The dark was an escape from dreaded reality. The walls of shadows felt limitless around her, though the frigid claws traced her limbs, bitterly reminding her, even in this fathomless dream, where she was. A breath parted her lips at the sound of talking, faint as it was. Her eyes opened, only to catch sight of the cave she entered. Her body ached terribly, and as light pierced her eyes, she recalled what caused it.
The wyvern.
Immediately, she felt the constraints around her wrists, shackles kept her arms above her head. The wall was uncomfortable, probing at her back with jagged edges and points; Rivienne arched forward, and away from it, to avoid causing more distress upon her frame. Frantically, golden eyes searched for her dearest companion, finding that he was on his feet, but unable to move. Swords were drawn at his throat, but none found their mark into his flesh. The sense of relief was but a heartbeat, for dread soon sank into her bones. "Avenger," she barely could speak the words without swallowing to satiate her parched throat.
"No harm will come to him," a voice came from the dark; a figure in silhouette now emerges into the flicker of light, which is a torch held by one of the swordsmen. Emotion drains from her features and her concerns are swallowed into the pit of her stomach. Fear is absent in her eyes, but he could see the rebellious nature underneath their surface.
"Dravanian," her voice was steady and he soon tilts his head when she acknowledged what he was. A smile spreads like oil across his lips. Rivienne had not caught sight of that.
"Good, there is little need for me to introduce myself, not that such matters." He walked forward, masked in the facade of an Elezen. Robes of sapphire worked as a contrast to the pallor of his flesh. He looked her over, but dared not to approach.
"No crest of a House is presented on you, so one must wonder, if you are an unexpected adventurer, wandering about," his features darkened with each bold step taken forward, "..or a fool."
She said not a word, yet, her predatory gaze spoke volumes. Her fingers began wrapping around the chains that bound her shackles and she simply waited for his steps to shorten the distance between the two. Patience. Patience was always something she had. Every fiber of her being desired for her to act, for she felt the searing pain that came from such tight confines.
"I am neither, come closer, and I will speak of who I work for." Rivienne taunted with a come-hither gaze behind lowered, thick lashes. Her smile widened in a challenge, one he accepted. The Dravanian stepped close and began reaching behind him; she only had one opportunity to take some control of the situation. For her sake, and that of Avenger's.
A leg slides up along the wall, giving her enough room to push off of it. She grips the chains firmly, helping herself up so that her feet no longer touched the Earth. Both legs bend back, and with a sudden divorce of her muscular thighs, her knees slam into either side of his neck.
Pressure is suddenly applied, squeezing out the breath from his very lungs. Her countenance is unchanging. He grips at her legs, crawling at the layer of leather she worn, attempting to tear her legs away. His blade is forgotten, all that matters is the precious air that was not allowed passage.
"Release my companion, or he will face a humiliating death between my legs," The terse words are spoken between her teeth as she squeezed, curling her very toes as every ounce of strength is directed to her legs. The men surrounding Avenger toss down their blades; seems the man she caught was of importance. Good, his life had some meaning to them. Rivienne ignored the nails that punctured her flesh and the feeling of her own blood spreading underneath the coating of the hide adorning her.
"Maybe it is you who should do the releasing," the feminine voice oscillates throughout the vast cavern, from all directions. Soft it was, though it carried an air of authority as well. The Dravanian struggled to keep consciousness, but soon found relief from betwixt her knees. It was not the threat of him digging further into her legs which caused it. He crumbled suddenly, gasping for a breath that had eluded him, thanks to the wretched prisoner.
Rivienne's eyes found the figure who carried that voice in the air, ignoring the Dravanian all together. When the light graced her, the huntress fell silent and felt her feet touch the ground once more. Lips part as if to speak, but not a word came through. Instead, she stared at the woman approaching in a daze.
Her hair, of chestnut, fell around her crown, spilling down the high collar of her coat. A set of golden eyes, mirroring Rivienne's own, stared forward with the same intensity, yet tenderness was written in them upon seeing the chained woman, bound to the wall. The hem of her coat dragged behind her steps as she approached with little urgency. A time-less beauty she was, one who carried herself with elegance. Her cool hand emerges from the long sleeve worn and reached forth, brushing the back of her hand against Rivienne's bruised cheek. For a moment, the woman studied her, watching the distraught look that painted her countenance. Ah, she recognized the hunter; her eyes were lit with joy.
Rivienne felt her entire body grow numb as she realized the woman staring back at her. The woman she believed was lost. A woman who wrote about maddening experiments with the aetherflow. A woman . .
The voice disrupted her thoughts.
"..you certainly have grown, my little songbird."
The wyvern.
Immediately, she felt the constraints around her wrists, shackles kept her arms above her head. The wall was uncomfortable, probing at her back with jagged edges and points; Rivienne arched forward, and away from it, to avoid causing more distress upon her frame. Frantically, golden eyes searched for her dearest companion, finding that he was on his feet, but unable to move. Swords were drawn at his throat, but none found their mark into his flesh. The sense of relief was but a heartbeat, for dread soon sank into her bones. "Avenger," she barely could speak the words without swallowing to satiate her parched throat.
"No harm will come to him," a voice came from the dark; a figure in silhouette now emerges into the flicker of light, which is a torch held by one of the swordsmen. Emotion drains from her features and her concerns are swallowed into the pit of her stomach. Fear is absent in her eyes, but he could see the rebellious nature underneath their surface.
"Dravanian," her voice was steady and he soon tilts his head when she acknowledged what he was. A smile spreads like oil across his lips. Rivienne had not caught sight of that.
"Good, there is little need for me to introduce myself, not that such matters." He walked forward, masked in the facade of an Elezen. Robes of sapphire worked as a contrast to the pallor of his flesh. He looked her over, but dared not to approach.
"No crest of a House is presented on you, so one must wonder, if you are an unexpected adventurer, wandering about," his features darkened with each bold step taken forward, "..or a fool."
She said not a word, yet, her predatory gaze spoke volumes. Her fingers began wrapping around the chains that bound her shackles and she simply waited for his steps to shorten the distance between the two. Patience. Patience was always something she had. Every fiber of her being desired for her to act, for she felt the searing pain that came from such tight confines.
"I am neither, come closer, and I will speak of who I work for." Rivienne taunted with a come-hither gaze behind lowered, thick lashes. Her smile widened in a challenge, one he accepted. The Dravanian stepped close and began reaching behind him; she only had one opportunity to take some control of the situation. For her sake, and that of Avenger's.
A leg slides up along the wall, giving her enough room to push off of it. She grips the chains firmly, helping herself up so that her feet no longer touched the Earth. Both legs bend back, and with a sudden divorce of her muscular thighs, her knees slam into either side of his neck.
Pressure is suddenly applied, squeezing out the breath from his very lungs. Her countenance is unchanging. He grips at her legs, crawling at the layer of leather she worn, attempting to tear her legs away. His blade is forgotten, all that matters is the precious air that was not allowed passage.
"Release my companion, or he will face a humiliating death between my legs," The terse words are spoken between her teeth as she squeezed, curling her very toes as every ounce of strength is directed to her legs. The men surrounding Avenger toss down their blades; seems the man she caught was of importance. Good, his life had some meaning to them. Rivienne ignored the nails that punctured her flesh and the feeling of her own blood spreading underneath the coating of the hide adorning her.
"Maybe it is you who should do the releasing," the feminine voice oscillates throughout the vast cavern, from all directions. Soft it was, though it carried an air of authority as well. The Dravanian struggled to keep consciousness, but soon found relief from betwixt her knees. It was not the threat of him digging further into her legs which caused it. He crumbled suddenly, gasping for a breath that had eluded him, thanks to the wretched prisoner.
Rivienne's eyes found the figure who carried that voice in the air, ignoring the Dravanian all together. When the light graced her, the huntress fell silent and felt her feet touch the ground once more. Lips part as if to speak, but not a word came through. Instead, she stared at the woman approaching in a daze.
Her hair, of chestnut, fell around her crown, spilling down the high collar of her coat. A set of golden eyes, mirroring Rivienne's own, stared forward with the same intensity, yet tenderness was written in them upon seeing the chained woman, bound to the wall. The hem of her coat dragged behind her steps as she approached with little urgency. A time-less beauty she was, one who carried herself with elegance. Her cool hand emerges from the long sleeve worn and reached forth, brushing the back of her hand against Rivienne's bruised cheek. For a moment, the woman studied her, watching the distraught look that painted her countenance. Ah, she recognized the hunter; her eyes were lit with joy.
Rivienne felt her entire body grow numb as she realized the woman staring back at her. The woman she believed was lost. A woman who wrote about maddening experiments with the aetherflow. A woman . .
The voice disrupted her thoughts.
"..you certainly have grown, my little songbird."
![[Image: jqza5eX.png]](http://i.imgur.com/jqza5eX.png)
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.â€
Rivienne Delacroux ♚ Bowmaiden's Tumblr
