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callsign-rogueone · 3 months

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the last six years - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader Only one person has remained by Brennan’s side for the last six years, through the good and the bad. [requested] wc: 3.9k 🏷: SPOILERS FOR FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME. fatal injury, blood, and multiple character deaths. basically every bad thing that has ever happened to Brennan will be in this series. I took some major creative liberties with this one and made a bunch of stuff up regarding Tyrrish culture, but we’re just gonna breeze right past that. more to come, because Brennan is just so husband material… mans had me giggling and kicking my feet every time he spoke.

“Tairn! We need Naolin!” You scream, praying that he is alive to hear you. “Bren, please, stay with me.”

His chest rises and falls slowly; he's still breathing. Breathing is good. “Y’need to get out of here.”

“No. I’m not leaving you. Eyes open, Bren, please,” you beg, pressing your hands deeper into the wound. “Tairn!”

“Thirty seconds out!” He yells back.

There’s not much you can do. To remove the arrow is a death sentence when you don’t have any medical supplies. It’s the only thing keeping the blood in his body, but even then it’s doing a shitty job; the warm crimson continues spilling out through your fingers, seemingly endless.

“S’ gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Brennan soothes, feeling your panic.

“Bren, you need to stay awake. You can’t die. I can’t keep going without you.” Tears are pouring freely down your cheeks, dripping down onto the dark fabric of his flight jacket.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbles, ignoring your pleas. He’s slipping away, fast, falling into the slow confusion that comes with a shortage of blood to the brain. “Let me mend you.”

“I’ll worry about myself later. Right now we need to keep you alive.”

Heavy bootsteps enter the room. “Holy shit,” Naolin breathes, at your side in an instant. He digs in his bag, producing sutures and gauze.

If you act quickly, and if by some miracle the arrowhead hasn’t pierced Brennan’s heart, you can keep him stable long enough to find another mender. You break the shaft of the arrow, Brennan whimpering in pain as it shifts within his chest.

“I know, my love, I’m so sorry,” you soothe, wiping your palms on your pant legs and moving to cradle his head in your lap as Naolin takes over. You keep whispering reassurances to him, terrified that if you stop, it’ll sever the last thread holding him in this world. “You’re doing so good, Bren. Almost done, I promise.”

Naolin gives you a look that tells you no, he’s not almost done.

Brennan’s grip on your hand loosens, and you scramble to grab his wrist, bloodied fingers trying to find a pulse -- to no avail. “No,” you cry, tears pouring down your cheeks, “Bren, please wake up, please.”

The slow thump beneath your fingertips stops. Brennan’s heart is no longer beating.

You sob, a desperate sound that splits the air of the ballroom, and Naolin makes his decision, grasping Brennan’s hand and yours. “The two of you need each other.”

“Nao, you can’t-” you gasp at the rush of energy that rips through you, the pain in your broken ribs diminishing instantly. You feel like you’ve been given a shot of pure adrenaline.

Naolin stops breathing just as Brennan starts again, collapsing to the marble floor, and your lips part in shock.

“He is gone,” Tairn confirms, fighting to keep his voice even. “May your gods honor his sacrifice and reward him in the next life.”

“I’m so sorry.”

His eyes are closed. That comforts you in some tiny way, that he looks whole, uninjured, like he could just be sleeping, but you know that isn’t the case.

Brennan’s breaths are even, pulse steady. The wound looks days old now, the fresh blood coating the skin the only evidence that he had nearly died today. He’ll pull through, as long as you can get out of here.

You say a prayer to Malek on your friend’s behalf, casting one last glance at his unmoving body, and gather Brennan into your arms -- he’s still breathing, but limp, exhausted. You can carry him out of here, but where will you go?

A man bearing a crossbolt steps into the ballroom.

You make no movement toward your weapon, still holding Brennan’s body to your chest. “We surrender,” you rasp, praying he will take pity on a pair of bloodsoaked young lovers and their fallen comrade.

He steps closer, not responding.

The words escape you before you can think. The old language feels foreign on your tongue, misshapen from years of disuse. “I am a daughter of the house Lindell, and a citizen of Tyrrendor. I have sworn an oath to-”

“I know who you are, Lady,” he says. “Come with me.”

He stops in front of an abandoned farmhouse, painted gold in the sunset. “Bathe, sleep. I’ll be back when I can.”

You remain by Brennan’s side. You stitch up his wounds, wash the dried blood from his skin, count his heartbeats as he continues to sleep.

Night comes, bringing freezing wind through the cracked windows, and you climb into the bed beside him, pulling the few blankets you’d found over the pair of you. He curls into your side, seeking warmth — his skin is still cold, but not as icy as it had been when you limped him over here.

When you wake the next morning, the man has not yet returned.

“Ban?” You ask quietly. You haven’t heard from the dragon since you’d dismounted over a day ago, but she must still live, as you do.

“Nearby, with Marbh,” she reassures. “Tairn has returned to Basgiath to be with his mate. It will take years for him to recover from this loss, but he will live on.”

You continue to stroke Brennan’s hair, taking solace in the steadiness of his breathing.

“Your devotion to the mender is the strongest I have seen from any human,” she says quietly.

“He has become the air I breathe. It was unbearable when he…” you don’t even want to think the words. “I don’t know what I would have done, had Naolin not intervened.”

Brennan stirs, stretching in the cute way you’ve seen him do so many times after waking up, scrunching his face at the bright morning light streaming into the room. He takes you in, thanking the gods that the only injury you bear is a yellowing bruise on your cheek. A gentle hand cradles your face, and it vanishes.

“Naolin?” He asks quietly, and something tells you he already knows deep down.

You shake your head, your eyes brimming with tears. “He gave his life to save you.”

He looses a shuddering breath, and you gather him into your arms, crying together.

You attempt to mentally prepare yourself to enter the assembly room, adjusting your posture -- shoulders back, chin up, eyes forward.

“Not a word,” you warn Brennan quietly. “Keep your shields up, like I taught you.”

“I didn’t know we were taking prisoners,” a lanky teenage boy calls, eyeing you from his perch on the edge of a table. In the years you’ve been away, he’s grown into his father’s dark features, and the lazy confidence that can only come with a noble title. “I was wondering when you’d be back from playing soldier. Have they brought you here to negotiate?”

“Lovely to see you again too, Xaden,” you say dryly, addressing the boy by name, and Brennan’s gaze whips toward you in shock. “No, I am not here to negotiate. We are here to surrender, and if you will have us, we will take your side in this fight to free Tyrrendor from those who have oppressed her for centuries.”

“They would be an asset to us, should this prove to not be a setup,” one of the elders says, keeping his hand on the hilt of his longsword.

“She has proved her allegiance to Tyrrendor time and time again,” Xaden defends coldly, dismissing the man who looks old enough to be his grandfather. “It is the general's son that I’m more concerned with.”

You look him directly in the eye as you speak, raising your chin. “Sorrengail is a strong rider and skilled mender, but above all, he is a good man. I could not have chosen anyone better to share the crown with when the day comes.”

Brennan looks at you like he has no idea who you are, trying to discern if this is a dream.

Xaden finds this amusing. “She really didn’t tell you? Always so secretive, that one. Your girlfriend is heir apparent to the Duchy of Lindell, as I am to Aretia, where you stand.”

He looks to the elders, who all nod in affirmation, deeming your appraisal of Brennan satisfactory. “It’s good to have you back, Lady. Things were getting boring without you.”

You lower your head to him in thanks, Brennan quickly copying you.

You tug Brennan into the hall after you’re dismissed.

“Did you really mean that?” He asks, head still spinning.

“Every word,” you reply. “From the moment you extended that hand to me in our first year at Basgiath, I knew you were good to your core, Brennan Sorrengail. It would be an honor to share my duty with you.”

“Your mate needs you,” Marbh says, making a rare appearance.

Your heart drops. You sprint down the valley trail back to the house, attempting to ascertain what had happened, but you aren’t given a response. Marbh has always been vague.

You find Brennan tucked into a corner of your shared room, back pressed to the wall. He’s clutching a piece of parchment that you recognize to be a Basgiath death roll. He extends it to you wordlessly, and your eyes race down the list, searching for Mira, his mother, another of your friends…

The final name on the list, below the rider’s quadrant cadets, almost as an afterthought… Major William Sorrengail. His father.

“Oh, Bren,” you breathe, gathering him into your arms, “I’m so sorry.”

His entire body shakes with a sob, and it takes everything in you to not cry as well, but you remain strong, needing to be there for him. “I knew I’d never see him again,” he says in a cracked whisper, “but now…” But now it’s real.

You’d never met the man, and now you never will, but you know what a profound impact Brennan’s father had on his life, imparting so many of the qualities that you admire about Brennan; his dedication to his studies, his respect for the scribes that so many others dismiss or overlook, his unwavering compassion…

You offer a silent prayer to Malek on his behalf, asking that He show the scribe the same kindness that he had shown others in life.

“I don’t know why, or how,” Brennan rasps, “I don’t know who was there with him in the end, if Mira and Violet got to say goodbye, if my mother…” he can’t finish the sentence, words cut with shaking breaths. He loses the strength to hold himself up, collapsing into your embrace. “I should be there,” he sniffles, “I should have been there.”

“I know how much you love him. He knew too, I’m sure he did. They all do.” You hold him tighter, stroking his hair. “The girls are strong. They will mourn, but they will get through it together.”

He’s run out of tears, leaving him with a headache and a hollow feeling in his chest. He eventually relaxes, not saying a word as you smooth down the soft waves of his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He’s fallen asleep. You just hope his dreams will be kind to him.

“Enough,” you command, and all heads turn toward you. “I will not have you disrespect Riorson nor his partner in his own home. Have you forgotten what he has done for our young?”

Ulices stiffens. “My apologies, Lady.” He says the title with an ounce of venom, but yields, returning to his seat.

Violet continues to study you. You’re dressed simply, head to toe rider’s black mixed with traditional Tyrrish leather armor and intricate braids that she has only seen drawn in history books, but it’s obvious in your posture that you’re nobility - you do not dip your head below the horizon even for a moment, and you speak with the confidence that others will listen.

“We have better things to do than argue about what should have happened. There is no turning back time,” you say calmly. “I agree that we have been given a legion of students rather than trained warriors, but it has become our job to train them.”

Brennan speaks next. He’s been silent since the meeting started. “What professors have joined us should resume modified versions of their courses, and we will fill in the gaps. Match up those with similar signets for mentorship. Emeterrio can continue to lead combat training, and Devera Battle Brief. Kaori has not joined us, but I think there is an obvious replacement.”

You’re saddened by the news, but you smile softly at his praise.

Violet realizes that the scribbled amendments in the dragons section of Brennan’s book weren’t Mira’s, but yours. You’ve been close for years, then. You must have brought him here with you when you deserted. Part of her wonders if you’d attended Basgiath because you wanted to, or as a spy.

“Do not question the royal one’s integrity,” Tairn warns her, but does not elaborate further.

“The riot has decided that everyone here can be trusted,” you state. “And if anyone turns out not to be, we will do what we have to do, without hesitation, for the good of the movement.”

There’s sounds of agreement from the other six, and then the meeting is over.

“Hey,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe, clutching a bloodied rag to his face.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Mira’s fist happened,” he explains, lifting it, and you wince at the sight of his nose, the bridge split and bruising. “I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

Your heart twists. Brennan hasn’t been able to see his sisters for nearly a decade, spending the last six years in hiding and the two before that stationed across the continent with hardly enough leave to travel back and forth to Basgiath. For Mira to have punched him straight in the face instead of the tearful hug he’d dreamed of… it must have crushed him.

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, careful not to bump his nose. “I’ll talk to her,” you say softly. “Go see the healers.”

You’ve only met the middle Sorrengail in passing, nearly ten years ago now, but she’s exactly as Brennan had described her; a younger version of their mother, and just as strong-willed. Evidently, she remembers you, scowling and crossing her arms at the sight of you, but still standing at attention — there’s no missing the Major’s insignia on your chest. Violet stands as well, but doesn’t look as sour as her sister.

You wave a hand. “At ease. I am not here to issue orders, rather to talk about your brother.”

Mira prickles, Violet looking concerned.

You choose your words carefully. “I do not expect either of you to forgive him overnight, nor for you to forgive me for my complacency in this matter. All I ask is that you show him some compassion. It has been hard for him too, being apart from his family. When your father-”

“That is not a sentence you should finish,” Mira interrupts.

“Mira,” Violet scolds softly, “be nice.”

“No,” she snaps, “I don’t think you understand. We mourned him. We called him a hero, thought he died honorably in battle when he really just deserted and changed his name.”

“He did die,” you say, and the eyes of both women flit back toward you. You look over your shoulder. “He bled out on the floor of that ballroom, and his heart stopped. Our friend siphoned away his life to save him.”

“Tairn’s previous rider,” Violet says in a whisper, as if the dragon will not hear her that way.

“Yes. Naolin.” You say his name with a heavy voice. No wonder Tairn won’t speak to her of the one who came before. That explains the gruff dragon’s defense of you, too.

Mira is silent, likely feeling guilt over her outburst as she realizes her brother still lives in the house he’d been killed in, with the son of the man who had ended his life.

“The elders gave him the name Aisereigh — meaning resurrected — as a layer of protection from those who hold vendettas against your mother. It hurt him to take it, and to not be able to give me the Sorrengail name, but it was necessary for his survival.”

Violet’s eyes land on the band circling your ring finger, a smooth strip of silver carved with Tyrrish runes. Brennan had worn a matching one when she’d seen him the day after War Games, but she hadn’t thought anything of it until now. “You’re married.”

You nod. “Three years ago, right on that bluff at the top of the valley, on a gorgeous summer day. Both of us wish those he loves most could have been there.”

“Thank you,” Violet says quietly, “for staying with him through it all.”

“I have been by his side since our first year at Basgiath, and I will remain there as long as we shall live, as I have vowed to,” you reply with the same blunt conviction that she’s used to from Xaden — that must be a Tyrrish thing. “Now please excuse me. I have a class to teach in a few minutes.”

Mira lowers her head to you in a gesture of respect. “I’m sorry,” she says, but she does not say what for.

You give her a soft smile in return, heading back into the house.

“Major Aisereigh will be taking over your dragonkind course, as Professor Kaori did not elect to join us here,” Professor Devera announces.

It’s strange to be standing on the dais as an equal with the woman who’d had a hand in kidnapping you from Brennan’s bed to torture you eight years ago, but nearly everything about your life since that night has been strange.

“I don’t know precisely what Kaori did and did not cover thus far in the term, but given that every person in this room has managed to bond a dragon, you are clearly proficient, and I will treat you as such,” you begin. “Dragons are independent, often to a fault, but do not forget that your health depends on theirs. As riders, you must learn how to care for them properly. That’s what we will be focusing on for the remainder of the term, along with flight mechanics and keeping your seat under stress.”

You glance at Brennan, who is sitting incognito in the back row, broken nose now mended, and he nods, an easy smile on his face. You’re doing great.

The lesson passes easily, your students much more engaged than you remember your peers having been in Professor Kaori’s class.

“I will be needing volunteers to help with the maintenance of the riot while they’re grounded.”

At least thirty hands shoot straight up — half the class.

The trek up the valley wall is never easy, but you make winded conversation with several of the volunteers, mainly nervous first-years who confide that they need the extra practice.

You stop at the top of the trail, cupping a hand to your mouth and calling out a few short notes, and Banrion is at your side in seconds, shaking the ground with her landing. At least a dozen others land nearby, sitting upright in waiting.

“You’ve brought children,” she appraises, eyeing them with distaste.

“Cadets,” you correct, “that you will be helping me teach. So be nice.”

She chuffs softly. “Fine.”

“I have chosen some more agreeable members of the riot to aid me today, to ease you into their care, but let me make this clear,” you say to the class, who have retreated to give you and Ban a healthy distance. “the majority still find it deeply offensive to be addressed by a human that is not their rider. Unless your bonded has joined us today, please refrain from speaking to any directly.”

You wait for nods of affirmation. “Banrion and I will demonstrate pre-flight checks once, and then you will split into groups of two or three to do the same with the remainder here.”

Once you get everyone settled, you find Brennan — he’d tagged along quietly, not wanting to part ways after the morning’s chaos.

“Well done, Professor,” he says, smiling. “You just might make this a day job.”

You laugh. “Is this everything twenty-year-old Bren thought it would be?”

“It is,” he says quietly. “And more.”

You gaze out at the field of cadets. “Marked and unmarked, living in harmony.”

Brennan squeezes your hand in acknowledgment, remembering how scared you had been when the first marked ones left for Basgiath, and each year since. It had hurt you deeply when not all of them returned.

Tairn stalks up to you, dipping his head in greeting. “Good to see you again, royal one.”

You smile. “Glad you’re still around, big guy. You have made an excellent choice in Violet. How is the golden one?”

“Still dreamless,” he answers, not deigning to reply to your compliment.

You worry your lip between your teeth, concerned.

He casts a glance around at the young cadets in the vale, who are taking their tasks very seriously. “You remain as revered a leader as you were at Basgiath.”

You’re actually touched, but you won’t dare mention that to Tairn.

“It is not an easy feat to raise young,” a green scorpiontail says in agreement, looking down fondly at the first-years that are inspecting her claws for cracks, “but the two of you are doing a fine job.”

You smile. “And how are your young?”

“Safe,” she answers. “You may come see them after dark.”

“It would be an honor.”

“Professor?” A cadet calls from across the field, sounding mildly concerned.

You pull apart from Brennan reluctantly. “Duty calls. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Kiss for your thoughts?” you ask playfully, seeing the weary look on his face. It’s been a long day for him, with multiple arguments among the assembly and all the emotions of reuniting with Mira.

“I have both of my sisters back,” he breathes, still in disbelief. “I thought I’d never see them again.”

You lay a hand on his back, resting your head on his shoulder. “I spoke with them before class. Mira was particularly upset, but she softened when I told her what really happened.”

He’s quiet. “She has every right to hate me for what I did. She should despise me for the rest of my life.”

“But she doesn’t,” you remind him gently. “She holds anger, but she doesn’t hate you. You’re her brother, and she knows you love her. You wrote her an entire textbook on how to survive the rider’s quadrant. If that isn’t testament enough, I don't know what is.”

He shakes his head, smiling softly. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”

You grin, moving to climb into his lap. “Because I know you, and I know exactly what goes on in that beautiful brain of yours.”

“Yeah?” he asks, nose brushing against yours, a ringed hand settling on your waist. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Hmm. Probably about how long of a day it’s been, and how you’d like to unwind after all of it?”

“You’re absolutely right,” he says. “I’ll take that kiss now.”

You lean forward, connecting your lips to his, and the rest of the world falls silent, melting away until all that’s left is you, your husband, and the love you share, love that has endured death itself.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan aisereigh #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing fanfic #reader insert #x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #mine #dividers by user cafekitsune #Brennan and Duchess

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accidentalspaceexplorer · 2 years

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Good Starter Romance Novels:

This is more of a recommendation post and less of a review post, but I thought given Valentine’s Day, I’d suggest some entry points into the massive romance novel genre for those of you who might be intimidated and not know where to start! This list is definitely going to skew modern, because I personally have a hard time with the way consent is usually handled in older romances.

If you’re an SFF fan:

Swordheart by T. Kingfisher: Halla is being pressured by her terrible extended family to give up her inheritance, which would let her actually take care of herself, and in her hour of need, picks up a magic sword that’s actually a man. Cue hijinks across the countryside, a lot of angst, and a fantastic romance. I read it last year and it kicked off a reading binge through T. Kingfisher’s other novels (the Paladin series could also easily have been on this list). I absolutely loved the character work in this, as well as the complex and intricate world-building, the delightful side characters, and the layered plot.

Winter’s Orbit by Everina Maxwell: This is an arranged marriage m/m sci-fi murder mystery romance, and it was fantastic from start to finish. Jainan’s journey learning to trust Kiem was really compelling, and I devoured this novel.

Honorable Mention: In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan: It’s not really a romance novel, since it’s YA, but I found the romance in this extremely compelling in addition to the meta commentary on portal fantasies and the delightful snark by our main characters.

If you’re more of a contemporary fan:

Get a Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert: Chloe Brown has a (brief) brush with death and decides that she needs to fix up her life. She’s only managed to do one of the items on her list (move out of her parents’ house) by herself, so she enlists her new building manager to help her accomplish the rest of them, and they catch feelings along the way. Chloe has a chronic illness, and that spoke very deeply to me while reading. Also, she and Red are adorable, and I loved them together.

The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang: A woman with Asperger’s decides that the best way to make up for her lack of dating experience is to hire an escort to help her practice sex, but the arrangement between them has a hard time staying strictly business. This romance starts with the sex and then moves to the romance, and I found the neurodivergence rep extremely refreshing.

The Flatshare by Beth O’Leary: Tiffy needs a cheap place to live after breaking up with her boyfriend, and Leon needs some extra money to put towards his brother’s legal expenses. They decide the best way to solve both issues is to share a flat - but they’ll each only live there for half the time. This book has a wild premise, but the relationship that develops between Tiffy and Leon is really grounded. It spends a long time building up their own stories, and they become friends first before they fall in love.

If you’re looking for a historical setting:

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite: A widow decides to support one of her dead husband’s scientific correspondents, who turns out to be a young woman astronomer trying desperately to break into the male-dominated scientific sphere, and they fall in love. I loved the slow-burn romance between these characters, as well as the richness of the historical setting.

The Rogue Not Taken by Sarah MacLean: The two main characters of this romance get stuck together on a road trip to Scotland. Neither one of them trusts the other at the start, and yet somewhere along the way they come to care deeply for each other. This one just made me feel so many things!! It’s one of the first romance novels I really loved.

The Duchess War by Courtney Milan: A secretly unionist duke and a woman hiding her past both trying to ferret out the other person’s secret without giving up their own, and fall deeply in love in the process. I just really loved the banter, and also the male protagonist is extremely extra about his feelings and I loved it.

Honorable Mention: A Countess Below Stairs by Eva Ibbotson: Yes, that Eva Ibbotson. While she’s very famous for her children’s books, she also wrote a handful of romances for adults, all set in Europe between 1900 and 1950. I found them deeply moving, and I’d recommend all of them, but this one in particular, about a minor noblewoman who flees Russia in the wake of the Russian Revolution and takes a job as a servant to an English household in order to support her aging relatives. Then, of course, she falls in love with the new Earl.

Additional Non-European Options: While most historical romances are set in England, there are a few writers I haven’t gotten to yet that place them elsewhere. Beverly Jenkins has written a lot of historical Black romances in America, same with Alyssa Cole, and Jeannie Lin writes romances set in China throughout history.

I hope you enjoy these recs, and if you have any favorite romance novels I haven’t mentioned (especially SFF ones) let me know!

#book recs #romance novels

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ziclovs · 2 years

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HSHQ TASK TWENTY-EIGHT : PERSONAL STAFF.

every person that works in the grand duke of rhine’s offices is extremely ambitious, innovative, open-minded and specially handpicked for optimal results. they don’t always agree with each other, but they never find themselves at an impasse, the engine always needs to roll forward. their main goal: to make rhine as lucrative and as progressive as possible. the first 3 are the only ones present with kaspar in the program, the 4th flies in and out as needed.

1. PERSONAL ASSISTANT: oskar heisenberg, 26 ( brennan clost )

kaspar believes in steady professional development so his assistants are usually promoted when he feels they are ready. being kaspar’s assistant isn’t easy, especially whilst in the program. almost everything that needs to reach kaspar goes through oskar first. kaspar doesn’t like having minions following him around, so oskar is rarely seen flanking him. he has his station and remains there, running interference with the team in germany and collecting updates and filtering information which he compiles and sends to kaspar in 2 hour blocks. oskar is in awe of ( and has healthy fear of ) his boss, and wants his approval. he is lively, eager and is well connected on every social platform, he knows everything that’s happening: trends, paradigm shifts and fads, networks with flair and is excellent at calling in favours. when necessary, he can deep dive into huge amounts of information fairly quickly which is a huge asset given how efficiently and quickly things run in the rhine offices.

2. BUSINESS DIRECTOR & LIAISON: kelpie lithemba lange, 30 ( damaris lewis )

the rhine staff functions very much like an office in a financial district. pitches, proposals, investments, new initiatives that involve profits and money go through kelpie. she runs her own small team remotely and is also the one that responds to emails and the like on kaspar’s behalf. she is his main go-between for most things except his dealings with rhine’s duke and duchesses. those, he does personally. kelpie and oskar work very closely together in the program to make kaspar’s life as seamless and productive as possible.

3. BODYGUARD & TRAINER: bernard schneider, 35 ( paul bullion )

he doesn’t talk much, not only because it’s his role, but he generally doesn’t talk much. some people think he’s mute. kind face. has a crush on kelpie.

4. CHIEF ANALYST: STRATEGY & RISK: william “wills” wagner, 34 ( kingsley ben adir )

william wagner is the guy that keeps kaspar’s feet planted firmly on the ground. he is the man who crunches the numbers, identifies trends and risks, sees the potential growth areas and helps with all the forecasting that kaspar does. he is no military genius, but he can clip the spending with one word to kaspar’s ear if it’s unfeasible. kaspar met him in university, they were roommates and very good buddies. when kaspar took over from his father, he needed support, structure and someone who he understood and could understand him, in his corner quite badly. he had a particular vision for his rule as grand duke and one of the most brilliant minds he’d known in university would surely be an asset. convincing wills was difficult, there was a lot of persuasion and begging involved. wills’ mother is french. he flies into the program when kaspar and wiebke are doing something major.

5. CHIEF OF STAFF: lorelei günther, 63 ( wendy malick )

there was a time when you could have told lorelei that she would one day willingly work for a zielcke and be loyal to them, and she would have scoffed in your face and told you to get out. she was a seasoned pro at fighting and stacking the system, but not for dietrich or for kaspar, but for one of their loudest opposition camps. she served under the leader of such a group, criticising dietrich’s politics. for the cause she believed in, she was relentless, a real bloodhound and a bulldog in one. kaspar noted her tenacity and sought to poach her for his team someday. that day arrived sooner than he thought it would.

convincing lorelei wasn’t easy, wooing her meant a lot of patience, and the willingness to open himself up to free fire. he invited her to spend a month in his offices, observing before formally offering her the job. at first, she found the offer exceptionally naïve. she was much older, people like him would sooner put her out to pasture — and how could he ever trust that she could be trusted given that she was someone else’s lieutenant? it was kaspar’s response that sold her: everyone is someone else’s guy, until they’re yours. he wanted to be hers just as much as he wanted her to be his. the offer was made, and the contract was signed.

her age and experience are an asset, but she doesn’t tote this around like a superpower, she keeps up with the times, involves herself with the younger generation and sometimes is more savvy with new resources and technology than they are. she pushes kaspar to the limit, keeps his head screwed on tight, woe befall onto anyone that threatens the grand duke or their team. unofficial den-mother of the office.

6. HEAD OF PUBLIC AFFAIRS/SPOKESPERSON: tara mazetta, 37 ( mozhan marnó )

she doesn’t look german, her name isn’t very german either, but tara loves germany. she is a consummate german, and she loves rhine. she adores the river, she adores its eccentricities, the way it mingles culture with influence from close neighbours, the symbiotic relationship always gave them character. she and her team take care of everything communications related, from drafting and disseminating policy, issue management, crisis communication, and general PR. handling journalists and the public in the way kaspar would, authentically is her forté. she has 0 sense of humour. you can count on her to never laugh at any joke ever, unless it’s you falling over or failing spectacularly after tooting your own horn. it is highly likely that she will succeed lorelei when she retires, and one of her underlings will take over her current post.

7. ADVISOR: helmut rathenau, 54 ( jonathan cake )

helmut served kaspar’s father dietrich, the previous grand duke. he was loyal to dietrich and continues to serve his son with the hope that kaspar won’t tarnish everything his father built. dietrich supported the german crown, and had an entirely different style from kaspar so helmut’s opinions often clash with the decisions kaspar ends up making. they butt heads often. helmuts influence allows kaspar to see the other side of things. getting rebutted at every turn keeps his ego and pride in check and allows him to see more clearly. helmut did not favour the attack on strasbourg, his reasoning and experience were valued and were quite convincing. they let kaspar know that failure was not an option. everything helmut posed was rectifiable by claiming alsace in its entirety, and that is what they did.

8. IN-HOUSE PERFORMANCE COACH/ THERAPIST/ WELFARE ADVISOR: doctor leana keller, 40 ( keri russell )

leana is a psychiatrist by training. she has an MD as well as extensive business and political experience because this is the industry she has entered since coming on board. absolutely nothing gets by her and she can evaluate your motivations the moment you walk into a room. she was born in leeds, england to an english mother and a swiss-german father, spent time in geneva in her youth, then the U.S. for her MD. kaspar met her at a conference. she was very charmed by him, intrigued by his mind and the opportunity he was offering was unique and exciting. she wouldn’t just help people with their problems, she could build something, revitalise a whole beautiful region ! by personality, leana is approachable and warm. she knows the mental and psychological blueprint of every employee that has walked into her office: what makes them tick, how they will react in various scenarios, can spot conflict before it comes. in her office, she listens to what might hold them back at work, asks questions, gets to the root of any problem and employs a number of combined techniques and tactics from neuroeconomics and psychology to help them get out there and perform their best. she is the reason rhine runs on its own version of order and she is the reason everyone stays loyal despite the occasional disagreement or differing opinions. she is also responsible for organising team exercises. when leana says something, cautions something or demands the room’s attention, people listen. her authority is second only to lorelei’s. she and kaspar are fairly close.

9. LEGAL COUNSEL: james newman, 46 ( billy crudup )

kaspar has more than one legal counsel, but with what’s happening in the world, and with his and wiebke’s pursuits, it is the oiliest, smarmiest snake in his arsenal of contacts that he uses as his legal quarterback. james is american. absolutely nobody likes him. he is everything despicable about a lawyer that can exist, and then some. james’ strength, given his american training is finding loopholes and finding unconventional ways to win. if kaspar and his team can find every loophole, they can cover them and make their work, and their processes iron-clad, even when the moves aren’t popular or questionable. he gets the job done and is a formidable one to have in their corner.

10. PERSONAL APPEARANCE SPECIALIST / IMAGE CONSULTANT: dia handrich, 34 ( dia mirza rekhi )

dia is half ethnic indian and half german, but is german through and through. she and kaspar have known each other since kindergarten. she knows kaspar inside out, and was a frequent visitor to the brühl palace and nordkirchen from age 5, past kaspar’s parents’ divorce and right up til dietrich’s funeral. she is close enough to him that she is privy to almost every aspect of his life, she knows and is involved with almost every other friend he has, makes, or will make, and is a vivacious and elegant darling to the personnel in all the zielcke residences. when they were 23, they made a pact to marry each other if they were still single past the age of 40. this of course, was voided, because dia married recently, mere days before kaspar joined the program. dia has her own company, and a full life, she moonlights as kaspar’s stylist and image consultant in order to support him after his father’s death, and the collaboration simply stuck !

#hshqtask028 #task

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