Post #1500747 in A Song of Ice and Fire, a roleplay on RPG

[Kayyyy, I dunno. If there's something I screwed up, tell me. e___e;;]

;; Sirena D'Airelle ;;

Sirena glanced down at the horses with an unimpressed expression. “Yeah, I don’t think they’ll hold out for much longer. They’re slowing down—all I know, they’ll drop dead soon.” She patted the horse she was riding briefly, almost fondly, but her next words tossed that concept into an abyss. “Too bad.”

Travelling with Ammon was fun…oh yes, very fun. They got along well, something like partners in crime—or whatever they called it these days. She never was bored around him; no matter what her whims commanded her to do, it never went against Ammon as it often did with others. She didn’t think about it too deeply however; to Sirena, everything was because it just…was. She didn’t have to think about the reasons why, or the causes behind the reasons. She accepted things as they were, and accepted change just as readily. Adapting was not a problem for her, and thus it was hard to catch her off guard because she dealt with surprises so easily.

Her outlook on their little ‘mission’ was this: They would hang around court…and if she felt like it, maybe they would do as they had been told and kill the princeling. Maybe.

Jans had submitted to the Bastard King, but that did not mean that she had to. She was like the wind; unable to be caught, unable to be made still until it did so itself. She did not like being ordered around, and she was not about to get into the habit of it anytime soon.

“Let’s face it, he just sent you because he thinks you’re trouble and hopes you’re killed,” she said easily with a small shrug of her shoulders. “And I just tagged along because it seemed fun.” It was most likely true; she never failed to notice the small things that might go on in a leader’s mind. But she was confident—sure that they would be well and alive at the end of this. They were of the Bloody Mummers—the Bastard King was a fool to think that this might conveniently kill off any of them.

“Say, you think they’ll believe us when we say the Winslers tortured us?” she laughed, pressing onwards alongside him. “Or when we say we were that one-eyed brat’s servants?” In order to be allowed to stay about court, they would have to have a good excuse about why they should be even allowed in. She was not a bad liar at all—rather, she was quite good at deception, but having to play the part of a beat-up, ragged escapee didn’t exactly take the spot as her number one pick.

Sirena was, however, looking forward to seeing the loot that the palace would have. She was no kleptomaniac, but she did like valuable goods, being the daughter of a looter and all. She would be quite thrilled to find a fetching jeweled dagger or something of the sort to join her little collection. She was sure that they wouldn’t miss it anyways. She smirked, tapping the blade of Loreley as they continued to ride. Oh, this would be fun.

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;; Nasrin Cavendish ;;

Nasrin looked her father in the eye, her demeanor cool. The older man held her gaze but looked away to some insignificant detail on his wall in a couple of moments. “I want to see my Mother,” Nasrin said simply, her eyes glinting a feral silver. “You said you would care for her in exchange for me coming to court and being your heir. With the war, it’s dangerous for her. I want her in a safer place.”

Her father frowned, his jaw clenching at her words. “That woman,” he spat out, as if the words tasted filthy on his tongue. “Is perfectly fine where she is.”

“So you say, protected and sheltered in court!” Nasrin shot back, her voice rising. “I haven’t seen her in nine years! Not one since the day you ripped me away from home! Not even one letter!”

“Ripped?! You foolish piece of dirt, do you know what I have done for you? I gave you everything! I clothed you and dressed you in the best of things!” he shouted, a vein throbbing in his temple. “I do all that for you, and you aren’t thankful for a thing!”

Nasrin’s hands curled into fists at her side, clutching at the skirt of her dress. “I never asked for anything,” she hissed, eyes overflowing with hatred and spite. “I never asked for the dresses, the sweets. All I wanted, all I wanted was to stay where I had been! I never asked for any of this!” The blow came so fast she didn’t even see it coming. Her neck snapped to one side, her cheek burning white hot—and this time it wasn’t because she was blushing. Nasrin stubbornly did not make a sound as she pressed a hand to her skin that was starting to swell, her eyes as cold as midwinter as she regarded her father who had just struck her.

“You’ll learn to shut your mouth, you ungrateful bitch!” Raged her father, face scarlet with fury.

“I hate you.” She replied frostily, turning her back on her father and striding to the door. “I’m leaving.”

Her father took one threatening step towards her. “Don’t you dare think of going back to that filthy place to look for that whore.”

Nasrin held her chin up like how she had been taught to, her eyes steel, her smile frigid. “Watch me,” she nearly smirked. With that, she shut the door and left without waiting for him to reply. She strode down the corridors, ignoring the looks she was getting with the swelling, red cheek. She would find her mother, no matter what. She would find her and they would never have to be separated again.

Mother, wait for me.

Snippet #1500747

located in Westeros, a part of A Song of Ice and Fire, one of the many universes on RPG.

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