-----Prolouge----- "*sob*" The girl's hands grabbed onto the blood stained snow, her delicate hands feeling for something... Someone. Her eyes welled up and she broke into quiet little cires, her voice as creamy as the milk a cat from a wealthy family drinks. Her eyes were onyx an her hair fell in a mess, the darkness soaked with the winter's wetness. Her face was cupped by strong and firm hands, and her grip on them was tight. She was weak, and her senses slowly faded away as her hands slipped from his. Her eyes rolled over to the side, her lips twitching into a smile as she whispered those words to her captor, "I love you." ---- D:
Chapter 1, a Delicate Evening ------ The winter cold hit the windows hard as snow fell from the cabin roof. Men came in and out as this was a stop for travelers, an inn. There was a racket, a fight in the corner of the shack. Two men wrestled each other drunk, and the rest were cheering for them. A girl walked down, her elfen ears twitched as she glanced at the group of menthat huddled together, her hair tied up in a bun. "STOP." Her voice was loud and strict, and was dominant. Eyes turned to a female elf, the same female who now held the railing tightly, a soft crack that was heard by everybody in the room. Men looked at her up and down, her olive skin an her bright green eyes appealing to them. The woman sneered as she held a tray in her other hand, placing it gently onto a table in the far right. The silence grew uncomfortable as she walked, her shoes making quiet tapping noises when she trotted. Her chin was held up high, those who looked knew at once that this was a woman with a treasured pride and had dignity in her soul. "I like this girl." Men began nodding and chatter rose up again, the elf woman walking back until she felt a hand on her arm. She turned to stare at a drunken fool, and she whipped her head back, trying to pull her arm back harshly. The man's grip was tight and he didn't let go, his voice was raspy and slurred when he talk. The woman at once knew that he was drunk, and her eyes glanced up the stairway, hoping that her husband was home, even if she knew that he was out on an expedition and would not return for months to come. "Yer pretty... Come have a lil' fun..." The man pulled on her arm, and she fell onto his lap, her gasp loud. Nobody turned to look, they were busy looking at their blueprints and maps an sipping their drinks and eating their meals as they talked. The man began nuzzling the crook of her neck, and she began struggling. In the far left corner, a man saw and he stood up, his sword raised as he approached the man and woman, his sword pointed straight at the fool's chest. "Let her go." His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. All eyes immediately were set on them, a sword was never a good sign. The drunk quickly released his hands, and the woman darted out of his grasp and thanked the man, her voice ragged as she panted from the panic. ----- D: It's a medieval story rofl. Trust me, it's going to be a sappy little story about forty pages long, hopefully. D: