Hey guys, this was inspired by William Blake's 'Visions of the daughter's of Albion'. I will attempt to stick as close to the character's personalities as possible. I hope you like it. :)
I Love'd Theotormon
And I was not asham'ed
But I trembled in my virgin fears
And I hid in Leutha's vale.
But then I picked Leutha's flower
And rose up from the vale
Tore my virgin mantle in twain.
Rose screamed. Rising out of bed, she flung herself over to her windowsill, thrusting it open. Placing her hands on the snow that had collected there; she tried to slow her heart and still her heaving breast.
Oh Mason, she thought, calling to a lost friend, it has happened again. Why do they continue to haunt me? These dreams of violation and sin?
Hastily brushing away a single tear, she breathed in the icy air, recollecting her thoughts.
She'd had that dream again. The dream that seemed to sum up and contain all her fears into one violent act. It was what every young woman feared, the loss of something that made her so desirable to the unmarried man. Her purity, her innocence.
In a world ruled by the wants and whims of men, a woman's sexuality was as much a power, as it was a weakness. A smile or a lingering gaze would give you flowers and jewels. Experience brought you shame.
Rose loathed them, these double standards, which were as hypocritical as they were wrong. How was it that a man could take any number of unmarried women to his bed and not be called a whore, whilst a woman, whether raped or otherwise, was punished and shunned?
She was sick of it. In this world, women were slaves, a so-called 'decorative sex', tools used for the pleasures of men.
At eighteen years of age, Rose was bold, sharp minded and opinionated. Those who knew her said she was rebellious and impulsive, but underneath lay a heart of gold. Her friends knew better. It wasn't a need for rebellion, or a failure to think ahead, it was a burning passion that could sear through the harshest winters.
Rich men prized Rose for her full body and dark hair, the results of her European heritage. They all wanted to try her, Rosemarie, the exotic beauty, but would resort back to subservient, quiet women when she betrayed some of her inner fire.
Rose liked it that way. The rich pushed her away, and she retained the freedom to do her work for a while longer.
Looking out across the night, she caught sight of a black, flowing cape, flapping against the wind. Normally this would not have alarmed her, however the distinct flower stitched in blood red along its hem made her blood run cold. The Black Poppy.
Pulling herself away from the window she ran over to where her closest friend and colleague was sleeping.
'Liss! Quick, wake up!' she hissed, rousing her friend. Lissa rose, wiping her eyes.
'Ugh….Rose..? What's going on?'
'We have to leave. They've found us.'
Lissa stood up, a pained look flashing over her features that was soon replaced with determination.
'Lets go. We can't afford to let them catch us. You know what happened last time. You only just escaped'
Rose did know what had happened last time a member of the Black poppy caught her, and was not anxious to relive it.
She pulled on a set of black trousers she saved for escaping and sneaking around, and slipped a knife up each sleeve and into each boot. After surveying Lissa for a moment, she fell to her knees and wrenched up a set of floor boards, uncovering a ruby encrusted dagger-a gift from her father, a representation of destiny, and of the family business.
Lissa strapped a quiver to her back, and pulled out her bow and notched an arrow. Opening the window, she focused, and let fly a ripper, directly hitting her mark.
'Got him' she said, smirking.
'Good. Lets go.'
Grabbing their packs, they ran down the creaky wooden staircase that led to the outside world. Pausing before the door, Rose withdrew her dagger, it's silver handle feeling comfortably cool in her sweaty hands. Lissa ran ahead, her pale hair and long legs making her the perfect distraction. Black cloaks swarmed behind her, swords threatening.
Shit, Rose thought, cursing, they'd sent more this time.
Lissa scaled a pine tree, leaving her pursuers screaming below. It was a talent Rose admired, that made it easier for the pair to use their corresponding skills. Rose had always envied Lissa's natural affinity with her environment. It seemed she could adapt to any situation, and still keep a clear head. Rose flared up as quickly as she fizzled down.
Creeping around the corner of the building, she blended into the crumbling brick, moving ever closer to Lissa's tree. She moved silently, darting in and out of the surrounding trees, eyes alert and perceiving.
Lissa, meanwhile, had pulled herself higher, avoiding the knives the Black Poppy had begun to throw up towards the tree. All big burly men, they did not have a hope of catching her.
Whilst this was going on, Rose made her move. Throwing herself forward, she plunged the dagger into the nearest leg, stunning the first of the 6 men. Moving swiftly she yanked out the dagger, and moving in an arc, brought the weapon upward, raking it down the face of the next man. She then spun, releasing one of the knives held up her sleeve. It flew across the battleground with a flick, ripping through a cloak. A grunt of pain ensued.
Up high Lissa had been releasing arrow after arrow tipped with sleeping poison, nicking the other men. They fell to the ground with a thud.
Rose looked, upward, meeting Lissa's satisfied smile. She then bent down to clean her dagger, wiping the blood from its blade. The snow surrounding them was stained a blood red.
Rose thought about this recent assault. Six soldiers for two young women. In a way she was flattered. Rose jumped at a noise to her far left. It was just a small ruffle.
'Liss, we've gotta go'
Lissa climbed down and examined the pile of men.
'They'll be fine. Help will arrive soon, so I'm guessing just some minor blood loss, and a heck of an headache. The man you stabbed will need more help though' she said frowning, ignoring her friend.
'Liss' Rose said, her eyes alight with worry, 'we have to leave'
'Please Rose, just let me bind it'
'Alright, but hurry. If we didn't spend our time healing our enemies, we could travel across land so much faster'
Lissa gave her a disapproving look.
Rose didn't really mind that much that her friend felt a moral need to heal; after all, they were fathers and sons, most likely loved by mothers and wives. They were just the thugs at the end of the chain.
After Lissa was satisfied these men would make it through the night, they searched their pockets, grabbing all they could. Turning around they set off at a run, disappearing into the forest that skirted to city of Moscow.
Dimitri wasn't sure how he felt about this young woman and her friend who continued to threaten his cousin's authority. Moscow was huge city, and Adrian was its head. He was expected to keep the traditions alive, and people in their place.
Dimitri was his best man; his speed and grace in a fight possessed a certain likeness to a jaguar. But despite his fighting prowess, the young man felt uncomfortable following these two women. They reminded him of his sisters, so full of life and energy. He did not want to be the one to put their flame out. But his cousin had his expectations, and was not kind to those who disobeyed him. He was a good king, but didn't appreciate any rebellion.
The one called Rose captivated him. She fought with such focus, her piercing gaze capturing every movement. Her braided dark hair surrounded her like a dark mist, contrasting with her skin. It astounded him that such a beauty had not been snatched up.
She took out his men easily, and with Vasillisa too. Such a team would have been hailed in the court had they not been women. He shuddered at those stupid laws.
He watched as she bent down, her fingers tracing the blood that had fallen to the ground, her eyes calculating. It was if she was analyzing her win.
He shifted his position, his jacket brushing the tree that he hid behind. Her head snapped up, and Dimitri thought for a moment that he'd been caught. Waiting a moment, she turned toward her friend and they had a hushed conversation.
Her chest was moving as she took in the much-needed air, her pink blush cooling.
Lissa bent down.
Huh. It was true. The pristine Dragomir princess deigns to get her hands dirty.
This changed things.
As the women disappeared into the surrounding forest, Dimitri pulled out a piece of parchment and a pen.
In his neat scribble he wrote: Need more time.
Moving out of his hiding spot, he placed the note among the bodies. Adrian would find it there. Glancing around he moved off.
And for the first time, hunter Dimitri Belikov wasn't attacking his prey. Instead, he was following it.
Hope you guys enjoyed it. Please review, any ideas or criticism is welcome :)
