Mothmort & Matthias

[mothmort]

A light breeze tumbled through the afternoon air, stirring the grass about in tizzy, periodical waves and rolling a slight shudder down the spine of the boy waiting eagerly upon the docks. He swung his legs out of boredom, seated saddle-style over the stone wall that oversaw the waters below. The to and fro of each wave lapsing over one another in lazy cycles was a sight he had been staring at for what seemed to be an eternity until the glow of sunset reflected up from the water's surface. God knew how long he had been waiting there. Nicholaus had stationed himself nearby the cobbled steps leading down to the port since noon that day, and he hadn't left his spot despite knowing that his brother likely wouldn't be arriving until the beginning of sundown. He was adamant in waiting, however, and not even the disapproving stare of his mother and father could sway his choice in leaving so early. Soon, the promise of brother arriving would be met and his nerves would be put to momentary ease, which seemed to be better than no ease whatsoever. Hardly speaking much over a word to his family the past few days, Nicholaus had either shut himself inside completely or wandered about on his own by the shores with hopes of clearing his mind entirely until his brother returned. 'Pouting', as his family called it, was something he wasn't necessarily proud of, but the complete resentment towards marriage was a sensation that he couldn't bring himself to shake, and his reaction towards the proclamation of a soon-to-be arrangement wasn't handled any better, of not worse than how he was dealing the predicament now.

Surely his brother would reason with their parents - he was certain of it. Or, at least, that's how it sounded when they wrote one another, after the younger's initial letter practically begging the eldest to return home. He knew it to be inconvenient for him, to drop everything he'd been doing just to be of consolation, but he also trusted that he wouldn't mind to terribly much if it meant meeting after so long. After all, Nicholaus found himself the most comforted in his presence out of either of his two other siblings, when he was alone and without judgment in the privacy of their letters - he could spill his inner-most feelings and trust the other to preserve them. It was a trait they'd grown up sharing with one another, and perhaps the reason they were so closely bonded.

Nicholaus broke himself from zoning his gaze upon the shimmer of sea, of the distinct line where water met sky. Now he laid upon his back, facing upward to watch the clouds this interval of time, however it wasn't long until he heard a single shout below that a boat was soon to dock. Nicholaus scrambled up to his feet and hurried down the steps, his hand dragging along the stone wall for balance until he'd reached the main level where his brother would step foot when it was time. Whether or not he was permitted below was not of importance to him, and the men were too busy preparing themselves for the incoming arrival.

 

[Matthias]

Oceans, oceans, and... oh right, oceans. Johannes was sick of it! He had been on this ship for almost two weeks, and by now was aching to go home. He wasn't sea sick, at least, which was nice, but fourteen days of water were enough to drive any mad. He didn't know how the sailors did it. If he was ever assigned to fight in the navy, he would probably kill hinself. No thank you, Johannes was content to stay in his country's army.

Still, it was nice that he was finally able to come home. Admittedly his parents were frigid assholes, but it had been almost two years since he left, and he missed his siblings. Come to think of it, his brother was probably seventeen or eighteen by now. It had been so long since he saw Nicholaus. Even before his deployment, their parents kept Johannes away from his brothr. One of their crazy religious views about corruption of innocence or something.

A few hours later, the ship pulled into harbour. Johannes was almost trembling with anticipation; he couldn't wait to get on to land. A nice meal and a visit to the bathhouse was his top priority. Surviving on hardtack and gruel made any man crave food, and it felt like the dust from the desert cities in which he served was probably glued to his skin by now.

As he pushed through the crowd, carrying a small suitcase in his left hand, Johannes spotted a familiar face. "Nicholaus!" he called above the crowd. "What are you doing here? I thought Mother and Father would have kept you at home?"