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ircnlady · 5 years

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giselle had never been quiet on her admiration of things , and animals were truly one of the things she loved the most . smiling brightly up at the queen , the french princess spoke up once more . ❝ oh ? i see . well , i’ve always enjoyed animals myself . though i must admit none of mine are so big as this darling . have you any yourself ? ❞

‘ indeed, i had a great many as a girl. my father used to make a joke of it, call me skjora ––– magpie. it was as if i collected them; wherever i went the animals seemed to follow, ’ anine recalled, her dark eyes dreamy and swept in the tide of memory. images of childhood flickered before her for a brief moment, though the queen managed to pull herself back to reality with the softest of smiles. ‘ it feels as though it were a lifetime ago. ’

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ircnlady · 5 years

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a verdant stare observes and dissects ; she is a WOMAN KING at the helm of battle. && it is a dishonor to condemn her to a space of secrecy. his men look on in peculiar bewilderment, their synapses brimming with disquiet. it’s a form of illegality he fails to respect –– a classless offense he supposes aristocratic values cannot fathom. but he is roguish rabble, and exists to tempt the boundaries. by the time his soldier swings his sword the way you would a ponderous battle axe, he bears no faith in an exacting victory. they underestimate her skill –– their lacerating gaze harboring more interest in the act of unlacing garments than calculating footwork. && she’s going to demolish him for it. she moves with honed fluidity, each motion a corresponding compliment of the last. what she lacks in brute strength is made up thrice in a swift silhouette. rapid and deliberate, a mountainous man is brought down, spine crashing to earth. the outskirt’s prowling wolves are a mixture of howling laughter and apprehensive glances. until her mouth parts to scathe the man through czech teeth, he is the amused alpha leading the pack.

but it fades ; an echoing chuckle executed by reignited recollection. a mental defense scrabbles to repair sudden detachment, to rebuild the tomb where the wounded shrapnel of cerebrum resides. perhaps if he shut his eyes, a tome will take her rapier’s place, and her rebellious chapters can lull him back to contented death. she did not play the part of his JUDGE JURY EXECUTIONER, but lived to glimpse the conclusion of its censure ; his broken body && bruised soul result of strategic sacrifice. his voice, now altered by a personal dose of pandemonium, dismisses all but her upon gruff command. ❛ congratulations, ❜ he carps, toe of his boot granting the felled participant’s a sharp jab, ❛ you’ve been demoted. ❜ apathetic irises ensnare her. he should depart himself, before she’s armed with acute awareness of the beacon of benevolence she’d been for a tortured man. she is a daughter of bohemia ; adversary && savior. yet he studies with intense resolve, her striking features no longer a mirage of shadowed cells. ❛ byl jsem mrtvý než jsi dokončil tu knihu. ❜

combination of tunnel vision and rage are quick to dissipate, and she’s summoned back into her body without a moments notice. viridescent eyes shift uneasily around the canopied clearing, the thunderous cries of wolves and the baring of teeth overwhelming the senses. there was cold comfort in victory, it seemed. could she even enjoy the taste of it on her tongue? she slowly turns, gaze eventually captured by his own; verdant hues a sort of anchor for nikita as she steadies jagged breath. he draws her in with nothing more than that. the silence between them, all at once, is soft like velveteen.

brows knit together at the sound of her native tongue ––– while the mind recognized each word that fell from his lips, the ear was fooled by muddled cadence. vagabond intonations play on natural curiosities, piqued for future questioning; something recognizably heavy stirs within her chest, and she holds no doubts about such an instance in their futures. ‘ o čem to mluvíš? ’ she asks of him, with a conjured ignorance splayed across her features. though, it was in narrowed eyes that such deception faltered, various suspicions already plaguing mind and memory. there had been so many faces ––– while she considered herself apt at recollection, it appeared his face had, for a time, slipped from her mind as water would from fingers. nikita steps forward, slowly moving to close the gap which stood between them. eyes remain narrowed as she stands before him, and a coldness seeps into her bones as the floodgates of memory are freed. the mind is hazy yet, but there is a place for him in it’s depths.

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