(❅) and now my watch begins

All one x one role-plays go here.
Post Reply
User avatar
76heart
Site Admin
Posts: 345
Joined: Sat Apr 28, 2018 8:19 pm
Location: winterfell

(❅) and now my watch begins

Post by 76heart » Wed Sep 12, 2018 10:31 pm

Image

Image
will pretty this up later ahhh
one x one between myself and airborne hamster
please do not post here unless you are one of us

User avatar
76heart
Site Admin
Posts: 345
Joined: Sat Apr 28, 2018 8:19 pm
Location: winterfell

(❅) vella snow

Post by 76heart » Wed Sep 12, 2018 10:46 pm

Image
Image
Image




















Image
━━━the      c    h    o    i    c    e━━
Image━━━━━━;;━━━━
━━━━━━━━we'd rather━━━━
Image
t            h            a            n━━━━━━
━━━;;━━━━━Image
Image━━━━━;;━━
Image
vella is a proud free folk of the frozen shore
at the age of twenty-five, and the mildly
short height of five feet, once inch. she is
incredibly close to her dog narwynd, though
she is not nearly as close to her family. she is
the middle child, born between a set of twins,
vellnar and valness, and another child, vararr,
to her parents, vello and sresa, which has left
a mark on her. the twins were never fond of
having a sibling to take attention away from
them, and when vararr was born, they quickly
convinced him to listen to all they told him,
which often led to her butting heads with all
of them, and being one of the reasons she
left. when she left, it wasn't exactly on the
best terms, and while she is still with the
frozen shore, she hasn't returned, and has no
plans too. vella has never been one to sit
still, and longs to explore the world south of
the wall. she is stubborn and clever, but still
figuring out where her heart and loyalties lie.
vella is greatly skilled with a bow and arrow,
and has no issues using small daggers. she
also often poses as a man, as it can be safer.




















Image
gif © rightful owners
face claim © ellie kendrick
song © ready, aim, fire
- imagine dragons
character © 76heart

airborn hamster
Posts: 2
Joined: Sat Sep 08, 2018 11:05 am

(❅) sarkon lannister

Post by airborn hamster » Thu Sep 20, 2018 3:57 pm

█████████████████████████████████████████████
⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯⋯


















░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
.....Image
.──────────────
.LANNISTER PRINCE
.──────────────
.....Image
















░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
.██████████████████████████
..● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●
..... SARKON LANNISTER
..────────────────
..● age: twenty five ●height: 6'0 ●status: crown prince ●he/him
..────────────────
born in kings landing, to the current king and queen of westeros,
sarkon has lived a life of unimaginable finery. everything this pri
nce has wanted, he has received without objection. and so is us
ed to getting what he wants, and quickly. sarkon was the favour
ed out of the royal lannister children, to begin with. with three b
rothers to possibly contest his rightful claim to the throne, sark
on appeared the strongest - the best fit. but this all changed wh
en, to prove his worth as westeros' future king, he was expected
to show his competency when cutting down a rebellion that had
broken out, against his father's rule. deadly with a sword, sarkon
had no doubt in his mind that he was crush these insects and hi
s worth would be proved. but it was not to be. on the battlefield,
one of his brothers betrayed him, causing sarkon to lose numer
ous numbers and ultimately for the rebellion to sweep further int
o the city. this disaster, was blamed on sarkon. his brother, now
having the upper hand, blamed the whole ordeal on sarkon. to
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
░░
[
● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●
...Image
──────────────
HEAR ME ROAR
──────────────
...Image
──────────────
FINE ARROGANCE
──────────────
████████████████████████████

make matters worse, news of this reached his father's ears and the prince could
do nothing as his brother, now having his father's confidence, then thwarted the
rebellion and his claim for the throne became as a great, if not even greater, than
his own. by this betrayal, sarkon's image as the favoured prince began to fade and
fade. no longer would the prince greet people with smiles and courtesy. from the
humiliation he became lost within himself, completely blind at which path to now
take. but one, simple, but clear thing was evident to him. sarkon had to find a way
to regain favour. therefore, the young prince found himself becoming fascinated,
perhaps even obsessed with the sunset isles. they had not been charted. no one
truly knew what was out there...what if sarkon was the one to unravel this mystery?
surely this impressive feat, this impressive discovery, would be remembered for th
ousands of years to come? so not telling anyone, least of all his brothers, about wh
at he was doing, sarkon simply told his father that he was going to the north - on a
royal procession of sorts, to remind the country of lannister prowess. so leaving ki
ng's landing, that was how sarkon found himself at the 'edge of the world'. in terms
of personality, sarkon can be very arrogant. although not minding those of the
lower classes, the prince has a tendency to look down on them and will not speak
to anyone any longer than what is absolutely necessary. therefore, sarkon can com
e across uptight and cruel (especially since he speaks his mind). but under that lay
er that has grown due to his humiliation - it serves also as a protection from people'
s jeers and negative thoughts about him - sarkon is very kind-hearted. with those t
he prince gets along well with, he has a tendency of quickly becoming very attache
d to them and very clingy. true friends, true companions have been sparse in his li
fe and so if sarkon feels he can trust someone, they become the prince's friend for
life...until they prove otherwise. a great lover of animals, the prince has a soft spot
for dogs and often when alone, will sketch and draw whatever comes to mind. how
ever, sarkon is angered very quickly. he doen't like liars and can't stand disobedience.

airborn hamster
Posts: 2
Joined: Sat Sep 08, 2018 11:05 am

sarkon lannister [1]

Post by airborn hamster » Thu Sep 20, 2018 4:06 pm

───────────────────────────
✦ ✦SARKON LANNISTER ✦ ✦
───────────────────────────
  • lions, had no business where the wolves ruled. and as the eldest prince of the lannister family snaked his icy blue eyes across across the barren, frost coated landscape, sarkon lannister, found he couldn't agree more. lions although welcome in the wolves territory, were not an incredibly wanted or welcome sight, and were most definitely frowned upon if they dared to meddle in the stark's affairs (although technically the stark's were under the lannister's power as hand of the king and therefore the lions had every right to do so). but the weather, scathing itself along the lannisters skin in freezing lines was almost a personification of the north's irritation of the lannisters being here; the biting cold, dug like knives to the bone, the wind whipped and tugged relentlessly at their hair and clothes, the snow placed deathly kisses upon their skin as if to usher them back to the warmth of their homeland - and the prince couldn't help but wonder, how people survived in such weather, how civilisations were forged and maintained in such hostile environments as himself and his massive entourage, cut their way through the land like a spear. but these northerners were wolves, sarkon reminded himself. they had adapted to the bareness of the world, learnt the ways of nature's cold embrace - the lions would merely only have to do the same if it came to ever fighting them...and if it ever came to finding out what really layed behind the great wall that to some, marked the edge of the world.

    sarkon was all too aware of just how close he would be to the haunted forest, the lands of always winter, that hovered like a rearing snake, readying itself to strike, behind the formidable wall of ice. but no one really knew what was beyond the wall and for those that were stupid enough to venture into the cold abyss, most often than not, never returned. but the prince had no desire to follow in their footsteps - however tempting the mystery of what really layed behind the wall may be. his interest was in the west - a place that none had ventured to before and a place that sarkon believed, promised greater rewards. the lannister prince intended to be the first to reach the sunset isles, to uncover its mystery. let one of castle black's men, a delinquent, the lowest of the low, uncover the mystery of the north. it would most probably just be more snow, the north was plentiful of it, after all - and legends were not forged by finding snow. so pressing forwards, ignoring the cold as its rippled his crimson cloak wildly behind him, sarkon's eyes remained glued to the horizon before him. anytime soon, the wall would be visible and everything else, senseless thoughts about the 'might' and 'hardiness' of the starks, would be a distant memory. although on good terms with the starks, power was always a fragile thing and one never knew when the tables may turn. but at this current moment, sarkon lannister had no dealings with the starks and he had the sneaking suspicion that if war ever did rage between the two houses, sarkon would not be the one to lead the lannisters to glory - oh no, that honour would fall to his brother. the traitor, the betrayer, who had effectively left sarkon for the lions to devour upon deceiving him at 'the rebellion of king's landing'. just thinking about his brother made the prince's skin crawl with anger. he had loved his brothers, perhaps too deeply, but believed before the rebellion that each would have the other's back - how wrong he had been. so taking in his surroundings with curious and ever alert, attentive eyes, it was obvious to sarkon that this may be the only time that he would be able to see this land in peacetime - or in anytime at all. his family were very power hungry, always wanting more when already they had so much. so, as the snowflakes fell onto sarkon's blonde hair, the prince after a while found himself growing impatient. there was not a lot to see long the king's road and this journey had already taken long enough. when they finally arrived at castle black, it would be nothing short of a blessing.

    casting his eyes upwards, the sky was a pregnant grey, the leaves and branches were thin and sharp like bony fingers as they marked themselves against the murky light of the sky...the north, was very different from king's landing. the sun didn't seem to shine here; its rays of warmth were absent, lush greens littered with blooming reds, pinks, yellows and blues therefore nonexistent and lowering his head to look back in front of him, sarkon lannister, in all honesty, had not been too sure on what to expect on his journey northwards as he travelled along the king's road. the prince had not anticipated the north to be so cruel in its weather, that was for sure. all around him were signs of suffering - villages were falling apart, stone walls cracking against the cold press of the land as snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky - as if nonchalant of the people's hardships. as the lannister group passed through, sarkon took the sights in with mild interest but as always, with an air of arrogance. he had been expecting...more grandeur. a greater sign of wealth and dominance, since they were in stark territory, after all. but, of course, he had not seen winterfell, the staple of the north - but the lannister had no intention to. he wanted to get to castle black as quickly as possible. complete his quest, as quickly as possible. but regardless, the emptiness of the land surprised him slightly...and it made sarkon wonder and realise, that those who lived and survived here might possibly have to be the toughest in all of westeros. the northerners were known for their grit, unlike the southerners and lifting his head slightly, a flicker of distaste of how a house could be greater than the lannisters, flickered briefly across his face. when he discovered the secret of the sunset isles, the lannisters, without a doubt, would forever be the greatest house of westeros. it didn't take sarkon long to return his focus and attention back to the chilling horizon - a horizon that many men and women fell to, as this thought remained paramount in his mind.

    once the favoured prince, the young lannister had not been permitted to leave the capital city's walls - less some ill fate befall him but now he was free to enter these harsh, cold lands, with no objection. after his failed military campaign that resulted in his ultimate disgrace, it appeared his family couldn't care less what happened to him now. so upon weaving the lie that sarkon was heading north to remind the country of lannister prowess, none raised a finger to argue - there was more than one lannister prince, after all. so, as his white stallion walked over the snow ridden ground, his entourage behind him churning the white into brown, the prince realised that he should have been upset, moved by his family's display of un-affection towards him. but he was not. the eldest prince had turned to stone from these past years, and his heart along with it. the only thing that could move him now would be the failure of the quest that he had planned to execute - this being unravelling the secrets of the sunset isles. only the failure of that quest, could truly hurt him now and shifting his eyes from his men following behind him and over the ones protecting him in front, towards the horizon, sarkon eradicated all thought of his home and people and instead, let determination wash over him - hardening his blue eyes as the treeline slowly began thin around him. this quest of his would be successful but sarkon was not completely sure as of this moment, just how exactly he was going to escape his entourage and sail to the uncharted west - there was no way if his men knew, that they would ever allow such a thing to happen. so, tightening his grip around the reigns a little tighter, the lannister prince gave himself time to think over the future at hand. sarkon was adamant that he would think of something - things would fall into place. that, he was sure of...his claim to the throne of westeros counted upon it. therefore he couldn't fail - it simply wasn't an option.

    'your majesty' a voice cried, breaking the silence that had been wrapped around the prince and the entourage for many hours. turning his head to face the man who had spoken, sarkon watched as the guard moved his horse next to his and remaining silent, sarkon simply raised his eyebrows to indicate that he should continue speaking. the prince was in no mood to talk, to chat but he knew that his men understood this so keeping his eyes on the heavily armoured man, the prince waited for him to continue. there was a look of content upon his face, upon closer inspection, which suggested to sarkon that whatever he was about to say, would bring good news. and glancing briefly in front of him, past the throng of men and horses which protected him from danger, although the horizon for sarkon was concealed - the prince could hazard a guess as to what this lannister's next words were going to be. the prince's eyes lightened when he spoke - it appeared he was correct. the words did bring sorely needed news that he wanted to hear. 'we're almost at castle black, your grace. you can't see the wall from the here, the forest is simply too thick but my scouts in front have confirmed that we are close' shifting in his saddle, the guard smiled briefly, nodding in the direction of the wall. 'with any luck, we'll be there by nightfall'. sarkon inclined his head to the guard and wafting his hand airily in the space between the two of them, sent him away. sarkon was hoping that they would have arrived at castle black before nightfall - to give himself a chance to familiarise himself with the vicinity, the people, and their rotations so that he could slip out unnoticed - to help plan out his quest and how he was going to travel west with no questions being asked. that would be more tricky now, at least until the sun rose once again but there was some hope in all this. the lannisters had been informed by the lord commander, that they were free to stay as long as they wanted, which gave sarkon unlimited time to form the best plan that he could. this was because although castle black believed the lannisters to be on a procession of some sort, sarkon had also weaved the lie that they had come to castle black to inspect that everything was to a suitable level. the starks, did not do this, and although sarkon was really here for a different reason, at least it would make his house look more respectable in the eyes of the average person. make the lannister house, notorious for its wealth and always repaying its debts, look as if it actually cared.

    so, after a couple more hours of relentless riding, the grey sky now tainted by darker blues and blacks, the tree line had thinned considerably and finally, at long last, the wall was visible for all to see. it was an imposing sight - even for a lannister and sarkon could hear murmurs of disbelief and uneasiness pass over his men as all of them took in the icy wall - stretching miles into the distance and miles into the heavens. in the fading light, the wall sparkled dangerously - the sharper edges glistening with deadly promise. as the wind once again picked up, causing himself and his men to duck slightly at the sudden ferocity, sarkon couldn't help but visualise the wall as a massive wave - threatening to swallow them all...maybe the myths and legends about strange creatures behind the wall were true, after all? why would something of this size be here if the land beyond it was innocent? briefly, the lannister prince wondered if he was indeed looking in the wrong place to prove his worth but then his eyes shifted to rest upon castle black and that thought disappeared entirely. the place was a wreck. like the villages and towns they had passed through, it was falling apart and a sense of both dread and annoyance passed over him when remembering the lie he had spun as to why he had arrived here - to inspect that this stronghold was efficient. it was clear even from where sarkon and his men were, that the castle was in disrepair and the prince had to use all of his self control from rolling his eyes in irritation at the sight. he would have to spend a couple of days or weeks perhaps, doing what he had 'promised' and gritting his teeth he dug his heels into the stirrups of the horse and urged it forwards. the sooner they arrived, the sooner sarkon could get his broken promise out of the way and focus on the paramount task that the prince set himself.

    upon nearing the castle, the prince could hear shouts and commands being ordered and thrown around from the walls and slowly but surely the gates to castle black creaked opened and the lord commander, flanked by what sarkon guessed were other high standing men of the castle, waited for the lannisters as they entered the courtyard. it was a few hours into the night by this time but none of the men looked tired - only his men - which was quite embarrassing to the young lannister. so letting a stable boy take his horse, sarkon dismounted gracefully, with the air of a proud lion and turned on his heel towards the lord commander. imposing in his height, imposing in the heavy armour and blood red cloak that trailed along the snow and mud behind him, the prince offered the most charming smile as the men of castle black bowed before him. but his icy eyes never moved from the lord commander and walking to him, sarkon placed his hands behind his back as he tilted his head slightly to one side in inclination. 'lord commander' sarkon greeted. 'a pleasure to meet you at last. i thank you for having myself and my men here, it will be our pleasure to make sure that this castle of yours is...effective.' momentarily glancing to the wood, rotten and flaking in places, sarkon made it evidently clear that he was not impressed with the sight and delighted in the heat that graced the men's faces before him as a nasty smile etched upon his lips. how they let this place get into such disrepair in the first place was beyond the prince's understanding and the lord commander was about to respond when the loudest racket pierced the air. all at once, like a predator locating its prey, the lannister's head whipped towards the source of the sound. in the darkness, the firelight the only source of light, it was hard to determine just what the commotion was all about. but sarkon found he didn't have to wait long. out of the shadows, two men were dragging a third towards the lord commander and raising one eyebrow, sarkon bored his eyes into the man being dragged towards them with curiosity. he had always been curious as to how those who misbehaved were dealt with here but upon closer inspection the clothes the third man was wearing...were entirely different - no, this was going to be a different scenario all together. and sarkon sensed the lord commander stiffen, much to sarkon's intrigue when his eyes too locked with the stranger being brought towards them. the lord commander offered a light apology to sarkon at the rude interruption but raising a hand, sarkon indicated that it was no bother. such formalities bored him anyway - this, this was much more exciting and moving his hand from his back to rest upon the golden lion head hilt of his sword, he ordered his men briefly and abruptly to find rooms to rest. the prince wanted to be alone for this - wanted to be without his men's prying eyes watching his every movement. when they resisted, he assured that he was in capable hands with the lord commander and quickly, with a harsh glare from the prince, they dispersed, leaving sarkon alone with these men. feeling a weight lift from his shoulders, his attention moved back to the three back nodding when the two men dragging the third bowed to him, sarkon's eyebrows raised ever so slightly when hearing the story aired in the space between them. how...fascinating.

    the man to right, spoke first. 'this bastard was found sneaking around the walls, lord commander' sarkon flinched ever so slightly, the language quite offensive to the lion's ears. ' he's aint one of our men, the beast that followed him almost bit me hand off!' now, sarkon did his best to repress a smile from edging the corner of his lips upwards. these people were quite interesting and it was no wonder to the prince why this place was in such a state when men like this were manning the walls. but keeping his focus on the man in the centre, sarkon realised there was an air of curiosity, otherworldiness about him. had he come from beyond the wall? was the beast a dire - wolf? a fabled creature that the lion had never seen before? countless questions raced and entered his mind but more than anything, irritation and distaste was foremost. sarkon just wanted to head west, undetected, but with the arrival of this interference, since he was not a member of castle black, that now, would mean it would be much more difficult to execute his plan and escape the walls as if one man had got so close to the wall from the outside - what was to stop many others from doing the same? more guards would be placed on duty. more patrols would be initiated and sarkon's eyes continued to narrow as the men continued in their rambling. all the prince wanted was luck, but in the first few moments of arriving here, this is what he had been graced with.

    'we 'ave the beast locked up at the moment, lord commander - but we thought we best 'and this bastard over you - claims e's not a wildling but we know better' a hideous grin etched upon the man's face and sarkon slid his focus to the lord commander, analysing the captured man before him. the lannister found it impossible to tell what he was thinking but would the prince let the lord commander kill this boy? when he quite possibly could be a wilding? the lannister knew it was so but that was all the more reason that sarkon wanted him alive...he could be useful. and useful things were always prized to the golden prince. so taking in the lord commander's unreadable expression before sliding his icy blue eyes back to the boy, the lannister prince laughed smoothly. 'my lord, if this boy was a wildling, surely if the legends and myths hold themselves true, both of those men would be dead by now.' sarkon's words were full of amusement, as his tongue ran slowly over his teeth. 'and the beast? if it were a beast, again, surely they would not be standing here - both of the men standing here defeats the very purpose of a beast. there must have been some...misunderstanding. at least give the boy the chance to explain himself' sarkon purred, his eyes glittering dangerously in the firelight as they slid back to the boy in the centre, the ghost of a smile playing upon his crimson red lips.

User avatar
76heart
Site Admin
Posts: 345
Joined: Sat Apr 28, 2018 8:19 pm
Location: winterfell

(❅) vella 001

Post by 76heart » Thu Sep 27, 2018 8:24 pm

Image
Image
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
xxxSnow, and wind colder than ice whipped at the exposed skin of her face, and the clothes covering her body as she was dragged toward the Wall, toward Castel Black, by two men, one on either side of her. She wished she could say that the two taller men flanking her provided some cover from the harsh winter snows, but they did not, and her hands were not free to tighten the hood around her face so her darn nose wouldn't freeze. Gods, why did she have to get herself stuck in this awful predicament? Maybe this was punishment for leaving her family, for deserting her community, though she doubted that was the case; the Old Gods of the North didn't seem that cruel, they weren't like the ones the southerns supposedly had that seemed cruel and corrupt, the ones that they cut down the Weirwoods to worship. Bah, why did she even want to go over to begin with? Why did she want to enter into that? They were horrible, people who blindly followed and kneeled to a king they didn't choose, she didn't want to be anywhere near that, and that was everywhere south of the wall; the land was filled with people following all sorts of lords and ladies, kneeling beneath the ones they deemed to have higher worth. It was stupid, ridiculous, and yet, she wanted to see something more than snow, to feel warm sunlight place it's kiss upon her skin, not heavy furs and biting cold, and going beyond the wall was the only way to feel that. It was incredibly unfortunate, given what she was and the world she'd be going into, but it was truly the only way, and she wished that it wasn't, so then maybe she wouldn't be here now, in this humiliating and terrible situation. She had only meant to get close to the wall, to see it up close and bask in it's magnificence, and maybe follow it to either side to see if there was a way she could pass through, or get over, that had been all she had been meaning to do, how had it all gone so wrong, and gotten her into this tricky bind? What would her family think if they saw her now? Surely, while her siblings were laughing, her parents would be disgraced, and her heart fell at the thought of her mother feeling or thinking such a thing. Her mother, oh gods, what torment had she been putting her through ever since she left? How much pain had she caused her when she just up and left in the night, with no promise that she'd ever return? Gods, she was despicable. Her mother had always been kind, had always cared for her, more than any other awful member of her family, and she didn't deserve this. She should have at least told her mother what she was doing, and give her that peace of mind and assurance that she'd be fine, and would maybe come home someday if the world saw it fit, but she hadn't done that, she had just left them all without a word, and left her family to assume that she was forever dead and gone, never to return. She couldn't even go back and try and fix this now, there were very few ways she saw herself getting out of this alive, and none would lead her back home, or any place that would allow her to go there. She had no choice but to deal with the consequences, and the guilt, and hope that someday some miracle would allow her to go back a fix it, and tell her mother that she was okay. Until then, at least she had her siblings to think about whenever her mother popped into her mind, and she could quickly lift her mood with thoughts of how glad she was to be away from them, and of how terrible they had been. It probably wasn't much better to dwell on her bitterness toward them than wallow in the sadness and guilt she felt toward leaving her home, specifically her mother, without so much as a goodbye, but she didn't care. Her days, minutes even, were likely numbered, and until she knew she had more time, she was going to spend those minutes however the hell she wanted to, and right now, that was being bitter. Bitter at the two men who had caught her, and her insufferable siblings.
xxxDuring the years where she had been younger, they had been rather like pests to her, and the three of her siblings seemed to delight in the moments in which they made things harder for her, which only made her dislike them more. They were awful, horrible, and she was glad to be away from them at least. Before the fourth sibling and been born, the twins, Vellnar and Valness, both especially tall for their age, loved to tease Vella about how short she was, and about how tiny she'd be when they were older, which she hated, even now. She knew she was shorter than most, but she didn't need the twins to tell her that, or use her head as an unwilling arm rest to rub it in and prove a point, which they did as grown adults with enough sense and brain to know that wasn't right to do. That wasn't nearly the worst of it though, things got worse once the youngest sibling, Vararr, got a little older, and the twins quickly roped him into their schemes. Without them around to tell him what to do, her little brother was actually somewhat nice, and showed some remorse in what he did, but with them, he was completely different. He looked up to their two older siblings, and wanted their approval, and to get that approval, he would do almost anything. He would mess with her sled when the siblings told him to, so she'd look like a complete fool in front it the entire Frozen Shore, he would hide or take something of hers and put it somewhere high and out of her reach, so she'd have to suck up her pride and ask someone, usually her mother, to help her get it back. Those instances were always so humiliating, and unfortunately seemed to get him the most approval from the twins. Of course, they didn't let their little brother do all of their dirty work; they would still try and convince their father that she was doing all of that to them, that she was the trouble maker, and they always knew ways to get her angry enough to back up their point. She knew what they were doung, and knew better than to listen to their goading, but they always without fail, managed to find something she couldn't just sit there and ignore, and got her to show how angry and somewhat wild she could be in front of their parents, which always ended in glares from her father, Vello, and a look of disappointment from her mother, Sresa. Her mother knew what the twins were doing, and she tried to get them to stop it, so when she gave her that look, it could only be one of disappointment in her giving in, and letting them win, and that's what hurt the most. Maybe she didn't say goodbye because she was afraid of getting that look again, though she also knew that wasn't true. Her mother would be sad, but she would have supported her. Her mother had picked up on the hints Vella had given in the weeks before she left to let them know that was what she was planning on doing, and she had taken each one with grace, and kindness, and didn't even seem surprised. Vella had never really fit in with their community; she stopped using the sleds years ago- partly because of her siblings' meddling-, she only ever cared to have one dog, and often disagreed with most there. She spent her days out in the snow with Narwynd, hunting with only him, and then exploring when that didn't work out, all the while trying to get closer to the wall. She guessed her mother had noticed that, and saw it as only a matter of time before she finally did it, and quickly noticed her plan when she dropped the hints. She had finally gone and done it, finally left to go to the wall- and she hoped that her mother knew that-, but of course, instead of finding a way over, or even getting close enough to really look at it, she had gone and gotten herself captured like an idiot. She had just been meaning to look, just wanted to see it up close, but one of the rangers at her side had seen her, and her time of true freedom had ended. At least Narwynd bit one of them, that was quite satisfying to watch, although she didn't like the way one of them practically dragged him with her. He didn't need to do that, her dog would follow her anywhere on his own, even with two unwelcome strangers flanking her.

xxxFinally, the four of them reached the gates that lead through the wall, and she had to tear her gaze away from the Wall that took her breath away, and turn her attention from her mess of thoughts towards the gates as they opened that looked- no, that can't be right. How could something so glorious, so giant, so tall and imposing, so magnificent, house these ancient looking gates that looked as if they hadn't had any proper care in years? They did their job, sure, but carefully cared for did not seem to be a trait that could be put to them. It was surprising that they wouldn't constantly be attending to them when they were, as far as she knew, the only way to get past the Wall without climbing, going over, though then again, was it really that surprising to her if the two men at her sides were good examples of want could be found in Castle Black? Not really. They didn't seem to be the most brilliant of men, and if the rumors of the castle being filled with criminals that chose to take the black to avoid death were true, that would certainly make sense. She wanted to call them cowardly for doing that, but really, she knew that if she was in their shoes and given the same chance, she would choose the same. Sighing, she looked briefly down at the frozen floor, before looking back up at the gates to watch them slowly rise, and someone from within turned some sort of crank to open them after a short from one of the men at her side, the one to her left. She could hear the inner mechanisms working, and straining with age, and it seemed that Narwynd could hear them too, judging by the way his head tilted to the side and his ears swiveled, seeming to try and locate the sound. This would all be new to him too, so at least she wouldn't be in this completely alone.
xxxAfter what felt like several slow and grading minutes, the gates had opened enough to pass through, and to get her walking with them again, one of them gave her an unnecessary and rather rough shove forward, which caused her to stumble a step, and send the man a glare. She wanted to fight that, to protest it at least a little, but she knew better than that. She was at their mercy, and if she wanted herself and Narwynd to get out of this alive, she had a feeling she needed to do as they said, and not try and attack one of them again. She had already tried running when they first spotted her, and due to her shorter stature and the deep snow, they had quickly caught hold of her, and apprehended her with ease. Vella let out another sigh, though really more of a huff, and continued walking with them until they passed fully through the gates, and the two of them paused. The one holding Narwynd asked a near by man to take him somewhere to be locked up, and that had her straightening and refusing to move. Screw listening to them and doing as they said, she was not going to let them take her dog anywhere. "Hey! What are you doing? That's my dog, you can't do that! Bring him back, don't touch him!" Vella shouted, trying to wrench one of hands free from her captors. She watched as they ignored her, and the other man began leading Narwynd away after placing some rope around his neck. He gave a loud bark, and tried running back to her, but the man only gave a pull, and her loyal friend was forced to follow one of the crows with a low whine escaping his throat. She opened her mouth to protest again, still struggling against them, but before she could get a word out she was shoved forward once again, this time more harshly, and she went silent, though she still didn't make it easy for them to drag her, and continued to try and squirm away, while pushing against the ground with her heels, digging them into the earth. She heard one of them- she didn't care enough to see which it was- let out a very annoyed curse as she continued to make it difficult for them, and the smallest of grins spread upon her face. She nearly hit one in the head with an elbow shortly after, but he managed to duck his head out of the way before it made contact, which, although mightily disappointing for her, was probably for the best. She still needed to get out of this alive, and whacking one in the head was not a good way to convince them to just let her go and be on her merry way. She did secretly want to try that again though, and hope she did make contact "accidentally" as she tried to worm her way out of their grip, but before she even had the chance to try, she heard some new voices, and a flash of bright red caught her eye and pulled her attention to it, causing her to still. It was hard to see through the darkness and dim lighting, but there was a man there, not dressed like the others; in heavy armor and a blood red cape attached at the shoulders, with golden blond hair, and he was staring straight at her, his eyes boring in, and she swallowed, allowing the men to easily drag her toward them. He looked rather important, and she had caught his interest, which did not seem to be a good thing at all. If anyone asked her to bow to him or anyone else there though, she was either going to spit on their face, or their shoes. That was something that would not change, even if he turned out to be the king. She had no king, and they could not make theirs her own.

xxxThe closer they got to the men in the courtyard, the more angry she became, though she became more afraid too, and more worried with each step. They could kill her just like that, with no remorse, and leave her lying dead on the ground before she even had the chance to defend herself or convince them otherwise, and that thought was terrifying. What would they do to Narwynd if he was killed? They had already taken him somewhere to be locked up, what more would they do? The possibilities of that honestly scared her more, that dog was her world, and she couldn't let them harm him, she had to get out of this alive, or make sure he would be safe, no matter what it would take. That fear did not keep her from meeting the golden man's gaze as soon as she was able however; if his gaze held a challenge that she could not yet see, she had no intentions to back down from it, and give him the impression that she was weak, or willing to back down. She could see his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, and watched as he gave men in similar attire and colors some sort of order. Vella couldn't quite hear what it was, but she assumed it involved them going somewhere, as after what appeared to be some protest from them, they left the man's side, and he was alone with a few men of Castle Black who seemed to be of importance. Her eyes narrowed, and when they stopped before the golden man, and the two at her sides bowed, she simply fixed him with a glare. There was no way she was bowing to him or anyone else. She continued to glare at him when the man to her left, and the golden man's right spoke, and she couldn't help the grin that graced her features as he ever so slightly flinched at the foul word that escape the man's lips. Ah, so he's from a finer place, one with fancy things and dressy clothes. To be displeased to hear the word 'bastard' he had to have grown up in luxury, some prissy place where so much as a speck of dirt was considered a travesty and fit was thrown, and that only added to her guess of him being someone quite important, though, how important exactly was he? Did he have authority over The Lord Commander, king of crows, or was he in a position elevated above even him? Her grin faded as the man spoke again though, and her fierce glare was then turned on the man. "If you call my dog a beast again, I'll be the one biting your hand." Vella threatened him, her words leaving in a quiet hiss, and she fixed him with an even colder glare. Narwynd was no beast, he was the most loyal and friendly companion any of these men could ever have, and certainly the best friend she had ever had. Out of the corner her eye she could see the golden man attempting to repress what she assumed was a smile from edging onto his lips, and her gaze was then turned back to him. He seemed cocky, arrogant, with fancy clothes, and she had no doubts that he wanted to smile at the man's words. She didn't like him.
xxxHer attention returned back to the other man however, the one at her side, as he opened his mouth to speak once more, and she was about to interrupt him and remind him of her threat she had given him moments ago that she very much intended to go through with if he didn't listen, but before she could, he said something else that pulled her focus from the fact he had in fact, called her dog a 'beast' again. She blinked as he continued, ignoring the hideous smile working it's way onto her face as he finished. Her glare turned to squinted eyes of confusion, and her lips parted in disbelief. Not a wildling? How daft was this idiot? She was offended by the term of course, but she had never said she wasn't one, merely that she was part of the Free Folk instead, which he would have understood if he had any brains hidden inside his thick skull. How had he even gotten that she said she wasn't a wildling? Gods, he really was stupid, no wonder the gates looked neglected.
xxxThere were a few silent moments that followed his words, where Vella pondered how the man could have possibly fathomed that, and then the silence was broken, by the blond man, and she could feel his gaze sharply on her once again. She looked up to watch him, her gaze sliding back over to him, frowning at his smooth laugh, and glaring as he pulled the attention fully onto him with that irritating sound. Her eyes narrowed as she listened. He spoke of the legends told of wildlings, of how both men would be dead by now if they were true, and his words were full of amusement, his tongue slowly running along his teeth. He definitely wanted something, she knew that much, and she certainly hoped that it wasn't her, but deep down, she knew she had to at least be a part of it, as if she wasn't, he would just let them get on with it and kill her, or whatever else they had planned; people south of the wall didn't hold any such mercy for her kind, they saw the Free Folk as murders, raiders, and far words things, not friends and useful allies, and truthfully, not even all the other communities didn't see the others like that too. Her eyes narrowed further as he the proceeded to speak up again, continuing on, and extended the sake sentiments to a beast. Her frown deepened even more as he then went on to say that she should give her a chance to explain herself, his voice sounding like a purr. Was this what honeyed words sounded like? As he fixed her with the ghost of a smile, his words still echoing in her mind, she quickly decided that she really didn't like him. He already seemed too arrogant, too princely, more so than she had thought before, and if there was anything she wasn't fond of, it was that. She wanted to hold his gaze, to send him a challenge, but then she caught sight of the way his eyes glittered dangerously in the firelight, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. She had so far been lucky that none of the men around her doubted that she too, was a man, but now, with the way his eyes glinted into the light, and the intensity in which he stared into her own, she feared that if he stared into her eyes too long in the way he was now, that he'd see she was a woman, even with her face largely shaded and hidden by the hood still resting atop her head, and the darkness cloaking her features. She quickly looked away after a moment of meeting his eyes, acting as if movement elsewhere in the castle's courtyard had caught her interest. At least falling snowflakes catching the light in a specific way could provide a good excuse if she was asked, or suddenly noticing the castle that surrounded her, which wasn't entirely false. She was noticing it now, and her brown eyes trailed along the wooden frames that held the castle in place. Some of them were rotted, and as her eyes traveled along each one, she noticed how old it looked, realizing it probably looked as old as it actually was. She was a little disappointed with it really. Vella didn't know what she was expecting, after all she had no basis of what to expect, their worlds were too different, but she had been expecting something that wasn't this run down. It was rather decrepit, with crumbling stone in places she could just barely see through the dancing firelight cast upon the old walls, and it was not nearly as grand as she had imagined it to be. For a thing that held the name of something normally so grand, so pristine, something many desired, it was a pretty lousy castle, especially when compared to the Wall it was built to protect. The wall was magnificent in every way, even in the darkness it was menacing, yet beautiful all the same. The icy fortress stood tall, rising high into the sky, higher than she could see in the night, and the light from the torches caused the ice it was made of to glitter. She should hate it; it had been built to keep the White Walkers out, by her people and the giants so long ago, and now it was just meant to keep her people in, but she couldn't bring herself to despise it. It was too beautiful, and it was the key to getting to the other side, and feeling things like grass, and the warm sun upon bare skin. It was getting a few seconds too long to be distracted by such things though, so she slowly let her brown eyes slip back towards them, starting at her feet, and slowly moving up to the golden man's ones of icy blue. She imagined that in the daylight, they would rival the great Wall for their color. Letting out a puff of air in a soft exhale, watching as the cloud of vapor floated up into the night sky, she finally found the courage to speak again, and the ice returned to her glare. "If it's anything to you, I'd just like my dog, and my bow back. If you break that, I can't promise I won't break you, and if any of you want me to bow, it's not happening." Vella told them, glancing briefly to the Lord Commander. She knew there was no chance of them letting her go, and thusly no need to add that after she'd be on her merry way, no matter how much she wanted to let the words roll off her tongue. She wasn't sure what the Commander would be thinking, or how well he would take to her subtle threat, but it was too late to take her words back now, and trying to amend them would not help because they were already out and in the air, so she continued, straightening her form and returning her challenging glare to the golden man. "And we wildlings prefer being called the Free Folk. You won't like being called filthy southerners, I'm sure, so don't call us wildlings." Vella added, glancing pointedly at the idiot who had thought she said she wasn't one, and then looking to the golden man with a raised brow, curious to see his reaction to that. Had he not been there, she doubted she would have been so brave to say the things she was, as he seemed less likely to call for her head than the Lord Commander, but that wasn't the case, so there was no point in thinking it, and besides, for the moment, she was too intrigued by the thoughts of what he would say or do in response to truly care for that. That, and she wanted to know where her bow and Narwynd were. She assumed the bow was near him, as it, along with the matching quiver had been on the shoulder of one of the men holding her, and she no longer saw it after she had shouted for them to bring Narwynd back, but truthfully she had no idea where it was, and she just hoped that she'd find out soon. She had spend a good year making them both and getting them to perfection, and if she lost them to these brilliant minds or they managed to break them, it would be more than a small shame.

Post Reply