SlashInfinite

Game of Thrones

Interested! Is it fine to do ones own little House? :]

East meets West (SlashInfinite & POOHEAD189 1x1)

The day passed on, and the constant sound of preparing troops were slowly taking its toll on Mikasa. She frowned at the sight, but did not protest. It was not in her place to do so, and no one would accept it even if she suggested it. There had been no words of reinforcements yet, and it would most likely be two days after the letter had been sent, that they would arrive. There was still at least a day, and the Fort could not wait. Mikasa had placed herself upon a crate, staring at the soldiers passively, as she sat there, with rags around her stomach and one around her forehead. The breeze waved through her dark hair, bringing a calming sensation to her. Calming as it could be, under the circumstances. The soldiers did not even give her a single gaze, being far too focused on the preparations. They had dug trenches all day, prepared spikes outside the Fort and stacked up on arrows.

The sky had cleared up. The few white clouds sitting lonesome in the blue sea above them. There had been no sightings of the Westerners, but everything was to be expected. Mikasa dwelled on the evening before, trying to make sense of what all of them had said. As the sun began to wander down, the noises dulled away. Silence overtook the Fort. Few men even spoke, but kept to themselves. No one spoke, indeed, but they all knew what was about to happen. They were few at the Fort, and had to count on the defenses to even stand a chance. But a chance there was, Mikasa convinced herself as she skipped away from the crates, walking up towards the wall. A man offered his hand for the final step, with a stern smile along with it. The Lady dipped her head as she pulled herself up with his aid, groaning. The landscape became darker by the minute, and thus, it was then she could sense it. Peace was about to be forgotten.

@POOHEAD189

East meets West (SlashInfinite & POOHEAD189 1x1)

With a gasp for air she forced herself unto the horse, huffing as she sat in the saddle. The horse trotted onwards, with the bleeding woman on top of it. Her hand was still locked on the wound, trying to cease the flowing blood much as she could. The time passed as she rode back towards the Fort, her eyes flickering every now and then. Mikasa did not have time to consider the events, not with the wound at her side. The gaze of the Swordmaiden wandered towards her stomach, causing a frown in the night. The Dorochai Point lit up with a few torches in the distance. She was close now, though it did not feel that way at all.

“Bring the mender!” One of the soldiers shouted, as Mikasa sat hunched over on her horse, barely staying awake after the loss of blood. A few men assembled around the courtyard, to catch a glimpse of the on-going events. The girl slipped off her horse as slammed unto the ground with a thud, barely staying conscious in the night. The faces of the people were blurry, and all their words mixed together in a stream of voices. Time was still hard to grasp, but she did feel the weight of her armour eventually being removed, and the sensation of a stinging liquid pressed against the wound. Mikasa caught the sight of some elder man, staring at her with a grim expression planted on his weary face.

*

Her tired eyes admired the rays of the sun dancing through the glass window. The infirmary was less filled than the night before, almost only being occupied by Mikasa and a few other soldiers. She glanced carefully to her stomach, once again setting her eyes upon the bandage covering up the wound. The former night was still a blur to her, but she could at least make out the small bits and pieces that had planted themselves like a seed in her mind. The sound of steel and plate being treated could be heard outside, and Mikasa had been told they were preparing for another attack, should it happen. Moreso, she had had no say in the matter, much as she wanted to protest against another fight. But a wounded Swordmaiden, and a Lady at that, would not simply be tossed aside.

She wet her lips carefully, nudging her forehead before running a hand through her mildy messy hair. All she could do for now was look through the window, awaiting the inevitable

@POOHEAD189

East meets West (SlashInfinite & POOHEAD189 1x1)

Oh, no. Not if you had something planned!

East meets West (SlashInfinite & POOHEAD189 1x1)

Yah, imagine there would be send search parties for both factions, resulting in reinforcement and the next battle, yeah?

East meets West (SlashInfinite & POOHEAD189 1x1)

The pain was searing in her stomach. She had barely managed to stay standing upon her feet, as her hand had also stormed to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Her gaze went to the man as he approached. She frowned at him, looking over her shoulder for the horse. Surprisingly, it had not fled yet. Behind the Swordmaster, Mikasa could see the crusader approaching. When she did not answer at first, Meldarion repeated his question. His gaze was cruel and of no compassion, piercing straight into the mind of the young Swordmaiden.

“Hrmph!” Mikasa started, as she looked towards her even bloodier hand. She looked up towards Meldarion, as she rose to full figure. “What does it matter to you?” She continued, seemingly with full intentions of interrupting Meldarion, should he decide to speak again. “He and I do not share the – Argh! Bloody-.. !” She cursed out at her stomach, scoffing heavily. “We do not share the same ideals.” But she stopped, looking down towards the dead man. “Did.”

Meldarion squinted his eyes at her, speaking again. “Why?” his voice had not changed, still inquisitive and cold. The Crusader had approached, looking at Mikasa with a hint of anger in his eyes. Gods, they had probably seen the fight, if they were here now. She sighed to herself, talking reluctantly. “There are some people who would rather see House Shuenaii in the ground.” Mikasa sighed, stuffing her fingers through the broken plate, pressing on the wound.

@POOHEAD189

East meets West (SlashInfinite & POOHEAD189 1x1)

”You’re mad.” Mikasa whispered back at him, almost in shock as she spoke. Soka was standing dangerously close, with his sword resting in his hand. She could see the rage in his eyes, as he stood right before her. The limping man grinned at her, shaking his head. “I am not mad, dear Lady. I will be known as one of the few who started our path to victory. And you, you will be known as the catalyst that sparked it all.” Soka almost whispered at her, with a dark and gloomy voice. Mikasa hoisted up her blade, staring at the approaching man, with a clear intention in his gaze. With a sinister smile planted upon his bloody face, the cold blade by his side was raised up with determination to kill.

The cold battlefield below them was almost like wet mud by now. At least it felt as so to Mikasa, as if the ground had clawed into her feet, holding her in place. Still, her body took control, preparing for the worst. Soka continued his taunting, having his blade ready with the only good arm. “You are no better yourself. You cut them down just the same. You pretend to hold love for them, yet you fought them as well!” He almost shouted at this point, anger filling the air around the two. Mikasa’s breathing became quicker, as she felt the adrenaline beginning to surge throughout her veins. She spoke again, loudly and frustrated. “Don’t pretend like you know what I’ve done! I hold no love for them, but I do not want another war!” Mikasa barely finished her sentence, before Soka charged – or well, limped forward. The blades clashed again, and the cold steel blade found it’s way towards Mikasa’s stomach, digging through the armour and causing the woman to scream out in pain, as she almost helplessly attempted to defend herself.

@POOHEAD189

East meets West (SlashInfinite & POOHEAD189 1x1)

Mikasa stumbled backwards, barely staying on her feet. The crusader had collapsed on the ground, Mikasa’s attempt at stopping the bleeding being for naught. A swift sensation of guilt rushed over her, as she watched the lifeless corpse on the ground. She had killed before, yes, but it was years ago – and in war. Within her was a sea of emotions, a strange happiness that she had gotten away unharmed, but sorrow for ending a life, as it was not her intention. He was furious, and once again spoke of putting the blame on Heroshida. Along with the note in her pocket, the confusion grew within. A light sulking overcame the girl, perhaps without herself even noticing, as she stood there on the battlefield, surrounded by death.

Finally Mikasa looked up, at the sound of the approaching man. It was hard to see him in the dark, but the attire gave Soka away. He approached with heavy steps, silent in his arrival. The young girl grabbed her blade again, rising up as her temper followed suit. Furious, confused, angry, Mikasa could not quite decide. She wiped her face, letting lines of blood take their place upon it. She shouted out, her voice almost cracking as she spoke.
“Why?! Why would you do this?!” Mikasa spoke in her native language, barely getting a response from Soka. He stopped, looking to the dead crusader, and then back up at the woman.

“Would’ve spared me the trouble if those crusaders had not been so good-hearted. And if that one had done his job.” His voice was hollow and cruel, almost hissing towards Mikasa as he spoke. A grip tightening on the blade in his hand.

@POOHEAD189

East meets West (SlashInfinite & POOHEAD189 1x1)

Mikasa stared at the note, trying to make sense of it. She saw the letters, surely, but still it seemed so strange to her. It made no sense. The seal was another noble house, a smaller one, than those who gave commands to the armies. With quick words, she muttered under her breath, repeating the sentences. It spoke of a deal, of an arrangement. The names were all but erased from the recent battle, the note being cut and burned during the battle, most likely. The wind blew yet again, causing Mikasa to look up and around on the battlefield. She saw nothing and grimaced. The night was making her uncomfortable, especially being alone with the horse.

The woman looked back to the face of the dead boy. She furrowed her eyebrows, wondering what in the world he had gotten himself into, that ultimately had led to his untimely end. The note was swiftly stuffed into a pouch, as she rose back up. She tugged the horse along, once again continuing to scout the battlefield. In the middle of the stench of already rotting corpses and dried blood, a single groan repeated itself not far from the woman. “Hold here.” She muttered to the horse, completely aware it was not going to respond nonetheless. With steady steps, she drew her blade, approaching the groaning carefully. A man lay upon the ground, staring up at the approaching woman.
Without a word, he swiftly grabbed her foot, trying to force her down to the ground. Mikasa kept her ground, though almost slipping. In response, the man jumped up, drawing his sword and eyeing his opponent. It was another foreigner. Mikasa observed him, considering his actions. He may have done it out of surprise, or actually tried to gut her. Whatever reason, he was standing. His face was a mess. The man had most likely spent hours lying in the dirt – for whatever reason.

“Stay your blade! I do not wish for another fight!” Mikasa shouted out, still in the Western language. The man paused, quirking an eyebrow at the woman. He spat out, cursing at her.

“I will not hear your words, lying wench! You slaughtered us!” He shouted out, on the brink of attacking. Mikasa knew her words would not hold him back, and the seconds were counting. She had to think of something.

“Please! I am here to prevent any more fighting! I wish for peace for both our kingdoms!” Mikasa lowered her sword, holding up her other hand at the man, to try enforce her words. Raindrops started to fall upon the ground, quickly picking up their pace and wetting the ground beneath them.

“Liar!” The crusader shouted out, charging at her. Much to her surprise, he rose his sword and shield, with no intention of listening to the woman. He certainly seemed more eager to fight than the crusaders she had met earlier. Though, seeing the battlefield Mikasa did not blame him. Not that she had time to, either.

Mikasa brought up her blade, meeting his sword with a clash. He threw his shield forward, causing Mikasa to stagger back. The Crusader did not hold back and yet again swung his sword. Mikasa quickly stepped towards the side, trying to deflect the blade coming straight for her. The two exchanged blows, a song of steel ringing throughout the otherwise silent battlefield. Both of the fighters released loud screams as they swung their weapons, one of them aiming to kill.

The woman send her blade forward several times, using the momentum as force for the attacks. Finally she twisted her foot 45 degrees, and send a kick straight for the man’s lower stomach. Her hip turned with her, speed not being favored in the armor. The plated shin guards did most of the damage, as the kick flew straight into the chainmail of the man. Quickly using the brief moment of surprise, Mikasa slashed her blade down towards the man. It cut straight into his neck, causing his eyes to widen as he dropped to his knees and his weapons equally. His hands flew straight to his neck, in an attempt to stop the blood oozing. Stunned by the cut, Mikasa dropped her blade as well, rushing to put her hands on the wound.

The man looked up at her, panic having struck him as life faded with haste.

@POOHEAD189

The Realm of Men

The horse trotted onwards, with the two young humans sitting upon it. Eliana was still trying to make out what had actually happened inside the woods, after Sekaia had almost dragged her back to the horse. He was eager to get onwards, perhaps feeling uneasy after the event. They had been silent for hours, riding north again. Eliana’s vision had become dark again, the temporary lights having disappeared. It had been the closest thing she had experienced to actually seeing anything but this damnable darkness. They had been riding for more days than Eliana could remember, seeing as her days had melted together with the nights. They had passed Lowburg a few nights ago, riding further into the northern region.

The sun was slowly moving down from the sky, as the evening had begun to arrive. They stopped outside a small village, no more than seven houses and a tavern. The two of them barely shared any words as Sekaia led the horse forward. Whilst the town was all but darkness to Eliana, Sekaia silently studied the small township. The farmers had finished the day’s work, finally celebrating outside the small tavern. They barely noticed the two newly arrivals as they trotted inside the village. Sekaia jumped off, tapping Eliana by her lap and helping her down afterwards. Feeling the ground beneath her was such a relief. Her hips were so damnable sore after the riding, and the darkness hadn’t been especially entertaining either. Instinctively, she threw out her hand to grab Sekaia, still feeling uneasy on her own feet. All she could do was listen, and the sounds were welcomed. The only thing that broke the silence was the sound of the embers harmoniously burning the wood of which they burned upon. The cheerful chatter between the men near the inn was calming. No soldiers clattering in their heavy armour, no screams or horrors. It was silent, and it was refreshing.

As they stepped inside the inn, Sekaia left Eliana in her place to stand. All she heard was chattering that she couldn’t quite make out the words of. A few moments passed, when her arm was suddenly grabbed again. At this point, it was barely surprising anymore. She just sort of let herself be dragged along and placed at one the tables. Eliana sensed the sigh escaping Sekaia as he placed two items on the table, most likely mugs. The air inside the tavern was fresh and cold, only being warmed up by the fire crackling by the wall. Sekaia took a sip from his mug; solid ale wasn’t something he’d refuse. His gaze carefully wandered back to the woman in front of him, silently sipping away at her own mug. During the days they had ridden, Sekaia had offered her a band of cloth she could wrap around her eyes. He was not sure if it was simply because he didn’t enjoy being reminded of her condition all the time, but it gave her a calmer appearance as well; instead of the eyes emptily staring into nothing.

“I thought we might rest for a days time.” Sekaia spoke up, nodding a little to himself. Eliana looked up, towards his general direction. The two had not spoken of the happening in the woods, simply dismissing it as their mind playing tricks on them. It was easier than trying to comprehend whatever it was supposed to be.

“You got us rooms?” she asked, taking another sip.

“Room.” Sekaia corrected her.

“Room?”

“Room.”

“Just one room.” Eliana sighed, drinking once again. Sekaia looked around, watching the dry wooden walls. They were donned with ornaments and wooden weapons, heads of animals and feathers of birds. It was surprising that the place could hold together with the few citizens in the small village. The people most likely helped each other out, friendships being the best payment around these parts. Sekaia met the innkeeper’s gaze, who seemed to be staring towards Eliana’s hair. He carried a grimace. Northerners weren’t happy with foreigners, and the girl certainly looked anything but northern. The people were paranoid, but the innkeeper had been kind enough, nonetheless.

“I saw the Melitian harbour, out by the east.” Sekaia looked back towards Eliana, who did indeed stop her drinking as he spoke, though remaining silent. He wet his lips before speaking again.

“It was just as you said. I’ll take you there, someday.” The young dark-skinned man nodded, trying hopelessly to cheer up the girl. Childhood memories were her weakness. Even in the few moments they had spend together over the years, Sekaia still knew how to handle her.
“And the ships?” Her face lit up, for the first time in weeks. Eliana had always dreamt of seeing the Eastern ships, magnificent as they were told to be. A faint feeling of regret flew through her stomach, reminded of the East. She could’ve asked Freda about it all. The famous Melitian harbour, the equally famous ships of war that resided calmly on the blue waves.

“They were stunning. They use a rare wood to craft them with. Leaves a certain scarlet colour, which they used for painting the ships.”

Eliana’s smile faded at that.

So close. Sekaia let out a sigh, shaking his mug passively to confirm it was indeed empty.

“Come along.”

The room was small. Tidy, but small. With a thud, Sekaia, who led Eliana along to one of the beds, dumped their belongings on the floor on the way. He placed himself next to her, eyeing her as she spoke.

“When are the Grandmasters expecting us?” She folded her hands in her lap. It was the first time in days she could sit and actually relax, but yet, the news Sekaia had brought in the first place worried her. It made no sense to her. Her mind raced again, hoping in the name of the Gods that it wasn’t the true reason he had come.

“Within a week. And we’re close.” He spoke in a calm voice, as he placed his arm around the girl, nudging her shoulder and let her lean her head on his shoulder.

“Then we can rest for a few days?” She spoke again, her voice filled with hope.

Sekaia raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Yes, we can.”

Eliana smiled again, nudging her head closer to the man’s shoulder.