Fantasy A War of Kings

IC: Fleet- Thirteen days before the wedding
Fair Groves, The Kalkheim

His blue eyes had been wide open all the time, almost dry from fear of blinking and missing even the tiniest nuance, his ears burning from the strain of catching every word as a dramatic scene unlike none he’d ever was privy to unfolded before him.

These were the nobles, the royals of this land, having a passionate discussion openly before them, all concerning the life of a loved one, the causes and consequences of any action and all the emotions that went with them. Fleet had to close his open mouth several times during their exchange. He nodded and shook his head in several places, and more than that, a few words even stuck with him.

“The times make a man ready for them. Men are not made ready for their times.”

These words struck him deep, as much as the exchange that followed.

“If you are wrong…”

“I will lose two sons…and it shall not be for want of trying.”

Fleet’s heart was beating fast now, he wasn’t sure who to support in this. There were no simple or easy answers. There was danger and risk in anything that would be decided, it was obvious this was accepted. The question was that of sacrifice. What or who. Payment was always required.

Then the Warden, Ser Aron, made a horrible suggestion as he looked right at Lorain.

“Even if you are wrong about the name of the ship, you can still identify it, I know it. I must ask you that you go with my youngest son, Willis’s brother, Ser Caliban, to rescue Willis…”

Fleet hardly heard anything else that was said after as he felt his blood grow cold and his heart stop inside his chest. Had this man suddenly gone insane!? Was he suggesting for Lorain to go back to the very place of her captivity!?? Fleet shot a look at Lorain, his face drained of all color, shaking his head. No.

The royals went on to talk among themselves, while Fleet did his best to read the expression on Lorain’s face. He squeezed her hand. Then Lady Zooey began to address them, or more specifically, Lorain.

Her words, he could hardly focus on them. She then she looked at him and came forward. Fleet had almost taken a step back reflexively, but somehow forced himself not to recoil. Beauty, it seemed, was only a mask to conceal things far more sinister.

The Lady knelt and got closer to Fleet, who by now was holding his breath and had stopped breathing…unbeknownst to himself.

“…you who have seen so much at such an age. Fire…death…it is not right. We will keep you here, safe. It is the least we can do to one so alone in this world.”

Fleet was horrified at these words. He could’t help the expression on his face, north words that escaped his lips even before he could arrest them.

“Nae…”

They meant to separate them. To take Lorain away from him. They had figured it out. She was his courage, his very breath. She’d come to bring them news and they had not liked it, and now they were to be punished for it. He was safe with her. He knew her. These folks could hardly agree with each other and he knew them not. They were finely dressed strangers, but strangers just the same. They appeared to be well meaning nobles, but wasn’t their terrible King a noble as well?

“I……I…..”

Fleet took in some air finally and gulped, steadying a little. He looked into the Lady Zooey’s eyes. The look was one of caring and concern, her charity did seem genuine, but what she was suggesting…..

“I want to stae with Lorain.” He affirmed, holding the giant woman’s hand, which lent him a good measure of courage as he felt his trepidation slowly dissolving. If Lady Zooey was as gracious as her eyes seemed to suggest, then she was likely to understand, but he wasn’t betting on it. The sudden kindness of a stranger was like a fickle smile from Lady luck. Depending on such was to invite a visit from the Jinx. Every urchin knew this rule.

Both Lorain and Kaili were undeserved gifts from providence. Evidence. But so was the business of War…which -by the Warden’s own admission- was coming to the Groves. So how exactly was he safe here. Not to mention, he would be quite alone then.

“I’m not alone when ‘m with her….” Fleet said finally, hoping her grace would recant the decision to separate them, though he feared, the only thing he would seem to her, was ungrateful for her hospitality.


Tag:Ktala, spycoder9

 

OOC: Looong combined post with our awesome and ever patient GM

IC: Gwenn Cliffe
The Golden Anchor


"Yes. . ." The King sighed, "Yes, I did."

In the far distance, a seagull squawked once. The waves gently rocked against the boat. Nathaniel closed his tired eyes, and took several deep breathes. The salty air smelled like. . .home.

“What do you remember of your mother?” The King finally asked, though he never once opened his eyes.

Gwenn glanced up at Nathaniel at the question. His eyes were closed as he soaked in the cool evening air. Gwenn's gaze fell towards her folded arms against the railing. "Well..." She paused for a moment. Gwenn had been seven years of age when Harriet had died, Nineteen years had passed since then, and it pained the bastard girl to admit that after such a long time it was getting harder to recall certain things as each year went by. Taking in a quiet breath she continued...

"...She was caring, an' full of love...she took Lucas in an' looked after him. The Moorecroft's worked her hard... she was tired a lot, but always made time fer me, an' looked after me when I were sick. She was stern sometimes, but only cause she wanted te keep us safe" A faint trace smile crossed her lips for a moment then "If she had known some of the things we got up te..." Gwenn Glanced down at the railing for a moment, tracing a finger against the wood. "I remember her eyes, they were blue, like the sky, but there was sadness in them... Don't think she thought I'd notice, but I did..."

"Those eyes," Nathaniel nodded, "There wasn't much sadness in them when I knew her, but that might've come after." Words lingered unspoken. "She had a humor to her. In the way she spoke, when the corners of her mouth would turn up, you could always tell there was some hidden joke behind it. Even when I was leaving. . .

"How did. . ." He paused for a few seconds and steadied his breath, "What took her?"

"The flux..." Gwenn said quietly, a pained look forming in her eyes. "I dunno how she caught it, but she became very sick" Letting out a heavy breath, her grey gaze hardened some "To stop it spreading te others she was locked away in room, they wouldn' let me see her. The others tried te help but she just got weaker. The Moorecroft's maester didn't care about a sick servant..." She paused as a painful memory flooded her mind.

---

19 years ago

"I wanna see my momma, please let me see her!" The little girl pleaded, tears in her eyes as she clutched at the skirts of an older woman. She was carrying a basin of water and almost sloshed some on the floor "Gwenn what did I tell you you silly girl, you can't be down here!" The tone of her voice was probably meant to be scolding, but started to crack with emotion as she looked down at the teary youngster. "Please Bethy" Gwenn pleaded once more but Beth shook her head and let out a sigh. Placing the basin down to one side, she came down to the young girls level, and smoothed back one of the dark blonde braids that rested on her shoulder. "Your momma is not well" She said gently, Gwenn sniffed and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her tunic "Why is momma still sick?" She whimpered. Beth's breath caught in her throat and tears started to prick the corners of her eyes

"Gwenn I..."

"Beth! Whats taking so long, I need that Water!"

A female voice snapped through the air and they both looked up to see a flustered looking woman walking towards them from down the corridor. She took one look at the tearful child then shot a disapproving look at Beth. "What the Blazes is she doing down here!" She snapped as she retrieved Beth's Basin. Beth placed her hands gently on Gwenn's shoulders as the little girl started to weep again "Take her back up, put her to bed...There is nothing more we can do..."

"No, I want to see Momma!"

Gwenn cried out defiantly and wriggled free from Beth, running down the corridor. The woman cursed behind her as she rounded the corner, reaching a room with a wooden door. The little girl grunted as she pushed open the door and quickly stepped though, but the sight of what was before her stopped her dead in her tracks. On a bed in the corner, lay her mother, her eyes were closed, her honey blonde hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat and she was practically skin and bone, her skin a deathly white. The smell within the room made the little girls stomach roil.

"Momma?" Gwenn Whispered in disbelief as suddenly she was being scooped up into the arms of Beth. "Get her out of here!" The other woman snapped Beth nodded but there were tears on her cheeks "No I want my Momma!" Gwenn cried as Beth quickly spirited her away upstairs. That night the little girl had cried and cried until she couldn't cry any more.

---

"...I miss her" Gwenn finished, her voice falling to almost a whisper.

". . .As do I," Nathaniel looked down at her hands, and reached his aged knuckles over to grasp hers. After giving them a reassuring squeeze, he let hers fall away again.

"Birds flew in today. Black as night, pure bred at Delmaristead. My wife and daughter. . ." He gasped then, and fresh tears flowed down cheeks. He didn't even try and wipe them though. "Everything I have ever worked for, my entire life..."

Gwenn remembered the gossip of the maids, but judging by the reaction of the king, could some of the words they had whispered be true? Had Nathaniel truly lost his wife and daughter? She felt a pang of sadness well up inside her as she glanced up at the king. The tears rolled down his aged face, and in that moment the king of the isles appeared vulnerable and lost.

"What happened te them?" The words came out without her thinking. Quickly realising the inappropriateness of her words, Gwenn snapped her gaze back down towards the railing and cursed under her breath "I'm sorry I shouldn' have..." she stammered

"No, don't apologize," He attempted a smile, but it faded as quick as it came, "Delmaristead revolted. I shouldn't of even left in the first place. . .but there's nothing I can do now. My wife and daughter were departing for my niece's wedding. I don't know what started it, but. . .the ship took off, they tell me. My wife took an arrow, and a few stragglers climbed on the ship after them to get my daughter. No word has come from them. . ." Nathaniel wiped the tears from his face as he looked back at Gwenn. His daughter.

"You're all I have left." This time his smile withstood the pain, "I know. . .I haven't been the best of a father. . .or much of a father at all. But, if what the ravens say are true. . .you are all I have left, Gwenn."

Gwenn sighed, thinking back to the time in the Bloody Breeze. The king had casually mentioned that he probably had a bastard in every port. She wasn't all he had left, not really... What if she and the king had never crossed paths? Would he have taken in another boy or girl with storm grey eyes? She pushed that thought to the back of her mind, feeling suddenly ashamed of that chain of thought. The king could have just ignored her, looked at her with contempt as many others had but no, he was here, giving her the chance of a better life. Yes it was sudden, yes she had had to leave Breezecroft and her friends behind, but Nathaniel did seem to have the best of intentions...She couldn't seem to sense any dishonesty of deceit. She liked to think that she was good at reading people, and hoped that she was right about Nathaniel Delmari. Letting out a breath she shook her head slightly as she gazed out onto the darkening horizon.

"I'm sorry, this is just such a sudden change fer me..me father, a king...its like somethin' outta a fable or some queer dream..." She looked up at her father again then, noticing his smile, smiling despite the pain he must have undoubtedly been feeling. "...Maybe the princess and Queen are in hiding somewhere?"

"Maybe. . .But wouldn't they have wrote me? Wouldn't they have let me know they were well?" He shuddered and wiped his cheeks once more. "Korianton left to squash what's left of the rebellion. I will skip the wedding, I think. There's not much support I can provide when. . .They'll all just remind me of it. . ." His eyes were shiny again. "Maybe they live. Maybe they'll return tomorrow morn, alive and healthy and hopeful. The life I have lived though, my girl. . .I've learned that to think those thoughts, is to be hopeful. And there isn't much hope left in the world, is there?"

Gwenn shook her head despondently at Nathaniel's words. Some would say that even the smallest shred of hope is better than none at all, but with the realms of Mirwyth on the brink of war, hope had been replaced with feelings of uncertainty, nervousness and fear. She had seen the signs in Breezecroft true enough, as the word of war filtered through the town and ports. The king had mentioned a revolt in Delmaristead, and that he was no longer going to attend the wedding in the mountains. Korianton had travelled ahead to quell the trouble, but would that be enough? A slight frown creased her brow "Where will ye go now? Won't it be dangerous ta go back te Delmaristead?"

"Korianton'll get it safe again. I've never doubted the boy with a sword, and he took most of my best men to do the job," Nathaniel nodded, "I have to return. It's my place, whether they want me or not. We're Delmari's Gwenn, even if we don't wish we were. I know I haven't at times."
He sighed again, "My thoughts overwhelm me at times. In case you couldn't tell." And he laughed then, though it was weak, "I know what must be done though, if Kalera and Raven aren't found."

"We're Delmari's Gwenn...

Gwenn's stomach did an involuntary flip at those words. Since the moment she was born, she had borne the surname Cliffe, a surname that attracted ridicule and disrespect to those born illegitimately. She never really understood why some people placed so much emphasis on a name, but bastard names always had a negative association. She had been on the receiving end of so many judgmental stares, derogatory comments and threats growing up. It felt so strange for Nathaniel to refer to her as a Delmari...

"My thoughts overwhelm me. In case you couldn't tell." The king continued, letting out a laugh, but it was a weak laugh "I know what must be done though, if Kalera and Raven aren't found" Gwenn blew out a quiet breath. He may have been her father, but he also had a realm to rule and defend, order to restore and plans to put into place. "You're goin' ta be busy when ya get back te Delmaristead. I'll try not ta get in the way..."

"You, Gwenn. You are what I need." And this time when he looked at her, his gaze didn't waver. It wasn't cold though, and he tried to express as much compassion as he could. "If Raven and Kalera aren't found. . .you, Gwenn, will be my heir."

Gwenn blinked, a confused look crossing her face as she looked up at her father. Confusion quickly gave way to stunned surprise, the expression clearly reflected in her eyes as her brain tried to process the enormity of what she had just heard. For a long moment she was silent, the only sound between them was the rolling of the waves as they sloshed against the side of the side of the ship.
"Yer heir?" She finally choked out, disbelief evident in her voice. "I, I don't understand... “ Her mind was a whirlwind. A week ago, they were both unaware of each other’s existence, and now he was proposing this? “Why would ye do that?”

"The Delmari line ends with me, my dear. Of course, relations are spread throughout Mirwyth, but none who have lived their entire existence in the Isles, and understands Isles life as well as I know you do," Most of his tears had disappeared now, and inner strength was building. "You needn't worry about this now though. Raven could appear tomorrow, and everything would be right as rain. I pray she does. "Besides, I still have a good ten years in me at least!" The joke was as hollow as the breeze that blew that night, but Nathaniel said it anyways, "You needn't worry. As my maester always says, 'May the nymphs light our way'." The King chuckled lightly, though it soon faded back into silence. His eyes were cast towards the moon, and his lips barely moved. But they still did.

"If only nymphs still walked the world. . ."

Gwenn nodded her head slowly in understanding. “I hope the princess Raven will return ta ye safe, and yer wife also” She said quietly as her gaze fell onto the ocean once more. Across these wide and beautiful oceans was where a new chapter of her life would soon begin, what lay before her? She didn't know. She just had to ride the waves and see what the future would bring. “I’m sorry if I caused ye any trouble” she said in an apologetic tone, remembering the earlier incidents in Breezecroft. Despite her feelings about her departure, The talking had helped some. “Thank ye, yer gr…” She caught herself “…Father”

"No need to ever thank me," Nathaniel smiled at her, and even leaned down to offer her a light kiss on her hand, "Ever. You are my daughter. And that is all that matters." With that, he laid his hand lightly on her shoulder and led her below deck, "Come sup with me tomorrow morn. It'd be my first meal in awhile I might actually have with someone I like."

And with that he was gone.


TAG: spycoder9 ?

 

Lorain Ashkey - The Desert of Mirwyth
The Fair Groves, Kalkheim - 13 Days Before the Wedding

Lorain was grateful for Lady Spectra's words, but she was not thrilled that SHE would be the one telling Willis wife of his words. To receive such things from a stranger, was probably not something she would wished to hear, but Lorain had promised to do such, and she would fulfill her task. She gave a soft sigh, even as she looked down at Fleet. All of this was probably a bit much. Even she was amazed at how the Kildare spoke openly in front of them. That they had not sent them out while they spoke of family matters in front of strangers. Perhaps that was the way of the dessert nobles. It was the words of Aron Kildare that suddenly grabbed Lorain's attention once more, when he spoke aloud, in his booming voice. "Even if you are wrong about the name of the ship, you can still identify it, I know it," Aron said to Lorain, "I must ask of you that you go with my youngest son, Willis's brother, Ser Caliban, to rescue Willis. If you do, I personally promise that you will receive recompense for your actions."

Even though the thought secretly thrilled her that she could extract some sort of vengeance against the pirates who had captured her, and killed her Da, she was painfully aware at Fleet's immediate response to that announcement. He squeezed her hand, his face having suddenly gone pale. She even doubted that he was aware of the fact that his head was shaking 'no' as he looked up at her, desperately. Her heart plummeted, and ached then. She wanted revenge. She wanted to feel the satisfying crunch of bone, to wipe the smug look off those pirates, as they breached their ship. But she would not hurt Fleet just to satisfy her own thoughts of vengeance. But they would need her to assist in identifying the ship. What if their ship was boarded. But if they found the place they were stashing, she would not even have to leave the other ship. What to do? She had a child to look after now. That thought resonated within her mind. She never had that worry before. Sure, she had looked after her baby brother. But this was, different. She would have to make a decision.

Lorain vaguely heard as the others assured them they would receive financial reward for their actions, whatever path they took, when Aron spoke to her once more. "My wife is right--if you have words for my daughter in-law Aimee, take them to her. Has..." Aron turned with sudden realization to Zooey. "No one has told her. Not until we knew the extent of it," Zooey said, her face falling. Aron looked at Lorain. "Please...please," Aron said, his hard exterior beginning to crack, "Be gentle with her. This will come as a shock to her." Lorain nodded in understanding. "Aye, I'll be careful wif my words." Specra asked her to tell his wife that as rescue was being formed, and that Willis would be home soon. Lorain nodded but stayed silent. Could they not tell the poor woman themselves? Another soft sigh, as Lorain gently put her around around Fleets shoulders. Zooey continued to speak. "Regardless of whether you choose to accompany Caliban and the warriors," Zooey said to Lorain, "we will show our thanks to you for all have done. To all of you," she said to the whole group of travelers, She bet the men who had helped them reached the city, had any clue as to how much of an event this would turn into. She was glad they would be taken care of as well. Then Lady Zooey added, "But financial thanks shall be made. You are all welcome at Kalkheim for as long as it is convenient."

Lorain didnt say a word, but she did find that statement a bit, telling. As long as it is convenient? Convenient to who? That could mean many things, not all of them good. Then Zooey looked at Fleet, kneeling close to him. Lorain could feel Fleey move slightly, more towards her as Zooey put her face close to Fleet's. "We will keep you here, safe. It is the least we can do to one so alone in this world." A look of uncertainly flickered across Lorain's face. Separate her from Fleet? As she looked down, she saw the look of panic cross Fleet's face. He spoke, before she could even muster words.

“Nae…”

“I……I…..”

Lorain heard Fleet take a gulp of air. “I want to stay with Lorain.” He told them, holding Lorain;s hand. Lorain coudlnt have felt more proud right then, she wanted to hug him tight. But that would have to wait, for Fleet was still speaking. “I’m not alone when ‘m with her….” Fleet told them.

With her arms around Fleet, Lorain spoke up once more. "Before I decide what actions to take, I need to deliver da message to Willis wife, an' to speak to my young Ser first. I know time is essential, so I shall not keep ya waiting long." Lorain spoke in a steady tone. She would make no decision without Fleet's input. He had already gone through so much. She wanted to hear what he had to say, without having to make a immediate decision in front of everyone with little to no thought. No, this was much too important. But what was she going to say to him? Their current struggles had made their bond strong, she felt. But was it strong enough for what was to come?


TAG: greyjedi125, spycoder9

 

IC: Ser Lawrence Kildare
Tower of Stone, Shodaire, Mountains

Illiza just stared at Lawrence as he spoke. When he finished, she said nothing. She just watched him walk away and then proceeded to do the same herself, throwing a look over her should once as she receded down the hallway. After she had turned the corner, Lawrence closed his eyes and exhaled in frustration. With his open palm, he slammed the cold stone wall of the tower.

He had let his temper get the better of him. He shouldn't have taken that out on Illiza. He regretted what he had done with her, but that wasn't what he was truly angry about. It wasn't Illiza's fault--she didn't know what had happened. She didn't know that Lawrence was, in truth, no different than his brothers and sisters, perhaps even more generous to the priests and priestesses of V'hallr than they were. What had happened on that day, that day of flame, was not her fault. It would never be her fault. His moral failings with her aside, she had not deserved that.

Smooth Lawrence, he thought, Piss off the woman who's performing your wedding a few hours beforehand. Yeah, really smart.

Lawrence turned to head back to the tea tent and in doing so ran straight into three knights. The closest one blew by him, knocking Lawrence to the side. They continued on their way without even throwing a look in his direction. Lawrence opened his mouth to say something to his rude brothers of the sword, but he stopped short. Two of them wore the colors of the Delmaris, one the Moorecrofts. He wondered when they had arrived. In his robes of fur and warmth they probably thought he was one of the myriad of Mountainmen, not the Desert knight here to be married. How interesting it was that he could so easily become anonymous just by changing his clothes.

Dusting himself off, not due to any dust on his coat but more to regain his composure, Lawrence headed back out to the tea tent. Snow was being cleared and new tents erected, those with the Delmari anchor waving high above them. It seemed that these Islanders were recent arrivals.

"Forgive me, my ladies," Lawrence said, smiling as he stepped through the flap, "One must indulge the mistress of ceremonies for one's own wedding. Now, where were we?"

---

It was a few hours later that Lawrence found himself sitting anxiously in his quarters. Tea concluded, there was nothing to be done but to get dressed for the ceremony. The robes he had brought were fine white robes of the Desert style. They had known that things would be colder here, but Lawrence could feel the chill seeping through these lighter clothes. It seems that the tailors had not planned (or perhaps even conceived) of blizzard conditions for his wedding. Lawrence rubbed his hands together. He'd heard of grooms having club feet...but he hadn't expected to literally have them.

So now it was come to this. It was really happening. He was really getting married to a princess. When the ceremony was done they would feast and the next day begin the journey back to his homeland, to live happily ever after.

Except given what he was hearing about Fenton's men in the Mountains, he wondered what he'd be walking back to in Kalkheim, given its much greater proximity to the Capital. For all he knew, there would be men lying in wait for them on the journey back. Oh, and the woman who he had lost his virginity to a few weeks prior would be officiating at the wedding.

Yes, this was surely a fairy tale wedding.

TAG: spycoder9

 

OOC: The long flashback in this post is combined with spycoder9

IC: Safia Rolmar
The Mountains of Mirwyth
Shodaire, the Tower of Stone
Chambers—her wedding day

Safia still hadn’t moved from her bed, trying to recover from the shock of her brother storming out. He can’t possibly leave. He wouldn’t leave me. Not today. Not now. Not with everything that’s happening.

What was with her brothers today? Karridan was acting more paranoid than she had ever seen him, to the point that he might be willing to flee their home, might be willing to leave her. And Ectarion was being kinder to her than he had been in years.

Though they had drifted apart—rather drastically—in more recent years, there had been a time when she and Ectarion had been quite close, causing (and getting into) trouble together, sharing secrets…

---

14 Years Before the War of Many Kings
Shodaire Wood

"Safia, come on!"

As they ran down snowy embankments, between thick pines, and over fallen logs, Ectarion cast a glance behind him to see if his sister was still following. Her untamed blonde curls were bobbling over the top of a log as she pulled herself over it. While a wild little lady, even for her age, she looked the true embodiment of their mother.

That was why he must show her these things.

Even if that meant distracting her governess and sneaking her away from etiquette classes, which ensured most definite punishment later from Father. And Father was never a kind man with his punishments.

"Hurry up, Safia! Snails run faster than you," He stuck his tongue at her as he glanced at her over his shoulder, though it was not unkind. He even laughed some.

Six-year-old Safia scrunched up her face at her older brother, then stuck her tongue out at him. He had already turned back around and didn't see.

"Do not!" she insisted. Ectarion could be mean sometimes, but he could be fun, too, and this was certainly more fun than sitting quietly while Daizee tried to teach her how to act like a little lady. Boring stuff, as far as Safia was concerned, that involved sitting still and quiet and looking pretty and not speaking unless spoken to.

"Where are we going?" she called up to her brother as she ducked under a low-hanging tree branch.

"Someplace secret!" Ectarion lowered his voice then, and gestured for Safia to do the same.

They rushed forward several more minutes before Ectarion stopped abruptly, almost too fast for Safia. It seemed like she had almost caught up with him, even though he was three years older than she, before they had stopped. She almost ran right into him when he stopped so suddenly.

"Look. . ." He whispered, and pointed in front of him. It was a snowy clearing in a copse of trees, with a fallen log resting right in the middle. The log was hollowed out, and it was obvious things had been stored in the log. Odd trinkets and such. Even amongst the snowfall, beautiful snow-flowers with lilac blooms popped up here and there. It seemed to be oasis from the world around them. "Isn't it pretty?"

Ectarion stepped into the clearing and walked to the log. He reached his freckled arms inside of it and rustled around some. Safia sat down on top of the hollow log while Ectarion rummaged inside it, looking around at the pretty flowers that somehow managed to grow in this cold place.

"It's in here somewhere. . .I know it is. . ." He mumbled several times to himself. Once he pulled out a moldy piece of bread, snickered, and tossed it at Safia.

"Eww!" she squealed, even as she laughed. Who knew how long that had been there? She threw some snow at him in retaliation, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Where is it. . ." The little boy kept mumbling, until finally his hand found what it was looking for. His eyes lit up with excitement, and he jerked his hand out from the log.

"Lookie-here," He handed a locket to Safia. The chain was white as the snow, and resembled vines that were constantly interwoven. The centerpiece of the necklace was a light blue snowbird, like the House color of House Rolmar. White words were inscribed on it in a strange language, but of course neither one of the kids could read them. It was very pretty, and Safia wondered if it had been specially made for someone. She wished she could understand the words on it.

"It was Mother's." Ectarion was whispering again, though not for trying to stay quiet, but simply for lack of words.

She looked up at him, before looking again at the necklace. She had never seen anything that had belonged to Mother. Safia knew that her mother was dead, that she had died when Safia had been born, but not much else. No one much liked to talk about her mother. The first time Safia had asked her father why she didn't have a mother, he had gotten this sad-but-angry look on his face, and after that, she had stopped asking. "Where'd you get it?" she asked her brother as she turned the locket over in her fingers.

The snowbird looked like it might open up--there was a tiny hinge on the bottom wing, and it wasn't a solid piece of metal but two halves, joined at the hinge. Curious, Safia tried to wedge her fingernail between the two halves to pull them apart. "Is there something in it?"

"I stole it from Father. . ." Ectarion didn't even pause at the thought of it, "It opens. . ." He helped her with the hinge, and with some light force, popped it open. Inside, there was beautiful miniature painting of a woman and man, standing with hands enclosed. The man resembled their father greatly, albeit a younger version. They were surrounding by a snowy wood much like the one Ectarion and Safia stood in now.

She would have made some exclamation about him taking the necklace—Father would likely be very mad if he found out—but she was distracted when Ectarion managed to prize open the locket. The man in the tiny portrait looked like her father. And the woman—“Is that her?"

"I. . .I think so."

Safia studied the portrait. "She's pretty," she said.

"She looks so much like you." Ectarion reached over gently to take the locket back from her hands.

She frowned as she let him take the locket back. Much as she wanted to hold onto it, she didn't want Father to catch her with it. "Is that why Father looks at me that funny way sometimes?" she asked bluntly.

"Maybe," Ectarion seemed uncertain as he put the locket back into the log, "He's funny looking to begin with though."

She smiled a little bit. "Why? Because he's bald?"

"No, because of his beard." Ectarion laughed out, "You gotta promise you won't tell anybody about this place though. Father might get that locket, and he'd hide it from us, like all the rest of Mother's things."

"I won't tell," she promised. She leaned over to try to peer into the log. "What else have you got in there?"

"Bunch of stuff," He waved her face away, "Nothing as good as the locket though." Leaves rustled. Ectarion raised his head, frowned, and went back to speaking to Safia, "Maybe one day I'll let you wear it."

She heard the sound, too, but it was probably an animal. A few days earlier, while she'd been out with Karridan, they'd seen a raccoon up in the trees. "But then Father would find out that someone took it," she pointed out.

"Maybe by then, he won't care." Snow crunched then, softly. Besides that, it seemed like an absence of sound. No more birds tweeted, no squirrels scampered. It was almost completely silent.

Safia was beginning to wonder if maybe it wasn't an animal making the rustling sound after all. What if it was Father? She was supposed to be at her lessons, what if he had come looking for her? "I think someone's coming," she said, getting down off the log.

"Run, Safia," Ectarion hissed at her. "Run."

She didn't wait to be told again, but took off--not back the way they'd came, but to the side, planning to take a wide route back to the Tower. When she had gone a ways, she paused to look back and see if Ectarion was following.

He was following close behind her, but there was a snarling beast at his tail. Its eyes glowed golden, and its maw was open wide as it pounced and bounded after them. Though she had never seen one in person, Safia would know this was a wolf.

It wasn't Father, but it was something much worse. That wolf was almost as big as she was, and in that moment Safia had never been so scared in her life. She turned again to go in the direction toward the Tower and began sprinting as fast as she could.

"Safia!" Ectarion screamed out as he tripped over a root and tumbled into the snowy dirt. He bashed his cheek on the ground, and bit his tongue in the process, though he ignored all of that. His mind was focused on the growing grey mass rushing at him.

Hearing her brother shout her name made her turn back again, just in time to see him fall, with that beast practically right on him. For an insane moment, she almost started to go back toward him to try to help him.

"Sa-"

An arrow flew through the air and lodged into the wolf's side. The force of the blow knocked the beast off of its paws and into the brush. As it rose again, another arrow struck it. The wolf stumbled once before falling into a lump.

"You could've killed yourselves!" The black haired boy with a bow in hands strode from the darkness. "How foolish can you be?" It seems like his voice was aimed at Ectarion, instead of Safia. "What are you two doing out here alone?"

"I just wanted. . .to get her away from Daizee for a minute. . ." Ectarion rose quickly and brushed the snow from his breeches.

"You could've killed her too." Karridan yanked his arrows from the animal's side. Safia had never been so relieved to see him. "Why were you two out here, Safia?"

Ectarion looked at his sister then, gnawing his lips in hope that she would remember her promise.

Safia looked briefly from Karridan to Ectarion, then back again. "We were just walking...we heard something coming and we were going back to the Tower and then the wolf came and we ran and Ectarion tripped--"she was babbling by now and finally broke off, chin trembling and eyes brimming with tears of both fear and relief.

"Shh, shh," Karridan hurried towards her and wrapped her diminutive body in his arms. She only went up to his chest, so he had to lean down to hug her. "It's all okay now, Safia. It'll all be okay."

Ectarion was still standing near the wolf, eyeing the beast as if it might rise again to strike him.

"I can't believe you would take her out here, alone," Karridan snapped at their brother. "I thought you were smarter than that. If I hadn't been out here. . .I can't even begin to imagine..."

"You won’t tell Father, will you?" Ectarion asked.

"I should. . ." He wiped the tears gently from Safia's cheeks, "No, I won't. I should, but I won't."

She just clutched at Karridan, seeking the safety of her big brother's embrace. She didn't want her brothers fighting or arguing, right now she just wanted to go back to the castle, away from the wolf. Daizee's lessons didn't seem all that unappealing now; at least she'd be safe in there. As Karridan gently wiped her face, she pulled at his arm. "Can we go back inside now?"

"Yes, we can," Karridan smiled down at her, and messed with her hair playfully. As he began to lead her back, he gave a final frown to Ectarion. "For future reference, try to not kill our sister."

"I. . .I just wanted. . ." Ectarion fumbled over his words before finally growing silent. He followed behind them, but when Safia looked back over her shoulder at him, and he met her eyes again, there was something unspoken there.

Safia wasn’t entirely sure she liked it.

---

Present day
Chambers

True to his word, Karridan never told their father what had happened out in the woods that day, and their father never had found out about Ectarion’s stash in the hollow log, either. Safia had kept her promise and had never told anyone, though she and Ectarion did not talk much about it any more. They didn’t talk much about anything anymore, really. All we do is argue, really, and tear into each other. What is happening to my family? She and Ectarion barely got along (today of course being one of those extremely rare exceptions), and Karridan, her constant guardian, might have just deserted her. Her aunt and uncle were dead, and her soon-to-be father-in-law was the new king of the Desert, though her husband-to-be had no knowledge of it. And she couldn’t tell him.

It was all very overwhelming, and the one person she would usually go to for comfort was no longer there.

A knock brought her out of her thoughts, and she heard the door open, then Ectarion’s voice call her name.

“In here,” she called back, quickly wiping her face. She hadn’t realized until then that she’d actually started to cry.

TAG: spycoder9

 

13 Days Before the Wedding

The Desert of Mirwyth​

The Fair Groves​

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Kalkheim​

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"Very well," Zooey nodded and gestured to the guards who had accompanied the travelers into the room, "Take them to Aimee."​

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"She should be in the library," Lady Spectra said.​

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The guards led them back out the doors and through the halls again. The silence was strange, especially after the bickering between nobles. They came to two more large doors, though not as large as those that led into the Great Hall. One of the guards opened the doors wide.​

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Bookshelves lined the walls. Dusty tombs of days long past and people long dead filled them. A few cushioned seats lay at the center of the room, along with a wooden table large enough to support many books on. Only one of the cushioned seats were filled. In it, a petite woman sat with head bowed over paper.​

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"Milady," The guard murmured, "You have visitors." ​

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The woman raised her head from the parchment in her lap, brushing a string of her brown hair behind her ear as she did so. ​

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Her mouth turned up in a pleasant smile as she took into sight all of the visitors standing before her. Her eyes, abnormal in their warm iciness, rested on each of them for a second. They seemed to linger a moment longer on Fleet than they did on any of the others. As she folded up her papers, her eyes returned to the guard.​

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"Thank you," Her voice was quiet. With her brief nod, he stepped back a few steps, but never too far out of the way, "May I ask, good sers and mam, why you have come to see me in particular?"​

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TAG: Ktala, greyjedi125

 

IC: Abott Tuckman
The Naked Broad, Sailing by the Winter Bridge into the Capital of Mirwyth

Spreading his arms wide he stood at the very front of the ship, "King of the Trader's Ma." he simply stated as he held the pose and felt the breeze ruffle his beard. Looking up he caught the simple view of a bridge adorning a castle in the wood, it seemed like such a nice view he had to wonder if there were any truly built that way by those in the mountains, an idle thought but still it dredged up the curse within his blood to roil, that urge and need to be someplace new. With a sigh he lowered his arms and stepped away to head back to the poop deck. Only the rambunctious nature of the twins, who had nicknamed My Tie, after all they felt nearly like one half the time and made him want one the other, so it fit.

"Cool your heels, someone might think you hadn't seen land in a while." Abott simply stated as he brushed against the railing to avoid being ran into by the My Tie's deck work. Still he made it through and removing his hat with curls he mopped his brow with a rag that wasn't too filthy from his pocket. Seeing the look on Dim, whom he called. . .Dim, well when it fits, it fits; he sighed heavily, "Steady Dim."

As for 'He', well he liked to think of the face as Maw, or Face, but for the moment he was just glad not to spot the Maw in sight at the moment as he stepped up the steps to the poop deck. The Temptress yet held her court and all he knew to say was, "Captain, looks like we might get swindled." It was all that came to mind as the Trader looked at the port. If the deal went off without a hitch whoever gave them goods should look elated and the crew depressed at the exchange rate. That and saying anything positive at the moment would of made his superstitious self feel like he was inviting a sea monster to eat them or the King of succession to compel this craft into his Navy. Either way the sooner this solo run was through and he truly was the Admiral of the supplies mission he would be a happier Tuckman than now. Now was the riskier first steps.

TAG: spycoder9

 

OOC: Another combined with spycoder9

IC: Safia Rolmar
The Mountains of Mirwyth
Shodaire, the Tower of Stone
Chambers—her wedding day

"Safia. . ." Ectarion entered her room slowly, peeking his golden hair through first. His eyes wandered around until he found her, and then he opened the door wider, "I wanted to. . .have you been crying?" He stepped all the way in the room and shut the door gently behind him.

She'd been hoping he wouldn't notice. "I'm all right," she said. The words sounded hollow, though, and she didn't even believe them herself. If she couldn’t even convince herself, Ectarion certainly wouldn’t believe her either. "This day just keeps getting worse," she admitted.

Ectarion was silent for a few minutes, awkwardly standing near her, but not close enough to comfort her. Finally he made the distance and sat down beside her, reaching across to take her hand and squeeze it.

"I. . ." Words were a struggle, "I know. . .things may be hard. . .no, they are hard. . .but you are a strong girl. . .a strong woman." Ectarion smiled at her then, and patted her on the back, "I haven't been much of a help. . ." He sighed, "These past few years, I haven't been much of anything. . ." He shook his head. "I'm rambling. I just came in here to surprise you. . .with a gift." He fumbled around in his pockets. "Close your eyes, and face the mirror."

Given the way he usually behaved towards her, she was a little wary of 'surprises' from him, but since he had been nothing but kind to her today, she decided to give him the benefit of doubt and did as he instructed.

Something cool touched her neck. There was a slight clicking sound, and the coolness went all the way around her neck.

"Open your eyes."

When she did, her mother's locket, the one with the snowbird, hung from Safia's neck.

Safia's hand came up to touch the familiar pendant. She hadn't seen it since the day he'd first showed it to her, fourteen years ago, but she hadn't forgotten about it. He'd said he might let her wear it someday. It still looked exactly the way she remembered it.

"Thank you, Ectarion" she said, turning to her brother.

"You're welcome," His lips twitched in the faintest of smiles. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug he hadn't given in years.

She tensed just the slightest bit, for the briefest moment, when he hugged her--when was the last time he'd done that? But once it was clear that he wasn't going to hurt her (and yes, she did think he was capable, if he really wanted to), she relaxed and even returned the gesture.

When they let go of each other, she looked again at the locket, carefully turning it to examine the engraving. "Did you ever find out what these words mean?" she asked him.

"It's old," Ectarion shook his head, "The language itself, Maester Wilkins told me. It was with the First Men, when they came down from the Deep North. A few words we know, but these. . .I couldn't find out. Maybe you will, one day."

"Maybe," she agreed. "Maybe Father knows."

Speaking of which—“What am I going to say, when he sees me wearing this? The first thing he's going to say is 'Where did you get that from?'" She didn't want to tell her father that Ectarion had stolen it, all those years ago.

"I can promise you Safia," Ectarion looked her point blank in the eye, "Father won't say anything to you about that necklace."

Perhaps it was just the way he said it, but his words troubled her a bit. She did not need any more drama today. "Does he know that you had it, then?" She suspected not, but considering how unlike himself Ectarion was being today, maybe he had told their father about taking the locket.

Ectarion paused for a moment. "Yes. . .he does. He knows I have it," And then he stood from the bed. "I don't think there's much time left, until your wedding." He gave a faint smile again. "I hope you find happiness."

She returned his smile, standing up with him. She surprised herself--and probably him--by leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. She hadn't done that in years, either. "I think I will," she said. "Thank you again."

"Don't thank me," Ectarion said - a little too quickly, a little too sharply. The smile quivered for a moment, but he fought it back on his face. "You were meant to wear that." He finished with it there, and left the room then. Not angry, but rather fast.

And suddenly he was gone, and seeming a bit more like himself--not too much, but enough to make her a little worried.

Shaking it off, Safia looked again at her mother's locket, carefully prying it open to look again at the miniature portrait. It had faded a bit over the years, but there was still no mistaking her parents. She did look very much like her mother, she could see very plainly now. This was the only way she had ever seen her mother, the only way she would ever see her, a painted image on a tiny piece of paper. Had Corrine even seen her daughter, before she had died? Had she held Safia in her arms, even for just a moment?

Were you nervous, Mother? On your wedding day? You and Father had never even met, surely you were. She closed the locket and clutched it tightly in both hands.

I wish you were here.

Only a few minutes later, the door opened again, announcing the return of her female relations and friends, their arms laden with Safia’s cloak and veil. Sybella, Leenah and Helena gently, almost reverently draped the cloak around Safia’s shoulders, fastening the silver snowbird clasp at Safia’s throat. The seamstresses, it turned out, had not had time to make a cloak with the new Rolmar sigil on it, so Safia’s maiden’s cloak featured their traditional sigil, sky-blue velvet with the white snowbird. Previously, it had been Leenah’s bride’s cloak, and she had brought it with her from the Tower of Snow just in case. Caetherene and Celia, meanwhile, pinned Safia’s veil into her hair with a decorative comb. The veil was simple compared to the dress, made of thin, filmy white material with white ribbon edging, and it did not cover Safia’s face, but fell down her back to her waist.

If any of them recognized the locket, they did not say anything.

Finally, Safia was as ready for her wedding as she could possibly be (as far as getting dressed was concerned), and the others, after tearful embraces and encouraging words, left her by herself. Her brothers were supposed to come and get her and take her to the hall where the ceremony would take place. Well, Ectarion, anyway, was supposed to. She still didn’t know if Karridan had left or not, but given the way her day was going, she wasn’t very optimistic.

But it was her wedding day, and she was supposed to be happy. And Lawrence did deserve a happy bride tonight. It was not his fault that she was having an extremely difficult day, and so for his sake she would try to put aside her fears and worries and ignore the heaviness in her heart.

Hopefully he was having a better day than she was.

TAG: spycoder9

 

9 Days Before the Wedding

The Isles of Mirwyth​

The Teeth​

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The Golden Anchor​

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The next few days onboard the ship proved to be a much more enriching experience than the previous four.​

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The King invited Gwenn every morning and evening to eat with him, and during those times, regaled stories of his past and tales of his sailor days. Some of his stories involved creatures of fable, ensuring they were just imaginary tales of his own fashion. Some involved the water nymphs and their unearthly blue glow, as they led men to their destiny, while others featured golden phoenixes rising from the ocean and burning entire cities. Aside from the fictionary stories, he told grim thing of his own life. He spoke of his older brother's death, and his own rise to power. The pressures of marriage, and the hardships of pleasing his people. Of course, in the midst of all the tales, he always allowed Gwenn the chance to speak, should she choose to. He tried to prod information from her, ever so gently, such as her experiences on the docks.​

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He was as kind and friendly to her as a man could be.​

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A storm had rushed the ship as they neared Delmaristead. It splintered one of the smaller crafts tailing them and damaged another. The King had weathered the storm on the deck amongst the rest of his men. He ignored requests by his advisors to come below deck. He was a better man than that.​

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After the storm had passed, they had to navigate through the Teeth.​

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The King called Gwenn to come on deck with him, so that they might get a firsthand view of the Isles marvel.​

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"Legend says they're the teeth of the last snowdragon, the one ridden by Lady Iilia when she descended from the Deep Winter to burn the Isles," Nathaniel murmured to Gwenn as they crept between rocks and passes, "When Lady Iilia stormed the Isles, the Islanders prepared their weapons and launched warfare upon the Winter Witch and her beast. ​

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"The Lady would've won the war, just her and her dragon, had it not been for her pride. She descended from the beast, walked onto the Isles soil, and the men then seized her beast, attempting to drown it. They killed her then, simple blow to the head, as she never was a true warrior. Her dragon was furious and tried to freeze the Isles end to end, but without its master it lacked the control, and was taken as well, on the steppes of Delmaristead."​

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A dock-worker snickered, but kept his eyes on his work.​

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"Doubt the stories, do you?" Nathaniel looked to the man as well, "You'd do well to pay attention to tales. There is always a grain of truth in every fable." ​

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TAG: Jedi_padawan_leigh

 

Lorain Ashkey - 13 Days before wedding
The Desert of Mirwyth, The Fair Groves - Kalkheim


The Lazy Zooey finally responded to Lorain's request, as she looked towards the guards who had ushered them into the room, and ordered them to take her to someone called Aimee. "She should be in the library," Lady Spectra chimed in.

Lorain turned, following the guards as they were led back out the doors and through the halls again. Lorain welcomed the silence. She truly wanted to speak with Fleet, but with the desert nomads still tagging along, she did not wish to speak in front of them. WHY were they still following them? They had done their job, had made sure they had made it safely to the home of the Kildare's. So why were they still with Fleet and she? It is not like they had anything to add to the events. Perhaps they just wished to be paid. Or maybe they might also wish to know about the fate of their family as well. But she was just glad to be away from the nobles and their discussions. Soon, they came to two more large doors, though not as large as those that led into the Great Hall. One of the guards opened the doors wide.

"Oh my..." Lorain said softly as she looked around. Bookshelves lined the walls. Written works, more than Lorain had seen in her entire lifetime seemed to have filled the room. She knew how to read, as Da was quite firm in the fact that she would indeed need that skill, especially in dealing with customers. But she had never seen a room like this before. A few cushioned seats lay at the center of the room, along with a wooden table large enough to support many books on. Lorain stayed her hand, as she had almost instinctively reached out to let a finger touch one of the many books. She almost didnt see the young woman busy readying. Lorain gave a quick look around. She was glad she did not see any children immediately in the area. Lady Zooey had mentioned something about the woman having 2 children.

"Milady," The guard murmured, "You have visitors."

The woman raised her head from the parchment in her lap, looking up at Lorain and the others. She smiled.That was helpful. Lorain's mind scrambled to come up with words to tell this woman. Again, she wished she did not have an audience for all of this. Lorain refrained from giving a deep sigh. The woman thanked the guard, who stepped back but stayed within the room. She then looked to them once more, and asked.

"May I ask, good sers and mam, why you have come to see me in particular?"

Again, it was it to Lorain to deliver not so well news. But this was different. This time, it was to the mans wife. Lorain took a step forward, and bowed. "Excuse me, M'Lady." Lorain stated, as no one had exactly mentioned the woman's exact name or title to use. "Lady Zooey and Lady Spectra sent me." She suddenly wished she could sit down, instead of standing in front of this woman. But unless invited, it would most likely seem rather rude to do so, so Lorain pushed it out of her mind, and continued.

"My name is Lorain, an I was in da city of Caraba many days ago, when their port was attacked... by pirates." Lorain started. By now, she knew the woman was probably wondering what that had to do with her, so she continued on quickly. "I was captured, along with others, and while on board de pirate ship, I met someone. Ya Willis Kildare. But dont worry. He was unharmed and quite alive when last I saw him. They seemed to be collecting the menfolk along the coastline. He told me his name, and then helped to free me, and then asked me ta comes here." Lorain took a step closer, and bent down on one knee.

Lorain spoke to her, in a more hushed tone, so that only the lady could really hear her clearly. "He asked me to tell ya that he loves you greatly, and to say so to his children as well. And he also said that he would be home soon." "Even now, Lady Spectra and de others are planning a rescue for em, and de will be moving quicks." Lorain paused, giving her a small smile. "So I would not worry. He is smart. And he managed to keep his head so far. They considers him useful, so that helps." Lorain gave another bow and slowly stood up. "I hates to come with such burdens, but it is best ya knows."

Lorain stepped back to join Fleet once more, hoping that would be the last time she would have to re-tell the story for now. Right now, she really wanted a bit of alone time with Fleet. And she thought she had worries when she worked her craft. It was nothing compared to what these royals seemed to have to deal with. She was pretty sure that whatever happened, it was gonna be swift. And most likely deadly. Lorain gave Fleet a quick squeeze of his hand, as she waited


TAG: greyjedi125, spycoder9

 

IC: Fleet- Thirteen days before the wedding
Fair Groves, The Kalkheim

His head hurt. Fleet couldn’t think straight and was barely aware that they had been sent away. He was simply following automatically, his mind was elsewhere.

Why were they trying to separate them? Why were they trying to take Lorain away from him? He couldn’t understand. Things were beginning to look as if they were improving, despite life’s cruel turns…and now this?

A thought entered the urchin’s mind, before he dared to take a furtive glance at the uncle and nephew pair. Could it be? Could they’ve somehow payed the nobles to have him sold to them without Lorain’s knowledge or consent? He was familiar with this underhanded ploy, as he had seen it done before. Thankfully he’d been too skinny and useless looking to garner interest from prospective ‘buyers’.

No, that couldn’t be it…or could it? Nothing was making much sense.

The doors opened and now they were standing before another noble woman. Fleet managed a nod in greeting, but more for Lorain’s sake than his own. He wasn’t much caring for whatever was going on at the moment. At any other time, he would have been impressed by the sheer size and awesomeness of the Library, despite his abject illiteracy, but such was not the case presently. The woman was beautiful and her eyes reminded him of Kaili, but such details were lost to him in his emotional destitution. Lorain was speaking, telling the new noble woman something…Willis, it was the story of Ser Willis, the one Lorain was ordered to go off and rescue…the very reason for their impending separation.

No, he did not wish to part with the giant woman. Certainly there could be something, anything he could do to stay with her, to go with her…if it came to that.

".…Even now, Lady Spectra and de others are planning a rescue for em, and dry will be moving quicks.”

He had very little time to come up with a plan.

Fleet’s hand automatically found Lorain’s, and he was comforted by the squeeze she gave him. It lent him strength and courage. The young urchin looked up at her and gave her a slight smile, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness, mischief, anxiety and determination.

He had seen other boys doing this….carrying and ferrying belongings for others. What were they called? He couldn’t think of the word, but perhaps…just maybe, he could do that for Lorain. Maybe that would work.

Gods old and new, please let it work.


Tag: Ktala, spycoder9

 

OOC: Going back in time a little bit in this combined with our GM.

IC: Safia Rolmar
The Mountains of Mirwyth
Shodaire, the Tower of Stone

Chambers—6 days before the wedding

Safia’s ankle was almost completely healed, and now that she was able to function on an almost normal level, she was making up for lost time with her seamstresses, and had just spent the better part of the day, including meals, in the dressing room as they adjusted her nearly-finished wedding gown to fit her slender form. As a result of standing on that stool all day, her ankle was just a little sore, so now that the day was done, she was relaxing in her own chambers, sitting in front of the hearth with a book and a hot cup of tea and wrapped up in a warm shawl. After the seamstresses’ fussing and chatting, she was glad to have a little peace and quiet—

Even if it was just for a moment. A knock on the door broke the silence. With the wedding now less than a week away, she was unhappily becoming used to interruptions. “Come in,” she said, loudly enough to be heard on the other side.

Rarely ever did Desmond Rolmar feel nervous. Usually he could keep an unwavering calm about him. But when speaking to his daughter, he always could feel a queasiness in his stomach. An uncertainness in his heart. When he opened the door at her signal, and saw her sitting relaxed in front of the fire, he regretted coming.

"It's just me." He chuckled a little at saying that. Never had Desmond been a 'just me' kind of person. "I came to see how your ankle was healing. Well, I hope?"

Safia nodded as she set down her book and gave her father a welcoming smile. "A little sore, but other than that, yes."

"Good," He walked over slowly, finally sitting down near her. "Very good. I still can't understand how Ser Lawrence could let you get damaged, especially on your first day getting aquainted."

Her smile fell, and she found herself shaking her head. "It was not his fault, Father. He did not know the danger, nor did it cross my mind when we went out. I wish you wouldn't hold it against him."

"It's hard not to. But I will try." He smiled again, and pushed a strand of her hair from her face. "Your mother would be proud of the lady you have become."

Her smile returned at first, but it faded just a bit at the mention of her mother. "I wish she were here now," she said.

"She almost is, in a way. I see so much of her in you." And though he said it fondly, there was a hardness to it.

She averted her eyes, staring into the flames in the hearth instead. Despite the warmth of the fire and the shawl around her shoulders, she felt the underlying chill in his words. I'm not her. I may have her eyes and her hair, her lips and her chin...I didn't make myself this way. I didn't ask to look just like her. Do you resent me, Father? Do you hate me for looking like her? Do you hate me for causing her death? Would you rather have her here than me?

One day, perhaps, she would get up the courage to ask such things, but that day was not today. "I suppose...but it's not the same."

"I suppose not." Desmond couldn't find the courage to meet her eyes. "She always seems to be with me. At the corner of my mind, on the edge of my thoughts. I hope you can find love like that."

I did, but you took him away. But could she honestly say that she still loved Matheus? That relationship seemed so far away now, yet it had only ended just a few months ago. Did it even matter? And as for Lawrence, she did like him; perhaps with time she could love him. But can he love me? "Maybe. Time will tell."

"How do you like the desert fox?"

"I do like him," she replied after a moment's consideration. "He seems like a good man. Honest, dutiful, kind..." Lawrence possessed many of the same qualities that Matheus had, but unlike the prince, Lawrence seemed more conscious of the harsher realities of the world. "I don't think I can say more than that, having only known him for six days." Less than that, really, when she considered how much time she and Lawrence had actually spent together over those days.

"He is a good man." Desmond did meet her eyes now, and his heart flushed with such emotion. A flurry of thoughts and feelings all uniting inside of him. Would Corrine respect him? For his decisions? "I do everything because I love you, Safia. And I want you to be happy."

"I know," she said. Once again, a smile came over her face. "As long as there's no truth to anything Synthia says, I'm not too worried," she added, trying to lighten the mood a little. Truthfully Safia wasn't all that concerned about her cousin's gossip anymore, and she certainly wasn't going to let mere rumors ruin a potentially happy relationship with Lawrence.

"And what all did your cousin say?" Desmond knew the girl was a big mouth, and that could be useful at times. But he didn't need her spouting rumors to worry Safia.

She shook her head dismissively. "Stupid rumors about Lady Emilie's death, some less-than-friendly comments about Lawrence's siblings. Nothing I'm inclined to believe, considering the source."

"I wouldn't, if I were you. The Kildare women are. . .strong willed. Very opinionated, but that is good in some ways." Unless you should ever face their wrath. . . "I'm going to make sure you are well and protected. Wherever that may be. I will be dead before someone lays a hand on you." And his smile dimmed some. "I believe you will find that with Lawrence." Lying to your own daughter.

"I think so, too."

"Well," Desmond rose from his seat. "I better get back. Birds keep flying in. From my understanding, Lord Cyrell is one of the deceased."

Again, Safia's smile vanished. Her father had already told her about the battle in the Bloodsoaked Wood. All of the invading Capitalmen were dead, but so too were numerous Mountainmen, among them her legitimized half-blood cousin Rowan. Her uncle Lord Fredrik, however, had survived. "Does Lady Cyrell know yet?"

"She doesn't. And I dread telling her." Desmond knew the woman. A weepy, wallowy sort. One that wouldn't get over this easy. He hated the kind. "But it most be done."

Safia was silent a moment, before another thought came to her. "What about Michael, their son?"

"I'm not for sure of his fate. Birds just keep flying reporting deaths and survivals one by one. Your uncle's survival is one I was pleased to hear."

She nodded in agreement. "So was I. But Rowan..." she trailed off, staring at the fire again for several moments before returning her gaze to her father. "Would you please give Lady Cyrell my condolences when you speak to her, Father?"

"I would be proud to." He leaned down and kissed her once on the cheek. "Don't worry about the future. I will make sure you are able to live a happy life you want to." Desmond then made his way to the door.

"Thank you, Father." Safia pulled her shawl a little tighter around her and picked up her book again. "Good night," she added as her father made his way to the door.

Desmond opened the door, casting his daughter a glance backwards once more. For a moment, she looked just like her mother. Sitting there, book in hands, resting. The very thought of it all made a small smile light up his face.

"Good night." He quietly shut the door.


TAG: None

 

13 Days Before the Wedding

The Desert of Mirwyth​

The Fair Groves​

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Kalkheim​

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"Oh."​

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It was all she said. She looked hesitantly from Lorain to the others. To the child. Her eyes continued to stay on him until her eyes grew mistier. They quivered once or twice, and then streams of tears began to run down her cheeks. She made no attempt to stop them, besides a gentle brush of her hand. ​

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“Milady,” Ersha Dershala stepped forward and then down on one knee, “I understand your suffering firsthand. My wife, she was taken as well, by pirates. These very same pirates, if I believe it true. You cannot let the grief consume you, at least not for your children’s sake. I know this woman,” He looked back up to Lorain, “She is capable of rescuing him, even if she were alone."​

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Aimee nodded through her tears, and even a reassuring smile broke through.​

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“Your husband will be returned home to you before you can bat another eyelash,” Ersha returned her smirk and stood up. ​

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“Thank you. . .” Aimee spoke again, “All of you, for bringing this news to me. I know. . .I know Will. . .He’ll be in good hands.” She stared at Lorain.​

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The guard led the quartet outside the library doors and shut them behind him. ​

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“You may return to your quarters, or you can take advantage of Fair Groves life,” The guard said, “Whichever you choose, remember Milady Zooey’s words.”​

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“I think Uncle and I would like to venture the town,” Hatibe nodded. ​

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“Thank you,” Ersha turned to Lorain and Fleet, “You have provided us with an adventure of a lifetime. Perhaps we’ll cross paths again one day.” ​

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The Desertman tipped his head at them before he and his nephew followed another guard away. ​

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“As for you two?” The guard said once they had gone.​

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TAG: Ktala, greyjedi125

 

Lorain Ashkey - The Desert of Mirwyth
The Fair Groves, Kalkheim - 13 Days Before the Wedding


Lorain mentally sighed, as the woman grew distressed. Lorain was not good at delivering such news. When the Lady's eyes turned and locked on Fleet, the tears really began to flow. As Lorain gave Fleet another gentle squeeze, she watched as Ersha stepped forward and went down on one knee in front of the woman.

“I understand your suffering firsthand. My wife, she was taken as well, by pirates. These very same pirates, if I believe it true. You cannot let the grief consume you, at least not for your children’s sake. I know this woman,” He looked back up to Lorain, “She is capable of rescuing him, even if she were alone."

By all the Gods!! She was being tasked already, though she had not said a thing, nor made her decision. Lorain nearly choked when he claimed her able to rescuing Willis alone. But Lorain only nodded, at least trying to look confident even as Aimee nodded back in response. Ersha even got the woman to smile a small bit.

“Your husband will be returned home to you before you can bat another eyelash,” Ersha returned her smirk and stood up. “Thank you. . .” Aimee spoke again, “All of you, for bringing this news to me. I know. . .I know Will. . .He’ll be in good hands.” She stared at Lorain. Lorain felt her neck grow warm. Oh Lor, the Gods were having another laugh at her expense, Lorain felt. The way the woman looked at her, Lorain suddenly felt very uncomfortable, so she was relieved when the guard who led them there, led them quickly back outside the library doors.

“You may return to your quarters, or you can take advantage of Fair Groves life,” The guard said, “Whichever you choose, remember Milady Zooey’s words.” Lorain gave a soft snort. Like she had a choice. The two men spoke rather quickly. “I think Uncle and I would like to venture the town,” Hatibe nodded.“Thank you,” Ersha turned to Lorain and Fleet, “You have provided us with an adventure of a lifetime. Perhaps we’ll cross paths again one day.”

Lorain turned and gave him a proper nod of her head. "Thanks de, fer guiding us here. Perhaps da next time we meet, it will be for something more pleasant, yes?" Lorain smiled as the Desertman tipped his head at them before he and his nephew followed another guard away. “As for you two?” The guard asked fleet and her. Lorain looked down at Fleet, giving him a smile before looking back up towards the guard. "I think I've had enough of walking and standing for now, and I needs to speak to my young Ser, so we wish to returns to our quarters, thank you." Lorain held on to Fleets hand, trying to reassure him, while they walked back towards their quarters. What was she going to say, or even DO for that matter? For the first time since all of this had started, Lorain felt a bit overwhelmed. Maybe it was just meeting too many royals in one day. Either way, she hoped she could calm down enough to decide what to do. She knew what she wanted to do. She also knew she had to consider many other factors. There was so much at stake here. For both of them.





TAG: greyjedi125, spycoder9

 

IC: Fleet - Thirteen days before the wedding
Fair Groves, The Kalkheim

Finally they were alone and away from the general din of the Kalkheim. For the first time in his young life, Fleet had witnessed things he had only experienced in dreams and never truly imagined he would experience them in real life - for what kind of circumstances could an urchin find himself in, that would bring him before nobility.

Well, now he knew- very complex circumstances.

As the pair found places to sit in the small and spartan room they'd been given, the young urchin looked at Lorain. The mask of serenity slowly vanishing as recent events played once again in his mind, stirring up a myriad of conflicting emotions and feelings, confusion being the chief of them.

What were they going to do?

Fleet got up from his seat and walked over to Lorain and gave her a long and sustained hug. He had not the words to express any of what was going on inside him.

“I wanna go with yu…” He finally said in an audible whisper. His eyes were closed as he held Lorain close. Lorain and Kaili had managed something no one else had. They had managed to get inside, managed to get past his barriers. Before meeting either of them, Fleet had come to accept that he was alone in the world…a disposable thing. But all that had changed now. He had experienced genuine kindness…and there was no coming back from that.

“You’re mah only fam’ly…”

After a moment, the young boy let out a long sigh. A mountain of fatigue seemed to be coming over him, so he let go of the giant woman and took a few steps back, but did not retreat to his chair.

“I’ll do whatever yu wants….just, let me stay with yu….”

His eyes were red and almost pleading, but he was trying very hard to be brave. Kaili had found him right as he’d given up on life, she’d brought him back from the very brink and saved his life twice. And now Lorain had done the same. The gods had brought them together, why would they want to tear them apart now?

That thought was too harsh to contemplate, so Fleet looked down at his feet, and tried his best to stop himself from trembling.


Tag: Ktala, ( spycoder9)

 

Lorain Ashkey - The Fair Groves, Kalkheim
13 Days Before the Wedding


Lorain was finally glad to be away from the others, and to simply have just Fleet and herself for the moment. She had never had to deal with so many royals in her life, not to mention the situation that was growing increasingly difficult to weight. And poor Fleet looked a deer caught in a snare. She did not think his eyes could get any wider. But he had remained quiet, and she could wonder about the questions that bound to be whirling about in his head. Lorain slowly moves over and sits on the edge of the bed, looking over to see that Fleet was watching her.

Fleet got up from his seat and walked over to Lorain and gave her a long and sustained hug. Lorain returned the fierce hug, as she gently ruffled his hair. She knew this had to be hard on him, heck she was barely understanding it all herself. Then, she heard Fleets voice. It was so soft and faint, but the words were clear as a bell in the silence within the room.

“I wanna go with yu…” His eyes were closed as he held on to her, as if she thought she might suddenly melt away. But she held on to that hug, as he continued to speak. “You’re mah only fam’ly…”

Oh lor! How had this young Ser get so far into her heart? It was heartbreaking to hear his plea. He was worried that he was going to be alone again. It made Lorain think of her younger brother once more. Fleet deserved so much more. He didnt need to be cast off yet again. Even if it was to protect him, he would never see it that way. He would see it as being cast off, yet once more in his young life. To be left alone. And with strangers! Even worse. She could not...no, she WOULD not do that to him. It could possible be the thing that broke him. And she could not bare to be away from him as well. And that he had called her HIS family, how could she leave him to suffer being alone once more?

Lorain felt Fleet, as the young boy let out a long sigh, as if the weight of the world was coming down around his shoulders. Slowly, Fleet let go of her, and took a few steps back, but did not retreat to his chair. The look on his face nearly killed her. Eyes, wide and red, tears barely being contained. His look was one of desperation. Lorain could barely contain the emotions she was now feeling, as she looked at Fleet.

“I’ll do whatever yu wants….just, let me stay with yu….” Fleet pleaded to her, looking at her with a look that Lorain was finding it hard to keep her own emotions in check. When Fleet looked down at his feet, trembling, his tiny body working so hard to control itself. As if he was just waiting for the horrible words he did not want to hear break him yet again. Too afraid to look up her. Not wanting to feel his heart wrenched by bad news once more. Lorain felt a lump rise in her throat, as her own eyes began to mist.

"Oh, Fleet." she said softly, her voice wavering, as she slipped off the foot of the bed, on her knees in front of Fleet, scooping him up once again in a powerful hug, her own tears running freely. Lorain continued on. "Do ya thinks I would leave ya wif folks I dont know? I said you was mines, an I meant it. Every word of it." She let him go, and pulled back. She gently reached down and lifted his chin, so he would look at her. "I says, I stay with you, as long as ya wants, and that I take you as my own, didnt I? I promised you that. An by the Gods, I keeps my promises, or else I woudlnt be here." Lorain gives a deep sigh, as she gently lets go of Fleet's chin, giving him a gentle smile and a wink. "So, I guess that leaves me with the question, do I go on the ship?"

Lorain leaned back, looking over at Fleet. "I know ya not too happy wif that idea. But the man who freed me from my chains, needs my help. An, these breathern of the sands, de needs me ta point out the ship for em. But dat dont mean we have to leave the ship. We can stay on board the other ship, an stay pretty safe i thinks. But its not just me anymore now. I haves me a son to look after now. So, I wants to hear what you think, Fleet." There. She said it. A son. Fleet was now a part of her, as if any child she would give birth to. They shared blood. The blood they had sweat and lost, when their paths joined to become one.

Lorain did have other worries as well. As friendly as these people were so far, she was not sure how friendly they might stay, if she did not go and help them. She also worried about those knights. Leaving the oasis of Fair Groves might be difficult if they were still out there in the sands. Running into them, would be a death sentence. They needed a safe port. At least until she could figure out a safe way home. And poor Freedom could not carry them that far out. Not without major supplies. And if war was coming, she did not want to be caught unawares. But she would not mention war to Fleet. Not just yet. He had enough already on his shoulders. Lorain sat on the floor next to Fleet, and patiently waited for him to have his say. With all the running and hiding and traveling, on this, she would wait for a response.





Tag: greyjedi125, ( spycoder9)

 

IC: Fleet - Thirteen days before the wedding
Fair Groves, The Kalkheim

Tears fell from his eyes and streaked down his cheeks, but he was smiling. The words that flowed from Lorain filled his heart with a joy he could hardly recognize, for in truth, he’d never truly experienced it.

“I said you was mines, an I meant it. Every word of it.” I says, I stay with you, as long as ya wants, and that I take you as my own, didn’t I? I promised you that. An by the Gods, I keeps my promises, or else I wouldn’t be here.”

If the giant woman had asked him to jump into a freezing river at that very instant, Fleet probably would have. That’s how happy he was. No one had ever accepted him this fully, this wholly. He could see the truth of it in the depth of her very eyes, in the sound of her very voice. It was enough to make a young urchin sing -if he knew how.

Fleet blinked away the tears as his smile turned into a huge grin. On impulse, he gave Lorain another big hug, then stepped back and continued to listen.

“So, I guess that leaves me with the question, do I go on the ship?”

Lorain posed a good question, which brought a measure of sobriety to the moment.

As long as I’m with yu, I don’t much care where we are… Fleet wanted to blurt out, but managed to hold his tongue. It was rude to interrupt someone when they were speaking, especially about important things.

“I know ya not too happy wit the that idea,” Lorain began to say as she leaned back. “But the man who freed me from my chains needs my help. An, these brethren of the sands, dey needs me ta point out the ship for ‘em. But dat don’t mean we have to leave the ship. WE can stay on board the other ship, and stay safe I thinks. But its not just me anymore now. I have a son to look after now. So, I wants to hear what you think, Fleet.”

The young urchin could hardly hear her at the moment. His mouth had fallen open and he looked thunder struck. He gazed at her in abject incredulity for the briefest moment.

'I haves me a son to look after now.'

The words had struck him like lighting…lightning that galvanizes, the type of lightning which brings that which is merely existing -into life.

Fleet never knew what a mother was, but he had seen them out there, at the market, out in the park, playing with their sons, walking, talking, smiling happily. He had always envied those other lads and lasses. They had something precious, something a discarded and unwanted boy, and orphan, an urchin, could never hope to have or experience. He could only dream and pretend, until pretending became nothing more than self-torture.

With but a few words, Lorain had granted him a secret wish she could not have known he’d made night after lonely night. A wish that had finally come true.

Fleet threw himself at the woman’s neck and wrapped his arms around her and held on for dear life. Too many years had he waited for this unreal moment that only existed in dreams. So he sobbed freely, allowing himself to finally feel the truth. He was no longer alone, and someone…no, not someone -Lorain- cared enough for him, deep enough to call him son.

The moment lasted as long as it needed, then after he gained his composure, Fleet stepped back and cleaned his face with the front of his tunic. He blew his nose too, then smiled sheepishly and gave a chuckle.

“ I have a ‘Ma now…” He declared, looking up at Lorain with a smile and reddened eyes. He was feeling so tired now, but oh so very happy. Inwardly, he was feeling like a new person, as if he’d just begun to breath…for the very first time.

He liked how the word sounded. ‘Ma. The word was powerful and was possessed of deep meaning. Mere moments ago, he couldn’t tell anyone what the word truly meant, other than the obvious ‘blood relation’. Hmph. Blood. He didn’t even want to think about that.

“ I understand…”Fleet said, finding his voice again after a long pause. “ About the boat, and Ser Willis.”

Fleet stood up a little straighter now.

“I want to go with yu…..” he asserted once again, but then another thought entered his mind. He didn’t like it, but now he didn’t have to keep such things to himself, now that his relationship with Lorain had evolved. Life was truly a strange journey that only got stranger.

“If yu want me to stae here, I’ll stae if ya asks me to.” Fleet’s cast his eyes down uncomfortably and shifted in place, he didn’t want to think himself as a liability, but he had to be honest ith himself and…‘Ma Lorain. He was no warrior. At least not yet. “I don’t want t’get in the way. I’m no soldiur, but I kin learn.”

That was a pleasing image in his head. Not so much that he could do combat, that was always a must, but being a skillful and independent man, someone who could aid others, just as he had been helped, THAT was more desirable to him.

“Sir Willis needs yu, the nobles need yu. The old sage says ‘return kindness for kindness’, or som’then like it. He also says to bring ‘justice to the lawless’…. I think that’s how it goes….”

Fleet chuckled at his failed attempt at imitating the street sages. He listened to their banter from time to time, but not as often as he should have.

“I have a ‘Ma now, and I do whatev’r she says…”

The now ‘adopted’ boy beamed a bright smile at the giant woman. How interesting that a small act of love could have such a significant effect upon a life. Already, Fleet was acting a bit different. He seemed genuinely happier as unseen wounds of the heart began to heal.

Tag:Ktala (spycoder9)


OOC: I think this story is writing itself!

 

IC: Gwenn Cliffe
The Golden Anchor / The Teeth


After the king had concluded his seemingly ever-lasting meeting, Gwenn started to see more of her father over the next few days. Every morning and evening he invited her to take meals with him, during which, he regaled her with stories and tales that he had learnt on his travels, some were accounts from his sailor days, but a lot were fables, full of creatures of myth and imagination. He was enthusiastic and animated in his telling of them, and Gwenn couldn’t help but get drawn into the stories. He also spoke of trying and difficult times on his life, the pressures of ruling his kingdom and the loss of his brother. It appeared Nathaniel had not had the easiest time on the road to becoming a king…

Nathaniel also gently fished for information about her life and experiences on the docks. The newly healed whip marks on her back itched at the mention of her former job. The feeling reminded her that the man who had subjected her to that punishment was currently a part of the king’s fleet. At least he wasn’t stationed on the king’s flagship; a small mercy…As the days went by Gwenn found talking to Nathaniel easier, the patience and kindness he showed her made it easier to open up more when conversing with him.

A storm had hit the fleet on the approach to Delmaristead, and Gwenn had been advised to go below deck until it passed. Not that it made much difference, the increased rocking and swaying of the cabin had Gwenn’s stomach churning despite the woman’s efforts to will the feeling away. She managed to spare herself the indignity of losing her breakfast all over the cabin floor, but a crewman had commented she looked a bit “Green around the gills” when he came to announce the worst of the storm had passed. The king called her up on deck and she glanced about the ship, taking in a breath of much needed fresh air. It seemed the kings ship had made it through the storm pretty much intact, but according to a couple of deck hands the same could not be said for a couple of vessels in the kings fleet. She found her father easily enough; the man had been on deck during the storm, despite the protests of some of his advisors. Gwenn had to admire him for that. He had been a sailor first after all.

Joining him at the ships rail, the king pointed out a landmark, what he called “The teeth” Gwenn leant against the rail of the ship, taking in the view of colossal jagged rocks. Seaweed and limpets stuck to them, the ocean had clearly left its mark on each of the “teeth” The ship crept slowly between the rocks and passes. These rocks, like any other obstacle at sea, could do further damage to the fleet is they were not careful, and Gwenn didn’t fancy swimming the rest of the way to Delmaristead…She listened as the King told her the legend behind the stony structures. He told a tale of the winter witch Iilia who attacked the isles with the aid of a snowdragon. The islanders had taken up arms to defend their homes and slain both beast and rider due to the winter witches pride…. The legend said that the teeth were actually from the snowdragon the Iilia had commanded.

“…killed her then, simple blow to the head, as she never was a true warrior. Her dragon was furious and tried to freeze the Isles end to end, but without its master it lacked the control, and was taken as well, on the steppes of Delmaristead."

The king finished. The sound of a snigger caught Gwenn’s ear and she glanced to the side, the king must have heard it too as he addressed a member of the crew. "Doubt the stories, do you?...You'd do well to pay attention to tales. There is always a grain of truth in every fable."

"Snowdragon? Hm… Dunno much ‘bout dragons, thought they only breathe fire…” She mused quietly. Thinking back to some of the tales he had told her during meals, what if there was a grain of truth in those tales too? Perhaps the oceans were once occupied with fantastical phoenixes and magical water nyphs once upon a time, before the people of Mirwyth walked the world. Glancing at her father a small grin quirked at the corner of her mouth “Next you’ll be tellin’ me ye got the dragon’s skull hangin’ above yer fireplace or somethin’”


TAG: spycoder9

 

Lorain Ashkey - 13 Days before wedding
The Desert of Mirwyth, The Fair Groves - Kalkheim

Lorain could feel the flow of tears from Fleet, but she simply held him, and stayed silent for the moment. She saw Fleet blinked away the tears as his smile turned into a huge grin. Then he gave her another smile. When she mentioned the ship, Fleet had a look she coudlnt quite read on his face. But then suddenly she wondered if she had said something wrong, because the look on his face suddenly changed again. His mouth had fallen open, and he looked like he had just gone into shock.

"Fleet?.." Lorain asked worried if anything was wrong, when suddenly Fleet threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her and held on for dear life. He sobbed freely, and Lorain simply wrapped her own arms around his small frame, and hugged him tightly, letting him release his emotions. She joined him, letting her own tears flow along side his. Fleet was her son now. And she wanted that emotion to last forever. After what felt like both too soon, and forever, Fleet stepped back and cleaned his face with the front of his tunic. Lorain laughed softly, as Fleet chuckled.

“ I have a ‘Ma now…” He declared, smiling up at her. Lorain smiled back, and nodded. “ I understand…” Fleet told her. “About the boat, and Ser Willis.” Lorain grinned. Fleet was growing up quickly. But not too quickly, Lorain hoped. And hearing him call her 'Ma', she could only smile. Now she understood that smile that would cross her mothers face from time to time.

“I want to go with yu…..” Fleet told her once more. But then he added, “If yu want me to stae here, I’ll stae if ya asks me to.” Fleet’s cast his eyes down. He looked uncomfortable, and shifted in place. “I don’t want t’get in the way. I’m no soldiur, but I kin learn.” Lorain felt so proud of Fleet. For him to tell her that, she knew it took all of his courage for him to admit it. He was trying to be strong. To be strong for her. He continued, “Sir Willis needs yu, the nobles need yu. The old sage says ‘return kindness for kindness’, or som’then like it. He also says to bring ‘justice to the lawless’…. I think that’s how it goes….” Fleet chuckled. “I have a ‘Ma now, and I do whatev’r she says…” he added, growing serious once more. Lorain whispered softly to Fleet, "I needs ya to. Dont forget that." she told him.

Lorain gently ran her fingers through Fleet's hair as she listened to him. "When did ya gets to be so smart?" she told him, smiling. "Nah. Ya always been smart, my little Ser". She looked him over, gently reaching over and whipping his face with a corner of her robe. She gave another sigh.

"Wells then. I guess that means I am going on a boat.." she paused a moment, then smiled brightly over at Fleet. "I means, WE be going on a boat then. You cant learns da way of life, hiding behind walls." Lorain told him with a gentle smile. "An I'd be too worried about ya, if I dont know what's happening where ya be. I need ya wif me. Ya smarts in ways that Im not. Yer quick on yer feet, and ya eyes see things I dont. We can watch each others back." Lorain have him a nod. "We are strong together. But.." Lorain held up her hand. "I wont lie to ya Fleet. I knows ya have seen lots. But pirates, they are a ugly lot. Cruel. Nasty. But I think ya knows that. I know that orphans see horrible things. But I promise, I'll protect ya best I can. And I'll teach ya what ya needs to know." Lorain moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and patted the end, inviting Fleet to join her.

"Wise sages talk about doing stuff. But its up to people like us, ta actually do it. My Da, he would charge the nobles money to make shoes for their horses, but he would patch a neighbors pot for free, cause he knew it was the only thing they had to cook food for their children." Lorain gave a sad smile. "Ya would have liked him. He taught me one most consider men work, cause he knew I could do it. It sang to me, and I liked working with metal..." Lorain paused, thinking back of her father. She then looked down at Fleet and smiled once more. "So..now I gots to ask ya. Fleet, you ever been on a boat before?" she asked with a smile.




TAG: greyjedi125, (spycoder9)

 

IC: Ser Aran
Castle Reyneer, Capital
Present

Aran dropped the brush again, hugging the horse around the neck as much to hold himself up as anything. Its wet plop into the bucket below sounded faint against his steed’s desperately puffing nostrils, now only a few inches from his own face. He knew that he should stop and let the stable hands take over. But after any momentous battle, you needed a moment to ground yourself again. He also felt the stallion and his master ought to share the afterglow just as surely as they’d plunged through the fire together. This was especially bizarre, though. Trying to normalize the whole thing was fundamentally absurd. Especially when he couldn’t hold his hand steady enough to wipe the blood from his steed’s neck. And the most daring battle of his life was ultimately just Fenton’s joke for and on an audience of one. Perhaps it could be a good laugh for the two of them to look back on? One absurdity after another.

The good warrior can burn through a half dozen different versions of what was supposedly the same exploit in only two retellings. They almost certainly will, in fact. Just make sure the hearth is warm enough, and the ale is flowing freely. It was a great topic of japes for the silk-shirted lords of this realm. For the children of the Open Sky as well, though at least there’s were a bit wittier. Or his had been, he liked to think. Regardless, they’d stopped quickly. It only took one battle to understand. The way the rush of the whole thing warps you. How it sharpens your eyes and twists your heart. How you keep fighting in the vain hope it’s not delirium, because the crossbow bolt you felt shear through every layer of your armor and clothing may somehow not have planted inside you after all. How you can’t recreate the smoothest blow of your life, because reflex planted your blade six inches deep in the man’s forehead before you even registered he was there. The plainly impossible exploit you throw into justify winning a duel, because you saw how much better the guy was when he was riding you down, and know that without the embellishment your victory was too impossible to accept, even standing alive before them. He knew it. But how do you explain that?
***
Capitol Streets

Two Hours Ago

The stallion reared more wildly than ever, his brays a death knell. It dragged his hips forward in single, sharp, bounding twist inward, while momentum sheered his torso in the opposite direction. For one vertiginous moment he was parallel to the ground, horse’s tail whipping against his face, broadsword pulling him perilously outward. His hand opened instead. It clapped down on the reins. The blade, freed, clanged against something. He didn’t dare look. It was pointless. Then he was dropping. Like the pit in his stomach. Rushing down. About to hit. . .nothing?

He didn’t know he’d closed his eyes until they peeled slowly open. He only looked to the reins. Move them, and an uneven canter might become wild bucking. The reverse had just happened. His still-exploding heart said so. So did the larger one beneath, slamming till his knees felt its force. What was going on? They understood nothing but each other. Fortunately, that’s all you needed to fight: horse, rider, centaur. One.

The royal chariot careened into view. Bounced dangerously, everyone toppling. Aran exploded forward with the faintest whisper. Pulled astride. The chariots reins would th—too late. Aran spurred. Again. A body airborne. Aran rolled sideways, hanging off his mount and under its neck. His arms oustretched. Then, suddenly, holding royal flesh.

Seconds later, he was slowing hard, whistling as three breaths found the synchrony of shared relief, and the drumming gallop of his troops swept in to cover them.

***
Present

When Aran finally walked off, the stallion was slopping water up greedily from the trough. A good handful of servants were meanwhile busying themselves with providing other comforts. They, like everyone else, were stricken silent. For the moment, only the animals were oblivious enough to go on as if the city hadn’t just uncorked chaos. Part of him wanted to stay. But even for a foreigner, he’d held off as long as possible. Soon even the violence outside the keep walls would be dying down. So Aran took the long way out of the stables, foregoing the direct corridor for an odd path across the grounds. His blood still ran hot with battle fire, and flashes of the last few hours kept coming back.

But how do you tell someone that hasn’t seen it? How do you explain that yarns aren’t some self-aggrandizing lark, but a lurch back from insanity, when your mind is trying desperately to fit together what actually happened? He’d still go to see his taskmaster, but the one beauty of his job to date was failing him now. For once, the question couldn’t be above his pay grade. No matter the desire to hush things, people would want to know. And they’d know he knew, in the way that these silk-shirted buffoons “knew” everything. It was hopeless trying to explain. He wasn’t even sure they could’ve swallowed this round a campfire beneath the Open Sky. How could he have both watched Fenton fall, and lost track of the body before it hit the ground? He hoped Emilia had better answers. About. . .everything, now.

TAG: HanSolo29, spycoder9

 

IC: Fleet - Thirteen days before the wedding
Fair Groves, The Kalkheim

All he could do was smile at her. Her voice was soothing and her fingers through his hair felt inexplicably relaxing…her words were fiercely encouraging. He liked it when she referred to them as ‘we’. He even chuckled when claimed that he was ‘smart’. Clever maybe, but definitely not ‘Lorain smart’. Still, it was nice to hear.

“We are stronger together.” Lorain declared easily enough.

Fleet nodded and grinned in agreement. He was getting sleepy, and it wasn’t even dark yet. From his expression, the giant woman could see that the young boy would follow her to the ends of the earth, but also, that he had an unquenchable hunger for knowledge, a thirst to live fully…and the personal will to follow through, should he be guided properly. His blue eyes lit up as Lorain promised to teach him all he would need to know.

Without hesitation, he complied when asked to sit at the edge of the bed ( a definite sign of trust coming from him ) and almost regretted it. His eyes grew heavy, though he was actively listening. Fleet leaned in and rested his head against Lorain’s shoulder. He couldn’t help how relaxed and comfortable he was feeling.

“Wise sages talk about doing stuff. But its up to people like us ta actualy do it.”

Fleet simply nodded in total agreement.

When Lorain mentioned her Father, he looked up at her and studied her as she spoke. Just like a mother, he had no experience as to what it was like to have a father. The way Lorain spoke about her own father, he conjectured that he was a great man. For a brief moment he thought about the Warden, a father who would risk anything for his son. And then there was Lady Spectra, a mother who recognized great risk as well as sacrifice. Lorain’s father was no less noble than these royals, at least in his estimation.

“Ya would have liked him.”

Fleet smiled up at her and gave Lorain’s arm a brief squeeze. He could tell how much she missed her father. Inwardly, he promised himself to watch her back as best he could, that was the least he could do. He vowed to become so good at it, he would be able to do it in his sleep.

“So, now I gots to ask ya. Fleet, you ever been on a boat before?”

Fleets eyes were closed. He perceived the question, at least he thought he did, as he attempted to answer. In his warm sleepiness, he imagined that he had shaken his head, signifying ‘no’, he had never been on a boat, at least nothing larger than a fishing boat. But alas, he could not swear that he had managed to answer at all.

Slumber and fatigue had finally won over and claimed his conscious mind, which was now ferried upon unseen wings, soaring between living reality and the realm of dreams.


Tag: @Ktala, @spycoder9

 

Those who plot the destruction of others often fall themselves.​

- Phaedrus​

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The Wedding of Fire​

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Illiza’s Chambers​

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Illiza stood in front of her shattered mirror.​

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Her face was splintered into a thousand pieces.​

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As it should be.​

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Gently she reached up to her cheeks and found they were wet.​

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Tears. ​

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She was crying. Crying for what exactly, she was unsure. Crying for her loss of V’hallar. Crying for her loss of Ser Lawrence. Crying for the loss of herself. In the process of three weeks, she had lost everything. And now here she stood.​

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Broken.​

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She wiped back the tears then, and with a mighty kick, sent the mirror spinning to the floor.​

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The shards scattered around her feet.​

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---

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Ser Lawrence's Chambers​

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Ser Lawrence sat in his chambers. The waiting was interminable. Maybe it was the cold, but there was just something about having to sit and wait that made this terrible. Perhaps every husband felt like this on his wedding day. Alas, it was a question that Lawrence had forgotten to ask his father before he'd left.​

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His father...Lawrence probably should have asked his father a great many things. The two had never been especially close. Lawrence had received some modicum of attention from his mother, certainly more than the nearly open hostility that she reserved for Chelsee and Landon, his youngest siblings. They were the ones that that Martyn had taken under his wing more than any other. Lawrence knew that they needed it more, he'd always known it since he had been old enough to begin comprehending such things...but that didn't mean that there weren't things he should have talked to his father about. Curious what one thought one needed as time went on.​

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There was a gentle knock on the door.​

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"Come," Lawrence said, ready for any distraction from the waiting.​

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The door opened slowly and Ser Rickard, now looking a little better than he had earlier in the morning, poked his head in. "It is time, Ser Lawrence," he said.​

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The waiting had been hard, but the sudden arrival of this moment hit Lawrence in the chest. It was really happening. There was no going back now. The knight rose. He looked down to check his garments. It would not do to be anything but smooth and polished today. Lawrence put his hand to his side where his scimitar hung in its scabbard. Though not exactly traditional wedding attire, this was not exactly a traditional wedding. Those who went from a life of pure knighthood to knighthood and marriage were few and far between. His blade would be a reminder that his life served two purposes now.​

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"Let's go," Lawrence said. ​

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Safia's Chambers​

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She spent the remainder of the time before the ceremony alone in her chambers, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. Safia had moved out into the parlor area of her rooms, staring out the window and watching the snow falling over the tents outside, trying to count the numerous banners flying over them. A maid brought her some tea, which seemed to help calm her a little bit, but even so, her stomach was in knots by the time a final knock and Ectarion’s voice broke the heavy silence. Very much afraid of what she would find on the other side of the door, Safia went to open it. Would there be one brother waiting for her, or two?​

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Relief rushed through her when she saw Karridan standing in the corridor with Ectarion. He hadn’t left after all! She smiled to see him, but he did not respond.​

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“It’s time,” Ectarion told her, holding out a hand to his sister. Safia nodded and took the offered hand.​

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Dining Hall​

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The Dining Hall was more finely decorated now than it had ever been in recent memory.​

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Along the ends of the room, candlesticks were lit, if only dimly. Their dull orange glow reflected off the white marble walls and provided an even more intense light than normal. Cushioned chairs filled the inner sitting area, some bearing particular House colors. There was a space between the chairs, leading from the doorway to the dais. Candles lined the walkway as well, though these were ground candles, and each was surrounded by beautiful snow flowers. On the dais, two large luminary candles stood on the either side of it. One was surrounded by light blue flowers, while the other had bright green flowers cowering beneath it. In the center, a designated torch was lit and hooked onto the wall. The entire room held an inner glow that captivated all that attended.​

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Once the preparations had been finished, the guests began to enter. Ser Malcolm Granville, with that fashionably wolfish grin of his, welcomed people in alongside Ser Emory Cupiditas. Lord Lendan and Lady Ambir Tanderly entered hand-in-hand. The Maegorion brood walked in as a whole, save for Brynna, who walked beside Samule Rolmar. Caetherene Gideon held her head high in the silky blue gown that made her eyes sparkle. Miche entered alongside the other Desertmen, and he even looked becoming for a squire. His own sword hung from his side proudly. The seats filled appropriately, with even Lady Cyrell showing up, even though she was a weakened mess. Rumor was she hadn’t left her room since her husband’s death announcement. Synthia came in with a notably pale face, gripping her father’s arm the entire time. The Isles men stepped in, though it seemed like seats weren’t reserved for them, so they stood alongside the sides of the room, bordering the candles. ​

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The guests began to filter in more and more overtime. Throughout their waiting, servers wandered the men and women offering crackers or bread to hold them over. ​

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Once every seat had been filled and the anxious murmuring of guests had begun to rise, King Desmond Rolmar entered. Behind him strode many Mountain knights, all of them decked in some of their finest armor. They took their own prospective places along the sides and ends of the room. The King himself walked until he was standing beside the candle with blue flowers, and there he stood smiling. He let his eyes wander over all the people inside, and nodded his head kindly every so often. ​

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Then, the musicians began a soft melody that brought some to tears.​

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A red-robed woman with a cowl over her face appeared in the doorway. She did a slow shuffle down the walkway, and only the dim candlelight showed her face. Something seemed odd about the way she walked, and her cloak seemed loose on her body. Once she came to the end of the walkway, she stepped onto the dais, flashed a quick glance in the direction of the King, and seized her hood. The white hair was deadened, and the wrinkles on her face stunned many of the men, but the women had been adjusted to the shock at the tea. The King appeared impassive, and instead turned his attention back down to the end of the hall.​

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Ser Rickard stepped in the room with a prize winning smile on his face. Several of the younger women fanned themselves a little harder at his glance, but he kept his eyes focused on the dais. Once he came to the end, he stepped beside the bright green flowers, on opposite sides of the King. He too looked back to wear he had come.​

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And there stood Ser Lawrence.​

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The knight walked down the aisle, slowly, respectfully. The eyes of many of Mirwyth's leading nobles were upon him and their gaze carried weight. A wedding like this had not been held for many years in the great houses--because then those houses had not had kings. Now they did and the marriage of a princess was not something that was seen in the cold of the Mountains, the windows of the Islands, or the heat of the Desert. Lawrence had the eyes of a court upon him before, when he had been lauded for defending Arqada. Never had he walked before a court of so many lords and ladies. Surrounded by lords of sea and stone, Lawrence stood as the greatest representative of the Desert that was present today. He carried his head up and his eyes forward as he made his way to the dais.​

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When he arrived, he took his place before Illiza.​

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"Thank you," he said softly to her, "for everything." For performing this ceremony. For what she had given him before, sinful though it had been. For what he hoped was her continued silence. He might not have liked how Illiza had behaved today, but that didn't negate that she was here now. Besides, at his own wedding a man should be gracious.​

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Lawrence turned his attention back to the aisle, awaiting the appearance of his bride. ​

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Safia took a long, deep breath before she finally stepped into the hall, flanked by her brothers. Her hands, gently grasping her skirts, were still shaking a little, and she could feel the hundreds of eyes on her. She kept hers straight ahead, though, and held her head up with a confidence she didn’t quite feel. With everything that had already happened today, she was praying that nothing else would go wrong. ​

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Her father was already on the dais, as were the priestess and Lawrence. He made quite a handsome groom, but although she knew it was not unheard of for a knight to wear his weapon for formal occasions, she was a little unnerved at noting his curved sword hanging at his side. ​

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Even more startling was the priestess. As she neared the dais, Safia could not help noticing the drastic change that had come over her. As well as Safia remembered, she had been a young and healthy woman twelve days earlier, but now…she appeared aged, elderly. What could have done that to her? ​

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She hid her alarm, though. Lawrence, as far as she knew, had no knowledge of any of the chaos she had been dealing with, and now was definitely not the time nor the place for him to find out. Her gaze shifted to her husband-to-be and she gave him a brief—and slightly nervous—smile as she stepped onto the dais.​

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The musicians quieted for several moments, allowing Illiza leeway to speak.​

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"The sun, the light of V'hallar, shines on us all," Her raspy voice filled the hall, "It shines on health and on sickness. On births and on deaths. Its light is constant, even if it is obscured by clouds. But it shines most brightly and always on the love of man and woman. The candles that surround us today remind us that even in the darkest moments, that light is there for us, even if we cannot see it." The candlelight throughout the room flickered as though an invisible wind had shaken it. ​

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"Today, man and woman step into the light of V'hallar as one, and pledge themselves to each other for now and forever. The light of these candles comes in the form of fire. Some fear fire, for it can destroy and consume. This is the zealous heart of one devoted to V'hallar, of husband and wife who will defend their virtue and their righteousness against the darkness."​

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Illiza paused in the rites of marriage. "It is one of the holy precepts of our faith that was adopted by the Kildares as a sign of their own devotion to V'hallar. 'What has been said in the darkness shall be heard in the light.' Between husband and wife let there be no darkness and only light."​

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"Now," She gestured to the bride and groom, "place your hands in each other's."​

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Lawrence turned his eyes from Illiza and looked at Safia. He put his hands out in front of him, palms up, and smiled at her. If there was any subtext in Illiza's words he didn't pick them up. He was thinking only of his bride now.​

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Safia returned his smile as she placed her hands in his. The warmth of his hands against hers was comforting, reassuring, and it helped keep her mind in the present. She wouldn't, couldn't, dwell on today's hardships. Now, this moment, was about them.​

“Princess Safia, repeat after me."​

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Illiza halted for only a second as her mind ran back over the vows a final time. “I, Safia Rolmar, take Lawrence Kildare, to be my husband.”​

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Safia repeated the priestess’s words.​

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. . . “Let me walk the paths of light with you, let me warm your lonely moments, let me raise you when you have fallen.”​

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. . . “I hereby pledge my life to you, from now until the end of time, and take you to my bosom.” ​

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. . . “I shall keep you in my heart, where the fires of my love burn dross away and refine all that is good into all that is beautiful.”​

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. . . “Before you I stand and from your side shall I never stray.”​

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. . . “Accept me now and through your love let there be no more shadows in my life." ​

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When Safia finished her final part, the priestess turned to Ser Lawrence. Her robes caught a reflection of candlelight, and for the fraction of a second, it seemed as if her dress had caught fire. ​

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“Now, Ser Lawrence, repeat after me."​

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Once he had finished his words, the priestess continued.​

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“With the fires lit inside my soul by my lord V’hallar, I declare Ser Lawrence Kildare and Safia Rolmar, husband and wife."​

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And with that, Lawrence's life changed forever. He had a wife now. He'd never thought that he would. He leaned in and gave Safia an appropriately passionate kiss (after all, they were in public in front of their peers), taking her by the waist.​

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It felt so very good to kiss his wife.​

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It was done. They were truly, officially married. Safia couldn’t help feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders—all the stress and bother of the past three weeks was past, and even today’s less than happy events seemed to fade away for the moment as she kissed her husband.​

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When their lips finally parted, Lawrence turned with Safia and, one pair of their hands still joined, Lawrence's right in Safia's left, they raised them and smiled at their esteemed guests.​

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The crowd erupted into a thunderous applause.​

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As Illiza held her arms behind them, the sleeves of her robes slipped down. ​

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A glint of silver reflected off the candlelight.​

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Miche, with his mouth ajar, pointed to the priestess.​

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In a flash, her arms were down, and she was rushing into Ser Lawrence. ​

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The knight’s body jerked as she rammed a shard of glass into his back once-twice-three times. ​

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The Desertmen stood from their seats all around the entire room. Synthia was screaming. Ser Rickard unsheathed his sword from his side at the same time that the King motioned to Slade Moorecroft. The Islesmen, Desertmen, and Mountainmen alike yanked their weapons from their sides.​

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The lords and ladies were all crying afoul as Ser Lawrence collapsed from the dais. Behind him, the priestess stood with the bloody glass in her hands. Her haunted eyes remained cast on Ser Lawrence. ​

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The entire hall was silent for a fraction of a second.​

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Then, the King spoke.​

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"Kill them.”​

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And from above the hall, where the musicians had been sitting, arrows flew. One struck Ser Rickard in the shoulder. ​

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Slade Moorecroft cut a Desertman’s throat from behind. Blood spurted onto Caetherene’s dress. Miche crumpled to the floor. Synthia continued to scream, though she wasn’t the only one anymore. ​

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Thus, the Wedding of Fire commenced. ​

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IC: Safia Rolmar Kildare
The Mountains of Mirwyth
Shodaire, the Tower of Stone
Dining Hall—the Wedding

In a matter of seconds, Safia’s happiness turned to a mix of horror and utter confusion. The priestess—the priestess?!—rose up behind them as their backs were turned and stabbed Lawrence. As he collapsed, Safia moved to go to her husband’s side, but before she had time to fully register what had just happened, she heard her father: “Kill them.”

WHAT?!

What was going on? What was her father doing?

All around her, the Desertmen were falling under the unexpected assault. Ser Rickard had taken an arrow, and she saw poor Miche collapse. Screams rang through the hall, and the blood…

Her father had betrayed them all.

TAG: spycoder9, Trieste

 

IC: Ser Lawrence Kildare
The Mountains, Shodaire, Dining Hall



The sudden pain blinded Lawrence in a whiteness that overpowered all else. He didn't think such a thing was possible. Whether he cried out he didn't know. All he knew was that it happened three times and by the time that his senses overcame the intensity of the sharpness in his back his face had slammed into the ground.

Is this what a fatal blow feels like? Lawrence thought, Is this what I have dealt out to so many others in my life? What I dealt to that bandit on the way here?

His insides were on fire. V'hallar's fire? No, things were coming together in Lawrence's mind. It had come from behind.

Illiza.

He had been so wrong. He had believed the best of her. He had believed the best of a woman who had seduced him into breaking his vow of chastity, of a woman who had promised divine retribution to him that very day. And yet the retribution was not V'hallar's. It was hers. The warning had not been of what their god of fire would do to him. It had been of what she would do to him.

Damn you woman.

By the time he'd pieced this together, his mind rapidly shifted back to his injuries. Threes tab wounds...the chances that she hadn't delivered a killing blow with all three were slim. Even so, he had seen men, comrades and enemies, survive blows that looked to be fatal. If only he could get to a maester. There would be a chance.

Lawrence tried to pull his head up. His men would be rushing to him. They would not kill Illiza. She was a priestess of V'hallar. She was holy. Insane, apparently, but still holy. What would happen to her would be determined by men of greater standing in the service of V'hallar. But his men could get him to the Rolmar's maester. Explanations might get difficult later--he didn't expect Illiza to keep her mouth shut now--but at the very least he might live.

And his vows with Safia had been concluded. King Desmond might not like the fact that his daughter had just married a man who had screwed his foreign priestess, but they were married.

Ginnifer is going to kill me, Lawrence thought, I did this for her, for the Fair Groves. She will lose face over my unfaithfulness.

Lawrence got his head up by this point, his chin dragging against the stone floor of the hall.

The Knight Commander of the Fair Groves realized that what he had thought was a wedding was really an ambush. The man who had saved Arqada had been outflanked. Why, he didn't know. Illiza must have told Desmond, he realized, This is no coincidence.

What killed Lawrence more than the wounds in his back, bleeding onto the floor, or Desmond's betrayal was that his men were dying and he could do nothing about it. He was dully aware of his scimitar at his side. He would be lucky if he could get it out of the scabbard in his condition. Doing anything with it past that would be impossible. His energy was leaving him with his lifeblood. His men had not come to this with their weapons. Why would they have? They were trying to resist with their hands, but they faced an enemy with superior firepower. Lawrence knew they wouldn't last.

His men. They had followed him to this forsaken land of snow and ice. He was their leader. And his unfaithfulness was the reason they were going to die. It was not Illiza's fault. It wasn't even Desmond's. It was what he had done that had brought this upon them.

Lawrence groaned, but he didn't have the ability to form words. This was true suffering, true punishment. He would die with their blood on his hands. Lawrence's heart broke for that.

His heart.

Safia.

Lawrence tried to look about for her from his prone position. She could get him out of here. She might have people who could save him yet. They would have to move fast--before her father realized what she was doing.

Unless she was part of this too. Oh V'hallar...

Lawrence looked to his right and he found Safia standing there. He shakily raised his right hand, the one that had held hers an age ago when their vows had been formalized, and raised it towards her, reaching out, imploring her for help.

The knight was not afraid of death, but he was afraid that his wife had never truly felt anything for him but contempt.

TAG: JediMasterAnne spycoder9