Thread: Icy Heart (Books and darjeeling)

Kaira Leonhart was one of the few in the mass of faces that had protested against the use of a shortcut. But her voice was not amongst the majority and thus, had been drowned out quite effectively as the caravan trundled onwards and deeper into the Northern Shiverpeaks. The woman had hit her twenty-sixth birthday not a few days ago and disguised as one of her gifts, had been sent out of Lion's Arch to Divinity's Reach to meet men she had never heard of, much less know. It had been made apparent to her after the third meeting that her father had conducted this entire arduous process of finding her a proper suitor. Her family was far from royalty, but she fared from one of the smaller noble houses and her parental figures were very much interested in finding an heir. So interested that she found herself being shipped off all the way to Ascalon and what in all of Tyria was there save for ghosts of the past and Charr? Similar thoughts continued to churn about Kaira's mind, usually pushing to the forefront and subsequently forming a rather snooty frown on her ivory-toned face. Her means of transport was not the most luxurious. In fact, judging by the way the wagon squeaked and rocked, it was far from being as much. She sighed her parents usually took shows of modesty all too seriously and was under the firm belief that by avoiding a noble's penchant for showing off, remaining 'under the radar' would surely bring in more suitors. So far they had not taken Kaira's stubbornness into account. With only one male guard by her side who preferred to fight than to talk, no one was going to stop her from acting incredibly disinterested towards any man who dared to approach her, regardless of a pretty face. She knew she was nearing that age where she would no longer be young and beautiful but that was just it -- she didn't seem to care. Gerard-- Kaira began to say, eager for some conversation when all hell broke loose. The shouting came first, screaming from outside the caravan and Gerard's burly hand shot out to slam her back into her seat, his other hand gripping tightly against his sword as he shook his head. Stay. He growled gruffly before leaping out of the caravan with the flames of battle raging in his eyes. Kaira's heart beat like a shallow drum, faster than she had ever recalled. She knew something like this would happen! The sound of steel against steel and steel into flesh filled the air like a twisted melody and the woman dressed in silk pressed her palms against her ears as she huddled down in the caravan, praying to Balthazar to give her courage. She could not recall being pulled roughly from the caravan, only that she was crying and kicking at her captor, scratching at their armor and breaking several nails in the process. A slap against her face was effective enough to stop her wild shrieking though it was painfully obvious to see that she was trying so very hard not to break down. The smell of burning flesh singed her olfactory senses, the caw of carrion birds already loud enough to wince at. She knew of these barbarians, Norn who sought satisfaction in the thrill of plunder and destruction. This was the first time Kaira had come to experience the seeds of despair they sowed and already she had grown to despise them. She had to hold back the bile rising to her throat as she was shoved into line with some of the other survivors but Kaira refused to make eye contact with any of them. She was not close with her fellow travelers or with her guard, but their sorrow and anguish would only lend to her own. There were no birds that sang in the morning, only the occasional squawk as the crows noisily dug into their meal and what would normally be the normally comforting sound of crackling fire only caused Kaira to grimace and walk when told. She wanted to be gone from the place as quickly as possible. Her honey-blonde hair was a mess, her braid tangled and loose strands falling over her face and shoulders. The dirt smeared on her face detracted from her normally noble features, her eyes a dark blue-grey and stormy which seemed to fit the sullen mood. Her furs had been ripped from her shoulders, leaving her bare arms shivering to the wintery atmosphere and it sickened her to think that she felt relieved when they were shoved through great double doors and into the warmth of a very, very spacious hall. Kaira took in the rambunctious crowd with hatred swelling in her breast, though she knew better than to speak. A man stepped forward, the top of his scalp as bare as his honor, Kaira scoffed to herself. The woman to whom the Norn warrior, Olong, spoke to was one of almost immense proportion. Eyes the color of the sky, hair as red as the flames that burned in the night and a strong jaw adorned by a single scar. Marred, Kaira corrected herself, her gaze falling away from their interaction and to the glinting knives that decorated the walls. Barbarians, all of them. Uncaring bastards who would attack innocent people just to satiate their own boredom. She doubted any of them knew what an honest day's work was and it was these ugly thoughts Karia filled her mind with as the woman casually stood. Kaira recalled her name Adela . If she was the one who orchestrated the raid then she would not be seen cowering beneath her gaze, however powerful. The noble stood tall, despite her disheveled appearance, her dark eyes almost glaring at the monstrous woman when it was her turn to be looked over. Though her arms fell by her side loosely, her hands were clenched, her neck craning upwards to even meet eye-to-eye with Adela. It was an act of defiance and nothing more, with Kaira never actually daring to make any sort of move that implied as much. It shone in her expression hiding her feelings away was never a strong point for the smaller woman as she very much wore her anger on her sleeve as much as every other emotion. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance. Kaira spoke simply, though the venom seeping into her tone was very much noticeable.