Post by LYDIA AERWYN BARATHEON on Jun 17, 2013 22:43:05 GMT -5
YOU DREAM ABOUT YOURSELF
AND YOU BLEED AND BREATHE THE AIR.
It was growing colder by the day, winter approaching the kingdom of Ciryatan quickly. For the better part of a year the rightful King Aerys and his most faithful men had been on the move, never staying in one place for too long. With any luck, the Userper would not sit on the throne much longer, especially once they obtained the help of the mages from Faelbane Tower.
Just the thought of Benjen made Lydia shudder. All the years that she had trusted her uncle . . . all the years that her father had trusted him, and yet he . . . She didn't even want to think about it. The last thing she wanted was to get sick during her ride.
Aerys never allowed his sister to run off on her own and, in all honesty, she didn't blame him the slightest bit. Lydia may have known how to wield a sword, but knowing that there was always someone there to watch her back was of great comfort to her. Besides, it wasn't often that she went off on her own. However, there were always times that she just needed to get away from camp and away from the talk of war.
Surely war was inevitable, but knowing that her brother would be the man at the front of the line and the man who would likely cut down the false king . . . it sent chills down her spine. They had already lost Leo and Lucy, not having the slightest clue as to where either of them were. For all they knew, the youngest of the Baratheons could have been back in Everard, beneath the half-ruined city. With Leopold gone, if something were to happen to Aerys, Lydia would be next in line for the throne. It was exactly what Benjen wanted. If he were to marry her then there would be no denying his claim.
"Are you alright, your highness?" came the small voice of Ariana, Lydia's only remaining lady-in-waiting. Though Ariana was a nice enough girl, the two had never quite seen eye to eye. Ariana was much too traditional for her taste. Though she had attempted a close-knit friendship, Ariana always seemed to be fearful of Lydia's rank. Still, even if they weren't the best of friends, they were friends just the same. Ariana had never been one for adventure though, so there was little that the princess could tell her that she could understand. The yearof harships had brought them closer, or as close as they were going to get.
Snapping out of her reverie, Lydia turned her warm, brown eyes toward the girl. Ariana was close to her own age, though shorter and somewhat squat. Her face was a pretty one though, her hair blonde in color. "Nothing . . . I was only thinking," Lydia responded. She didn't want to discuss her uncle's plans to marry her with anyone. Although, from the way Aerys looked at her whenever Benjen was the topic of discussion, she suspected that he knew already.
There was not much that the princess could do about her current predicament though. If something were to happen to her, then Benjen would only turn his attention to Lenore or, even worse, Lucille. As sickening as that thought was, she wouldn't put it past the man, not after what he had divulged to her.
They had wandered somewhat far from the camp, far enough that she could no longer hear the sound of horses neighing and drunken soldiers laughing boisterously by the fire. They were quickly approaching their destination, the tower being perhaps only a day or two's ride east.
Lydia's breath hung heavily in the cold air, visible and swirling before her. Other than the sound of the horses' hooves and their heavy snorts, the forest was silent. The autumn sky was darkening, a sign that Aerys would soon be expecting them. She knew that, if they didn't head back in time, he would soon send a number of men out in search of her party. Fat flakes of snow started to flutter from the sky above. As a few flakes landed in her hair, Lydia's eyes turned skyward, a sigh escaping her lips. Winter was coming. Though she had once welcomed the beautiful snowfalls and the chill in the air, she had not had to worry about her younger brother and sister seeking shelter in such conditions.
As the horse beneath her came to a halt, so did the horses of Arian and the guard who had escorted them on their ride. "Nightfall is approaching, princess. King Aerys will b expecting us back at camp." The soldier's voice was a deep one, ringing with truth. He had always ben a faithful man to her father and was, in turn, one of Aerys's most trusted men, going by the name of Vincent Crowe.
"He worries too much . . ." Lydia said with a sigh, pulling on her gelding's reins and turning him in the direction that they had come from. "With good reason," Crowe responded. Knowing that what he said was true, Lydia chose not to argue. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold and she was eager to be warm once more. The cloak that she wore over her green and gold dress could only do so much. Her curly hair, as per usual, was wild and free, though she had half a mind to pull her hood up to shield her from the snowflakes, as well as to cover her reddening ears from the cold.
"What was that?" she asked, startled and staring past Crowe. "Your highness?" he asked, bewildered. She pointed past him and his eyes followed. "I see nothing, princess. Perhaps it was a shadow?"
"No . . ." she said, somewhat disturbed. Ariana was just as ancy beside her, looking from her and then back to Vincent. "I'm telling you, I saw something."
Crowe merely nodded. "If it pleases you, your highness, I will search for the source of your discomfort." Once she nodded her head in response, he turned his horse and headed back to where she swore she had scene a figure crossing the road. "What do you think it is?" asked Ariana, her nervousness palpable.
Lydia shook her head, looking to the girl. "I can't be sure." A wretched sound echoed through the trees, coming from up ahead, and Lydia's attention snapped to the place up the road, where Crowe had fallen from his horse. Urging her horse forward, Ariana hot on her heels, Lydia slid from her horse and rushed to the man's side, turning his heavy body over.
He was already dead. An arrow to the chest and another to the neck had done him in. The words that came from the princess's lips were incomprehensible, even to her. "What?" Ariana urged her, from atop her horse. "RUN!"
The girl didn't need telling twice. As Lydia flung herself onto her own horse, Ariana was already galloping past. In the moment of panic, there was no telling which way was which, so all Lydia could do was follow after her friend.
The ground was already covered in a thin layer of snow. The sound of arrows shooting through the air echoed in her ears. Leaning low on her gelding and counting heavily on not being hit, Lydia could feel her heart nearly pounding out of her chest in pure terror. Another thwack sounded through the air and her horse reared.
Even if Lydia had been able to maintain her hold on the horse, it would have been useless. Both princess and animal went tumbling, rather painfully. The horse narrowly missed landing upon her and laid upon his side, crying in pain as he was slowly dying. A number of arrows stuck out of his massive body.
Crawling away, her bodyaching from the fall, Lydia tried to seek out cover from the reign of arrows. "Lydia!" Ariana shouted, dismounting her own horse to rush to the princess's aid. "No, Ari, don-"
The sound of steel on flesh made Lydia sick to her stomach. "NO!" she cried out Ariana's head rolling toward her and hitting her foot. Bile rose in her throat and she groped for her sword, which was much lighter and eadier to wield for her than most. Her heart may as well have stopped when she realized that her sword was no longer by her side and, instead, lay half hidden beneath her now dead horse.
Ariana's blood dripped from the man's longsword as Lydia looked from it, all the way up to his face. It was one that she recognized and had known from an early age. A man, once loyal to her father and now loyal only to the Usurper. "I'm not going back with you," she said, trying to keep her quavering voice steady as she pressed her back to the trunk of a tree. She was unable to stand just yet, her ankle throbbing. "It doesn't look like you have much of a choice..." the traitor said, sheathing his sword and approaching her, intent on dragging her back to her uncle.
"No . . ." She had nothing to defend herself with, except for her own to hands. Grappling with him, she aimed hits at whatever piexe of his body that she could find, to no avail. He was nearly three times her size and likely ten times as strong. He lifted her over his shoulder as if she were nothing, ignoring ever hit, scratch, and kick. "NO!"
Just the thought of Benjen made Lydia shudder. All the years that she had trusted her uncle . . . all the years that her father had trusted him, and yet he . . . She didn't even want to think about it. The last thing she wanted was to get sick during her ride.
Aerys never allowed his sister to run off on her own and, in all honesty, she didn't blame him the slightest bit. Lydia may have known how to wield a sword, but knowing that there was always someone there to watch her back was of great comfort to her. Besides, it wasn't often that she went off on her own. However, there were always times that she just needed to get away from camp and away from the talk of war.
Surely war was inevitable, but knowing that her brother would be the man at the front of the line and the man who would likely cut down the false king . . . it sent chills down her spine. They had already lost Leo and Lucy, not having the slightest clue as to where either of them were. For all they knew, the youngest of the Baratheons could have been back in Everard, beneath the half-ruined city. With Leopold gone, if something were to happen to Aerys, Lydia would be next in line for the throne. It was exactly what Benjen wanted. If he were to marry her then there would be no denying his claim.
"Are you alright, your highness?" came the small voice of Ariana, Lydia's only remaining lady-in-waiting. Though Ariana was a nice enough girl, the two had never quite seen eye to eye. Ariana was much too traditional for her taste. Though she had attempted a close-knit friendship, Ariana always seemed to be fearful of Lydia's rank. Still, even if they weren't the best of friends, they were friends just the same. Ariana had never been one for adventure though, so there was little that the princess could tell her that she could understand. The yearof harships had brought them closer, or as close as they were going to get.
Snapping out of her reverie, Lydia turned her warm, brown eyes toward the girl. Ariana was close to her own age, though shorter and somewhat squat. Her face was a pretty one though, her hair blonde in color. "Nothing . . . I was only thinking," Lydia responded. She didn't want to discuss her uncle's plans to marry her with anyone. Although, from the way Aerys looked at her whenever Benjen was the topic of discussion, she suspected that he knew already.
There was not much that the princess could do about her current predicament though. If something were to happen to her, then Benjen would only turn his attention to Lenore or, even worse, Lucille. As sickening as that thought was, she wouldn't put it past the man, not after what he had divulged to her.
They had wandered somewhat far from the camp, far enough that she could no longer hear the sound of horses neighing and drunken soldiers laughing boisterously by the fire. They were quickly approaching their destination, the tower being perhaps only a day or two's ride east.
Lydia's breath hung heavily in the cold air, visible and swirling before her. Other than the sound of the horses' hooves and their heavy snorts, the forest was silent. The autumn sky was darkening, a sign that Aerys would soon be expecting them. She knew that, if they didn't head back in time, he would soon send a number of men out in search of her party. Fat flakes of snow started to flutter from the sky above. As a few flakes landed in her hair, Lydia's eyes turned skyward, a sigh escaping her lips. Winter was coming. Though she had once welcomed the beautiful snowfalls and the chill in the air, she had not had to worry about her younger brother and sister seeking shelter in such conditions.
As the horse beneath her came to a halt, so did the horses of Arian and the guard who had escorted them on their ride. "Nightfall is approaching, princess. King Aerys will b expecting us back at camp." The soldier's voice was a deep one, ringing with truth. He had always ben a faithful man to her father and was, in turn, one of Aerys's most trusted men, going by the name of Vincent Crowe.
"He worries too much . . ." Lydia said with a sigh, pulling on her gelding's reins and turning him in the direction that they had come from. "With good reason," Crowe responded. Knowing that what he said was true, Lydia chose not to argue. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold and she was eager to be warm once more. The cloak that she wore over her green and gold dress could only do so much. Her curly hair, as per usual, was wild and free, though she had half a mind to pull her hood up to shield her from the snowflakes, as well as to cover her reddening ears from the cold.
"What was that?" she asked, startled and staring past Crowe. "Your highness?" he asked, bewildered. She pointed past him and his eyes followed. "I see nothing, princess. Perhaps it was a shadow?"
"No . . ." she said, somewhat disturbed. Ariana was just as ancy beside her, looking from her and then back to Vincent. "I'm telling you, I saw something."
Crowe merely nodded. "If it pleases you, your highness, I will search for the source of your discomfort." Once she nodded her head in response, he turned his horse and headed back to where she swore she had scene a figure crossing the road. "What do you think it is?" asked Ariana, her nervousness palpable.
Lydia shook her head, looking to the girl. "I can't be sure." A wretched sound echoed through the trees, coming from up ahead, and Lydia's attention snapped to the place up the road, where Crowe had fallen from his horse. Urging her horse forward, Ariana hot on her heels, Lydia slid from her horse and rushed to the man's side, turning his heavy body over.
He was already dead. An arrow to the chest and another to the neck had done him in. The words that came from the princess's lips were incomprehensible, even to her. "What?" Ariana urged her, from atop her horse. "RUN!"
The girl didn't need telling twice. As Lydia flung herself onto her own horse, Ariana was already galloping past. In the moment of panic, there was no telling which way was which, so all Lydia could do was follow after her friend.
The ground was already covered in a thin layer of snow. The sound of arrows shooting through the air echoed in her ears. Leaning low on her gelding and counting heavily on not being hit, Lydia could feel her heart nearly pounding out of her chest in pure terror. Another thwack sounded through the air and her horse reared.
Even if Lydia had been able to maintain her hold on the horse, it would have been useless. Both princess and animal went tumbling, rather painfully. The horse narrowly missed landing upon her and laid upon his side, crying in pain as he was slowly dying. A number of arrows stuck out of his massive body.
Crawling away, her bodyaching from the fall, Lydia tried to seek out cover from the reign of arrows. "Lydia!" Ariana shouted, dismounting her own horse to rush to the princess's aid. "No, Ari, don-"
The sound of steel on flesh made Lydia sick to her stomach. "NO!" she cried out Ariana's head rolling toward her and hitting her foot. Bile rose in her throat and she groped for her sword, which was much lighter and eadier to wield for her than most. Her heart may as well have stopped when she realized that her sword was no longer by her side and, instead, lay half hidden beneath her now dead horse.
Ariana's blood dripped from the man's longsword as Lydia looked from it, all the way up to his face. It was one that she recognized and had known from an early age. A man, once loyal to her father and now loyal only to the Usurper. "I'm not going back with you," she said, trying to keep her quavering voice steady as she pressed her back to the trunk of a tree. She was unable to stand just yet, her ankle throbbing. "It doesn't look like you have much of a choice..." the traitor said, sheathing his sword and approaching her, intent on dragging her back to her uncle.
"No . . ." She had nothing to defend herself with, except for her own to hands. Grappling with him, she aimed hits at whatever piexe of his body that she could find, to no avail. He was nearly three times her size and likely ten times as strong. He lifted her over his shoulder as if she were nothing, ignoring ever hit, scratch, and kick. "NO!"
1,574 WORDS FOR THOMAS ORPHEUS NELSON
