#antleredlion

[canispostignis]

+4 were barking up the wrong tree.

antleredlion

twin-talons

legacy-of-blood

the-rightful-king-of-erebor

{ —†—♞ } ❝ Go on then...

                                     Make it quick...

                 Before I choke you with your own windpipe.  ❞ 

[hawkearchive]

{fOR THE SAKE OF TRADITION} I demand the K BI

6: Gentle Peck

Sweat stained her forehead and her muscles ached but she dare not stop. The clatter of armour rattling up the hall behind her marked the path of the guards that followed her, but the incompetent fools were too slow, too stupid. What assassin takes the direct route to the King? Her foes would think that the most certain path, and she was no fool. She would not be caught before she reached that forsaken room.

Of course there was the matter of the two at his door that stood on alert, but the unbridled rage of an elder sibling was not one to be tested. She had a blade in each hand for both, and it was not long before they were blades in two deadened necks. The eldest Hawke paid no ceremony in booting the door wide open, the thick door very nearly cracking with the force of the strike.

Joffrey sat lackadaisical, caressing his crossbow as though he thought it a lover. It was tightly strung, and her teeth grit tightly as she stalked across to him only to be halted by the tiniest whimper. Her movements paused with bloodied blade pointed at his neck, sights drawn to the source of the sound. Her gaze followed the point of the bow to where her sister lay bound. The gag around her mouth was soaked with tears, and she shook her head violently as Hawke’s heart sank but she dared not move a muscle.

His finger was on the trigger.

Enraged attentions turned back to the boy King and her grip on her blade tightened, never moving more than an inch from his neck. He simply looked up at her, with that smug, shit-eating smirk plastered upon his lips. It was infuriating, and were it not for the armour clad men that thundered to a stop behind her, halting only because she would faster shove the blade through his throat than they could end her, she might have taken her time to carve it from his vicious features.

"You will let her go," she hissed threateningly. "Or I will kill you where you sit. With your men behind me I am dead anyway, do not think I fear it."

He snickered, and her lip instantly curled, the dagger closing the gap by half and her arm beginning to shake with the power of her anger.

"But then your sister will die. You do fear that, don’t you?”

She remained silent, not trusting herself as her breath came like steam from a dragons nostril’s. Still, Joffrey did not move, his finger idly stroking the trigger as his expression only became all the more infuriating.

"She is pretty though, wouldn’t you agree? I would like to keep her.”

He will kill her faster than you can kill him.

"She’d make a very nice toy for my collection."

He will kill her faster than you can kill him.

"Or perhaps I’ll leave her to my guards after they kill you."

He will kill her faster than you can kill him.

"Get on your knees, kiss my hand and swear that you love your King, and I will set her free."

A pause. A hesitation. A single relaxation. This was unexpected. It was an opportunity. She had to come this far, she had not forsaken her own life to allow Bethany to lose hers. Knowing Joffrey’s insatiable enjoyment for a spectacle there would be time yet before her execution. Time to escape again. To help Bethany escape. 

Her gaze flickered over to her sister and there was a plea in her eyes as vigorous as the shake of her head. It was hard to read through tears. But Fae always knew what was best for Bethany. She fell to a knee. Slowly, the blade was retracted. She leaned into the offered hand, pressed a kiss to the finger usually adorned with a ring for such ceremony. Her voice was like gravel, throat suddenly dry as she coughed the words forth.

"I swear that I love my King," The words sounded forced, she knew. They were squeezed between her gullet and the pride she was attempting to swallow, much to Joffrey’s delight. "For he is just and generous." It might as well have been a hiss.

"Good girl."

I am not a dog.

It was bitten back, swallowed abruptly as the sound of air slicing before her ears caught her attention. The bolt might as well have hit her for how it forced the air from her lungs, and her lips parted before she turned to see the blood that spurted from her sister’s mouth, the bolt that protruded from her throat.

Hawke’s breath came gasped and her body fell limp, so caught with the pain of what felt like hot molten silver filling her veins that she did not react when Joffrey took her chin. She was pliable in his hands as he tilted her face up to her, a snide and unbearably pleased smile curling his thin lips.

"She was given mercy. The guards can have you."

[iwillnotcringe-archive]

{I happened to come by your blog and I need to say that as someone who's also Autistic, your all your favs are Autistic tag makes me damned happy. And I wanted to say thank you for creating those posts. It means so much.}

I'm glad you like them, it always means a lot to me when people say it made them happy !!