Lyanna Vahlaar
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2016
- Messages
- 65
- Reaction score
- 33
Uncertainty had no place in Lyannas heart. Following the wishes of the spirit and staying truely faithfull to its teachings was no path for the weak-willed. There was little true despise Lyanna carried in her heart, carefully hidden beneath thick layers of ice and iron, but a certain ammount of digust was undeniablly entrenched in it. She felt said roots whenever she had to surround herself with criminals to fulfill her duty. Some of the desires echoed so loud from the minds of their bearers that Lyanna had a hard time ignoring it. Desire for credits, easy meat and much more of that kind was dominant in most of them.
Three weeks had passed since Lyanna had failed her mission. Her father had not been pleased to learn of her failure, yet he knew of the difficulties of achieving dark side artifcats. Especially intact and powerful ones. He was rather reliefed Lyanna had not suffered any serious injures. What had him concerend the most was of course the news of whom Lyanna was defeated by. And not getting ahold of the articat was a defeat, and nothing else.
The rumours spread quickly and were soon officially confirmed by her father within the close circle of their own blood.
Lyanna did not remember all information she had gained from the heir. His life had passed by her eyes, but as no human-being remembered all parts of their own life span, she could not recall every detail she had witnessed of his.
She knew his name, heritage and potential. There was little more she had to know.
Strolling seemingly relaxed through the black market located within the flagship of the quite sinister figure of someone who went by the name two-tongue, Lyanna had no intention of lingering around too long. This was no place for her. She would have prefered an open battle-field over this masquerade any day. She was not much of an actress.
After careful investigation she was quite certain there was nothing here for her, so she intended to leave, when something had her remaining. Her gaze had caught an uncommonly tall young man. Uncommonly tall...
Her eyes narrowed when she stepped closer, as if she had to make sure. For the moment she could only spot his blonde, short-cut hair, but the height of him...When he finally turned around heat ignited around the area of her stomach, just to burn itself down into the depths of her iintestines. It was him. She could have told this pattern in the force apart from a million other. He had not become aware of her as it seemed. With no hesitation putting her into chains, she disapparead from his possible radius of view. Her fingers openend the little leather bag attached to her belt...
Shortly afterwards Lyanna observed him from afar. He was talking to someone, another male, yet way shorter and older. When after one or two minutes said man left the heir to himself, he was finally about to raise the cup to his mouth...
Someone softly pushed Lyanna aside and quitely apologized. It had been a nice try, yet she carried no purse to steal. Her gaze followed the unfortunate thief for a moment, before her eyes darted back to the heir.
The cup had not touched his lips...instead a young woman had appaereanly approached him. She was tall and slender and moved with the elegancy and playfullness of a vixen. A cascade of endless, red curls fell down her back and framed her - admittingly - stunningly pretty face. And she was holding the cup...when did that happen? Had she not just lost focus on him for less then a few seconds?
She witnessed the youg woman bringing the cup to her painted lips. Lyannas hand shot into the air as to pull the cup from the girl, but it was too late..
Three weeks had passed since Lyanna had failed her mission. Her father had not been pleased to learn of her failure, yet he knew of the difficulties of achieving dark side artifcats. Especially intact and powerful ones. He was rather reliefed Lyanna had not suffered any serious injures. What had him concerend the most was of course the news of whom Lyanna was defeated by. And not getting ahold of the articat was a defeat, and nothing else.
The rumours spread quickly and were soon officially confirmed by her father within the close circle of their own blood.
Lyanna did not remember all information she had gained from the heir. His life had passed by her eyes, but as no human-being remembered all parts of their own life span, she could not recall every detail she had witnessed of his.
She knew his name, heritage and potential. There was little more she had to know.
Strolling seemingly relaxed through the black market located within the flagship of the quite sinister figure of someone who went by the name two-tongue, Lyanna had no intention of lingering around too long. This was no place for her. She would have prefered an open battle-field over this masquerade any day. She was not much of an actress.
After careful investigation she was quite certain there was nothing here for her, so she intended to leave, when something had her remaining. Her gaze had caught an uncommonly tall young man. Uncommonly tall...
Her eyes narrowed when she stepped closer, as if she had to make sure. For the moment she could only spot his blonde, short-cut hair, but the height of him...When he finally turned around heat ignited around the area of her stomach, just to burn itself down into the depths of her iintestines. It was him. She could have told this pattern in the force apart from a million other. He had not become aware of her as it seemed. With no hesitation putting her into chains, she disapparead from his possible radius of view. Her fingers openend the little leather bag attached to her belt...
Shortly afterwards Lyanna observed him from afar. He was talking to someone, another male, yet way shorter and older. When after one or two minutes said man left the heir to himself, he was finally about to raise the cup to his mouth...
Someone softly pushed Lyanna aside and quitely apologized. It had been a nice try, yet she carried no purse to steal. Her gaze followed the unfortunate thief for a moment, before her eyes darted back to the heir.
The cup had not touched his lips...instead a young woman had appaereanly approached him. She was tall and slender and moved with the elegancy and playfullness of a vixen. A cascade of endless, red curls fell down her back and framed her - admittingly - stunningly pretty face. And she was holding the cup...when did that happen? Had she not just lost focus on him for less then a few seconds?
She witnessed the youg woman bringing the cup to her painted lips. Lyannas hand shot into the air as to pull the cup from the girl, but it was too late..