-Jayne-

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The morning rang with the clashing of swords.

Whooping and hollering were carried by the cool breeze, up and up to a sun-kissed balcony of white stone where Lady Jayne Shepard stood. The young woman leaned over the vine-covered edge of the balustrade and watched the figures down in the yard, smiling as they traded japes and jeers with every blow. Even as high up as she was, Jayne could hear her brothers and their company as clear as if she was training with them.

"Had enough? I would understand if you wished to return to your knitting. Dull blades are just as painful as sharp ones, you know." Carver Shepard taunted with a cheeky smile, ducking from a swing of his older brother's practice sword.

The red-haired boy laughed at his own joke, making a strike of his own, lunging for Edric's gut. The older sibling blocked, sending the incoming sword to the side with a quick swing from his own. Disarmed, Carver could do nothing to stop Edric from smacking him on the chest with the flat side of the blade.

"You would know that from experience, obviously." Edric said, blunt as he was. The others in the yard, both boys and men, had a laugh at that with even the serious Edric cracking a grin of his own.

Jayne could not tell from the balcony, but she was sure Carver's face had gone red. The Lady of the Stonehold felt sympathy for her youngest brother, and a spark of anger ignite towards her twin. Carver was a boy of eighteen, not scrawny but still quite thin, while Edric was a tall, muscular man of twenty-five years, the same as Jayne. Seeing her baby brother getting humiliated was not something she enjoyed.

Oh, the joys of family…

A thought passed through Jayne's mind. Jayne pursed her lips before curling them into a small, mischievous smile as she turned away from the spectacle and retreated into the warmth of her family's keep, the Stonehold.

The castle was not a pretty sight, not like the palaces that dotted the asari republics, at least not on the outside. The Stonehall's beauty was instead held within its walls, with high ceilings painted with colorful artwork detailing the history of House Shepard, from the house's founder, Shepp the dragonslayer, to the first Lady Paramount of the terran lands, Lena Shepard.

The main keep was a structure that made Jayne, as tall as she was, feel small. It was a tall, white tower at the center of the hold that stretched into the dull, blue sky, looming over the curtain walls and battlements. A grand archway led from the keep to the Hall of the Ancestors, every Shepard from first to last lining the walls. Jayne only reached halfway before she reached her Lord Father and Lady Mother, Theodore and Hannah Shepard.

And when my brothers and I have gone, we'll be up on those walls too…

Jayne took a glance at the portraits of her parents one last time before turning back. The edges of her skirt ghosted along the smooth stone floor, creating a faint whispering noise with every step she took. The dress she wore had been made with those colors of her family, crimson and black. Against the white stone of the Stonehold, it made her very easy to spot. A godsend for my parents when we were but children running about the halls all day, Jayne thought with a smile.

She found her room soon enough, opening the thick wooden door to find a couple of handmaidens within, tidying up her bed. She dismissed one of them but bid the other to stay. Mary was her name, a plump girl with soft brown hair.

"Help me put on my armor, Mary," Jayne told her with a smile. "I feel a sudden urge to join my brothers in their training."

Mary blinked then gave a smile of her own. "Yes, my lady."

She shuffled over to the large cabinet that held her lady's heavy plate armor, opening it to reveal the helm and chest-plate, colored black with a red stripe down the right shoulder. On the chest was the Shepard coat-of-arms, a grey dragon breathing crimson flames.

Mary stared at it with a look of both awe and reverence, attempting to gently carry the pieces over to the bed. They started with the chest piece, strapping Jayne into it with a little difficulty, before moving on to the gauntlets and boots. Pulling on a pair of thick gloves, Jayne thanked Mary before and heading for the training grounds, leaving her helm behind. She walked briskly down the long halls of her keep, ignoring the odd looks thrown her way by her castle's guard.

The courtyard was alive with activity, the sound of ringing metal filling Jayne's ears even before she stepped out under the sun. Before her was a crowd of people who had formed a large circle, gathering themselves around a spectacle that drew shouts and cheers from them. Jayne could not see the event for the crowd was too thick, but she did find her younger brother, Carver, seated on a small barrel near the stables, out of his practice armor. Jayne called out for him and when he looked up, she saw a bruised face and red eyes. He didn't need to say anything for her to understand that her twin, Edric, had gotten rather rough with him during their drilling session.

She walked over, lifting his head by the chin to meet her concerned gaze. She inspected her baby brother, frowning at the nasty cut at the edge of his hairline, a wound almost hidden by his unruly curls. Clicking her tongue, she released Carver's head.

"Edric's work I take it?" She asked, cocking her head to one side.

"An accident," Carver grumbled, looking at his feet, his tussled hair drooping down over his eyes. "He never meant for it to happen."

Jayne gave her youngest sibling a look. Carver felt it, even while staring at the ground.

"I don't think he meant for the others to start laughing, at least," He clarified, glancing over to the crowd a distance away. He winced as they let out a cheer, as if they themselves had struck him.

Jayne threw the crowd a look of her own, narrowing her eyes.

"Is our good brother still drilling?" She inquired, feeling the spark of anger grow into a small flame.

"With Sir James, yes," Carver answered with distaste. "Edric didn't want to stop just because I got little scratched up."

Jayne sneered as the words left her brother's lips. Imagining the events in her head did little to extinguish the anger that was filling her mind. That is just like Ed, she thought.

"Well, little brother," She said with an icy tone. "If Edric wants to fight, I'll give him a fight."

Forcing her way through the ring of people, Jayne found her brother and Sir James locked in an intense duel. Like Edric, James was a tall, broad man, one who put immense strength into every swing of his sword. James' dark skin betrayed his origins from the dry lands across the ocean, a product of living in a place where the sun was often unobstructed by the winter clouds. This put him in sharp contrast to Edric, who was pale-skinned with hair as dark as the night sky. Both men had beards, though Ed's was finely trimmed whereas James had allowed his to grow to the point where it seemed a bush occupied his handsome face.

There was ring as steel met steel, both men grunting as they swung and stabbed at the other in a valiant attempt to put an end to the engagement. But with their skills at an equal, neither could find the opening a lesser fighter would give them. Each man met the other, blow for blow, one ducking from a quick swipe at their head before thrusting low only to have it blocked in turn. This went on for a time while Jayne watched. Then, James took a step back with Edric mimicking an instant later. Both men were panting, sweat dripping from their brow and gliding down the backs of their necks. Sir James took notice of his Lady's presence first, taking a quick bow as tradition required.

"My lady," He said.

Edric turned around at that, giving his sister a confused look as the men and women that had gathered around taking bows themselves, each greeting her with respect. "My lady," they all repeated.

"Sister," Edric said coolly with a small nod, pointedly not bowing like the others.

Why should he? He's as much a noble as I. "Lord Protector" is what he is, remember…

"Edric. Sir James. Nice day for drilling, wouldn't you agree?" Jayne replied, her eyes trained on her twin.

There was a brief twitch at the corner of Ed's lips, though Jayne could not tell whether it was to grin or frown.

"Aye that it is. You wish to join us," Edric guessed, gesturing to Jayne's armor-clad form with his blunt and dulled practice sword.

Jayne's reply was a nod, her eyes still on her brother. She hardened her stare.

Ed swiped his tongue over his lips, clearing some sweat that had collected on the hairs on his upper lip. He snorted, then glanced over to Sir James before turning his eyes back on her.

"Well then," He began, furrowing his brow. "Once I've shown James who the better swordsman is, dear sister, I'm sure there'll be someone you can test yourself with."

"No."

Edric met her eyes, brows raised slightly. Green stared into icy blue, both too stubborn to break contact.

"No," Jayne repeated, her lips curling into a smile, one that she knew Ed loathed. "I think you can show me who the better swordsman is just as well, dear brother."

There was another twitch on Edric's mouth and Jayne could have sworn her twin was about to smile. Instead, he set his anvil of a jaw, tightly clenching his teeth. He gave her a small nod, turning his whole body to face her while taking a few steps back. Jayne could see his gloved hand tighten its grip on the handle of his sword.

"Sir James," She called out, her eyes never leaving Edric's.

"Yes, my lady?" James stepped forward.

"Your sword, please."

James handed her his blunted longsword, handle first. Her slender fingers gripped it, tight as a vise, and she muttered thanks as he passed her into the ring of spectators. She heard him whisper back, "Good luck." Jane grinned at that.

"Three hits for a victory," Edric declared as he dropped into a fighting stance, readying his weapon.

"Three hits," Jayne agreed, bringing up her blade. It was a dark grey of worn steel, scratched and dented in places. It will more than suffice for him.

The crowd that had been cheering and hollering just moments ago had gone silent as the grave, their eyes set on the two Shepard twins, one of them their Lady the other their Lord Protector. The courtyard was devoid of noises, save for the birds overhead and the crinkling of metal plates as the two armored form circled each other slowly.

Edric watched his sister's movements like a serpent would its prey, eyes hardened, concentrating. Jayne did the same, though allowed a smile to split her face. For every step she took to the right, her brother did the same, gradually closing the distance between them.

Jayne struck first, a sudden lunge at Ed's hip. He blocked, forcing the blade outward with a quick swing of his own. He too his opening and swung for a leg but his sister was as swift as the wind, checking the blow. A man in the crowd gave a cheer for the Lady of the Stonehold. Soon after, a cry came from one of the balconies overlooking the training grounds, a pretty noblewoman no older than eighteen voicing her support for the handsome Lord Protector. More voices rose, louder and louder, jeers and japes and shouts of all kinds.

The cheers returned in force, the crowd erupting as the twins of the House Shepard turned their simple duel into a spectacle for the common-folk. It was a dance of sweat and steel, the sweet song of swords filling the air.

For all the differences she and her twin brother had, they all seemed to just melt away whenever the two of them fought like this under the watchful eye of their castle's master-of-arms, Sir Anderson. Jayne was the Lady Paramount of the northern human lands, but Edric was every bit her equal with the blade. That was why she loved sparring with him, loved how for every successful blow she dealt, he would match it with just as much fury. Within the halls of her family's keep, Jayne was a highborn lady, the highborn lady, and was treated as such by all who kept their honor. But in the muddy courtyard by the armory, in the shadow of the white towers of the Stonehold, Jayne was an equal to those who stood against her. Whatever victories she took during drills were victories that she had earned.

Jayne shouted a taunt towards her brother, laughing as they traded blows, the music of ringing metal rising above the cheers of the people. Edric kept a stern face, serious as he always was, refusing to crack a smile of his own or rise to the bait. This turned out to be a great help, for as Jayne grew too haughty, Ed held firm to his concentration and landed a hard strike to her ribs. Even while armored, Jayne felt a sharp pain in her side as the dulled sword quickly scraped against her chest-plate.

Jayne felt the urge to double over and groan but pushed such things to the depths of her mind, knowing enough to deny her brother the chance at a second blow. She was quick on her feet, taking a small leap backwards out of her brother's reach.

"Careful now, sister. This isn't your court of ladies and lords. Here you might actually get hurt," Edric said with an even tone, still denying himself a smile.

Even when he taunts, he is as rigid as iron.

Jayne grimaced as she brought her sword back up, the pain in her ribs burning like fire. She turned her gaze on her brother and allowed her lips to peel back into a sneer before leaping back into the fray. It quickly became clear that her dear brother did not expect such a fast recovery from his sister, his icy blue eyes widening ever so slightly as Jayne started on the offensive once again, hammering away with her practice sword, just waiting for a weakness to rear its head.

For a few brief moments, Jayne Shepard was fury, too much for Stone-faced Edric to handle. Jayne made an opening for herself and landed a hard blow, a vicious slash across Edric's chest from shoulder to gut. Worn steel scraped against plate armor and it was the most satisfying sound in the world. Jayne's twin staggered backwards a few steps, hissing a vulgar word. The Lady of the Stonehold did not know what she enjoyed more; the feeling of her sword whacking Ed in the gut or the sight of his cheeks flushed tomato red.

To her great pleasure, this turned out to be when the spar truly began. With both siblings having received a taste of pain and humiliation at the other's hand, they dove back into their "friendly" duel with the vigor and competitiveness that only young, hot-headed twins could have. The Lady Paramount and Lord Protector had blocked out the cheers of the crowd, becoming the center of the other's attention. Wrath met fury in a frenzy of swinging swords. In the struggle, both Jayne and Edric suffered yet another hit from the other, once again evening the score. All that was left was to wait for one moment of weakness, of recklessness, and strike.

Jayne was sweating heavily despite the cool weather of the stonelands, her wild mane of red clinging to her neck and forehead. Edric was in a similar condition, his black hair matted down with sweat as well. His face was contorted into a frown as he breathed deeply through his nostrils, making him seem more like a bull than Jayne's brother. His eyes, pools of cold blue with only the slightest hint of frustration in them, were fixed on his target.

Has this been any other time, Lady Jayne would have found herself unable to suppress a laugh, for Ed's supposed inability to smile or laugh was truly legendary. But her pride was on the line as was that of Carver's.

Edric needs to be taken down a peg. Or ten…

"Come, brother," Jayne managed to taunt, panting deeply. "Surely, you are not tired? Is the 'Hero of Summer Hill' losing his edge? Perhaps that's why you never smile anymore; your sword has gone dull."

Jayne knew that Edric was a living paragon of discipline, the embodiment of self-control. He was as unyielding as the toughest stone. People could disturb him like they could lift a mountain. Ed was not the type to rise to such japes. But Jayne also knew that he was her brother. He could not simply ignore her like he could to those who were beneath him.

Sure enough, her dear brother was on her in a heartbeat with wild eyes that were aflame with anger. He hammered away at her with wrath that only a sibling could draw from a person. For a moment, Jayne believed she had made a terrible mistake, ducking and weaving from swings that were sure to be anything but pleasant had they actually hit her. But Ed was in a blind rage and that was all she needed.

Her opening came quickly, her brother making the fatal error of thrusting forward, his arm stretching out into the air. Jayne needed only to lean out of its reach before taking a swift step forward to where Edric's sword had no hope of reach her. She moved up close until her face was inches from her brother's, before bringing the edge of her blade up under his chin just shy of touching skin. They froze in place, with Ed stuck holding his sword out in the air. It took a moment for her brother to realize just what Jayne had done, but when he did the fire in his eyes died down. He furrowed his brow but it seemed he couldn't quite bring himself to glare at her. Jayne simply smirked, saying nothing as she quirked up a brow, waiting. It was a wordless question.

Well?

Edric frowned, unsurprisingly, before blowing a gust of air out his nostrils. He opened his gloved hand, letting his sword drop to the dirt.

"I yield," He said, flatly.

The crowd roared. And Jayne jumped, nearly dropping her own blade. She had forgotten about the crowd. Taking a step back, Jayne calmed herself. She scanned the mob of people that had gathered around the drilling yard. Sir James was laughing, clapping at the show he had seen. Sir Anderson was there as well, wearing the proudest of smiles. Beside him was Carver, who appeared no less happy. Her eyes then fell upon another familiar face.

Kaidan Alenko was a tall man and while wearing the blue robes of the College of Magi he only seemed taller. He had a handsome face with long, dark hair as black as the night sky, making him the apple of many maiden's eyes. With his looks, his skill in the magic arts, his bountiful knowledge in subject from mathematics to language, and his privileged position in the Shepards' House Court, he had little reason to not be happy. But at the moment, Magister Alenko was not smiling. Jayne took note of this and decided to wait until the crowd's excitement had died down.

When most of the people had left to go back about their own business, with Ed sulking off with a heavy frown that Jayne was sure would disfigure his face, Kaidan took the chance to walk up to her. He gave a quick bow and spoke quietly into her ear, "I need to speak to you, milady, about something of great import. We should go somewhere quiet… and perhaps more private."

They retreated into Jayne's study, a room that had once been her father's personal library. Three of the four walls were but shelves that held books upon books, both new and old. In what gaps could be found between the many tomes, there were placed trinkets of all sorts, funny little items her father picked up in his travels. There were glowing rocks and wooden animals that came to life if you spoke a certain word. The room only had one small window, placed high on the wall behind Jayne's desk, so the study nearly always had a thick, dusty smell to it, courtesy of the books.

Kaidan closed the thick, wooden door behind them, leaving them alone and in relative silence. Jayne crossed her arms, waiting.

"So, you told me you wanted to talk? Then talk."

"I apologize for pulling you away from any enjoyment you were having, milady, but you have received a message," Kaidan spoke, his voice low and serious. He held up a piece of rolled up yellowish paper. On it was the familiar mark of the southern empire; two crossed spears behind a falcon with spread wings. "…From the turian Hierarchy."

Jayne did not expect that.

"Oh."

The Hierarchy? What could they possibly want at this time of the year?

Kaidan nodded, understanding. "I was surprised as well, milady. It is not every day that we receive messages from those who attempted to conquer us thrice. A raven came this morning holding this and it took young David Archer and I all through lunch to translate it. Quite the delay, I know, but my knowledge of the turian tongue is not as refined as I previously believed…"

Jayne waved him off, shaking her head.

"Just tell me what it said, Magister."

Kaidan's lips flattened into a line, but he stopped short of a frown. Gods know that Ed gives me enough of those.

"The turian Primarch is dead," Kaidan declared, bowing his head in some semblance of respect. Considered her people's history with the turian empire, such a gesture was something Jayne did not expect from any human.

"His son," the Magister continued, "has taken up the position himself."

For a moment Jayne said nothing. Primarch Arterys was someone her parents had gotten to know over the course of their reign and before they passed on, they made sure their children knew how to deal with the man. She knew Arterys, but his son was possibly someone else entirely.

"What do we know about Primarch Vakarian's son?" Jayne asked, taking a deep breath.

"We know that he is a commander, much like his father. He smashed a small army of krogan raiders that were encroaching on turian territory and came back having lost few legionaries."

Jayne snorted, "A small army? That does not seem like a great accomplishment to me, Magister. Edric did the same to a large batarian army at Summer Hill and he lost next to no one. "

"Then you do not know the krogan, milady," Kaidan replied with a ghost of a grin. "Our young Primarch is known for being reckless however, as well as quick-tempered. He might prove to be an annoyance. Or he might prove to be like his father: tolerable."

Jayne sighed, already feeling exhausted. She brushed some sweaty hair out of her face and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Whatever he is, I fear I'll find out soon enough," Jayne said, giving Kaidan a half-hearted grin.

"Sooner than you think, milady."

Jayne raised a brow, confused. The tall magister set the roll of paper on the desk in front of her, giving her a serious look.

"That's not just a message from the Empire. It is an invitation, Lady Shepard. Primarch Vakarian wishes for you to ride south to the turian capital. 'To ensure lasting peace', he wrote."

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