Thread: The Mighty Holy Sword of the Hawthorne's (Celeste & CheesusKrust)

Somewhere in the palace of the royal family, it was said to be hidden a priceless treasure. That treasure was the Holy Sword, the obvious property of the Hawthorne's. A mere nobody forgotten by most in an isolated place and simply taken care of because of a piece of metal. Yes, this Holy Sword, was also a person. In fact, it wasn't sure even now, if both the woman, and the metal was the sword. What was for sure, though, was that the sword was never held by anyone, and that the mere times it was lightly touched was when this woman felt at ease. For some reason, it was believed that the only one who would be able to get the sword would first have to gain the trust of this mysterious being who called herself Freya. However, nobody managed to do that. And after many failed attempts, they gave up and just decided it was a good idea to keep her there, locked away from the outside world and away from the enemies' eyes. If the Hawthorne's couldn't have the sword, nobody else could, so to speak. This is how this young woman only saw a glimpse of the real world, the little and only window to her room providing little sight over the town. Yet, in all these years she was alive, she had seen enough to know most of the people didn't care about her, but only about the sword bound to her. They were greedy, selfish and ignorant. But she had no other choice. She couldn't escape this immense cage she was locked in. She was doomed to probably die there, along with some other treasures of the royal family. She had more or less lost faith in people, and it was thus, no wonder that the sword was more likely to never be touched. The caramel haired woman was slowly losing her will to live with each day that passed. Her chambers weren't really that ugly. In fact, they were royally decorated and furnished, but only gave off a cold feeling given how she was alone most of the times. Her 'den' consisted of a bedroom, another room that served as a bathroom and another bigger room connected to the corridor that leaded to her place in which resided most of the expensive treasures of the Hawthorne's. Though, the latter was always locked and even she had no access to it. Not that she could use any of those things anyway. Nevertheless, the most worrisome and detestable thing was that lately the maids weren't showing up anymore. She wasn't fed properly anymore, and it only made her feel weaker. She was starting to wonder if the king almost forgot about her. Hell, she wasn't asking for this. She only needed her freedom, she didn't ask to be kept in there, fed only when they felt like it. Still, there was this person who sometimes came over with food. And she was sure he wasn't one of the workers. Freya didn't know the royal family too well, strangely enough. She knew only the king's face, and thus she could only assume this young man was someone of the royal family, or maybe even some noble. She never dared to ask who he was. But mostly because she never talked. She kept silent, and only glanced back at people. She knew talking would get her in trouble. They would ask questions. She preferred playing the mute. Still, lately she felt the urge to talk to him. Strange. She currently sat by the little window, facing away from the door, sword somewhere on the queen sized bed. She yearned to see more of that light, more of the outside world.