Swiftcurrent Creek [ a melody for the ancients]

Her throat stung as though she had drunk from a poisoned chalice; her lungs, having expelled a large amount of precious, rationed oxygen, stealing away her breath as though she were drowning in some unseen, viscid fluid.  Her voice is captured, stolen by the violent wrenching of her head, as her skull plummets downward and she expels a pitiful dirge of distressing coughs and desperate gulps for air.  The violence of it draws her tears, and they soak her periwinkle hues in a sheen of suffering – though as soon as the footsteps of another are heard, she quickly draws upward, hoping to veil her misery in a fortified shield of stoicism.  She is met with a rather plain, haggard-looking woman, who makes the corners of her mouth slouch with displeasure. She was obviously the ‘help’.  “I wish to speak with your king,” her words are soured, her gaze steadied upon the distance for she could not be bothered to look upon the maid, “fetch him.” She commands curtly, her tone even and stern.  Fortune seemed to shine upon the weathered wench, however, for her duties as courier of utterances and beckoning went unneeded: a figure was approaching, tall and completely commandeering her sights.  He is a marbled effigy – an atonement to virility, sleekly adorned in tarmac and a velvet cape, sinewy muscles articulating alike quaking stone beneath his flesh.  She is enraptured, violaceous eyes – vivaciously draped in dense, inked lashes – fluttering upward from her gaping to meet his vivid emerald portals.  His voice was alike assertive fingers gripping her hips – she was titillated.  “Are you the king of these lands?” Her haughtiness had lessened, for she did not want to misstep in his potentially imperial presence – however she added a frank, “you may leave us,” toward the servant.  She was no longer required for these affairs.

;A; omg i am so sorry for all this sass i've never played such a bitchy character beFOre i am shook lmao

@Shaara
@Kavik