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Post by isadora on Jul 22, 2010 23:40:23 GMT -5
 Well, that was some small consolation, at least her father was all right, even if she wasn't. She gave a startled yelp when he lifted her off her feet, how was it that he made it seem so easy? She cursed him when he didn't put her down, robbing her of another chance to run away, even if it was short-lived. Who knew, maybe eventually all her attempts would pay off, and she'd make it. She hated him more with every step, just wishing he'd put her down...and then he tossed her bodily into some kind of wooden structure. She gave a brief cry of pain as she hit the hard surface, before she managed to stifle it by biting her lip.
Pulling herself up into a sitting position, she tried to orient herself, but the floor seemed to be...moving? And she could hear the sloshing sound of water against the sides. She was in a boat. They wouldn't be able to track them if they took a boat. Using the lip of the boat to pull herself up onto her knees, she looked over the edge at the water rushing below, wondering how strong the current was. It had to be deep...deep enough to drown. If she jumped in, would he follow her? Would she survive? She didn't like her chances, and dropped back down into a sitting position in the corner, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.
She glared up at him stubbornly, pulling her cloak more tightly around her. She didn't bother speaking to him anymore, what would be the point? She already knew what he was like, one of those men who felt he could take what he wanted, regardless of what it meant to anyone else. And she knew what he wanted; money, or power. She didn't need to know why. Maybe he had noble intentions, but did that make what he was doing to her any better? He'd told her that her father was dying, taking advantage of her emotions to get his opportunity. Good people just didn't do things like that.
((Good night, have a good sleep!)) [/size] |
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Post by isadora on Jul 22, 2010 22:20:14 GMT -5
Full blown panic took hold when he did catch her, and while it may have been smarter to just do as he said and save her strength, she couldn't. She fought against him with everything she had, which wasn't much, but it was all she could do. Already too out of breath for screaming, she fought his hold with everything she had, trying to free even just one arm. She felt so powerless, silent tears running from her eyes as she ceased her struggling, realizing that she didn't have a hope of fighting him off. Even if she weren't tired from the ride, he was still too big and too strong, not to mention that he probably knew how to fight.
She sagged against his hold in defeat as he delivered his ultimatum, her pride bristling as he gave her a choice. Did he really think she was going to make this any easier for him? Nevermind that it would be easier for her, too...if she couldn't get away, she could at least make life as difficult for him as possible. Not that she would tell him so. Let him figure it out when he let her go next. When she caught her breath, she didn't even dignify his question with a response. "You were lying about my father? He's in no danger?" She asked, even if she was sure it had been a lie, she felt compelled to ask. Besides, she wanted more time to catch her breath before he let her go again.
Was she angry? Yes. Afraid? Terrified. Panicking? Yes, but that was passing. Rationally, she knew there wasn't anything she could do now, which was really just all the scarier. Maybe making him angry wasn't a good plan; but Isadora didn't care. She was a noble, after all, she had her pride, her dignity, and that demanded some form of small revenge against this injustice, which meant that even if it cost her, she was going to make life as difficult for him as she could manage until someone saved her. Because they would. She was sure of it, she had to be. [/size] |
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Post by isadora on Jul 22, 2010 21:31:46 GMT -5
When the knight stopped suddenly, she pulled up on her reins abruptly, leaning over to pat the horse's sweaty neck soothingly. The ride had been as hard on the beast as it had on the lady, her breathing labored, some of the pins having fallen from her hair, letting tousled locks hang loose around her face. She was growing increasingly anxious the longer they rode, so she was grateful that they had arrived. She put her hands on his shoulders as he lifted her from the horse. "Where is my father?" She asked as her feet hit the ground.
He didn't answer, and then he ignored her as a child ran forth. A letter? What letter? There was no one here. They were far from the castle...would they be hunting this far out? The letter tugged at her mind, and she was surprised when he sent the child off on her horse. Slowly, her eyes widened as realization dawned, the signs she hadn't been paying attention to crashing down around her. He grabbed at her arm, but she yanked it back before he had a grip, and then she was running.
Could she get away? Probably not. But her body was reacting, her mind still reeling with everything she'd missed; how could she not have seen it? It was so obvious. Her head start wouldn't be enough, he was bigger than she was, almost certainly faster. Even if she weren't wearing a ridiculous dress that hindered her movements, he probably still could've caught her. But she couldn't not run, she couldn't stop running now that she'd started. Fear pushed her, and adrenaline poured through her veins, spurring her on. If she stopped, her life would be in his hands, and she couldn't just let that happen, even as she cursed herself for her ignorance. [/size] |
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Post by isadora on Jul 22, 2010 20:50:54 GMT -5
An hour. Her panic began anew. All their court healers told her that the sooner treatment could be given for his ailment, the less severe the damage would be. If he was an hour out, that meant it would be at least two hours before the healer would even be able to get to him, much less treat him! Her hoped dwindled rapidly, and her spirits fell. The sooner she could be by her father's side, the better.
"Very well, we'll ride at your pace, if I have difficulty keeping up I'll let you know." Could she handle a hard ride? Maybe. She'd rode for days on end before, but they didn't push it more for the sake of the horses than the princess; it was well known among the knights of her escort that Isadora hated spending nights on the road, especially when she had things to attend to, whether they were at Caerleon or another kingdom. For the sake of her father, she was certainly willing to make the attempt...even if the worst were to occur, Isadora couldn't stand the thought of letting him die without saying goodbye.
She didn't question the knight as he led her away, and no one else did either. She had no reason to fear for herself, only her father. She had no idea where they were hunting, either; it hadn't seemed like something she'd need to know, so beyond the knowledge that it was in the forests near the castle, she hadn't thought to inquire. She remembered how her father had seemed so lively this morning, excited to go out on a hunt. He hadn't gone in so many years, and she knew he missed those things. In his youth, he'd been a man of action, a knight and a great hunter, as he was fond of telling her. A strapping youth, it was part of why she hadn't protested more vehemently that he stay away from the dangerous hunt; he was just so happy, like a little kid again. How could she say no to that? [/size] |
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Post by isadora on Jul 22, 2010 20:11:42 GMT -5
When her eyes fell on the waiting horses, Isadora didn't question it. She didn't ask how he had gotten the horses saddled and ready so quickly, nor why there were no castle grooms holding the reins and bowing as she approached. She didn't even notice that it wasn't her usual mare, the steady horse that usually bore her everywhere. They were all important questions, all things she should have noticed, and would have, were her mind not too busy with thoughts of her father. The man couldn't have known it, but he had found the one perfect way to make Isadora forget everything a lady of noble birth should never forget for her own safety.
The worst thing that she didn't notice was that there was only one knight; her own men would never let Isadora leave the safety of the castle with but one man to keep her safe. It was well known that she had never even held a sword in her life, let alone wielded one with any measure of success, and one man, even a knight, was simply not sufficient to keep her safe should ne'er do wells wish her harm. But she missed all the signs, and even if she was surprised by how roughly he passed her up into her saddle, she said nothing, instead settling herself onto the saddle for the ride while she waited for him to mount up. She traveled often, and she was comfortable enough on a horse, even if it wasn't necessarily her favorite place to be. She could handle a horse well enough.
She followed the knight outside the gates, resisting the urge to spur her horse onward and gallop the whole way; she didn't even know how far out they were. "Do we have far to go?" His worry about dangers of the road went over her head, what did she care for her own safety right now? When her father could be dying, or worse, already dead? Of course she would stay close, she just wished he would go a little faster. Again, she failed to notice the way he rode, without the grace and airs of a knight who had been trained to fight as well on horseback as he could on foot, if not better, as the knights of Gwent were. She simply wasn't paying attention. [/size] |
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Post by isadora on Jul 22, 2010 19:21:41 GMT -5
Genuine fear took hold of her features at the knight's words, all thoughts of caution or propriety long gone from her mind as the man went on. Wounds? She had only feared a relapse of his condition...if he was injured, things could be much worse. What if infection set in? He wouldn't recover, she was certain of that. She stared at him without really seeing the man in front of her, her mind reeling at the possibilities. He could already be dead. Her eyes focused on him when he reminded her how pressed they were for time, and she nodded, her body moving without her mind following its course. "Of course, you're right."
Dipping back into her room, she opened the wardrobe and withdrew a velveteen cloak, a much paler blue than her dress, throwing it around her shoulders and fastening the silver clasp hurriedly, before she followed the knight out into the corridors, already heading for the castle's stables. Of course they would send for her, all the knights knew that if anything should happen to her father, the first course was to bring him whatever healers were available, then to get her. Healers first, then her, she had drilled it into them. She had no knowledge of science or the human body that could help her father, so her presence was only if the worst should happen...so she could say goodbye.
It was not knowing that was the worst part, as it always was. Isadora was good in a crisis, always had been able to keep her cool and make decisions that men balked at, but when she didn't have all the information, when she didn't know what her father's situation was, she couldn't help but worry. She just keep tearing herself apart for letting him go in the first place, why had she been so stupid? Letting the other kingdoms know of her father's frailty was a small price to pay if the cost of keeping it from them was his life. But that was her father, through and through...duty first, then personal affairs. She was the same way, except that her greatest duty had always been looking after him.
She moved very quickly, so much so that even the palace staff had difficulty scurrying to one side of the wide passages as she hurried by, bowing their heads respectfully, although she was too distraught to pay them any heed. She was on the verge of panic, knowing that the thought that her father needed her was the only reason she hadn't broken down at the news. [/size] |
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Post by isadora on Jul 22, 2010 18:08:27 GMT -5
Wincing as a maid teased her long hair tightly back, Isadora found herself looking in the mirror, and, not for the first time, envying the long, spiraling locks of the girl behind. It was silly, and childish, and vain, she knew all those things...and yet she couldn't help but think that maybe, if her hair weren't so blastedly pin-straight, she wouldn't have to endure the torture of having it combed and pinned every time there was a ball or a banquet or some other affair of state for which she had to look beautiful. Then she chided herself. Who honestly complained that looking beautiful was a chore? Princesses, apparently, if her visit here was any indication.
Isadora wasn't the only princess here, but she was the only one who appeared to have any participation in the actual peace talks that occurred before the partying began. She wasn't really surprised; the kings hadn't liked having her there, she could tell, even if they didn't have any problem with Prince Arthur at his father's right hand. But how could she leave her father alone in these negotiations? It was troubling enough that he'd had to make the long, tiresome journey here in the first place, she wasn't about to abandon him to those vultures.
But the peace talks were over now, and much to Isadora's surprise, they had been successful, and now the entire kingdom of Camelot was celebrating, a celebration that would no doubt be repeated on their return to Caerleon. She gave a slight muffled sigh, before she squeezed her eyes shut tight as the maid pulled tightly on her hair. Only a few more days of this, she told herself. Then they'd be traveling, and fortunately, none of her knights expected her hair to be combed while they were on the road...in fact, she thought they'd be quite unnerved if it was.
When she opened her eyes, the woman appeared to be done, and Isadora forced a graceful smile as the woman excused herself, bowing, apparently to make some other preparations for tonight. She was grateful that she wasn't expected to participate in today's events, at least, not until the menfolk returned with their prizes later in the day. She did worry about her father, he wasn't really well enough to be out hunting, but they had managed to keep details of his illness from the other kings throughout the negotiations, they couldn't risk giving the truth away now. He had promised to be careful, and Isadora had sent all but a few knights with him to ensure his safety, despite his protests; what could happen to her here, safe in the castle, she'd argued.
A knock at the door had her turning towards the source; it wasn't her maids, they used the servants entrances and entered silently, so it must be someone else. Alone in the room, she smoothed the wrinkles from her deep navy skirt as she stood, checking her reflection in the mirror quickly before she headed to the door. Her gown was in the colors of Gwent, a deep navy with black accents and gold brocade, and, loathe as she was to admit it, the girl had done well with her hair. She'd have to thank her properly later, she thought to herself as she opened the heavy wooden door.
The man on the other side was unfamiliar, which was curious; she thought she knew all of the knights of Gwent. But the thought was driven from her mind as soon as he spoke, her eyes going wide with alarm. "My father? Has something happened, is he all right?" Worry was evident in her tone and her heart raced, she immediately regretting allowing him to go on the hunt; it was too much for him, she had known it would be, but she'd let him placate her. Now what if the worst had happened? [/size] |
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Post by isadora on Jul 12, 2010 18:00:07 GMT -5
-raises hand- Can I thread with Uther, too? Pretty please? ^^
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Post by isadora on Jul 12, 2010 17:56:25 GMT -5
 Halting outside the heavy wooden grate that served as Camelot's main castle gate, Isadora leaned forward on her saddle horn, reaching forward to stroke the neck of her bay mare affectionately while the lead knight shouted greetings to the guards at the gate, lest they decide they were enemies of the state and start pelting them with arrows. That was certainly not how Isadora had envisioned returning to Camelot.
They had sent word of their visit in advance, but thanks to good riding conditions that had allowed them to ride longer each day, they had arrived a few days earlier than anticipated. Isadora was glad, she preferred to spend less time on the road if she could. She looked up when she heard the creak of the gate opening, and she straightened up in her saddle, peering around the shoulders of the knight riding in front of her briefly. Despite her exhaustion from the long ride, she was excited to have finally arrived, it reminded her of when she was small and she and her father would make the journey here together, and she was looking forward to seeing Prince Arthur again.
She didn't have long to wait, it seemed, as she rode through the gate, she could see a young man approaching from the castle quickly, and from the deference the other knights showed him as he passed by, she felt certain that he was Prince Arthur, and she smiled brightly. He was so...tall! It was really all she could make out from here, but it was, in itself, startling. She remembered when she was taller than he was. Those days were over, it appeared. She pulled up on the reigns, bringing her horse to a halt as the castle hostlers approached. "Arthur? Is that really you?" She called out laughingly as he came closer. [/size] |
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Post by isadora on Jul 12, 2010 0:05:04 GMT -5
Riding through the bustling castle town of Camelot, Isadora paid more attention to the activity of the peasants, so busy with the morning market, than to where she was headed. It wasn't like she was in danger of getting lost; her escort of knights, adorned with the blue and black crest of Gwent, rode both in front and behind her, ensuring that no one got too near the princess, and effectively ensuring Isadora couldn't get lost in an unfamiliar city. She smiled at those who paused in their business to bow or curtsy respectfully, giving a slight inclination of her head to return their respect before she let her gaze move on.
She was startled by how foreign the place seemed; she seemed to recall spending a great deal of time in Camelot as a child, yet she found very little of what she saw struck any sort of remembrance in her. Thinking back, she hadn't spent very much time in the town itself when she was young, having instead been kept mostly to the castle, which had been more than entertaining enough for a young girl. Never mind that she had her own castle back in Gwent, this one had been shiny and new, the earliest place besides Caerleon she could recall spending time in. It had been so exciting back then, and she wondered if it would feel the same now. She could see the main gate now, white stone towering over the huddled masses of wooden structures imposingly, and she supposed she would find out soon.
[/size] Time frame: after episode 8, before episode 9 [/size] |
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Post by isadora on Jul 10, 2010 1:36:40 GMT -5
 | ~ • ~ | Character Basics | ~ • ~ |
.:Name of Character:. Princess Isadora Theirin of Gwent
.:Nick Name:. Dora to her father, Milady to her subjects
.:Age:. 21 (in season 1)
.:Status:. Royalty
.:Race:. Gwentite
| ~ • ~ | Appearance | ~ • ~ |
.:Physical Appearance:.
Born of royal blood, Isadora possesses the soft hands and build of a woman who has never before worked a day in her life, appearing as slender and graceful as ever a princess was, with full curves and long legs. In the style typical of noble ladies, she wears her long, dark brown hair tied back with two small braids from the front, letting the rest of her straight hair fall down her back. She’s often jealous of those women with lovely curls, but her own hair is painfully straight, unwilling to hold even the slightest hint of a curl, so Isadora sometimes compensates by braiding flowers, ribbons or other lovely, pretty things into her hair instead. She knows it’s simple vanity, but after being cloistered away for most of her life, she likes to indulge in these foolish pleasures. Her eyes are a rather unextraordinary shade of brown, rimmed by dark lashes and set above high cheekbones and a nose lightly dusted with freckles. She has full lips tinted a pleasant shade of pink and ivory skin, evidence of an easy life spent mostly indoors. Isadora dresses as befits her station, in beautiful dresses made of luxurious fabrics, cloaks of finely spun and dyed wools and trimmed with soft furs, topped off with intricate gold and jewels.
.:Height:. 5’7”
.:Portrayed by:. Gemma Arterton
| ~ • ~ | Personality | ~ • ~ |
.:Personality:.
Educated from an early age in the arts of negotiation and diplomacy, Isadora is an intelligent young lady, capable of using her knowledge to the benefit of her people. A firm believer in the Christian faith, Isadora has been taught since childhood that magic is evil and the old religion is wrong, and that those who perpetuate those beliefs must be stopped. However, she also believes in forgiveness and mercy, and thinks that those who use magic can be changed from their evil ways, if only they are given the chance. She is fair and strong-willed, and wishes only for peace and prosperity for her kingdom and her people.
Raised in wealth and luxury, Isadora doesn’t quite understand how spoiled she’s been for the duration of her life. She believes in the divine right of Kings, that she and her family rule because God himself chose them, because they are worthy and have every right to everything they possess. But she sees the other side of that right, the responsibility that she bears to her people to be a strong, worthy monarch who deserves their loyalty. She understands that a ruler needs their people as much as those people need a ruler, and she does her best to earn her position, to give them as much as she expects from them.
A pacifist, she tries to avoid violence and warfare whenever possible, although she isn’t so naïve as to believe that talking can solve every problem. She believes in diplomacy and hates having to send her people off to war, and would do just about anything short of surrendering her kingdom to avoid it. She has no talent for the art of war or fighting of any kind, having spent her life learning diplomacy and etiquette, and so relies on the advice of others when forced to deal with the military aspects of ruling.
Very proud of her heritage and her country, Isadora can be very stubborn when it comes to what she believes are her rights as a noble. Since she’s never had to look after herself, she can’t do many simple things that other people take for granted, like cooking for herself or mending her own clothing, or even fixing her own hair. She sees nothing wrong with this, since she has other things to worry about, like ensuring that their southern neighbor doesn’t invade over trade contracts. Sometimes she can be inconsiderate of her servants, but that’s about all you can expect of a noble, right?
.:Strengths:. Diplomacy, intelligence, strong will, curious, optimist, love for her country & people, fair-minded, confident.
.:Weaknesses:. Physically weak, incapable of performing day-to-day tasks for herself, stubborn, idealist, daydreamer, no fighting skill whatsoever.
.:Magic Abilities:. None
.:Special Skills:. Negotiation, persuasion,
.:Accents:. London
| ~ • ~ | History | ~ • ~ |
.:Birthplace:. The Castle of Gwent
.:Family:.
Father: King Alistair Theirin of Gwent(74)
Mother: Queen Isobel Theirin of Gwent (Deceased)
.:Occupation:. Officially none, but has been effectively ruling her father’s kingdom in his place for the last three years as his health has deteriorated.
.:Current Location of Residence:. Officially Gwent, but she travels often.
.:History:.
The only child born to King Alistair of Gwent, Isadora grew up in wealth and splendor, never wanting for anything in her life. While her mother died when she was very young, her father was very affectionate and did his best to make up for her lack of a mother, encouraging noble ladies to come to their home at the castle of Gwent as often as possible so she could learn the proper etiquette. Of course, it was always evident that whoever married the young Isadora would become a very wealthy and powerful man; which was why when she was fourteen, her father sent her to live in a nunnery, where she would be educated by the sisters there, and be kept safe from the greedy eyes of men. She returned to the castle when she was eighteen, when she learned her father had taken ill.
Her years with the nuns were spent mostly in study, learning history and scripture from the sisters, along with a strong belief in the evil of magic and the wrongness of the old religion. She learned etiquette and manners suitable to her station, how to treat others and how to behave. In her free time, when she wasn’t required to sit in lessons, her time was mostly spent reading, with little else to do within the high, sturdy walls of the nunnery, and she found her way to the tales of far off lands, romantic stories of adventure and honorable heroes. When word reached her that her father had taken ill, Isadora wasted no time in returning home to look after him.
Elderly even before Isadora was born, the King had always been a strong man, both in body and mind, and was known throughout his lands for his kindness and wisdom. So when he suddenly fell very ill, the people were shocked and dismayed, their faith in their ruler wavering. When Isadora returned to find the kingdom in disarray, she immediately set about to restore order. Calling upon the most skilled healers in the realm to look after her father’s health, she took over the responsibility of ruling, meeting with nobles and presiding over the peasants, restoring stability and order to her kingdom.
Her father steadily recovered from his illness, but even when he was well enough to take back responsibility for his lands, Isadora continued to assist in whatever she could, taking over the household affairs of the castle of Gwent entirely and helping her father to deal with the politics of the kingdom, including traveling alongside him or in his place when necessary. Closely allied to Camelot for many years, she’s been spending a great deal of time at their court, working out trade and military arrangements in order to keep the peace.
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