Cursed into Silence

What the hell was with this woman?

"Listen, lady, if you need something I’ll hand ya off to someone that … that knows how to read but I can’t see how I can help you."

She was looking for a sword, a sword that had belonged to her kingdom and if the tablets in the mine read correctly it was in a chest in some sort of temple outside the city.

The goddess pond.

Leaning back away from the woman as she gets all close and personal, flushing a deep, tomato red. “G-G-Gods, back off will ya—?” Swallowing an anxious lump in his throat, his face starting to perspire.

Huffing she placed her hands on her hips, watching him wince in pain before sighing and taking out her small silken bag again and pulling out a band-aid that seemed to be covered in pictures of cats.

She had stolen in from the waitress at the little Bar in the valley, but it had just been sitting out where anyone could take it.

Shrugging and walking over to the mirror she gazed at her reflection, seemingly lost in thought. 

Watching her draw, not at all sure where this is going and wanting a direct answer above all. Furrows his brow, taking the drawing pad from her and studying the crude sketch. “Huh … almost looks like some kid drawing of a Prin—” Dylas was promptly cut off as the voiceless woman mouthed the word, “Princess.”

"W-Wait a sec, you’re a—" Shakes his head, feeling frustrated with himself for not figuring it out sooner. The precious gems, intricate clothing, and snotty attitude— of course she was royalty of some sort. "J-Jeez, so you’re some sort of Princess friend of Princess Frey’s then?" Huffs, rolling his eyes, "just what we need …"

"..." A single eyebrow arched judgingly.

Watching him fret and fuss, pacing back and forth was giving her a headache. How could one man be so... so... infuriating! The obvious next step was to process this and succumb to her every whim, that's what people back in her continent did!

Grabbing him by the collar her docile facade faded and she stared right at him, lip curl into the beginning of a snap. She mouthed her words slowly and clearly.

Read my lips.

Shaking his head, rubbing the back of his neck, “I dunno what else yer trying t’say, lady … D’ya need me to take you to the clinic? You sick or something?”

Cripes, this was going to be hard. He’d have her write out what she was trying to say but in the past thirteen hours he still didn’t fully understand how to read.

You furry buffoon, I have here enough jewels to buy a small village and yet for you to not realize my wealth could only point to my magnificent royal lineage.

Blinks in surprise upon seeing the “sleeping beauty” bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, so to speak. “Er—” offers an awkward wave of his hand, “hey. You uh, you feeling better? Ya didn’t look so good when I left you.”

Clearing his throat, he took a step towards her, watching Keira brush out her long, locks of black hair.

"… … …"

Her note.

Her hands flew to her pockets only to find the book missing and she sighed noiselessly, knowing this would be a bit of a hassle.

Looking around the room she saw a portrait of... their king? Was it normal for foreign countries to hang pictures of monarchs in such intimate places? Different cultures, she supposed.

Taking long graceful strides she covered the king's face and pointed to the crown, and then pointed to herself. She pointed to her mouth and then shook her head. She pointed out the window to zepplin's in the distance, and then pointed to herself again.

Smacks her hand away from his nose, gritting his teeth together in frustration. Opens his mouth to retort when he notices how … tired, tired and sad she seemed. Stays quiet for a few moments, his brow knitted in something just short of concern.

"… Fine."

Ah right, the angry man with the periwinkle hair.

Crossing the room to peer in the mirror hanging on the wall she took a small silk bag out of her gown, containing a comb and some cosmetics- beginning to meticulously groom herself for the day.

Gods, as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t read a word of what she wrote onto the scrap of paper. As much as his reading and writing was coming along, he still couldn’t piece together the words into a coherent sentence.

Crumbling the paper in his hand, he threw it behind his shoulder.

"… … …"

Leaning over her, his periwinkle-colored hair falling in front of his face as he looked down onto the sleeping beauty with a half-lidded gaze. “…”

Gently grasping her shoulders, leaning down further …

"WAKE UP NOW.”

When the shaking ceased and she just lay there, this livid man holding her by the shoulders she felt anger. Reaching one hand up she had to stop herself from slapping him, and gods did she want do.

She settled for pinching his nose hard and staring deep into his eyes, pouring into him, trying to win this battle of spirits.

But she couldn't.

Her anger couldn't be fueled on her emptiness, her gaze turning sad and tired, her hand losing the energy to even hold his nose, and falling uselessly to her side.

Standing with him she nodded her head, not against the idea of seeing some more of the Valley if she was to be living here permanently. 

Watches her tug on his hand, placing a leather pouching in his hands. “What the hell is this?” Tugging it open, rubies, emeralds, and aquamarine gems among other stones fall out onto his hand. “… … …” Stares at the gems, “…” stares at Keira, “…” Who was this lady?

Before he has a chance to say anything, she crawls into his bed and shuts her eyes as it appears she’s falling asleep— on his bed. “W-What the hell! Oi’, sleeping beauty—!”

The sages of her time has once spoken of a demon-like creature: a man with animal like features that was bedazzled and awe-struck by jewels, so why wasn't it working.

Pulling the blankets above her head she attempted to block out the noise, groaning inwardly- beginning to grow frustrated with Dylas' lack of cooperation. 

Sleepily, and with much difficulty she wrote a note- before finally drifting off.

Flinches as the note is nearly pressed to her face. She reads over it slowly, having to squint at the paper a bit to read what was written “Are you Jack’s betrothed?” A guilty blush overcame her, “W-what? No, it’s not like that. We’re just friends! “

Everything was rightfully hers, so it did not matter.

Pointing at the floor, she ordered the girl to sit before sliding her another note.

Nodding at him she fiddled with the page of her notebook, pretending to care about any sort of payment. Discounts didn't concern her, it was not her money being spent, but she would certainly pretend to.

I shall stay here while you gather my things then.

...

His ears folded back against his head as the strange woman uncurled his fingers from the quilt. “W-What are you doing? Don’t touch me!” The sudden contact brought a bit of color to his cheeks.

Ah, so she wasn’t going to give up on the blanket, was she? Gods, why was it so important to her—!?

Walking after her at a quick pace, “no, no, no, I don’t know who the hell you think you are but—” yanks the blanket from her grasps once more, “this is mine and I’m not giving it up to some weird girl that just wants to waltz into m’room and take it for her own—!”

Following the tired man into his room silently, waiting for him to make his bed again and prepare for bed she tugged his arm, pulling a pouch of gems out of her pocket and placing it in his hands.

Take the bribe you ungrateful peasant, you should be thanking me for my generosity, and crying over the gift of my presence.

She scribbled quickly, not able to contain her excitement.

Living in a cave was not how she had expected to live out the prime of her adulthood.

"..." He was right, the mine was almost right in the heart of the Valley, and it was much closer to the ocean- oh how she loved to gaze at the crashing waves under the stars.

Where am I supposed to live? The street?

Like Murray? With no bed?

When she handed him the rest of the sandwich, he smiled gently at her and said. “Thank you.” He looked down at it and back to her, unsure whether or not he needed her permission to eat it or not. Even though he made it, Keira always ended up stepping all over him whenever she was around. Jack did not really understand why he let her, but she was a kind ruler. Then he saw what she wrote next,

Imbecile.

Shrugging her shoulders she let out a silent sigh. The mines weren't safe, she would be the first one to admit it. Cave ins, extremely cold temperatures, the occasional "grave robber"-- but it was the remnants of her lost kingdoms. The stone tablets were the only clues to the fall of her people, the only place she could find the answer she was looking for.

What had happened to Azan?

She remembered her first few days awake after the curse had broken, sobbing silently on the save floor, legs too weak to carry her anywhere, staring at the tomb she was locked in by that despicable witch.

Keira wrote slowly, sadly, passing the paper across the table. Only three words, the only way she could describe how much it would hurt her to leave.