Post #1536076 in Carpe Diem: Seize the Day, a roleplay on RPG

Delshad Adaire

Delshad prodded at his temples, holding back a sigh that was bound to find its way out sooner or later. Telling his father that the High Priestess was gone was more painful than he had expected—and stressing too. His father, though ill, had stubbornly pretended he wasn’t when he entered the room, trying to seem strong in front of his only child. But when he had told him the news, something seemed to crumble in his eyes and suddenly his father seemed to have aged. “We will head up to the temple with you on the morrow,” he had said to him. “Now leave me, I am tired.”

He had been so…surprised. Never in his life had he heard his father say or even imply that he was tired. He guessed that things really were changing; his father was getting old and soon, soon he would have to shoulder the burden of Asshai on his own. His mother had tried to persuade his father not to go—that he needed to rest, but Delshad and Lady Adaire both knew there was no swaying the stern man when he had made up his mind. His mother folded her hands into her lap and held her tongue, but he could see that she was worried. He wasn’t sure just how sick his father was—and he wasn’t sure if even his mother knew. His father had a tendency to hide all of his weaknesses.

He succumbed to the sigh, letting it out and opening his leather book. After some thought he placed the quill to the paper and began to write, his brows furrowed and jaw tense. He wrote in his little book every day, and not just once a day either. He wrote things both important and inferior, as if to record events to look back upon when he needed to. Today was not a very fortunate day, he thought.

He looked up at the sound of a knock at the door of his study, and a well-dressed maid curtsied at the entrance. “My apologies for my interruption, milord, but Lady Darya has requested your presence.” He felt the beginnings of a smile twitch at his lip, mainly because he could see the little girl’s form ‘hiding’ behind the maid.

“Tell her that I cannot keep my promises tonight. I am busy,” he said with mock severity, trying to keep his face straight. At those words a wail erupted from behind the maid, and Darya showed herself, dressed in her nightgown and her hair braided.

“But you promised!” she cried, her lower lip pushed forward in a pout. She rushed into the study, trying to clamber into his chair as if she had a mind to drag him there. Delshad couldn’t hold back and he grinned, chuckling as he lifted her into the air and giving her a little spin.

“My my, I guess I can’t say no to you, little princess,” he said, pretending to be reluctant. “Come, let’s away.” Darya smiled widely back at him, clinging to his neck with her arms. He carried her out of the room and down the corridors, taking her to the room furnished for Darya to sleep in when she stayed at their estate. Since her mother was not much of a guardian and her father very busy, Darya stayed with Lyra most of the time. However she always went back to her home to visit her father and brother, as it was proper. He was sure it didn’t matter where she went; she was spoiled silly in both households. One could not help but love the small, demanding girl. Delshad watched quietly as she fell asleep, reading the book in his hands in a gentle tone. She was a precious child—some part of him wished that if he ever had a daughter, she would be like Darya.

--

Delshad felt as if something heavy landed deep in his stomach when he heard the word ‘war’ coming from Alcides. He had known it would happen, but to hear it with such certainty—it was a hard blow to take. He could see that it was the same with his parents; his mother was slightly pale, his father’s mouth set in a grim line. He looked at Lyanna, and then to the priestess Padme, and last to Alcides. “What would you advise?” he asked, his voice heavy despite his attempt to make it sound determined. They could not lose Asshai—they could not. But how would they be able to fare in a war?

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Shirin Lasyar

Shirin watched almost anxiously as he pondered her position in the household, half-relieved that he was finally going to give her instructions and half-nervous for the same reason. When he finally settled on the position of a maid, something relaxed inside of her, though one part of her dwelt on the old lady’s fate. Had she really been stealing, or had it been some unfortunate hag that had been blamed for something else? Things like that happened all the time the higher the nobility became, and she would be serving in what was now the second most powerful house in Asshai. With the marriage of Lady Lyanna to the heir to Asshai, they had certainly risen high.

How would she fare in such a place? Shirin wasn’t sure.

She nodded respectfully at his decision; being a maid didn’t seem bad. Yes, it would most likely be more cleaning and serving than dancing, but she would be in a proper frock (something she had been unable to wear in a very long time). Shirin wondered if she would still be allowed to dance as a maid. It had been her job all along, and she enjoyed dancing very much. Hopefully her new owner would not mind too much—and if he did not like it, then she would find some discreet place to dance. It was a part of her that couldn’t be torn away, something that defined her.

She looked down at the fine dress she was wearing, the pretty color the cloth held. She decided that she liked the color ‘blue.’ It was the color of the open sky and the vast waters—and that meant freedom. So Shirin decided she liked the color blue; the color of freedom.

Though ‘freedom’ was a thing she longed for, she was sure that if she ever got it, she wouldn’t know how to handle it. Already she was uncomfortable without being given instructions—she could only imagine if all of a sudden she had to make all the decisions. She would be lost at all the opportunities and things she could do. It wasn’t as if she agreed all the time with decisions others made for her, but one either learned to deal with it or were beaten into submission. What was freedom like? She didn’t know. She supposed it would be this…wideness. What would it be like to speak your mind without having to worry about offending an important person and being punished? She wasn’t sure of that either.

The dance ended and she was nearly disappointed; waltzing was rather entertaining as well. It was almost nostalgic, as if she had done it before—but that wasn’t a plausible idea. She had only been taught to belly dance, she knew that.

Shirin caught the look given to Eskandir by Lord Adaire as well, but she pretended she had not seen it, blinking apprehensively up at the dark haired young man as he mentioned that they would be leaving. Shirin blinked; leaving so early at a party was rare—the revels were designated to go on for a long while from now. Then she recalled the way Lady Adaire had looked and assumed that they were leaving because she was ill.

He then added that any of the things she cared about would be sent in the morning, so she didn’t have to worry. But…cherished things? She didn’t have anything like that. The only thing she had that was particularly important was the simple necklace she wore all the time. It had been a pendant originally, but now it was shorter on her body. Indeed—it had been on her when she had been kidnapped, the one thing she had. But it was nothing special; the pendant was a small charm that was not particularly unique in shape or design. It was in the shape of a water lily, made of a pretty rose gold.

The young noble began to walk away, but then glanced over his shoulder expectantly. Shirin quickly followed after him, not much different from a bumbling duckling tottering after its mother. He was her master now, and she was at his leisure and command. She felt her former master’s hard gaze on her back, but she did not look back or pay him a mind, focusing on following Eskandir, a respectful three steps behind him.

She wasn’t sure what sort of a master he would be, but for a moment she felt relief as she walked away from the ballroom she would have danced her life away in had he never found her.

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Deimos Tamurlayn

He had expected her to fight or scream, but instead she squirmed in his grasp and almost seemed to be holding back giggles. His eyebrows went up questioningly; what had the fear driven her mad? However something in him grew infuriated when she mentioned she had no idea who he was—how dare she not know! She was like every other person in his childhood who never knew his name and only knew him as ‘Thanatos’ little brother.’

How he had strived to pass that scoundrel. He had despised every bit of that man, every single particle of him. And so when he had killed him, every single reminder of him went; his belongings, his servants, his friends, his lovers, his children. All done without the tiniest shred of remorse, ruthless as if his heart was made of stone. It probably was.

As the youngest, no one depended on him, expected anything from him. But he had showed them that he had a name, oh yes; he was somebody that was stronger, more powerful than his brother, and everyone would know it. Everyone, from the lowest of street urchins to the highest of kings. They would fear him and know him. And yet, even when his brother was murdered and rotting, gone from this world at his own hands, his curse was not gone yet. He would always end up living in that damn man’s shadow unless he was known everywhere.

“And what a silly priestess you are, to not know from who you are running from,” he retorted in dark tones. “I am Deimos Tamurlayn, ruler of Quarth, and soon to be ruler of all of Essos.” His eyes glittered madly at the thought of being the ultimate ruler; the supreme and unchallenged leader of all.

A cold smile spread on his mouth and he stared her down as if she was an ant under the shadow of his boot. She seemed to be at a loss for a reason he had hunted her down, but soon enough the realization came upon her. “My my, I see that the temples teach common sense as well as magic tricks,” he said to her sardonically. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, priestess.” A Shade was a powerful weapon, one that could be birthed by a priestess alone—and he intended to have that up his sleeve.

He scowled as she leant against him as if she did not mind so much and grasped her by the arm. He yanked her away from himself, almost as if he had intentions to toss her off the cliff and watch her hit the water below. He was not a giver of comfort, and he would have her know that well. He shoved her towards a group of his men, eyes steely and unfeeling. “Get her on a horse. We can’t have her collapsing.” He had had no intention of letting her become sickly when he needed to use her as much as he could. He did not mistreat his tools…too much, that was. A tool became useless once they broke, and once they broke they needed to be disposed of. Deimos did not care what happened to them after completing what he demanded of them, but if any of them could no longer function before the job was done, he had to go through the trouble of finding a replacement—and he had no patience to just re-obtain what he had just acquired.

He turned and one of the men handed him his own stallion, large and powerful. He leapt easily into the saddle, grasping the reins. They had a while to ride, and he wanted to get back as fast as he could. The ride would not be leisurely or peaceful; a hard, merciless way of travel without many stops. His drive was to get back to his domain and think of more ways to stretch out and seize all that was around him to make it his own.

The people called him the Seizer, taker of lands and lives. That was certainly true. Though none would ever call him the ‘Seizer’ to his face, he did not mind the title. He secretly thought it quite a handsome title.

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Loreley Rhys

“No, really—it is like talking to a wall,” she insisted lightly, speaking of the companions she was offered whenever she wanted to stroll down a bloody hallway. What, were they afraid that shed topple over and get a little bruise? Tch. Idiots. Her annoyance towards them was mostly made up of the fact that they were dumb young girls, nagging old hags, or pompous old men. That was no fun at all. Now, if her escort had been some attractive young bloke, perhaps she wouldn’t complain as much. She kept her complaints to herself when she was around ‘family,’ but they were very well in existence.

Loreley wasn’t used to being unable to go places as she pleased. After all, all the while she was growing up her family had moved about as their interest called—and this restriction was something new altogether. She had been on her own for three years now, impersonating all sorts of people, but this was the first time she had been able to take the place of someone particularly important. Sure, she was just the daughter, but she was still the daughter of the Sealord.

She looked up, a trace of wariness in her mind when he asked her if her dress was bothering her. Perhaps he was more perceptive than she had thought him to be. A proper student of the Faceless Men’s teachings would have thought to be more careful around one who knew the person well, but Loreley thought most oppositely. Well, the more he knew about Aileen, the more she could mess with his mind when she did things she would have never done. Oh, things only got better! “Yes, I think some of the stitches one the inside have come undone,” she said casually. “Perhaps I should have worn another dress…”

She glanced into the mirror mounted on her wall, taking the image of the girl in the glass. That was Aileen, though her body was more toned than a noble girl’s should have been. That had been the best she had been able to do with such short notice—or perhaps it had been a shred of vanity inside her. She knew she had a beautifully shaped body and a full chest; maybe she didn’t want to add baby fat and a smaller chest to herself. Maybe. She mentally shrugged. Aileen was not done growing yet—or, at least, she wouldn’t be, if she was still alive. Alas, that lass was somewhere in the vast waters surrounding Braavos; it had been the quickest way to dispose of her corpse.

Her eyes lit up as he stood and stretched, asking her if there was somewhere in particular she wanted to go. “You’ll spend the day with me?” she asked, a mischievous glint that was disguised to look like simple happiness in her eyes. But then again, she was happy too—finally, out of this damned room! She was not used to being so pampered—her muscles itched to move, to prove their strength. She approached the older man, as if in thought. “I’d like to do something active,” she mused, poking at his chest. “It’s too hot for riding. How about a swim?” she smiled, one corner of her lips tweaking in a teasing smile; Loreley’s smile, not Aileen’s. She had too much fun being herself to completely give herself over to some noble girl would couldn’t even handle a kitchen knife. “Oh, let’s. Let’s go swimming, say you will.” She said, switching back to a sweet pleading tone of a certain younger sister. “We haven’t gone swimming together in a long time, with the illness and all. Don’t say no…!” Loreley tilted her back at fixed him with a charming stare that would have even had a rock succumbing to her will.

Actually, they had never gone swimming together, Crevan and Loreley. But there was no harm in letting him believe that she was his goodly younger sister, one who just wanted to spend more time with him—after all, she had her face, had her looks. However Loreley knew that in time she would see her own face in the mirror once again. Little by little, Aileen’s face disappeared to reveal hers in such a slow process that by the time it was over no one would notice. It was quite genius, she had to say—and she knew her parents would have approved of the thought. She figured they were having the time of their lives (as they always were), traveling as they pleased, something that made her want to grin. They would never mature, it seemed—but they were her beloved parents.

And she was their darling Loreley; no one else’s. No man could have her for who she was, no, they had to have her for who she was pretending to be.

Snippet #1536076

located in Essos - Asshai, a part of Carpe Diem: Seize the Day, one of the many universes on RPG.

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