With Warmond... I was surprised by the golden eyebrows. I know the Manderly's have a favour for turqoise, so the hair colour is great, but I have forgotten about the eyebrows.
Well I may be wrongly interpreting the drawing here, Warmond's hair was naturally a strawberry blonde before he died it a dark green. I believe the eyebrows are his original hair colour, but as I said I could be completely wrong
Oh man, I love them! Your drawings are always amazing, no matter which style and these five are incredibly well-done and detailed. Now, I mu… morest admit I have actually gotten a look at Warmond and Dormund before, so I already knew about them and I was aware that there are Jaycen and Meghan illustrations on the way, though I haven't seen them before. And well, it is always a special treat to see two of my characters drawn there, given how perfectly you capture them, from their general appearance, to details such as their facial expression and posture. With Dormund, first of all, that guy seriously looks like someone who has been brought back from death. I guess, given that he literally died, he has been through the most compared to the other characters. No matter what, at least no other currently living character actually died. This is shown pretty clearly in your drawing. With Warmond... I was surprised by the golden eyebrows. I know the Manderl… [view original content]
Well, it's not like Warmond would be my character, but that was how I understood it as well - that his hair was originally strawberry blonde, but he just got to the habit of dying his hair and beard. And I just thought leaving something in the original color would be a nice touch. I mean, I assume dying your eyebrows would be bloody annoying to do anyway
With Warmond... I was surprised by the golden eyebrows. I know the Manderly's have a favour for turqoise, so the hair colour is great, but I… more have forgotten about the eyebrows.
Well I may be wrongly interpreting the drawing here, Warmond's hair was naturally a strawberry blonde before he died it a dark green. I believe the eyebrows are his original hair colour, but as I said I could be completely wrong
Ah, strawberry blonde, I see! It seriously looks a bit like gold and I thought he might be a bit like Book-Daario, who really just dyes his beard for attention. Under closer inspection, it indeed looks more like strawberry blonde, but that on its own is not all that far away from golden, being a darker shade of blonde after all. I blame the combination between the eyebrows and the hair, as well as the unmistakably golden things he is wearing Ah, a shame, I would have loved a golden moustache, that would be the most hilariously flamboyant thing I could imagine, especially from a guy like Warmond, whom I haven't really seen as the kind of guy to be all that flashy and extravagant so far. Doesn't take away how much I appreciate this drawing though
With Warmond... I was surprised by the golden eyebrows. I know the Manderly's have a favour for turqoise, so the hair colour is great, but I… more have forgotten about the eyebrows.
Well I may be wrongly interpreting the drawing here, Warmond's hair was naturally a strawberry blonde before he died it a dark green. I believe the eyebrows are his original hair colour, but as I said I could be completely wrong
Hey guys, a new H&L here! I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think
The Invasion – Histories&Lore
Bethany Caron – Duty
"Alara?" Gareth's voice rang through the hallway. "ALARA!" This time, he was loud enough that Bethany groaned in annoyance. Did he really have to be that loud? It was a warm day, the sun having heated up the marches to a point where Bethany legitimately yearned for the dark, soothingly cool night. It was a pressing heat, making it hard to breathe and Bethany found it to be the most comfortable in her room, with the shutters closed. At least the darkness gave her some tiny relief from the heat.
Even better, it meant that she was able to shut out the entire situation surrounding her. It had been bad lately, more than ever before. Father would say something to hurt mother. Mother would cry. Ryman would be angry. Father would say something to hurt Alara. Alara would cry. Although she had gotten different lately. Her little sister stopped being all that little. Slowly but steadily, the anger she had towards the man she called her father was growing. Bethany herself was trapped in the middle there. She loved her mother, she loved her little sister. But how could she side against her father? The dutiful daughter...
Frantic knocking at her door caused her to roll her eyes. "Bethany?", Gareth gasped. "Bethy! Come on, I know you're in there!" As he spoke, Bethany approached the door and she tensed up as she noticed his tone. Something was different than usual. Something was not right. And as she opened the door, just a gap at first, she realized that something terrible had happened.
Gareth was deathly pale as he stood there in front of her. "Have you seen Alara?", he asked and she raised an eyebrow. "I thought she was with Ryman", she stated. Her little spitfire of a sister wasn't bothered by the heat. Even now, close to noon, she was mostly found with their brother, riding, fighting, or generally doing all kinds of things a true lady wasn't supposed to do. In a way, Bethany envied her for this freedom, though she knew of the terrible price her little sister had to pay for it. A sting of guilt flashed through her chest for even just thinking such a thing. Alara was not one to be envied.
"I thought the same", Gareth replied, as he reached into his coat. "Then I found this" He pulled out a roll of parchment and handed it to her. Bethany narrowed her eyes, as she began to read. The light was dim in the hallway and Alara had never been the most careful writer, but this was unmistakably her handwriting. She gasped as she realized what this was.
"Ryman", she mumbled. "Quick!" Without waiting for Gareth's reaction, she pushed herself past him, rushing down the hallway as quick as her dress allowed. She cursed herself at having chosen the tightly cut yellow dress for today. It looked spectacular, yes, but nobody was supposed to see her today, at least nobody she wanted to impress. It slowed her down enough for Gareth to catch up with her easily.
"When have you found this?", she asked and Gareth shrugged. "Just now", he said. "I wanted to check up on her. Haven't seen her all day and..." He fell silent, as did Bethany, as her gaze fell onto the open door to Alara's room. Notably smaller than her own, granted by a man that had never hidden the fact that he was only tolerating and not accepting her. It was empty. And Bethany knew what this meant.
Almost in a state of panic, she rushed down the stairs. Yesterday had been bad, even worse than usual. Their father... her father had been drinking, which was never a good sign. He hadn't hit her, but some of the things he had uttered. Bethany felt tears forming in her eyes, as she had to remember her own father saying such hateful things to her little sister. In contrast, Alara had been calm, so terribly calm and now, Bethany knew the reason. Even before she had reached the lower end of the stairs, the tears began to run down her cheeks.
And that was where Mother saw them. Meghan threw a confused look at her children. "What's wrong?", she asked, as she turned to Gareth. "I thought I had heard you calling. What happened?" Bethany passed her mother, unable to look the woman in the eye right now, though Gareth did the duty that should have been hers. In soft words, he began to explain the situation. A panicked gasp came out of Meghan's throat and she darted down the hallway, after Bethany. The love of a mother... if only she would have shown more of it in the past.
The courtyard lay in the bright sun. Southern winds had brought even more heat, but Bethany was not bothered by it right now, even if she had to shield her eyes to spot the man she was looking for. Father was standing near the armoury, inspecting the sword of a new recruit, a green boy who stared at his lord with fear in his gaze. Further to the gate of Nightsong stood Ryman, silently caring for one of the horses.
"Ryman!", she yelled across the courtyard, not bothering to be silent. Father heard her of course, but she didn't care. He would learn about it soon enough. Rushing across the courtyard, she found her brother not turning around. He heard her, obviously, but he continued to stroke the horse's fur, almost as if he was ignoring her. "Ry!", she repeated.
By now, Jaycen had started to approach them, his pace fastened as he saw his wife and son running after his daughter. His only daughter, as he was always pointing out. She heard her mother letting out a gasp, half agony, half anger, as she threw herself at her husband. "What have you done?", she spat. "What have you done? Where is my daughter?"
Bethany felt naked fear as she looked over her shoulder, seeing Gareth keeping their mother from jumping at her own husband. By now, Meghan's beautiful face was twisted with grief and anger. It was as if Bethany was looking into a mirror and the effect was unsettling. Jaycen himself stared at his wife with confusion. "What... what are you talking about?", he stuttered. "Bethany, what's going on?" In his voice, there was concern, confusion and, as she noticed, a hint of fear.
"She's gone", Ryman answered behind her and just hearing it confirmed all of Bethany's fears. Tears began to stream down her face, now without her even trying to hold them back. Her little sister was gone. She clenched her fists and bit down onto her lower lip, as distant, faded memories flashed through her mind. Briala, the youngest child of Jaycen, the other sister she had lost. This was not the same. This was worse.
"What...", Jaycen started, but Ryman cut him off. "Alara is gone!", he barked, now with barely hidden anger in his voice. Meghan let out an agonized wailing, as she sank to the ground, Gareth with her, still holding her in a hug. And Bethany was able to see the slow realization on Jaycen's face. His one eye widened and he held his breath. "Oh...", he mumbled. "This foolish girl..."
Bethany narrowed her eyes and she was sure that Ryman behind her did even worse, but her father continued, as he himself glared at his eldest son. "How do you know?", he spat and Bethany realized that he had a point. She looked over her shoulder at her oldest brother. Ryman was a true warrior, a true lord of the Marches. Taller than his father, stronger, with his mother's good looks and gentle temper. But right now, right now he was more like his father, filled with anger and pain. "I let her go", he revealed quietly.
"What?", Bethany spat, her voice shrill with fear, though it was Jaycen who continued. He silenced her by placing a hand onto her shoulder and she wasn't sure if she should shake it off in disgust or fall into his arms, to cry into his chest. Her father only said a single word as he faced his son. "Why?", he asked.
Ryman glared at him and his voice shivered as he spoke. "She came to me, this night", he revealed and for a second, he had to pause. His voice was shivering and she saw tears in his eyes. "She told me what had happened. What you said to her", he mumbled. "Told me that there were two ways for her now. Either she throws herself down the tower, or she leaves through the gates. Either way, she said, she won't be a problem for you anymore"
Bethany gasped, as she started to sob. This wasn't dignified, almost childish even, but she did not care. Her little sister had said such a terrible thing and she had a right to break down now. But she remained standing, unlike her mother, who was sobbing into Gareth's shoulder. Gently, her brother covered Meghan's ears.
"She wasn't crying as she told me this", Ryman spoke. "I think by now you have beaten the tears out of her" He pointed a finger at Jaycen and seemed to consider taking a step towards him. The Lord of Nightsong had grown quiet at this revelation. He was staring into the distance and probably without even realizing it, he was pulling his daughter into a hug. She let it happen, no matter how much this man disgusted her right now.
"I love my little sister", her brother continued. "So I did what I had to do. I packed her bag, I brought her a sword, the finest in our armoury, all the coin I dared to give her and our best horse" He shook his head. "I did not look after her as she left. I couldn't... Gods have mercy, I couldn't"
"Oh, this child...", Jaycen mumbled. "She had always been unruly" Ryman clenched his fists. "This is all you have to say?", he asked and Jaycen shook his head. "Gather my best trackers”, he ordered. “Saddle my horse. We'll ride after her. She couldn't have gotten far. We'll have her by tomorrow"
Ryman shot his father a glare that caused Bethany to tremble. "What?", he growled. "Now you care? After forcing her to leave her home, now you care?" Nonchalantly, Jaycen gave him a nod. "Of course I care!", he replied with a dedication she had never seen in him before, not when it came to Alara. "It is dangerous out there and she could get hurt if I don't bring her back. She is my daughter!"
Bethany gasped, as she saw the sudden shift on Ryman's expression. In this moment, her sense of self-preservation kicked in and she pushed herself away from her father, just as Ryman threw a heavy punch into the man's face, without holding back.
Jaycen hadn't expected it and he took it without even trying to defend himself. The punch was heavy enough to cause him to fall to the ground, but Ryman did not stop there. For a moment, Bethany was terrified as she saw the murderous rage in his glare. Too stunned to react, she just stod there as her brother jumped on top of his father.
"You bastard!", Ryman spat. "You fucking bastard!" He began to throw punches right into Jaycen's unprotected face and now, Bethany screamed in horror. Next to her, Meghan began to wail helplessly, while Gareth held her. Her brother was just... staring at the scenery, anger and grim satisfaction on his face, as he watched his older brother beating their father without holding back.
"NO!", Meghan screamed, as Ryman threw another punch at his father and another one, a third, a fourth. From the other end of the courtyard, guards began to rush at the scenery. Bethany, though helpless in her grief, with tears flowing down her cheeks, knew she had to do something. "RY!", she yelled, as she rushed towards her brother.
He stopped as she hugged him from behind and just feeling him so close caused her to break down, as she pressed her face into his back, crying bitterly. "No...", she sobbed. "Don't do it..." She felt her brother trembling and heard her father speak something. It surprised her that he was still conscious, but then again, he had always been the toughest of them. "Leave us...", he mumbled, his voice sullen, defeated, broken, but still loud enough for the guards to hear him.
Bethany glanced at her father's face and seeing him all bruised, bloody and beaten, it caused her vision to cloud with tears. He was not looking smug, not like she imagined him to look when the child he never wanted was finally gone. He looked defeated.
"This is your fault!", Ryman spat. "Not Mother's, not Alara's. Yours alone! She was a child and she loved you. All she wanted was for you to be her father. All that happened, it came from you, because you refused to love her back" He shook his head, helplessly and only Bethany prevented him from attacking his father again. "You just called her your daughter... if you would have told her that to her face once, only once in the past sixteen years, this wouldn't have happened"
Jaycen's eye widened and he tried to say something, but Ryman cut him off. "And she is your daughter! She is my little sister and a Caron!", he growled. "She is beautiful, she is brilliant and strong and she became all of this without you, despite you. She loves you so much, even if you never deserved it!” He raised from the ground and Bethany let him, as she sank back into the dirt of the courtyard. Her dress was ruined, that much was for sure, but she did not care. She just barely held herself together.
Finally, Ryman grabbed his father by the collar, pulling him up a little bit and Jaycen gasped. “If anything happens to her out there...”, he growled. “If she gets hurt or… or...” He cut himself off, his face showing the helpless grief he felt. “If anything happens to her, then you're dead to me” With these words, he let go of his father, who sank back into the dirt without even trying to get up. He charged off, towards the Great Hall, leaving the rest of his family alone.
“Gods...”, Jaycen mumbled, his voice a bit of a slur because of how heavily Ryman had beaten him. His eye looked around until he found Bethany. “My daughter...”, he gasped. Behind him, Gareth softly pulled Meghan up and instead of spending time with her father, Bethany approached them.
Her mother was sobbing silently, her face hidden in Gareth's arms. “Alara...”, she mumbled. “No, no, gods, please… My little girl” Gareth stroke her hair, as he shook his head. “I'll bring her back to her rooms”, he spoke, towards his sister. “Bethy… you still have the letter?” Glumly, Bethany gave him a nod. “Read it to him then”, Gareth continued, his voice cold as he glared at his father. “Maybe then he realizes what he did”
Bethany gulped. “Reading it to him?”, she said, as she tried to block out what her sister had written. It had been enough to bring her to the brink of tears when she read it in silence, before this whole scene. Now… for the first time, Bethany Caron was not sure if she was strong enough to do this. Softly, Gareth put a hand onto her back. “We all have our duties, little bird”, he spoke, before he turned around, leading his grieving mother back to her chambers.
With a heavy heart and only barely holding together, Bethany turned back to her father. She had always loved him and unlike Alara, she even had positive memories of him, but he had never made it harder to love him than right now. Softly, she sat down next to him and as he saw her, he gave her a pained look.
“They will hate me”, he mumbled and she had no other answer but to nod. “I don't hate you, father”, she answered and he gave her a weak, joyless smile. “Little Bethy...”, he said, his voice barely audible, his face swollen. But she had his attention, she was sure of it. Silently, she raised the parchment.
“We found this in her room”, she told him and Jaycen let out a pained groan. “My daughter...”, he muttered. “Gods, what have I done? I… it was… every time I looked at her, I saw Qarlton” With what little strength he had left, he shook his head. “I… I didn't want to...”
Bethany glanced at the parchment, gasping as her gaze fell onto the text. Oh Alara… She felt tears and anger rising up inside her, though she calmed down both of it, as she began to read. She didn't want to hurt her father any further, but knew that this had to be done. With a heavy heart, Bethany did the hardest duty of her entire life. “Father”, she said, as she began to tell him the contents of this letter.
“Because that's what you are for me. I am sorry for hurting you by saying this, but this is how I feel. When I think of a father, I don't think of a faceless king in a distant castle, a man I have never seen. I think of you. I think of how you smiled at me when I was younger. How you played with me. We had good times. I have been your daughter once. I still am. Always will be, even if you don't feel like this anymore”
Bethany paused, as tears shot into her eyes. Quickly, she wiped them away, looking at the baffled look on Jaycen's face. “Daughter...”, he mumbled and she continued.
“I don't know what changed. Or, I think I have an idea, but this is not the point. The point is that I am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. Or mother. I knew that I am hurting you somehow, but I never knew what it was until now. Then I realized, I am hurting you by being near you. By trying to be your daughter. I don't want to hurt you and this is why I have to leave”
This time, Bethany closed her eyes for a second. Her little sister… she noticed how much these words were hurting her father and for a moment, she considered just stopping here. She didn't. She couldn't. The dutiful daughter to the bitter end. “Mother”, she continued to read.
“You have given me so much. I love you and I am sorry for leaving you. But I have hurt you as well. The way Father looks at you when I am nearby… It is one of the reasons why I have to leave. I will always be your daughter and I hope you can forgive me”
She shivered once more as she spotted the next parts of the letter. She hadn't read any further back when Gareth presented her the letter. “Ryman”, she said with a weak voice.
“You never stopped to make me smile, even in the darkest of times. You never stopped to tell me how strong I am, how smart, how good. The truth is, I am nothing. I am scared and weak when you are not around. I am scared right now. I don't know if I can be strong without you, but I have to find out”
Bethany glared at her father, who was staring at her with a single wide eyes. “No...”, he gasped, but she continued. “Gareth”, she spoke and by now, her anger helped her to get over the next lines without breaking down.
“You have always been the first to defend me. You shouldn't have to, but you did. You are so much better than me, so strong. Don't be afraid to be the man you were always meant to be”
Now, Bethany's eyes widened as she spotted the next lines. She clenched her fists around the parchment and only the helpless look in her father's eyes got her to continue. He should know. He had to know what he did. “Bethany”, she said and her voice was shaking.
“Not so much of a little bird next to me, but come to think of it, I'm hardly a bird at all. As I write this, I think of the song you once taught me. The lost little girl that wanders off into the woods, where the wolves roam. I am the lost little girl right now, without you, my sister. Leaving you, it hurts the most. The lost little girl came back in your song. But this is not a song and I don't know what happens. I only know that I cannot stay”
She shot a glare at her father to avoid having to cry. “Your work”, she spat. “Are you proud of yourself?” Weakly, Jaycen only shook his head. “My daughter...”, he mumbled. “Oh, Alara, forgive me” He looked at her, with fear in his eye. “Is there more?”, he asked.
“Father”, Bethany continued without mercy.
“I don't know if we ever meet again. I would like to, some day in the future, when I am strong. I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but I hope. Hope is what carries me away from you and maybe hope is what brings me back. Maybe next time I will be worthy of being your daughter. With love...”
Bethany shivered. “Alara...”, she gasped. Having done her duty, she put her head into her hands, curling up next to her father, as her vision clouded with tears.
Ah, the Caron's are such a dysfunctional family, which is always so fitting in Westeros, and makes for such great stories like this. And that letter, man, that was heart breaking. Alara has such a great backstory, I have to say. Thanks for writing this, it was great!
Also, it reminded me that I should get to write an H&L for the Brownhill's at some point... well, perhaps I'll let Stigz introduce more of them first
Hey guys, a new H&L here! I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think
The Invasion – Histories&Lore
Bethany Caron – … moreDuty
"Alara?" Gareth's voice rang through the hallway. "ALARA!" This time, he was loud enough that Bethany groaned in annoyance. Did he really have to be that loud? It was a warm day, the sun having heated up the marches to a point where Bethany legitimately yearned for the dark, soothingly cool night. It was a pressing heat, making it hard to breathe and Bethany found it to be the most comfortable in her room, with the shutters closed. At least the darkness gave her some tiny relief from the heat.
Even better, it meant that she was able to shut out the entire situation surrounding her. It had been bad lately, more than ever before. Father would say something to hurt mother. Mother would cry. Ryman would be angry. Father would say something to hurt Alara. Alara would cry. Although she had gotten dif… [view original content]
I am so glad you enjoyed it! The Caron's and their messed up dynamics have always been something I enjoyed writing, in their submission and in Alara's earlier H&L. It is also one of my favourite aspects of them in the story proper, even if this one probably showed them at their lowest. And the letter, ah, this was the idea that created this entire H&L, sort of the point I constructed the entire part around. It's nice to hear that I got the reacted I have hoped for with it
And a Brownhill H&L would be much appreciated! We don't know all that much about their family dynamics so far, considering that Jaremy's story is just at its early stages, but I would really like to learn more about them
Ah, the Caron's are such a dysfunctional family, which is always so fitting in Westeros, and makes for such great stories like this. And tha… moret letter, man, that was heart breaking. Alara has such a great backstory, I have to say. Thanks for writing this, it was great!
Also, it reminded me that I should get to write an H&L for the Brownhill's at some point... well, perhaps I'll let Stigz introduce more of them first
Hey guys, a new H&L here! I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think
The Invasion – Histories&Lore
Bethany Caron – … moreDuty
"Alara?" Gareth's voice rang through the hallway. "ALARA!" This time, he was loud enough that Bethany groaned in annoyance. Did he really have to be that loud? It was a warm day, the sun having heated up the marches to a point where Bethany legitimately yearned for the dark, soothingly cool night. It was a pressing heat, making it hard to breathe and Bethany found it to be the most comfortable in her room, with the shutters closed. At least the darkness gave her some tiny relief from the heat.
Even better, it meant that she was able to shut out the entire situation surrounding her. It had been bad lately, more than ever before. Father would say something to hurt mother. Mother would cry. Ryman would be angry. Father would say something to hurt Alara. Alara would cry. Although she had gotten dif… [view original content]
Morgan
The Pearled City glowed with the morning sky, the rising sun setting high in the east. Morgan cantered through the main gates, mad… moree of quartz, steel and marble, embellished with gem stones which must have costed a fortune. Guaranteed, it would have likely fed and housed the paupers that begged by the gates as Morgan passed them.
The Gem Palace was no doubt where Morgan would gain an audience with the infamously King Noriphos. The coward. Morgan thought bitterly as his eyes flickered over the starving citizens that were barely governed by their neglecting rulers. The grand Pearled Kingdom. He thought as he rolled his eyes, steering his steed for the Gem Palace.
Before long he was met by a barricade of soldiers, armed with pikes and shields, successfully blocking off the main road. Morgan’s horse snickered back in panic, and admittedly Morgan was slightly worried for what was happening. Shortly after he turned for another route,… [view original content]
This is a truly fantastic H&L, if not surpassing the greatness of your last contribution to the Invasion with Alara Such a beautiful and chaotic scene, the Caron's are truly one of the most broken families in this story, and it makes for such an interesting interaction when they're all together. The letter, well it appears I was wrong with trying to shut you down with this idea, because it truly made the scene more than anything else could. So I can only applaud your amazing talent here and thank you for doing it
Hey guys, a new H&L here! I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think
The Invasion – Histories&Lore
Bethany Caron – … moreDuty
"Alara?" Gareth's voice rang through the hallway. "ALARA!" This time, he was loud enough that Bethany groaned in annoyance. Did he really have to be that loud? It was a warm day, the sun having heated up the marches to a point where Bethany legitimately yearned for the dark, soothingly cool night. It was a pressing heat, making it hard to breathe and Bethany found it to be the most comfortable in her room, with the shutters closed. At least the darkness gave her some tiny relief from the heat.
Even better, it meant that she was able to shut out the entire situation surrounding her. It had been bad lately, more than ever before. Father would say something to hurt mother. Mother would cry. Ryman would be angry. Father would say something to hurt Alara. Alara would cry. Although she had gotten dif… [view original content]
Hey guys, my apologies for my absence over the week. Time is starting to grow stressful as exams approach in a month, so my time for writing is strictly limited to whatever I have left on the weekend. I've scrounged together a Davios part, which introduces some interesting new characters that I'll let you read for yourselves I'd also like to welcome @Mathea back to the forums, it's lovely to see you active again!
Onto the part, the last we saw Davios he had picked up that there was something Vysela was not telling him within her story about the Cobra and her danger. This severely pissed off Hughie, who stormed out of the room. Vysela opened up by telling Davios about the militia group that the Cobra belonged to: The Serpent's Venom, and that they were after her. They may have also opened up a little more after that. Davios bid the two farewell the next day, and was shortly after met by Dickon Finch, a warlord that would be joining Davios on the invasion of the North. The two talked for a moment before the horns of House Grafton sounded, their ships entering the bay. You chose to continue talking with Dickon Finch, and that's where this part picks up from.
Dickon Finch’s quarters were based not too far by the harbour, within the military district of the Pearled City. It had a large interior, which showed a considerable amount of wealth and power. All the things that Davios never had, yet he was now suddenly becoming one of the most important men in Andalos. How things changed. He thought grimly as he sat at end of Dickon’s desk, staring at the bandaged stump at the end of his left wrist.
Dickon took his seat, placing his longsword on the table between them. The weapon was finely forged, with a strong iron blade and sturdy crossbar, the handle was wrapped with leather, and the pommel held a garnet stone. Yet there was no doubt that this was more a tool than a trinket, observing the wear marks on the blade. Davios raised his gaze to his counterpart, watching his inquisitive hazel eyes.
“What do you want to know?” Davios asked bluntly, resting his hand and stump on the table, diverting Dickon’s attention only momentarily before a smirk thinned on his lips. “That depends, how much can you tell a man you don’t know?” Davios sighed, he was barely in the mood for playing games. Regardless, he knew he had to find more out about the man who he’d be fighting beside.
“Very well, Finch. Tell me about yourself.” Davios urged with a nonchalant tone, and a solemn expression coated Dickon’s face. “I drafted into the military as a teen, rose into commander in my early twenties, and joined Ser Gerold Grafton in the invasion of the Fingers.” Dickon informed him, and Davios raised an eyebrow. “Not eager to meet with your old friends then?” Davios hinted back to the Grafton vessels sailing into the harbour, and Dickon firmly shook his head.
“I fought beside Gerold for a lot of the war. I was by his side when we stormed Runestone with the Shett’s of Gulltown. Back then, I thought we were fighting with honour, until Gerold put a sword through the Shett King’s back.” Dickon muttered in spite, crossing his arms. “How he was praised to become one of the first Andal kings in Westeros, few cared for how he attained that title.” Davios eyed the man curiously, tapping his fingers on the table.
“What do you want me to say?” Davios asked with a subtle touch of impatience, causing Dickon to shake his head. “I don’t care for what you say, Davios Tallman. I care for how you act, and how my men prosper from those actions. Gerold pulled a rash move back then, and that betrayal resulted in a conflict which has brought him back to Andalos. Will you honour our alliance?” Dickon asked, and Davios nodded firmly.
“I will.” He assured him, but Dickon seemed unconvinced. “What about the First Men we will have to align ourselves with? Will you honour and respect them too?” Dickon pressed at him, causing Davios to raise an eyebrow. How does he know? He wondered, but emotion took control of his tongue.
“They’re savages.” Davios muttered, and Dickon nodded. “Perhaps, but they may be the very thing that gives us the North. That won’t happen if you take a page out of Gerold’s books however, and decide to slaughter them.” Dickon stated with some experience, but Davios’ anger had gotten the better of him.
“They slaughtered my father!” Davios snapped, slamming his fist on the desk. Dickon now raised an eyebrow, rising from his chair. “Just as fire burned my family alive. Though I cannot hate the fire for that? Fire is an element of survival.” Dickon claimed, and Davios raised his eyebrows. “Your family burned alive?” He asked, somewhat stunned by the reveal. Dickon sighed, lowering his gaze.
“It’s not important.” He murmured, before lifting his gaze after a moment. “The point is, you cannot blame the race of people for the death of Simon. You can blame only one man for that.” He stated, but his father’s name triggered in his mind. “How do you know his name?” Davios asked, suspicion weighing heavy in the atmosphere. Dickon frowned, picking up his sword and observed the garnet pommel.
“After Gerold’s rise in power, I was demoted for my hesitation and placed among the infantrymen. That’s when I met Simon, and the two of us clicked instantly. We fought against the First Men for years until our regiment was to go against Barrock Redfort, who had been the only force to continually throw us back over and over. On that day, Lord Corwyn Corbray required a scribe, the only one of us who could write was your father. Yet being the man he was, he had me go under his name. That regiment never returned from the battlefield.” Dickon informed him, lowering his weapon. Davios felt his heart sink into his chest, Dickon placed his hand on his shoulder.
“Your father was a good man, Davios. I’m here because of him, and I’ve learnt a lot during my years. I want to help you, not only with my army, but as an ally and friend.” Dickon stated, and Davios gave him a nod in appreciation. Then the door thudded. “Enter!” Dickon shouted, and one of the guards entered with a young man.
“Apologies for the interruption, my Lord.” The guard said, and Dickon nodded. “Leave us.” He ordered, and the guard retreated out of the room. Davios eyed the boy that stood before them, he was tall, with a slim but muscular build. His hair was short and scruffy, a coal black, and his eyes brown. “Lord Finch.” He greeted with a grin, and Dickon embraced the young man with open arms.
“It’s good to see you, Bron. What brings you here?” He asked, pulling away from the young man. “Father.” He stated, turning his gaze to Davios. There was a look on his eyes like he had suddenly remembered something of importance. “Lord Tallman, it’s an honour.” He stated, taking a bow. Davios pulled himself from his seat, nodding to him.
“My father wishes for an audience with you.” Bron informed him, and Davios raised an eyebrow. “Your father?” He asked, and Dickon let out a dry chuckle. “Bron here is the youngest son of King Noriphos.” Dickon announced with little amusement, and Bron rolled his eyes. It was clear his royalty was not of much importance to him, still Davios’ eyes widened.
“Sorry, I…” Davios started, but Bron shook his head, an amused grin on his lips. “Don’t worry, I don’t want you to lick the shit off my boots. Father did say it was urgent though.” Bron urged, causing Davios to sigh. “Would you excuse me?” Davios asked, turning to Dickon, who nodded. “Of course, it was a pleasure. Seven blessings.” He said warmly, and Davios reciprocated the gesture, before following Bron out of Dickon’s quarters.
-
The thick oak doors swung open as Prince Bron and Davios approached the throne room, the hall was bright, held high with thick white columns. Davios’ gaze spotted Noriphos sitting upon his elevated throne, with two men standing before him. One was fully donned in steel, with a sheathed longsword and a great helm tucked under his arm, his black tabard displayed a white weasel beneath a seven-pointed star.
The other was a man that Davios took more notice of. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a sinewy build. Their gaze shifted to Davios and Bron as they approached, giving Davios a glimpse at the men. The weasel soldier was a sore sight, with a gruesome thick scar running down his face from upper brow to lower chin. His head was cleanly shaved, and his beard black, his eyes were a dark brown.
The sinewy man possessed a long clean shaven face, with black hair and green eyes. He wore an iron ring around his neck, and his armour was clearly Lorathi crafted. Davios spotted a hint of unease in Bron’s eyes, yet he remained tall postured and calm. North of the Pearled Kingdom was King Qarlon’s dominion, including the isles of Lorath.
“Lord Davios.” Noriphos greeted, rising from his throne. Davios knelt down, followed by Bron, and lowered his head. “Your grace.” He gestured, and arose when signalled. His eyes met the gaze of the Lorathi Andal, there was a broken soul staring back at him, one with a fiery hatred. Davios scowled at the man.
“These are Lord Anderon Varner and Lord Lorias Roxton.” Noriphos introduced, descending down the steps of his throne. Anderon sighed, running an iron gloved hand over his smooth head with some awkward tension. “An honour, Lord Tallman.” He muttered, and Davios nodded in return. Noriphos frowned.
“Lords Varner and Roxton, you are dismissed.” Noriphos notified them, and Anderon nodded with some relief, egressing as quickly as his armour could allow him. Lorias hesitated a moment, his gaze still locked onto Davios, before following after Anderon. Noriphos sighed, clasping his hands together. “Lorias and Anderon will be taking a selection of forces to accompany Morgan Martell to Dorne.” Noriphos stated informatively, and Davios raised an eyebrow.
“Dorne? Sire, we surely need those men for the second attempt-” Davios started, but Noriphos cut him off with a wave of his hand. “First, we need to rebuild, and you need to meet someone.” Noriphos informed him, a thin smile touching his lips. Davios turned his gaze to Bron, who winked at him coyly. “Who?” Davios asked, and on cue, a woman revealed herself from the shadows.
She was beautiful, standing at around six feet, she maintained a slender build which was evident under her tight purple gown which fell to the floor. Davios’ eyes widened, startled by the beauty before him. Her blonde hair was platted into a tail which hung over her shoulder, finishing at her abdomen. She wore light blue pearl earrings, and around her neck hung a golden seven-pointed star necklace.
“Allow me to introduce my daughter, Princess Celia.” Noriphos announced with some pride, but Davios was stunned, it was like he was looking at an angel sent from the Seven heavens. It took him a moment to respond, and even then his voice was seemingly weaker than ever. “It’s an honour, my Lady.” He mumbled awkwardly, which was reciprocated with an awkward smile to the floor. Noriphos chuckled.
“I’ll let you two chat a moment. Bron.” He called, beckoning for his son to join him as they entered another room off to the side of the throne room. Davios gulped, watching as Celia’s green eyes lifted their gaze to Davios’ own light green eyes. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” She stated, her voice confident and strong. Davios cleared his throat, rubbing his wrist awkwardly.
“You have?” He stumbled, and a sympathetic laugh escaped her lips, causing Davios to smile gently. “Yes.” She admitted with a warm tone, taking a step towards him. “I heard you saved a lot of lives at the Battle of the Weeping Water.” She added, and Davios shrugged nervously. “I was just doing my job.” He mumbled, and she raised an eyebrow.
“Were you? Interesting, I thought you were an infantryman.” She pointed out, somewhat bluntly. Now Davios raised an eyebrow with confusion. “My Lady?” He asked, and she rolled her eyes. “Seemingly a daft one at that.” She sighed, turning away. Davios squinted in a wild confusion, which turned to a touch of annoyance.
“I did what I thought was right.” Davios stated in his defence, and a pitilessly short laugh escaped Celia. “I suppose that’s why we don’t train soldiers to think.” She muttered, shaking her head. “To be a warlord, you have to make tough decisions. Argos understood that when he raised an army for my father, only to be thwarted by your stunt.” She scolded. Davios could be an anger burning up within him.
“We were being slaughtered!” He yelled, clenching his fist. You know nothing, he wanted to shout with it, but he held his tongue. She rolled her eyes. “Sacrifices are made in war, and I don’t think you’re capable of making them.” She muttered, but Davios shook his head with frustration. “You don’t know me.” He muttered in return, causing her to scoff.
“That’s why I’m sending you both to the Fingers.” Noriphos announced, returning back into the throne room with perfect timing. Celia raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Father you can’t be serious. There are more important matters!” She tried to persuade him, and as much as it frustrated him, Davios nodded. “I agree with her, we can’t waste any more time.” Davios stated, but Noriphos shrugged.
“Let me deal with the stress of the invasion. I want you both work on finding what else you can agree on, and since I know how distracted you both are here, I believe a new scenery may be helpful.” Noriphos stated warmly, causing Celia roll her eyes in “You’re pathetic.” She muttered, storming off. Davios frowned, crossing his arms.
“She’ll come around.” Noriphos assured him after a moment of silence. “This trip will be good for you both.” He added with a thin smile, but Davios just shook his head. “I urge you to reconsider.” Davios begged, causing Noriphos to retaliate in anger. “Davios Tallman, I chose you for this job, and I chose you to be the husband to my daughter. You agreed to this further on, if my daughter does not appease your wishes then I will find another to replace you.” Noriphos warned, causing Davios to raise an eyebrow before nodding submissively.
“Yes, your grace.” He conceded, and Noriphos nodded. “The ship will leave tomorrow at sunrise. As you’ve clearly pointed out, this is still work to be done.” Noriphos hinted, but Davios remained dormant with his tongue. “If you don’t wish to speak with my daughter, go make yourself useful in the courts. I’m sure Bron will be eager to test your skills.” Noriphos muttered, returning to his throne. Davios sighed, turning his gaze to the throne doors.
Well I'll close this vote. Morgan will swear fealty to Noriphos. This is a good choice, and it prevents Morgan from screwing around in Andalos for any longer than he needs to The next part is also out!
Morgan
The Pearled City glowed with the morning sky, the rising sun setting high in the east. Morgan cantered through the main gates, mad… moree of quartz, steel and marble, embellished with gem stones which must have costed a fortune. Guaranteed, it would have likely fed and housed the paupers that begged by the gates as Morgan passed them.
The Gem Palace was no doubt where Morgan would gain an audience with the infamously King Noriphos. The coward. Morgan thought bitterly as his eyes flickered over the starving citizens that were barely governed by their neglecting rulers. The grand Pearled Kingdom. He thought as he rolled his eyes, steering his steed for the Gem Palace.
Before long he was met by a barricade of soldiers, armed with pikes and shields, successfully blocking off the main road. Morgan’s horse snickered back in panic, and admittedly Morgan was slightly worried for what was happening. Shortly after he turned for another route,… [view original content]
Thank you, thank you I surely enjoyed writing this part, especially with how long it was planned already. I am glad it not only saw its completion at last, but that it is also so well received. And you surely deserve credit as well. If it wouldn't be for your writing, I surely wouldn't be so inspired to write. There is a reason why I am so attached to these characters and it is the way you write them When it comes to the letter, I think it is at least the most simple yet powerful way to show Alara's feelings in this part. It allowed me to show it while still focussing onto the Caron family interaction as a whole.
This is a truly fantastic H&L, if not surpassing the greatness of your last contribution to the Invasion with Alara Such a beautiful an… mored chaotic scene, the Caron's are truly one of the most broken families in this story, and it makes for such an interesting interaction when they're all together. The letter, well it appears I was wrong with trying to shut you down with this idea, because it truly made the scene more than anything else could. So I can only applaud your amazing talent here and thank you for doing it
First Vysela, now Celia, it seems Davios really gets around lately Good for him though! That said, Celia seems to be a difficult person to deal with. Actually, even better. I for one like those who are difficult to deal with. We'll see what comes out of this then. Surely it will be interesting. I must say, when Lorrhen said he wants Kira to be the handmaiden of the royal children, I expected them to be actual children, not people in her age. Seems I misjudged this situation.
Davios
Dickon Finch’s quarters were based not too far by the harbour, within the military district of the Pearled City. It had a large in… moreterior, which showed a considerable amount of wealth and power. All the things that Davios never had, yet he was now suddenly becoming one of the most important men in Andalos. How things changed. He thought grimly as he sat at end of Dickon’s desk, staring at the bandaged stump at the end of his left wrist.
Dickon took his seat, placing his longsword on the table between them. The weapon was finely forged, with a strong iron blade and sturdy crossbar, the handle was wrapped with leather, and the pommel held a garnet stone. Yet there was no doubt that this was more a tool than a trinket, observing the wear marks on the blade. Davios raised his gaze to his counterpart, watching his inquisitive hazel eyes.
“What do you want to know?” Davios asked bluntly, resting his hand and stump on the table, diver… [view original content]
Davios
Dickon Finch’s quarters were based not too far by the harbour, within the military district of the Pearled City. It had a large in… moreterior, which showed a considerable amount of wealth and power. All the things that Davios never had, yet he was now suddenly becoming one of the most important men in Andalos. How things changed. He thought grimly as he sat at end of Dickon’s desk, staring at the bandaged stump at the end of his left wrist.
Dickon took his seat, placing his longsword on the table between them. The weapon was finely forged, with a strong iron blade and sturdy crossbar, the handle was wrapped with leather, and the pommel held a garnet stone. Yet there was no doubt that this was more a tool than a trinket, observing the wear marks on the blade. Davios raised his gaze to his counterpart, watching his inquisitive hazel eyes.
“What do you want to know?” Davios asked bluntly, resting his hand and stump on the table, diver… [view original content]
[Seek out Celia] Well, since they are obviously going to have to spend a lot of time together, possibly even marry, I think it would be a good idea to at least try to get along with her. Anyway, nice part, I'm looking forward to Davios' adventures in the Fingers
Davios
Dickon Finch’s quarters were based not too far by the harbour, within the military district of the Pearled City. It had a large in… moreterior, which showed a considerable amount of wealth and power. All the things that Davios never had, yet he was now suddenly becoming one of the most important men in Andalos. How things changed. He thought grimly as he sat at end of Dickon’s desk, staring at the bandaged stump at the end of his left wrist.
Dickon took his seat, placing his longsword on the table between them. The weapon was finely forged, with a strong iron blade and sturdy crossbar, the handle was wrapped with leather, and the pommel held a garnet stone. Yet there was no doubt that this was more a tool than a trinket, observing the wear marks on the blade. Davios raised his gaze to his counterpart, watching his inquisitive hazel eyes.
“What do you want to know?” Davios asked bluntly, resting his hand and stump on the table, diver… [view original content]
How could you do this to me! Forcing me to choose between two of my characters. Stigz, you are so cruel... (Sarcasm)
Anyways, this is a hard choice because he is going to have a lot of time to get to know Celia, in the Fingers. We don't know when he will have a chance to spar with Bron again. However, I have a feeling that Davios might see a lot of Bron in the future, and he may have a chance to spar with him then. However, I do think it may be a good idea to try to form a better relationship with Celia before they go on their trip to the Fingers. It will make it easier for their relationship to grow and improve when they are actually on their trip. It is always a good idea to get along with the woman you are going to spend your life with. So, with that, I say........... [Seek out Celia]
Davios
Dickon Finch’s quarters were based not too far by the harbour, within the military district of the Pearled City. It had a large in… moreterior, which showed a considerable amount of wealth and power. All the things that Davios never had, yet he was now suddenly becoming one of the most important men in Andalos. How things changed. He thought grimly as he sat at end of Dickon’s desk, staring at the bandaged stump at the end of his left wrist.
Dickon took his seat, placing his longsword on the table between them. The weapon was finely forged, with a strong iron blade and sturdy crossbar, the handle was wrapped with leather, and the pommel held a garnet stone. Yet there was no doubt that this was more a tool than a trinket, observing the wear marks on the blade. Davios raised his gaze to his counterpart, watching his inquisitive hazel eyes.
“What do you want to know?” Davios asked bluntly, resting his hand and stump on the table, diver… [view original content]
Davios
Dickon Finch’s quarters were based not too far by the harbour, within the military district of the Pearled City. It had a large in… moreterior, which showed a considerable amount of wealth and power. All the things that Davios never had, yet he was now suddenly becoming one of the most important men in Andalos. How things changed. He thought grimly as he sat at end of Dickon’s desk, staring at the bandaged stump at the end of his left wrist.
Dickon took his seat, placing his longsword on the table between them. The weapon was finely forged, with a strong iron blade and sturdy crossbar, the handle was wrapped with leather, and the pommel held a garnet stone. Yet there was no doubt that this was more a tool than a trinket, observing the wear marks on the blade. Davios raised his gaze to his counterpart, watching his inquisitive hazel eyes.
“What do you want to know?” Davios asked bluntly, resting his hand and stump on the table, diver… [view original content]
Well everyone came to these choices quickly, so I can happily shutdown the vote. Davios will seek out Celia. I gotta say, I'm not too creative with my wording in choices, I think the last few have all involved 'seek' Anyway, I have the new part ready, and it's a little longer than average, but there was a lot to be shown. It's a Kira part, and here's a recap:
Last time we saw Kira, she had chosen to seek help from a rich merchant she ran into in an alleyway when escaping the Father's Sons criminals. His men defended her, killing the followers, and Kira fell unconscious shortly after. She awoke a few days later in a rich room with a bandaged leg and hospital clothing. When trying to get up, she found her leg to be in a lot of pain, and crippling her. Her tumble fetched the attention of the merchant who had saved her, who introduced himself as Lorrhen. He revealed that his reasons for helping her were for more than just her own wellbeing. In fact, he wished for her to spy on the king. When faced with this option, you chose to agree to his proposition, and this part resumes at this choice.
Davios
Dickon Finch’s quarters were based not too far by the harbour, within the military district of the Pearled City. It had a large in… moreterior, which showed a considerable amount of wealth and power. All the things that Davios never had, yet he was now suddenly becoming one of the most important men in Andalos. How things changed. He thought grimly as he sat at end of Dickon’s desk, staring at the bandaged stump at the end of his left wrist.
Dickon took his seat, placing his longsword on the table between them. The weapon was finely forged, with a strong iron blade and sturdy crossbar, the handle was wrapped with leather, and the pommel held a garnet stone. Yet there was no doubt that this was more a tool than a trinket, observing the wear marks on the blade. Davios raised his gaze to his counterpart, watching his inquisitive hazel eyes.
“What do you want to know?” Davios asked bluntly, resting his hand and stump on the table, diver… [view original content]
With one last hopeful glance, Kira forcefully shifted her eyes away from the road and to Lorrhen. Fat jowls left a crease on his cheeks, yet his eyes spoke his thoughts, ambitious yet kind. Kira frowned, her hand awkwardly clutching her arm. “Alright, I’ll do it.” She decided firmly, and a warm smile touched the large man’s lips. His eyes gleamed with an eccentric joy which looked to be near the edge of bursting. Are all rich Andal’s like this? She wondered mockingly, thinking back to her friend Florentio.
“Fantastic!” He beamed with a wide grin, naturally opening his arms to take her into embracement. Kira stood awkwardly, forcing a small thin smile on her unsure lips. Was spying on one of the most powerful families of Andalos the wisest choice? Though then again, was returning to danger a better one? It was hard for her not to become trapped in these thoughts as the big lump of fat and sweat clumped around her. When he had finished, a large smile still remained on his lips.
“So, how about it?” He asked with excitement, and Kira raised an eyebrow to him. He clarified. “Shall we head for the Gem Palace?” He proposed, and Kira’s eyes widened with the suggestion. “Now?” She asked with uncertainty, and Lorrhen nodded affirmatively. Kira bit her lip, then looking down to her sprained leg.
“I’m not sure.” She mumbled faintly, her crippled leg bothered her. It made her feel weak. Yet Lorrhen’s reaction was ignoring of that. “Ah, don’t worry about that my dear, I have just the thing for you.” He exclaimed, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a vial of transparent white liquid, then offering it to her.
“What is it?” Kira asked hesitantly, taking the small glass tube in her hands. Lorrhen clasped his hands close to his belly. “A weak concoction of poppy milk.” He informed her, his smile died down to something a little more solemn. “I had the doses minimised to an operatable rate. That leg won’t recover anytime soon, and as you’ve got work to do, I figured you’d need something for the pain.” He added thoughtfully, flashing a warm smile to her. Kira sighed, studying the white liquid cautiously.
“You’ve thought it all out, haven’t you?” She muttered, feeling a little vulnerable to this man’s tactical intelligence. Lorrhen shrugged, a proud look on his eyes. “It never hurts to be a step ahead.” He boasted, but Kira just rolled her eyes, unscrewing the vial and bottoming the contents down her throat. A tingling feeling rushed down throat, leaving a trail of numbness. She frowned, passing Lorrhen the empty vial.
“Good.” He sang joyously, accepting the vial in his smooth chubby hands. Kira sighed, turning her eyes back out the window. “I shall have my servants get you dressed into something more presentable.” He informed her decisively, and Kira nodded with an expressionless look. “For now, try to rest. I’ll meet you in the yard within the hour.” He stated, and left her without awaiting her response. When the doors thudded shut, a sigh of relief escaped her breath.
She leaned herself against the windowsill, staring hopelessly out at the quiet streets. Few nobles walking at this time, which only added onto the confining feeling that overwhelmed her. She almost felt a prisoner, staring out at the world of wealth and luxury. A prisoner to coin. She thought ironically, thinking on how hard she had worked to live, now that was all seemingly going to be handed to her on a silver platter. It almost sickened her.
Her reflection glared back at her with a brooding sadness in her bluey lilac eyes, which seemed barely different to the stern serious girl that usually was there. Her pale light blonde hair fell in a messy clump to her shoulders, which brought her some redeeming thoughts, back to her time on the farm with Darren. How he had always teased her about her hair after a day’s work. Things were hard then, yet in another way easier, he was there for her. She would listen to him.
“What am I doing, Darren?” She mumbled grievously, sinking to the floor, yet no matter how hard she tried, she could not shed a tear. Her eyes forbid her, which only left a drowning atmosphere around her. “What am I doing?” She repeated, wishing that his voice would somehow reach her, across the narrow waters and fertile lands of Westeros. The true land of wealth. She thought hopefully, yet it was quickly overweighed with loss. I’ll never see it, she conceded, staring at the useless leg. Never.
-
The courtyard of Lorrhen’s estate was lavish with enriching gardens and stone fountains. Servants attended to the lands while Lorrhen awaited her humbly with four burly men gowned in white. They stood by a litter. “Lady Kira, you look beautiful.” Lorrhen complemented her as she approached, and he wasn’t wrong.
His servants had worked miracles on her when she arrived, turning the gloomy girl into a face of royalty. Her hair had been dry washed and braided back, and her face powdered to her skin tone. She wore a loose violet silken dress, and around her waist she wore a golden embroidered sash. Kira flashed the man her best smile, which came off as pretty pathetic according to his reaction. “We may have to work on that.” He muttered, pulling aside the curtain to the litter and beckoning her to enter.
She took a seat, and was shortly joined by the plump merchant. Before long, she discovered what the burly handsome servants were for. Hoisted onto their shoulders, the litter set out the steel gates, and up the road towards the Gem Palace. Kira stared out the veiled curtains, somewhat in awe by the position she found herself in. Lorrhen held a stern expression on his podgy face.
“Kira.” He yapped, snapping her from her trance. A warm smile touched his lips as he reclined into his seat, Kira turned her gaze to him. “Princess Celia has two handmaidens already entrusted to her currently.” Lorrhen informed her, a solemn look on his light blue eyes. “Ruby and Jade.” He added bitterly, and Kira raised an eyebrow.
“Why does she require a third?” She asked, and a confident smirk widened on his fat lips. “She requires a second.” He corrected, and Kira eyed him suspiciously, her eyes urging him to continue. “Young Ruby was a bitter fruit of the platter, never listening to the authority. That eventually got her in some trouble, and now her head is awaiting the blocks.” Lorrhen stated nonchalantly, but Kira’s eyes widened.
“Why?” She asked with a bit of worry, but Lorrhen gave her a reassuring smile. “She and Prince Bron were caught together. She, of course, was punished. I’m sure you will not make the same mistake.” Lorrhen stated, and Kira shook her head in assurance. “Good.” He chirped, smiling at the ceiling as he shut his eyes, but Kira was left with a frown.
“What’s this ‘Celia’ like?” She asked, a touch of concern on her tone. Lorrhen released a hearty chuckle, wobbling the litter and evoking a grunt from the servants. “Let’s just say she’s her father’s daughter.” He grinned, but Kira’s frowned remained, it was what she was worried about. She had not heard the greatest of things about Noriphos, and her lifestyle in Southpoint only supported those claims.
“Great.” She sighed, resting her cheek against her palm. Lorrhen opened an eye, raising an eyebrow. “You’re worried?” He asked, and Kira nodded. Lorrhen sat himself upright, taking her hand in his own. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Kira. I didn’t save you from one mess just to put you into another.” He tried to assure her, but she felt unconvinced. “Thanks.” She mumbled, shrugging him off. He sighed, resting an arm against the litter window.
“You don’t trust me.” He sighed in disappointment, and Kira rolled her eyes. “Forgive me, Lord, but I’ve only had the pleasure for the better part of two hours.” She asserted harshly, returning her cheek to her palm. Lorrhen nodded, a proud smile building on his lips. “Smart girl.” He complimented her, gaining Kira’s gaze. “Yet you’d be smarter to learn the game.” He stated coldly, his expression coming stern. “And smiling a little more.” He prompted, and Kira failed to hold back the urge of a smile. The rest of their trip went on in silence.
-
The courtyard of the Gem Palace was enriching to gaze upon, and Kira thought Lorrhen’s mansion was impressive. Her eyes gleamed over the marble white castle, and the luscious greens, yellows and reds of the autumn season. A servant parted the curtains, and Lorrhen exited with great haste, with Kira closely behind.
It felt good to be back on her legs again, and to her surprise she felt no pain in her injured leg. It worked. She thought admirably, a joyful smile touching her lips. She turned her gaze to Lorrhen to show her appreciation, but she only found him at the other end of the court, talking with a woman of slim build. Kira hurried over awkwardly.
“Kind of you to join us, Lady Kira.” Lorrhen mocked as she joined him, causing her to roll her eyes. “Allow me to introduce you to a close friend of mine, Lady Elayna Maeson. She’s the eldest daughter of King Noriphos, and husband to Lord Ruban Maeson.” Lorrhen introduced, and Kira’s eyes widened with startle as she realised she was standing before royalty. She quickly attempted a curtsie, executing the manoeuvre poorly. Lorrhen gave a pitiful laugh.
“Forgive her form, my Lady. The Valyrian’s culture differs somewhat to ours.” He stated, and Kira raised an eyebrow, but kept her mouth shut. Elayna nodded, clasping her hands together. “I’m sure.” She mumbled, her voice trailing off. Kira eyed her features, she couldn’t have been much older than Kira, definitely around her mid-twenties. “Well I’m sure my sister will be delighted with a Valyrian beauty.” Elayna stated nonchalantly, and Lorrhen bowed modestly. “I presume you want an audience with my father?” She added, and Lorrhen nodded.
“That would be appreciated, my Lady.” He thanked, and she nodded solemnly. “Very well, I’ll have it arranged. For the meanwhile, I’ll escort this one to Celia.” She decided, and Lorrhen nodded. “Would you allow me to say my farewells? It has been a long journey.” Lorrhen stated calmly, and Elayna nodded. “I’ll be inside.” She informed them, before ascending the steps and disappearing through the main doors. Lorrhen let out a heavy sigh.
“Mind that one.” Lorrhen warned her, cautiously looking around him. Kira raised an eyebrow curiously. “Lady Elayna?” She asked, and Lorrhen nodded. “She has eyes and ears everywhere around this place. If she catches wind of anything suspicious about you, it’ll be straight to the blocks with you.” He stated, and Kira gulped, before nodding. “I’ll try to avoid her.” She suggested, but Lorrhen shook his head.
“Just…” He sighed, shaking his head with some tension. “Learn the game, and play it well. I’ll have some of my people come to check on you, and deliver you more medicine, but for the meantime.” He freed three vials of poppy milk from his coat pocket, then placing them in her side pockets. “Stay safe, Kira.” He pleaded, and Kira nodded with a thin smile, before she was pulled into another embrace, then pushed up the steps.
-
The marble halls were insanely detailed with delicate golden embroidery and fine gems, as well as gilding along the top and bottom of the walls. Glass panes were a clear pale milk transparent, similar to the poppy medicine she had received, and they stretched across the hallway, staring out to the west. There, Kira could see the lapping waters of the Narrow Sea, and the Westside district, where she had once spent hour after hour earning little sums of coin.
She pulled her gaze away from the view, turning her glance onto Lady Elayna. This sun setting light portrayed her beauty in a new manner. Her braided hair fell to her mid back, and while black, the sun set portrayed a red glow on her dark hair and tanned skin. Her glance turned towards Kira’s as she noticed her staring, her eyes green like emerald gems. She wore earrings and a necklace with the matching gemstone.
“I take it this is your first time to Andalos?” She asked, a calm and pleasant tone in her voice. Kira found herself at a loss for words, what has Lorrhen told them? She wondered as she nodded her head awkwardly. “I see, well you must feel very fortunate to be out of those wicked lands. I’ve heard grand but chaotic things from the Freehold, tell me, what is it truly like?” The question pulled Kira off balance, sending her to the floor. From Elayna escaped a long-winded gasp, as she rushed down to her aid.
“Apologies my Lady, I…” Kira stumbled for words, and as her eyes met Elayna’s, she saw something which contradicted the sympathetic woman gasping only a moment ago. “I can see you have a lot to learn.” She noticed, her eyes studying and unreadable. Kira gulped, but Elayna’s eyes seemed to brighten somewhat. “I’d love to teach you.” She smiled, helping her up. “Now come, my sister is an impatient little bitch, but as much as I love to keep her waiting I’m sure she’ll be eager to see you. It’s just around the hall.” She stated, guiding Kira as they walked.
They paced another few metres before turning a sharp corner and reaching the doors of three rooms. Elayna left Kira’s side and bashed her fist on the left door three times, and for a moment, it seemed as if no one was inside. Elayna prepared to knock on the door again, but the door finally swung open, and in the gap was a small woman in a fine dress, her eyes studying and seemingly upset. Kira nodded to her.
“My Lady, I am-” She started, but Elayna quickly cut her off. “Celia’s newly appointed handmaiden, is she in there, Jade?” Elayna asked with a touch of impatience on her tone, and Kira’s eyes widened as she recognised the name. Jade nodded, yet there was a clear look of distress in her eyes. “My Lady is feeling unwell.” She pleaded hopelessly, but Elayna simply rolled her eyes. “Allow me to introduce her a remedy then.” Elayna stated bluntly, linking her arm with Kira and dragging her past Jade.
Celia’s quarters were lavish in detail, and the scent of roses was thick in the air. Kira’s eyes scanned the room, and before long they fell upon the clumped mess of a princess weeping into her bed. Elayna sighed, parting from Kira. “Sister, what is wrong?” She asked, her tone sympathetic. She joined the weeping girl, pulling her into her arms.
“Father wishes to marry me to a dullard!” She seethed, clenching tightly onto Elayna’s arms, yet the woman seemed to barely acknowledge it. Kira took note. “Dear sister.” Elayna started, a frown heavy on her face. “When I married Ruban, it was not out of the love of my heart, or the respect I had for the man, but for the goodwill of the kingdom. You are, if not more so, doing everything capable for our family’s benefit, and while you may not love this man yet, you will come to in time.” Elayna assured her, but the princess seemed unconvinced. Worse, she seemed unable to convince. Kira stood awkwardly as she watched, and Elayna suddenly remembered her presence.
“Sister, I’d like you to meet your new handmaiden.” She whispered, stroking Celia’s golden blonde hair. The teary girl raised her eyes towards Kira, flashing her a weak smile before returning into Elayna’s shoulder. Elayna flashed Kira a sympathetic smile, before helping Celia up from her misery. “That won’t do, Shortstar.” She teased. “This woman has travelled far and wide to serve you of all people.” Celia raised her eyes again, taking a better look at Kira.
“You’re Valyrian?” She asked, her tone filled with awe, yet still choking on tears. Kira felt left with little option but to nod. “What’s your name?” Kira turned her gaze to Elayna, who nodded warmly. “Kira Tyrner.” She finally replied, before suddenly remembering something. “My Lady.” She added clumsily, which evoked a small smile from Celia. The princess turned her eyes to her sister, flashing her a warm smile.
“Thank you.” She whispered, hugging her again, but Elayna shook her head. “It’s the Plump Merchant you ought to thank.” She stated in boredom, running her hands through Celia’s hair. “I heard he searched for years to find the perfect gift for you.” She mumbled, and Kira fought hard to hold a calm expression. Gift? She thought in disgust. Celia nodded, pulling herself free and wiping the remaining tears away. “She’s perfect.” She stated joyously, and Elayna nodded.
“Well if you will excuse me sister, I believe I promised Lorrhen an audience with our father.” She stated, heading for the door. Celia nodded, and without another word the older sister was gone, with Jade shutting the door behind her. Celia let out a sigh as soon as she was gone. “Pour me a drink, Kira.” She ordered, smoothing out her crumpled bed sheets. Kira remained stunned in place for a moment, searching frantically around the room. Jade joined her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Over there.” She whispered, her eyes looking to a desk with a silver flagon. Kira nodded, walking over.
She grabbed a goblet, and then upturned the flagon until the red wine poured freely into the cup. When nearly filled, Kira placed the flagon down and took the cup, delivering it to Celia. The princess looked down at the liquid with a frown, and then down at Kira. “Thank you.” She muttered, taking a sip. Kira waited in a thick anticipation as Celia savoured the taste. “What do you make of this?” She then asked, passing a scroll to her.
Kira accepted it curiously, unrolling the paper and unleashing her eyes on the contents. It read the following:
King Noriphos of the Seven,
It will be our pleasure to host your daughter and her betrothed at Old Anchor for their celebrations party. Ser Artys Arryn and King Ferron of the Hills will be honoured to attend the service. We once again thank you for your consideration.
Regards, Lord Edmond Melcolm.
Kira lifted her eyes from the letter, passing it back to Celia. “It would seem you have a place in Westeros to attend.” Kira stated, causing Celia to show a thin smile. “So you can read. Good.” She admired, putting the scroll to the candle flame. “I think we’ll get along well, Kira of Valyria.” She said nonchalantly as she watched the paper burn. “I am eager to hear more stories of your time in the Freehold.” She added, and Kira felt a lump build up in her throat. The tension released however when there was a knock at the door.
“My Lady?” Jade asked, and Celia nodded. “Get it.” She ordered, and Jade obediently carried out the task. Hushed voices conversed between the jarred opening, until Jade introduced the visitor. “His Lord, Davios Tallman.” She announced, and Celia let out a frustrated moan.
“Let him in.” She muttered, and Jade did. Kira watched with an awe filled anticipation as the betrothed entered Celia’s quarters. His height honoured his family name, standing taller than any man Kira had ever seen before, and certainly taller than Celia. He had rough but handsome features, with shoulder length blonde hair and a thick stubble, yet what caught Kira’s eye was the bandaged stump at the end of his left arm.
“May I help you, Lord Davios?” Celia asked with an impatient tone, and Kira could see the man looked as uncomfortable as she felt. He let out a small sigh, crossing his arms. “Can we talk?” He asked awkwardly, then eyed Jade and Kira. “In private?” He added, and Celia frowned. “Leave us.” She ordered, and Jade left the room with utter obedience, while Kira remained dormant for a moment. She gained the attention of Lord Davios, who looked at her with eyes of familiarity, before he shook the thought away.
“Kira.” Celia sounded impatiently, and Kira snapped out of her trance. “Sorry, My Lady. My Lord.” She mumbled, following after Jade. The door shut heavily behind her with a loud clunk, and Jade awaited her patiently with a lowered gaze. “Hi.” She greeted nervously,
a thin smile on her lips. Kira gave her a nod. “What now?” Kira asked, causing Jade to shrug.
“I usually just wait here.” She stated, keeping her eyes fixed on Kira’s feet. “I like your dress.” She added with a shaking tone. Kira looked down at her attire, admiring the silk, and then feeling her leg. “Thank you.” Kira mumbled as she placed a hand on her suddenly throbbing leg. The milk. She thought, reaching into her pocket for a vial, yet was she felt tingled and cut at her fingers. Her eyes widened.
Her gaze dropped down to her pocket, which had a large stained patch, and within were shards of shattered glass. Fuck. She wanted to scream, and the increasing pain was only adding onto the temptation. Apparently this distress showed on her face as well. “Don’t worry.” Jade smiled, her eyes finally lifting enough to make contact with. “It happened to me too.” She said in hope to comfort, and it took Kira a moment to realise what she meant, before she frustratingly shook her head. “Excuse me.” Kira muttered, limping past Jade with haste.
She limped towards the place of her impact, where she barely saw the puddle on the white floor. She collapsed to the ground, trying to collect as much of it in her mouth as she could. Only after did she notice the small scroll of paper beside it. She grabbed it, unrolling it and reading the contents. One word. Elayna. Kira gulped at the name. Does she know? Maybe she dropped it. A rush of possibilities rushed through her mind, but one thing was certain, Lorrhen had told her not to trust Elayna.
“Kira?” A voice sounded, and Kira quickly tucked the scroll in her pocket with a rush of paranoia, and turned to meet the concerned eyes of Jade. “Are you okay?” She asked, staring at the Valyrian on the floor. Kira bit her lip, looking to the end of the corridor. If this paper was not a coincidence, then maybe she needed to find Elayna. She had previously offered to help. But with what? Kira groaned to herself. It was all so confusing. Learn the game, the words repeated in her head.
“Nothing.” Kira muttered, rising awkwardly from the floor, she turned her glance back down the corridor. “Are you leaving too?” She asked, a touch of fear in her tone. “Ruby always left me during these times, until she never came back.” She mumbled quietly, and Kira frowned. It was clear this girl was lonely, or perhaps a good actor, or another spy. Kira gritted her teeth, she had to make a decision, and quick.
Like Lorrhen said, she must learn to play the game. She can't hide from Elayna forever. Perhaps, returning this scroll to Elayna will put Kira in her good graces.
a thin smile on her lips. Kira gave her a nod. “What now?” Kira asked, causing Jade to shrug.
“I usually just wait here.” She stated, kee… moreping her eyes fixed on Kira’s feet. “I like your dress.” She added with a shaking tone. Kira looked down at her attire, admiring the silk, and then feeling her leg. “Thank you.” Kira mumbled as she placed a hand on her suddenly throbbing leg. The milk. She thought, reaching into her pocket for a vial, yet was she felt tingled and cut at her fingers. Her eyes widened.
Her gaze dropped down to her pocket, which had a large stained patch, and within were shards of shattered glass. Fuck. She wanted to scream, and the increasing pain was only adding onto the temptation. Apparently this distress showed on her face as well. “Don’t worry.” Jade smiled, her eyes finally lifting enough to make contact with. “It happened to me too.” She said in hope to comfort, and it took Kira a moment to realise what she meant,… [view original content]
a thin smile on her lips. Kira gave her a nod. “What now?” Kira asked, causing Jade to shrug.
“I usually just wait here.” She stated, kee… moreping her eyes fixed on Kira’s feet. “I like your dress.” She added with a shaking tone. Kira looked down at her attire, admiring the silk, and then feeling her leg. “Thank you.” Kira mumbled as she placed a hand on her suddenly throbbing leg. The milk. She thought, reaching into her pocket for a vial, yet was she felt tingled and cut at her fingers. Her eyes widened.
Her gaze dropped down to her pocket, which had a large stained patch, and within were shards of shattered glass. Fuck. She wanted to scream, and the increasing pain was only adding onto the temptation. Apparently this distress showed on her face as well. “Don’t worry.” Jade smiled, her eyes finally lifting enough to make contact with. “It happened to me too.” She said in hope to comfort, and it took Kira a moment to realise what she meant,… [view original content]
It took me a bit to decide here, but in the end, I think that ignoring Elayna is not a good move. The thing is, even Lorrhen himself shook his head when she offered to stay away from her. So, Elayna wishes to talk to her and given that she likely broke the bottle of milk of the poppy, it seems possible that she already suspects something. I believe this is a warning, that she knows something and now wishes to talk about it. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gone to such lengths. Maybe next time, the invite to talk won't be as gentle. On top of that, the effects of the milk of the poppy are wearing off, so Kira really needs to find replacement. Maybe Elayna can help there. She surely cannot serve properly with a sprained leg and well, try to explain that to Celia and Jade. Speaking of, it concerns me that she is forced to put that much effort onto her damaged leg. This cannot end well for her mobility and at worst, it won't heal properly, maybe even leaving her with constant pain. This is another thing Elayna might be able to help her with. It appears she wishes to use her for her own schemes. Given Kira's general situation right now, I simply don't think she is in any position to refuse this offer. Lorrhen told her that she has to learn and I believe that she can't get a better teacher than Elayna. Argh, I just hope I am not wrong here
a thin smile on her lips. Kira gave her a nod. “What now?” Kira asked, causing Jade to shrug.
“I usually just wait here.” She stated, kee… moreping her eyes fixed on Kira’s feet. “I like your dress.” She added with a shaking tone. Kira looked down at her attire, admiring the silk, and then feeling her leg. “Thank you.” Kira mumbled as she placed a hand on her suddenly throbbing leg. The milk. She thought, reaching into her pocket for a vial, yet was she felt tingled and cut at her fingers. Her eyes widened.
Her gaze dropped down to her pocket, which had a large stained patch, and within were shards of shattered glass. Fuck. She wanted to scream, and the increasing pain was only adding onto the temptation. Apparently this distress showed on her face as well. “Don’t worry.” Jade smiled, her eyes finally lifting enough to make contact with. “It happened to me too.” She said in hope to comfort, and it took Kira a moment to realise what she meant,… [view original content]
a thin smile on her lips. Kira gave her a nod. “What now?” Kira asked, causing Jade to shrug.
“I usually just wait here.” She stated, kee… moreping her eyes fixed on Kira’s feet. “I like your dress.” She added with a shaking tone. Kira looked down at her attire, admiring the silk, and then feeling her leg. “Thank you.” Kira mumbled as she placed a hand on her suddenly throbbing leg. The milk. She thought, reaching into her pocket for a vial, yet was she felt tingled and cut at her fingers. Her eyes widened.
Her gaze dropped down to her pocket, which had a large stained patch, and within were shards of shattered glass. Fuck. She wanted to scream, and the increasing pain was only adding onto the temptation. Apparently this distress showed on her face as well. “Don’t worry.” Jade smiled, her eyes finally lifting enough to make contact with. “It happened to me too.” She said in hope to comfort, and it took Kira a moment to realise what she meant,… [view original content]
Alright, so I won't close the voting just yet as I'd like to wait for the others to vote still. However I do have the next part ready, and I can promise that it is a shorter part than Kira's, and it goes to her brother: Darren.
The last we saw Darren, he had awoken in Heart's Home from a concussion that Jegg gave him, and was soon met by Prince Marvion Corbray and Captain Warne Spyre. They informed him of Wyllam's escape, and while the two were glad to see Darren safe and well, Marvion was safe to say a little skeptical of Darren's story. Marvion proceeded to interrogate Darren for answers until Warne stopped him, and decided that Darren's words would be heard in the court before King Qyle. On that court, witnesses brought forward false stories of Darren's aiding in Wyllam's escape, yet Tamarra of the Vale, a travelling Andal sellsword, claimed the story she saw which she was backed by the king for. Coming to an impasse, Qyle decided that this was a fate to be determined by the gods, and left Darren with the option of either taking his chances with the septon's, or in trial by combat. You chose trial by combat, and this part resumes where it concluded last. This is part does not have a choice.
The repugnant stares of the ignorant crowd beared heavy on his shoulders, rising the hairs on the back of his neck and prickling his skin. The eyes of a kingdom looked at him, a kingdom he had served faithfully, and now was wishing to put his fate to those which could do the unmoral. The ‘gods.’ Darren lifted his gaze to Qyle, the man he had deemed a friend until this day, a day which he so easily handed his fate to the cowardice crowd demanding false justice.
“I will prove my innocence through the sword.” Darren announced bitterly, which was followed by snorts and bickering among the crowd. Qyle stared at him with a calm and solemn expression, yet there was a pain in his eyes which wavered. “Who will you name your champion?” He questioned, a slight tremor in his voice. Darren chuckled to himself.
“No man will take my justice from me.” Darren muttered, barely audible. “I will fight.” Darren announced to the crowd, evoking a gasp and putting a hush to their bickering. There was a lump in Qyle’s throat, it was evident in his difficulty to swallow what he had just heard, yet through Darren’s fury he meant his words. I will not serve a man who condemns me to the fate of the gods. He vowed to himself.
“Very well.” The voice of Lord Rogan Ruthermont sounded, sitting back in his chair. “The trial will commence at dawn. The court is dismissed.” He declared, bashing his fist against the table. The nobles of the court slowly fought their way out the narrow exits, and the guards led Darren out of the hall by his chains, passing the witnesses.
Darren’s eyes scanned the three individuals. Kristin, the coward guard. Jorrhen, the cocky merchant. Then Tamarra, a sellsword who stuck her neck out for him. Darren gave his thanks through a nod as his escort dragged him passed, and a small smile touched her lips. Then he was gone, led into the darkness of the dungeons of Heart’s Home.
-
His cell was a damp, cold concealed room of stone and iron. A torch glowed from the centre hall, casting a shadow into Darren’s confinement. Here, Darren sat, his thoughts plaguing him. He had tried to think of manoeuvres that could outsmart his opponent in the trial tomorrow, or was it today? It was hard to tell, minutes had dragged onto hours, and what was no doubt only a few hours had felt like days. That there was no natural light this far down only disorientated time further.
However, Darren’s mind forbid him to think rationally during this time of betrayal, all that was left to think of was vengeance, and he would obtain that soon. His life-changing memories flooded into his head, as clear to him as if it was actually before his eyes. The time he had saved Qyle Corbray from a certain death, and bent the knee to the man. Or the time that Darren had worked for the greedy merchants and politicians of Andalos, or when Darren has sold the family farm. Kira.
His thoughts stretched to the letter. Perhaps he may have been able to see the words of his sister if he hadn’t been so loyal to a man willing to betray him, yet now that chance had past. Maybe he would die tomorrow, fall to his opponent and never see his sister again, never start a new life with her. He shook his head, clenching his hands into fists. That’s not going to happen. He assured himself. He had to live.
The main doors to the Brokenheart Dungeon flung open with haste, smashing against the grimy stone walls. Darren lifted his gaze enough to recognise the familiar face, though whether it was a sign of comfort or not was yet to be determined. Ser Jaime Corbray stormed towards the gaoler with a fiery anger in his eyes, which was an unusual sight for the regularly jovial sweetheart of the Fingers.
“Where is he?” He yelled, startling the gaoler who documented something into his log book. “Who?” He mumbled awkwardly, clearly exhausted from his long shift. “Ser Darren!” Jaime clarified, his words seething and his eyes deadly. This caused the jailer to gulp, and a shaking finger pointed towards Darren’s cell. Jaime followed the direction until his eyes laid sight on Darren, and mellowed down with relief.
“Darren.” He exclaimed, rushing over to the cell. He turned his gaze to the gaoler, now standing by his desk. “Open this door!” Jaime ordered, but the gaoler remained dormant. “Jailer…” Jaime started, a hand placing on the hilt of his blade in warning, but Darren’s robust hand reached out to intercept the boy’s anger. “Jaime, what is it?” Darren perplexed, and Jaime frowned, his eyes were wet.
“We need to get you out of here.” He blurted, turning his attention back to gaoler, but Darren shook his head. “What is it?” He asked again, his tone softened with some sort of expectation. “Father’s champion.” Jaime mumbled, lowering his gaze. Darren lowered himself to meet those eyes. “Who?” He asked, and Jaime seemed almost unable to voice the name. “Who?!” Darren urged him, and a pained sound came from Jaime.
“Marvion.” He managed, the name barely escaping his throat. Darren released Jaime from his grip, falling back on his arse. The King’s son. He thought hopelessly. He even if he did rise victorious, he would have murdered the crown prince to do so, and would not have a place in Heart’s Home. His future had now truly been stripped away from him. The hopeless melancholy transferred into furious enragement, which unleashed itself against the bars of iron.
“Fuck him!” Darren shouted, bashing his head against the iron. “That damn bastard! FUCK HIM!” Darren screamed, his lungs emptying his voice into the air, the observant eyes from the opposing cells watching with awe. “This was Qyle’s plan all along, wasn’t it?” Darren finally muttered, sinking to the ground. Jaime shook his head, tears streaming down his eyes.
“Marvion volunteered. He believes you a traitor, and claims the Seven will back him.” He mumbled weakly, but Darren shook his head bitterly. “Qyle has betrayed me,” Darren stated nonchalantly, “and justice will be served.” Darren swore, but Jaime shook his head. “It won’t.” He mumbled miserably, gaining Darren’s attention. “Marvion is the best swordsman I’ve ever seen, certainly the best in the east.” Jaime stated melancholically. “You’ll die.” He sniffled, and Darren flashed him a weak, sympathetic smile.
“Nice to see at least one Qorbray cares for my wellbeing.” Darren chuckled, but Jaime could not bring himself to smile. “It doesn’t have to be this way.” Jaime stated in an attempt to persuade. “Warne has agreed to get you out. We can go east, to Ser Artys. He will take us in.” Jaime assured him, but Darren just shook his head.
“I can’t do that, Jaime. If it’s Marvion I must fight, it will be Marvion that I kill.” Darren stated bluntly, causing Jaime to widen his eyes. “Darren, you won’t stand a chance!” He exclaimed, but Darren just sighed. “If that’s all…” Darren muttered, causing Jaime to bash his fist against the iron. “Damn you! You stubborn bastard.” He spat, pulling himself up and making his way for the doors before halting. “No one needs to die tomorrow.” Jaime muttered, almost in a hopeless plea, before exiting the dungeons, leaving Darren to his dreadful thoughts.
-
The Venous inlet flowed calmly passed Heart’s Home and inland as Darren was released from his chains. He stood on the pebbles of his battlefield, wet from the morning dew. Here, Darren was surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, involving that of the king, and Prince Jaime. Across the arena, Prince Marvion stood tall, donned in white steel armour, bearing the crest of House Corbray on his chest and steel kite shield.
Standing independently in the earth were a pair of longswords. Lady Forlorn glimmered in the morning sky, the Valyrian steel refracting the light of the rising sun onto the stones below, seven distinct colours. Seven gods. Darren’s sword was naught but a steel longsword, which was barely a match for the art of Valyrian’s. Regardless, Darren put his trust in his sword and the skill of the man who wielded it. He stood tall in his reforged plated armour, the mail scraping against the metal with each heavy breath. His gaze stared at the septon between the swords, who looked to the crowd for courage.
“In the sight of the Seven and their diligent servants, we gather to witness the guilt or innocence of Ser Darren Tyrner. May the Father deliver justice as it is deserved, the Mother give mercy to he who deserves, the Warrior guide the sword of he who deserves…” The septon stumbled on his words as King Qyle raised his hand to silence him, and a horn was sounded. “Let’s have this over with.” He announced with some uncertainty, and the septon nodded, leaving the arena with haste. Darren reached for his shield, strapping the metal to his arm.
When the second horn was sounded, the two opponents met each other at the centre of the arena to retrieve their swords. Marvion’s sharp blue eyes pierced at Darren’s, causing a shiver down his spine. The two freed their weapons from the earth without a word, and paced a few steps back, entering a battle stance. Darren raised spun his weapon through his gloved fingers, getting a feel for the balance before raising his shield. His opponent stared at him with merciless eyes.
Without a second more, Marvion paced forward, the wet Valyrian steel pointed for Darren’s chest. Darren inhaled a deep breath, and exhaled just as Marvion threw his first strike. Darren caught the blow with his shield, staggering him back a few steps. He quickly recovered, and only just met Marvion’s second strike with a well-placed parry. Their two swords sparked on impact, sliding across each other until they were freed. Darren took the opportunity to go on an offensive.
He charged forward, swinging his longsword at Marvion’s head, which was merely blocked by his shield. Darren pushed further, thrusting at his chest, which was dodged and parried with no attempt to counter. He’s stalling. Darren noticed, catching his breath as he halted a moment. He’s trying to tire me out. He realised, backing away. He lifted his shield into a defensive posture, he needed to conserve his energy.
Awaiting for the man to pursue him, he instead did something which surprised him. Planting Lady Forlorn into the ground, Marvion undid the straps to his shield, tossing the metal to the ground. “Let’s cut the child’s play, shall we?” He taunted him, but Darren showed no response to his mockery. Instead he quickly freed his arm of his shield, throwing away the extra weight. A smirk touching the prince’s lips, Darren took grip of his longsword with both hands, and parried Marvion’s first blow.
It was quickly followed by a second, then a third, and a fourth. Darren merely parried the last before he had to push Marvion back to give him a moment to recover. He then ran his sword against the stones beneath them, before slashing at Marvion’s waist. He responded by jumping back, but Darren continued his attack. He swinged at Marvion’s sword arm, which the man barely managed to parry. He swung again, this time for the hip, which he surprisingly managed to hit. His sword dug into the chainmail, and Marvion took advantage of Darren’s lodged sword, tightening his grip around the steel. Realising his ambitions, Darren stepped back just before Marvion could slash him with Lady Forlorn, leaving him disarmed.
Marvion freed the longsword from his armour, tossing it into the river before pursuing Darren. He twisted the blade in his hands, cautiously eying Darren’s movement. Darren, left unarmed, frantically searched for options. There were few. Marvion swung the Valyrian steel blade at him, which Darren caught in the shoulder. He grunted as the steel cut deep, directly through the plating and into his flesh. He took the opportunity to land a well-placed punch on the Corbray’s jaw, which threw him off balance and into the ground, causing the crowd to gasp.
Darren took hold on the longsword, groaning as he freed it from his shoulder, and then tossed it to the ground. He chased after the fleeing man, jumping on him and throwing another punch. This was barely protected by his raised forearms, which recoiled into his face. Darren grasped his hands together, lifting them into the air and smashing them down onto Marvion’s chest plate, denting the steel and winding the prince. A gasp of air escaped his chest, and Darren stagged a moment as his armed stung from the movement. This gave Marvion a dirty opportunity.
He barely foresaw the rock flying towards his skull until it was too late, and the impact had taken place. Darren fell back into the gathering of the stone’s origins, bewildered and blurred. His vision spun and his hearing faded in and out, while his hands coursed over the stones around him. Before long, Marvion had re-entered his vision, his shield raised in the air, prepared to strike at Darren’s chest. His hands barely secured around the heart pommel of Lady Forlorn when the shield came thundering down, and as it did, Lady Forlorn swiftly flew up.
Darren eyes stared painfully into the blue eyes of Marvion Corbray, whose gaze showed a determination crumbled by shock and disbelief. A crunch occurred as the shield dented through Darren’s chest plate shortly after, digging into his chest and stealing his air. Marvion stood over him with a surprised gaze, and then blood funnelled out of his mouth. The prince tumbled down beside the knight, his sword entered through his side and exited through his collar. He silently gurgled on his own blood as Darren focused on the shield implanted into his chest.
“Argh!” Darren shouted, taking grasp of the steel and freeing it. Blood erupted from the open wound, and his breath had weakened. Yet this would not stop him. He tossed the shield aside, despite it causing him agonising pain, and pulled himself to his knees. His gaze fell upon Marvion, who stared aimlessly at towards Darren as he slowly died, his gaze pleading and sorrowful.
Darren reached for the hilt of Lady Forlorn, pulling her free. She was bathed in the blood of her master, who winced and squirmed as Darren freed her, until the life he so dearly clutched onto left him, and all that remained was a blood-escaping corpse. Darren turned his gaze to the crowd, spotting the shocked and pained gazes of the nobles, until his eyes found King Qyle, who was frozen in place. Darren tossed Lady Forlorn at his feet, before his ribs and shoulder finally reminded him of their suffering. He collapsed in the pool of Marvion and his own blood, his vision darkening until all was black.
a thin smile on her lips. Kira gave her a nod. “What now?” Kira asked, causing Jade to shrug.
“I usually just wait here.” She stated, kee… moreping her eyes fixed on Kira’s feet. “I like your dress.” She added with a shaking tone. Kira looked down at her attire, admiring the silk, and then feeling her leg. “Thank you.” Kira mumbled as she placed a hand on her suddenly throbbing leg. The milk. She thought, reaching into her pocket for a vial, yet was she felt tingled and cut at her fingers. Her eyes widened.
Her gaze dropped down to her pocket, which had a large stained patch, and within were shards of shattered glass. Fuck. She wanted to scream, and the increasing pain was only adding onto the temptation. Apparently this distress showed on her face as well. “Don’t worry.” Jade smiled, her eyes finally lifting enough to make contact with. “It happened to me too.” She said in hope to comfort, and it took Kira a moment to realise what she meant,… [view original content]
Oh man, finally had the time to write the longer response this part deserves
This was an awesome part! Oh man, this was amazing. Certainly my favourite part for Darren's storyline in this chapter and likely one of my favourite parts in general. The trial by combat came faster than expected, but you did some very nice build-up over the course of this part, culminating in a truly epic battle. And what can I say... whoa. I was legitimately speechless for a moment. I expected Darren to get a very hard fight there and he surely got it, but I did not expect literally anything surrounding it. Him fighting the king's son was a cruel twist to this already cruel situation and having Marvion fight with Lady Forlorn makes it clear to me that there was never meant to be any true justice. Though he got very badly wounded here, Darren just beat the odds and I am sure he ruined more than one plan with his survival. Most importantly, I guess he ruined Qyle's plan, whatever it was. I am sure that Qyle never expected his son to die, but the fact that he so willingly sent his friend and loyal servant to death shows me that he had some sort of a plan, that he was in on this plan to frame Darren. And for this, he absolutely deserves losing his firstborn son and the pain that comes with it. He'd deserve worse, far worse, but I guess this will be all the vengeance there will be for now and it is delicious. If Jaime wouldn't be actually a decent guy, I'd call for his death as well just to spite that royal asshole. Now... well, if Qyle could just throw himself into a sword, I'd be satisfied. That fucker deserves worse than he got, but I am truly gleeful to know that he is going to mourn his son dearly. He brought it up on himself, he screwed his friend over for no reason and his son had to pay the price.
However, there is one guy whom I think will be interested in this. While I doubt he has expected Darren to win, there is Jorrhen, who previously told Darren about his intention to force him into servitude. Unless his plan was to use Darren as a fall guy, I am sure there will be further developments out of this. After all, I wouldn't be surprised if he arranged for Marvion to fight, to make sure that Darren would have no place at Qyle's side even if he actually manages to win. Maybe, in a twisted way, he will even be the one to save Darren's life, because I am pretty sure that Qyle will not bother with treating Darren's pretty serious wounds. Somebody has to and Jorrhen certainly has the means to get his wounds treated, as well as a seeming interest in him. I also just realized, maybe Tamarra is working for him actually, maybe she is meant to win Darren's trust, so that he will work with her and follow Jorrhen's orders without even knowing he is working for that guy. While I doubt Qyle had further plans, I am pretty sure that Jorrhen is going to use the opportunity this poses. And though technically a free man, I am sure that Darren's time as a pawn has only begun. And well, as scary as this thought is, I am very much hyped for what is going to come in his storyline. I also realized that somehow, both he and Kira got themselves used as pawns for Lorrhen and Jorrhen. I wonder if this was a conincidence, or if one of them only gained the interest of these two assholes after the other already had their encounter with them.
Darren
The repugnant stares of the ignorant crowd beared heavy on his shoulders, rising the hairs on the back of his neck and prickling h… moreis skin. The eyes of a kingdom looked at him, a kingdom he had served faithfully, and now was wishing to put his fate to those which could do the unmoral. The ‘gods.’ Darren lifted his gaze to Qyle, the man he had deemed a friend until this day, a day which he so easily handed his fate to the cowardice crowd demanding false justice.
“I will prove my innocence through the sword.” Darren announced bitterly, which was followed by snorts and bickering among the crowd. Qyle stared at him with a calm and solemn expression, yet there was a pain in his eyes which wavered. “Who will you name your champion?” He questioned, a slight tremor in his voice. Darren chuckled to himself.
“No man will take my justice from me.” Darren muttered, barely audible. “I will fight.” Darren announced to the crowd, evoking a ga… [view original content]
This was an awesome part! Oh man, this was amazing. Certainly my favourite part for Darren's storyline in this chapter and likely one of my favourite parts in general. The trial by combat came faster than expected, but you did some very nice build-up over the course of this part, culminating in a truly epic battle. And what can I say... whoa. I was legitimately speechless for a moment. I expected Darren to get a very hard fight there and he surely got it, but I did not expect literally anything surrounding it. Him fighting the king's son was a cruel twist to this already cruel situation and having Marvion fight with Lady Forlorn makes it clear to me that there was never meant to be any true justice. Though he got very badly wounded here, Darren just beat the odds and I am sure he ruined more than one plan with his survival. Most importantly, I guess he ruined Qyle's plan, whatever it was. I am sure that Qyle never expected his son to die, but the fact that he so willingly sent his friend and loyal servant to death shows me that he had some sort of a plan, that he was in on this plan to frame Darren. And for this, he absolutely deserves losing his firstborn son and the pain that comes with it. He'd deserve worse, far worse, but I guess this will be all the vengeance there will be for now and it is delicious. If Jaime wouldn't be actually a decent guy, I'd call for his death as well just to spite that royal asshole. Now... well, if Qyle could just throw himself into a sword, I'd be satisfied. That fucker deserves worse than he got, but I am truly gleeful to know that he is going to mourn his son dearly. He brought it up on himself, he screwed his friend over for no reason and his son had to pay the price.
Thank you, I'm glad you liked it Indeed, fighting Marvion was a bit of a cruel reveal to Darren, who has had a lot to do with during his service with Qyle, basically watching the man develop into who he is now. Or was Though you are right, with Marvion's defeat, a lot of Qyle's plans against the First Men have been pretty fucked over, and he's definitely lost the love and respect from his other son as a consequence. So there is a lot of suffering for Darren's old friend to endure.
However, there is one guy whom I think will be interested in this. While I doubt he has expected Darren to win, there is Jorrhen, who previously told Darren about his intention to force him into servitude. Unless his plan was to use Darren as a fall guy, I am sure there will be further developments out of this. After all, I wouldn't be surprised if he arranged for Marvion to fight, to make sure that Darren would have no place at Qyle's side even if he actually manages to win. Maybe, in a twisted way, he will even be the one to save Darren's life, because I am pretty sure that Qyle will not bother with treating Darren's pretty serious wounds. Somebody has to and Jorrhen certainly has the means to get his wounds treated, as well as a seeming interest in him. I also just realized, maybe Tamarra is working for him actually, maybe she is meant to win Darren's trust, so that he will work with her and follow Jorrhen's orders without even knowing he is working for that guy. While I doubt Qyle had further plans, I am pretty sure that Jorrhen is going to use the opportunity this poses. And though technically a free man, I am sure that Darren's time as a pawn has only begun. And well, as scary as this thought is, I am very much hyped for what is going to come in his storyline. I also realized that somehow, both he and Kira got themselves used as pawns for Lorrhen and Jorrhen. I wonder if this was a conincidence, or if one of them only gained the interest of these two assholes after the other already had their encounter with them.
Definitely. While Jorrhen himself may not have watched the battles, bets are that he certainly had a lot of impact on it, just as he aroused the whole situation by freeing Wyllam in the first instance. So he's certainly in it to create chaos, and you may be right in that the Corbray's won't be all that interested in helping a man that they not only condemned to death, but also murdered their crown prince. Though yes, Kira and Darren are definitely in some grounds which they will find they have little control in, and as for coincidences. Well, both Darren and Kira are working for men with rhyming names who are also related, both Darren and Kira are related, both have seriously large enemies and both are severely injured as well Who knows, Jorrhen certainly has access to the medical expertise that belongs to his father, though he's definitely not like his father, so he may be a little less obliged to help Darren without confirmation on something in return.
Oh man, finally had the time to write the longer response this part deserves
This was an awesome part! Oh man, this was amazing. Certain… morely my favourite part for Darren's storyline in this chapter and likely one of my favourite parts in general. The trial by combat came faster than expected, but you did some very nice build-up over the course of this part, culminating in a truly epic battle. And what can I say... whoa. I was legitimately speechless for a moment. I expected Darren to get a very hard fight there and he surely got it, but I did not expect literally anything surrounding it. Him fighting the king's son was a cruel twist to this already cruel situation and having Marvion fight with Lady Forlorn makes it clear to me that there was never meant to be any true justice. Though he got very badly wounded here, Darren just beat the odds and I am sure he ruined more than one plan with his survival. Most importantly, I guess he ruined Qyl… [view original content]
a thin smile on her lips. Kira gave her a nod. “What now?” Kira asked, causing Jade to shrug.
“I usually just wait here.” She stated, kee… moreping her eyes fixed on Kira’s feet. “I like your dress.” She added with a shaking tone. Kira looked down at her attire, admiring the silk, and then feeling her leg. “Thank you.” Kira mumbled as she placed a hand on her suddenly throbbing leg. The milk. She thought, reaching into her pocket for a vial, yet was she felt tingled and cut at her fingers. Her eyes widened.
Her gaze dropped down to her pocket, which had a large stained patch, and within were shards of shattered glass. Fuck. She wanted to scream, and the increasing pain was only adding onto the temptation. Apparently this distress showed on her face as well. “Don’t worry.” Jade smiled, her eyes finally lifting enough to make contact with. “It happened to me too.” She said in hope to comfort, and it took Kira a moment to realise what she meant,… [view original content]
Thank you, I'm glad you liked it Indeed, fighting Marvion was a bit of a cruel reveal to Darren, who has had a lot to do with during his service with Qyle, basically watching the man develop into who he is now. Or was Though you are right, with Marvion's defeat, a lot of Qyle's plans against the First Men have been pretty fucked over, and he's definitely lost the love and respect from his other son as a consequence. So there is a lot of suffering for Darren's old friend to endure.
Yeah, Jaime having lost the respect for his father is very much something I approve of. Qyle is an utter piece of shit and he deserves this. At the same time, as loathsome as he is, he is a bit pathetic as well. I mean, that man just screwed over his best friend and still managed to lose so much in the process, while winning literally nothing. Safe to say, I have lost every bit of respect for the man. Darren though... shit, he is probably going to feel guilty as heck for this, because as much as Qyle is responsible for his son's death, Marvion has been a pawn here, not the kind of guy who deserved to die.
Definitely. While Jorrhen himself may not have watched the battles, bets are that he certainly had a lot of impact on it, just as he aroused the whole situation by freeing Wyllam in the first instance. So he's certainly in it to create chaos, and you may be right in that the Corbray's won't be all that interested in helping a man that they not only condemned to death, but also murdered their crown prince. Though yes, Kira and Darren are definitely in some grounds which they will find they have little control in, and as for coincidences. Well, both Darren and Kira are working for men with rhyming names who are also related, both Darren and Kira are related, both have seriously large enemies and both are severely injured as well Who knows, Jorrhen certainly has access to the medical expertise that belongs to his father, though he's definitely not like his father, so he may be a little less obliged to help Darren without confirmation on something in return.
He hasn't even watched the battle? Now that is the definition of arrogance. That smug little prick is so confident in himself it seems, so I am sure that he has something else planned, an additional trick up his sleeve. I am sure he would like to use Darren for his future plans and with him claiming to have Kira as his hostage (and given who his father is, he might not be entirely lying there), he has something to control Darren. My money's on him to be the one to treat Darren's wounds, in return for his own personal hedge knight to command of course. As much as Lorrhen has probably helped Kira out of a shred of humanity, Jorrhen is surely going to want something in return and it's probably a good thing that Darren, having just proven himself to be one of the best fighters in the entire kingdom, has a lot to offer.
This was an awesome part! Oh man, this was amazing. Certainly my favourite part for Darren's storyline in this chapter and likely one of my … morefavourite parts in general. The trial by combat came faster than expected, but you did some very nice build-up over the course of this part, culminating in a truly epic battle. And what can I say... whoa. I was legitimately speechless for a moment. I expected Darren to get a very hard fight there and he surely got it, but I did not expect literally anything surrounding it. Him fighting the king's son was a cruel twist to this already cruel situation and having Marvion fight with Lady Forlorn makes it clear to me that there was never meant to be any true justice. Though he got very badly wounded here, Darren just beat the odds and I am sure he ruined more than one plan with his survival. Most importantly, I guess he ruined Qyle's plan, whatever it was. I am sure that Qyle never expected his son to die, but… [view original content]
Hey guys, so I'm going to announce that the vote has been closed for Kira's part, she will choose to find Elayna, however there was some other things I'd like to bring up. As you've probably noticed, my activity has been pretty minimal as of late. While this has been due to commitments and school, I've usually found the time to hit out at least a part per weak, however I'm fearful that progress is going to hibernate.
You see, I have my mid-years in three weeks, which is enough stress alone, but the bastards also love to stack us up with assignments, essays and prac reports before then. So I've got a lot on my plate, and unfortunately that means I'm going to be putting my writing aside until all this has passed. There of course may be some days I get sick of it all and just write out a part, but that won't be regular, so consistency won't return for another four weeks. Apologies in advance.
I will still monitor the forums, and be active enough to read and, hopefully soon after, reply to PM's. After my exams are over, I'll have another two weeks or so of school until I reach my next term break, in which I should have a pretty good rhythm up by then, and all other projects I've been working on I'll resume Oh and another thing, I've tidied up the chapters a little, organising them into books. It's three chapters per book, but as of today, the Invasion just gained a third book onto the list
Ah, this is no problem, thank you for informing us about this School is important and as far as I know, these mid-years are among the most important things you're going to do in your school life. So, don't worry, just ace them. After all, the break won't even be all that long. Four weeks, potentially with one or two parts in it if you get sick of fully concentrating on that school stuff, that doesn't sound too bad. We can surely wait and I doubt anyone won't be here anymore when you return in full. Safe to say though, I am hyped for the coming parts
And three more chapters, I see! Now, that is awesome. Of course, it is pretty far in the future, so I cannot give much in terms of speculation, as opposed to the titles of the second book. Although these titles do sound very interesting. I kind of expect the Northern Star to be some sort of a nickname, though I don't know who this could be. A villain maybe? Hm, I kind of expected the Father from the Chapter 6 title to be a villain already (or several fathers on all ends of the moral spectrum), so I don't know. The ninth chapter intrigues me the most, surprisingly, mostly because I did not expect the final chapter of the Invasion to be named after boogeyman stories of questionable substance. So, I kind of doubt that Grumkin's and Snark's are suddenly going to appear in the story, so maybe this is a metaphorical title, maybe something that was up to then believed to be real is going to turn out to be quite the opposite. Whatever it is, I am sure these chapter titles will give me more to work with in the future. One thing is for sure, I will look out for anyone or anything that could be this Northern Star.
Hey guys, so I'm going to announce that the vote has been closed for Kira's part, she will choose to find Elayna, however there was some oth… moreer things I'd like to bring up. As you've probably noticed, my activity has been pretty minimal as of late. While this has been due to commitments and school, I've usually found the time to hit out at least a part per weak, however I'm fearful that progress is going to hibernate.
You see, I have my mid-years in three weeks, which is enough stress alone, but the bastards also love to stack us up with assignments, essays and prac reports before then. So I've got a lot on my plate, and unfortunately that means I'm going to be putting my writing aside until all this has passed. There of course may be some days I get sick of it all and just write out a part, but that won't be regular, so consistency won't return for another four weeks. Apologies in advance.
I will still monitor the forums, and be active … [view original content]
And three more chapters, I see! Now, that is awesome. Of course, it is pretty far in the future, so I cannot give much in terms of speculation, as opposed to the titles of the second book. Although these titles do sound very interesting. I kind of expect the Northern Star to be some sort of a nickname, though I don't know who this could be. A villain maybe? Hm, I kind of expected the Father from the Chapter 6 title to be a villain already (or several fathers on all ends of the moral spectrum), so I don't know. The ninth chapter intrigues me the most, surprisingly, mostly because I did not expect the final chapter of the Invasion to be named after boogeyman stories of questionable substance. So, I kind of doubt that Grumkin's and Snark's are suddenly going to appear in the story, so maybe this is a metaphorical title, maybe something that was up to then believed to be real is going to turn out to be quite the opposite. Whatever it is, I am sure these chapter titles will give me more to work with in the future. One thing is for sure, I will look out for anyone or anything that could be this Northern Star.
Indeed, it will help lead the Invasion into her sequel when that time comes (which will be no time soon at this rate ). I won't say much apart from you may be right with the ninth chapter title Anyway, I've added the house images to the books as well, which may help
Ah, this is no problem, thank you for informing us about this School is important and as far as I know, these mid-years are among the most … moreimportant things you're going to do in your school life. So, don't worry, just ace them. After all, the break won't even be all that long. Four weeks, potentially with one or two parts in it if you get sick of fully concentrating on that school stuff, that doesn't sound too bad. We can surely wait and I doubt anyone won't be here anymore when you return in full. Safe to say though, I am hyped for the coming parts
And three more chapters, I see! Now, that is awesome. Of course, it is pretty far in the future, so I cannot give much in terms of speculation, as opposed to the titles of the second book. Although these titles do sound very interesting. I kind of expect the Northern Star to be some sort of a nickname, though I don't know who this could be. A villain maybe? Hm, I kind of expected the Father f… [view original content]
House Northstar is a house then, I see! Now, that is unexpected, especially as they haven't been mentioned in the story so far. So, I guess this house will only be formed in the story proper and I guess they will play a role in the sequel. That makes me wonder if we might have already met future members of this house, given that it is probably going to be founded by a major character if they get a whole book dedicated to them. You got me intrigued, but at the same time, I doubt there will be much hints to who is going to found this house and how and why they are so important, at least not until the second half of Book 2. But I'll keep my eyes open
And three more chapters, I see! Now, that is awesome. Of course, it is pretty far in the future, so I cannot give much in terms of speculati… moreon, as opposed to the titles of the second book. Although these titles do sound very interesting. I kind of expect the Northern Star to be some sort of a nickname, though I don't know who this could be. A villain maybe? Hm, I kind of expected the Father from the Chapter 6 title to be a villain already (or several fathers on all ends of the moral spectrum), so I don't know. The ninth chapter intrigues me the most, surprisingly, mostly because I did not expect the final chapter of the Invasion to be named after boogeyman stories of questionable substance. So, I kind of doubt that Grumkin's and Snark's are suddenly going to appear in the story, so maybe this is a metaphorical title, maybe something that was up to then believed to be real is going to turn out to be quite the opposite. Whatever it is, I am sur… [view original content]
The Northstar's certainly will play a large role in the final book, in a sense bringing the Invasion back to its northern origins. We have met the founder of this house, who has of course yet to find it
House Northstar is a house then, I see! Now, that is unexpected, especially as they haven't been mentioned in the story so far. So, I guess … morethis house will only be formed in the story proper and I guess they will play a role in the sequel. That makes me wonder if we might have already met future members of this house, given that it is probably going to be founded by a major character if they get a whole book dedicated to them. You got me intrigued, but at the same time, I doubt there will be much hints to who is going to found this house and how and why they are so important, at least not until the second half of Book 2. But I'll keep my eyes open
Ah, I expected that Now I have to wonder who it will be, given that there is no Northstar yet. It has to be someone with little reason to use his old name, as I guess most of the characters in the story would just use that one. If we go by northern characters, Steffon would likely be Lord Cale, Dormund seems destined to be Lord Bolton and so on. One character who currently is in the north and has not much attachement to her family name is Alara, but I am not sure if she'd choose Northstar as the name of her own house, as she might leave the North (hopefully) and this name seems to hint at someone from the North, or someone who travels to the North, which would open the door for Andals as well. One of the Andals who probably has an interest in going north would be Davios, but I don't think he'd pick another name than Lord Tallman. Ah, I am sure that whomever it will be, it will be unexpected, yet will make a lot of sense at the same time and I cannot wait to learn more about it
The Northstar's certainly will play a large role in the final book, in a sense bringing the Invasion back to its northern origins. We have met the founder of this house, who has of course yet to find it
A gasp escaped his cold corpse as water was flushed out from his lungs onto the pebbles beside him, and an instant shiver crawled over his numb pale skin. He was surrounded by shadows, looming over him with piercing glares, yet all Wyllam could concentrate on was his breathing. He was alive, barely.
“That’s right, get it all out,” a voice encouraged him, patting him on the back. It wasn’t long before Wyllam slightly came to his senses, turning to his saviours. His torturer knelt by him with a sickening grin, his dirty hand on Wyllam’s trembling shoulders. “Hello,” he greeted sinisterly through his grin, causing Wyllam’s instincts to kick in. He swiped the man’s hand from his shoulder, starting to crawl back, before his eyes landed on the glimmering wet steel of a blade placed at his throat.
“No further shit fingers,” he barked, digging the steel into Wyllam throat. “Get him in binds, we’ll start a fire and rest before we head back,” Rylan stated with boredom, washing his hands in the icy rivulet. Wyllam barely recognised Rylan’s son, Aidin, who had been the cocky guard under Warne Spyre’s Guard. Fear now haunted his eyes.
“Are you sure that’s wise, father?” he asked with a shaky tone, causing Rylan to raise an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t it be?” He spat into his hands, greasing back his slicked hair. Aidin gulped. “We’re pretty far into Belmore lands,” Aidin mumbled with a barely audible tone, causing his father to chuckle.
“Belmore’s,” he muttered with a roll of the eyes. “Those fucks will be kissing our balls after they see Lord Wyllam over here,” he assured his son with a firm hand on his shoulder before turning his gaze to the knight with the sword to Wyllam’s throat. “Put him out, Harlick,” he ordered, and the knight obeyed without hesitance, pulling the blade away and sending the pommel into the back of Wyllam’s skull. Darkness flooded Wyllam’s vision in an instant.
-
The soft crackles of a fire was the first thing Wyllam heard when he regained consciousness, thought it was the heat that truly awoke him. Wyllam finally felt warm, and he could feel the movement in his toes, and some of his fingers. However both his ring fingers were extremely numb, as well as the pinky on his left hand.
When his eyes lowered to his hands in curiosity, they were met with a grim result. His lower two fingers on his left hand were black with frostbite, and his right ring finger… Naught but a mere stump of what once had been. He would have screamed with shock had the gag not muffled the sound to a mere moan. It gained the attention of Ser Harlick.
“Shut it, filth!” he ordered, shoving his boot into Wyllam’s side, causing him to groan more. Harlick paid him little attention, returning back to oiling his longsword. Rylan joined Wyllam by the fire, a tired look on his eyes. The sun was starting to fall in the west.
“We’ve ridden a long way to find you, and not even a thank you in return? I believe some appreciation is in place for saving your drowning arse,” he chucked, warming his hands by the fire. Wyllam glared at the torturer with menacing eyes, causing Rylan to grin. “What it would take to throw me into this fire is what you’re not doubt thinking,” he presumed with a cocky tone, but Wyllam did not flinch.
“You should kill me,” Wyllam muttered coldly, staring at the ropes which bound his frostbitten hands together. Identical binds were tied around his ankles, keeping him seated to the soil. Rylan smirked, standing himself up. “I’m sure that’s what you’d like,” he taunted, tapping Wyllam on the cheek. He rose up and walked over to his horse.
“However, Qyle has more important plans for you. Plans which will assure your little rebellion is crumbled.” Rylan pulled a dagger from his horse’s saddle, the bloodthirsty grin returned to his lips. “I suppose he doesn’t need all of you,” he remarked, twirling the dagger between his fingers. Wyllam gulped, trying to squirm away, but Rylan’s pace easily caught up with Wyllam’s struggle.
“So, balls or eye? How about-” His sentence was cut short as a something caught him in his thigh, sending a shrieking yelp of agony from him as he collapsed on the ground. Wyllam spotted the bronze tip arrow sticking out the other side of Rylan’s leg.
Harlick arose from his seat, arming himself with a shield and his sword. A second arrow came flying towards him, which was merely dodged by Harlick’s shield. Meanwhile, Rylan cursed the archer in agony, only to receive another in his back. “Come out you coward!” Harlick shouted, clearly enraged.
There was a moment of thick, suffocating anticipation with a longing silence, before a nickering horse erupted from the trees. The rider drew an arrow and released it into Harlick’s neck as his steed came thundering past. The knight stumbled a moment, almost seeming unaffected before he crumbled to his knees, falling limp into the soil by Wyllam’s side. Wyllam took the opportunity to work at his bindings with the blade, but was quickly met by the injured Rylan.
“Not so fast,” he spat, blood rushing from his mouth. He reached for Wyllam with his dagger before copping a final arrow through the throat. He sunk to the ground shortly after. Wyllam gulped, turning his gaze to his hooded saviour. Wyllam was left wordless, and his eyes quickly spotted the half nude and gagged Aidin on the back of the archer’s horse, who now dismounted.
His bow was crafted from a fine wood, and his bronze arrows suggested he was First Man. It was only when he removed his hood that Wyllam recognised him. His long wavy brown hair was of a similar length to what Wyllam’s had grown to, yet it was clearly washed and hygienic. His beard was well groomed, and his eyes dark brown. It was Paytan Hunter.
“Paytan?” Wyllam uttered in disbelief, and the kingsguard nodded in acknowledgement, taking Rylan’s dagger and attending to Wyllam’s bounds. “How can this be?” Paytan grinned, turned his gaze back to the tearing Aidin. “I found this one out searching for berries as I was hunting. Everything about him screamed Andal, and being so far into these lands, I had to investigate,” Paytan stated proudly, cutting through Wyllam’s bindings. “Good thing I did,” he added, and Wyllam nodded indefinitely, feeling his wrists loosen.
“Thank you,” Wyllam mumbled, the sight of Paytan was surreal. As soon as his hands were free he pulled Paytan into a tight embracement. It had felt like years since he had seen one of Robar’s most trusted warriors, and Paytan only proved his skills again. Paytan accepted the embracement graciously, pulling Wyllam close. “It’s good to see you again, Belmore,” he stated with an honest delight, and Wyllam could not even begin to voice his relief to see a friendly face. It had been so long.
“Let me free you of these ropes, then we can get you back to Strongsong,” Paytan informed as he cut the last bindings from Wyllam’s ankles. Before long, Paytan had Wyllam back on his feet, and a fur cloak over his shoulders. “Thank you,” Wyllam repeated, and Paytan nodded warmly. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Comments
Well I may be wrongly interpreting the drawing here, Warmond's hair was naturally a strawberry blonde before he died it a dark green. I believe the eyebrows are his original hair colour, but as I said I could be completely wrong
Well, it's not like Warmond would be my character, but that was how I understood it as well - that his hair was originally strawberry blonde, but he just got to the habit of dying his hair and beard. And I just thought leaving something in the original color would be a nice touch. I mean, I assume dying your eyebrows would be bloody annoying to do anyway
Ah, strawberry blonde, I see! It seriously looks a bit like gold and I thought he might be a bit like Book-Daario, who really just dyes his beard for attention. Under closer inspection, it indeed looks more like strawberry blonde, but that on its own is not all that far away from golden, being a darker shade of blonde after all. I blame the combination between the eyebrows and the hair, as well as the unmistakably golden things he is wearing
Ah, a shame, I would have loved a golden moustache, that would be the most hilariously flamboyant thing I could imagine, especially from a guy like Warmond, whom I haven't really seen as the kind of guy to be all that flashy and extravagant so far. Doesn't take away how much I appreciate this drawing though 
Hey guys, a new H&L here! I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think
The Invasion – Histories&Lore
Bethany Caron – Duty
"Alara?" Gareth's voice rang through the hallway. "ALARA!" This time, he was loud enough that Bethany groaned in annoyance. Did he really have to be that loud? It was a warm day, the sun having heated up the marches to a point where Bethany legitimately yearned for the dark, soothingly cool night. It was a pressing heat, making it hard to breathe and Bethany found it to be the most comfortable in her room, with the shutters closed. At least the darkness gave her some tiny relief from the heat.
Even better, it meant that she was able to shut out the entire situation surrounding her. It had been bad lately, more than ever before. Father would say something to hurt mother. Mother would cry. Ryman would be angry. Father would say something to hurt Alara. Alara would cry. Although she had gotten different lately. Her little sister stopped being all that little. Slowly but steadily, the anger she had towards the man she called her father was growing. Bethany herself was trapped in the middle there. She loved her mother, she loved her little sister. But how could she side against her father? The dutiful daughter...
Frantic knocking at her door caused her to roll her eyes. "Bethany?", Gareth gasped. "Bethy! Come on, I know you're in there!" As he spoke, Bethany approached the door and she tensed up as she noticed his tone. Something was different than usual. Something was not right. And as she opened the door, just a gap at first, she realized that something terrible had happened.
Gareth was deathly pale as he stood there in front of her. "Have you seen Alara?", he asked and she raised an eyebrow. "I thought she was with Ryman", she stated. Her little spitfire of a sister wasn't bothered by the heat. Even now, close to noon, she was mostly found with their brother, riding, fighting, or generally doing all kinds of things a true lady wasn't supposed to do. In a way, Bethany envied her for this freedom, though she knew of the terrible price her little sister had to pay for it. A sting of guilt flashed through her chest for even just thinking such a thing. Alara was not one to be envied.
"I thought the same", Gareth replied, as he reached into his coat. "Then I found this" He pulled out a roll of parchment and handed it to her. Bethany narrowed her eyes, as she began to read. The light was dim in the hallway and Alara had never been the most careful writer, but this was unmistakably her handwriting. She gasped as she realized what this was.
"Ryman", she mumbled. "Quick!" Without waiting for Gareth's reaction, she pushed herself past him, rushing down the hallway as quick as her dress allowed. She cursed herself at having chosen the tightly cut yellow dress for today. It looked spectacular, yes, but nobody was supposed to see her today, at least nobody she wanted to impress. It slowed her down enough for Gareth to catch up with her easily.
"When have you found this?", she asked and Gareth shrugged. "Just now", he said. "I wanted to check up on her. Haven't seen her all day and..." He fell silent, as did Bethany, as her gaze fell onto the open door to Alara's room. Notably smaller than her own, granted by a man that had never hidden the fact that he was only tolerating and not accepting her. It was empty. And Bethany knew what this meant.
Almost in a state of panic, she rushed down the stairs. Yesterday had been bad, even worse than usual. Their father... her father had been drinking, which was never a good sign. He hadn't hit her, but some of the things he had uttered. Bethany felt tears forming in her eyes, as she had to remember her own father saying such hateful things to her little sister. In contrast, Alara had been calm, so terribly calm and now, Bethany knew the reason. Even before she had reached the lower end of the stairs, the tears began to run down her cheeks.
And that was where Mother saw them. Meghan threw a confused look at her children. "What's wrong?", she asked, as she turned to Gareth. "I thought I had heard you calling. What happened?" Bethany passed her mother, unable to look the woman in the eye right now, though Gareth did the duty that should have been hers. In soft words, he began to explain the situation. A panicked gasp came out of Meghan's throat and she darted down the hallway, after Bethany. The love of a mother... if only she would have shown more of it in the past.
The courtyard lay in the bright sun. Southern winds had brought even more heat, but Bethany was not bothered by it right now, even if she had to shield her eyes to spot the man she was looking for. Father was standing near the armoury, inspecting the sword of a new recruit, a green boy who stared at his lord with fear in his gaze. Further to the gate of Nightsong stood Ryman, silently caring for one of the horses.
"Ryman!", she yelled across the courtyard, not bothering to be silent. Father heard her of course, but she didn't care. He would learn about it soon enough. Rushing across the courtyard, she found her brother not turning around. He heard her, obviously, but he continued to stroke the horse's fur, almost as if he was ignoring her. "Ry!", she repeated.
By now, Jaycen had started to approach them, his pace fastened as he saw his wife and son running after his daughter. His only daughter, as he was always pointing out. She heard her mother letting out a gasp, half agony, half anger, as she threw herself at her husband. "What have you done?", she spat. "What have you done? Where is my daughter?"
Bethany felt naked fear as she looked over her shoulder, seeing Gareth keeping their mother from jumping at her own husband. By now, Meghan's beautiful face was twisted with grief and anger. It was as if Bethany was looking into a mirror and the effect was unsettling. Jaycen himself stared at his wife with confusion. "What... what are you talking about?", he stuttered. "Bethany, what's going on?" In his voice, there was concern, confusion and, as she noticed, a hint of fear.
"She's gone", Ryman answered behind her and just hearing it confirmed all of Bethany's fears. Tears began to stream down her face, now without her even trying to hold them back. Her little sister was gone. She clenched her fists and bit down onto her lower lip, as distant, faded memories flashed through her mind. Briala, the youngest child of Jaycen, the other sister she had lost. This was not the same. This was worse.
"What...", Jaycen started, but Ryman cut him off. "Alara is gone!", he barked, now with barely hidden anger in his voice. Meghan let out an agonized wailing, as she sank to the ground, Gareth with her, still holding her in a hug. And Bethany was able to see the slow realization on Jaycen's face. His one eye widened and he held his breath. "Oh...", he mumbled. "This foolish girl..."
Bethany narrowed her eyes and she was sure that Ryman behind her did even worse, but her father continued, as he himself glared at his eldest son. "How do you know?", he spat and Bethany realized that he had a point. She looked over her shoulder at her oldest brother. Ryman was a true warrior, a true lord of the Marches. Taller than his father, stronger, with his mother's good looks and gentle temper. But right now, right now he was more like his father, filled with anger and pain. "I let her go", he revealed quietly.
"What?", Bethany spat, her voice shrill with fear, though it was Jaycen who continued. He silenced her by placing a hand onto her shoulder and she wasn't sure if she should shake it off in disgust or fall into his arms, to cry into his chest. Her father only said a single word as he faced his son. "Why?", he asked.
Ryman glared at him and his voice shivered as he spoke. "She came to me, this night", he revealed and for a second, he had to pause. His voice was shivering and she saw tears in his eyes. "She told me what had happened. What you said to her", he mumbled. "Told me that there were two ways for her now. Either she throws herself down the tower, or she leaves through the gates. Either way, she said, she won't be a problem for you anymore"
Bethany gasped, as she started to sob. This wasn't dignified, almost childish even, but she did not care. Her little sister had said such a terrible thing and she had a right to break down now. But she remained standing, unlike her mother, who was sobbing into Gareth's shoulder. Gently, her brother covered Meghan's ears.
"She wasn't crying as she told me this", Ryman spoke. "I think by now you have beaten the tears out of her" He pointed a finger at Jaycen and seemed to consider taking a step towards him. The Lord of Nightsong had grown quiet at this revelation. He was staring into the distance and probably without even realizing it, he was pulling his daughter into a hug. She let it happen, no matter how much this man disgusted her right now.
"I love my little sister", her brother continued. "So I did what I had to do. I packed her bag, I brought her a sword, the finest in our armoury, all the coin I dared to give her and our best horse" He shook his head. "I did not look after her as she left. I couldn't... Gods have mercy, I couldn't"
"Oh, this child...", Jaycen mumbled. "She had always been unruly" Ryman clenched his fists. "This is all you have to say?", he asked and Jaycen shook his head. "Gather my best trackers”, he ordered. “Saddle my horse. We'll ride after her. She couldn't have gotten far. We'll have her by tomorrow"
Ryman shot his father a glare that caused Bethany to tremble. "What?", he growled. "Now you care? After forcing her to leave her home, now you care?" Nonchalantly, Jaycen gave him a nod. "Of course I care!", he replied with a dedication she had never seen in him before, not when it came to Alara. "It is dangerous out there and she could get hurt if I don't bring her back. She is my daughter!"
Bethany gasped, as she saw the sudden shift on Ryman's expression. In this moment, her sense of self-preservation kicked in and she pushed herself away from her father, just as Ryman threw a heavy punch into the man's face, without holding back.
Jaycen hadn't expected it and he took it without even trying to defend himself. The punch was heavy enough to cause him to fall to the ground, but Ryman did not stop there. For a moment, Bethany was terrified as she saw the murderous rage in his glare. Too stunned to react, she just stod there as her brother jumped on top of his father.
"You bastard!", Ryman spat. "You fucking bastard!" He began to throw punches right into Jaycen's unprotected face and now, Bethany screamed in horror. Next to her, Meghan began to wail helplessly, while Gareth held her. Her brother was just... staring at the scenery, anger and grim satisfaction on his face, as he watched his older brother beating their father without holding back.
"NO!", Meghan screamed, as Ryman threw another punch at his father and another one, a third, a fourth. From the other end of the courtyard, guards began to rush at the scenery. Bethany, though helpless in her grief, with tears flowing down her cheeks, knew she had to do something. "RY!", she yelled, as she rushed towards her brother.
He stopped as she hugged him from behind and just feeling him so close caused her to break down, as she pressed her face into his back, crying bitterly. "No...", she sobbed. "Don't do it..." She felt her brother trembling and heard her father speak something. It surprised her that he was still conscious, but then again, he had always been the toughest of them. "Leave us...", he mumbled, his voice sullen, defeated, broken, but still loud enough for the guards to hear him.
Bethany glanced at her father's face and seeing him all bruised, bloody and beaten, it caused her vision to cloud with tears. He was not looking smug, not like she imagined him to look when the child he never wanted was finally gone. He looked defeated.
"This is your fault!", Ryman spat. "Not Mother's, not Alara's. Yours alone! She was a child and she loved you. All she wanted was for you to be her father. All that happened, it came from you, because you refused to love her back" He shook his head, helplessly and only Bethany prevented him from attacking his father again. "You just called her your daughter... if you would have told her that to her face once, only once in the past sixteen years, this wouldn't have happened"
Jaycen's eye widened and he tried to say something, but Ryman cut him off. "And she is your daughter! She is my little sister and a Caron!", he growled. "She is beautiful, she is brilliant and strong and she became all of this without you, despite you. She loves you so much, even if you never deserved it!” He raised from the ground and Bethany let him, as she sank back into the dirt of the courtyard. Her dress was ruined, that much was for sure, but she did not care. She just barely held herself together.
Finally, Ryman grabbed his father by the collar, pulling him up a little bit and Jaycen gasped. “If anything happens to her out there...”, he growled. “If she gets hurt or… or...” He cut himself off, his face showing the helpless grief he felt. “If anything happens to her, then you're dead to me” With these words, he let go of his father, who sank back into the dirt without even trying to get up. He charged off, towards the Great Hall, leaving the rest of his family alone.
“Gods...”, Jaycen mumbled, his voice a bit of a slur because of how heavily Ryman had beaten him. His eye looked around until he found Bethany. “My daughter...”, he gasped. Behind him, Gareth softly pulled Meghan up and instead of spending time with her father, Bethany approached them.
Her mother was sobbing silently, her face hidden in Gareth's arms. “Alara...”, she mumbled. “No, no, gods, please… My little girl” Gareth stroke her hair, as he shook his head. “I'll bring her back to her rooms”, he spoke, towards his sister. “Bethy… you still have the letter?” Glumly, Bethany gave him a nod. “Read it to him then”, Gareth continued, his voice cold as he glared at his father. “Maybe then he realizes what he did”
Bethany gulped. “Reading it to him?”, she said, as she tried to block out what her sister had written. It had been enough to bring her to the brink of tears when she read it in silence, before this whole scene. Now… for the first time, Bethany Caron was not sure if she was strong enough to do this. Softly, Gareth put a hand onto her back. “We all have our duties, little bird”, he spoke, before he turned around, leading his grieving mother back to her chambers.
With a heavy heart and only barely holding together, Bethany turned back to her father. She had always loved him and unlike Alara, she even had positive memories of him, but he had never made it harder to love him than right now. Softly, she sat down next to him and as he saw her, he gave her a pained look.
“They will hate me”, he mumbled and she had no other answer but to nod. “I don't hate you, father”, she answered and he gave her a weak, joyless smile. “Little Bethy...”, he said, his voice barely audible, his face swollen. But she had his attention, she was sure of it. Silently, she raised the parchment.
“We found this in her room”, she told him and Jaycen let out a pained groan. “My daughter...”, he muttered. “Gods, what have I done? I… it was… every time I looked at her, I saw Qarlton” With what little strength he had left, he shook his head. “I… I didn't want to...”
Bethany glanced at the parchment, gasping as her gaze fell onto the text. Oh Alara… She felt tears and anger rising up inside her, though she calmed down both of it, as she began to read. She didn't want to hurt her father any further, but knew that this had to be done. With a heavy heart, Bethany did the hardest duty of her entire life. “Father”, she said, as she began to tell him the contents of this letter.
“Because that's what you are for me. I am sorry for hurting you by saying this, but this is how I feel. When I think of a father, I don't think of a faceless king in a distant castle, a man I have never seen. I think of you. I think of how you smiled at me when I was younger. How you played with me. We had good times. I have been your daughter once. I still am. Always will be, even if you don't feel like this anymore”
Bethany paused, as tears shot into her eyes. Quickly, she wiped them away, looking at the baffled look on Jaycen's face. “Daughter...”, he mumbled and she continued.
“I don't know what changed. Or, I think I have an idea, but this is not the point. The point is that I am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. Or mother. I knew that I am hurting you somehow, but I never knew what it was until now. Then I realized, I am hurting you by being near you. By trying to be your daughter. I don't want to hurt you and this is why I have to leave”
This time, Bethany closed her eyes for a second. Her little sister… she noticed how much these words were hurting her father and for a moment, she considered just stopping here. She didn't. She couldn't. The dutiful daughter to the bitter end. “Mother”, she continued to read.
“You have given me so much. I love you and I am sorry for leaving you. But I have hurt you as well. The way Father looks at you when I am nearby… It is one of the reasons why I have to leave. I will always be your daughter and I hope you can forgive me”
She shivered once more as she spotted the next parts of the letter. She hadn't read any further back when Gareth presented her the letter. “Ryman”, she said with a weak voice.
“You never stopped to make me smile, even in the darkest of times. You never stopped to tell me how strong I am, how smart, how good. The truth is, I am nothing. I am scared and weak when you are not around. I am scared right now. I don't know if I can be strong without you, but I have to find out”
Bethany glared at her father, who was staring at her with a single wide eyes. “No...”, he gasped, but she continued. “Gareth”, she spoke and by now, her anger helped her to get over the next lines without breaking down.
“You have always been the first to defend me. You shouldn't have to, but you did. You are so much better than me, so strong. Don't be afraid to be the man you were always meant to be”
Now, Bethany's eyes widened as she spotted the next lines. She clenched her fists around the parchment and only the helpless look in her father's eyes got her to continue. He should know. He had to know what he did. “Bethany”, she said and her voice was shaking.
“Not so much of a little bird next to me, but come to think of it, I'm hardly a bird at all. As I write this, I think of the song you once taught me. The lost little girl that wanders off into the woods, where the wolves roam. I am the lost little girl right now, without you, my sister. Leaving you, it hurts the most. The lost little girl came back in your song. But this is not a song and I don't know what happens. I only know that I cannot stay”
She shot a glare at her father to avoid having to cry. “Your work”, she spat. “Are you proud of yourself?” Weakly, Jaycen only shook his head. “My daughter...”, he mumbled. “Oh, Alara, forgive me” He looked at her, with fear in his eye. “Is there more?”, he asked.
“Father”, Bethany continued without mercy.
“I don't know if we ever meet again. I would like to, some day in the future, when I am strong. I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but I hope. Hope is what carries me away from you and maybe hope is what brings me back. Maybe next time I will be worthy of being your daughter. With love...”
Bethany shivered. “Alara...”, she gasped. Having done her duty, she put her head into her hands, curling up next to her father, as her vision clouded with tears.
Ah, the Caron's are such a dysfunctional family, which is always so fitting in Westeros, and makes for such great stories like this. And that letter, man, that was heart breaking. Alara has such a great backstory, I have to say. Thanks for writing this, it was great!
Also, it reminded me that I should get to write an H&L for the Brownhill's at some point... well, perhaps I'll let Stigz introduce more of them first
I am so glad you enjoyed it! The Caron's and their messed up dynamics have always been something I enjoyed writing, in their submission and in Alara's earlier H&L. It is also one of my favourite aspects of them in the story proper, even if this one probably showed them at their lowest. And the letter, ah, this was the idea that created this entire H&L, sort of the point I constructed the entire part around. It's nice to hear that I got the reacted I have hoped for with it
And a Brownhill H&L would be much appreciated! We don't know all that much about their family dynamics so far, considering that Jaremy's story is just at its early stages, but I would really like to learn more about them
Nicely written and quite emotional.
[Swear fealty to Noriphos]
Thank you, always a pleasure. I am very happy that you enjoyed it! Also, welcome, I'm glad you're back
This is a truly fantastic H&L, if not surpassing the greatness of your last contribution to the Invasion with Alara
Such a beautiful and chaotic scene, the Caron's are truly one of the most broken families in this story, and it makes for such an interesting interaction when they're all together. The letter, well it appears I was wrong with trying to shut you down with this idea, because it truly made the scene more than anything else could. So I can only applaud your amazing talent here and thank you for doing it 
Hey guys, my apologies for my absence over the week. Time is starting to grow stressful as exams approach in a month, so my time for writing is strictly limited to whatever I have left on the weekend. I've scrounged together a Davios part, which introduces some interesting new characters that I'll let you read for yourselves
I'd also like to welcome @Mathea back to the forums, it's lovely to see you active again! 
Onto the part, the last we saw Davios he had picked up that there was something Vysela was not telling him within her story about the Cobra and her danger. This severely pissed off Hughie, who stormed out of the room. Vysela opened up by telling Davios about the militia group that the Cobra belonged to: The Serpent's Venom, and that they were after her. They may have also opened up a little more after that. Davios bid the two farewell the next day, and was shortly after met by Dickon Finch, a warlord that would be joining Davios on the invasion of the North. The two talked for a moment before the horns of House Grafton sounded, their ships entering the bay. You chose to continue talking with Dickon Finch, and that's where this part picks up from.
Davios
Dickon Finch’s quarters were based not too far by the harbour, within the military district of the Pearled City. It had a large interior, which showed a considerable amount of wealth and power. All the things that Davios never had, yet he was now suddenly becoming one of the most important men in Andalos. How things changed. He thought grimly as he sat at end of Dickon’s desk, staring at the bandaged stump at the end of his left wrist.
Dickon took his seat, placing his longsword on the table between them. The weapon was finely forged, with a strong iron blade and sturdy crossbar, the handle was wrapped with leather, and the pommel held a garnet stone. Yet there was no doubt that this was more a tool than a trinket, observing the wear marks on the blade. Davios raised his gaze to his counterpart, watching his inquisitive hazel eyes.
“What do you want to know?” Davios asked bluntly, resting his hand and stump on the table, diverting Dickon’s attention only momentarily before a smirk thinned on his lips. “That depends, how much can you tell a man you don’t know?” Davios sighed, he was barely in the mood for playing games. Regardless, he knew he had to find more out about the man who he’d be fighting beside.
“Very well, Finch. Tell me about yourself.” Davios urged with a nonchalant tone, and a solemn expression coated Dickon’s face. “I drafted into the military as a teen, rose into commander in my early twenties, and joined Ser Gerold Grafton in the invasion of the Fingers.” Dickon informed him, and Davios raised an eyebrow. “Not eager to meet with your old friends then?” Davios hinted back to the Grafton vessels sailing into the harbour, and Dickon firmly shook his head.
“I fought beside Gerold for a lot of the war. I was by his side when we stormed Runestone with the Shett’s of Gulltown. Back then, I thought we were fighting with honour, until Gerold put a sword through the Shett King’s back.” Dickon muttered in spite, crossing his arms. “How he was praised to become one of the first Andal kings in Westeros, few cared for how he attained that title.” Davios eyed the man curiously, tapping his fingers on the table.
“What do you want me to say?” Davios asked with a subtle touch of impatience, causing Dickon to shake his head. “I don’t care for what you say, Davios Tallman. I care for how you act, and how my men prosper from those actions. Gerold pulled a rash move back then, and that betrayal resulted in a conflict which has brought him back to Andalos. Will you honour our alliance?” Dickon asked, and Davios nodded firmly.
“I will.” He assured him, but Dickon seemed unconvinced. “What about the First Men we will have to align ourselves with? Will you honour and respect them too?” Dickon pressed at him, causing Davios to raise an eyebrow. How does he know? He wondered, but emotion took control of his tongue.
“They’re savages.” Davios muttered, and Dickon nodded. “Perhaps, but they may be the very thing that gives us the North. That won’t happen if you take a page out of Gerold’s books however, and decide to slaughter them.” Dickon stated with some experience, but Davios’ anger had gotten the better of him.
“They slaughtered my father!” Davios snapped, slamming his fist on the desk. Dickon now raised an eyebrow, rising from his chair. “Just as fire burned my family alive. Though I cannot hate the fire for that? Fire is an element of survival.” Dickon claimed, and Davios raised his eyebrows. “Your family burned alive?” He asked, somewhat stunned by the reveal. Dickon sighed, lowering his gaze.
“It’s not important.” He murmured, before lifting his gaze after a moment. “The point is, you cannot blame the race of people for the death of Simon. You can blame only one man for that.” He stated, but his father’s name triggered in his mind. “How do you know his name?” Davios asked, suspicion weighing heavy in the atmosphere. Dickon frowned, picking up his sword and observed the garnet pommel.
“After Gerold’s rise in power, I was demoted for my hesitation and placed among the infantrymen. That’s when I met Simon, and the two of us clicked instantly. We fought against the First Men for years until our regiment was to go against Barrock Redfort, who had been the only force to continually throw us back over and over. On that day, Lord Corwyn Corbray required a scribe, the only one of us who could write was your father. Yet being the man he was, he had me go under his name. That regiment never returned from the battlefield.” Dickon informed him, lowering his weapon. Davios felt his heart sink into his chest, Dickon placed his hand on his shoulder.
“Your father was a good man, Davios. I’m here because of him, and I’ve learnt a lot during my years. I want to help you, not only with my army, but as an ally and friend.” Dickon stated, and Davios gave him a nod in appreciation. Then the door thudded. “Enter!” Dickon shouted, and one of the guards entered with a young man.
“Apologies for the interruption, my Lord.” The guard said, and Dickon nodded. “Leave us.” He ordered, and the guard retreated out of the room. Davios eyed the boy that stood before them, he was tall, with a slim but muscular build. His hair was short and scruffy, a coal black, and his eyes brown. “Lord Finch.” He greeted with a grin, and Dickon embraced the young man with open arms.
“It’s good to see you, Bron. What brings you here?” He asked, pulling away from the young man. “Father.” He stated, turning his gaze to Davios. There was a look on his eyes like he had suddenly remembered something of importance. “Lord Tallman, it’s an honour.” He stated, taking a bow. Davios pulled himself from his seat, nodding to him.
“My father wishes for an audience with you.” Bron informed him, and Davios raised an eyebrow. “Your father?” He asked, and Dickon let out a dry chuckle. “Bron here is the youngest son of King Noriphos.” Dickon announced with little amusement, and Bron rolled his eyes. It was clear his royalty was not of much importance to him, still Davios’ eyes widened.
“Sorry, I…” Davios started, but Bron shook his head, an amused grin on his lips. “Don’t worry, I don’t want you to lick the shit off my boots. Father did say it was urgent though.” Bron urged, causing Davios to sigh. “Would you excuse me?” Davios asked, turning to Dickon, who nodded. “Of course, it was a pleasure. Seven blessings.” He said warmly, and Davios reciprocated the gesture, before following Bron out of Dickon’s quarters.
-
The thick oak doors swung open as Prince Bron and Davios approached the throne room, the hall was bright, held high with thick white columns. Davios’ gaze spotted Noriphos sitting upon his elevated throne, with two men standing before him. One was fully donned in steel, with a sheathed longsword and a great helm tucked under his arm, his black tabard displayed a white weasel beneath a seven-pointed star.
The other was a man that Davios took more notice of. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a sinewy build. Their gaze shifted to Davios and Bron as they approached, giving Davios a glimpse at the men. The weasel soldier was a sore sight, with a gruesome thick scar running down his face from upper brow to lower chin. His head was cleanly shaved, and his beard black, his eyes were a dark brown.
The sinewy man possessed a long clean shaven face, with black hair and green eyes. He wore an iron ring around his neck, and his armour was clearly Lorathi crafted. Davios spotted a hint of unease in Bron’s eyes, yet he remained tall postured and calm. North of the Pearled Kingdom was King Qarlon’s dominion, including the isles of Lorath.
“Lord Davios.” Noriphos greeted, rising from his throne. Davios knelt down, followed by Bron, and lowered his head. “Your grace.” He gestured, and arose when signalled. His eyes met the gaze of the Lorathi Andal, there was a broken soul staring back at him, one with a fiery hatred. Davios scowled at the man.
“These are Lord Anderon Varner and Lord Lorias Roxton.” Noriphos introduced, descending down the steps of his throne. Anderon sighed, running an iron gloved hand over his smooth head with some awkward tension. “An honour, Lord Tallman.” He muttered, and Davios nodded in return. Noriphos frowned.
“Lords Varner and Roxton, you are dismissed.” Noriphos notified them, and Anderon nodded with some relief, egressing as quickly as his armour could allow him. Lorias hesitated a moment, his gaze still locked onto Davios, before following after Anderon. Noriphos sighed, clasping his hands together. “Lorias and Anderon will be taking a selection of forces to accompany Morgan Martell to Dorne.” Noriphos stated informatively, and Davios raised an eyebrow.
“Dorne? Sire, we surely need those men for the second attempt-” Davios started, but Noriphos cut him off with a wave of his hand. “First, we need to rebuild, and you need to meet someone.” Noriphos informed him, a thin smile touching his lips. Davios turned his gaze to Bron, who winked at him coyly. “Who?” Davios asked, and on cue, a woman revealed herself from the shadows.
She was beautiful, standing at around six feet, she maintained a slender build which was evident under her tight purple gown which fell to the floor. Davios’ eyes widened, startled by the beauty before him. Her blonde hair was platted into a tail which hung over her shoulder, finishing at her abdomen. She wore light blue pearl earrings, and around her neck hung a golden seven-pointed star necklace.
“Allow me to introduce my daughter, Princess Celia.” Noriphos announced with some pride, but Davios was stunned, it was like he was looking at an angel sent from the Seven heavens. It took him a moment to respond, and even then his voice was seemingly weaker than ever. “It’s an honour, my Lady.” He mumbled awkwardly, which was reciprocated with an awkward smile to the floor. Noriphos chuckled.
“I’ll let you two chat a moment. Bron.” He called, beckoning for his son to join him as they entered another room off to the side of the throne room. Davios gulped, watching as Celia’s green eyes lifted their gaze to Davios’ own light green eyes. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” She stated, her voice confident and strong. Davios cleared his throat, rubbing his wrist awkwardly.
“You have?” He stumbled, and a sympathetic laugh escaped her lips, causing Davios to smile gently. “Yes.” She admitted with a warm tone, taking a step towards him. “I heard you saved a lot of lives at the Battle of the Weeping Water.” She added, and Davios shrugged nervously. “I was just doing my job.” He mumbled, and she raised an eyebrow.
“Were you? Interesting, I thought you were an infantryman.” She pointed out, somewhat bluntly. Now Davios raised an eyebrow with confusion. “My Lady?” He asked, and she rolled her eyes. “Seemingly a daft one at that.” She sighed, turning away. Davios squinted in a wild confusion, which turned to a touch of annoyance.
“I did what I thought was right.” Davios stated in his defence, and a pitilessly short laugh escaped Celia. “I suppose that’s why we don’t train soldiers to think.” She muttered, shaking her head. “To be a warlord, you have to make tough decisions. Argos understood that when he raised an army for my father, only to be thwarted by your stunt.” She scolded. Davios could be an anger burning up within him.
“We were being slaughtered!” He yelled, clenching his fist. You know nothing, he wanted to shout with it, but he held his tongue. She rolled her eyes. “Sacrifices are made in war, and I don’t think you’re capable of making them.” She muttered, but Davios shook his head with frustration. “You don’t know me.” He muttered in return, causing her to scoff.
“That’s why I’m sending you both to the Fingers.” Noriphos announced, returning back into the throne room with perfect timing. Celia raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Father you can’t be serious. There are more important matters!” She tried to persuade him, and as much as it frustrated him, Davios nodded. “I agree with her, we can’t waste any more time.” Davios stated, but Noriphos shrugged.
“Let me deal with the stress of the invasion. I want you both work on finding what else you can agree on, and since I know how distracted you both are here, I believe a new scenery may be helpful.” Noriphos stated warmly, causing Celia roll her eyes in “You’re pathetic.” She muttered, storming off. Davios frowned, crossing his arms.
“She’ll come around.” Noriphos assured him after a moment of silence. “This trip will be good for you both.” He added with a thin smile, but Davios just shook his head. “I urge you to reconsider.” Davios begged, causing Noriphos to retaliate in anger. “Davios Tallman, I chose you for this job, and I chose you to be the husband to my daughter. You agreed to this further on, if my daughter does not appease your wishes then I will find another to replace you.” Noriphos warned, causing Davios to raise an eyebrow before nodding submissively.
“Yes, your grace.” He conceded, and Noriphos nodded. “The ship will leave tomorrow at sunrise. As you’ve clearly pointed out, this is still work to be done.” Noriphos hinted, but Davios remained dormant with his tongue. “If you don’t wish to speak with my daughter, go make yourself useful in the courts. I’m sure Bron will be eager to test your skills.” Noriphos muttered, returning to his throne. Davios sighed, turning his gaze to the throne doors.
[Seek out Celia] [Spar with Bron]
Well I'll close this vote. Morgan will swear fealty to Noriphos. This is a good choice, and it prevents Morgan from screwing around in Andalos for any longer than he needs to
The next part is also out!
Thank you, thank you
I surely enjoyed writing this part, especially with how long it was planned already. I am glad it not only saw its completion at last, but that it is also so well received. And you surely deserve credit as well. If it wouldn't be for your writing, I surely wouldn't be so inspired to write. There is a reason why I am so attached to these characters and it is the way you write them 
When it comes to the letter, I think it is at least the most simple yet powerful way to show Alara's feelings in this part. It allowed me to show it while still focussing onto the Caron family interaction as a whole.
[Seek out Celia]
First Vysela, now Celia, it seems Davios really gets around lately
Good for him though! That said, Celia seems to be a difficult person to deal with. Actually, even better. I for one like those who are difficult to deal with. We'll see what comes out of this then. Surely it will be interesting. I must say, when Lorrhen said he wants Kira to be the handmaiden of the royal children, I expected them to be actual children, not people in her age. Seems I misjudged this situation.
[Seek out Celia]
[Seek out Celia] Well, since they are obviously going to have to spend a lot of time together, possibly even marry, I think it would be a good idea to at least try to get along with her. Anyway, nice part, I'm looking forward to Davios' adventures in the Fingers
How could you do this to me! Forcing me to choose between two of my characters. Stigz, you are so cruel... (Sarcasm)
Anyways, this is a hard choice because he is going to have a lot of time to get to know Celia, in the Fingers. We don't know when he will have a chance to spar with Bron again. However, I have a feeling that Davios might see a lot of Bron in the future, and he may have a chance to spar with him then. However, I do think it may be a good idea to try to form a better relationship with Celia before they go on their trip to the Fingers. It will make it easier for their relationship to grow and improve when they are actually on their trip. It is always a good idea to get along with the woman you are going to spend your life with. So, with that, I say........... [Seek out Celia]
[Seek out Celia]
Well everyone came to these choices quickly, so I can happily shutdown the vote. Davios will seek out Celia. I gotta say, I'm not too creative with my wording in choices, I think the last few have all involved 'seek'
Anyway, I have the new part ready, and it's a little longer than average, but there was a lot to be shown. It's a Kira part, and here's a recap:
Last time we saw Kira, she had chosen to seek help from a rich merchant she ran into in an alleyway when escaping the Father's Sons criminals. His men defended her, killing the followers, and Kira fell unconscious shortly after. She awoke a few days later in a rich room with a bandaged leg and hospital clothing. When trying to get up, she found her leg to be in a lot of pain, and crippling her. Her tumble fetched the attention of the merchant who had saved her, who introduced himself as Lorrhen. He revealed that his reasons for helping her were for more than just her own wellbeing. In fact, he wished for her to spy on the king. When faced with this option, you chose to agree to his proposition, and this part resumes at this choice.
Kira
With one last hopeful glance, Kira forcefully shifted her eyes away from the road and to Lorrhen. Fat jowls left a crease on his cheeks, yet his eyes spoke his thoughts, ambitious yet kind. Kira frowned, her hand awkwardly clutching her arm. “Alright, I’ll do it.” She decided firmly, and a warm smile touched the large man’s lips. His eyes gleamed with an eccentric joy which looked to be near the edge of bursting. Are all rich Andal’s like this? She wondered mockingly, thinking back to her friend Florentio.
“Fantastic!” He beamed with a wide grin, naturally opening his arms to take her into embracement. Kira stood awkwardly, forcing a small thin smile on her unsure lips. Was spying on one of the most powerful families of Andalos the wisest choice? Though then again, was returning to danger a better one? It was hard for her not to become trapped in these thoughts as the big lump of fat and sweat clumped around her. When he had finished, a large smile still remained on his lips.
“So, how about it?” He asked with excitement, and Kira raised an eyebrow to him. He clarified. “Shall we head for the Gem Palace?” He proposed, and Kira’s eyes widened with the suggestion. “Now?” She asked with uncertainty, and Lorrhen nodded affirmatively. Kira bit her lip, then looking down to her sprained leg.
“I’m not sure.” She mumbled faintly, her crippled leg bothered her. It made her feel weak. Yet Lorrhen’s reaction was ignoring of that. “Ah, don’t worry about that my dear, I have just the thing for you.” He exclaimed, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a vial of transparent white liquid, then offering it to her.
“What is it?” Kira asked hesitantly, taking the small glass tube in her hands. Lorrhen clasped his hands close to his belly. “A weak concoction of poppy milk.” He informed her, his smile died down to something a little more solemn. “I had the doses minimised to an operatable rate. That leg won’t recover anytime soon, and as you’ve got work to do, I figured you’d need something for the pain.” He added thoughtfully, flashing a warm smile to her. Kira sighed, studying the white liquid cautiously.
“You’ve thought it all out, haven’t you?” She muttered, feeling a little vulnerable to this man’s tactical intelligence. Lorrhen shrugged, a proud look on his eyes. “It never hurts to be a step ahead.” He boasted, but Kira just rolled her eyes, unscrewing the vial and bottoming the contents down her throat. A tingling feeling rushed down throat, leaving a trail of numbness. She frowned, passing Lorrhen the empty vial.
“Good.” He sang joyously, accepting the vial in his smooth chubby hands. Kira sighed, turning her eyes back out the window. “I shall have my servants get you dressed into something more presentable.” He informed her decisively, and Kira nodded with an expressionless look. “For now, try to rest. I’ll meet you in the yard within the hour.” He stated, and left her without awaiting her response. When the doors thudded shut, a sigh of relief escaped her breath.
She leaned herself against the windowsill, staring hopelessly out at the quiet streets. Few nobles walking at this time, which only added onto the confining feeling that overwhelmed her. She almost felt a prisoner, staring out at the world of wealth and luxury. A prisoner to coin. She thought ironically, thinking on how hard she had worked to live, now that was all seemingly going to be handed to her on a silver platter. It almost sickened her.
Her reflection glared back at her with a brooding sadness in her bluey lilac eyes, which seemed barely different to the stern serious girl that usually was there. Her pale light blonde hair fell in a messy clump to her shoulders, which brought her some redeeming thoughts, back to her time on the farm with Darren. How he had always teased her about her hair after a day’s work. Things were hard then, yet in another way easier, he was there for her. She would listen to him.
“What am I doing, Darren?” She mumbled grievously, sinking to the floor, yet no matter how hard she tried, she could not shed a tear. Her eyes forbid her, which only left a drowning atmosphere around her. “What am I doing?” She repeated, wishing that his voice would somehow reach her, across the narrow waters and fertile lands of Westeros. The true land of wealth. She thought hopefully, yet it was quickly overweighed with loss. I’ll never see it, she conceded, staring at the useless leg. Never.
-
The courtyard of Lorrhen’s estate was lavish with enriching gardens and stone fountains. Servants attended to the lands while Lorrhen awaited her humbly with four burly men gowned in white. They stood by a litter. “Lady Kira, you look beautiful.” Lorrhen complemented her as she approached, and he wasn’t wrong.
His servants had worked miracles on her when she arrived, turning the gloomy girl into a face of royalty. Her hair had been dry washed and braided back, and her face powdered to her skin tone. She wore a loose violet silken dress, and around her waist she wore a golden embroidered sash. Kira flashed the man her best smile, which came off as pretty pathetic according to his reaction. “We may have to work on that.” He muttered, pulling aside the curtain to the litter and beckoning her to enter.
She took a seat, and was shortly joined by the plump merchant. Before long, she discovered what the burly handsome servants were for. Hoisted onto their shoulders, the litter set out the steel gates, and up the road towards the Gem Palace. Kira stared out the veiled curtains, somewhat in awe by the position she found herself in. Lorrhen held a stern expression on his podgy face.
“Kira.” He yapped, snapping her from her trance. A warm smile touched his lips as he reclined into his seat, Kira turned her gaze to him. “Princess Celia has two handmaidens already entrusted to her currently.” Lorrhen informed her, a solemn look on his light blue eyes. “Ruby and Jade.” He added bitterly, and Kira raised an eyebrow.
“Why does she require a third?” She asked, and a confident smirk widened on his fat lips. “She requires a second.” He corrected, and Kira eyed him suspiciously, her eyes urging him to continue. “Young Ruby was a bitter fruit of the platter, never listening to the authority. That eventually got her in some trouble, and now her head is awaiting the blocks.” Lorrhen stated nonchalantly, but Kira’s eyes widened.
“Why?” She asked with a bit of worry, but Lorrhen gave her a reassuring smile. “She and Prince Bron were caught together. She, of course, was punished. I’m sure you will not make the same mistake.” Lorrhen stated, and Kira shook her head in assurance. “Good.” He chirped, smiling at the ceiling as he shut his eyes, but Kira was left with a frown.
“What’s this ‘Celia’ like?” She asked, a touch of concern on her tone. Lorrhen released a hearty chuckle, wobbling the litter and evoking a grunt from the servants. “Let’s just say she’s her father’s daughter.” He grinned, but Kira’s frowned remained, it was what she was worried about. She had not heard the greatest of things about Noriphos, and her lifestyle in Southpoint only supported those claims.
“Great.” She sighed, resting her cheek against her palm. Lorrhen opened an eye, raising an eyebrow. “You’re worried?” He asked, and Kira nodded. Lorrhen sat himself upright, taking her hand in his own. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Kira. I didn’t save you from one mess just to put you into another.” He tried to assure her, but she felt unconvinced. “Thanks.” She mumbled, shrugging him off. He sighed, resting an arm against the litter window.
“You don’t trust me.” He sighed in disappointment, and Kira rolled her eyes. “Forgive me, Lord, but I’ve only had the pleasure for the better part of two hours.” She asserted harshly, returning her cheek to her palm. Lorrhen nodded, a proud smile building on his lips. “Smart girl.” He complimented her, gaining Kira’s gaze. “Yet you’d be smarter to learn the game.” He stated coldly, his expression coming stern. “And smiling a little more.” He prompted, and Kira failed to hold back the urge of a smile. The rest of their trip went on in silence.
-
The courtyard of the Gem Palace was enriching to gaze upon, and Kira thought Lorrhen’s mansion was impressive. Her eyes gleamed over the marble white castle, and the luscious greens, yellows and reds of the autumn season. A servant parted the curtains, and Lorrhen exited with great haste, with Kira closely behind.
It felt good to be back on her legs again, and to her surprise she felt no pain in her injured leg. It worked. She thought admirably, a joyful smile touching her lips. She turned her gaze to Lorrhen to show her appreciation, but she only found him at the other end of the court, talking with a woman of slim build. Kira hurried over awkwardly.
“Kind of you to join us, Lady Kira.” Lorrhen mocked as she joined him, causing her to roll her eyes. “Allow me to introduce you to a close friend of mine, Lady Elayna Maeson. She’s the eldest daughter of King Noriphos, and husband to Lord Ruban Maeson.” Lorrhen introduced, and Kira’s eyes widened with startle as she realised she was standing before royalty. She quickly attempted a curtsie, executing the manoeuvre poorly. Lorrhen gave a pitiful laugh.
“Forgive her form, my Lady. The Valyrian’s culture differs somewhat to ours.” He stated, and Kira raised an eyebrow, but kept her mouth shut. Elayna nodded, clasping her hands together. “I’m sure.” She mumbled, her voice trailing off. Kira eyed her features, she couldn’t have been much older than Kira, definitely around her mid-twenties. “Well I’m sure my sister will be delighted with a Valyrian beauty.” Elayna stated nonchalantly, and Lorrhen bowed modestly. “I presume you want an audience with my father?” She added, and Lorrhen nodded.
“That would be appreciated, my Lady.” He thanked, and she nodded solemnly. “Very well, I’ll have it arranged. For the meanwhile, I’ll escort this one to Celia.” She decided, and Lorrhen nodded. “Would you allow me to say my farewells? It has been a long journey.” Lorrhen stated calmly, and Elayna nodded. “I’ll be inside.” She informed them, before ascending the steps and disappearing through the main doors. Lorrhen let out a heavy sigh.
“Mind that one.” Lorrhen warned her, cautiously looking around him. Kira raised an eyebrow curiously. “Lady Elayna?” She asked, and Lorrhen nodded. “She has eyes and ears everywhere around this place. If she catches wind of anything suspicious about you, it’ll be straight to the blocks with you.” He stated, and Kira gulped, before nodding. “I’ll try to avoid her.” She suggested, but Lorrhen shook his head.
“Just…” He sighed, shaking his head with some tension. “Learn the game, and play it well. I’ll have some of my people come to check on you, and deliver you more medicine, but for the meantime.” He freed three vials of poppy milk from his coat pocket, then placing them in her side pockets. “Stay safe, Kira.” He pleaded, and Kira nodded with a thin smile, before she was pulled into another embrace, then pushed up the steps.
-
The marble halls were insanely detailed with delicate golden embroidery and fine gems, as well as gilding along the top and bottom of the walls. Glass panes were a clear pale milk transparent, similar to the poppy medicine she had received, and they stretched across the hallway, staring out to the west. There, Kira could see the lapping waters of the Narrow Sea, and the Westside district, where she had once spent hour after hour earning little sums of coin.
She pulled her gaze away from the view, turning her glance onto Lady Elayna. This sun setting light portrayed her beauty in a new manner. Her braided hair fell to her mid back, and while black, the sun set portrayed a red glow on her dark hair and tanned skin. Her glance turned towards Kira’s as she noticed her staring, her eyes green like emerald gems. She wore earrings and a necklace with the matching gemstone.
“I take it this is your first time to Andalos?” She asked, a calm and pleasant tone in her voice. Kira found herself at a loss for words, what has Lorrhen told them? She wondered as she nodded her head awkwardly. “I see, well you must feel very fortunate to be out of those wicked lands. I’ve heard grand but chaotic things from the Freehold, tell me, what is it truly like?” The question pulled Kira off balance, sending her to the floor. From Elayna escaped a long-winded gasp, as she rushed down to her aid.
“Apologies my Lady, I…” Kira stumbled for words, and as her eyes met Elayna’s, she saw something which contradicted the sympathetic woman gasping only a moment ago. “I can see you have a lot to learn.” She noticed, her eyes studying and unreadable. Kira gulped, but Elayna’s eyes seemed to brighten somewhat. “I’d love to teach you.” She smiled, helping her up. “Now come, my sister is an impatient little bitch, but as much as I love to keep her waiting I’m sure she’ll be eager to see you. It’s just around the hall.” She stated, guiding Kira as they walked.
They paced another few metres before turning a sharp corner and reaching the doors of three rooms. Elayna left Kira’s side and bashed her fist on the left door three times, and for a moment, it seemed as if no one was inside. Elayna prepared to knock on the door again, but the door finally swung open, and in the gap was a small woman in a fine dress, her eyes studying and seemingly upset. Kira nodded to her.
“My Lady, I am-” She started, but Elayna quickly cut her off. “Celia’s newly appointed handmaiden, is she in there, Jade?” Elayna asked with a touch of impatience on her tone, and Kira’s eyes widened as she recognised the name. Jade nodded, yet there was a clear look of distress in her eyes. “My Lady is feeling unwell.” She pleaded hopelessly, but Elayna simply rolled her eyes. “Allow me to introduce her a remedy then.” Elayna stated bluntly, linking her arm with Kira and dragging her past Jade.
Celia’s quarters were lavish in detail, and the scent of roses was thick in the air. Kira’s eyes scanned the room, and before long they fell upon the clumped mess of a princess weeping into her bed. Elayna sighed, parting from Kira. “Sister, what is wrong?” She asked, her tone sympathetic. She joined the weeping girl, pulling her into her arms.
“Father wishes to marry me to a dullard!” She seethed, clenching tightly onto Elayna’s arms, yet the woman seemed to barely acknowledge it. Kira took note. “Dear sister.” Elayna started, a frown heavy on her face. “When I married Ruban, it was not out of the love of my heart, or the respect I had for the man, but for the goodwill of the kingdom. You are, if not more so, doing everything capable for our family’s benefit, and while you may not love this man yet, you will come to in time.” Elayna assured her, but the princess seemed unconvinced. Worse, she seemed unable to convince. Kira stood awkwardly as she watched, and Elayna suddenly remembered her presence.
“Sister, I’d like you to meet your new handmaiden.” She whispered, stroking Celia’s golden blonde hair. The teary girl raised her eyes towards Kira, flashing her a weak smile before returning into Elayna’s shoulder. Elayna flashed Kira a sympathetic smile, before helping Celia up from her misery. “That won’t do, Shortstar.” She teased. “This woman has travelled far and wide to serve you of all people.” Celia raised her eyes again, taking a better look at Kira.
“You’re Valyrian?” She asked, her tone filled with awe, yet still choking on tears. Kira felt left with little option but to nod. “What’s your name?” Kira turned her gaze to Elayna, who nodded warmly. “Kira Tyrner.” She finally replied, before suddenly remembering something. “My Lady.” She added clumsily, which evoked a small smile from Celia. The princess turned her eyes to her sister, flashing her a warm smile.
“Thank you.” She whispered, hugging her again, but Elayna shook her head. “It’s the Plump Merchant you ought to thank.” She stated in boredom, running her hands through Celia’s hair. “I heard he searched for years to find the perfect gift for you.” She mumbled, and Kira fought hard to hold a calm expression. Gift? She thought in disgust. Celia nodded, pulling herself free and wiping the remaining tears away. “She’s perfect.” She stated joyously, and Elayna nodded.
“Well if you will excuse me sister, I believe I promised Lorrhen an audience with our father.” She stated, heading for the door. Celia nodded, and without another word the older sister was gone, with Jade shutting the door behind her. Celia let out a sigh as soon as she was gone. “Pour me a drink, Kira.” She ordered, smoothing out her crumpled bed sheets. Kira remained stunned in place for a moment, searching frantically around the room. Jade joined her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Over there.” She whispered, her eyes looking to a desk with a silver flagon. Kira nodded, walking over.
She grabbed a goblet, and then upturned the flagon until the red wine poured freely into the cup. When nearly filled, Kira placed the flagon down and took the cup, delivering it to Celia. The princess looked down at the liquid with a frown, and then down at Kira. “Thank you.” She muttered, taking a sip. Kira waited in a thick anticipation as Celia savoured the taste. “What do you make of this?” She then asked, passing a scroll to her.
Kira accepted it curiously, unrolling the paper and unleashing her eyes on the contents. It read the following:
King Noriphos of the Seven,
It will be our pleasure to host your daughter and her betrothed at Old Anchor for their celebrations party. Ser Artys Arryn and King Ferron of the Hills will be honoured to attend the service. We once again thank you for your consideration.
Regards,
Lord Edmond Melcolm.
Kira lifted her eyes from the letter, passing it back to Celia. “It would seem you have a place in Westeros to attend.” Kira stated, causing Celia to show a thin smile. “So you can read. Good.” She admired, putting the scroll to the candle flame. “I think we’ll get along well, Kira of Valyria.” She said nonchalantly as she watched the paper burn. “I am eager to hear more stories of your time in the Freehold.” She added, and Kira felt a lump build up in her throat. The tension released however when there was a knock at the door.
“My Lady?” Jade asked, and Celia nodded. “Get it.” She ordered, and Jade obediently carried out the task. Hushed voices conversed between the jarred opening, until Jade introduced the visitor. “His Lord, Davios Tallman.” She announced, and Celia let out a frustrated moan.
“Let him in.” She muttered, and Jade did. Kira watched with an awe filled anticipation as the betrothed entered Celia’s quarters. His height honoured his family name, standing taller than any man Kira had ever seen before, and certainly taller than Celia. He had rough but handsome features, with shoulder length blonde hair and a thick stubble, yet what caught Kira’s eye was the bandaged stump at the end of his left arm.
“May I help you, Lord Davios?” Celia asked with an impatient tone, and Kira could see the man looked as uncomfortable as she felt. He let out a small sigh, crossing his arms. “Can we talk?” He asked awkwardly, then eyed Jade and Kira. “In private?” He added, and Celia frowned. “Leave us.” She ordered, and Jade left the room with utter obedience, while Kira remained dormant for a moment. She gained the attention of Lord Davios, who looked at her with eyes of familiarity, before he shook the thought away.
“Kira.” Celia sounded impatiently, and Kira snapped out of her trance. “Sorry, My Lady. My Lord.” She mumbled, following after Jade. The door shut heavily behind her with a loud clunk, and Jade awaited her patiently with a lowered gaze. “Hi.” She greeted nervously,
a thin smile on her lips. Kira gave her a nod. “What now?” Kira asked, causing Jade to shrug.
“I usually just wait here.” She stated, keeping her eyes fixed on Kira’s feet. “I like your dress.” She added with a shaking tone. Kira looked down at her attire, admiring the silk, and then feeling her leg. “Thank you.” Kira mumbled as she placed a hand on her suddenly throbbing leg. The milk. She thought, reaching into her pocket for a vial, yet was she felt tingled and cut at her fingers. Her eyes widened.
Her gaze dropped down to her pocket, which had a large stained patch, and within were shards of shattered glass. Fuck. She wanted to scream, and the increasing pain was only adding onto the temptation. Apparently this distress showed on her face as well. “Don’t worry.” Jade smiled, her eyes finally lifting enough to make contact with. “It happened to me too.” She said in hope to comfort, and it took Kira a moment to realise what she meant, before she frustratingly shook her head. “Excuse me.” Kira muttered, limping past Jade with haste.
She limped towards the place of her impact, where she barely saw the puddle on the white floor. She collapsed to the ground, trying to collect as much of it in her mouth as she could. Only after did she notice the small scroll of paper beside it. She grabbed it, unrolling it and reading the contents. One word. Elayna. Kira gulped at the name. Does she know? Maybe she dropped it. A rush of possibilities rushed through her mind, but one thing was certain, Lorrhen had told her not to trust Elayna.
“Kira?” A voice sounded, and Kira quickly tucked the scroll in her pocket with a rush of paranoia, and turned to meet the concerned eyes of Jade. “Are you okay?” She asked, staring at the Valyrian on the floor. Kira bit her lip, looking to the end of the corridor. If this paper was not a coincidence, then maybe she needed to find Elayna. She had previously offered to help. But with what? Kira groaned to herself. It was all so confusing. Learn the game, the words repeated in her head.
“Nothing.” Kira muttered, rising awkwardly from the floor, she turned her glance back down the corridor. “Are you leaving too?” She asked, a touch of fear in her tone. “Ruby always left me during these times, until she never came back.” She mumbled quietly, and Kira frowned. It was clear this girl was lonely, or perhaps a good actor, or another spy. Kira gritted her teeth, she had to make a decision, and quick.
[Stay with Jade] [Find Elayna]
[Find Elayna]
Like Lorrhen said, she must learn to play the game. She can't hide from Elayna forever. Perhaps, returning this scroll to Elayna will put Kira in her good graces.
[Stay with Jade]
Better make friend with another handmaiden.
[Find Elayna]
It took me a bit to decide here, but in the end, I think that ignoring Elayna is not a good move. The thing is, even Lorrhen himself shook his head when she offered to stay away from her. So, Elayna wishes to talk to her and given that she likely broke the bottle of milk of the poppy, it seems possible that she already suspects something. I believe this is a warning, that she knows something and now wishes to talk about it. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gone to such lengths. Maybe next time, the invite to talk won't be as gentle. On top of that, the effects of the milk of the poppy are wearing off, so Kira really needs to find replacement. Maybe Elayna can help there. She surely cannot serve properly with a sprained leg and well, try to explain that to Celia and Jade. Speaking of, it concerns me that she is forced to put that much effort onto her damaged leg. This cannot end well for her mobility and at worst, it won't heal properly, maybe even leaving her with constant pain. This is another thing Elayna might be able to help her with. It appears she wishes to use her for her own schemes. Given Kira's general situation right now, I simply don't think she is in any position to refuse this offer. Lorrhen told her that she has to learn and I believe that she can't get a better teacher than Elayna. Argh, I just hope I am not wrong here
I just wanted to let you know that I have sent you a couple pm's.
Alright, so I won't close the voting just yet as I'd like to wait for the others to vote still. However I do have the next part ready, and I can promise that it is a shorter part than Kira's, and it goes to her brother: Darren.
The last we saw Darren, he had awoken in Heart's Home from a concussion that Jegg gave him, and was soon met by Prince Marvion Corbray and Captain Warne Spyre. They informed him of Wyllam's escape, and while the two were glad to see Darren safe and well, Marvion was safe to say a little skeptical of Darren's story. Marvion proceeded to interrogate Darren for answers until Warne stopped him, and decided that Darren's words would be heard in the court before King Qyle. On that court, witnesses brought forward false stories of Darren's aiding in Wyllam's escape, yet Tamarra of the Vale, a travelling Andal sellsword, claimed the story she saw which she was backed by the king for. Coming to an impasse, Qyle decided that this was a fate to be determined by the gods, and left Darren with the option of either taking his chances with the septon's, or in trial by combat. You chose trial by combat, and this part resumes where it concluded last. This is part does not have a choice.
Darren
The repugnant stares of the ignorant crowd beared heavy on his shoulders, rising the hairs on the back of his neck and prickling his skin. The eyes of a kingdom looked at him, a kingdom he had served faithfully, and now was wishing to put his fate to those which could do the unmoral. The ‘gods.’ Darren lifted his gaze to Qyle, the man he had deemed a friend until this day, a day which he so easily handed his fate to the cowardice crowd demanding false justice.
“I will prove my innocence through the sword.” Darren announced bitterly, which was followed by snorts and bickering among the crowd. Qyle stared at him with a calm and solemn expression, yet there was a pain in his eyes which wavered. “Who will you name your champion?” He questioned, a slight tremor in his voice. Darren chuckled to himself.
“No man will take my justice from me.” Darren muttered, barely audible. “I will fight.” Darren announced to the crowd, evoking a gasp and putting a hush to their bickering. There was a lump in Qyle’s throat, it was evident in his difficulty to swallow what he had just heard, yet through Darren’s fury he meant his words. I will not serve a man who condemns me to the fate of the gods. He vowed to himself.
“Very well.” The voice of Lord Rogan Ruthermont sounded, sitting back in his chair. “The trial will commence at dawn. The court is dismissed.” He declared, bashing his fist against the table. The nobles of the court slowly fought their way out the narrow exits, and the guards led Darren out of the hall by his chains, passing the witnesses.
Darren’s eyes scanned the three individuals. Kristin, the coward guard. Jorrhen, the cocky merchant. Then Tamarra, a sellsword who stuck her neck out for him. Darren gave his thanks through a nod as his escort dragged him passed, and a small smile touched her lips. Then he was gone, led into the darkness of the dungeons of Heart’s Home.
-
His cell was a damp, cold concealed room of stone and iron. A torch glowed from the centre hall, casting a shadow into Darren’s confinement. Here, Darren sat, his thoughts plaguing him. He had tried to think of manoeuvres that could outsmart his opponent in the trial tomorrow, or was it today? It was hard to tell, minutes had dragged onto hours, and what was no doubt only a few hours had felt like days. That there was no natural light this far down only disorientated time further.
However, Darren’s mind forbid him to think rationally during this time of betrayal, all that was left to think of was vengeance, and he would obtain that soon. His life-changing memories flooded into his head, as clear to him as if it was actually before his eyes. The time he had saved Qyle Corbray from a certain death, and bent the knee to the man. Or the time that Darren had worked for the greedy merchants and politicians of Andalos, or when Darren has sold the family farm. Kira.
His thoughts stretched to the letter. Perhaps he may have been able to see the words of his sister if he hadn’t been so loyal to a man willing to betray him, yet now that chance had past. Maybe he would die tomorrow, fall to his opponent and never see his sister again, never start a new life with her. He shook his head, clenching his hands into fists. That’s not going to happen. He assured himself. He had to live.
The main doors to the Brokenheart Dungeon flung open with haste, smashing against the grimy stone walls. Darren lifted his gaze enough to recognise the familiar face, though whether it was a sign of comfort or not was yet to be determined. Ser Jaime Corbray stormed towards the gaoler with a fiery anger in his eyes, which was an unusual sight for the regularly jovial sweetheart of the Fingers.
“Where is he?” He yelled, startling the gaoler who documented something into his log book. “Who?” He mumbled awkwardly, clearly exhausted from his long shift. “Ser Darren!” Jaime clarified, his words seething and his eyes deadly. This caused the jailer to gulp, and a shaking finger pointed towards Darren’s cell. Jaime followed the direction until his eyes laid sight on Darren, and mellowed down with relief.
“Darren.” He exclaimed, rushing over to the cell. He turned his gaze to the gaoler, now standing by his desk. “Open this door!” Jaime ordered, but the gaoler remained dormant. “Jailer…” Jaime started, a hand placing on the hilt of his blade in warning, but Darren’s robust hand reached out to intercept the boy’s anger. “Jaime, what is it?” Darren perplexed, and Jaime frowned, his eyes were wet.
“We need to get you out of here.” He blurted, turning his attention back to gaoler, but Darren shook his head. “What is it?” He asked again, his tone softened with some sort of expectation. “Father’s champion.” Jaime mumbled, lowering his gaze. Darren lowered himself to meet those eyes. “Who?” He asked, and Jaime seemed almost unable to voice the name. “Who?!” Darren urged him, and a pained sound came from Jaime.
“Marvion.” He managed, the name barely escaping his throat. Darren released Jaime from his grip, falling back on his arse. The King’s son. He thought hopelessly. He even if he did rise victorious, he would have murdered the crown prince to do so, and would not have a place in Heart’s Home. His future had now truly been stripped away from him. The hopeless melancholy transferred into furious enragement, which unleashed itself against the bars of iron.
“Fuck him!” Darren shouted, bashing his head against the iron. “That damn bastard! FUCK HIM!” Darren screamed, his lungs emptying his voice into the air, the observant eyes from the opposing cells watching with awe. “This was Qyle’s plan all along, wasn’t it?” Darren finally muttered, sinking to the ground. Jaime shook his head, tears streaming down his eyes.
“Marvion volunteered. He believes you a traitor, and claims the Seven will back him.” He mumbled weakly, but Darren shook his head bitterly. “Qyle has betrayed me,” Darren stated nonchalantly, “and justice will be served.” Darren swore, but Jaime shook his head. “It won’t.” He mumbled miserably, gaining Darren’s attention. “Marvion is the best swordsman I’ve ever seen, certainly the best in the east.” Jaime stated melancholically. “You’ll die.” He sniffled, and Darren flashed him a weak, sympathetic smile.
“Nice to see at least one Qorbray cares for my wellbeing.” Darren chuckled, but Jaime could not bring himself to smile. “It doesn’t have to be this way.” Jaime stated in an attempt to persuade. “Warne has agreed to get you out. We can go east, to Ser Artys. He will take us in.” Jaime assured him, but Darren just shook his head.
“I can’t do that, Jaime. If it’s Marvion I must fight, it will be Marvion that I kill.” Darren stated bluntly, causing Jaime to widen his eyes. “Darren, you won’t stand a chance!” He exclaimed, but Darren just sighed. “If that’s all…” Darren muttered, causing Jaime to bash his fist against the iron. “Damn you! You stubborn bastard.” He spat, pulling himself up and making his way for the doors before halting. “No one needs to die tomorrow.” Jaime muttered, almost in a hopeless plea, before exiting the dungeons, leaving Darren to his dreadful thoughts.
-
The Venous inlet flowed calmly passed Heart’s Home and inland as Darren was released from his chains. He stood on the pebbles of his battlefield, wet from the morning dew. Here, Darren was surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, involving that of the king, and Prince Jaime. Across the arena, Prince Marvion stood tall, donned in white steel armour, bearing the crest of House Corbray on his chest and steel kite shield.
Standing independently in the earth were a pair of longswords. Lady Forlorn glimmered in the morning sky, the Valyrian steel refracting the light of the rising sun onto the stones below, seven distinct colours. Seven gods. Darren’s sword was naught but a steel longsword, which was barely a match for the art of Valyrian’s. Regardless, Darren put his trust in his sword and the skill of the man who wielded it. He stood tall in his reforged plated armour, the mail scraping against the metal with each heavy breath. His gaze stared at the septon between the swords, who looked to the crowd for courage.
“In the sight of the Seven and their diligent servants, we gather to witness the guilt or innocence of Ser Darren Tyrner. May the Father deliver justice as it is deserved, the Mother give mercy to he who deserves, the Warrior guide the sword of he who deserves…” The septon stumbled on his words as King Qyle raised his hand to silence him, and a horn was sounded. “Let’s have this over with.” He announced with some uncertainty, and the septon nodded, leaving the arena with haste. Darren reached for his shield, strapping the metal to his arm.
When the second horn was sounded, the two opponents met each other at the centre of the arena to retrieve their swords. Marvion’s sharp blue eyes pierced at Darren’s, causing a shiver down his spine. The two freed their weapons from the earth without a word, and paced a few steps back, entering a battle stance. Darren raised spun his weapon through his gloved fingers, getting a feel for the balance before raising his shield. His opponent stared at him with merciless eyes.
Without a second more, Marvion paced forward, the wet Valyrian steel pointed for Darren’s chest. Darren inhaled a deep breath, and exhaled just as Marvion threw his first strike. Darren caught the blow with his shield, staggering him back a few steps. He quickly recovered, and only just met Marvion’s second strike with a well-placed parry. Their two swords sparked on impact, sliding across each other until they were freed. Darren took the opportunity to go on an offensive.
He charged forward, swinging his longsword at Marvion’s head, which was merely blocked by his shield. Darren pushed further, thrusting at his chest, which was dodged and parried with no attempt to counter. He’s stalling. Darren noticed, catching his breath as he halted a moment. He’s trying to tire me out. He realised, backing away. He lifted his shield into a defensive posture, he needed to conserve his energy.
Awaiting for the man to pursue him, he instead did something which surprised him. Planting Lady Forlorn into the ground, Marvion undid the straps to his shield, tossing the metal to the ground. “Let’s cut the child’s play, shall we?” He taunted him, but Darren showed no response to his mockery. Instead he quickly freed his arm of his shield, throwing away the extra weight. A smirk touching the prince’s lips, Darren took grip of his longsword with both hands, and parried Marvion’s first blow.
It was quickly followed by a second, then a third, and a fourth. Darren merely parried the last before he had to push Marvion back to give him a moment to recover. He then ran his sword against the stones beneath them, before slashing at Marvion’s waist. He responded by jumping back, but Darren continued his attack. He swinged at Marvion’s sword arm, which the man barely managed to parry. He swung again, this time for the hip, which he surprisingly managed to hit. His sword dug into the chainmail, and Marvion took advantage of Darren’s lodged sword, tightening his grip around the steel. Realising his ambitions, Darren stepped back just before Marvion could slash him with Lady Forlorn, leaving him disarmed.
Marvion freed the longsword from his armour, tossing it into the river before pursuing Darren. He twisted the blade in his hands, cautiously eying Darren’s movement. Darren, left unarmed, frantically searched for options. There were few. Marvion swung the Valyrian steel blade at him, which Darren caught in the shoulder. He grunted as the steel cut deep, directly through the plating and into his flesh. He took the opportunity to land a well-placed punch on the Corbray’s jaw, which threw him off balance and into the ground, causing the crowd to gasp.
Darren took hold on the longsword, groaning as he freed it from his shoulder, and then tossed it to the ground. He chased after the fleeing man, jumping on him and throwing another punch. This was barely protected by his raised forearms, which recoiled into his face. Darren grasped his hands together, lifting them into the air and smashing them down onto Marvion’s chest plate, denting the steel and winding the prince. A gasp of air escaped his chest, and Darren stagged a moment as his armed stung from the movement. This gave Marvion a dirty opportunity.
He barely foresaw the rock flying towards his skull until it was too late, and the impact had taken place. Darren fell back into the gathering of the stone’s origins, bewildered and blurred. His vision spun and his hearing faded in and out, while his hands coursed over the stones around him. Before long, Marvion had re-entered his vision, his shield raised in the air, prepared to strike at Darren’s chest. His hands barely secured around the heart pommel of Lady Forlorn when the shield came thundering down, and as it did, Lady Forlorn swiftly flew up.
Darren eyes stared painfully into the blue eyes of Marvion Corbray, whose gaze showed a determination crumbled by shock and disbelief. A crunch occurred as the shield dented through Darren’s chest plate shortly after, digging into his chest and stealing his air. Marvion stood over him with a surprised gaze, and then blood funnelled out of his mouth. The prince tumbled down beside the knight, his sword entered through his side and exited through his collar. He silently gurgled on his own blood as Darren focused on the shield implanted into his chest.
“Argh!” Darren shouted, taking grasp of the steel and freeing it. Blood erupted from the open wound, and his breath had weakened. Yet this would not stop him. He tossed the shield aside, despite it causing him agonising pain, and pulled himself to his knees. His gaze fell upon Marvion, who stared aimlessly at towards Darren as he slowly died, his gaze pleading and sorrowful.
Darren reached for the hilt of Lady Forlorn, pulling her free. She was bathed in the blood of her master, who winced and squirmed as Darren freed her, until the life he so dearly clutched onto left him, and all that remained was a blood-escaping corpse. Darren turned his gaze to the crowd, spotting the shocked and pained gazes of the nobles, until his eyes found King Qyle, who was frozen in place. Darren tossed Lady Forlorn at his feet, before his ribs and shoulder finally reminded him of their suffering. He collapsed in the pool of Marvion and his own blood, his vision darkening until all was black.
No decision.
[Find Elayna]
Oh man, finally had the time to write the longer response this part deserves
This was an awesome part! Oh man, this was amazing. Certainly my favourite part for Darren's storyline in this chapter and likely one of my favourite parts in general. The trial by combat came faster than expected, but you did some very nice build-up over the course of this part, culminating in a truly epic battle. And what can I say... whoa. I was legitimately speechless for a moment. I expected Darren to get a very hard fight there and he surely got it, but I did not expect literally anything surrounding it. Him fighting the king's son was a cruel twist to this already cruel situation and having Marvion fight with Lady Forlorn makes it clear to me that there was never meant to be any true justice. Though he got very badly wounded here, Darren just beat the odds and I am sure he ruined more than one plan with his survival. Most importantly, I guess he ruined Qyle's plan, whatever it was. I am sure that Qyle never expected his son to die, but the fact that he so willingly sent his friend and loyal servant to death shows me that he had some sort of a plan, that he was in on this plan to frame Darren. And for this, he absolutely deserves losing his firstborn son and the pain that comes with it. He'd deserve worse, far worse, but I guess this will be all the vengeance there will be for now and it is delicious. If Jaime wouldn't be actually a decent guy, I'd call for his death as well just to spite that royal asshole. Now... well, if Qyle could just throw himself into a sword, I'd be satisfied. That fucker deserves worse than he got, but I am truly gleeful to know that he is going to mourn his son dearly. He brought it up on himself, he screwed his friend over for no reason and his son had to pay the price.
However, there is one guy whom I think will be interested in this. While I doubt he has expected Darren to win, there is Jorrhen, who previously told Darren about his intention to force him into servitude. Unless his plan was to use Darren as a fall guy, I am sure there will be further developments out of this. After all, I wouldn't be surprised if he arranged for Marvion to fight, to make sure that Darren would have no place at Qyle's side even if he actually manages to win. Maybe, in a twisted way, he will even be the one to save Darren's life, because I am pretty sure that Qyle will not bother with treating Darren's pretty serious wounds. Somebody has to and Jorrhen certainly has the means to get his wounds treated, as well as a seeming interest in him. I also just realized, maybe Tamarra is working for him actually, maybe she is meant to win Darren's trust, so that he will work with her and follow Jorrhen's orders without even knowing he is working for that guy. While I doubt Qyle had further plans, I am pretty sure that Jorrhen is going to use the opportunity this poses. And though technically a free man, I am sure that Darren's time as a pawn has only begun. And well, as scary as this thought is, I am very much hyped for what is going to come in his storyline. I also realized that somehow, both he and Kira got themselves used as pawns for Lorrhen and Jorrhen. I wonder if this was a conincidence, or if one of them only gained the interest of these two assholes after the other already had their encounter with them.
Thank you, I'm glad you liked it
Indeed, fighting Marvion was a bit of a cruel reveal to Darren, who has had a lot to do with during his service with Qyle, basically watching the man develop into who he is now. Or was 
Though you are right, with Marvion's defeat, a lot of Qyle's plans against the First Men have been pretty fucked over, and he's definitely lost the love and respect from his other son as a consequence. So there is a lot of suffering for Darren's old friend to endure.
Definitely. While Jorrhen himself may not have watched the battles, bets are that he certainly had a lot of impact on it, just as he aroused the whole situation by freeing Wyllam in the first instance. So he's certainly in it to create chaos, and you may be right in that the Corbray's won't be all that interested in helping a man that they not only condemned to death, but also murdered their crown prince. Though yes, Kira and Darren are definitely in some grounds which they will find they have little control in, and as for coincidences. Well, both Darren and Kira are working for men with rhyming names who are also related, both Darren and Kira are related, both have seriously large enemies and both are severely injured as well
Who knows, Jorrhen certainly has access to the medical expertise that belongs to his father, though he's definitely not like his father, so he may be a little less obliged to help Darren without confirmation on something in return.
[Find Elayna]
Yeah, Jaime having lost the respect for his father is very much something I approve of. Qyle is an utter piece of shit and he deserves this. At the same time, as loathsome as he is, he is a bit pathetic as well. I mean, that man just screwed over his best friend and still managed to lose so much in the process, while winning literally nothing. Safe to say, I have lost every bit of respect for the man. Darren though... shit, he is probably going to feel guilty as heck for this, because as much as Qyle is responsible for his son's death, Marvion has been a pawn here, not the kind of guy who deserved to die.
He hasn't even watched the battle? Now that is the definition of arrogance. That smug little prick is so confident in himself it seems, so I am sure that he has something else planned, an additional trick up his sleeve. I am sure he would like to use Darren for his future plans and with him claiming to have Kira as his hostage (and given who his father is, he might not be entirely lying there), he has something to control Darren. My money's on him to be the one to treat Darren's wounds, in return for his own personal hedge knight to command of course. As much as Lorrhen has probably helped Kira out of a shred of humanity, Jorrhen is surely going to want something in return and it's probably a good thing that Darren, having just proven himself to be one of the best fighters in the entire kingdom, has a lot to offer.
Hey guys, so I'm going to announce that the vote has been closed for Kira's part, she will choose to find Elayna, however there was some other things I'd like to bring up. As you've probably noticed, my activity has been pretty minimal as of late. While this has been due to commitments and school, I've usually found the time to hit out at least a part per weak, however I'm fearful that progress is going to hibernate.
You see, I have my mid-years in three weeks, which is enough stress alone, but the bastards also love to stack us up with assignments, essays and prac reports before then. So I've got a lot on my plate, and unfortunately that means I'm going to be putting my writing aside until all this has passed. There of course may be some days I get sick of it all and just write out a part, but that won't be regular, so consistency won't return for another four weeks. Apologies in advance.
I will still monitor the forums, and be active enough to read and, hopefully soon after, reply to PM's. After my exams are over, I'll have another two weeks or so of school until I reach my next term break, in which I should have a pretty good rhythm up by then, and all other projects I've been working on I'll resume
Oh and another thing, I've tidied up the chapters a little, organising them into books. It's three chapters per book, but as of today, the Invasion just gained a third book onto the list 
Ah, this is no problem, thank you for informing us about this
School is important and as far as I know, these mid-years are among the most important things you're going to do in your school life. So, don't worry, just ace them. After all, the break won't even be all that long. Four weeks, potentially with one or two parts in it if you get sick of fully concentrating on that school stuff, that doesn't sound too bad. We can surely wait and I doubt anyone won't be here anymore when you return in full. Safe to say though, I am hyped for the coming parts 
And three more chapters, I see! Now, that is awesome. Of course, it is pretty far in the future, so I cannot give much in terms of speculation, as opposed to the titles of the second book. Although these titles do sound very interesting. I kind of expect the Northern Star to be some sort of a nickname, though I don't know who this could be. A villain maybe? Hm, I kind of expected the Father from the Chapter 6 title to be a villain already (or several fathers on all ends of the moral spectrum), so I don't know. The ninth chapter intrigues me the most, surprisingly, mostly because I did not expect the final chapter of the Invasion to be named after boogeyman stories of questionable substance. So, I kind of doubt that Grumkin's and Snark's are suddenly going to appear in the story, so maybe this is a metaphorical title, maybe something that was up to then believed to be real is going to turn out to be quite the opposite. Whatever it is, I am sure these chapter titles will give me more to work with in the future. One thing is for sure, I will look out for anyone or anything that could be this Northern Star.
Indeed, it will help lead the Invasion into her sequel when that time comes (which will be no time soon at this rate
). I won't say much apart from you may be right with the ninth chapter title 
Anyway, I've added the house images to the books as well, which may help 
House Northstar is a house then, I see! Now, that is unexpected, especially as they haven't been mentioned in the story so far. So, I guess this house will only be formed in the story proper and I guess they will play a role in the sequel. That makes me wonder if we might have already met future members of this house, given that it is probably going to be founded by a major character if they get a whole book dedicated to them. You got me intrigued, but at the same time, I doubt there will be much hints to who is going to found this house and how and why they are so important, at least not until the second half of Book 2. But I'll keep my eyes open
The Northstar's certainly will play a large role in the final book, in a sense bringing the Invasion back to its northern origins. We have met the founder of this house, who has of course yet to find it
Ah, I expected that
Now I have to wonder who it will be, given that there is no Northstar yet. It has to be someone with little reason to use his old name, as I guess most of the characters in the story would just use that one. If we go by northern characters, Steffon would likely be Lord Cale, Dormund seems destined to be Lord Bolton and so on. One character who currently is in the north and has not much attachement to her family name is Alara, but I am not sure if she'd choose Northstar as the name of her own house, as she might leave the North (hopefully) and this name seems to hint at someone from the North, or someone who travels to the North, which would open the door for Andals as well. One of the Andals who probably has an interest in going north would be Davios, but I don't think he'd pick another name than Lord Tallman. Ah, I am sure that whomever it will be, it will be unexpected, yet will make a lot of sense at the same time and I cannot wait to learn more about it 
Wyllam
A gasp escaped his cold corpse as water was flushed out from his lungs onto the pebbles beside him, and an instant shiver crawled over his numb pale skin. He was surrounded by shadows, looming over him with piercing glares, yet all Wyllam could concentrate on was his breathing. He was alive, barely.
“That’s right, get it all out,” a voice encouraged him, patting him on the back. It wasn’t long before Wyllam slightly came to his senses, turning to his saviours. His torturer knelt by him with a sickening grin, his dirty hand on Wyllam’s trembling shoulders. “Hello,” he greeted sinisterly through his grin, causing Wyllam’s instincts to kick in. He swiped the man’s hand from his shoulder, starting to crawl back, before his eyes landed on the glimmering wet steel of a blade placed at his throat.
“No further shit fingers,” he barked, digging the steel into Wyllam throat. “Get him in binds, we’ll start a fire and rest before we head back,” Rylan stated with boredom, washing his hands in the icy rivulet. Wyllam barely recognised Rylan’s son, Aidin, who had been the cocky guard under Warne Spyre’s Guard. Fear now haunted his eyes.
“Are you sure that’s wise, father?” he asked with a shaky tone, causing Rylan to raise an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t it be?” He spat into his hands, greasing back his slicked hair. Aidin gulped. “We’re pretty far into Belmore lands,” Aidin mumbled with a barely audible tone, causing his father to chuckle.
“Belmore’s,” he muttered with a roll of the eyes. “Those fucks will be kissing our balls after they see Lord Wyllam over here,” he assured his son with a firm hand on his shoulder before turning his gaze to the knight with the sword to Wyllam’s throat. “Put him out, Harlick,” he ordered, and the knight obeyed without hesitance, pulling the blade away and sending the pommel into the back of Wyllam’s skull. Darkness flooded Wyllam’s vision in an instant.
-
The soft crackles of a fire was the first thing Wyllam heard when he regained consciousness, thought it was the heat that truly awoke him. Wyllam finally felt warm, and he could feel the movement in his toes, and some of his fingers. However both his ring fingers were extremely numb, as well as the pinky on his left hand.
When his eyes lowered to his hands in curiosity, they were met with a grim result. His lower two fingers on his left hand were black with frostbite, and his right ring finger… Naught but a mere stump of what once had been. He would have screamed with shock had the gag not muffled the sound to a mere moan. It gained the attention of Ser Harlick.
“Shut it, filth!” he ordered, shoving his boot into Wyllam’s side, causing him to groan more. Harlick paid him little attention, returning back to oiling his longsword. Rylan joined Wyllam by the fire, a tired look on his eyes. The sun was starting to fall in the west.
“We’ve ridden a long way to find you, and not even a thank you in return? I believe some appreciation is in place for saving your drowning arse,” he chucked, warming his hands by the fire. Wyllam glared at the torturer with menacing eyes, causing Rylan to grin. “What it would take to throw me into this fire is what you’re not doubt thinking,” he presumed with a cocky tone, but Wyllam did not flinch.
“You should kill me,” Wyllam muttered coldly, staring at the ropes which bound his frostbitten hands together. Identical binds were tied around his ankles, keeping him seated to the soil. Rylan smirked, standing himself up. “I’m sure that’s what you’d like,” he taunted, tapping Wyllam on the cheek. He rose up and walked over to his horse.
“However, Qyle has more important plans for you. Plans which will assure your little rebellion is crumbled.” Rylan pulled a dagger from his horse’s saddle, the bloodthirsty grin returned to his lips. “I suppose he doesn’t need all of you,” he remarked, twirling the dagger between his fingers. Wyllam gulped, trying to squirm away, but Rylan’s pace easily caught up with Wyllam’s struggle.
“So, balls or eye? How about-” His sentence was cut short as a something caught him in his thigh, sending a shrieking yelp of agony from him as he collapsed on the ground. Wyllam spotted the bronze tip arrow sticking out the other side of Rylan’s leg.
Harlick arose from his seat, arming himself with a shield and his sword. A second arrow came flying towards him, which was merely dodged by Harlick’s shield. Meanwhile, Rylan cursed the archer in agony, only to receive another in his back. “Come out you coward!” Harlick shouted, clearly enraged.
There was a moment of thick, suffocating anticipation with a longing silence, before a nickering horse erupted from the trees. The rider drew an arrow and released it into Harlick’s neck as his steed came thundering past. The knight stumbled a moment, almost seeming unaffected before he crumbled to his knees, falling limp into the soil by Wyllam’s side. Wyllam took the opportunity to work at his bindings with the blade, but was quickly met by the injured Rylan.
“Not so fast,” he spat, blood rushing from his mouth. He reached for Wyllam with his dagger before copping a final arrow through the throat. He sunk to the ground shortly after. Wyllam gulped, turning his gaze to his hooded saviour. Wyllam was left wordless, and his eyes quickly spotted the half nude and gagged Aidin on the back of the archer’s horse, who now dismounted.
His bow was crafted from a fine wood, and his bronze arrows suggested he was First Man. It was only when he removed his hood that Wyllam recognised him. His long wavy brown hair was of a similar length to what Wyllam’s had grown to, yet it was clearly washed and hygienic. His beard was well groomed, and his eyes dark brown. It was Paytan Hunter.
“Paytan?” Wyllam uttered in disbelief, and the kingsguard nodded in acknowledgement, taking Rylan’s dagger and attending to Wyllam’s bounds. “How can this be?” Paytan grinned, turned his gaze back to the tearing Aidin. “I found this one out searching for berries as I was hunting. Everything about him screamed Andal, and being so far into these lands, I had to investigate,” Paytan stated proudly, cutting through Wyllam’s bindings. “Good thing I did,” he added, and Wyllam nodded indefinitely, feeling his wrists loosen.
“Thank you,” Wyllam mumbled, the sight of Paytan was surreal. As soon as his hands were free he pulled Paytan into a tight embracement. It had felt like years since he had seen one of Robar’s most trusted warriors, and Paytan only proved his skills again. Paytan accepted the embracement graciously, pulling Wyllam close. “It’s good to see you again, Belmore,” he stated with an honest delight, and Wyllam could not even begin to voice his relief to see a friendly face. It had been so long.
“Let me free you of these ropes, then we can get you back to Strongsong,” Paytan informed as he cut the last bindings from Wyllam’s ankles. Before long, Paytan had Wyllam back on his feet, and a fur cloak over his shoulders. “Thank you,” Wyllam repeated, and Paytan nodded warmly. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
No decision.