Thread: To redeem, or to fall? (Saber Arturia x Belle Dujour)

Arion of house Sinclair was never a flighty young woman. She was never taken - as some her age were - by songs and long epic poems of knights in shining armor, maidens with flowers in their hair, and battles where good always triumphs over evil. There was no truth to it, only a very beautifully fabricated dream. And that was the trouble - dreams always ended. She more focused herself as a child with history, military battles, biographies of great women throughout the kingdom. Their stories, their legends, were unending because they were a part of something much greater than themselves. And not just being the object of a waifish desire. Arion would often ponder sometimes what her legacy would be. As a Princess there were limited options. She could not go out and engage in glorious battle, could not claim territories for her kingdom, or slay monstrous beasts. There was precious little she could do save for marriage and being the mother of a son who would take that claim to history. To immortality in the hearts and minds of all. And then came the day when Arion learned what that claim to history would be. Oh it would involve marriage alright...marriage to the most feared man in the entire world it seemed. Gabriel. The dark wolf. The vulture of the gods. The ruination of society. And she was to be his tribute. His bride. His concubine. His sacrifice. And there was nothing she could do. She ranted and raved, screamed at her father to find another way, but her father turned the cruel eyes of desperation away from her. It is what must be, he said, you are our last chance. Arion understood then. She must suffer...and perhaps die...so that others might live. Was that not...glorious? There was her immortality, her legacy. She would always be remembered as the poor, pitiful girl who was given tearfully up to the monster so they all would be saved. Like hell! When Arion left that night to meet Gabriel she knew how she wanted the droves to see her as she rode outside of the castle gates. With her hair curled and cosmetics applied as though she were a bride on her wedding day, she had a cloak wrapped around her tightly to cover her nearly naked body beneath it, and a confident smile on her face. Her auburn hair blew in the soft breeze of night, and her golden hazel eyes were fixed straight ahead as though she were a mighty general off to face the enemy. To bring glory. To bring salvation. To be their heroine. It was a damn good play...particularly since Arion herself was so frightened. She had prepared herself for both reactions. Either Gabriel would accept her as a bride and take her to his bed...or he would kill her. And she was resolved, should he choose the first option, to do her best to please him. If she were to do that then she could perhaps spare her people his wrath. There was no chance at heroism if she was dead. Near his home, Arion and her contingency of guards were met with his, and escorted to Gabriel's keep. Arion knew its history but she did not think of that. She could hardly think of anything save for the uncontrollable beating of her own heart as it nervously twitched in her chest. Her guards were told to wait at the door to the keep while her messenger - the one who would convey to her father whether or not Arion had been accepted - walked along side her. The poor fool looked as though he were staring death in the eyes. Arion kept her eyes on the ground for the most part as she was led to Gabriel's hall. Opening the door, his guard cleared his throat and gave way for her to enter. Princess Arion of house Sinclair, my Lord, the guard said. Arion knew better than to speak before spoken to and so she looked at the man who was to decide her fate, and she knelt down in a deep courtesy before him, saying nothing.