Post by Cait on Feb 24, 2015 0:38:02 GMT -8
@Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)
Turnover's eve celebration
Wee hours
Just outside the wher dens
Mentions of violence and abuse.
"Damn menace!" Derron hissed as the Crimson wher stood over his handler's still form, wings unfurled an a grating growl vibrating the air. Anytime, either of the men tried to get close, he'd lunge only to retreat and cover the woman again. They had attacked his handler before and she had prevented him from killing them, but now; now she was barely conscious and if they came close enough he would tear them apart. He would bathe in their blood.
"I know you can hear me sister. You may have slipped our grasp this time, but what about your precious dragonrider? Did you honestly think that you could dictate to us?!" Derron's voice was little more than a snarl in the night. In the distance revelers were still celebrating the coming of a new Turn and among them was T'kar. Dalonia tried to push herself up, she had to get to him, had to keep him safe. She didn't know how her brothers had gotten into the weyr--she suspected Barrek though--but they had ambushed her when she'd slipped away to check on Dalosk. They had known about T'kar, that she'd come to the Gather with him--and even though it wasn't like that--her brothers had drawn the conclusion that she was now far too soft.
With only the small knife in her bodice to defend herself, it hadn't taken long for her brothers to gain control of the situation. Using her lingering fear of them against her, they had cornered her, but rather than take their time tormenting her as they had done before, Derron and Ellaren had gotten right to work in taking their revenge on her. "How exactly do you plan on stoppin' us, Dal? How are you going to stop us from making him disappear?"
Though she had been mostly still up until then, Dalonia stirred at the taunt, pushing her battered body up by sheer will alone. The gown that T'kar had earlier complimented was utterly ruined; cut and torn in several places and stained by blood. With a scream that was born just as much of desperate rage as it was pain, she clawed her way up the Crimson's side as he echoed her cry. They'd stuck her like a pig, at least half a dozen intentionally shallow stab wounds in non-vital areas. She was bruised and one of her eyes was already beginning to swell shut.
"You touch him and I will end you both!" It was a threat born out of desperation. She couldn't let anything happen to T'kar; wouldn't let anything happen to him. He was the only chance her children had--that was the first time she'd even taken ownership of the twins in her mind--at a normal parent that knew how to nurture and love. He was their only chance at a normal life that wasn't filled with darkness and fear and paranoia. If she had to die to give them that, she would. No one would miss her; not really. People barely tolerated her as it was; T'kar barely tolerated her.
Her brothers began to laugh and she mustered up every last bit of will power she had and stepped away from Dalosk. She had only a thread of control left over the Crimson and she was about to let it snap. He would do what she could not do herself. She swayed, light-headed from blood loss but before she could release him, let him exercise his rage, a familiar too-loud bellow sounded from somwhere above the weyrbowl. Her brothers cursed and before she realized what was happening, they'd disappeared. "NO!" Dalonia staggered after them but her legs crumbled beneath her and she hit the ground hard. "No." She had to stop them. "T'kar."
Dalosk took his post over her once more, growling steadily as she barely held on to consciousness and kept trying to push herself up only to collapse again. She had to get to him; she had to protect him.
Turnover's eve celebration
Wee hours
Just outside the wher dens
Mentions of violence and abuse.
"Damn menace!" Derron hissed as the Crimson wher stood over his handler's still form, wings unfurled an a grating growl vibrating the air. Anytime, either of the men tried to get close, he'd lunge only to retreat and cover the woman again. They had attacked his handler before and she had prevented him from killing them, but now; now she was barely conscious and if they came close enough he would tear them apart. He would bathe in their blood.
"I know you can hear me sister. You may have slipped our grasp this time, but what about your precious dragonrider? Did you honestly think that you could dictate to us?!" Derron's voice was little more than a snarl in the night. In the distance revelers were still celebrating the coming of a new Turn and among them was T'kar. Dalonia tried to push herself up, she had to get to him, had to keep him safe. She didn't know how her brothers had gotten into the weyr--she suspected Barrek though--but they had ambushed her when she'd slipped away to check on Dalosk. They had known about T'kar, that she'd come to the Gather with him--and even though it wasn't like that--her brothers had drawn the conclusion that she was now far too soft.
With only the small knife in her bodice to defend herself, it hadn't taken long for her brothers to gain control of the situation. Using her lingering fear of them against her, they had cornered her, but rather than take their time tormenting her as they had done before, Derron and Ellaren had gotten right to work in taking their revenge on her. "How exactly do you plan on stoppin' us, Dal? How are you going to stop us from making him disappear?"
Though she had been mostly still up until then, Dalonia stirred at the taunt, pushing her battered body up by sheer will alone. The gown that T'kar had earlier complimented was utterly ruined; cut and torn in several places and stained by blood. With a scream that was born just as much of desperate rage as it was pain, she clawed her way up the Crimson's side as he echoed her cry. They'd stuck her like a pig, at least half a dozen intentionally shallow stab wounds in non-vital areas. She was bruised and one of her eyes was already beginning to swell shut.
"You touch him and I will end you both!" It was a threat born out of desperation. She couldn't let anything happen to T'kar; wouldn't let anything happen to him. He was the only chance her children had--that was the first time she'd even taken ownership of the twins in her mind--at a normal parent that knew how to nurture and love. He was their only chance at a normal life that wasn't filled with darkness and fear and paranoia. If she had to die to give them that, she would. No one would miss her; not really. People barely tolerated her as it was; T'kar barely tolerated her.
Her brothers began to laugh and she mustered up every last bit of will power she had and stepped away from Dalosk. She had only a thread of control left over the Crimson and she was about to let it snap. He would do what she could not do herself. She swayed, light-headed from blood loss but before she could release him, let him exercise his rage, a familiar too-loud bellow sounded from somwhere above the weyrbowl. Her brothers cursed and before she realized what was happening, they'd disappeared. "NO!" Dalonia staggered after them but her legs crumbled beneath her and she hit the ground hard. "No." She had to stop them. "T'kar."
Dalosk took his post over her once more, growling steadily as she barely held on to consciousness and kept trying to push herself up only to collapse again. She had to get to him; she had to protect him.