#sarrine

The orc bent to help pick up some of the fallen things from Sarrine’s spilled luggage and large fingers took up this picture. Green eyes ran over it, from black shoes up shapely legs to the tendon at the back of her thigh. He tried not to grunt, hues trailing to the smallest hint of cleavage peeking out of that shirt, and then finally to her face and those expressive all-knowing eyes. 

Drake, from Sarrine

Attractiveness:

repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike ||holy fuck there are no words

Personality:

grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward ||unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging ||affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered|| bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous|| dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted ||  egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive ||intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming ||badass || flexible

How likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends ||friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend ||

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me ||they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me|| they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them ||I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

How good of a kisser:

Drake had went headlong into battle with his men. He wasn't a King who sat back on his horse as some sort of powerful figurehead. He'd lead them. He'd cut and hacked his way through the opposing men with his battle axes. They'd crushed the opposing forces, trampled them beneath their feet and Drake had landed on the other ruler's doorstep with surprising ease, standing like a blood thirsty, crazed statue. In the end, Drake's power trip got the best of him. Ruling over another King? Yes. He liked it, and he had allowed the man to live. He would allow the man to enjoy his life and his land, but ultimately - Drake owned it and would make sure that it was being taken care of properly. Now back home, he was in his throne room, comfortable, sitting for a moment and drinking his brandy, his eyes closed as the other man was announced as having arrived.

It had been a grueling battle and Sarrine had watched the two rulers face off from a secluded hideaway. The palace was full of them, false walls, hidden stairwells and Sarrine knew them all. They came in terribly handy when she needed to get away from it all. She watched as the man she called husband begged for his life and was granted it as if was some trifling thing, unworthy of Lorag to dirty his hands over. And then, there it was... a grateful king, eager to show his thanks by parting with one of his fine brides. The opposition seemed reluctant, but a week later they arrived at the throne room to honor the deal made, the defeated king and his eight wives. All dressed in differing colors, and all shrouded by a long, elegant veil that started at the top of their heads and rested at the hem of their gowns.

Drake stayed seated when the man came in, his eyes running to each woman who came in. He couldn't see their faces, only the shapes of their bodies. Mostly, his mind went to this man, and how he'd ever gotten the notion that more than one woman was ever a good idea. Women were a lot of work and time and energy and Drake knew he wouldn't have had the patience to deal with two, let alone eight. He gave a lift of a lofty brow and those light eyes went to the man "Is there a reason for the veils?"

"I-it's tradition in my kingdom... A wife must be veiled when given to her husband and since... well, I just thought..." He drifted off, shrinking away under the high-handed gaze of the king, grimacing and stepping back, away from his wives. "You can unveil them if you would like. I promise you each is a beauty worthy of a king."

"The sentiment is appreciated... but not needed." He stood slowly to regard the women from his vantage point up those small steps "Ladies... unveil yourselves." He'd watch as each woman brought back her veil and his eyes would slide over their faces as if they were part of his military and he was prepared to hand out demerits. He wasn't drooling like a lustful pervert over their bodies, he was... openly judging their beauty without ever saying a word. .They were all beautiful, most definitely and he continued his gaze past Sarrine without a hitch just like the others, but once he was down the line, his eyes shot back to that dark beauty immediately. His mind was made up, had been, but he'd given everyone their fair shot. "You..." he said to Sarrine coming down the steps, approaching her, and lifting his hand to cradle her chin and lift it ever higher to for her eyes to greet his "What's your name?"

She unveiled herself, just as the others did, the white fog lifted to display the rainbow of women before him. Their gowns were exquisite, only the best for them, and the range of colors was nothing short of breathtaking. A beautiful gown for a beautiful woman, and they were all... beautiful. But as he cast his eyes over them, he met only one gaze. Dutifully, the women cast their eyes at the floor, submissively trained in their purpose. But Sarrine's dark eyes met his with no shame or fear, and when he approached her soon afterwards, her chin lifted ever higher, watching him intently. He asked her name, and her lips parted to answer, but it came spilling from her husband first. "Sarrine, sir. H-her name is Sarrine. She's... well, she's a fine woman, but I think you'd be better served with one of the others, really."

The man answered and without removing his hand from Sarrine's chin, his gaze slipped to him. "I didn't speak to you." he nearly growled and his eyes went back to Sarrine. "Sarrine..." he stated quietly. "Who are you to look at me with such confidence while the other women are cowering submissively?" he asked, though it wasn't a reprimand. "Why does your husband think others would be better suited?"

The man shut up, raising his hands in a second surrender, and letting Drake do as he wished. Sarrine smiled faintly up at the man holding her jaw, dark, amber-red eyes blinking ever so slowly at him. "I do not believe a coward to be a fitting wife for a conqueror. Surely you have others who would cower before you." She could hear the sharp intake of breath from her current husband as she spoke. Clearly he thought it was a bad idea. "I have no need to fear you in order to submit myself to you. As for my husband. He would have you chose another, as he paid a hefty sum for my hand and would rather not part with the investment."

Drake actually gave her a half smile at that. "Very smart woman indeed." His hand left her and he stepped back, his eyes running over her once more as if to guess what the man had paid before giving a small smirk to him. "I've made my choice." his choice was clear. "If I wanted dainty flowers I'd just fill my castle with your men." he stated to the man and then his gaze went to Sarrine "I choose you."

Sarrine's eyes lit up when he teased the man about his soldiers. It wasn't prudent to laugh, and so she held it inside, but she was easily read in that moment, so obvious in her amusement that she doubted if everyone didn't see it. He chose her and she gave him that same, small smile, bowing her head in acceptance. Honestly, she was glad to be rid of her husband. Fool of a man didn't truly understand her potential. She was more than a pretty face, and she deserved better than to have been one of EIGHT.

Her eyes lit up and Drake could tell he'd like her already. Those eyes wreaked of intelligence and that struck him. She was a pretty face, but she was also a lifted chin and confidence... and confidence was a sexy thing. Drake wouldn't do well with a simpering woman afraid of his touch or to speak openly to him in private. This was to be a marriage, and unlike this man's country - Loragian's only had one wife. Why waste it on a woman who'd walk behind you with her head held down, afraid of your wrath? He was spoiled and sexist, yes, but he also appreciated the thought of a partner. "Bring her things to the palace. My choice is made. We'll be married tomorrow." he looked to the man "Don't feel bad about your investment - it just saved your life."

He made his choice, demanded for her things to be brought to the castle and as he spoke to the man, Sarrine pursed her lips quietly, waiting for her new king to be finished speaking before she stepped forward a little. "Your majesty? If I may ask one, small favor? You may consider it a wedding gift of sorts..." She waited until that green gaze returned to her and her voice dropped so that only he would be privy to the request. "This man has struck me in the past, and now that I am free of him, I would very much like to strike him in return." It wasn't a terribly ladylike request, but she had years to prove to him how sweet and demure she could be. Today she wanted to see the fucker's jaw swell.

Hazel green hues did drift to hers when she spoke and his brow lifted in acceptance of her requesting a favor. When he heard what it was, his gaze cut to the man and he took a step back, bowing his head "Yes, but make it good." It was an almost territorial tone to his voice. Loragian men didn't take well to men battering women and she may have known that, or maybe she didn't, but she'd learn. If she got out of hand, sure, Drake would put her over his knee, but he'd never abuse her. Discipline was an odd thing here. He gestured for her to go to the man and his eyes stayed there, and when she did it, he'd be nearly threatening the man to reciprocate.

She bowed her head gratefully to him and returned to bid her husband a not-so-fond farewell. He didn't see it coming, though he really ought to have. The only thing that had kept her in line before was the fact that he was her husband, and now that she belonged to another man she was no longer bound to serve this one. It was no dainty slap she assaulted him with. No, this was a closed fist with a wealth of power and pent anger to fuel it. She struck him only once, but it was enough to have him clutching the wall, stumbling back a few feet and staring at her in shock, eyes demanding retribution from the king who, in turn, was daring him to make an issue of it. Shaking out the pain in her knuckles, she drew in a deep, dignified breath and turned to return to Drake. "Thank you, your majesty. I abhor loose ends."

Drake's arms crossed over his chest as he watched her punch the man like she herself had some gonads resting between her legs and there was a wealth of appreciation that swelled in him. He'd chosen correctly. Though - if she felt the need to ever hit him, no doubt his reaction would be far far different. The man looked up at him and Drake merely shook his head. "If I find out you have laid a hand on any of your wives after today - I will cut that hand off. Do we have an understanding? That gives you two swings before you're nothing but a man with nubs." he looked to the women "He harms you - and you tell a Loragian man at post in your palace. Do you all understand?"

The women looked amongst themselves, but frowned and gave him a short nod of agreement. Sarrine gave Drake a thankful smile and found herself thanking her stars for this turn of events. Already she found him a much more agreeable person, and though their marriage was set in so short a date, she found herself... almost excited to be rid of that last chapter and moving on to the next. The man and his wives left the audience chamber and Sarrine was left behind in her new home, with her new husband, waiting for him to assign someone to show her her room.

It had been weeks since Drake Eden, King of Lorag, had sailed from her shores. It had been weeks since their impromptu mating, since she’d felt the heat of his body above her and the power of his barbaric lineage in every brutal thrust. 

He’d left with a small gift: a mahogany box that held a small slip of paper locked away inside. And on that slip of paper, in intricate calligraphy, she had written his weakness - a wager between them as to whether or not she could guess it. She had written the weakness of the man whose kinsmen called a tiger for his ferocity.

Now, as she sat at her desk, she smiled faintly at the memory of his touch, out on the balcony, during a ball, and tapped her dry quill against her parchment thoughtfully before dipping it into the inkwell.

Your Majesty,

It has been only a fortnight since your departure, but I find myself with a rare amount of free time and so I hope you won’t find me too forward in sending you a letter so soon. 

I hope this letter finds you in good health and better spirits and that your journey from my lands was peaceful and all-together dull. I have heard that the seas this past week have been a horror to even the most stalwart of sailors, and I pray that the storms swept in only after your vessel was free on the area.

By the time you receive this, spring will be in full bloom in Anaria. The gardens have already started budding in preparation and the array of colors are promising. It’s warm enough to have lured out the songbirds, and so every morning I am greeted by a family of robins that have chosen the tree outside my chambers to nest within. 

It is a time for new beginnings. A time for new life, and new chapters for those already living. Perhaps, in my story, I shall find reason to finally visit your shores.

I have heard that Lorag is hot and humid and that you rarely see snowfall, even in the depths of winter. It seems an ideal place to vacation during the dark months, but I have yet to see it for myself. And you cannot always believe the gossip of maidens and minstrels. 

Tell me, your highness... what is Lorag like in the spring? Stories claim it is a hard land, and I imagine it must be to have carved men from mountains... but surely there is some beauty to it. Something delicate and fragile, in contrast to all else.

Or perhaps Lorag is still searching for its softer side.

Eagerly awaiting your reply, Sarrine Kalkaiyn High Queen of Anaria

I don’t know that I have 15 people to tag, because I have become a recluse on here, but if anyone would like to do it I’ll totes pass it on to you. Also awwww you think I’m nice. You have been misled.

One time I found a pony in the mall parking lot while Christmas shopping and it’s still the weirdest thing to happen to me.

I walk with a limp! It’s pretty subtle and most people don’t see it but when I get tired or for some reason when I’m carrying things (???) people see it and ask what happened and idk what to tell them. 

I have one more year to go on finishing a degree in history and ngl I kind of regret that because I don’t actually want to work in the history field but hey it’s something.

I’m currently living in London. In case there was anyone left who didn’t know that about me like I don’t shout it every five minutes.

I hated every single one of my teachers in high school so much I get actually pissed off when people had these inspirational teachers because I feel like dude where the fuck were mine? They all just told me my writing was shit. 

I’ve had a lot of anxiety and issues with depression throughout my life, like, not as bad as a lot of people but you know it was a thing, but right now is the least anxious or sad I have ever been and it’s pretty cool and idk I want to tell people sometimes. 

One time I got a quail stuck in my hair. 

Taco Bell is my favorite place in the entire world nothing makes me happier than Doritos Locos Tacos I have a problem. 

Writing is my greatest passion and I really hope I can do something with it. Writing novels or TV shows or movies would be my dream job. 

I get unnecessarily emotional over classic rock songs. 

Sometimes I think I look like Saoirse Ronan and it drives me mad because I think she’s the prettiest person on the planet and if I look like her even slightly I will never question the way I look again.

I only have half my taste buds. 

I hate needles with a fiery passion but I want like 16 tattoos so we are at an impasse.

I’m really vain. Not so much for other people, other people can look like anything and everything and I’m like “aw cute” but for myself I’m super critical and have considered plastic surgery but I’m terrified of doctors so there’s an obstacle.