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dragonjournal) wrote2010-10-04 02:31 pm
dragonjournal) wrote2010-10-04 02:31 pm
Entry tags:
Bingo Spam #2 5/5
Title: Homecoming
Prompt: Exile
Rating: PG-13
Content Note/Warnings: Language.
She hadn’t been back in almost twenty years. The laws of the land said that she was exiled, disowned and that her life was forfeit should she dare put a foot on Mishren Land ever again.
She’d held to that.
No matter how hard it got – and after Farringal it had gotten very hard – she’d stayed away from the barony that her father had held.
One hand dropped to rub at the scar on her hip. Branded like cattle, she’d been thrown out for a single act of defiance. An act that had, eventually, cost her sister her freedom as well.
Mira shook the thoughts away and looked up. On an outcropping of rock, clinging to the side of the mountain sat the stone castle that she’d become heir to.
It seemed that her father, despite observing the rituals and having her branded a traitor to her family, had forgotten to file the paperwork with the King. All these years, she’d been considered ‘missing’.
She snorted. Missing was it? Never mind that she’d been thrown out without any skills at all. Never mind that only luck and the help of strangers had kept her alive. (She didn’t count her former sergeant. Mira was still convinced the woman had tried to kill her on a regular basis.)
She hitched the pack on her back higher on her shoulder. Her hair was tucked under a big floppy hat.
The men that had been sent to find her had said she’d be welcomed with open arms. Mira believed that about as much as she believed that Hyst – her BattleCat – would suddenly become an herbivore.
She trudged through the small town on foot. Hyst was supposed to be lying low, though if she knew the Tiger, Hyst was close by.
“You lookin’ for work?”
Mira turned and regarded the sergeant that had spoken. She’d stopped at the town’s central board. Everything was posted here, near the church, so people who could read would know what jobs were on offer and those that couldn’t, could get the priest to read for them.
“You got some?”
The years as a mercenary had removed her noble accent. She spoke with the same blandness as the farmers and herders of the kingdom. Save for her damned hair, no one would believe she was anything other than an out of work wanderer.
“Bitch comin’ in, claimin’ to be the heir.” He spat in the dirt by his feet. “I was there when she was disowned.”
Disowned. Such a mild word for the beatings, the torment, and the branding she’d suffered.
“I won’t bend my knee to no one that done played whore like she did.”
Mira didn’t deny that she’d almost done it a few times. Why not? She’d been hungry and obviously sex didn’t mean anything. (This whole damned thing had started because she’d caught the man she was about to marry having his cock sucked by one of the maids, and then refused to marry the bastard.) But she hadn’t. She’d been damned lucky and kept her virginity until after she’d become a mercenary and gotten a little too drunk one night.
She’d never regretted it.
“An’ why should I follow you?” Mira asked, studying the man. She didn’t recognize him from the courtyard the day she’d been branded. Didn’t mean anything, though. Mira knew she’d been a bit delirious.
He snorted. “Serve the rightful heir. The younger sister and that lord she married.”
Which was precisely why Mira was here. The men that had found her had said her sister’s husband couldn’t run a barony even with advisers and the King overseeing everything he did. She might not have fond memories of this place but it was home.
“What’s wrong with the elder?” She finally asked.
The man spat again. “Disowned. Brought shame on the family. Ran off an’ became a whore. Had her myself over in Gulart City.”
Mira barely managed to not laugh in the man’s face. Had her had he?
She looked up at the castle again. If this was the sort of place her birthplace had become, why did she want to come back again?
“So, what’ll it be? Wanna help stop the Disowned Whore from ruinin’ everythin’ the old lord stood for?”
That settled it. She turned to look at him and she just smiled.
Time to end the exile.
Prompt: Exile
Rating: PG-13
Content Note/Warnings: Language.
She hadn’t been back in almost twenty years. The laws of the land said that she was exiled, disowned and that her life was forfeit should she dare put a foot on Mishren Land ever again.
She’d held to that.
No matter how hard it got – and after Farringal it had gotten very hard – she’d stayed away from the barony that her father had held.
One hand dropped to rub at the scar on her hip. Branded like cattle, she’d been thrown out for a single act of defiance. An act that had, eventually, cost her sister her freedom as well.
Mira shook the thoughts away and looked up. On an outcropping of rock, clinging to the side of the mountain sat the stone castle that she’d become heir to.
It seemed that her father, despite observing the rituals and having her branded a traitor to her family, had forgotten to file the paperwork with the King. All these years, she’d been considered ‘missing’.
She snorted. Missing was it? Never mind that she’d been thrown out without any skills at all. Never mind that only luck and the help of strangers had kept her alive. (She didn’t count her former sergeant. Mira was still convinced the woman had tried to kill her on a regular basis.)
She hitched the pack on her back higher on her shoulder. Her hair was tucked under a big floppy hat.
The men that had been sent to find her had said she’d be welcomed with open arms. Mira believed that about as much as she believed that Hyst – her BattleCat – would suddenly become an herbivore.
She trudged through the small town on foot. Hyst was supposed to be lying low, though if she knew the Tiger, Hyst was close by.
“You lookin’ for work?”
Mira turned and regarded the sergeant that had spoken. She’d stopped at the town’s central board. Everything was posted here, near the church, so people who could read would know what jobs were on offer and those that couldn’t, could get the priest to read for them.
“You got some?”
The years as a mercenary had removed her noble accent. She spoke with the same blandness as the farmers and herders of the kingdom. Save for her damned hair, no one would believe she was anything other than an out of work wanderer.
“Bitch comin’ in, claimin’ to be the heir.” He spat in the dirt by his feet. “I was there when she was disowned.”
Disowned. Such a mild word for the beatings, the torment, and the branding she’d suffered.
“I won’t bend my knee to no one that done played whore like she did.”
Mira didn’t deny that she’d almost done it a few times. Why not? She’d been hungry and obviously sex didn’t mean anything. (This whole damned thing had started because she’d caught the man she was about to marry having his cock sucked by one of the maids, and then refused to marry the bastard.) But she hadn’t. She’d been damned lucky and kept her virginity until after she’d become a mercenary and gotten a little too drunk one night.
She’d never regretted it.
“An’ why should I follow you?” Mira asked, studying the man. She didn’t recognize him from the courtyard the day she’d been branded. Didn’t mean anything, though. Mira knew she’d been a bit delirious.
He snorted. “Serve the rightful heir. The younger sister and that lord she married.”
Which was precisely why Mira was here. The men that had found her had said her sister’s husband couldn’t run a barony even with advisers and the King overseeing everything he did. She might not have fond memories of this place but it was home.
“What’s wrong with the elder?” She finally asked.
The man spat again. “Disowned. Brought shame on the family. Ran off an’ became a whore. Had her myself over in Gulart City.”
Mira barely managed to not laugh in the man’s face. Had her had he?
She looked up at the castle again. If this was the sort of place her birthplace had become, why did she want to come back again?
“So, what’ll it be? Wanna help stop the Disowned Whore from ruinin’ everythin’ the old lord stood for?”
That settled it. She turned to look at him and she just smiled.
Time to end the exile.