The Great Divide (Peregrine & Bubblegum-Wolf)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Bubblegum-Wolf, Apr 7, 2014.

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  1. Brilliant splashes of sunlight fell down on the world, collecting in puddles on the ground in the spaces between branches and leaves, creating bright patches of white light that were hard to look at. A pair of faded blue eyes shot through with speckles of gold squinted as their owner stepped through a shaft of sunlight that had found its way in between two large oaks, Carlisle himself grumbling quietly under his breath at the stroke of heat that struck him across the back of his neck and shoulders, feeling almost as if a blanket had dropped out of the sky and settled onto his head. After the long morning of laboring in the fields of his family's farm, the sensation was not welcomed. Stepping swiftly to one side, he gratefully slid beneath the comforting shade of the surrounding trees, enjoying the overhead interlocking of the branches as the great forest behemoths grew stronger the closer he came to the great river.

    Briefly, he ran his thin work calloused fingers through his damp red gold curls, extricating the strands that had begun to clung eagerly to the skin of his forehead and moving them to more appropriate places. He sighed, inwardly contemplating whether it had been a wise idea to let his hair grow so long, the thick waves beginning to spill over his ears... But thoughts of the condition of his locks were firmly pushed from his mind is the first drafts of cooler air collided with his exposed skin, smelling of wet rocks and algae. He had reached the river.

    The last of the trees vanished into a pebbly beach, the water quietly lapping at the grey and pale purple stones that lined that stretch of the great river. Carlisle sighed gratefully at the pocket of damp cool air that hung around the slow flowing water, breathing in a deep lungful of the refreshing humidity. He waited for another moment on the edge of the forest, closing his light eyes to fully absorb the moment, before he began to pick his way across the uneven footing. He was barely halfway across the gap between plant and water when a splash of bright colors caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, standing out starkly in contrast against the monotony of the rocks. It took his mind a few seconds to catch up with what his eyes were telling him, but by the time he registered what he was seeing, the young man had already started to sprint across the beach, falling heedlessly to his knees by the unconscious sodden figure of a young woman, her clothing sticking to her skin with River water, her wet hair spread out around her head and clinging to the skin of her face and neck. Breathless with concern, he shakily brushed away her soaked locks, pressing his fingers into her throat searching for a heartbeat. He was relieved to feel a steady pulse against his fingertips, see the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

    "Miss... Can you hear me? Wake up." Carlisle lifted his voice into almost a shout, padding the side of her face in an attempt to wake her.
  2. Princess Alyimda Hanisa dom Khalifeh Mosteghanemi was wet. And while there was nothing wrong with soaking in a warm pool with eddies of steam rising around her nude form, it was an entirely different matter to find herself suddenly awoken to an aggressive smack to her cheek, her fine dress sopping wet and dripping freezing cold water. There was something hard digging into her back, and she could practically feel the wet mud seeping into her white linen.

    Her eyes fluttered open slowly, eyes magicked to be the palest blue surveying everything around her. It took her a moment to process what exactly it was that she was seeing. There was a man. And he was on top of her. She let out a sudden, violent shriek as everything from the past few minutes came suddenly flooding back to her, kicking wildly at her assailant before scrambling away from him.

    Alyimda had been informed by her uncle on the eve of her eighteenth birthday that the kingdom of Amador had sent a representative, at great personal risk, south across the Great River and into their own kingdom. The kingdom of Amador and her own Ghanemsahad Empire had been at war for hundreds of years, costing thousands of lives and constantly eating away at the desert kingdom's very limited resources. The king of Amador had a young son, a son that he apparently hoped to marry to the Princess of Ghanemsahad and so form an alliance between the two kingdoms, for mutual benefit. It had been Alyimda's duty to agree to the proposition, and she had been escorted out of the palace by a small retinue of soldiers less than a week later.

    Of course, none of them had been expected to be beset upon by rebels moments after crossing over the Great River. The loyal servant of her uncle had spirited away the princess in a carriage, leaving her guards to deal with the threat and prevent anyone from coming after them. Her uncle's servant had also provided a glamor at that time, concealing her dark skin and hair behind palest locks and complexion, so that any locals, unaware of the impending peace treaty between the two nations, would not attack her.

    Of course, Alyimda was not used to such rough travel, but she did her best not to complain. This was her duty as a princess, she needed to be prepared to do anything for the good of her people. But two days later and she was starting to become remarkably uncomfortable. Her tent and roll had been lost in the attack, and while sleeping in the carriage was far preferable to the ground, it was not a place that was meant to hold a young lady indefinitely. Her uncle's servant did his best to care for her, but he was a man and she was a lady. There was only so much he could properly do. Perhaps that was part of the reason he was so quiet?

    As if her trip hadn't already been a disaster, she had found the carriage suddenly coming to a halt in the middle of a bridge. When Alyimda had poked her head out to see what exactly the servant thought he was doing, she had found herself confronted by a long sword, and the gruff and smelly man who was pointing it at her. He forced her, a lady of standing, out of the carriage, and had placed her by the edge of the bridge with her servant.

    Bless his heart, the man had tried to save her, even if he hadn't been particularly clever about it. He took one panicked look at the bandits, and promptly shoved her over the edge of the bridge! That might have been alright, except for the fact that the heavy dress she was wearing was not meant for swimming, and quickly dragged her under the water. She had fainted only moments later, for which she considered herself somewhat lucky. She did not want to think about what those nasty men would do to him.

    It took her a moment to realize that the man she had rudely kicked upon her awakening was not one of the bandits who had set upon her back up at the bridge. In fact, judging by his rather damp boots, this man had most likely just pulled her out of the river. Alyimda quickly got to her feet, and hurried back over to the man. She kneeled down next to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Good sir, I apologize most sincerely. Thank you for saving me from drowning. May I ask your name?"
  3. A loud screeching and a well aimed kick to his ribs was definitely not the reaction that Carlisle had been anticipating. He had been hoping for something akin to a gentle stirring, perhaps a grateful kiss, but what he received in reality sent him crashing back onto his rump with a loud exclamation of, "Ouch! Hey!"

    After frantically scrambling away from him and a few moments to catch her breath, the beautiful young woman looked back at him, appraising his features with a couple of Blinx. Something seemed to click behind her pale blue eyes and she hurriedly approached him, reaching out with one of her hands. Fearing a slap on top of the kicks she had given him, Carlisle instinctively flinched, but couldn't go very far with his current location on the wet rocks. But instead of the smack he had been bracing for, she instead placed a gentle hand onto his shoulder.

    "Good sir, I apologize most sincerely. Thank you for saving me from drowning. May I ask your name?" She said softly, kneeling down onto the ground next to him.
    Blinking several times himself, the young farmer mustered up a quick smile. "No worries Miss, though I must say that you have quite the kick there." He chuckled, despite the gentle ache in his ribs, and attempted to come off as nonchalant as he gave them a ginger rub. "I am glad to see that the river had no lasting effect on your strength. Call me Carlisle. And may I ask the name of such a pretty lady in return?"
  4. "Carlisle?" The foreign name sat strange in her mouth, but she quickly rubbed the confusion from her face, and forced her tongue to fold more naturally around the name.
    "Carlisle," she repeated, following the young man to his feet, and dipping into a low curtsy. The move did not come across as polished as it might have in court, for the combination of the wet skirts and uneven ground made her lose a certain touch of elegance. But she was still a princess, even wet and in the mud, and she would not allow that to deter her from the formalities. "It is an honor to meet you."

    She rose from her deep curtsy before casting a critical look at her savior.He was dressed like a peasant, and she could even see something that looked very much like dirt staning his clothes. Of course, she reminded herself, that could just as easily have come from his rescue of her. She could still feel the mud from the river coating her back, and it was starting to dry and crust. She must look a real sight. So what right did she have to judge him?

    Distracting herself from her rather unnecessary line of thinking, Alyimda redirected her attention to the young man's question. "I am," she replied, immediately adopting the slightly haughty air that her mother had drummed into her just for the purpose of such introductions. Her eyes were forward and bold, her posture perfect. "The lady Alyi..." she trailed off immediately, suddenly and violently reminded of precisely where she was. In all likelihood, this knight had lost family, most certainly friends, in the war against her kingdom. And while the glamor protected her from him recognizing her, her name would be the most obvious of giveaways. Her eyes dropped, and a red blush stained her pale cheeks. "Ali," she repeated, all the airs she had placed upon herself gone.

    Desperate to change the subject, Alyimda quickly redirected the conversation into safe waters. If there is one thing the court had tough her, it was that everyone liked to speak about themselves. "May I ask what you are doing by this river, Sir?"
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