elf. 22. unattached.

Feeling slightly groggy as Norah had never been intentionally knocked out in such a rough matter, she rolled unto her side and suddenly realized where she was. In the dungeon of the castle! Running her hand alongside the ground feeling the concrete under her palms, she felt the coolness of the air. Sitting up she pushed herself along the wall of her cell, looking out towards the burning torch hanging upon the wall. It was at this moment that she realized she would not be able to easily escape. Sighing, she put her head in her hands remembering the events of the night. The guard had called her a thief – really? That was what the dark figure being must have been planning on accomplishing that night.

The guards came shuffling down the stairs and it was then that she realized who was among them. Brown eyes took in the sight before her – never before had she set eyes upon a royal. Those in her kingdom were frightening; they hated their people and forced those who could survive on their own to do so. He stood before her, gazing upon her before questioning why she had come not like the usual route others take to speak to “their” king. Unlike most commoners, or subjects under the king, she did not fear him – though she knew she should. With respect at his presence, though, she stood and came to the bars, close enough but not touching. Watchful brown pools followed the king as he examined her belongings. Fear of him taking away her bow seized her heart. When he held it in his hands she could not help but feel her chest well with pride at the beautiful bow her Uncle had given her. But then his gaze fell upon her – and she felt the fear that most would feel when the king looks at them. She refused to allow her features to portray her one, admiration for the king, and two, fear of him commanding his guards to execute her - as Lorraine had so eloquently placed in her mind that he was an evil monster who needed to be killed. Not looking weak though, she straightened her back and placed her hands on the bars, bringing her face close to the bars, feeling their coolness upon her cheeks.

Setting her jaw she allowed her gaze to drop and moved around the room, counting the guards and knights which had followed him in. Then finally, she set her own piercing gaze upon the kings, knowing full well that looking upon the king in such a way could mean trouble but she had nothing to lose, really. Clicking her tongue slightly she set that piercing fiery gaze upon the guard that she remembered, had knocked her out, “Did you find the man upon the outer bridgeline of the castle? I doubt I killed him with my arrow… but he couldn’t have gone far with an injury such as that.” Her statement was crisp and lacked any humor, before she added, “I believe he was the thief you were looking for.” she spit the word thief with such disdain before removing her gaze from the specific guards face, traveling down his figure to the floor where she traveled the floor to the king’s own stance.

Wandering her eyes up the figure of the king, she focused on his face before allowing her clear voice to ring out in the room glowing with a firing flicker of orange. “Your Grace,” she began before looking around the guards, “I will speak of my reasoning of coming,” refocusing her gaze upon the kings features, “If you and I may speak alone.” Her intentions were pure – well, as pure as she could make sense of them. She had no intention of killing the King, but she did want to understand the goddess’ request.