Myrwin Martell (unbroken_spear) wrote in awod, @ 2010-04-18 23:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | myrwin martell, toria lannister, week 4 |
A late-nite visit from the Lioness to the Sun
Who: Myrwin Martell, Toria Lannister
When: May 27th, evening
Where: The Red Keep, Myrwin's chamber
Rating: PG-13
Status: Closed
Myrwin was not getting a great deal of restful sleep. When he did sleep, it was usually in the arms of oblivion, being dosed by the maesters with a tincture of the milk of the poppy or a harshly bitter tea made from sort sort of tree bark. It tasted atrocious and more often than not made his stomach rebel, but if he could tolerate it his pain levels would noticeably drop without dulling his faculties.
Tonight his sleep was restless, tormented by vague memories of a man with a bloody great mace, whispering something to him before ending his life as Myrwin knew it. There was something important about what the man said, but he couldn't quite make it out.
Nobody knew what was going to happen to Prince Myrwin. A blow like that to the skull was often fatal, and when it wasn't, it left a man a drooling mess and more dead than alive, more often than not. Still, Toria had given the man her favour, and he was Elia's sister, and she thought it was appropriate to pay at least one visit. She had lit candles for his recovery when visiting the Sept, but Toria had never been devoutly faithful to either the new gods or the old ones.
Toria had always been light on her feet - something that both came naturally to her as well as something she'd worked at. Her political foundations had come at a tender young age when she had snuck around to listen to the important business the adults were talking about. At the moment, she was walking quietly so that she wouldn't disturb Myrwin's rest if he was sleeping. As she walked, she saw one of the Martell servants walking down the hall with a small tray in hand.
"I was hoping to visit with Prince Myrwin for a little bit. Would that be all right?"
The older servant mulled it over for a moment, then nodded. "I don't see why not, my lady. Perhaps your presence might bring Prince Myrwin some comfort."
He led her down the hall, holding Myrwin's chamber door open for her with his head slightly bowed. Toria entered the room quietly. Even if he hadn't woken yet, she didn't want to disturb any rest he might need.
What she did interrupt, however, was one of the scullery maids kneeling on Myrwin's bed, straddling his chest. "Valar morghulis." she said mournfully and then pressed the pillow in her hands tightly over the Prince of Dorne's face. His struggles were uncoordinated and feeble, so much so that he was ineffectual at removing the threat to his life that he once would have easily backhanded.
"Seven hells," hissed Toria to herself before shouting at the maid in a commanding voice worthy of the daughter of a Lannister and a Stark. "STOP THIS AT ONCE!"
Of course, this wouldn't help her if the woman had a knife, so she looked around for something that might reinforce that order. After all, this woman was still an assassin, even if she wasn't a trained professional. Fortunately, Prince Myrwin was a warrior, and as such, had a warrior's possessions. She made a dash for the spear in the corner of the room.
"NOW."
The woman spit something in a language Toria didn't speak and leaned down, pressing the pillow in harder. But she did it with one hand, as her other was groping at her belt, looking to draw the plain-looking knife she wore sheathed there.
"Gods be good, I'll get help, my lady," said the servant, running as fast as his old legs would carry him out of the room. Whether it was cowardice, or being accustomed to the idea that women could be just as fierce as men when wielding a spear, Toria didn't know. What she did know was that she was in the room with the assassin and that the woman wasn't listening.
She was eternally grateful for her dance lessons - they had taught her to be quick enough on her feet in spite of her dress. She moved in quickly, holding the spear like she'd seen it held in tourneys, jabbing it threateningly in the direction of the assassin.
"GUARDS! HELP!" Ten years of vocal training made Toria very capable of projecting her voice. "MURDERER IN PRINCE MYRWIN'S ROOM! HELP!"
Technically the woman wasn't a murderer until she succeeded, but it would get attention.
"Get away from him before I run you through," she hissed at the other woman.
The scullery maid hissed as the hue and cry went up. She knew she'd failed and that bore too terrible a price to consider. She removed the pillow from the Prince's rather battered face and threw it at Toria as a distraction, then drew her knife. "Valar morghulis." she hissed in hate as her blade freed itself.
There was a sharp intake of breath and for a moment, Toria was paralyzed with fear. That paralysis was overcome a split second later and replaced with both survival instincts and rage. She knew little of fighting, but a few words guided her next actions. The pointy end goes in the other person.
Hours later, when Toria had the chance to think about it, she'd recall intending to go for the woman's chest. However, the spear's blade violently pierced her shoulder instead, making a sickening crunch that could only be the sound of a bone breaking as it went deeply into the shoulder's flesh.
The other woman screamed, a frightful sound indeed, and the dagger that was in her hand dropped from suddenly-nerveless fingers. Toria was spared any further exercises in bloodshed when two Martell family retainers burst in through the door, naked steel in their fists and death on their faces. One of them shoved Toria up against a wall - painfully - while the other moved to remove the maid from their Lord's chest.
Myrwin, for his part, whimpered.
Toria cried out when she was shoved roughly against the wall. It hurt, and there would probably be some bruising, and she couldn't help the overwhelming fury that overtook her. Locking eyes with the retainer who had assaulted her, she snapped, "I saved your Prince and cried for help, you fool. Perhaps I should tell the queen to be how you've just treated her friend who just prevented her brother from being assassinated."
The guard who had shoved her up against the wall kept the pressure up, not letting her do much of anything until his partner had subdued the other one and pacified the scene. The maid who was trying to kill the Prince fell off the bed messily, still screaming her damn fool head off. That lasted long enough for the guard to use the pommel of his sword to knock her unconscious in one swift sure stroke.
"Looks like the lady's story checks." he said after a few moments, checking the spear, the injury in the maid's shoulder, and the weakly-conscious Prince. "Better let her go - she's a Lannister. They tend to run touchy." he warned his brother soldier, who immediately backed off the pressure on Toria.
"Milady, we're going to have to insist you stay here until the Kingsguard arrives. You can explain what happened to them." he said, in a gruff-but-friendly voice.
Toria was still tense from the entire event, but the threat was gone and Myrwin's loyal retainers were no longer treating her as an assassin.
"Fine," she said, slightly less of an edge in her voice than there had been moments ago. She forced herself to act a little more outwardly calm, even if her breathing was still fast. She had been taught to be a lady, not some hysterical little girl. As much as she wished she could go running to her father's arms right now, she was going to have to keep herself under control.
"I'd like to sit down, please."
"Hold, what have we here?" said the other guard, who had searched the serving-girl. He held up a fairly fat purse, which wasn't all that unusual, but the coins that spilled out of it were. Gold, they were, and they all bore the portrait of the current Lord of Lannister. "Where does a serving girl get a pile of golden dragons?" the guard asked, while the other one considered Toria out of the corner of his eye.
Toria kept her distance for the moment, deciding that it was likely better to let the guards carry out their work than to go poking around interrupting them.
"She could have stolen them," she suggested.
"Who leaves a giant pile of Lannister gold unguarded?" the same guard retorted. "No, the King's to hear of this." the Martell guard mused. "Not that we're ungrateful, milady, for your efforts on the Lord Myrwin's behalf, but you'll have to admit this does not look good." he said.