Post by RED&BLACK ! on Apr 5, 2015 17:41:28 GMT -7
nerissa
DADDY, I GOT NOTHING LEFT. MY LOVE IS GOOD, MY LIFE'S A MESS
Four dreams in a row where she slept with the wolves - and now Nerissa is a dirty, hate-filled mess.
Maybe it's because she's been alone for weeks. Maybe it's because her blood has been mingling with the animals she is most afraid of. (The wolves are driving her crazy, and sleep does not stop them.) Maybe it is something so dark and wrong that she does not quite understand it; nor does she want to. And so she leaves it up to her subconscious to sorts out, and focuses on what is here.
A pool of anxiety is growing in her stomach. The black queen has been sick for days thinking of her Sansa, locked away with that filthy Ivanov, and now it is consuming her. She paces the borders, wondering if she did enough, if there is more to be concerned about. Something tugging at her gut says the silver girl will be here soon, but nervousness still prickles the hairs on her neck. Twigs crackle as she walks, back and forth on hallowed ground.
She has heard things. Bad things. About Liesel going missing, about this new boy's thirst for power. And Nessa is realizing that Ivanov is bad news, the worst she's heard in a long while. It strikes fear into her bones, but she refuses to cower. He is no one, she repeats. No one. And I have the blood of kings.
This is true, but her ichor is draining. No king's heart should shake this much.
Nerissa is torn from her thoughts by a familiar smell. Her head flies up, curls bouncing across her shoulders, and she turns toward the edge of the forest. When she sees the silvery shape winding toward her, her heart sings. Sansa!
Maybe it's because she's been alone for weeks. Maybe it's because her blood has been mingling with the animals she is most afraid of. (The wolves are driving her crazy, and sleep does not stop them.) Maybe it is something so dark and wrong that she does not quite understand it; nor does she want to. And so she leaves it up to her subconscious to sorts out, and focuses on what is here.
A pool of anxiety is growing in her stomach. The black queen has been sick for days thinking of her Sansa, locked away with that filthy Ivanov, and now it is consuming her. She paces the borders, wondering if she did enough, if there is more to be concerned about. Something tugging at her gut says the silver girl will be here soon, but nervousness still prickles the hairs on her neck. Twigs crackle as she walks, back and forth on hallowed ground.
She has heard things. Bad things. About Liesel going missing, about this new boy's thirst for power. And Nessa is realizing that Ivanov is bad news, the worst she's heard in a long while. It strikes fear into her bones, but she refuses to cower. He is no one, she repeats. No one. And I have the blood of kings.
This is true, but her ichor is draining. No king's heart should shake this much.
Nerissa is torn from her thoughts by a familiar smell. Her head flies up, curls bouncing across her shoulders, and she turns toward the edge of the forest. When she sees the silvery shape winding toward her, her heart sings. Sansa!
I miss rping.
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