Plàmàs
rhaegar targaryen
act one - dead ladies club
chapter two || ocean of pain
The waves crashed into the cliff face with more force each attack, a brutal yet beautiful attack. With toes upon the edge, Larena smiled as the salty breeze blew past her, taking her worries as if they were mere pieces of dust. She had finally found something to smile about since that day. That dreadful day.
"LARENA. LARENA WHAT ARE YOU DOING." She has pondered whether she should jump, just to spite her mother, but although hilarious would be incredibly cruel. She knew the fall wouldn't kill her, "Mother, even if I did jump I wouldn't die, we used to jump from here all the time!" And there it was, the light was back, the glisten in that mischievous gaze, with that Lady Lillith Achille thought with a small sigh. Lillith turns with a slight shake of her head but within no more than a few paces, two thin arms warmly encase her. Tight enough to ensure love and safety but gentle enough so that it would not hurt, yet without doubt every time it is followed by a "I'm not hurting you am I... I just wanted you to know I love you." And like a small breeze she is gone again.
It was clear who young Larena took after, she was her Lord father through and through, she was a Dornish soul. Lord Luther Achille was the subject for many bards, a kind hearted man with golden hair and stunning eyes. But that should not fool you, although kind, he was wise beyond his years though his greatest talent lied upon the battlefield. When a storm begins it does not stop till it has destroyed everything in its wake and that was his almighty talent. A kind hearted murderer, a merciful warrior. Though his devoted wife, Lady Lillith Achille nee Stark was the north from head to the tips of her toes. She was quiet and respected, stoic and rough. But in her youth she was a wolf, she dreamed of adventures, mischievous adventures full of fighting and love. She was a brown haired beauty with pale blue eyes. Larena was her father except her storm had yet to rise whereas her brother was their mother, he was a strong wolf but did not carry a storm. Something that he let ruin him.
"Achilles have always had a way with death, they danced with death teasing her with their mindless actions. Lord Luther had managed to sway her too many times that when she finally came to collect his joyful soul, she could not help but smile as she thought of how she would miss his dance.
She was suprised and riddled with nostalgia when Lucan followed closely to his father, his dance was calculated and slow, out-witting wise old death. But calculations can fail, you can miss a beat and that's what he did. But this time she did not smile, they had only just began their dance.
Yet all she could do was welcome his soul." Lorena's eyes widened, shining brightly, "I will dance with death as if we were lovers, I will keep her close but as she begins to think the music is ending I will simply dip her to the ground and whisper in her ear." The Maester could not control his curiosity when he simply asked, "Well what will you say child?"
Her dress flowed as she had begun to leave the room, stopping, and turning with a smile that could warm even the north she said,
"Not today."
