Revenge of the finest. ((open rp to those who knew Lairia))

[Lairia Rothman]

One month ago

The carriage got to the Rothman estates at dusk. The trees casted long clouds over the stony road and the air was thin and cold, biting in Lairia’s lungs as she stepped out and breathed through.
A beautiful evening lowered over the Rothmans' domicile. Still, Lairia had the impression that everything around, every slave and every servant, were holding their breath for something to happen. The tension was almost tangible.

”Stand up, daughter.” The young woman stood up from her kneeling position, and looked into her father’s face. He became older, with every passing day, but there were no new lines showing how he lost his strength. He was still stronger than each of his sons. And older than anyone she knew.
”I had a reason to call you home, daughter. Do you know it?” – ”I can think of it… you want to hear about Julius’ success on Gobaith. I can tell you he is making process. The new Governor of Troll’s Bane gave him a huge parcel of land, to govern. I am sure when he shows his competence there, he will be given more and more power. Besides, things are developing in favour for us. The real power has been taken from the plebs. I am certain Gobaith will one day be ours, when we decide wisely, and use what we have in our hands.”

Her father nodded sharply, but this was not the dismissive nod she had known for quite some time now. On the contrary, he started to speak once more, and she listened with growing terror. She had never loved this man, but now she felt there was more than dislike towards him. There was hatred.

”I called you for another reason. From the day of your birth on to today, your hand has been promised to Lord de Coulle, an ally of mine. He fought with me as my squire, when I was a young man myself. Now he earned his own estates, and is our direct neighbour. Marrying you with him will secure our border, and will also help us gain more influence in this region.” He waved with his hand once, nodding again, as if he had given her a precious present. ”You may go now.”

Liam’s face had been in front of her inner eye the very moment he mentioned marriage. She closed her hands to fists, and felt how the small gold ring cut into her left ring finger. This was the last straw. She stepped forward, and began to talk with her melodic, strong voice. She showed no nervousness towards the old man, and no terror. It was time to leave the path he had drawn for her. Time to chose her own faith, even if it meant being an outcast to her own family.
She told him about her fiancée in Gobaith, about her love. About her own strong will, and that she would never, NEVER obey his order. And he expelled her, like she had known when she stepped forward.

Leaving the estates did not hurt half as much as it had the last time. Last time she had left her home for an island she had never been, meeting someone she did not know. This time, she left a prison, and went home. Home to the man she loved. If only she had had parchment and ink, and a dove, to tell him about what had happened. She had not even found the time to tell him she went for the mainland. Too late to regret. She was on her way homewards.

Revenge

Strangely she was not even able to feel the pain, as the knife cut through her hand. It was over. She had lost everything, and the shock deafened the pain. Numb she felt, numb and alone. Still no pain. Not even in her heart.

”It is over, Lairia.” How could he do this to her? Calling her stupid? Stupid for what, being in love with him? Abandoning her family? What had he done? Even worse, what had SHE done?

She wore the simple dress she had taken from the estates to Gobaith, planning to wear it at her marriage. Now she would not marry at all.

Julius’ fault. All Julius’ fault. He had left Fianna, and now Liam had left her. Revenge of the finest… One man lets your sister down, you let his sister down. But unlike Liam, Julius did not care for her. He had his politics. He had his friends. He did not need her.

Small blood stains mixed with the light blue, as the blade parted her palm. She watched it as if she were dreaming. Her blood was redder than her hair, falling down to her hip, silky from the long brushing she had given it. This was the end.
She was alone in the room she had been given by Borgate, like so many times before. She had told both her brother, and her fiancée… well the man who had been her fiancée – that she slept here quite often. They knew.

Revenge of the finest.

She struggled to her feet, and then suddenly straightened up. New strength seemed to be with her, as she stepped to the vase on the table purposefully, throwing it down to the floor. She watched how it broke, and the fragments glided around, the splinting sound mixed with her throaty scream.
Her door had been locked for a reason, too. No one would hear her down in the basement.

Soon the remains of the arrangements of the rooms were disordered like after an angry fight, splashed with tiny trails of her blood, still running out of her fist.
A satisfied sigh escaped her. Early forenoon, no one was down here. She had made this sure. No one to shatter her plan, no one to help her or to stop her.

Revenge of the finest.

After the scene with Liam and Fayne, it was evident that SHE was not the one bearing the chancellor a grudge. No, he was the aggressive one. She had been silently after the first shock. She had held her temper back. This was now helping her with her plan.
Never, never, never leave a Rothman. Never dare breaking a Rothman’s heart.
Liam had hurt this unwritten law. He would pay. She would make sure he did. Cromwell had unwillingly helped her already. Giving out a warning for Rothman family members. Liam was about to kill them anyway? Lairia was sure he was not but in fact alone the warning was halfway proof for who was her murderer. A brutal man, full of hatred. Full of the need to get revenge.

The letter to Julius would also help. She had written to him only hours ago. Too late to give him the possibility to stop her. Although this was not necessary, he did not know what she was up to anyways.

Dear Julius, my brother,

I do not know whether father contacted you. In fact I don’t care. I broke with him, with his ignorance and his plans for my future. I don’t want to marry the man he chose for me. I don’t want to obey, and I don’t want to forget who I am. I can have an own will, and I will listen to it from now on, to it and to nothing else. I know well I let all of you down, and I beg your excuse, that you won’t give me. You can’t.
What I did, I did for love. I am engaged to the chancellor of Troll’s Bane… or this is what I told father. But now, that I return from the mainland, I see that everything I fought for at the Rothman estates has been shattered. The chancellor is no longer in office. And even worse, he is no longer in love with me. He has not been faithful as I have, but gave his heart to another woman… and so there is nothing left for your sister on this island, Julius.

I will leave Gobaith as soon as I find a ship to Kjelt, far north from home. At the barbarians, fathers anger won’t reach me. And you can tell him you don’t know where I am, if you will, because I will start travelling around as soon as I reach the havens of the mainland.

Don’t look for me. This night, I will be hidden, and afterwards I will be gone.

I am sorry.

Lairia, your sister. No Rothman any longer.

A bitter grin lay on her lips as she turned to the mirror. The only thing she yet had not destroyed in here. The hand with the knife was lifted up, and she smiled to her beautiful face once more, before she cut it through, taking one of the sapphire eyes with this cut.

The blood at once blinded her, and made it impossible to see the result of what she had done. Screaming with pain, she fell to her knees, and sobbed, blood ruining the expensive cloth she wore. Wiping her remaining eye free, she stood up with shaking legs. Although she gasped with pain, she managed to shatter the mirror as well, then she unlocked the door. Anyone who came in would see her at once: She sat down on the floor, a woman who inescapably lost the hopeless fight against the intruder, against her had-been fiancée.
Blood covered a lot of things in here, and her wounds showed she had fought without weapon, but as good as she could. An angry man full of hatred was the only one who could have destroyed the beautiful face.

Who could have hurt her to death, like the knife did now, cutting into her entrails. Lairia felt how life ran out of her like water out of an overthrown bucket. The growing puddle of blood reached the door, and ran out to the corridor. They would come in. They had to. And when they found her, being injured like she was, her dress torn up, bloody, her face ruined, stabbed brutally, they would draw the right conclusions. She ensured it because she wrote with the last strength she had before her breathing stopped, she wrote into the puddle of blood. Only one single word, four letters. A victim left her last message to the men who were meant to take revenge for her death.

LIAM

Revenge of the finest.

[Julius]

Julius awoke with a start from the chair in the Inn, his hand flicking quickly to his blade as his eyes searched the room around him. He exhaled a brief nasal sigh as his hand loosened his grip on the hilt at his belt, his bones cracking as he stood with a stretch. That damn idiot, the man meaningless to him. His own life was in no danger with someone so weak and .. defenseless wanting him dead. But.. at the same time he had surrounded himself with relatives that he loved. He had already made the decision in his mind that if anything happened to his family, he would give Lord Heneghan a slow and painful death.

As he stepped from the seahorse inn and the few strays of morning light hit his face, a brief smile appeared on his lips. "I made it," he muttered to himself as he turned to walk down the road. He had spent his entire time on the isle attempting the impossible. Getting a Rothman back in the Trolls Bane office. Of course, it wasn't yet the grandeur of the Archduke position or as Stephen had accessed, Governor but at least it was a step in the right direction and a room in the Seahorse.

He slowly edged his way towards the Fluffy Sheep, stopping at the bridge to peer over his sleepy features and slightly messy hair in the stream below. His hand rose and began to trace over a thin scar on his cheek, his mind racing with the thoughts of what put it there. Both hands slipped to his collared shirt, straightening it's stance on his body before a grin crept over his face and he turned for the Tavern. The Tavern was quiet as he stepped through. This early in the morning, the only company it harbored were those from the previous night that had drunk too much. As Julius walked by he flipped a silver coin to the dwarf and spoke in a weak voice.

"My sister in? Need to speak with her."

Borgate gripped the coin with a gleam in his eyes as he slowly pocketed it, a small smile visible through his bearded chin.

"Aye, that she is. Thank ye fer tha coin."

As Julius made his way down the set of stairs, his heart seem to quicken as the anxiety of the news his sister would bring from home. Perhaps his father had actually told her that he loved his son and that what he was doing was worth his time. Or.. as always he probably just said something along the lines of Julius wasting his time, effort, and money. Julius swallowed at the thought as his eyes hung on the familiar door now before him.

He rose his hand hesitantly before the door, closing his eyes for a slight moment before he finally flicked it forward and offered a hard knock. Maybe one day he'd be able to look into his father's face without shame because he was able to accomplish something that neither of his sons or extended family were able to. He knocked once more, this time putting some more force into it as he heightened the pitch in his voice, trying to portray his face through the door.

"Lairia? Are you awake?"

His brows began to knot in worry as no answer was audible through the thick wooden door. The same hand moved from the upper area of the door as it slid to the door handle. He seemed to hesitate a moment before turning, perhaps somewhere in his heart hoping he'd feel a tug on the other side of the knob. Damn it all, he thought to himself. There had to be something wrong. His face contorted into a look of panic as the thought of Lairia's death traced throughout his mind.

His hand quickly turned the knob as his other hand whipped his blade from it's belt, pushing his shoulder into the door as he attempted to use it as a makeshift shield towards any thing that was waiting for him on the other side. What was waiting on the other side as Julius's turbulent eyes spread across the room, was the body of his dead sister. In seconds, his blade returned to his sheath as his body sunk to it's knees. For many long moments he held his position against the floor, his eyes searching, hopeful that this was some sick dream or a joke. Her body never moved though the silence.

His eyes stayed on her body as tears began to stain his cheeks, a hand lifted forward to tilt her head up to look at him. At the motion, perhaps upstairs and the rooms beside him, one might hear a shrill shout. He dropped the chin in his eyes, his palm covered in a thick coat of blood. The bastard had to destroy her face as well? Father would put blame on Julius for no proper protection of his prized sister. The one that was to be married off to strengthen the bonds of the families back home.

Julius eyes searched the room for any signs as his forearm rose to wipe away the tears on his cheeks. His eyes slowly come to rest on the name splintered with blood on the floorboards. He slammed his fist into the ground roughly as he muttered to himself, "That bastard will die." He stood from his kneeled position slowly, reaching for the table as he pocketed the note. He sucked in a deep breath as he seemed to regain himself, bending once more to place his hands around the fallen woman.

He slumped the limp figure over his shoulder as he made his way out of the tavern. He ignored the wild looks and the tears that flew freely from his eyes as he carried the body through the town towards the eastern gate.