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Lana Ross ► Katniss Everdeen (sparkingfire) wrote in thereincarnates,

Lana was angry. That was an understatement to end all understatements. Lana was livid, her blood boiling with loathing at the man currently in her grasp. She hated privileged men in their realm, had always hated them even when she was a little girl constantly dirty from playing outside in the dirt. She’d watched the noble men ride through their village on their horses, taking whatever they needed for this man’s castle and riding off again as they left most of the peasants to starve. She’d hated how they had no regard for the lives of others, especially the children in the villages that they were almost more likely to kill than the adults. They left them with nothing but harsh rules and empty bellies, but expecting to be worshiped as gods among people.

She’d grown up with this loathing for them, and it had only magnified the more she witnessed the effects of their harsh treatment on her sister. As much as Lana loved their mother, would protect their mother, she was a shell of what she once was and wasn’t nearly as important to her as Lily was. Her sister was everything to her; ever calculated move of Lana’s was in response to keeping her sister safe. Normally safe from the predators that tried to feed on their village; the wolves, the lions, the stray trolls and shifters. Today it was a man. A man and his army, where the odds weren’t in her favor, but when were they?

Lana kept the edge of the arrow against his neck, pressing in a little harder so that more blood trickled out. The man winced, but he kept his composure, clearly convinced that he was still in control of the situation. Even with an arrow to his neck, they were surrounded by gargoyles and knights, all of which could take a lone girl out easily. She may as well have been staring death in the face with all the chance she had to win this. But what she had that they didn’t was something much more important than riches or weapons. She had somebody she was fighting for. Sure, they were all fighting for their ruler, but it wasn’t the same type of devotion. Lana didn’t fear death because death didn’t compare to the loss of her sister.

“Let. Her. Go.” She said through clenched teeth, keeping the arrow to his neck while she slipped another out of her sheath. The one not against his neck she held steady in her hand, and slammed into his back so that it pierced through his clothes and into his skin. “I’m not going to tell you again. Unchain her.”