that stuck in his mind. He lay impaled by a blade as a crow perched upon the handle squawking at Alexander as if to call him forward and join him in his soon to come feast.

After what seemed like a century of walking, Alexander would come upon a great mound of nude bodies piled onto each other and at the top were King Oli and Alexander's father, Nicholas Burton. His father was sewn and stitched into a grotesque throne as King Oli sat on top of him, a hole in the place where his heart had been ripped out. A crown of thorns upon his brow. The crows would circle the mound squawking, "All hail King Oli, All hail the Corpse King." Then at once, the world would go silent, as if the very life of the world had washed away. From the mound of corpses climbed out his little brother, fully armored and sword drawn. Taking up his blade, Alexander would rush forward and they would clash, at each cross of blades his brother would shout at him, "Are you happy now, brother?"

"Alex, my dear, the sun is rising. It's time to wake." Alexander's eyes slowly slid open and upon seeing who, all his night terrors were forgotten. The rays of sunlight peeking through the window, the light passing through the strands of platinum blond hair that had dislodged during the night formed a halo around her face, and for a moment; Alexander thought he was seeing an angel, but when her lips brushed against his; he knew it was something far more precious. "Rose." He whispered still lost in his waking haze.

It took a few more seconds for his mind to clear, but when it did; Alexander did notice that the morning angel had disappeared, free for the time being, Alexander stretched his arms out above him trying to stretch without getting up yet. He had not been sleeping well, and it wasn't just because of the Peace Summit. He had not had a good night sleep since he had started in dealing information. Alexander had been collecting information from 'associates' for over a decade, but this was different. He had been sharing tidbits with Lord Francis Rayliegh. Pushing himself up; Alexander leaned his back against the oak headboard letting the blankets fall from his chest and down to his hips. Forcing himself to sit up had reward him in an amazing view. Rose. He watched as she dressed, enjoying the way the light caressed her. Alexander had to draw his knees to his chest to hide his growing arousal that didn't go away even as her body was slowly covered, piece by piece, by those pesky clothes. If it wasn't for the Peace Summit; she wouldn't be leaving this room for another few hours, but there was work that needed to be done if he was going to ensure their future. He ran his hand through his unruly black hair, "Morning."



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((Dreaded Double post.))

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Rosylin happily watched her waking husband as the last effects of his sleep faded away. He sat up in bed, the sheets falling down to his hips, exposing his chest. She drank in the sight, wishing she could just walk over and run her fingers down his chest, feeling the strong muscle underneath. For a moment, she imagined the two of them spending the entire day in bed together. Even though it had been five years since their wedding day, and she had been through the birth of one child, she still enjoyed making love with her husband. He still had the ability to make her feel like a blushing bride. She felt warmth rising to her cheeks at her thoughts, but Alysa broke her trance as she entered the room with her garments. "Excuse me, milady, but I have your garments ready for you." Rose turned away from her husband to her handmaid, and gave her a warm smile. "Of course, please bring them in and assist me."

Alysa hurried in, towing the dress behind her. It truly was a beautiful dress, yet a little lighter than the weather called for. She hardly cared. It had become her custom to wear Southern clothes in the North. Sometimes she was freezing, but she had learned to accessorize with cloaks and shawls to keep her warm. Many Northerners looked down on her for this, and again she could hardly care what they thought of her. She openly defied the customs of the North when she could, and clothing was something she would not compromise on. She slipped off her thin white nightgown, leaving her skin completely exposed. She briefly looked over at Alex, noticing her husband's eyes were looking her up and down. It made her feel wonderful to know he was so completely in love her. So much so that even a man looking at her the wrong way made him insanely jealous. The thought made her want to laugh, because she was so madly in love with him. He had nothing to worry about.

Alysa lifted the dress up high, and Rose crouched down so it could be brought over her head. Alysa began to quickly lace up the back of the dress, tightening it as much as possible to accent Rose's curves. The dress left her shoulders and the top of her back completely bare, with only a thin strip of fabric reaching up to tie around the back of her neck. It was way more skin than the ladies of the North tended to show, mostly because of the weather. But that was the purpose of the cloak. She left that off for now, since they were still inside. It was still chilly, but she didn't feel the need to cover up so much in front of her husband. She figured he wouldn't like that too much.

"Alysa, would you mind going and waking Tristan? And could you bring him to us? I think we both wish to see him." Alysa bowed and hurried out of the room once more. As Rose turned to look at Alex, she noticed he finally seemed to fully be awake. "Morning," he said to her, ruffling his already tousled hair. She giggled and walked over to the bed, leaning down to plant a kiss on his lips once more. "Good morning," she responded to him, gently placing her hand on his chest. She felt his strong heartbeat underneath her fingers, the heart that completely belonged to her. "I figured once we had Tristan, we could all grab a spot of breakfast before we have to head to Beaumont." She sighed, the thought of the peace meeting coming back to her. She was still unsure which outcome she would prefer. If Alexander's presence weren't required by his father, she probably would still be at home with him. The thought of having to be in the company of all the other females talking about clothes and petty gossip made her want to throw up. She would rather be in a war council with all the men. Even though this wasn't exactly a war council, and all that would be discussed was politics, it sounded much more interesting than spending days with the other women. Perhaps she would just skip out and practice with her bow all day, or ride her lovely horse Silver. Anything but gossip.

"I'm not exactly sure how I want this peace meeting to go. It it treasonous to say so?" she asked, looking straight into her husband's eyes. She was searching for any kind of answer in his eyes. He had been oddly discreet with his feelings about the peace meeting, and she was dying to know how he felt about it. "Can we just skip the meeting and run away to the South? We'll live in the warmth away from everyone. Just you, me, and Tristan." She smiled at the thought. Alexander was used to her talking about how much she loved the South. She hoped one day he would go against his father's wishes and just leave the North. Her thoughts were broken by the door opening once more. Alysa walked in with Tristan, and Rose couldn't help but smile. Her son was getting so big. Alysa brought him right over to Rose, who was still on the edge of the bed, and handed him over. Rose cuddled him to her chest, running her hand through his dark hair. He had inherited that from his father, obviously. "My precious boy," she whispered in his ear. She looked to Alex with a warm smile, knowing he was just as proud of their son as she was.

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Despite his somber reputation, Alexander let a small smile slip across his lips. He never truly understood why he found her smiles to be so infectious, her giggles endearing, or even her pouts arousing, but bringing emotions to surface seemed to be a talent of hers. One he was eternally grateful for as he knew that no matter how strong the man, eventually they break. What defined a strong man was not if he can break, but how far he can go until he takes that last pitiful gasp of air. A soft kiss broke his thoughts, and a small cool hand against his chest sent a shiver down his spine, "Good morning".

Alexander rubbed her forearm with his fingertips enjoying the soft pale skin. It always reminded him of a snide joke an elderly noblewoman, some prude for a minor house, told to her equally ancient friend, "If that poor dear lays in the snow; they may never find her!" Indeed, it must have seemed a joke; the petite, pale beauty with silvery hair from the south being married to the large, dark and dour man from the north. A poet could have recited it as a young maiden about to be sacrificed to a terrifying dragon, and the poet would not have been far off the mark. To this day, Alexander can still picture that look of utter disappointment when she saw him. His little brother was more of the man she seemed to envision, but being forced to marry was never an easy thing no matter how handsome, or somber, the groom.

"I figured once we had Tristan, we could all grab a spot of breakfast before we have to head to Beaumont." Alexander did not miss that sigh at the end, but what else could he do? He was an adviser to the king, and technically, the heir to House Burton. His brother may be able to get out of attending at the start, but Alexander's hands were tied, not only that; he had to be there to ensure things went according to plan. Then again, if he was destined to be stuck into a room full of giggling noblewomen; he would be sighing too, but Alexander also knew that the wives commonly knew more then their husbands. A drunken noblewoman spills many secrets. "Try not to sound too disappointed." Alexander said, "But that would be fine. Give us a chance to be together before I have to play politics." While he actually enjoyed playing the Game; he knew she didn't which is part of the reason he loved her. Alexander needed a break from the cloak and dagger, and she provided that sanctuary.

"I'm not exactly sure how I want this peace meeting to go. It it treasonous to say so?" Alexander raised an eyebrow thinking it over himself. He knew how he wanted it to go, but he understood her turmoil. His family had little love for her, and the people she could talk to in the North was a very short list, but it was still his family. "Can we just skip the meeting and run away to the South? We'll live in the warmth away from everyone. Just you, me, and Tristan."

"Treasonous? Depends on who is listening." Alexander said letting his fingertips brush the hem of her dress. He would let her ponder on that one, but he offered her a small smile, "I can't. I have too much work to do." There was always more to do.

Alexander turned his attention to the door when he heard it creak open, and the handmaiden ushering in the small boy. He had deep blue eyes taking those from his mother, and he was lucky enough to take most of his features from his beautiful mother. His dark mane of hair the most noticeable thing he got from him, and he was sure Tristan would appreciate that in the future. To tell the truth, he had hoped for a daughter when Rose was pregnant. One that looked just like her mother, but when his son was born, on that day Alexander learned what love really meant not just for his son but for Rose as well.

Watching her crush the small boy to her chest, Alexander marveled at just how different she was from his own mother. Life in
the Yorkpoint Isles was harsh and so the people had to be harsher. Honestly, Alexander was not sure he could remember if his mother had ever held him. She loved him, he knew that, but showing love was not common in the Isles which is probably where a lot of their reputation came from, but he couldn't sit in bed all day. Slipping out Alexander used the chance of having his son distracted to enter the closet in the corner of the room without being seen.

Alexander didn't need to examine his clothing like most lords or his wife as he tended to wear the same thing everyday, and as they would be traveling, it was a simple choice. A plain black cotton shirt underneath a leather jerkin. His pants were the same dull black color as his shirt as he dressed for both comfort and effect. He took his time with his boots ensuring the laces were even and straight before sitting in front of the mirror to comb down his hair. Finally satisfied with his appearance, Alexander left the large closet and returned to the room, "Breakfast was it?" Alexander asked.