#eaglebearor

     The weight of expectation shouldn’t have been so heavy on her shoulders. Behaving was simple enough in theory, but with the ever-constant nagging to stand a little straighter or smile a little prettier looming over her like a bad fucking nightmare, her patience runs thin. She has never hated those fancy soirees her father liked throwing. The pomp and propriety of them often bored her half to death, and unlike the many that had come before this one, Anne hadn’t been successful in skulking off to her bedroom to wait for it all to pass. Despite being a woman hurtling towards twenty, there had been no end to the slew of over-eager and very distant relatives whose faces she could not remember whose fingers pinch hard at her cheeks and tell her how pretty of a woman she’s growing up to be. They tell her that she looks like her mother, and her father’s lips press into a thin line.

     Anne doesn’t think that William ever truly got over her mum. He pretends like he has. Goes on dates, sometimes, but it was often difficult to miss that little shine of hurt that bleeds through the stoicism of his expression when he looks at her a little too long. It’s a weird feeling, knowing that someone looking at her hurt them. Suppose that was the price of falling in love. Something might happen and that something might shatter her heart into a thousand pieces. Such was the price of falling in love, she supposes. It hurt him enough that he’d moved them to Greece when she was thirteen, anyway.

      She has been blessed with a ferocious temper and a finite amount of patience. Anne tries her hardest to keep her cool, but one sharp pinch and tug of her cheek is what frays that last, little thread of it. She smacks the hand away and snaps, “Stop fuckin’ doin’ that-” Loud enough to turn a few heads. Her dad’s included. Yikes. He was never one of those people who would lift a hand to her, but listening to him after the fact would have been more of a ballache than she was willing to deal with.

@eaglebearor    said   :  ❛ They say that time heals all things —- they say you can always forget. ❜                                     ------   alexios  &  kassandra

SHE  REMEMBERS  THE  BOTTOM  OF  A  MOUNTAIN   ------the  betrayal  of  a  father,   the  loss  of  a  brother.   she  remembers  a  family  torn  apart  by  the  word  of  one  man,  her  own  rage,   her  mother’s  sobs   ------and  kassandra  knows  she  can  never  forget. 

          ❛  they  seem  to  do  a  lot  of  talking,   it’s  a  wonder  how  anyone  keeps  track  of  the  great  many  things  they  say.  ❜     it’s   flippant,    an  air  of  indifference  in  a  place  where  that  couldn’t  be  further  from  the  truth.   but  she’s  come  too  far  in  search  of  binding  the  wounds  of  the past,   too  far  to  pretend  she  might  simply  forget.   how  has  he  not  felt  the  same  need   ------just  a  babe  sent  to  his  death,   does  he  not  feel  that  same  thirst,   the  same  aching  desire  to  right  all  of  the  wrongs  done  to  them?    

perhaps  he  simply  cannot   remember,   perhaps  no  one  told  him  the  truth.   

“I’m sorry I don’t have a dagger to throw at you this time.” She said, approaching with a bright grin with hands on her hips as he left his ship towards her. Since her guards were former rebels they had stayed back and were just grinning in celebration of the eagle bearer’s return. 

“One more night alone I’ll go insane.”

She says it without realizing it’s out loud, and like it’s intentional she take a sip of her drink without flinching or pause. Maybe it’s the crowds around her. All she knows is that the stranger beside her has undoubtedly heard by the way she’s now being stared at.