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 Posted: Sat Dec 16, 2017 8:54 am
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Although not the true lady of the hold, for there was no such mistress, it was expected of Lady Ink to tend to her lord when he was ill, as he was now. She knelt at his bedside, gently dabbing the sweat away with a cool cloth. Lord Redrick was a rather terrible patient, and Ink was required to be the perfect wife, though she was no such thing. A trapped bird sang no sweet songs, nor would she for this man. If she pretended, she could imagine that this man who called for her loved her.
Bruised and battered by his cruelty, she yet played the part. If she listened carefully, she thought that perhaps she could hear a familiar song. Something that she had only begun to hear in recent times. One tune played, perhaps, for her alone. From time to time, her fingers brushed over Lord Redrick's dagger. The temptation to end her misery was beyond belief, the naked longing in her eyes never showing for this sick man.
But no, if she tried to end this cycle, he would win. Dead or alive, he would win. She could not take her own life, nor could she end his. If she died, then nothing would be gained from this terrible trial. If he died... then she would be tried and condemned for his death, for Lord Gansley favored his people well. He did not care for the plight of one insignificant young woman.
Lord Redrick grasped her wrist, but his hold was feeble for now, and at last he sank into a deep sleep. She slipped away to sit by her window, listening longingly for the sound of birds... where no birds should be. Song wherries did not have so sweet a sound as a certain lark. Tired but determined, she waited.
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Posted: Sat Dec 16, 2017 9:35 am
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The inside of the hold was oppressive, the air heavy with sickness and a pervasive dread of the bedridden lord. But the air that flowed in through Lady Ink’s window was fresh, and the sunlight—what little of it shone in—was bright and warm.
It was up high, high above that window that a tiny flash winked into existence, reflecting the rays like a small sun itself. The miniature sun hovered there for several minutes, as if perhaps admiring the lands below. Then, with another twinkle, it began to descend. Slowly, it moved about the air above the courtyard, drifting almost at random, as a leaf on the wind. Then, as if it had suddenly spotted its mark, it flew directly towards the sill at which the pale lady languished.
This gleaming creature that landed on the sill revealed itself to be a firelizard, her hide of pure, vibrant gold. She was a comely little thing, regally poised and unafraid of the stranger she had come to visit. No, she knew this woman well enough, if only through the thoughts of her master. She arched her neck toward the lady, offering the gift of a deep red flower, held daintily between her jaws.
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Posted: Sat Dec 16, 2017 9:48 am
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From this little creature, Ink retrieved a flower. The blossom flashed brightly in her pale hands, and she turned it over and over, reveling in the gentle object. It was soft to the touch, and filled her with a frail hope. The beatings had become more severe of late, for her lord had a task for her that she had as of yet not fulfilled. No woman had. To Ink's view, no woman could. Lord Redrick would hear of no such thing, but... it had occurred to the young woman that if eight women before her had failed... then perhaps it was the man who was incapable.
Had he been able to bring his will about, she would already have succeeded. Five turns as his captive lady would have borne fruit. She knew that she could not put him off long; his patience was very poor. She amused him, and in some ways delighted him, but still... if she failed. If she failed, she would die. Nothing would stop him from his dire course.
There was another, however, who could fill her life with light. Who dared to bring this gift to her, even from afar. Perhaps... perhaps...
Perhaps a savvy girl might think of such a thing as an opportunity to save her own life. Her heart quailed at the thought of using something so pure to her own ends. A twist of pain and self-revulsion filled her. But what would she not do to survive? What could she not do? Every inch of her willed this to end, willed herself free of such chains. She reached out, delicately, to stroke the little firelizard who had brought her tidings of her dear friend. Her only friend. If a friend indeed he was.
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Posted: Sat Dec 16, 2017 10:35 am
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The little gold gave a demure sigh of pleasure at the woman’s touch, eyes whirling from green to deep blue. Yes, that was just perfect! Her master was smart to like this person. And speaking of Master—
With a questioning trill, the firelizard lifted her head and looked around, scanning the room beyond the sill. Then she listened, tilting her heard to and fro. A few moments more, and she chirruped a goodbye to Lady Ink and dropped from the window. Then, wings unfurled to their full span, she was gliding out across the courtyard toward the entrance gate. There, a bracer-clad arm lifted to receive her claws, and she alighted, greeting her master with a chirp and a loving nuzzle.
The man who was now the object of affection of the golden firelizard smiled, eyes of the same rich shade as his pet looking up to the window from which she’d come.
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Posted: Sat Dec 16, 2017 4:59 pm
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Startled, Lady Ink drew back. She had not anticipated that the man might climb up to her secluded bower. All about, scattered piles of fragrant flowers gave a hint of life to the otherwise dim room. Glows lit up the corners only, and not enough to catch the eye on glimmers of jewelry and lush fabric. Even in the light of day, it was shrouded. And this day was a dreary one, the bright light of the harper's eyes the warmest thing to be seen. The lady leaned down to peer into that face that even now made its approach. "You came," she said, her voice low and soft, surprised.
She had certainly not expected him to come. Such was plain enough from the disarray in which she found herself. Her hair was unbound, trailing about her in smooth ripples, her raiment simple in nature, serviceable. Lord Redrick had not needed a fair maid, he had needed a nursemaid. And so she had been his nurse, but now... now she might have wished for a bit of glamour. There was none to be found, and such silliness should have been beneath her. As though she could have hidden the wanness of her face, or the bruises that gave color to her skin.
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Posted: Sun Dec 17, 2017 5:54 am
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At her soft voice, the lark grinned. “A little flit told me that your lord was regrettably ill, and that a harper might be of good use to cheer you, my dear lady.” As he climbed to her level, bringing her state into clear view, the lark was not put off by her somewhat duller appearance. In fact, he was quite pleased to see that she was still whole. One limb of the tree was in just the right place; he stood on it and leaned upon his elbow against the lady’s windowsill. “Actually, several flits have told me about poor, dearest Redrick, and how faithfully his devoted lady has doted upon him in his time of need. Quite admirable, really.” His eyes twinkled, and half a dozen twittering firelizard voices were heard, their sound like crystalline laughter.
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Posted: Sun Dec 17, 2017 8:24 am
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Quite suddenly, the air was full of firelizard voices, each distinct from the rest. The lady had been leaning forward, which meant that when the lark leaned so, he was face to face with her. Close enough to be dancing, close enough to...
Ink drew back slightly, and then knelt at the window ledge. "My lord is quite ill," the lady agreed, staring into that kindly face. No one had ever dared to be so close to her who was not Redrick himself, and she wondered whether he knew. "The only thing admirable is that I have not slit his wretched throat," she said with a quiet bite. A hint of fire shone within purple eyes that were ever so tired. How tempting it was to end the misery of her existence here... but she knew what would happen to her if she did.
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Posted: Sun Dec 17, 2017 11:14 am
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The harper's gentle voice drew her back, and she sat upon the sill, staring down into his golden eyes. Her haunted eyes told so much more than she ever would have dared. "Please. His lordship will not awaken for many hours." And she was, as much as she would ever be, quite alone. "And I am, as you can see, quite alone." As frightened as she was to be discovered, she feared missing this opportunity. She was ashamed of herself for the vicious response she had given, and she could not quite meet his eyes. Yet... who could blame her for fearing the man who had done this to her, who had kept her trapped, and hurt her for his own pleasure?
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Posted: Sun Dec 17, 2017 1:39 pm
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Shame didn’t belong with a lady, he thought. Nor a harsh life, nor fear, nor pain. None of it. If this pale, delicate flower been planted in fertile ground, in the warm sun… how great she would be! Certainly greater than to take notice of a baseborn knave such as himself. The harper would not squander these moments, for surely something greater than chance had caused this unlikely pair to meet.
The lady was still avoiding eye contact, so he tilted his head until he had aligned his gaze with hers. His smile was playful, but gently so. “Then I shall stay, for as many hours as his lordship might sleep.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 17, 2017 1:53 pm
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A hesitant smile overtook the lady's face, her lips softly curving at the edges. Did this man mean to entertain alone, or did he come to her for some other purpose? "Do you bring me news, dear lark? Or is there aught you wish of me?" Was he merely there to keep her good company? Lady Ink would take what was offered, of a certain, for she had been alone with her toils for many long hours, and was exhausted from the duty she bore. The lovely red flower she tucked behind one ear, lending color to an otherwise pale countenance.
"Will you come inside, then, or shall I sit without?" If she dared to let him into that window, there would be no going back. Even if nothing passed between them, to be caught so... oh, to be caught so might be her doom. But she was doomed either way, unless circumstances conspired to free her from her baneful fate. If she could help them along, she must.
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Posted: Sun Dec 17, 2017 3:11 pm
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A whisper of wind blew the lady's hair once more, shifting it aside all the more, until she was standing in a pool of her own darkling locks. It was apparent how she had gained her name, however pitiful that name might be. "Indeed, I fear that you shall suffer mightily within these walls," Ink said, a hint of mockery and faint humor touching her words. She stepped backward, a hand sweeping 'round to invite him in. "Prithee, do sit. This room is too large to warrant your present perch." There were chairs within, as well as the bed, though she was currently ignoring the latter.
"Then sing, lark, and tell me what you will. And perhaps... your name?" So saying, the lady glanced up, searching the man's face. He was all but a stranger to her, and yet somehow also her dearest friend and champion. What a strange affair this was... perhaps quite a literal affair, at that. She sighed, and drew into the room that he might sit.
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