angelicmadrigal
Resident RP Goddess of Burnout
Author's Note:
This is from an almost 2 year long RP on another site called Blood, Sweat, and Iron. I chose this for my entry, not because it is my best writing (it is an unedited, rough draft), but because it showcases two of my best skills; writing multiple characters at the same time and political intrigue stories.
This RP is a Viking-era political intrigue story. The current scene is from the funeral for the Jarl, who had recently been poisoned by an unknown assailant. Enjoy.
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It was early morning when everyone met to say their final farewells to Jarl Ivar. Rasa and Hakon had parted with barely a word between them and Runa and Rorik had said their goodbyes just in time to slip back to their respective rooms mostly unnoticed. Girl for her part hadn't slept at all, the events of the night before and the lingering soreness keeping her from getting any rest at all. Lena had awoken early to have time to tend her uncle and attempt to ensure he would at least be tolerable during the day's events. Somehow, everyone seemed to know it would be an exhausting day.
*****It was quite a sight to behold, the entire town gathered around the dock to send off the man that had been their Jarl for so long. Lena stood at her uncle's side, her hands clasped in front of her with her head bowed respectfully as the Shaman chanted and the brother's said their goodbyes. For once, the gregarious women was solemn and silent. It was the brothers' time to honor their father. More than anyone else, they deserved the chance to mourn.
However, Lena awaited the opportunity to have her uncle make some sort of jibe at his brother-in-law. When it didn't come, she was releived and somewhat surprised. It seemed even with his distaste for Jarl Ivar, he was not intent on dishonoring his memory at this sacred time.
The reaction of each brother did not go unnoticed to her as the parted with their father, each in their own way. She herself had nothing to say to the old Jarl, she didn't even know him other than through the stories her uncle's wife used to tell her. It was hard to imagine that this dead man as the one that so many wonderful stories had been the center of.
She was wearing the dress that the Jarl had gifted her. She knew Rorik prefered her in her regular clothing, but this occassion called for something more formal. Her arm was still adorned with the band Rorik had given her. She was also wearing a leather necklace with a rune carved into a strange, deep green stone. It had been her mother's, and it was the gift she had spoken of giving to Rorik...at least at the right time.
Runa watched as the arrows flew towards the boat, noting the rather odd meeting of Gunnvar and Rorik's arrows. Then she watched as Hakon's arrow hit its mark and caused the longboat to set ablaze. Runa wondered if perhaps it was a metaphor for the relationship between the brothers. Though she didn't dwell on that overlong as she waited for Rorik to join her.
She waited patiently at the entrance of the hold, up the hill from the docks. When she saw Hakon approaching the hold, she moved to meet him. Each of her movements betrayed the stress her body had suffered, even as she tried to hide it. While the others were still back at the dock, she took the opportunity to take his arm in her hand. Her voice had an uncharacteristic gentleness to it, and it was clear she'd been crying. "Walk with me." She said. "I don't think either of us needs to walk alone right now."
She hadn't expected to feel like this when it was all over. Having spent the night with Gunnvar had taught her more than anyhing that all along his father had been protecting her. Everything he'd done, it wasn't about possessiveness as it had been with Gunnvar, it was about genuine concern for her well being. Tears slipped down her pretty face as she lamented betraying him.
As she looked out to the distance, watching the flames rising from the boat, she began to sing. The language was one of her own tongue, a song her people sang to their God to send their own off to their eternal reward in Heaven. It was mournful but beautiful, and Girl's voice carried so that anyone who neared the hold could hear it.
This is from an almost 2 year long RP on another site called Blood, Sweat, and Iron. I chose this for my entry, not because it is my best writing (it is an unedited, rough draft), but because it showcases two of my best skills; writing multiple characters at the same time and political intrigue stories.
This RP is a Viking-era political intrigue story. The current scene is from the funeral for the Jarl, who had recently been poisoned by an unknown assailant. Enjoy.
__________________________________________________________________________
It was early morning when everyone met to say their final farewells to Jarl Ivar. Rasa and Hakon had parted with barely a word between them and Runa and Rorik had said their goodbyes just in time to slip back to their respective rooms mostly unnoticed. Girl for her part hadn't slept at all, the events of the night before and the lingering soreness keeping her from getting any rest at all. Lena had awoken early to have time to tend her uncle and attempt to ensure he would at least be tolerable during the day's events. Somehow, everyone seemed to know it would be an exhausting day.
*****
However, Lena awaited the opportunity to have her uncle make some sort of jibe at his brother-in-law. When it didn't come, she was releived and somewhat surprised. It seemed even with his distaste for Jarl Ivar, he was not intent on dishonoring his memory at this sacred time.
The reaction of each brother did not go unnoticed to her as the parted with their father, each in their own way. She herself had nothing to say to the old Jarl, she didn't even know him other than through the stories her uncle's wife used to tell her. It was hard to imagine that this dead man as the one that so many wonderful stories had been the center of.
****
Runa found herself standing close enough to be able to watch Rorik, but maintain a respectful distance. She didn't want to intrude, after all, she was not family just yet...despite the events of the previous night. He was trying to be strong, but she understood that his relationship with his father had been a difficult one; so very different than her relationship with her father. Even if they had both lost their mothers at a young age, Runa had always had the benefit of a father that she knew loved her. Even after giving her over to the Jarl, she knew he still loved her.She was wearing the dress that the Jarl had gifted her. She knew Rorik prefered her in her regular clothing, but this occassion called for something more formal. Her arm was still adorned with the band Rorik had given her. She was also wearing a leather necklace with a rune carved into a strange, deep green stone. It had been her mother's, and it was the gift she had spoken of giving to Rorik...at least at the right time.
Runa watched as the arrows flew towards the boat, noting the rather odd meeting of Gunnvar and Rorik's arrows. Then she watched as Hakon's arrow hit its mark and caused the longboat to set ablaze. Runa wondered if perhaps it was a metaphor for the relationship between the brothers. Though she didn't dwell on that overlong as she waited for Rorik to join her.
****
For her part, Rasa stayed back from the ceremony. Her body was in need of rest and her mind still unsettled. Even though she'd had the first restful night's sleep in years, the Jarl's death left her feeling perplexed. She was sad, of course. The man had been like a father to her in so man ways, but she had never forgiven him for knowing what his eldest son had done to her and doing nothing. It was as though all those years he spent treating her like family ceased to matter, and while the old Jarl had still allowed her to stay within his household, their relationship had never been the same.She waited patiently at the entrance of the hold, up the hill from the docks. When she saw Hakon approaching the hold, she moved to meet him. Each of her movements betrayed the stress her body had suffered, even as she tried to hide it. While the others were still back at the dock, she took the opportunity to take his arm in her hand. Her voice had an uncharacteristic gentleness to it, and it was clear she'd been crying. "Walk with me." She said. "I don't think either of us needs to walk alone right now."
****
Girl had managed to wind her way up to one of the hold's great towers. Most of the time it was used to watch the sea, but with everyone at the Jarl's funeral she had no difficulty getting to it. It was a long, painful journey up the many steps for the young woman. But, she wished to say good bye to the Jarl in her own way. She felt too guilty to see him off in the way his own people did. She'd betrayed him in the worst way imaginable, using his affection for her as a weapon. She'd never really wanted it to end like this, but she didn't want to be a slave forever either.She hadn't expected to feel like this when it was all over. Having spent the night with Gunnvar had taught her more than anyhing that all along his father had been protecting her. Everything he'd done, it wasn't about possessiveness as it had been with Gunnvar, it was about genuine concern for her well being. Tears slipped down her pretty face as she lamented betraying him.
As she looked out to the distance, watching the flames rising from the boat, she began to sing. The language was one of her own tongue, a song her people sang to their God to send their own off to their eternal reward in Heaven. It was mournful but beautiful, and Girl's voice carried so that anyone who neared the hold could hear it.