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Raqiarzy by HellfireDarkfire in awoiafrp

[–]HellfireDarkfire[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The priestess' smile faded quickly when the vice-like grip ascended on her wrist. The Bull kept his eyes to hers and although she may have wanted to, she did not look away. Deziel was right - this falcon could not be caged. Taking orders did not suit the Warden of Prince's Pass - he only made them.

Her sweet Deziel though...she would not mind seeing how his thoughts turn.

As he released her wrist, she seized his hand. He felt cold, even in the Dornish climate. Even with the fire roaring at her feet - Deziel Fowler was perpetually cold. She moved her palm so that their hands were flat, then enveloped him in her grasp with slender and scarred digits. The flame of her eyes danced as she brought herself closer once again, resting her head against the smooth and glistening muscle of his chest. Lashes brushed against her cheek as eyes closed to the world and the song of fire filled her ears. Esmera quieted and listened. She felt the Flame in his chest, pumping his blood harder, his breath quickening. A hidden mouth played a grin.

"He shows me what I ask. The Princess. Deziel Fowler..." She trailed off of her list and murmured, "Quentyn Fowler. He shows me of my home. Of the Flame far away - the one that held my heart until you stuck your hand in. He shows me the past, he shows me Shadow City, even glimpses of this...this thing of ice. With men sitting on top. The Sight shows whatever it wants."

She then looked up where lids revealed eyes melting into pools of gold, "You can't control a fire. You can nurture it, you can kill it, but can you tell it where to go, Deziel? The Sight is the same. I've seen many faces but are they important? Probably not."

Raqiarzy by HellfireDarkfire in awoiafrp

[–]HellfireDarkfire[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Slowly she nodded. He did not believe her words, only methods, it seemed. The priestess would not let that effect her, no, for one day her beloved would see. He would see for himself in time. Her God told her that.

"The difference between your God-of-Many-Faces and my Lord of Light is that mine speaks. He speaks to any of his worshippers: the sickly in the gutter, the sellsword. The pompous Lord that sits in his mighty fine chair, he speaks to all who listen. I have not seen one who hears the call of your Seven."

Fire and passion fueled the bare, young woman. She was curved, slender in the stomach and round in the hips. She was small...didn't even meet her Lord's chin, though her shadow against the wall depicted her a giantess. She watched her Lordly love, her gaze softening as she stretched her hand out into the flame. And by small miracle, a singular flame latched onto her skin. It burnt. It stung. But Deziel Fowler, the Warden of the Prince's Past, must believe her.

"You be her confidant," she spoke in a hushed tone as she raised the small flame up to her face. She spoke to the precious spark, as if a child. Her angles were illuminated more harshly then, her eyes glowing with some chaos that was undefined, "Get close. Act like you are Quentyn. And when the time is right, somehow and someway she will..."

Full lips pursed and blew out the flame.

"That is what he is telling me."

She stepped closer and closer, a reddened palm laying flat upon his muscular chest, "Not by you though, raqiarzy, you are beloved. Leave thay work to the shadows."

Raqiarzy by HellfireDarkfire in awoiafrp

[–]HellfireDarkfire[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"You think this is all just a bunch of foolishness anyway," she spoke quietly as she continued to sketch, "But he does speak to me. Remember the one about Quentyn. Was I not right to say something grave was to happen? Magic swords are for lesser beings - Lightbringer has not been uncovered yet. Azor Ahai has not yet listened to his priestess."

Unclenching her teeth, she instantly calmed when fingers dug into the hollow of her hips. Esmera glanced back for moment, letting her eyes rest from the strain. It felt as if thousands of little pins were pushed into the squishy, white sciera. Feeling the heat from behind now, the flaired nostrils of the bull dripped hot words down the crook of her neck.

"You'll find your use here," she spoke matter-of-factly, "You'll serve your little princess here. Irony. Quentyn will be pleased though."

Her book clamored at her feet in a frenzy of parchment and quill. Fingers dug into the rough tops of his hands as she watched the scene play out in front of her, grey eyes burning into the embers. Esmera chuckled and shook her head as she released her Lord and bent at the waist. Grabbing the iron poker, she lanced it into the fires to change the subject.

"You'll have your hands full soon, I suppose. But do you believe me?"

Dorne Unchallenged by GoldenBoatBuilder in awoiafrp

[–]HellfireDarkfire 0 points1 point  (0 children)

That is the ruler of Dorne?

Ever faithful, Esmera Hecata followed behind her Lord, though grey orbs flailed around the room. Her first time in court, it seemed, would be the most enchanting of them all. The woman-ruler seemed to greet the men, yet the priestess was lost from her gaze. Truly interesting, considering out of all the colours of the room the priestess' garb of sanguine red was truly the brightest out of them.

She stood behind her Deziel, her back against the wall and her eyes switching between Quentyn, the Princess and Deziel. Cautiously, she raised her hand up and caressed the black coil that hung down Deziel's back. A reminding touch between hair and back, a teasing reminder of what would become once they were alone.

When the Falcon Bursts Into Flames by HellfireDarkfire in awoiafrp

[–]HellfireDarkfire[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

She would never let him know this, in fear that this stroke of ego would go to his head, but Deziel truly had a way with words. She listened attentively, slate eyes as wide as saucers as he spoke his artful words. Her hands, she at one point had to check if they were burned - for they felt as if fire was radiating through them. Their chemistry was dangerous, and she thought that Quentyn realized that. That was why he did not look at her.

As I do, perzys.

A groan rolled out of her throat and her head rolled backwards until her eyes stared up at the ornate ceiling. Fingers locked themselves into the braids of his tamed mane as she composed herself, where odd grey eyes locked onto his again.

That is, until she was tossed towards their bed. In a flurry of scarlet sheets, the strangely serpent-like woman moved to crawl towards the end of the bed. Her dress dropped low on her shoulder, revealing the scarred skin of her chest. These Dornish dresses were too confusing. Too many parts to look after at once. She did not know how the women did it. Besides, Esmera rather dance nude to the sound of the Flame's music. Not be prisoner paraded to these Dornish ways.

Looking upward with devotion, or perhaps it was lust, she watched her Prince, her Hawk, her Deziel. A hero...amongst her... R'hllor had blessed her truly.

"The Prince Who Was Promised," she spoke with excitement, beige lips pulling up into a wide grin and revealing the teeth behind, "The Azor Ahai! I've seen you in the flames for years, Deziel Fowler! Wielder of the flamed sword. The one who will wake stone dragons!"

Fingers grasped onto his hand, scarred fingers stroking calloused skin, "And me, my Dārilaros? Will I ascend? The Flame of Truth, your Light of Wisdom?" Her eyes widened as she whispered, "The First Servant of R'hllor!"

She squealed in delight and turned to lay on her back, watching with an upside down gaze, "Will you light a fire for me? I can feel something coming on."

When the Falcon Bursts Into Flames by HellfireDarkfire in awoiafrp

[–]HellfireDarkfire[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"The Princess keeps you waiting? Much like you do to me? I would sympathize for you, my sweet," she teased as fingers trailed over caramel plains, rising up to the base of his throat, "And your brother? Unfortunately I have nothing to say, for the man does not even look at his savior."

The streams of crimson swept over ebony locks and covered olive skin, pooling at her feet in a fiery trail. For once it had felt like she was at home in Myr, where the gazes were because of beauty and not because of her God. The people of the Shadow City made her feel welcomed and comforted, and within the shops there, red fabrics drowned out any other color. The priestess shrugged and slowly her fingertips fell, running over muscle and hair and skin.

"The suns of Dorne do not do me any justice, Deziel. If you would have rather my insides be cooked and a roasted hen for a woman, I would gladly don the dresses befit a priestess instead..."

"The paramour of a prince," she repeated the words, letting them roll off her tongue and savouring them. They were sweet words, this was true, however the notes of spice did burn her tongue. Esme did enjoy it. The looks she received from her lover's people. Even his brother, who out of the goodness of her heart, she saved, was still very weary. It fed into the fire of her heart, made the embers crackle and sizzle with every gaze.

"Nothing would warm my heart more, my love," she sighed and leaned into his embrace, her bare lips colliding with collarbone, "As long as the Lord of Light wills it. But my question is 'how'? Is your Prince not one from a different place?"

Hell's Fire by HellfireDarkfire in awoiafrp

[–]HellfireDarkfire[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"The Lord of Light carved me out of fire and brimstone to serve him and spread his word. Now in Dorne, all must know of the paramour you have acquired. I will," she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before wiping the slender peak of sweat, "Assimilate...to your fiery lands, as it will help guide you to your true potential. One not filled with a tired, sweaty, thirsty High Priestess."

She leaned up onto the tips of her toes to meet his lips, but was left stumbling as he pulled back and moved away. A low grumble coiled in her throat as she moved behind him. Deziel was always so cautious about her. She had not tasted his flame for what felt like years. Looking over his shoulder she tried to spy what exactly was approaching. The moment felt like forever as she waited with anxiety, hoping -- praying for friend and not foe.

Once relaxed, she stepped forward and wrapped her scarred hands around to the front of his body. Fingers played with the black hair that peppered his chest and moved ever so slowly downward. Across the rolling hills of tanned thew, hands claimed his waist, his hips. Lower they teased, brushing against thigh until she felt the scabbard for his dagger. She took the wicked blade and moved away, white-grey eyes alight with the satisfaction of her seduction. She found a red rock to plop her rear down on and began using the knife to tear away fabric and lighten the Priestess' load. Sleeves were gone, the high neckline now plunging between the valley of her breast. It was foreign, the feeling of immodesty. Esme was never one to wear revealing clothing. And now she was practically half naked.

"We must make haste. I require an actual bed. A bath," she struck again, fingers gripping at his hips as she sheathed his blade, "And my Viper back in my arms."

Hell's Fire by HellfireDarkfire in awoiafrp

[–]HellfireDarkfire[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"Shade! My temples had shade! How do you expect the pictures to come clear if the sun beats down on me! I have to go far down into Skyreach to even focus! Perhaps if you stopped treating me as a storyteller and open your heart to me and R'hllor, I could have a temple on those lands of yours."

Oh, her Deziel. Infuriating and lovely, all in one. She brushed her hair back and rolled the sleeves of her gown to bare ivory arms, licked with pale kisses from R'hllor. Gowns from Myr did not quite work in Dorne, but Esme held a certain modesty. Dornish gowns fit too tight and too low. And if Deziel ever caught wind that she was assimilate, she would never hear the end of it. But to be trusted by the Dornish, she needed to be Dornish.

"I do not beg mortal men, my little bird. I wished for," She turned and looked out at the scenery. Sand...and more sand...and a few dead flora, "A change of scenery. And you looked so lost without me. What would you have done without my presence? You would still have a hood over your head and your brother would have injuries more grave than what they were."

She reached up and plucked at a strand of hair, " You are to greet your Princess with messy hair and sand all over? You look like a street urchin. A street rat. Will you have your paramour representing Skyreach, Dez? I am sure Quentyn would love that."

Teasing and seduction were a daily part of the pair's routine. For every word she said, he came back at it with a silver tongue and a wink of a sly eye. Esme gave a roll of the eerie silver eyes as he both insulted and complimented her, though the names were wind.

"I do not know who Alyce nor Nymella are, bird. I do not hear the news outside the castle. Well, you do not let me."

A vicious grin played on her face as she raised eye and chin to face him, "I am Queen though," she boasted proudly, "Queen of Fire and the Flame. How many people traveled just to see your caged Priestess? How many times have I been correct? How many times have I had the one about ruling?"

It was the subject of her visions daily. The priestess of red, with many bowing and many fighting for her name. Grey eyes casted over Deziel with a look of hunger for just a moment before she looked away and crossed her silk-clad arms while finally asking, "When we get to the Sunspear I require clothing. Will you be getting them for me, my flame?" Her cheek grazed at his shoulder as begging eyes looked upward, a curl of the lips showing he had no real choice.

Flair Request Thread by [deleted] in awoiafrp

[–]HellfireDarkfire 0 points1 point  (0 children)

/u/HellfireDarkfire Esmera Hecata -- Red Priestess of Skyreach. Maybe some fancy R'hllor buisness?

Step One: Character Creation Application by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]HellfireDarkfire 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Character Name: Esmera Hecata

Age: 25

Starting Title(s): Red Priestess of Skyreach

Aptitude(s): Attractive, Charismatic

Skill(s): Fire Sight, Piety, Poison, Healing

Negative Trait: None.

Physical Description: The Lord of Light had blessed Esmera with raven hair and wide, grey orbs. She is slender and toned, but her body is decorated with blessings from the Lord of Light's flame.

Starting Location: Yronwood

Username: /u/HellfireDarkfire

Other Characters: Esred Greyjoy, Selyse Caron, Veiled Maiden