A Melody of Thrones [Will & Wisti]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Wistful Dream on 06-07-2010, 06:57:34</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>A Melody of Thrones [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>06-07-2010, 06:57:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Salt tanged in the air that she inhaled, her body swaying slightly with the tease of a breeze that moved through the night, her head tilting back to savor the cool dusk of twilight's end with her eyes closed and her mind centered within her. She breathed it out again, a smile touching the nearly too full lushness of her lips and softening the exotic, striking planes of her face. The young woman's hands rose then at her sides, wrists slightly bent and graceful as butterflies in flight, to the beat of her heart and a music only she could hear she raised them flowing in runic type motions above her head and then when the backs of her two hands touched her legs moved beneath her, one leg sweeping out as she started her dance. Her booted feet moved soundlessly on the wooden planks that made up the deck beneath her, hardly touching the surface as the ship swayed and creaked with the gentle touches of the waves. She moved instinctively, it was something that was inside every human, this dance, the one of the heart, and yet so few could find it. <br><br>Knowing it, how to reach that place inside her and let it flow out was what made her one of the great ones, even as young as she was. Though she had been the student of the Master Bard of Gwiv, and his teaching showed. <br><br>Lealita Keroln was aware that others were most likely watching her but she didn't care, they often did, when she danced and it was something that she did for a living, though this dance was nothing she would perform before large gatherings. This was the centering of who and what she was, this was communion with her own soul beneath the light of the climbing disc shaped moon in the sky above her. Some, she knew, would be angry to have others watching something that was so utterly personal, and given her temper she was sure a few of those who covertly watched her from shadowy places or positions of 'business' on the other parts of the ship feared the lashing of her rather caustic tongue at times. But this she did not mind sharing, this fire, this knowledge and depth of self was something that Tyis, the Master Bard, had taught her to find and pull out from within herself when she danced for others or sang or told a tale, whenever she performed she shared some part of the fire of her soul. <br><br><em>Live your life with the passion in your heart and near fear others seeing it, never hold back from that for it is our strength. The intensity of our dances, of our tales and songs, that is what draws people to a good Bard, what holds them and keeps them aching for more. Most will never know that intensity in their own lives and so share it...</em><br><br>The words, spoken time and again, the first lesson and the last of her mentor, filled her mind as she moved, feet shifting and hands rising and falling, waves to a shore, clouds drifting across the sky, flower petals waving in the wind. She was a leaf upon the night breeze, letting it take her where it willed and savoring the experience, the journey. Lita inhaled again, deep and then released it, spinning in her dance and moving faster, her hips swaying, body undulating in a manner that mimicked waves just as her hands had, her dance had no logic to it, no reason. She knew dances from the Empire of Lerin, from the exotic Five Cities, from the fierce Aal and the Holy Merisso, from mysterious Raolith and fierce Fereshard; from all the corners of the world had she studied her craft and this dance of soul melded it all together into one being that was her, that spoke of her to any who could understand it. Not that anyone did, she thought sadly coming to what felt like the natural climax to her dance and moving into the ending motions of it, the only one that could have read all the unspoken truths shared in her movements had passed two years before, Tyis. <br><br>Coming out of the trance like haze of her dance she was aware of the humming of her muscles, pushed by her exercise, of the sweat that slicked her brow and teased along the nape of her exposed neck for she had put her long dark hair up in a bun before beginning. She shook her head at herself with a sigh, thinking it was foolish to still miss her mentor so and reached to pick up the towel she had placed ontop of a convenient barrel a good space from the six or so clear feet of her chosen dance space. After wiping at the back of her neck she let down the heavy wealth that was her raven black hair, letting it fall unbound to her waist as her blue violet eyes, eerily pale in the darkening night swept over the lower deck and the one at the rear of the ship, seeking her traveling companion and wondering if his stomach still plagued him. William, the mysterious gentleman mercenary, too noble for his own good or her's; he had come up to the deck when they had been about to land in Lisenia and sought the aid of the Witches of the Water Coven, now they were about to make land in Réthir, a decently sized port town in south eastern Dalias, a country she had never had any desire to return to. Her birth country. <br><br>And now here she was, trapped by a spell laid by the Water Elder to keep her at the merc's side until she saw him safely to the capital. Odd that, to send a five foot two petite woman to 'aid' a tall, well muscled warrior in getting safely to a city of a mostly peaceful country. But the spell was there all the same and there was no avoiding it; nor had there been a way for William to avoid her anger those first few days after the blasted thing had been laid and he had avoided her the past two. Now land was no more then a half a mark's time away and she wondered if they could make peace before her homeland would make her prickly and hostile all over again. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Melody of Thrones [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>18-07-2010, 23:09:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There certainly were a handful of people watching Lita as she centered herself in preparation for their debarking.&nbsp; William was one of them.&nbsp; It was only recently that his stomach had ceased its raging enough for him to make it up on deck.&nbsp; It seemed that he would never become accustomed to sea travel, no matter how many times he found himself on a ship.&nbsp; This vessel was larger than the last, which helped, but even so he had spent the majority of the voyage to Dalias in a pathetic heap.&nbsp; It wasn't the first time Lita had seen him that way, which was unfortunate, but it eased his embarrassment at least a bit.&nbsp; Even now, he wore a sickly pallor and leaned against the railing of the boat.&nbsp; His legs were far from steady.<br><br>It was easy to forget about things like that though, watching Lita dance.&nbsp; She was truly gifted.&nbsp; William hadn't seen anyone so talented, and that was saying something.&nbsp; Growing up in the royal court of Ihevsen meant that he had seen some of the finest entertainers Solana had to offer.&nbsp; He hadn't always been a mercenary, after all.<br><br>William was a prince, in truth, though in name alone now.&nbsp; The Lerin Empire had taken much from many, and he had suffered very little compared to most.&nbsp; At least he lived.&nbsp; How many did not, now?&nbsp; Lerin had engulfed his family's kingdom and made a mockery of their rule.&nbsp; How many had they put to death by this time?&nbsp; The letters from his cousin he had received in the Five Cities painted a bleak portrait.&nbsp; It had been some time since Sarai had sent news to him through her noble father, as even that had become too dangerous.&nbsp; No one in Ihevsen could risk being connected to the traitorous outlaw prince.&nbsp; If only they knew the truth of the Empire, they would rise up against their oppressors themselves.<br><br>And be crushed in gruesome fashion, of course.<br><br>William would free his people.&nbsp; He was sure of it.&nbsp; Someone would aid him, somewhere, once he told them of the evil brewing on his home continent.&nbsp; He had to believe that.&nbsp; But for now, he was a wanted criminal, and so he hid amongst the masses.<br><br>The docks of Réthir were approaching quickly, sliding along towards them from the horizon with promises of blessedly solid ground.&nbsp; William let out a sigh of relief and watched Lita finish up her dance.&nbsp; How would she react if she knew who he was?&nbsp; She hated nobles, for reasons of her own.&nbsp; Likely she would leave him behind at her first opportunity, as soon as the geas was lifted.&nbsp; She would likely do that anyway.&nbsp; That thought depressed William; it had been very pleasant to be traveling with someone for a change.&nbsp; What few moments of civility they'd had had been nice.&nbsp; Telling her who he was would ruin that small amount of enjoyment.&nbsp; No, he would keep that bit of information to himself for the moment.&nbsp; It had nothing to do with her anyway.&nbsp; Still, why did he find himself compelled to be so honest with the girl?<br><br>As the ship docked, William drew a long breath and gathered himself, pushing off of the railing and uttering a silent prayer that he could remain standing.&nbsp; He adjusted the rapier at his side beneath his cloak and pulled the hood over his head; there was no need for everyone in Réthir to see what sort of shape he was in.&nbsp; There was no need to wait on the captain this time; the Coven had seen to the costs of their passage.&nbsp; Which was well, considering the lightness of William's pockets.<br><br>He did pause at the gangplank though, turning and waiting for Lita.&nbsp; She seemed to take offense at his courtliness, but he could as easily turn the sun blue as shake his upbringing.&nbsp; He looked down as he waited for her to go first, sighing and imagining the scowl she must have worn for him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Melody of Thrones [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>19-07-2010, 00:22:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Even in the dark she knew it was William when her eyes settled on a dark figure waiting near the ramp that would lead down to the actual dock itself and into the land. It was the way he held himself, unique to him. Strong and loose a warrior who knew the dangers of the world, and yet there was always that reserve around him that made her think he had to have been well raised. A merchants son? No, he didn't have anything that made her think of craftsmen, though perhaps a well off one. William was a mystery to her, even in the clear light of day and waiting, standing here to gaze at his shadowed figure in the early night wouldn't give her any sort of answers. <br><br>So with a sigh Lita bent and picked up her rucksack, a object that was nearly as big as she was and certainly near her own body weight; it held her life in it, for the great bard, the good ones never stayed anywhere and she couldn't imagine life as some court pet. She had been offered the chances, hundreds of times in hundreds of cities and countries but every single time she had turned it down. <br><br>The straps slid onto her shoulders and she wound up her hair in a haste knot before striding across the deck, her graceful stride unaffected on land or sea to pass the waiting figure of the tall mercenary she had found herself tangled with. His eyes were fixed downward and she felt her lips compress at that, knowing that he expected her to be angry that he waited for her. But she was getting use to it, to his manners, oddly enough. She didn't resent them and hate them like she would have from a noble, but then he wasn't a noble, he was just a merc and about her station in life. That he wanted to be respectful and polite was something she had not believed at first and flat out disbelieved, it was why she had been so angry with him at first. Now she realized, after three months of traveling together that it wasn't that he didn't think she couldn't take care of herself, it was just his way showing that he respected her. Odd the things one could learn traveling. <br><br>Frustrated at him for being so stubbornly polite and herself for not understanding it at first she did storm down the gangplank, her boots hitting the dock and not pausing. He had longer legs then her it wouldn't take him but a moment to catch up with her unless she was running. Then she was faster, thanks to her slight lean build. Réthir lay before them, the very shape of the architecture telling her she had come back to Dalais, houses tall and elegant with scroll work decorative patterns worked into things, flourishes, not knot work like one would see in Fereshard or Lynn. The streets that would wait for them once they got out of the port area would be cobbled with gray stones and....all the details, all the memories. <br><br>She didn't want anything to do with them, with this country. At least they would not be doing Adrue'lé, the metropolitan city where she had grown up, where her mother had died. And where the Lord of the City's heir had taken her captive against her will and used anger to seduce her and have her fall into his bed. <br><br>Since that night she had not set foot in Dalais and now she was back, geas bound and with a man who would never understand why she hated the land of her birth. He would figure it out, she was sure, her features had the striking high cheek bones of the country, her eyes a color found here. The once too perfect line of her nose was happily broken by the slight bump from when she had broken it in a tavern brawl. Her golden skin, too full lips and the tilt of her eyes were all from the deep south of Mina though. What would William understand of being woman and female, of being bastard born and unable to bring charges against the man who had taken her and turned her no into silence. The familiar anger filled her, stiffening her shoulders as she reached the stone paved streets and paused to wait for him. <br><br>"They should have blasted well left me alone..." she muttered savagely to herself, thinking of the Coven. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Melody of Thrones [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 19:44:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				William followed after her as she stepped briskly onto the dock and walked on, and he did indeed catch up rather quickly.&nbsp; He still said nothing, however, simply following at a safe distance and casting glances around the harbor now and again.&nbsp; William was not one to relax in public; danger had found him in the strangest of places.&nbsp; Even the cloak would be a poor safeguard if someone were here looking for him.&nbsp; And as though his own safety weren't enough to worry over, now he had a companion, and even as formidable as she was in a fight, Lita could be overwhelmed by numbers just as easily as he.<br><br>Even worse than the fear of getting her killed, though, was the guilt that he could not truly warn her in any effective way.&nbsp; And so he was watchful enough for both of them.<br><br>They walked at the same rapid pace that she had set, her steps hard and percussive with the simmering anger that William had seen in her so often.&nbsp; He knew well not to press her when she grew irritable, and so he just followed.&nbsp; Soon they were approaching the stables, more of a collection of individual operators combined into one large enclosure.&nbsp; It kept the typical stench of the horses to one section of Réthir, and its immediate surroundings.&nbsp; William was not surprised, but he was a bit disappointed.&nbsp; They had acquired horses more than once on their journey already, and it had been a blessing every time, but William loathed the thought of depending on Lita's purse any more.&nbsp; And what made it even worse, was that the times before she had at least had the choice of helping him.&nbsp; Now she had no choice whatsoever.&nbsp; William considered suggesting that they walk, but he could swear he heard her muttering something under her breath, and let it drop.&nbsp; Perhaps they could share a horse?<br><br>William couldn't help himself, and laughed out loud at that thought.&nbsp; Clearing his throat hard, he gestured toward the nearest trader's stable.&nbsp; "Well, I suppose we'll start here?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Melody of Thrones [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>14-09-2010, 07:43:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She had led them by memory, for she had been in this city before though not since Tyis had been her mentor, still the greatest living bard known to the world and welcomed everywhere, even in Imperial lands; still her memory was true as it ever was, perhaps some natural knack or perhaps because of her lessons from the man. In the Five Cities when they had found themselves in trouble she had led them to a woman who had been cousin to Tyis, now she led them to a stable and a Master of the Horse who had been like a brother to her mentor and in many ways the man who had been the father she had never known. It was familiar, the scent of straw and horse dung, of well oiled leather and horseflesh; she breathed it remembering the tale of how she had actually been born in a stable; perhaps that was why she loved them so much. Certainly it eased something within her, as much as anything could when she was on Dalias land. <br><br>Lita lifted her gaze to meet Wiliam's, tilting her head back to look up at him and blinked surprised at his laugh. He likely wouldn't tell her what it had been, the man was stubborn about keeping his thoughts to himself and even as he had learned when to avoid her anger she had learned it was pointless to ask him questions about something he did not freely volunteer. Perhaps he had been a murderer or something of the like, to be so secretive, so on edge all the time. Or mayhap just a too skilled thief. But even as those ideas came she dismissed them, they weren't him, not the moral bound man who had been her companion for the twelve score weeks they had spent together. <br><br>His hand at the nearest stable earned a slightly arched brow and a shake of her head. "Worthless, that's Re'ran's stable, he's a cheat and doesn't sell anything worth having." She moved past it, trusting him to keep up. He didn't like to talk about the past and he was not the only one, each step felt like a step toward the gallows. She did not want to be here but the spells that bound her to him were sure tight things, she had tried to push them even on the small isle of Lisenia where the Water Witch's Coven lay, and it was there she found she could be no further then perhaps fifty yards from him without filling ill and nearly fainting. Lealita Kero'ln did many things but fainting sure as Flames was not one of them. So instead she passed the first five of the stables to go to one that was more compact then the others, but also more sturdy. <br><br>A sign hung over the door, a dancing cat upon it along with a engraved name "The Kicking Kitty", how in the world such a somber man as Ki'eral had chosen the name of his stable she had no idea but he was one of the best and who Tyis had so often gone to. The scents of horseflesh and straw became stronger as she stepped into the dim golden lighting of the stable and glanced around. "Jeaunt Ki'eral?" <br><br>Her performers voice lifted easily to be heard, pitched just right for the space and the horses, plenty of them for the stable was long rather then wide, stirred and paced in their stalls. A stable lad peeked out from up in the loft that ran along the tops of the horses stable, smart that, the hay was stored up there and it made for a neater arrangement and easy to get into each stall. The tack room was a few yards away, candles on glowing inside and at her words a man stood, stretching tall like a giant as he came out into the stable itself, he was paler of skin then the bardess, with a beard gone silver and only touches of black remaining though the beard itself was carefully tended and elegant, his head was bald with woad like tattoos upon it in green and purple inks. His dark eyes when the rested on the woman who had called his name seemed surprised and then the somber expression broke into a laugh, a great sound like the baying of wolves as he shook his head. <br><br>"Lita-lass, is that you in truth? Curse it you swore on the Flames and all that was holy you'd not be setting foot again on this soil last I saw you." Lealita sighed inwardly and shrugged off her rucksack just in time as the giant of a man caught her up in a hug and their vast height differences came glaring apparent, she was just two inches over five feet and this man neared seven. <br><br>"Yes well apparently the gods feel the need to prod me into not keeping such oaths so here I am bound at the mercy of a geas that the Witches said was needful." Oh the ire in her voice but it was resigned and a bit playful, her anger deflated as the man hugged her and she returned it, her feet not touching the ground till he set her down again. Then of course the man had to ruffle her hair, the bard gritted her teeth and withstood it in silence, though it was a slim thing. <br><br>"Well glad I am then Lita-lass, its been far too long since we last spoke. Though I figure if you are here its not a matter of pleasure is it?" His eyes, a deep dark brown flickered to William, the cheekbones so similar to her own, the stamp of Dalias noble blood, for Jeaunt was another bastard born as she, seemed stronger on a man but even with the grave beauty that touched the Master of Horse there was no mistaking the power in him, nor the wariness of the stranger in tow with her. <br><br>"Ack don't glower at him, William's not a bad man, decent enough, traveled together since before it turned to the earth season." That had been in late spring, odd to think of now that they were in the second month of summer, of fire season. <br><br>"William aeh? What have you to say then William of..." Clearly it was a question and clearly the damn man felt the need to be protective of her. <br><br>"Ki'eral, please." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Melody of Thrones [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>08-01-2011, 20:13:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				William endured the man's gaze, drawing up all the courtly bearing he could muster in that moment.&nbsp; Something in the scruffy old man's countenance spoke of royal blood, and something in William's own echoed at it.&nbsp; The mercenary had seen enough since fleeing his home to put little stock in birthrights and bloodlines.&nbsp; Even the most base of farmers knew how to issue a challenge with their words, with their eyes, and even if the challenge weren't finished with swords, it still mattered.&nbsp; William would not be outdone, nor intimidated.<br><br>He pulled back the hood of his cloak.&nbsp; "William of Ihevsen, actually," he said in an even voice.&nbsp; His dark blue eyes held the old man's brown, unblinking.&nbsp; It was a risk to tell him as much, but Lita seemed to trust him well enough, and it was a longshot whether the crusty old horsemonger would know the displaced prince of Ihevsen by name.&nbsp; "I'm afraid the burden that Lita carries is my doing.&nbsp; The witches decided I needed a companion in my travels, and she was in the right place at the wrong time.&nbsp; I assure you, though, I will try and make my burden a light one."<br><br>The elderly giant quirked a brow at the name William gave, but nodded thoughtfully, casting an amused glance to Lita.&nbsp; "Well then, that does make a bit of sense.&nbsp; You never were very fortune-favored, were you?&nbsp; No, not you.&nbsp; Earned everything yourself, for true," he mumbled, trailing off as he turned away to look toward the stables.&nbsp; "I suppose you'll be needin' horses.&nbsp; Of course you're welcome to stay for the night, if you like, though I doubt you intended as much.&nbsp; Up to you."
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>