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Clara Stark

"Jon...Please...be alright...."

0 · 2,573 views · located in The North

a character in “The Battle of Fire and Ice.”, as played by MaliceInWonderland

Description

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Name: Clara Stark-

Age:17

Appearance: Clara is a beautiful, amber eyed girl, with long midnight black hair, olive skin, and a developing woman's figure.

Build: Standing at about 5'2, she is slim, with developing curves

Personality: :
Clara is a sweet, good natured girl with a good heart and a strong spirit, in which has been hidden due to fear and self doubt. She believes herself weak but is much stronger then she gives herself credit for. She loves to love but is constantly finding herself hating more and more people. She can be naive and gullible when it comes to things, she wants to believe in something bigger then herself.

Where they live:
Formerly White Castle Keep, but now aboard the Harbinger.

What/ who they are:
She once was the third born Lady to White Castle, and first cousin to The Starks of Winterfell.

History:
Clara Stark was born third to the Starks of White Castle Keep. She was raised to be the perfect wife, as all her family wanted was to get rid of her as quickly as possible, they didn't really care to whom so long as it benefited them some way. As soon as she turned 16, she was betrothed to a man, a count from an allied nation. He was a brutish, fat, balding man who treated her like a glorified concubine, rather then a potential Countess. She was always treated as if she weren't meant to exist, so she mostly kept to herself. She did have but one family member that treated her well, Jon Stark, to whom had devised plan for take her away before the wedding, get her some place safe.
It was the day she was meant to leave when Winterfelll came under attack.


Skills:
Ways of the Court
Public Speaking .
Other:

So begins...

Clara Stark's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Dae, The Gyspy Character Portrait: Jack, The Streetrat Character Portrait: Jon Stark

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Hours earlier...

She was leaving.
Clara Stark was leaving White Harbor, never to return.
She’d be safe and away from that horrible wretch of a man, that was to be her husband. As glad as she would be to be gone she couldn’t help but feel fear in the pit of her stomach. What would mother and father think when they came to fetch her for the rehearsal dinner only to find her room empty of her things? Would they worry? Clara snorted unladylike, her fear gone. They wouldn’t worry, they’d be angry, angry that there little mistake was gone and her dowry would be null and void. Her parents never cared. Not for her, they wanted a boy. Vincent was hardly one to rule because of his seemingly unwavering need to gamble and woo woman. They tried and got Julia. She’d marry a prince alright, they had no fear of that. She’d marry an nobleman so long as she didn’t have to lift a finger. they tried again and gotten Clara. Clara, She had a personality, and wanted more A life outside of this place and that was too much for her parents. That’s why her marriage to Count Blackwood was rushed. He hardly courted her. One moment, she was being presented to him, the next she was engaged. Imagine her surprise, coming home from visiting her cousin in Winterfell only to find that she’d been engaged three days before her arrival.
“What do you mean I am engaged to be married?!” She'd exclaimed when her parents told her. Her mother, Victoria Stark, beamed as if Clara actually wanted. Truthfully, Clara would rather swallow glass and regurgitated it then to be his wife. “Yes, Count Blackwood, paid your dowery in full!” She cheered with a clap. “He simply could not wait to have you as his, Clara.” Her father, Edwin Stark said sternly. He was the youngest of the Stark Line, he had two brothers, Eddard and Edmond Stark. Edmond the Eldest and the current King of the North, and Eddard the middle son, and the one who would be next in line had Edmond not bore sons, which he had. Three, just like his father before him. Brandon, Edrick, Jon, and a girl, Mira. A small tug came at the age of her lips at the thought of her sweet Jon Stark quite possibly, the only person in the world, who cared as much about her as she does about him. He was her best friend, the brother she’d always wanted and in this case, desperately needed. Her father wanted to be King but since he was born late, he couldn’t. He’d been trying every way he put himself in a position to make himself as rich as any king, even at the cost of Clara’s happiest, like marrying her off to a man twice her age and that she barely knew.

Clara shoved as much as she could into her knapsack; clothing, boots, a few hair ornaments and a small notebook filled with songs she’d written, it was like a personal log of all of her feelings in song form. Only Jon knew about this book, and even his hasn't heard any of the songs within. Clara loved to sing, it was the one thing she was taught to do that didn’t want to make her run her head into a wall, well that and cooking. Her mother made her learn anything and everything she felt would make her the perfect wife, she could cook, clean, sew and care for children. “If you can catch a man’s ear, then you can capture his attention.” Her mother had told her. Clara found that not to be true. The last thing any man wanted to do was to listen to a girl, no more than 17 winters old, sing. Except Jon. He seemed not to mind listening to her sing, talk, anything she wanted. Jon was a calm sort of man, if he could recline, with his dire wolf at his side, he would, but Clara knew he’d fight if he have to. Once, after she official met her soon to be husband, Blackwood, they’d been at a party held at the keep where she grew up, to celebrate the engagement, Clara was far from pleased and didn’t bother to hide it, she told her parents she didn’t want to marry him. He was cold, and couldn't possibly love her but she was a coin to them and she decided she’d make this as pleasurable as she could for herself. So she wondered, out loud and too his face, how his hair grew long only in the back and thin in the front. Count Blackwood had laughed at the insult, but then pulled her to the side and slapped her hard about the face, bringing tears to her eyes and ringing to her ears. “Don’t make me do that again, I will not have my bride bruised on my wedding day, but don’t mistake this as an act of mercy, you will pay for that, girl.”
Clara practically ran to Jon, crying. Jon had then took it upon himself to drive his fist into Count Blackwood’s face for his actions. Of course, Jon was the one to get in trouble. Had he not been a Duke, he would have been exiled from the Keep.
There were a few more exchanges like that, but the last one, where Count Blackwood had grabbed her by the face, squeezed her jaw so tight her face had bruised, he told her that she’d be his and once she was, to get used to being on her back or on her knees. Clara told Jon that she was not going to marry him. She’d take her own life before she let him have her and for whatever reason, Jon believed that she would. So he devised a plan, to sneak her out of the city and that’s where she was going now. The wedding was tomorrow but she was going to be gone well before then.
She slipped outside, relatively unnoticed, as most everyone was busying themselves with the wedding preparations and she honestly felt bad about that, at least for the servants. Most of them hated everyone in the Keep, except her. She treated them like people and not furniture that cleaned up. They saw her as she left and pretended that they didn’t see the “Small Lady” a sweet nickname they had for her, sneak out into the night. She’d said her goodbyes to them already. She’d missed them at least.
The cold Northern air caused a shiver up her spine as she threw up the hood of her riding cloak. She took a deep breath, looking back at the Keep that’d been her home and turned away with a huff. “ Good Riddance.” She said and disappeared into the woods.


Meanwhile...
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Dae looked down from her branch as Jack reclined against the shaded tree, biting into an apple as if it was the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. The sad truth is, it probably was the only fruit he’s ever tasted. She took a deep breath as she lay her head against the tree. He was so big now, so strong and handsome, soon to be a man. He was a frail thin little thing when she found him that day, laying on the ground, beaten and broken, discarded like garbage. Looking at him now, deep grey eyes, , long black hair and a handsome chiseled face, he hardly looked like a boy of 15 winters and looked nothing like the child he’d been when she found him. Only thing that remained was the scars on his skin to which he hide most of the time, the ones that marked him as a child fighter, from another land, a land of savage men who thought young children locked in a battle to the death was sufficient sport. She sighed. She wanted to make life good for him but what was she to do? They were street rats...and she worried about what that did to him.
“Oy, Stop it!” He said, his native accent still lingering in his voice, despite how long he’d been away. Dae looked down to see him looking up at her. His almond eyes narrowed. “Stop, you think too loud.” He said crossing his arms. Dae smiled down at him. “What was I t’inking about?” She asked her own accent lightening her words. “ Me.” He said with a frown. Dae rolled her eyes playfully, swung her long legs over the branch and let herself drop from the tree and stand before him. He was almost taller than her now, he was always so small. “ You t’ink every girl dz’at lays eyes upon you, t’inks about you.” She said with a smile, it was forced and she knew he knew it. “While that’s true, you do not fall under that category, you are not a girl, you’re my sister.” He said with an arch of his brow. Dae pet his cheek. “ I’ll try not to take offense.” She said with a chuckle. He was clearly not her brother, his pale skin and bone straight hair, a stark contrast to her warm brown skin, and wild curly mane. Despite this, he seemed to know just what she was thinking...like they were actually family. He touched her hand. “ Dae, don’t worry about me, I like it here.” He said and winked at her. She could only smile. “ That’s what worries me.” She said warmly and Jack shook his head and was about to speak but at the same time, they both seemed to catch the scent of fire. “Do you smell dz’at?” She asked as she looked out, Winterfell off in the distance. “Aye” he said, following her gaze, and in the same moment, smoke rose up from the city. “Dz’e children!”
“The Kids!” They both exclaimed and without warning they took off in opposite directions. She knew he’d be safe enough. Jack was a capable boy and just as she worried for him, he worried for the many other street children of the North. He’d want to protect them as she protected him. She took a deep breath and ran as fast as her feet could carry her to the sound of chaos. “Be safe, Jack.” She thought to him and it was almost as if she could hear him wish her the same.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Dae, The Gyspy Character Portrait: Jon Stark

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"Grab them!"

Clara ran as fast as her feet could carry her, she could hear the horses behind her, as her and others ran from the invaders.

Where was Jon? Why hadn't he'd been at the rendezvous point at the port? He was supposed to be meeting her there. He was suppose to be with her now. Where his is? Please, Gods, let him be alright.

Right now, she needed to be concerned with herself as they were rounding up people, like cattle. So she ran, hard and fast, thankfully, she used to run a lot, it was something that helped her shed the stress of court life when she was with Jon. All that practice, seemed to come in handy.

She lept up over a fallen log as she made her way into the forest, weaving around trees, dodging arrows that zipped past her head. There were a few others running too and one by one, they fell, succumbing to the arrows.

ZIP!
An Arrow passed by her head, slicing the side of her face and lodging into the tree in front of her. The pain slowed her run and caused her to stumble to her hands and feet but she recovered, dirt, snow and leaves clinging to her palms as she clamored to her feet.
Then suddenly, pain erupted from her calf, causing her to hit the ground in a heap. Groaning and whimpering, she reached down, grabbing at her leg, searching for the arrow that stuck in her calf. Her leg was bleeding profusely, but fear overcame any pain, as she yanked the arrow out, biting down hard. Ribbons of blood spun off of the arrow as she tossed it aside, and pulled herself to her feet. She limped feebly, trying to get away but it was for naught as the horsemen ran up and on her.
She took a deep breath and faced the men as they surrounded her, ropes wrapped around her body tightly, knocking her to the ground again. She struggled against the bindings. “This one’s hurt.” One of them said, she couldn’t tell which one was speaking as they wore gear over their faces. “Take her anyway.” Said another. “She’s a pretty one...” said another and Clara’s back stiffened as she eyed them all. She was scared, very scared but she would not let them hurt her. She’s take her own life before she let that happen. ”Fear cuts deeper then swords.” Jon’s words to her echoed in her mind.
“Don’t bother, put her with the others.” Said the first one and soon she was being pulled to her feet, her leg burning with pain, she struggled to stand, and as she was finding her footing, her hands were being bound by the wrists. She looked up at the man binding her hands, glaring daggers at him.
She could see his eyes beneath his mask.
“If you behave, I’ll make sure that you come with me.” He whispered and Clara’s amber eyes burned with tears and fury.
“ Go to hell.” She spat and he snickered before walking away, mounting his horse and yanked her forward. She groaned against the pain and walked to Gods only knew where.
”Jon, Wherever you are, please, please, be alright.”



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Dae couldn’t wait for Jack, it was time and the marks on her legs were burning, telling her it was time. She took a deep breath. “Dammit all.” She spat as she ran into the forest. She was almost near her destination when she heard arrows flying. She stopped, pressing her back against a tree. Invaders, as if the royals weren’t bad enough, now they had this problem. They were killing most everyone. She peeked from behind a tree, to see a pale man, looking to face off with the invaders, an arrow in his back. Her legs burned and if she didn’t hurry, they were give away her position.
That man, he was either very brave or very stupid, either way, he needed help.
She could feel the rune at the bottom of her ankle began to burn hotter then the others. It was all she had not to help him.
“I’m sorry...” She whispered to the young man to whom she felt she wouldn’t see alive again. Tears burning behind her eyes and ran off toward deeper into the woods toward the creek, the marks on her legs begin to glow beneath her boots...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark

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It wasn’t long before The Harbinger reached the shores of the North. It was cold and smelled like fire. She’d been to the North plenty of times before, she had a contact here and the deal was, he wouldn’t try to kill her if she didn’t do any harm to Northerners.
She told them then, she wouldn’t make any promises.
For now those, she was curious, The North seemed to be up in flames and a new flag was flying, a burning heart. This must be a woman, she thought as the gangplank was lower and she stepped off the ship. She was dressed in full battle regalia, her long coat billowing around her legs, that were covered with slack that were neatly tucked into long black boots, a crimson red corset around her slim waist, a cotton bell sleeved top hugging her bosom, a large belt hung around her waist, that held her flintlock and cutlass and top her head a large tri cornered hat, black with red stitching that matched her coat and boots.
The Crimson Lady had entered the North.
At her side was her first mate, William Casey, a fair haired giant, to whom towered over her by atleast a foot, the Captain herself was about 6 feet herself.
“Captain?” said Casey.
“Hm?”
“What are we doing here?” He asked and Robyn’s face was expressionless. “It seems I’ve piqued the interest of a conqueror by the name of Melissande. She wishes to speak to me.”
“She?”
“Indeed.”

Robyn made her way to the keep in Winterfell. She watched as soon to be slaves were ushered in by ropes and lined against a wall. They all looked terrified...all except one. She looked absolutely peeved. She was small this one, Robyn could see clear over the top of her head, midnight curls spun down her face, her skin was a warm olive, but it was her eyes that caught Robyn’s attention. Despite the fear in those amber orbs, there was a hint of defiance.Something that told Robyn that this girl was scared but she didn’t seemed to be ready to lay down and take it. Robyn chuckled to herself and walked on to meet this Melissande.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark

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Clara stood in line with the other slaves, most of them knew she wasn't one of them but most of them liked her and wouldn't want her dead so they kept her heritage to themselves. Not that she all but gave herself away by the way she looked the invaders in the eyes as they dragged her along, her calf burned with pain but her rage burned hotter. This was Jon's home, her own personal safe haven, and they defiled it with their presence. Luckily, no one really paid attention to the tiny angry girl.

All except one, the man from the woods. He eyed her like a hawk eying a mouse. Ready to pounce soon as the time was right.

Clara looked up to see a woman, clad in red and black, like something out of a penny dreadful, her eyes found her and Clara's very soul shivered. She didn't know who that woman was, and gods be good if she never found out.

Soon, the slaves were divvied up and Clara stood with a handful of girls. The men looked them over one by one, like their were choosing the best cattle. The man from the woods stopped on her. “This one is mine.” He said and grabbed her by the wrist. She held her ground. “Don't make this hard on yourself, girl.” He said and gripped harder on her and yanked her forward. If her calf didn't hurt so bad....

He then took her by the elbow and half dragged her to a tent a little ways away from the Keep just in front of the clearing in the woods. She knew what was coming, and she braced herself mentally.

He tossed her inside and she stumbled to the ground. He undid her bounds and for a moment, she thought he might let her go. She got to her feet, her eyes wide as she looked at the man.

“What?” She asked impatiently.
“I'm deciding..” He grinned and Clara's brow twitched into a worried frown but then it faced into an angry one. “I'll make it for you.” She said and darted forward, knocking into him, taking him by surprise but he managed to recover quickly enough that he snatched her back, forcing her to the ground. Her head spun from the impact. “See, I was actually going to be gentle, but you forced my hand.” He said and tore are her dress, splitting the material up her thigh. Clara slammed her hands down on his head but he ignored her battering and kept ripping the material, her shoulders were bare, her thighs were exposed but all she was worried about was keeping him from his goal. She fought and fought, kicked and squirming underneath him. At once, she threw her head forward, her forehead slamming into the bridge of his nose, shattering the bone. The man's head tipped backward and Clara clamored to her feet, gathered up the shreds of her clothing and ran out of the tent, she ran toward the forest, but stopped as an arrow zipped by her head. She froze. Did it hit her? She examined herself to find that now, she was not hit, so she turned, and saw the man an arrow stuck in his chest and it pinned him to a tree. Clara looked into the forest but saw nothing, not sign of life what's so ever. It couldn't have been meant for her. She approached the man, he was still alive. The arrow keeping him from bleeding out immediately. “Wh-what?” He stammered. “I'm deciding...” She said and her eyes darkening. She didn't like death, blood made her queasy but this man...he deserved this. She reached for the arrow. “Don't touch it!” He gasped. “I was going to leave it...” She said, her amber eyes finding his, glaring like the wolf her family praised. “But you forced my hand.” she said and pulled the arrow from the man's chest.

Image“You, girl.”She looked up to see the woman from before, her dark eyes alight with amusement. She'd seen the entire thing, Clara just knew it.“ You're coming with me.” She said and Clara stiffened. Something about this woman, froze her feet. “No.” She said. And the woman, sighed impatiently. “You want them to see that you killed one of their men, or do you wish to for me to tell them that you are highborn, so they can kill you like the others.” She said. Clara's heart kicked against her chest.“I'm not gonna hurt you, girl, I'm actually doing you quite the favor. I'm Captain, Robyn Sheva, What's your name?” she asked
“Clara...” She said and despite herself, Clara stepped forward. She knew she'd be safer with the Captain then she would be with the invaders. “I will be no one's body slave” Clara warned as she walked passed the woman, and the woman grinned, a wick wolfish sneer. It reminded her of someone. “Good, You'll be right at home. Clara”
Clara looked back, feeling eyes on the back of her neck. Someone was watching her...someone saved her. She clutched the arrow in her hands as the woman walked behind her.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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Oliver lowered his bow after his arrow found it's mark. He didn't kill him, not right away. The arrow would stake him to the tree, he'd die slow and he'd die painfully. The only thing that would make it quick would be when someone found him, no doubt half frozen alive. When they pulled the arrow out he'd be dead before he hit the ground. A shot like that Oliver saved for only the worst, and this one was the first. He'd seen him grab the girl from the tree line, he'd watched as he dragged her to the tent. The second he'd laid eyes on the girl with the olive skin and hair of midnight curls he knew he'd have to save her. She was beautiful there was no doubt but it was the look in her eyes that first caught Oliver's attention. The look of rage, of fury, he knew the look well. He'd seen it on himself on more than one occasion, a feeling one only got when all their strength was taken away from them. Back on the island Oliver had never felt weaker, he was starving more than not. Fear was his constant companion and it made him angry. That anger got him through on days when nothing else could and the girl had that same look. She had everything taken away from her, she was made to be weak and she hated it. When that man grabbed her he had to act.

The shot was a long one, easily twice the distance any normal archer would attempt. Oliver Forrester was no normal archer. Yet something astounding happened after he'd pinned the man to the tree. The girl with the midnight curls turned on him, she spoke to him before she ripped the arrow out, allowing him to die at her feet. Oliver couldn't help but smile subtly under his hood, she was a strong one. It was then that someone stepped out from behind the tent that made Oliver's bow hand twitch. Captain Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger, she sauntered around the tent and spoke to the girl, a wolfish grin on her face. The girl clutched his arrow, looking ready to stab the infamous pirate captain and the arrow Oliver trained on her ensured that when it failed the captain wouldn't get a chance to retaliate. Yet to his surprise the girl seemed agree to whatever Sheva was asking of her and turned to walk off with her. Oliver lowered his bow but he couldn't take his eyes off the mysterious woman with the hair made of midnight curls. For a moment she turned and looked back, as if she was seeing him from all that distance away. Oliver froze under her gaze. When she turned and walked off with Captain Sheva Oliver finally allowed himself to breath.

Having the infamous Crimson Lady in The North, now was no coincidence. She must be working with the invaders, or at least she is about to be working with them. He had work to do and if he found out that Captain Sheva went back on their deal, she'd get a visit from The Arrow she would not soon forget.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark

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Clara stood with the Captain as she addressed her crew.
”Pirates.” Clara shook her head at the thought. If invaders weren’t bad enough, she would be taken by pirates. Her eyes rose to the woman beside her. She was beautiful, tall and deadly. Under normal circumstances, Clara would have idolized this woman but right now, all she did was fear her.
“We have been hired to circle the North and keep anyone of leaving and anyone from entering.” She told to crew and they all seemed pretty excited. Clara’s jaw was set tight. They would be killing her people and she’d be powerless to stop them. On the way to the ship, she saw the other slaves, and countless bodies. One of them had been her sister, laying there, naked, covered in blood in heap with other used bodies. Clara’s eyes closed, forcing tears back. She would not cry in front of them though her biggest problem were the men looking at her as if she wear cooked meat, and they were starving. She hadn’t even been able to save goodbye. Gods, why was she so weak?! “This will give us safe port, as well as a great deal of money.” That got the men cheering and the Captain grinned and then turned to look at her. “This here, is Clara. She is mine, you touch her, you die.” She said and Clara blinked and looked at the Captain. There were hushed murmurs. Most seemed confused as to why the Captain wanted this girl. Clara wondered herself.
“Do I make myself clear?” She asked the group and they all murmured yes. The Captian eyed her crew before ushering Clara into her cabin.
Clara stood at the door, what was left of her dress, tied around her as best as it could be, yet she still held it at her chest, her fingers finding the necklace she hadn’t known she was wearing. It was a wooden wolf totem, hanging on a chain. Jon had given it to her when she was small. She remembered the day. She’d been so upset that she couldn’t stay with him. Tears streaming down her face but they stopped immediately when Jon had presented it to her. The white wooden wolf with deep crimson eyes, just like Ghost. A constant reminder that Jon was with her, no matter what.
”Jon, The tears threatened again but she pushed them back. Jon...he was gone too. They said the royal family had been slain, taken completely by surprise. Her heart kicked against her chest as she clutched the necklace.
Image“Come, sit.” Said the Piratess. Clara looked up and saw her gesturing at a bed. Clara stiffened. “No.” She said sternly and the Captian glared at her. “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.” She said and Clara huffed and walked over. She knee she was pressing her luck but she was too grief stricken to care and if she didn’t cry it out, she’d fight it out. She still had the arrow in her hand and she was prepared to use it. Jon couldn’t save her and whoever saved her before, was probably long gone now. She was alone. She sat on the cot and the pirates grabbed her leg causing Clara to wince and recoil. “It’s going to get infected if you don’t let me clean it.” She said and Clara was genuinely surprised. She said nothing as the Captain set to cleaning and then stitching her wound. “Did he hurt you?”
Clara blinked “I’m sorry?”Image
“The red solider, did he hurt you?” she asked again and Clara looked down at herself and understood the question. “Oh...no...I didn’t let him” She said, bitterness a vemon in her words. The pirate, to her surprise, grinned. “Well done.” She said and wrapped a bandage around her leg. “Why are you helping me?” She asked finally and the pirate looked at her for a long time. Something played behind her eyes before it was gone again. “You’re mine, that’s why.” She said and Clara swallowed. “What do you plan to do with me?” She asked nervously and it was the Captain’s turn to blink. “ What?”
“You said I was yours...do you mean to...”
“Pfft...I could have any man I wanted...so no.” She said with a snort and stood up. “ You’ll be cooking for me, cleaning, men are useless in those things.” She said and Clara nodded solemnly. “What about the men...did you mean what you said, you won’t let them hurt me?” Clara asked and then there was a softness in her eyes that made Clara feel oddly...safe. “Yes, I will not let them hurt you. In the kitchen behind the back wall is a room, only I and my first mate knows where it is, you’ll be sleeping in there.” She told her and Clara nodded. She knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet but she did feel a bit better.That faded quickly. “ What if they don’t listen...What if they-“
“Scream.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Scream, all you have to do is scream, They’ll be dead before you know it.” She said and Clara watched the piratess stand up, she loomed over her like a goddess, looked down at her and Clara felt small. “You’re going to kill my countrymen, aren’t you.” She asked her and the Captain chuckled, as if amused by the question. “ Provided they don’t try to leave, if they do, then yes.” She said and Clara swallowed, clutching the arrow. The Captain took noticed and her cool gaze fell into a hard cold one.
“Where did you get that arrow?”
“You didn’t see..?” Clara asked, genuinely confused.
The Captain cocked her head.
“It was in the man that tried to...it hit him.” She said and the Captain groaned impatiently. “ Bloody hell...”she spat and walked toward the door. “Lock this behind me.” She said and Clara did as she was told when the Captain left. She then looked back at the Captain’s quarters, took a seat back on the cot and her fingers brushed against the feathers at the end of the arrow. She sighed heavily.
What now?
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Robyn found Casey quickly. “We have a problem.” She said to him and Casey frowned. “What sort of problem, Captain?”
“The green kind.”
Casey rubbed his hands down his face. “You think he knows.”
“If he doesn’t already, he will soon enough.”
“You think you can take him,”
“Of course I do but with the girl here, I can’t afford the fire fight.”
Casey looked at her then. Casey was her oldest friend, and possibly the only person in the world she trusted. He knew something was up. “Yes, About that girl?” He asked and Robyn stopped him there. “Don’t.”
“I won’t but you know what I’m going to say?”
Robyn glared daggers at him and he raised his hands defensively. She knew it was risky but her Captain took the same risk with her. “I didn’t shoot her.” She said in her defensive and Casey could only smirk. “What should we do?”
“Prepare, He’ll find us eventually.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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The fire crackled deep within the heart of Winterfell. The harsh cold of the Northern wind was but an unpleasant thought within the warmth of the grey keep. The bed chambers that had once belonged to a king now belonged to a priestess. She sat staring into the fire, as she so often did seeing visions of what her god chose to show her. She had seen the escape of the youngest prince yet had told no one. She wanted to see what part this boy would have to play in the coming events, he had a kings blood after all and kings blood held power. She saw the resistance rise up against her, led in the field by another boy thinking himself a conqueror. He didn't have the light the prince had and Melisandre found him rather unremarkable. What was remarkable to her was her pirate captain, The Crimson Lady.

She had heard the reports of how Sheva had knifed a man who'd thought to steal her slave from her. The fire showed her the truth. Robyn had merely discovered the body. She had spirited the girl away to her ship and was keeping her quite safe. There was a surprising amount of tenderness to the fearsome pirate captain when she was around the girl who was something of a mystery. She watched as the girl cooked, and cleaned and even laughed on good days. Yet the sadness was always there, always lingering in the dark like hungry eyes in the night. She watched as the girl navigated the dangers of a pirate ship, her only solace was a tiny necklace she constantly was clutching or an arrow.

That arrow intrigued Melisandre the most. It was the one pulled from the body of the solider it had killed, the one that had thought to force himself on the girl. It had come from the darkness but even the fire did not show her who fired it. No, her first look was a blurry one at best later in the night as he crept back into the city like a wraith and killed four men with captivating skill and ease. The man whose legend had reached her ears shortly after the murders. The Arrow, sometimes called The Hood was a fable, a story the common folk told each other. A benevolent avenger, a hero criminal. He robbed from the rich, he gave to the poor and he punished the unjust. This Arrow was intriguing, to say the least. What kind of man it would take to designate himself as a hero, an crusader for the people given all one must undertake and sacrifice to accept such a duty. This Arrow was no mere man. Whether or not he was indeed a hero was yet to be seen but Melisandre would watch his next move with great interest.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark

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ImageClara sat in the small room behind the kitchen, there was a small port window that allow her to look out the window and out at the vast sea. Today was a bad day. A day when she couldn’t even force a smile. Life on this ship had been rather nice considering the horrors her mind had conjured. Captain Sheva was true to her word. Two men died since her arrival. All because they got handsy. And just as she said, all Clara had to do was scream. The first time Clara had been cooking, preparing a roast dinner for the crew to whom were grateful for an actual dinner where the meat didn’t make them vomit it all up. She’d been standing with her back to the door. He came in, his face had been bruised quite badly, apparently at the hand of the Captain. He spoke some sweet words to her to get her attention but she knew his intention. When she told him no, he tried to force the issue. Clara screamed as hard as she could and the Captian came down like an avenging angel, sending her blade through his back before he had time to turn. The Second time, a man was drunk, and as she was passing out food, he pinched her. Clara didn’t mean to scream but it happened and there was a bullet in his head before she had time to think. She turned to see the Captain, walking back into her cabin. After that, she’d been rather safe, until the raiding began, bullets had whizzed pass, cannons boomed, Northman fell. Clara sat in this room, again today, clutching the necklace against her chest. Robyn had come in, covered in blood and bone and a bullet in her own arm, but all she’d been concerned was with her.
Despite all that, Clara was still sad. She missed Jon, her heart ached every time she thought of him, falling. She couldn’t imagine it but it had to be true, otherwise, he’d been here, he’d have found her.
She wiped her eyes. The only solace was the arrow she had with her. It was her good luck charm. She’d cleaned the blood from it, and it shined a bright green. She studied the thing over and over, knew this arrow. She twirled the arrow between her fingers as Casey entered the room. “We’re making port for supplies.” he said, blood still splattered against his clothes. “ Do you want something?”
“For you to stop killing my people.” She said bitterly, not looking at him. Casey sighed and just walked away, knowing there was no talking to her when she was like this. Casey was very nice to her, she would even consider him friendly, but right now, he was no better than any of the others as Northern blood colored his collar. She gripped the wolf at her neck, letting her grief taken her.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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The Harbinger had just docked, Oliver had been waiting the better part of the week for them to finally make land fall again. They were out there, killing Northmen by the boat load. Any ship that tried to leave was sunk, any vessel that tried to lend aid was boarded and cleared of all living occupants. After a while people stopped trying, what with the Crimson Lady prowling the waters. That was her domain, and this was his. He pulled himself out of the water, grabbing a firm grip on the anchors morning line. He had swum beneath the massive ship so as not to be spotted trying to make a land approach. Oliver knew he was probably his stealth was rivaled by few, none in The North but he also knew that Captain Robyn Sheva was smart. Smart enough to know he wouldn't forget she'd gone back on her word, though apparently she wasn't smart enough not to betray him in the first place. He'd teach her the lesson before long.

Climbing up the ladder Oliver's usual forest green leathers were drenched but his quiver was covered in a casing of water tight sheep skin as to not damage any of his gear. It was strapped securely to his back as he scaled the rope and reached the deck. He moved slowly, like snake poised to strike. Most of the pirates were already off the ship happy to be at port where wine and women were in abundance. The few that remained were busy about their duties, those that were on watch weren't watching sea side. One man was walking past the rail where Oliver was hanging below. A tall man, blonde with blue eyes and blood staining his shirt collar. He waited patiently, before hopping over the railing and wrapping his arm around the man's throat. The man lost consciousness in seconds as The Arrow choked the life sustaining air from him. Oliver set him down softly and pulled the sheep skin from his quiver before moving on.

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He drew an arrow and fired it at the crows nest, the projectile found it's target deep in the temple of the pirate on watch. Oliver's aim was good to say the least. He ensured that not only did the man die instantly as to not sound an alarm but he didn't fall off the perch, merely collapsing where he stood. A feast for the crows, fitting given his location. Next The Arrow was on the move, moving about the ship like a shadow. Two pirates were ascending the stairs to reach the upper decks. Oliver waited in a crouch for them to pass before springing to action. He swept the legs of one, dropping him to the ground before elbowing the second in the throat silencing him. Oliver hit the downed man across the temple with his bow, using it like a club before whirling around and hitting the other. Both men were unconscious in seconds. Oliver spotted his next three targets. Pirates rounding the corner to head toward the deck. Oliver sprinted at them, his feet still remarkably silent. They didn't notice him until he was on them. He fired one arrow mid sprint, hitting the pirate in the chest. The other, Oliver tripped up as he slid into his legs, readying an arrow as he did. As soon as the pirate he'd slid into hit the ground he fired his arrow from a laying down position. The arrow hit the standing pirate under the jaw, piercing the top of his skull. The Arrow flipped up to his feet as the last pirate living scrambled to his feet, reaching for his gun. A quick spin kick to the face ended any thoughts of retaliation as the pirate dropped to the ground in a heap.

Arrow climbed up the railing over the wheel house, spotting four more targets. All separated and easy pickings for the expert archer. Four arrows, four bodies, in little more than four seconds. Oliver had scouted out The Harbinger before, in case he'd ever need to do this. He knew where the captains cabin was and he knew he could reach it from the exterior of the ship. He knew that and could have gone there directly. He didn't want to go there first. He wanted to make sure than when he had Robyn Sheva staring down the tip of one of his arrows, she would have no hope of salvation. Oliver tied a rope to the rail above the wheel house and prepared for his jump. Given the size of The Harbinger he had about a two story drop before he'd have to swing into the side of the vessel to crash through the glass of the captains cabin window. An easy feat, he'd preformed countless time but one he had to get right. Once he was alone with her he'd have to draw on her before she drew on him. No easy thing when one was talking about the Crimson Lady but Oliver knew he could beat her, he'd warned her as much but she didn't listen. She was about to wish she had.

Oliver took a running start and leapt out into the open air, the rope firmly in his right hand. He sailed down, his mind calm. He counted the seconds he would need, before he was right where he needed to be. At the perfect moment he tightened his grip on the rope and swung into personal quarters of The Crimson Lady. Glass went flying as his body came crashing through the window sending shards of it all over the room. He was drawing an arrow before he'd even touched the floor. His body hitting the wooden floor of her office in a roll. He came up, his bow drawn and an arrow aimed right between her eyes.

"Robyn Sheva, you have failed this kingdom!"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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"Robyn Sheva, You have failed this kingdom."
Robyn knew he was coming but damn was he fast. She hadn't had time to free her flintlock.
"Took you long enough." She said, ducking, bending backwards, just barely out of the way of his flying arrow. The sharp edge cut her across eye, it was shallow but it hurt. She knew this was coming and she'd been prepared. She knew the Arrow, he'd have cased the area on land, but this ship was hers. He didn't have time to scout. She kicked out, connecting with his stomach. She got to her feet quickly, snatching her flintlock and firing, He dodged and she knew he would. Then a shrill scream came from the cabin.

"Shit." She spat and her attention wasn't on him anymore, but her ward. She knew what the Arrow did, and if the girl saw the bodies. She turned, full tilt out the door. She ran out, dodging arrow after arrow as she threw herself forward and down the stairs to the deck, she hit and rolled to her feet, She looked up to see Clara looked at her, tears streaking her face. "C-Captain." The arrow struck her in the shoulder blade, spinning her around. Robyn grimaced. He would strike the good arm. Clara looked up and down at her then covered her body with her own. "Please! Don't hurt her!" She screamed and Robyn couldn't have been more shocked as Clara clutched her to her chest, maybe the pain was making her see things because another arrow didn't come.


(sorry so short, -_-)

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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[no worries ;P]

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She was fast, faster than most. His arrow should have burrowed a hole through her skull. Instead she got a nice, superficial cut on her cheek just below her eye. She kicked him in the gut as he advanced, forcing him to back pedal and ready another arrow. She grabbed for her gun and fired. The shot was sloppy and rushed making it easy for Oliver to avoid. He dove behind her desk, popping up with an arrow ready when he'd heard the scream. Loud and piercing, a womans scream and a young woman at that. The scream gave him pause, every instinct told him to abandon the fight and go after the source of the scream but Robyn Sheva was not the kind of opponent you ignored, she'd kill you too fast for that. Miraculously she had different ideas as she turned and barreled out the door towards the sound.

Oliver wasn't sure what she was playing at or who she was running toward but he'd make damned sure she never reached her. He fired arrow after arrow down the hallway after her. In the tight corridor she didn't have much room to maneuver. She could duck down or scramble to the right and left but only a step in either direction. Despite how easily he should have filled her full of arrows by now she'd managed to avoid the worst of it forcing The Arrow to give chase with a muffled curse under his breath. He sprinted down the hall after her, firing as he ran. She couldn't keep this up forever. They exited the hall and came out onto the open air of the deck where the bodies Oliver had left lay dead or unconscious. Whoever screamed was right in front of them, obscured by Robyn's running body preventing Oliver from getting a look at her. Sheva dove off the steps for the woman, no doubt to grab her and use her as a hostage or worse. Oliver wouldn't give her the chance.

One more arrow, carefully aimed and timed. He released his hold on the arrow and the bowstring sprang to life, sending it's deadly payload soaring through the air. The arrow bit deep into her shoulder blade, spinning her around in mid air for her to crash down onto the deck. Her face was contorted in pain and as Oliver knocked a final arrow they both knew for the briefest of moments that these were the final moments of The Crimson Lady. He'd kill her for this. She'd made him a promise once, to never bring her bloody business to The North. He had told her it was under his protection and as long as she respected that they could do business, she could even call him an ally if she needed him. She betrayed that trust. She showed him he was wrong to give her the chance in the first place. He'd shown mercy and he wouldn't make that mistake again.

That's when he saw her, hair of midnight curls and tears streaming down her olive skinned cheeks. It was her, the girl from Winterfell. She was even more beautiful close up. The girl he'd saved with an arrow and now she was putting herself in front of one. He stared at her from behind his hood and for the first time in a long time he hesitated.

"Please! Don't hurt her!"

She screamed. Oliver held his arrow, the bow string taught and primed to release. He could still hit Robyn from here, he knew he could but he didn't want to, not anymore. To have that girl putting herself between death and Robyn made Oliver feel just wrong. Like he was the very thing he fought every day. Her eyes, filled with tears looked up at him and took a breath, slow and yet strained. He lowered his bow and clenched his jaw, unsure what came next.

"Ok... you win. No more."

He said, his voice losing some of that harsh growl The Arrow was so infamous for and held more of Oliver's natural voice. He slid his arrow back into his quiver and looked from Robyn to the mystery girl and back again.

"What is going on here?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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Clara could hardly breath as she started down the hooded man. Robyn looking up at her, clutching at her arm that had fallen limp at her side.

"Ok...You win. No more." He said and Clara felt her breath leave her chest in a violent gasp. Sure, signs of a panic attack as she stared up at the man. "What is going on here?"

"Sh-She...I-I."
"Clara, move, he only wants-ah." Robyn had risen to her knees, but the pain in her arm, jarred her for a moment. "C-Captian." Clara peeped, watching blood drip down her arm. "Clara, run." She said and stood up fully and it was then Clara noticed the arrow. Clara scrambled ahead of her and held out her arms. She looked at the man. "You saved me...that day, When Captain found me, you saved me." She said, her breathing was short and she was trembling. "Wh-what ever she's done...Killing her won't solve it...she's not all bad."
"Yes, I am."
"NO, you're not, you saved me too."

"Don't be foolish, Clara, get back.'"

"No! Please, maybe we can... m-make a deal... o-or something." Clara's breathing increased too quickly, the Captain was watching her now, she knew what was coming. Clara did too and there was nothing she could do.

"Been there, done that, that's why he's here."

Clara's vision blurred, she clutched her chest, and gasped, short, whimpered panic breathes. The Captain turned to her, ignoring the Hooded man so much that she turned her back to him. She looked Clara in the eyes. " Clara, count." She said and Clara couldn't stop shaking, this had be happening lately, on the bad days when her grief and fear became too much. Her chest closed, her breath threatened, not to come but again, the Captain was there, like she was now.

"...1" She whimpered

Clara focused on the Captain's worried eyes. Eyes like Jon's would have been. She couldn't lose her too.

"Count Clara." The Captain urged. Clara looked at the Hooded man. Her vision blurring and sharpening.

"2..."

"Now breathe."

Clara took a deep breath and her chest stopped aching, slowly.

"3..."

The Captain breathed with her, through her own pain.

"4." They said together, their eyes locked on one another. Clara allow the world to fall away and just focused on the Captain.

"5." Clara was calm again, the panic attack over.

Robyn stood then, sweat dotting her brow. She stood in front of Clara, protectively.

"Let the girl walk and we can finished this." She said and Clara shook her head and grabbed her uninjured arm. Robyn winched but her gaze held the hooded man.

"No! Please, I can't lose you too!" She begged and Robyn looked at her strangely. As if she saw her with new eyes. Clara then looked at the hooded man, herself, passion burning in her amber eyes. " Please, She's all I have left." She said and realized then how, in such a short time, how she'd grown to care for the Captain, despite it all.
Jon said she was like that, she loved so much, hate was near impossible for her, at least not for long. She even loved her parents when most wouldn't have.

She clutched at Robyn's arm, who was now turning pale.

"Please..."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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Oliver locked eyes with Robyn Sheva, The Crimson Lady, the scourge of the seas and doom to sailors fool enough to test her waters. He stood there, his bow in his hand, his jaw tensed yet made no move. She had promised not to attack The North, she'd gone back on that promise and began working with The Fiery Hand, she'd killed and murdered and maimed during her time working for them. She'd taken this girl as a captive yet had treated her kindly, gently. So much so that she'd garnered the trust and even love of this young woman. She was willing to die to protect Robyn Sheva, he'd never thought he'd see the day that anyone would do that. She pleaded with him, staring into the darkness of his hood and begged him. He had saved her that day, she remembered it well as did he. Would he be saving her now if he killed Robyn or spared her?

"Please, She's all I have left. Please..."

She said, her voice heavy with emotion as tears streamed down her cheeks and she clutched at the arm of Robyn Sheva. Sheva herself had lost all color, her skin was pasty, her eyes were hazy and her eye lids fluttered reflexively. Oliver could see her shuddered breathes, the way she swayed on her unsteady feet. His choice was made for him as her knees buckled and she dropped. Oliver was fast enough to catch her before she fell, slipping his right arm under her left arm and around her back to support her weight.

"She's lost a lot of blood, we need to get this arrow out."

Oliver said as he slung his bow over his back before he put his left arm under her knees and picked her up. Standing up, cradling Robyn in his arms the oddness that he was about to attempt to save her life when he was trying to kill her moments earlier was not lost on him. His eyes flicked to the midnight haired beauty beside him as she looked up at him so curiously.

"I'm going to need your help."

He said before walking off back the way they'd come towards Robyn's office. As they made their way down the corridor they passed all the arrows Oliver had fired earlier. Easily a dozen or more were sticking out of the wall and floor, sunk deep into the wood of the ship. She got lucky she got hit by the one she did, where she did. Arrow entered Robyn's office and cleared everything off her desk with one sweep of his arm after he leaned Robyn back on his chest so he could free up a hand. Then he set her down as gently as possibly and rolled her onto her stomach so he could see the wound. He shot a quick glance back at the girl who was looking on in concern.

"We need needle and thread."

He said, giving her something to do so she wouldn't be consumed with worry. Turning back to Robyn's unconscious body Oliver needed to inspect the wound. Pulling another arrow out of his quiver he used the arrow head as a razor blade and sliced open the shirt so he could expose the wound. He balled up the extra cloth to use as a bandage once the arrow was out. The arrow had sunk deep, looking to have stopped at the shoulder blade. That was fortunate, should the arrow had gone all the way through, she'd probably be dead by now. He eyed the arrow stuck in her back critically, there was nothing for it, it had to come out. Wrapping one hand tightly around the base of the arrow while he put his other hand on her back to hold her down. He took a breath and pulled hard and fast, tearing the projectile clean out of her back. Blood spurted out but he quickly applied the cloth to the wound to staunch the bleeding. He reached for a bottle of rum sitting nearby, the one thing pirate ships were good for was alcohol. He pulled the cork out with his teeth before spitting it out and pouring some of the strong drink on the wound to clean it out and sanitize it.

There was too much blood, she was going to bleed out if he didn't do something. His mind snapped to a remedy he'd learned on the island and had used a few times since. He turned to the girl who was approaching him with needle and thread.

"Here, come here."

He said, beckoning her to come and stand where he was. He grabbed her hand, the blood on his gloves soaking her olive skin.

"Apply pressure here. Can you sow her up?"

She looked nervous and unsure but resigned to do whatever she could to save her friend. Oliver gave her a reassuring nod and stepped back, pulling off his gloves and setting them aside as he went to Robyn's dresser. He pulled back his hood so he could work and reached down to his belt and one of the many pouches on it. He pulled out a tiny satchel smaller than most coin purses. In it were an assortment of strong smelling herbs that he'd gotten from the island. He pinched a bit and put them in a mortar and pestle on Robyn's dresser. He began meticulously crushing up the herbs until he had a thick, gooey paste. Bringing the foul smelling salve over he tilted Robyn's head and opened her mouth before rubbing a bit on her gums. He could feel the girl staring at him, he looked up, his starling blue eyes meeting her amber ones. Image

"This will stimulate muscle growth and recovery. That wound will heal in half the time, though her breath will smell funny for a few hours."

He said softly to put her at ease before he eyed her work with the needle and thread. She had just finished closing the wound. He walked around to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder at the wound.

"That's a good stitch. She'll be ok, she just needs rest now."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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"She's lost a lot of blood, we need to get this arrow out." He said after catching the Captian as she fell. She’d gone ghostly pale, her full lips tinted blue. It took Clara all she had not to shutter, so she looked up at the hooded man instead. ”I’m going to need your help.” He said and she watched him gingerly lift Robyn in his arms and walk her into her cabin. The entire way, arrows lined the wall and it made Clara feel sick. He was mere moments from killing the one person who’d done nothing but protect her.
Clara felt a little selfish for that, she should have hated her. She killed her countrymen. She’d done so just this morning. She deserved this, but the thought of Robyn’s death made her chest ache.
Once inside, the hooded man, cleared Robyn’s desk and gently lay her on top of it. Clara’s hand held on to the wolf at her throat as she watched him assess the damage he’d done.
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”We need a needle and thread.”
Clara blinked and nodded, she scurried around the cabin, looking for the very thing. She’d seen Casey use it on her when she took a bullet to the arm, a few days prior.
”Where is it? Where is it?” She thought as she looked through Robyn’s things, and after what seemed like hours, she found it, a needle and thread, in a decorative box. Clara would have to ask Robyn about this box, it was lovely, and looked foreign.
She turned back, there was a great deal more blood then there had been before. She was glad she didn’t eat this morning, her heart wasn’t up for it, if it had, it would have threatened to return at the sight. She brought him the needle and thread. He looked up at her.Image ”Here, come here.” He said and she approached him, he took her hands and her heart kicked against her chest, despite the blood that now stained her skin. All she could focus on was his hands on hers. ”Apply pressure here. Can you sow her up?” He asked, leading her hand and Clara had to blink a few times. Her mother taught her needlepoint. She knew how to sow a tight and secure stitch...on fabric...not skin. She shook away her nervousness and nodded. Slowly, she threaded the needle, and took a deep breath before sliding the needle through Robyn’s skin, up and over, up and over, she sowed the wound closed. She looked up as he approached with an odd smelling paste, and watched him place it in Robyn’s mouth.
Clara’s brow stitched for a moment as she looked at him "This will stimulate muscle growth and recovery. That wound will heal in half the time, though her breath will smell funny for a few hours." He said, he was trying to joke but honestly, Clara was struck by the sight of his eyes, no longer hidden by the hood. She, thankfully, had just as she finished and was glad for it, otherwise, she would have froze there. She blinked back to reality and looked down at her work. It was a perfect stitch, just as her mother taught her. She cut the thread and knotted it as he came around her, looking over her shoulder. It was then she got a good look at his face. He was...handsome in a way that made her heart rap against her ribcage, his closeness brought warmth to her body, making her realize she was cold. "That's a good stitch. She'll be ok, she just needs rest now." He said, but all Clara could do was watch him.
She’d dreamt of meeting him. The one that saved her life that day. Her mind had conjured up thoughts of how they’d one day meet, how she’d thank him for what he’d done. She never believed she would actually meet him, and all she could do now was look at him. Handsomely chiseled face, deep-set eyes, the color of the sea, there was darkness there, they were guarded, and perhaps even a little sad...there was something about his eyes that made her want to lose herself in them.
”say something, Clara.”
“Thank you...” She breathed, looking away. “for sparing her...and for saving me...I owe you my life.” She said and while that man probably wouldn’t have killed her, it certainly wouldn’t have been the life she wanted and she knew herself enough, that she wouldn’t have let it last very long. She’d threatened to end it once...
“I’m Clara...Clara Stark.” She said, and for the life of her didn’t know why she was even still talking. “I never thought I’d get to see you...but this was certainly not the way I’d imagined it...” She stopped and blushed red. ”Gods, Clara, stop talking.”
It would help if he weren’t so close...no, it wouldn’t and she knew it. Gods, she was hopeless..

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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Oliver's gaze drifted from Robyn's unconscious to the midnight haired beauty standing before him. She looked up at him, nearly trembling. Her hands caked with dried blood, her face stained with tears, yet in her eyes there was something almost magical. A purity, a hope that Oliver didn't think existed anymore. He could see it as she looked at him, as if she didn't believe what she was looking at. He stood, looking down at her almost in awe himself. In awe of her beauty, of her spirit and her strength. He'd seen it that night when he'd saved her, that strength born of anger and rage, not wanting to be weak she refused to submit. He admired it then, and seeing what she accomplished today he admired her now. She was truly remarkable.

“Thank you...”

She spoke finally, breaking the tension between them with a soft, breathy voice. She looked away from him, as if embarrassed as she continued, he found her demeanor adorably attractive.

“for sparing her...and for saving me...I owe you my life.”

"You don't owe me anything."

Oliver replied softly.

“I’m Clara...Clara Stark. I never thought I’d get to see you...but this was certainly not the way I’d imagined it...”

"Stark?.."

Oliver muttered in shock. He'd heard the Starks were all dead but his scouts and agents had proven otherwise. The leaders of the pack had fallen yes, The King Edmond and his wife along with their three sons and their young daughter. There were reports that two of Lord Eddards Starks children had been killed as well since they were in Winterfell at the time of the attack but that hadn't proved entirely true either. Robb Stark had somehow survived and was now leading the resistance against The Fiery Hand, not only that but he was doing quite well so far, he hadn't lost a battle since this began. As for young Arya Stark no words of whether she was alive or dead had yet to surface.

Clara Stark was not one of the well known of the Stark extended family. He knew she was the youngest daughter of Lord Edwin Stark. He'd heard tell that the eldest, Julia was on the fast track up the political ladder but not Clara, little was known about her. Yet while his mind flashed through what facts he knew about her all he could do was feel sorrow for the girl standing before him. Sorrow for the loss of so many members of her family, the tragedies she'd suffered so recently and the predicament she was now in. She wasn't like the other nobility he'd encountered, that was obvious. She wasn't a target or a threat, just... Clara. Image

"I'm..."

Oliver began, his voice unsteady as fumbled. Compassion was not something he'd conveyed openly in a while.

"I'm sorry, for what's happened. I tried to get to Winterfell as soon as I'd heard... I wish I could have saved them too."

Oliver said honestly. He may have had his issues with the noble class but a blood bath was never the answer. He only killed when necessary and he never did so mercilessly. He was a killer, for certain but he fought every day to rein in his more violent tendencies. He couldn't allow himself to become the very thing he fought against, someone with power doing what he wanted because he could.

"At least they didn't get all of you. You made it out, and your cousin, that's something to hold on to."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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"Stark?" The surprise in his voice, made her blink. So perhaps she hadn't made a complete fool of herself. He studied her then, making Clara feel suddenly small, his eyes, were startling but she couldn't look away. He looked as if he knew of her but not well. That was a look she was familiar with, everyone knew Julia, but the littlest one, seemed to take them by surprise. Finally, she pulled her eyes away from him, her brow furrowing at the thought of her sister, how she last saw her, a body, piled ontop of the others. nameless...

"I'm..." He stopped, and she heard the unsteadiness of his voice, as if he didn't know how to say what he wanted.
"I'm sorry, for what's happened. I tried to get to Winterfell as soon as I'd heard... I wish I could have saved them too." He said and Clara could only nod, her heart aching at the thought of her family, gone. Her hand rose to the pendant at her neck, as if trying to draw strength from it.
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"At least they didn't get all of you. You made it out, and your cousin, that's something to hold on to."
Clara nodded but then finally what he said struck her. Her head rose slowly in realization. "My cousin?" She asked, slowly. "Who is it? Where are they? Can you take me to them?" She asked all in one breath. Her heart raced. Was it Jon? Was he alive? Was he still looking for her? What if it wasn't Jon? It didn't matter who it was, she would be happy just the same. If she were honest with herself, she was hoping it was Jon.

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Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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She jumped at the mention of her surviving cousin. The reaction was almost chemical, word of his survival was the catalyst, hope and worry were the result. She bombarded Oliver with question and he saw she hadn't heard about him. She had no idea Robb Stark yet lived or perhaps the last she'd heard were the early reports that too was slain. Oliver had heard those rumors as well but The Brotherhood without Banners has an extensive network of spies and agents working in every city and holdfast of The North. Robb Stark had taken command of the sword arm of the resistance. He led from the from as it's battlefield commander. While young he had a good head for war and as of yet, hasn't lost a single battle. He's been liberating slave camps and small villages picking away at the occupations forces. Image

His father Lord Eddard Stark was working on the long term running of the country and ensuring it's survival. He remained in Castle Black with his wife and remaining family. He's been sending out ravens to every nation that might possibly be convinced to lend aid. He's been providing sanctuary to refugees as well as the wounded. There was a time that Lord Eddard may have been in the field with his son but he was an older man and would in truth only get in the way. While not an old decrepit elder he was long past his solidering days and he had a bad leg that troubled him. Fortunately Lord Eddard was not a prideful man and had no qualms about staying behind in Castle Black. He was proud to help the war effort in any way he could. It troubled Oliver to think this meek man would probably be their king when it was all said and done. Then again he wouldn't necessarily want The Wild Wolf running things either.

"You haven't heard? No one told you?"

Oliver asked his eyes, only momentarily flicking to Robyn's unconscious body wondering if she knew, before returning to Clara.

"Robb Stark, he was in Winterfell for your wedding. They'd said he was killed but he wasn't. He survived, fought his way out of Winterfell and regrouped with loyal Stark bannermen. He's leading the resistance in tandem with his father Lord Eddard Stark who is technically next in line for the throne. Last I'd heard Lord Eddard is working out of Castle Black and you're cousin is marching on White Harbor with his army to take it back from the invaders. If you want me to take you to him, I can."

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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"You haven't heard? No one told you?"
Clara shook her head furiously. “ No, last I heard, everyone one was dead.” she said, her hands gripping at her dress in anticipation.

"Robb Stark, he was in Winterfell for your wedding. They'd said he was killed but he wasn't. He survived, fought his way out of Winterfell and regrouped with loyal Stark bannermen. He's leading the resistance in tandem with his father Lord Eddard Stark who is technically next in line for the throne. Last I'd heard Lord Eddard is working out of Castle Black and you're cousin is marching on White Harbor with his army to take it back from the invaders. If you want me to take you to him, I can."

There was a small amount of disappointment. She had to admit. She wanted it to be Jon but only because they'd been closer. Robb, he was a great man and he'd spoil her rotten if he could. He was always good for a laugh, so laid back and calm, in a way that would charm any woman. Jon was more brooding that way. The disappointment was gone and now hope bloomed in her chest. Uncle Eddard yet lived as well and better still, Robb was coming to White Harbor. He was going to liberate her home...and he could take her too him. She wasn't alone.

“Please! I want to-”
“Ugh...” A groan from the desk stole Clara's attention and she dashed over. “Captain!” She said looking over at her. The piratess opened her eyes and turned over, heaving up whatever he put in her mouth,. “ What in the happy hell was that?!” She said after relieving the contents of her stomach. “I'm not sure exactly but he said It would help you heal.” She said and that's when Robyn looked up, her face still green from nausea. Her eyes narrowed. “You son of a bi-”
“Captain Stop!” Clara pushed her back, as Robyn started. “You deserved it! You killed my countrymen, and if it weren't for you protecting me the way you did, I would have never forgiven you.” She said, and Robyn's dark eyes met Clara's impassioned amber ones. “ You deserved that arrow your back, and honestly, it will do nothing to placate the lives you took, but perhaps you can atone for it.” She said and Robyn look at her oddly. As if the Clara standing there was not the Clara she knew. Clara was breathing hard and Robyn cocked her eyes, her eyes now dancing with amusement. “How so?” She asked her and Clara blinked. She hadn't thought that far ahead but she had to think of something. “ My cousin, Robb, He leads the resistance. You can help him.” She said and Robyn looked at her. Image“With what?” She said as if this was completely absurd. “Fighting them. Fight against them.” She said. “Otherwise, He'll kill you and there won't be a thing I could do to stop it.” She said, and was shaking again. She was bluffing something fierce but she needed to try something. Robyn's eyes rose to the man behind her, they narrowed before she looked back down at her. “What makes you I want atonement.”
“I don't think you do, but I think you want to protect me, why, I don't know, either way, I have a habit of getting into trouble. I am going to White Harbor, with or without you.” She said and Robyn chuckled, making Clara feel small again. “I knew there was a reason I took you.” She said and Clara let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. “ Fine, we'll go to white harbor.” She said and Clara smiled. “ Without the Arrow.” She said and Clara's smile vanished. “ He comes.”
“He killed my men.”
“You killed mine!” Clara spat back and Robyn was struck dumb for a moment and then she looked at the Arrow.
“Fine, He cleans up to bodies.” She said and Clara relaxed. That was close as she was going to get as a yes and she'll take it.
She turned to the Arrow and smiled, blinking some. “There. We're going to White Harbor.” She said and exhaustion over took her and she fainted.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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The groan snapped Oliver's attention from Clara and her beuaty, her light to a piratess returning form death itself. She coughed, complaining of what was in her mouth. That herbal paste saved her life, but from first hand experience, Oliver knew how it tasted and what it did to your stomach. She vomited before looking back at him.

“You son of a bi-”

She began, a look of pure hate in her eyes. Oliver didn't move, his stare steady and even as a bowstring poised to fire. She tried to rise but it was Clara who stopped her much to both Robyn and Oliver's suprise.

“Captain Stop!” Image

Clara shouted as she pushed her back, as Robyn started.

“You deserved it! You killed my countrymen, and if it weren't for you protecting me the way you did, I would have never forgiven you.You deserved that arrow your back, and honestly, it will do nothing to placate the lives you took, but perhaps you can atone for it.”

Clara offered atonement, a worthy goal. For someone like Robyn Sheva, he wasn't sure there was atonement for the things she'd done but there was always a start. Could she ever be good, noble, kind? Oliver wasn't so sure, anymore than if he was any of those things. What she could do was fight, fight against those who've poisoned this country. She'd been a part of that, as he had so many years ago and his father before him but it wasn't who she was underneath, but what she did that defined her. He had to believe that, as much for her as he had to for himself.

“How so?”

Robyn asked her stopping Clara in her tracks. Oliver flicked his gaze to her, honestly curious what her answer would be.

“My cousin, Robb, He leads the resistance. You can help him.”

“With what?”

“Fighting them. Fight against them.Otherwise, He'll kill you and there won't be a thing I could do to stop it.”

She said. As if response to her words Oliver's eyes narrowed on Robyn. Clara was right, and he wouldn't spare The Crimson Lady twice. That's when he noticed Clara was shaking again. He took a step closer to her, not liking what he was seeing.

“What makes you I want atonement?”

Robyn asked.

“I don't think you do, but I think you want to protect me, why, I don't know, either way, I have a habit of getting into trouble. I am going to White Harbor, with or without you.”

She said and Robyn chuckled.

“I knew there was a reason I took you.”

“Fine, we'll go to white harbor. Without the Arrow.”

Oliver let his gaze turn back to Robyn. She was either crazy or delirious or both, he was not allowing Robyn Sheva to take Clara anywhere alone. The only reason she was still breathing was because Clara had stayed his hand but not for one second did he trust Robyn.

“He comes.”

“He killed my men.”

“You killed mine!”

Clara spat back and Robyn was struck dumb for a moment and then she looked at the Arrow. Oliver held her stare evenly. She hated this and he knew it. He wasn't going anywhere without Clara. She didn't have control, she hated it and he knew it. It was all in a look, a silent dare, to try and make him leave.

“Fine, He cleans up to bodies.”

She said and Oliver wanted to chuckle. She was grasping at straws, she just wanted to do anything to get back at him but she had nothing. Clara turned to him and smiled, blinking some.

“There. We're going to White Harbor.”

She fell but for the second time today, he was fast enough to catch her. He stood there, holding Clara in his arms, his eyes on Robyn as she stared back at him.Image

"No more feinting."

He said, only half joking before he turned to head out the door.

"Show me where her room is, then you and I can have that chat that we both know is coming."

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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"No more feinting."

The Arrow said and The Crimson Lady could have cheerfully, kicked his ass so hard he'd spend the rest of his days spinning, but she couldn't, not for the tiny little sprite in his arms. to whom held more power then she first thought. She was impressed.

"Show me where her room is, then you and I can have that chat that we both know is coming."

"The Kitchen , below deck." She said and walked with him to the room where Clara stayed, she pushed the door open and saw that the wall panel hadn't been closed back. She must had heard the bodies drop and came rushing up...worried for her. Robyn looked at the girl. She did care for the girl, it was very hard not to and it seemed the girl felt the same about her. "There." She said and nodded to the bed inside the once hidden room. As he laid her on the bed, Robyn folded her arms across her chest.

"Go ahead and threaten me, tell me how I broke the deal, yea, yea, Get on with it." She said with a huff. It wasn't like she was afraid of him, but she didn't want to be on his bad side, his weapons came quite in handy. She didn't want to lose that. That ship has sailed and sunk, she knew that the moment she agreed to meet with Melissande. "What I'd like to know is why haven't you strung your bow yet? It can't honestly be because of her?" She asked him and smirked that devilish grin that both drew men in and took them out. She was very curious as to why he hadn't resumed there fight. If it was because of Clara, that girl had more power then she knew.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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Oliver laid her down gently, resting her head on her pillow. She looked so peaceful, content, like she had not a care in the world. If only that were true. Yet she would wake up, and when she did all her troubles would be back, but after he what he'd seen of her she'd be able to handle it. He stepped out of her room and turned to Robyn who seemed frustrated to say the least.

"Go ahead and threaten me, tell me how I broke the deal, yea, yea, Get on with it. What I'd like to know is why haven't you strung your bow yet? It can't honestly be because of her?"

Oliver cocked his head ever so slightly as he looked at Robyn incredulously.

"Can't it? Would it be that surprising? I made her a promise on the deck of this ship not an hour ago. I told her 'no more'. I don't go back on my promises."

He said, adding emphasis where it was needed to let her know he wouldn't soon forget her betrayal. They stared each other down a moment before he turned from her with a shake of his head, half in disgust and half in frustration.

"I'm not going to ask you why."

He said as he looked at her again while he leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest.

"Because to be honest I don't care. If it was money, or power or whatever the hell it was she promised you to get you to join her. What I do want to know is what you're doing with, her."

He said, with a nod towards Clara's sleeping body.

"I may have done things I'm not proud of but saving people is not out of the realm of normalcy for me. You on the other hand, the list of people I can think of that you've helped I can count on one hand and most of those weren't out of the goodness of your heart. So what is it about her? Why protect her? And no jokes, no bravado. Give me a straight answer, for once. Let's say you owe me for saving your life."

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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"Can't it? Would it be that surprising? I made her a promise on the deck of this ship not an hour ago. I told her 'no more'. I don't go back on my promises."

Robyn had to laugh. He was really not gonna let that go. Did he not know who she was? She was the Crimson Lady, the most feared pirate on the sea, her wrath and violence was second only to a hurricane. She didn't get that way by making promises of mercy.

I'm not going to ask you why."
"Then don't," came her reply.

"Because to be honest I don't care. If it was money, or power or whatever the hell it was she promised you to get you to join her. What I do want to know is what you're doing with, her." He said and she cocked her head, her brow arched.

"I may have done things I'm not proud of but saving people is not out of the realm of normalcy for me. You on the other hand, the list of people I can think of that you've helped I can count on one hand and most of those weren't out of the goodness of your heart. So what is it about her? Why protect her? And no jokes, no bravado. Give me a straight answer, for once. Let's say you owe me for saving your life."

Robyn looked at him, then to her and then back at him. She honestly had no idea, she hadn't really thought about it, it was as if she was compelled to keep her close.
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"Why me?! Of all the men, of all the boys, you chose me, a girl, a whore?! Why Captain?"

"Your eyes, Robyn."


"Her eyes." She said and decided she'd give him this. "There was something in her eyes, they reminded me of someone,
I'd lost." She said, and her jaw set, she looked down at the floor, her mind floating back to her time she'd rather forget.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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ImageOliver looked at Robyn and couldn't believe her candor. For a moment, a brief moment that swagger of the pirate captain was gone and he got a glimpse at the woman underneath. Someone who wasn't always so strong, so untouchable, someone who was damaged. Not so unlike himself. With such a simple explanation he got it. It was cemented his belief that he'd suspect all those years ago when he first met Robyn Sheva. She was better than she thought she was, she was more, maybe she didn't realize it but she had the potential to be more.

Oliver nodded slowly, in understanding.

"It's the things we lose, the things we can probably never get back, that we spend the rest of our lives chasing."

Oliver paused as she looked at him, something distant in her eyes, like a memory. Robyn Sheva was a complex individual and someone who was deserved more than an arrow in the back, she deserved a second chance.

"You said something in there, about atonement. You asked what made her think you wanted it."

Oliver took a moment to find the words.

"People like you and me don't want atonement, because we don't deserve it. The things we've done, the people we've hurt, it changes us. It's like we're fighting a war everyday of our lives and it chips little pieces of ourselves away. Maybe, there isn't redemption for us, but what we can do is try to make a difference. Try and change things for others, like Clara, to give them what we've lost. So they never have to lose it themselves."

Oliver pushed himself off the wall and took a step towards Robyn.

"Robb Stark can be that difference. If we help him, if you, help him. The Fiery Hand? You don't want to work for them. I know them and they will drag you down and suck the life from you unless you get yourself as far away from them as possible. Let me help you before you drown."

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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"It's the things we lose, the things we can probably never get back, that we spend the rest of our lives chasing." Robyn looked up at him. It was almost as if he knew, if he knew what she was chasing...She looked away.

"He's coming back, He has to come back...He wouldn't just leave me...."

Robyn closed her eyes, shaking the thoughts away. His death still stung to this day and whatever hope she had for happiness died with him.
"You said something in there, about atonement. You asked what made her think you wanted it." He said, bringing her back to the conversation at hand.

"People like you and me don't want atonement, because we don't deserve it. The things we've done, the people we've hurt, it changes us. It's like we're fighting a war everyday of our lives and it chips little pieces of ourselves away. Maybe, there isn't redemption for us, but what we can do is try to make a difference. Try and change things for others, like Clara, to give them what we've lost. So they never have to lose it themselves."

She looked up at him, her brow twitched together some. Words not coming to her. Here she thought she knew the Arrow but there was great deal more to him then she first thought.
He stepped forward and Robyn stood straight, looking him in the eye.
"Robb Stark can be that difference. If we help him, if you, help him. The Fiery Hand? You don't want to work for them. I know them and they will drag you down and suck the life from you unless you get yourself as far away from them as possible. Let me help you before you drown." He said and she chuckled humorlessly. She leaned close almost as if she were going to kiss him.
"I've already drowned..." She whispered and walked out of the kitchen, grabbing a peach on the way. "You've bodies to clean, Arrow, don't forget." She said, her mask back on, and locked tight. He'd gotten too close, way to close. almost as if he picked her brain and laid the contents on a table for all to see. It was suffocating.

She'd go to White Harbor, and try for Clara's sake but she couldn't make any promises...He should know that by now.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara Stark Character Portrait: Oliver Forrester

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She walked out of the room, leaving Oliver alone with her words echoing in his mind. "I've already drowned..." Her voice, like a whisper of the past and all the pain that came along with it. He blinked and it began to rain around him, the floor fell away and he was at sea once again. The day turned to night and the wind howled in fury. He was no longer alone in a room but laying on a driftwood raft, his father holding his head as he struggled just to live on. He was so thirsty, the two men sharing drops of water from a water skin for the past week. Neither had eaten in days and they could both sense death coming for them. His father rubbed his cheek, as he looked down on Oliver's face. There were tears in his fathers eyes and Oliver struggled to look up at him.

"You can survive this. Make it home, make it better. Right my wrongs."

His father's voice was heavy with sadness and love. Oliver turned to look up at him, confusion playing across his weather worn face.

"What?... What are you talking about? Neither of us are making it home..."

He replied, his voice barely a whisper for such little strength he had left. His father smiled, and leaned down to kiss his forehead before pulling away from him.

"You will."

That's when he saw the knife. His father pulled it from the back of his belt. Oliver's eyes grew wide in concern, delirium fading as fear took hold.

"Dad?"

He asked, pushing himself to his knees. A single tear ran down his fathers face as he looked at his son with so much love, the love only a father could have for his son.

"I love you son."

His final words before he plunged the dagger into his gut and fell back into the water.

"Dad?! DAD!!!"


Oliver blinked and he was back aboard the Harbinger, staring through the doorway Robyn Sheva just exited from.

"Or maybe you just need someone else to help you."
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Oliver lowered his eyes as the echoes of his past still reverberated in his mind. By sheer force of will he sealed them away before he turned to see Clara, still asleep in her bed. She was so beautiful and so pure, so unlike those she shared company with at the moment. Oliver knew those panic attacks she was having were only going to get worse, the stress of what was happening no doubt triggering the episodes. He knew a herbal remedy for some of the symptoms and to help calm her.

He was in the kitchen so he went through the cupboards until he found what he was looking for. He filled a teapot with water and set it on the coal stove, once the water was boiling he poured it over the tea leaves. The strong aroma of the chamomile rising off the cup. He brought it over to her, and set it on the night stand beside her bed. He stood there, looking at her a moment. It's the things we lose, the things we can probably never get back, that we spend the rest of our lives chasing.

His own words made Oliver almost smile as he looked on at the sleeping girl with the midnight curls. Oliver turned and left her to her slumber as he ascended the stairs to deal with the bodies.