Domine Nance II

"This article is about Nance the Younger, Aeon's older brother. For their father, see Domine Nance."Domine Nance II, better known as Nance Jr. or "Nancy," was a peer of Kaind Sei'Dist, and original heir to the barony of Mastri. He is a minor character in Kingdom of Yaoi: One Wish.

Second of His Name
First-born sons grow in the shadow of their lord father, and Nance was no exception--less so, considering his father's status as the local supervillain. Expectations for him could not have been higher. From the moment he could walk, Nancy was expected to be his father's mirror, sharing not only his name, but his likeness as well. It was a challenge he took to with great reluctance...but he rose to it, all the same. Strong, athletic and respectably clever, Nance Jr. had little trouble setting himself apart from his peers. From fencing to chess, history to music, he mastered everything he tried with little more than mild frustration. To his father's mind (and therefore, to his own), he could not be beaten.

By anyone, save the heir of his family's sworn enemy: Kaindiva Sei'Dist.

In Plain Sight
The day he left for Axiom College, Nance the Elder issued a dire warning to his son: among the sheep, he would find a wolf. The Sei'Dist heir was near his age, and in his same year. Though enrolled under a pseudonym, a Sei'Dist could always be told by his beauty, his cruelty, and his brilliant blue eyes. When he found him, his father said, he was to maintain the discretion afforded by his alias, but never to drop his guard. The more he could learn of him, the better prepared he would be when they came of age.

The warning fell on deaf ears. Arriving at the school that day, he took the name Nathan Bishop and promptly forgot everything he was told. Within the first hour, he met Krishna Khan. Shielded by the tradition of assumed names, "Nate" and "Kris" entered the same class, never knowing the other was destined to end his life.

A year his junior, Kris was Nathan's polar-opposite: calm, collected, and utterly unflappable, no matter the opposition he faced. He never spoke above a bland monotone, never raised a hand to start a fight. He was the very picture of noble grace. That he was clearly of the Kamari was an easy justification, as their kind were known to be formal and controlled. But quiet did not mean shy. From the first word, Kris radiated a confidence that demanded those around him lower their eyes, rather than meet his dazzling gaze. Hot-tempered and wrongheaded as he could be, even Nate was not immune to this silent command.

The strangeness of him drew the other boy in, and they quickly became (somewhat antagonistic) friends. That friendship was all that stopped Nate from utterly hating him.

Superior
In every way, Kris was his better. He danced, fenced, and played the violin with all the skill of a master, with nary a single mistake in any task he undertook. It made Nate's consistent meltdowns over his own missteps look twice as bad by comparison. His skill in combat was undone by his quick temper, his talent in music belied by his lack of patience. Everything he tried, he was good at, but he was good with exceptions. Kris was not just good. He was brilliant.

Still, it was hard to scorn him. Kris was dismissive of his achievements, excusing them as acts of simple memorization unworthy of praise. A perpetual state of detachment from things and people alike left him with no reason to lose his temper, and so he never did. He was formidable, but reasonable, charming and bright--even funny, with a drink or two in him. It was only half-begrudgingly that Nate accepted he had a lot to learn from him, and so he kept him close.

They helped each other; Kris tutored Nate in the subjects he struggled in, and silently, Nate listened for murmurs of descent against his gifted friend. And there were plenty. Accusations of his skill and beauty stemming from some Kamari witchcraft were common enough that Nate was genuinely shocked, and somewhat confused. It wasn't until a formal event in the coming years that he realized what they meant. Dressed in silk and gold, he looked at him and was struck dumb. His "friend" was more than simply handsome--he was beautiful. Blindingly so.

It was in that moment that he realized he had made a terrible mistake in befriending his better.

Falling
Nate grappled with his developing feelings toward Kris for a long time. It was well outside of his range of things to feel, being attracted to another boy. This, without ever knowing or even suspecting who he was. As he puzzled through how to go about it, his muddled feelings came out in ugly ways. He became aggressive with his once-friend, competing with and sometimes even openly mocking him. Kris took this about how one would expect; he began to shun him. He was faced with a troubling choice: either he was going to lose his only friend, or he was going to lose his mind.

In the end, he decided the latter was acceptable. His fumbling methods of sorting himself had made his intentions clear to Kris, who took his feelings largely in stride--in so much as he failed to address them at all. That was good enough for Nate. The remainder of their school years were spent pretending nothing had changed, but he never shook the fascination.

By day, it seemed that nothing had come of the revelation. They remained as friends and nothing more. Even so, the people around them began to notice subtle changes in one of them. The normally vitriolic Nate stopped picking fights, and started to excel in classes. He moderated his bellowing voice, and contained his limitless energy, except where appropriate. He dressed better. And he went to bed on time.

What happened after lights out, no one knows.

As the end of the final year loomed, and Nate entertained the idea of pursuing his interest in earnest--damned be the consequence--their friendship came to a sudden end. Kris broke school protocol and identified himself, having long-since discerned who Nate really was. The revelation was like ice water dashed in his face. He had spent three years mooning over his fated enemy--and if word ever got out, his father would hang him. It was at that moment Nate made the quickest choice of his life. He cut all ties, and advised that they both simply...forget.

"Kris" honored his wish, and promptly disappeared from his life. It was a choice Nate regretted every day after.

Cages
Now having graduated, Nance disappeared into the safety of his name, and he tried to forget. He went right back to the family traditions of fighting and drinking, and any attempt to confront him about it resulted in violent rebuttal. For months, he existed in a state of constant agitation, seeking out diversions wherever he could find them. There was nothing he would not try, save for talking about it. He simply had nothing to say.

When he wasn't drunk and boxing other drunks, Nance threw himself fully into his heirship, training, studying, doing anything he could to distract himself from the writing on the wall. The facts weighed heavily on him. Soon, he would be presented with a wife, chosen by his terrible father, and the gilded bars of his cage would close forever. His life would be spent pretending he had not crossed forbidden lines, and that he would not readily do it again. The freedom he had known at school, and the comfort he had felt there, would never be again. And worst of all, he had brought it on himself.

With his ascension looming on the horizon, he fell fully into preparation. He sat in on senate meetings, and oversaw the holding of court. His presence was welcomed--even encouraged. Nance felt right at home in the places where he would be a fixture in days to come. More and more, he stood in for his dire father, sitting in at conferences, and attending as many lavish parties as there were invites to.

It was at such an event that, amidst a thousand familiar faces, the only one he had wanted to see appeared. It had been years since Nance had seen Kaind, and he walked in that day more dazzling that he remembered...

...And in the company of a woman.

A Matter of Honor
The sight of his once-friend with a lady on his arm did him more harm than he anticipated, and worse so for the lady in question being a slave. At once, he was besieged by the emotions he had spent three years drowning out--and, true to form, the first one to surface was anger. No more had he greeted Kaind than his habit of talking kicked up. His customary posturing, so much like his father's, transformed him at once into a tyrant, harassing a fellow noble in front of all of their peers. He said a lot of things he shouldn't have. None of them were what he wanted. And just one of them was directed at Kaind's companion.

Kaind responded in shocking fashion. He drew his sword, and angrily challenged him to a duel. The wonder of it was such that Nance could only accept. He had never known Kaind to lose his temper, even to his badgering. But he was angry then. Those cold, opaque eyes lit with fire, Kaind cast the challenge and stormed from the party, leaving him to consider the mess he had made of their reunion.

It was not until much later that Nance realized both what he had said, and why he had so readily accepted.

A Dance of Opportunity
When news reached Nance the Elder of his son's behavior, he was less angry than the heir expected. If anything, he was pleased. His confusion at the response was short-lived, as his father cast a light on just what he had managed. More than embarrassing his hosts and shaming his House, Nance had created a rare and valuable opportunity. A duel could go wrong in a lot of ways--and his lord father intended just that. He was to kill his opponent, as if by accident, and snowball the Sei'Dist succession in the process.

Nance refused outright, and took the resulting beating as punishment, not for his impudence, but for inviting the suggestion at all. His father beat him until he could barely stand. Then, Nance Sr. leveled a terrible ultimatum: one of them was going to die that day. If he failed to kill Kaind, his father would kill him.

His hands were tied. Unwilling to apologize, and unable besides, Nance prepared to face his once-friend on the field of battle, knowing full-well that the cost of either outcome was more than he was willing to pay. In the end, he convinced himself he would rather have had Kaind dead than spent the rest of his life gazing at him from afar. Either way, he would get to see him one last time.

And he did.

Misstep
Unbeknownst to House Domine, a similar conflict was taking place at the home of their enemy. The difference was, Kaind did not know it was happening.

That fated morning came, and the enemy Houses met at the neutral point between their lands. The terms were set: duel to first blood, and the injured party admitted defeat. As the sun rose, the battle commenced. As ever, Kaind was quick and graceful, faster still than Nance, but lacking his power. Nance matched him strike for strike, focused by the knowledge of his own mortality hanging invisibly over his head. For several exchanges, it all went as planned, their families watching in silent judgment as their swords clashed and rebounded harmlessly aside. They traded insults and snarls, neither meaning what they said. The weight of his father's gaze on his back drove Nance forward. Even then, all he could do was watch Kaind's face. The beauty, and the fury. He was a bronze and silver flame in the morning light. In all his coldness and poise, he had never seen him so alive.

But something was wrong, and as the battle wore on, it started to show. The precision of each blow he deflected was unlike what he had known of him. Kaind's steps were uneven, as if he were wading in sand. What should have been a healthful glow of sweat look suspiciously like that of a boiling fever. Unknown to all but two in attendance, Kaind had been poisoned, and his ability to fight was failing.

The moment it struck him, Nance stopped the duel, refusing outright to face him if the fight wasn't fair. He was one word from surrender when Kaind snatched back his attention, deliriously mocking his hesitance. Nance moved to deflect the resulting swing, but the sword came back around, slicing across his stomach and into his gut. Nance's sword came up a moment too late to block, and speared into the fumbling Kaind's chest.

They landed in a heap on the green, uncomprehending of what they had done.

The two were untangled in a flurry of frightened and angry reactions, and quickly rushed back to their homes. By the time the Domines reached their hold, Kaind was dead of the poison. Nance survived an hour more before he too passed away.

Personality
Domines are notorious for their tempers and abrasiveness, traits almost bred for in their line--and Nance II was uniquely aggressive, even for his type. Quick to anger and faster to swing, he was known for starting fights, a habit generally looked down upon in polite society. Those who dared to call him "Nancy" to his face often learned this within the next syllable. His choleric personality and perpetually open mouth saw him finding trouble everywhere he went. That was how Nance liked it. A strategist he was not; if he couldn't punch or shout it into submission, he settled to merely sulk about it.

Still, for all his ill-tempered theatrics, he was far from one-dimensional. Nance was protective of his siblings, particularly his younger brother, whom he often mentored in attempts to bring the boy out of his shell. It was less out of concern and more out of simple necessity; Aeon's cringing only reminded him of how frightening their lives could be. He was convinced that if he could teach him not to flinch, he could rob their father of the power he held over them. Though he did not spite him openly, Nance took every opportunity to go behind his predecessor's back, with everything from hobbies and amusement, to acts of support for his shy little brother. When caught, he vehemently denied his wrongdoing, even in the presence of proof.

Though prone to quick reactions, he was capable of deep and even profound thought in the times he was caught with an even keel. He tended to brag and tease to diffuse situations he found uncomfortable, preferring a loud approach to even quiet moments. Things like frustration only powered his need to succeed, leading him to tackle things he wasn't good at--like the piano--until he was good at them. Nance genuinely believed there was no obstacle he could not overcome by banging his head against it. This blind determination saw him succeed in many ways, from spite alone.

No matter the consequences, Nance said what he thought. It was a trait that cost him his life. His utter refusal to censor himself or control his temper were features his father tolerated. They marked him as a strong personality, and that was what he was.

Aeon
Despite an eight year age gap, Nance was reluctantly fond of Aeon, seeing in him something that desperately wanted protecting. It was a sense that affected him all the rest of his life. For someone known best as a bully and a mouthpiece, this was a profound thing. Nance did everything he could to encourage him, in his way. Good-natured bullying and critique made up much of their interactions, all intended to help Aeon better weather the sort of treatment he would come to expect. Learning his brother's interest in the harp, Nance had his first lyre commissioned without their father's knowledge, to encourage him to embrace his passion--even if in secret. It would become a symbol of the other things they had in common. Aeon was the last person Nance spoke to on his death bed, his dying breath spent reassuring him that who he was inside was enough--no matter what Baron Domine said.

Though the words failed to give him the strength Nance intended, Aeon never forgot them.

Domine Nance I
Far from a loving son, Nance never held more than mild irritation toward his father. It was a sentiment that was shared. While Nance Sr. was able to recognize his son's developing strengths for what they were--proof of a stalwart stateman in the making--Nance Jr. could only look at his predecessor and see a relic of an old age: stubborn, cold and manipulative, unwilling to accept any world view but his own. Ironically, they were very alike, as Nance the Younger was notoriously hard to persuade, determined to have both his say and his way. Nance Sr.'s demeanor and mannerisms were things he absorbed from necessity, becoming like him, if only to be ready for his duties. When it came to direct conflict, Nancy was often forced to fold, always willing to talk back, but not to openly defy his lord. He may have been the only person the boy ever feared--and even then, he did so with hands on hips, a biting retort primed on his tongue.

Prince Leigh
Being one of the few Domine heirs born without a Prince to act as his companion, he often found himself seeking his father's second for guidance and advice. Nance held no illusions as to his character, but he liked him all the same. To him, Prince was the very picture of mental balance, facing every conflict with the cool head and reasonable demeanor that he himself could never manage. Prince's brand of bullying was far less violent than Nance the Elder's, and Nancy appreciated his candid advice, whether or not he took it. As attending physician for the duel, Prince was the last person to see Nance alive.

Kaindiva Sei'Dist
Kaind and Nancy's relationship marked a rare time in history that a Sei'Dist and Domine have been friends. Having met at school during their first year, Nance was quickly taken with the younger boy, finding his quick wit and dry humor instantly magnetic. They bonded over music and mutual stresses, though Kaind's persistent failure to buckle beneath pressure was a point of tension between them. It wasn't until they had almost graduated that Nance began to look at Kaind more closely, recognizing his developing beauty and easy charm for what they were: a threat to his future. Realizing this, Nance put distance between them, privately afraid of what it could mean for the family business. How could he usurp a man he had feelings for?

Unfortunately, the answer came when a jealous Nance slung insults at his former friend regarding his servant, the masoca slave Dianthe. An enraged Kaind challenged him to a duel, and Nance was forced to fight him, receiving a mortal blow before delivering one himself.

To the last stroke, Nance regretted letting things with Kaind get so far out of hand.

Variants

 * Defenders of Gate City (Heroverse): Nathan Bishop Jr. - Son of a crime lord, "killed" in the 80, in a hit disguised as a hate crime. A healer.
 * Immigrant Song (20s AU): Nathan O'Rourke/"Butcher" Bishop - Dead son of an Irish mob boss in the early 1900s. Father of Davien Bower.
 * The Unnamed Story: To Be Discovered

Trivia

 * 'Nancy' is a British slur denoting an effeminate man, especially a queer one. That Nance Jr. harbored complicated feelings for Kaind might explain his defensiveness regarding the nickname. Only four people ever called him Nancy with his leave: Aeon, Ayette, Pol, and Kaind. Anyone else lost a tooth.
 * Nance shouts more than he talks, and he has no idea he's doing it. Though this is dismissed as his just being a Domine, he actually has inner ear problems. He has trouble regulating his volume.
 * Prince referred to him fondly as 'Nan.' Nance in turn called him 'Uncle.' Nancy may have been the only person Prince was ever truly fond of.
 * He taught himself piano by ear solely to spite his father, who detested music. He justified the choice of a classically "feminine" instrument through the inherent violence of the instrument, specifically the dozens of hammers striking steel wire to make sound. (Ironically, Vischias uses a similar justification.)
 * Though he would claim them all, with a heavy lean toward wrath, Nance's mortal sin is envy.