CharcoalSkeleton
Bag of Bones
A role play with Luxii.
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The Princess and the Knight.
- Thread starter CharcoalSkeleton
- Start date
Luxii
Mother of Kitties
Victoria hardly recognized the girl staring back at her through the mirror. Her waist was so incredibly small, all in thanks to the corset that laced her within an inch of her life. The collar of her sweeping gown dipped low, passed her collarbones, and rested barely atop her breasts. The fullness of the skirts added to the illusion of an impossible hourglass shape; the bodice sparkled with more diamonds than most men made in a year. The blinding whiteness of it all sharply contrasted the darkness of her hair and eyes, while at the same time complimenting the pale expanses of her exposed skin. She looked so much older than her 18 years.
The seamstress mistook the wetness in the girl's eyes for joy. "Oh, Your Majesty," she murmured, as much as she could with a swath of straight pins between her teeth, "You will make the most beautiful bride anyone has ever seen! Prince Tyrion must certainly be the luckiest man in the kingdom!"
The lump in her throat was hard to swallow, and Victoria blinked away the burning in the back of her eyes. "Thank you, Gina," she said graciously, "Your words are much too kind."
Gina bustled around the younger woman, her deft hands tactfully placing the last few pins, tucking fabric here and there until she was satisfied. Everything had to be perfect. This was after all the biggest wedding since Victoria's mother had wed, and that was decades ago. The entire royal family was to be on display, but Victoria had to shine the brightest of them all.
"There, I think that's it. What do you think, princess?"
"It is beautiful, Gina. Thank you." Her wane smile didn't reach her eyes. This wasn't at all how a bride was supposed to feel two days before her wedding night. "Do you need me for anything else?"
The seamstress shook her head, tight grey curls swinging. "Oh no, princess, not at all! You must have so much else to do before the big day. Let me help you out of your gown and you can be on your way!"
It took a few moments to extricate Victoria from the massive wedding gown, but Gina's quick hands had the princess laced into her much plainer dress in no time at all. She curtsied towards the older woman by way of thanks and ventured out into the hallway.
The palace was in full display of pomp and splendor for the wedding. Vibrant red and gold clothes spanned the walls - celebration colors. They should be black. Victoria's bitter thoughts were starting to get the best of her.
She hadn't tried to hide her disdain for Prince Tyrion, nor he his for her. Anyone in the kingdom could tell you tales of the young prince's cruelty. After the death of his father, he had made a terrible name for himself in the kingdom to the west. This alliance between kingdom's was merely a formality; Tyrion's army could have overwhelmed their smaller neighbors. It had been Tyrion's mother who had suggested the union. She had been a childhood friend of Victoria's own mother, who had died in childbirth.
Victoria made it to her chambers without seeing anyone, thank goodness. She bolted the door behind her and sank onto her bed. The burning in her eyes was back. Through the mistiness in her vision, she noticed a folded piece of parchment on her nightstand, but she did not recognize the seal. The wax was easily peeled back, and the paper unfolded. Inside, a message in hastily scrawled handwriting: Princess, Prince Tyrion would see you dead after your wedding night - trust no one.
The seamstress mistook the wetness in the girl's eyes for joy. "Oh, Your Majesty," she murmured, as much as she could with a swath of straight pins between her teeth, "You will make the most beautiful bride anyone has ever seen! Prince Tyrion must certainly be the luckiest man in the kingdom!"
The lump in her throat was hard to swallow, and Victoria blinked away the burning in the back of her eyes. "Thank you, Gina," she said graciously, "Your words are much too kind."
Gina bustled around the younger woman, her deft hands tactfully placing the last few pins, tucking fabric here and there until she was satisfied. Everything had to be perfect. This was after all the biggest wedding since Victoria's mother had wed, and that was decades ago. The entire royal family was to be on display, but Victoria had to shine the brightest of them all.
"There, I think that's it. What do you think, princess?"
"It is beautiful, Gina. Thank you." Her wane smile didn't reach her eyes. This wasn't at all how a bride was supposed to feel two days before her wedding night. "Do you need me for anything else?"
The seamstress shook her head, tight grey curls swinging. "Oh no, princess, not at all! You must have so much else to do before the big day. Let me help you out of your gown and you can be on your way!"
It took a few moments to extricate Victoria from the massive wedding gown, but Gina's quick hands had the princess laced into her much plainer dress in no time at all. She curtsied towards the older woman by way of thanks and ventured out into the hallway.
The palace was in full display of pomp and splendor for the wedding. Vibrant red and gold clothes spanned the walls - celebration colors. They should be black. Victoria's bitter thoughts were starting to get the best of her.
She hadn't tried to hide her disdain for Prince Tyrion, nor he his for her. Anyone in the kingdom could tell you tales of the young prince's cruelty. After the death of his father, he had made a terrible name for himself in the kingdom to the west. This alliance between kingdom's was merely a formality; Tyrion's army could have overwhelmed their smaller neighbors. It had been Tyrion's mother who had suggested the union. She had been a childhood friend of Victoria's own mother, who had died in childbirth.
Victoria made it to her chambers without seeing anyone, thank goodness. She bolted the door behind her and sank onto her bed. The burning in her eyes was back. Through the mistiness in her vision, she noticed a folded piece of parchment on her nightstand, but she did not recognize the seal. The wax was easily peeled back, and the paper unfolded. Inside, a message in hastily scrawled handwriting: Princess, Prince Tyrion would see you dead after your wedding night - trust no one.
CharcoalSkeleton
Bag of Bones
((Sorry for the long wait. I'm going to use a picture for the armor. If you want to add a picture to show some scenery or something then that's fine.))
In the town there was a market place filled with vendors of many kinds. There were bakeries, tailors, trade shops, and a blacksmith that sold many swords and shields. A lone Knight by the name of Arc Chiv was looking around the blacksmith for a new sword. He broke his last sword in the forest when a bandit tried to take his money and Arc finished the bandit but broke his sword in the process. "Anything that caught your eye?" Asked the Blacksmith. Arc looked around and picked out a simple broad sword. "This sword should do just fine." he said to the blacksmith. Arc paid the blacksmith and went to get some more supplies before he makes his way to a different Kingdom. "Do you want to buy a new set of armor?" Asked the blacksmith. "Yours looks kinda old." Arc stopped as he was about to head out. He looked at his gauntlets and then back at the blacksmith. "No, this armor is just fine." Said Arc. Arc had an old Knight armor set, the helmet was silver plated that had been worn out over the years. It had a small design of a warrior fighting some sort of creature. His chest piece had a layer of leather and chain mail topped with a metal plating and his shoulders had a metal piece that were covered by a wolf's pelt to keep warm during cold nights. His boots and gauntlets were similar to his helmet, silver plated that aged over the years.
He left the blacksmith and stock up on food. He bought some bread and fruit for his travels and some wood so that he can have fuel for a fire. When he the supplies that he needed, he went out of the kingdom and into the forest.
In the town there was a market place filled with vendors of many kinds. There were bakeries, tailors, trade shops, and a blacksmith that sold many swords and shields. A lone Knight by the name of Arc Chiv was looking around the blacksmith for a new sword. He broke his last sword in the forest when a bandit tried to take his money and Arc finished the bandit but broke his sword in the process. "Anything that caught your eye?" Asked the Blacksmith. Arc looked around and picked out a simple broad sword. "This sword should do just fine." he said to the blacksmith. Arc paid the blacksmith and went to get some more supplies before he makes his way to a different Kingdom. "Do you want to buy a new set of armor?" Asked the blacksmith. "Yours looks kinda old." Arc stopped as he was about to head out. He looked at his gauntlets and then back at the blacksmith. "No, this armor is just fine." Said Arc. Arc had an old Knight armor set, the helmet was silver plated that had been worn out over the years. It had a small design of a warrior fighting some sort of creature. His chest piece had a layer of leather and chain mail topped with a metal plating and his shoulders had a metal piece that were covered by a wolf's pelt to keep warm during cold nights. His boots and gauntlets were similar to his helmet, silver plated that aged over the years.
He left the blacksmith and stock up on food. He bought some bread and fruit for his travels and some wood so that he can have fuel for a fire. When he the supplies that he needed, he went out of the kingdom and into the forest.
Luxii
Mother of Kitties
The letter shook Victoria to her core. The tales of Tyrion's ruthlessness were unparalleled, but this? Perhaps someone playing a cruel joke, she wondered, but that was unlikely.
It was another burden to add to the princess's shoulders. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth while she stared blankly at the parchment. There were not many she considered close friends here. To be truthful the games of the court were too complicated for Victoria to keep up with. She suspected many of her so-called "friends" only kept themselves close for their own benefit.
No one must see this.
The letter quickly went up in flames thanks to the roaring fireplace a few paces from her bed.
To pay heed to the letter or not? That was the question.
Prince Tyrion's entourage had arrived earlier that morning, but as custom would have it, she would not be able to see her betrothed until just before they were to be wed.
After the letter was no more than ash, Victoria returned to her bed. She sprawled out on her back, legs still hanging over the edge, her head a sea of ink against the sheets. She owed it to the people of her kingdom to see this through, warning or no warning. A peaceful marriage was a much better alternative to being crushed by the much more powerful kingdom to the west, although she wished it was not her that had to make the sacrifice.
xXx
The morning of the wedding was bright and sunny with a cool breeze. The perfect weather for getting married, most would say. Victoria felt like it was the morning of her funeral.
She spent all morning getting ready for the ceremony. She had been scrubbed, plucked, styled, and pinched within an inch of her life. Her hair, normally falling to her low back in soft waves, was pulled back into a low chignon. It was a plainer style that would make a good display for her crown later. The ladies-in-waiting oohed and ahhed over her wedding dress. It took two girls to lace her into it; Victoria was sure she would faint, they had pulled it so tight. The finishing touches to her makeup defined her dark eyes and enhanced the rosy-redness of her lips.
When she looked in the mirror for the final time, it made her tremble softly. She was beautiful. In another life she would have been so overjoyed, but instead she felt like she was headed to the gallows.
xXx
When the doors to the great hall opened, all of the chattering fell silent. Victoria was frozen. If she walked down that walkway, that was the end. There was a painful lump in her throat, but she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, gliding along just like her etiquette mistress had instructed.
The pulpit was before her far to quickly. Tyrion stood to the right with a smile on his face that did not reach his eyes. The prince was certainly handsome enough, but cruelly so. Victoria had to remember to keep her face blank and her eyes averted. No one would see her cry.
The ceremony was short, thankfully, and in minutes they were proclaimed husband and wife. Her first kiss with the ruthless prince made bile rise in her throat. He grasped the side of her neck just hard enough to make it known this was not a show of affection, but rather one of power. Their lips smashed together, and there were no fireworks or pleasant tingles that all of Victoria's ladies-in-waiting had talked about. She just felt nauseous.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
xXx
The wedding reception was the longest night of Victoria's life. Everyone had drunk far too much, the music was far too loud. She hadn't touched her food nor the cup of wine before her, but she did smile pleasantly at everyone who approached her and her new husband to wish them well.
As she looked around the room, she realized that she recognized none of the guards posted around the celebration hall. Odd...
A feeling of unease crept up the back of her neck. She quietly excused herself from the table. Tyrion's gaze burned hotly into her back, but she kept her posture straight until she exited the hall.
The corridor on the outside was dark. Also odd. There should've been torches lining the wall, but none of them were lit as they should've been. Something was definitely wrong.
In the darkness, she tripped, not on her dress but on something metal. A suit of armor. Victoria bent down to examine it. There shouldn't have been any suits of armor in this hallway...
She lifted the faceplate of the armor and froze. There was someone inside the armor. She fingers came away sticky and dark. Blood. Her other hand flew to her mouth to keep from screaming. Whomever had written the note for her two days ago had been right.
Sprinting in the heavy wedding dress wasn't easy, but Victoria made a beeline for her room. She had to escape or she knew she would die.
Once inside, she grabbed a dark blue, plain cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. Into a leather knapsack she stuffed two plainer dresses and a comfortable pair of shoes. Her heart was pounding, fingers trembling, mind racing. The stables were too risky, she would have to leave on foot.
The servant's corridors wouldn't be watched tonight. Victoria decided that would be the best path out of the castle. It took her almost ten minutes before she reached the outer wall of the castle. No doubt her absence was noticed and people would be looking for her soon.
Without a second glance back, she took off for the forest that surrounded the castle. She would be able to stay out of sight there hopefully until things settled down.
It seemed like she walked for hours, just heading to the north. Darkness made it hard to see; she tripped constantly over branches and tree roots. Finally, once she was sure she was a safe distance away, she collapsed against a tree. The adrenaline rush had left her long ago and she was exhausted. Sleep claimed her quickly.
It was another burden to add to the princess's shoulders. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth while she stared blankly at the parchment. There were not many she considered close friends here. To be truthful the games of the court were too complicated for Victoria to keep up with. She suspected many of her so-called "friends" only kept themselves close for their own benefit.
No one must see this.
The letter quickly went up in flames thanks to the roaring fireplace a few paces from her bed.
To pay heed to the letter or not? That was the question.
Prince Tyrion's entourage had arrived earlier that morning, but as custom would have it, she would not be able to see her betrothed until just before they were to be wed.
After the letter was no more than ash, Victoria returned to her bed. She sprawled out on her back, legs still hanging over the edge, her head a sea of ink against the sheets. She owed it to the people of her kingdom to see this through, warning or no warning. A peaceful marriage was a much better alternative to being crushed by the much more powerful kingdom to the west, although she wished it was not her that had to make the sacrifice.
xXx
The morning of the wedding was bright and sunny with a cool breeze. The perfect weather for getting married, most would say. Victoria felt like it was the morning of her funeral.
She spent all morning getting ready for the ceremony. She had been scrubbed, plucked, styled, and pinched within an inch of her life. Her hair, normally falling to her low back in soft waves, was pulled back into a low chignon. It was a plainer style that would make a good display for her crown later. The ladies-in-waiting oohed and ahhed over her wedding dress. It took two girls to lace her into it; Victoria was sure she would faint, they had pulled it so tight. The finishing touches to her makeup defined her dark eyes and enhanced the rosy-redness of her lips.
When she looked in the mirror for the final time, it made her tremble softly. She was beautiful. In another life she would have been so overjoyed, but instead she felt like she was headed to the gallows.
xXx
When the doors to the great hall opened, all of the chattering fell silent. Victoria was frozen. If she walked down that walkway, that was the end. There was a painful lump in her throat, but she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, gliding along just like her etiquette mistress had instructed.
The pulpit was before her far to quickly. Tyrion stood to the right with a smile on his face that did not reach his eyes. The prince was certainly handsome enough, but cruelly so. Victoria had to remember to keep her face blank and her eyes averted. No one would see her cry.
The ceremony was short, thankfully, and in minutes they were proclaimed husband and wife. Her first kiss with the ruthless prince made bile rise in her throat. He grasped the side of her neck just hard enough to make it known this was not a show of affection, but rather one of power. Their lips smashed together, and there were no fireworks or pleasant tingles that all of Victoria's ladies-in-waiting had talked about. She just felt nauseous.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
xXx
The wedding reception was the longest night of Victoria's life. Everyone had drunk far too much, the music was far too loud. She hadn't touched her food nor the cup of wine before her, but she did smile pleasantly at everyone who approached her and her new husband to wish them well.
As she looked around the room, she realized that she recognized none of the guards posted around the celebration hall. Odd...
A feeling of unease crept up the back of her neck. She quietly excused herself from the table. Tyrion's gaze burned hotly into her back, but she kept her posture straight until she exited the hall.
The corridor on the outside was dark. Also odd. There should've been torches lining the wall, but none of them were lit as they should've been. Something was definitely wrong.
In the darkness, she tripped, not on her dress but on something metal. A suit of armor. Victoria bent down to examine it. There shouldn't have been any suits of armor in this hallway...
She lifted the faceplate of the armor and froze. There was someone inside the armor. She fingers came away sticky and dark. Blood. Her other hand flew to her mouth to keep from screaming. Whomever had written the note for her two days ago had been right.
Sprinting in the heavy wedding dress wasn't easy, but Victoria made a beeline for her room. She had to escape or she knew she would die.
Once inside, she grabbed a dark blue, plain cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. Into a leather knapsack she stuffed two plainer dresses and a comfortable pair of shoes. Her heart was pounding, fingers trembling, mind racing. The stables were too risky, she would have to leave on foot.
The servant's corridors wouldn't be watched tonight. Victoria decided that would be the best path out of the castle. It took her almost ten minutes before she reached the outer wall of the castle. No doubt her absence was noticed and people would be looking for her soon.
Without a second glance back, she took off for the forest that surrounded the castle. She would be able to stay out of sight there hopefully until things settled down.
It seemed like she walked for hours, just heading to the north. Darkness made it hard to see; she tripped constantly over branches and tree roots. Finally, once she was sure she was a safe distance away, she collapsed against a tree. The adrenaline rush had left her long ago and she was exhausted. Sleep claimed her quickly.
CharcoalSkeleton
Bag of Bones
Arc stopped in the middle of the forest to take a break, he started a fire so that he could get warmed up again. It sat down on the ground and laid his sword at his right side and took off his helmet and took out a piece of bread from his bag. Laying his helmet next to his sword, he started eating. The sun was down and the forest was dark and cold. Arc kept looking around him to see if anyone was around, he didn't feel like fighting anyone. As Arc sat by the fire, he herd footsteps running behind him. He turned around and didn't see anyone near him and the footsteps slowly faded away, he shrugged and put his helmet back on. Arc lit a torch as he put out the fire, picked up his sword and continued his way to the next kingdom. He walked for another hour or so and herd some noises around him. He raised his torch and looked around but he didn't see anyone so Arc kept walking as he took his sword out. When he walked a couple more steps in front of him, keeping his sword out as his torch light the way, he notice a body next to a tree. Arc took a closer look, bringing the torch to the body, and saw that it was a women who looked like she is sleeping.
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