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Larkyn De Hugh

Blood is never the answer . . .

0 · 316 views · located in Isles of Penumbria

a character in “Forth Rode the King”, as played by DuBois_Scarlett

Description

Image

Image

Name:
Larkyn De Hugh


Age:
Eighteen


Occupation:
Ward to the Lord of the Lowlands


Description:
At eighteen Lark De Hugh has fully come into her beauty yet it is often hidden by a netted veil. With the gray/violet eyes attributed to the De Hugh's and dark brown hair that is often braided and milky white skin that is never seen concealed beneath full length clothes; a measure the young woman had to take since coming into womanhood and often being the target of men. Not one for finery, Lark is understated in all manners but not easily disregarded.


Biography:
Larkyn De Hugh is Lady Rondalion's younger cousin. One of the few blood relatives Isodell has after the bloody war between the De Hugh's and FitzWarren's for over a century. The daughter of Wrick De Hugh's younger brother, Lark grew up with Isodell until Isodell was married off. However, Lark has not set eyes on her cousin for eight long years and once when they were close as sisters now she is not so sure . . .

Currently, Lark De Hugh resides at Halen Hall, the Fortress Keep of the De Hugh Family for centuries; located near the south edge of The Tears; close to the Central Forest and only a few leagues from Langsmerth.


Personality:
Lark De Hugh is the complete and utter opposite of her cousin sister Isodell. Above all Lark cherishes the freedom her current way of life allows her. Living with her two elderly widowed aunts, Lark manages Halen Hall. The embodiment of kind, caring and compassionate Larkyn hates war, strife and anything involving blood shed and the death and suffering of innocents. However, there is sharper side to Lark. If threatened she will not simply taking it lying down. Though not confrontational, Lark would rather use her intelligence to find solutions to problems.

So begins...

Larkyn De Hugh's Story

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Larkyn De Hugh



β€œThis is most wonderful news!” Beamed Ellsa.

β€œMost wonderful indeed!” Seconded Claretta joyously.

The slight shrouded figure sat on sable fur in front of the blazing hearth stiffened. Her breath halting for a long moment before it began coming in short sharp rasps. No! It could not be! She must have heard wrong . . .

β€œOh Larkyn my dearest! The Maker's grace will make you a most joyous bride!” Added Aunt Ellsa.

Lark surged to her feet as shock rocketed through her being. Grabbing the piece of parchment with an audible scrunching of paper, her gray violet eyes dashed from left to right, scanning the writing through the dark netted veil that hid her pretty features from the world.

β€œNo!” She whispered furiously, chest heaving as the parchment crumpled within her tight grasp. β€œNo! The Maker will not make me a joyous bride!” Larkyn cried as she swept out of the chamber in a fury of dark velvet and lace.

β€œLarkyn!”

β€œDearest?”

The confused and disturbed voices of her aunts deaf to her ears under the sound of her own pounding heart. How could Isodell do this to her?! Larkyn cursed as she entered the Library of Halen Hall. Her sanctuary. But it was not peace she was seeking here today.

Yanking the draw of a desk open carelessly, Larkyn pulled out a piece of foolscap. Dipping her quill in ink she began writing furiously. The scrapping of the nib on the parchment almost vicious.

How could Isodell ask this of her? No. Not ask. Demand! Larkyn's ire ignited to uncontrollable heights. She would not do it! Isodell could not make her. She refused!

How happy she had been, Larkyn mused morosely, when the letter had arrived from Isodell after so very long. How she longed to hear from her cousin sister. She had not been able to contain her excitement as she plopped herself down in front of the fire at her two aunts feet and listened as they read the missive out loud.

And how all that excitation had quickly been altered to dread and her stomach had churned as each cold word had been read.

Sanding the ink, Lark quickly stamped the letter closed with the De Hugh seal and ran out of the library down to the great dinning hall. She must catch that messenger before he departed.

β€œMistress Larkyn?” The Knight she barreled into in her haste questioned quizzically of the usually composed young lady.

β€œThe Messenger?” Lark wheezed, trying to catch her breath. β€œHe-He was here I believe. The one that came from Langsmerth from my Lady cousin. Is he-”

β€œYou've just missed him, Mistress Lark.” The De Hugh Knight informed her, concern marring his sturdy face. β€œYou maybe able to catch him still . . . But, is everything alright?”

β€œQuite.” Lark replied in a much steady tone now. β€œOr at least it will be.” She added as she turned and made haste to catch the Courier, leaving the Knight to his confusion.

She must catch him! This could not be delayed. As far as Larkyn was concerned it might as well have been a matter of life or death. It was her life that hung in the balance!

β€œHalt!” She shouted as she sprinted into the outer Keep of Halen Hall. No doubt she had ran at least half a league all the way down here.

The Messenger boy was just about to mount his steed when an almost ghostly apparition stopped him. A well endowed woman but he could not see a single bit of her except her fair hands. The rest of her was draped in a wealth of dark velvet and lace.

Huffing and puffing she stopped before him. All the eyes of the Knights, peasants and passing travelers standing in the Keep riveted on the mysterious woman.

β€œGive this to your Mistress.” She ordered in a steely tone shoving a sealed note into his chest and just as quickly as she had come she whipped around and returned whence she had come . . .