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exsiliumlogs2012-03-19 10:00 pm
selfloyalty) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-03-19 10:00 pm
Entry tags:
I have other things to fill my time
Date & Time: March 19th, evening
Location: the Hold's courtyard, and around the city close to the Hold
Characters: Anora and OPEN
Summary: Her Highness gets a bit stir crazy and has a bad case of wanderlust.
Warnings: TBD
The last time she had ventured out, she had been accosted by the Masked and tracked as though she were nothing more than a mage. It had been very embarrassing, and when she returned to the apartment a few minutes later after composing herself, she had locked herself in her room for a few hours. She didn't let anyone know, she wouldn't let anyone know. After all, it was foolish, but she was so blinded by the fact that she had to get out and had to get away while the apartment was now occupied by yet another individual that reason had been beyond her for a second or so.
But the Masked were gone for the time being, training had resumed, and she was free to wander as she pleased.
Suffice to say, despite enjoying being a queen, it was slightly refreshing to have been drawn back to her more simpler roots. Fooling around with a sword, allowing herself to get a speck of dirt here and there and breaking into a sweat now and again...it brought her back to her childhood days in Gwaren where it always smelled of fresh cut wood and fish, when both Mother and Father were alive and well and falling and skinning her knees was of the norm.
There was a slight frown as she thought of her youth, and she brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she made her way through the courtyard. Amazing how time flies, and how people come and go from your lives so quickly. Her memories of her father were fresh, and there were still some moments when she'd wake up in middle of the night and splash her face with hot water, convinced that his blood was still there.
This had been one of those moments where she had been feeling so jittery and ill at ease in the close space of her flat that she had to get out. Or, she had to at least sit around the open courtyard in one of her more simpler outfits, hair in a loose braid, looking up at the sky, breathing the open air, half wondering what she'd be doing now if she were back home.
She had sat herself on a bench by the outside of the library, eyes closed as she inhaled for a quiet moment or two. Maybe she'll set out an examine the city, take a look at the ruins and remind herself that her title didn't mean much to the majority of the people here. She'll grant herself a vulnerable moment, Maker knows she's never allowed herself that much before at home.
Here it was different. But...she'd give anything to be back in Ferelden, even if foreigners did enjoy complaining about the apparent "wet dog" smell.
Location: the Hold's courtyard, and around the city close to the Hold
Characters: Anora and OPEN
Summary: Her Highness gets a bit stir crazy and has a bad case of wanderlust.
Warnings: TBD
The last time she had ventured out, she had been accosted by the Masked and tracked as though she were nothing more than a mage. It had been very embarrassing, and when she returned to the apartment a few minutes later after composing herself, she had locked herself in her room for a few hours. She didn't let anyone know, she wouldn't let anyone know. After all, it was foolish, but she was so blinded by the fact that she had to get out and had to get away while the apartment was now occupied by yet another individual that reason had been beyond her for a second or so.
But the Masked were gone for the time being, training had resumed, and she was free to wander as she pleased.
Suffice to say, despite enjoying being a queen, it was slightly refreshing to have been drawn back to her more simpler roots. Fooling around with a sword, allowing herself to get a speck of dirt here and there and breaking into a sweat now and again...it brought her back to her childhood days in Gwaren where it always smelled of fresh cut wood and fish, when both Mother and Father were alive and well and falling and skinning her knees was of the norm.
There was a slight frown as she thought of her youth, and she brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she made her way through the courtyard. Amazing how time flies, and how people come and go from your lives so quickly. Her memories of her father were fresh, and there were still some moments when she'd wake up in middle of the night and splash her face with hot water, convinced that his blood was still there.
This had been one of those moments where she had been feeling so jittery and ill at ease in the close space of her flat that she had to get out. Or, she had to at least sit around the open courtyard in one of her more simpler outfits, hair in a loose braid, looking up at the sky, breathing the open air, half wondering what she'd be doing now if she were back home.
She had sat herself on a bench by the outside of the library, eyes closed as she inhaled for a quiet moment or two. Maybe she'll set out an examine the city, take a look at the ruins and remind herself that her title didn't mean much to the majority of the people here. She'll grant herself a vulnerable moment, Maker knows she's never allowed herself that much before at home.
Here it was different. But...she'd give anything to be back in Ferelden, even if foreigners did enjoy complaining about the apparent "wet dog" smell.