01-09-2010, 08:30 PM
Zana’s sharp eyes gazed up to the small bluff that her brother would stand upon, where he would soon be staring back across the waves of people that had flocked to his banner for the long progression to the battle field. Now across the sparse and hilly woods the enemy waited. This was no battle of glory, it was to take down the traitor and reinstate the throne to the rightful line. It had taken Zana a moment to realize now that these folk gathered around her who had accepted her into their folds would not be fighting a faceless army, but one with the faces of those they loved. She swallowed hard as she tried to ignore the truth and prepare herself for the battle that waited ahead of them.
She had chosen to perch atop the rim of the chariot while waiting for her brother to begin to speak. She was quiet, brooding over his words of last night and the time she’d spent in the arms of Aisleran. He hadn’t understood what had brought her to his tent and she didn’t care what the men would say come morning but she’d stayed wrapped in his arms until morning, curled up tightly with her fingers wrapped up in his own. She would let them think what they wished if it pleased them, they would not have long to place bets on what went on. She knew Aisleran by now and the first to tease or approach him on her presence in his tent would find their want for scandal to be short lived.
The slight woman turned her gaze to the masses, knowing that somewhere out there Aisleran was waiting for the moment they would surge the army of the usurper. They seemed to think that DaVinci would speak a long and lengthy talk to boost their spirits and usher them into war, she knew otherwise but she didn’t say anything as they stood so silently in the eerie predawn shimmer, the promise of light to come. She hoped it was a promise of a swift battle and victory as well. They needed a miracle.
Her mind slipped back to the warmth of Aisleran’s body and the rhythmic sound of his breathing as she wondered if perhaps she should have taken the moment further, but it was as if something inside of her hushed that idea. She let her orbs drift back towards where she thought she’d taken a glimpse of Aisleran standing rallied with his troops, thinking that perhaps if they survived this she might bask in the splendors of the man after all. Her moment to idly wonder came to a close quickly though as DaVinci appeared before them with a glint in his eye and the dark red cloak of promise, the sign of the Ri.
She had chosen to perch atop the rim of the chariot while waiting for her brother to begin to speak. She was quiet, brooding over his words of last night and the time she’d spent in the arms of Aisleran. He hadn’t understood what had brought her to his tent and she didn’t care what the men would say come morning but she’d stayed wrapped in his arms until morning, curled up tightly with her fingers wrapped up in his own. She would let them think what they wished if it pleased them, they would not have long to place bets on what went on. She knew Aisleran by now and the first to tease or approach him on her presence in his tent would find their want for scandal to be short lived.
The slight woman turned her gaze to the masses, knowing that somewhere out there Aisleran was waiting for the moment they would surge the army of the usurper. They seemed to think that DaVinci would speak a long and lengthy talk to boost their spirits and usher them into war, she knew otherwise but she didn’t say anything as they stood so silently in the eerie predawn shimmer, the promise of light to come. She hoped it was a promise of a swift battle and victory as well. They needed a miracle.
Her mind slipped back to the warmth of Aisleran’s body and the rhythmic sound of his breathing as she wondered if perhaps she should have taken the moment further, but it was as if something inside of her hushed that idea. She let her orbs drift back towards where she thought she’d taken a glimpse of Aisleran standing rallied with his troops, thinking that perhaps if they survived this she might bask in the splendors of the man after all. Her moment to idly wonder came to a close quickly though as DaVinci appeared before them with a glint in his eye and the dark red cloak of promise, the sign of the Ri.