• Closed • My Shattered Heart [Venora]

[Zvezdana Venora]

1st of Vhalar, Arc 716

A tear dropped onto the tattered rug where she lay, curled up in the fetal position in front of the fire. The hearth was the warmest place she could find in all of Sabaissant. Even with the fire so close, Zvezdana felt ice cold. Everything had fallen apart and she was left more alone than she had ever felt before. Actively crying was no longer necessary. The tears just fell on their own. Her parents had not welcomed her back, and everyone practically ignored her. She was yet again the failure of the family. More so, many saw her as the Fallen False Queen, a title that had begun to circulate through every social circle of Rynmere she expected. The Qe’Dreki were fleeing towards Jorick’s Keep as far as she knew. Blackwood was probably already there, trying to figure out exactly what had gone wrong. Vivian was traveling with her and a small group of Qe’Dreki soldiers. The soldiers had elected to stay away from Sabaissant, hiding in the woods for safety while Zvezdana collected a few things. Vivian was her only protection within these walls.

Vivian was fast asleep on the couch in her room at Sabaissant. She had not seen or heard Zvezdana get up from bed to lay before the first. This had occurred multiple nights now, and it did not seem to make her any warmer. Instead, she stared into the fire and cried. The flames dance, mocking her as it ate the wood.

She needed to get out of the room, or she was going to do something she did not want to do. Picking herself up, tears falling effortlessly down her cheeks, she moved quietly out of the room. When she was younger and her father had just come to her late in the night, she would often find herself wandering in the same general direction. She would head to Andráska's room. Her younger brother would always find ways to comfort her. Would he do the same now, when she was practically outcasted by her own family? Did he think of her as Alistair did? Would he go out of his way to shut her out?

Zvezdana’s bare feet carried her in that direction anyways. The corridors were empty of servants as everyone had gone to bed. Besides, no one wanted to come close to Zvezdana’s rooms at this moment or maybe they had been commanded to ignore her. She tightened the blanket around her thin nightgown and thinning body. When was the last time she had eaten or drank anything? Wine was ill advised at this time, with her condition coming to light. Alcohol would hurt the baby, and inhibit her mind enough that she might actually take her own life. She had desired to lose herself in the drink, but Vivian had played her role well and kept it away from her. Maybe Andráska would not be so smart.

She finally ended up at the door to her brother’s room. She leaned against it, tapping her finger against the wood. “Andráska,” Zvezdana whispered, pressing her face against the cool wood. Was he still the light sleep that she remember him to be? “Andráska, please let me in. Please tell me you still see me as your sister. I don’t want you to hate me too. I need you.”

[Andráska Venora]

"My two natures had memory in common."

• 1st of Vhalar, 716 Arc

• Andráska had slept very little since the end of last season, his restless mind refusing to be at ease. He felt lonelier, the sinking feeling of depression trying to creep into his bones, and he had tried combating such feeling with the same old drugs and liquor. Now the substances had just wore off, leaving his mind abandoned and searching. Each of his siblings had been quite busy, both having been caught up in their own affairs, and one of them going as far as to start a rebellion. Instead he had played hero, a pathetic title as he was barely more than a gloried city guard – most of the time shirking his duties anyway to go have a smoke break. What use was he? What was his purpose?
  
  There had been a war, people died. Lowtown in Andaris had been wiped out, meaning damage to where he had been staying in his studio apartment. Now he was living in his childhood home as a temporary measurement, standing on the balcony and overlooking the garden. It was a perfect picture of beauty and peace with lush, green hills and landscaped rose flowers. It amused and saddened him to think a place as glorious as this spawned such negative feelings in him, always loneliest where he was supposed to feel the most welcome.
  
  The warm night air brushed his cheek and he let out a soft sigh. Sometimes the youngest sibling laughed and drank. Sometimes he danced. Now, he didn’t want to do anything. Slowly sinking to the floor, he stretched out his legs and began counting the roses and stars – an impossible task to keep his mind busy. He was almost to three hundred when a soft pattering sounded outside his doorstep. Andras hesitated, his lips parted as he whispered another number, and a voice floated through the door.
  
  Zvezdana.
  
  Andráska sat up, twisting his body to turn and look past the balcony doors, across the room and to the source. When she spoke, it was if she were next to him, pleading sorrowfully into his ear and very few times before in his life had such a feeling of protectiveness overcome him. Being the youngest of the three, he was the one taken care of – the one his brother and sister handled.
  
  Now, one of them was coming to him. He pushed himself off the ground and headed towards the door without a thought – to the woman who many saw as a monster and whose results of destruction he had personally seen. To the rebel queen, with her armies and her power. To his sister.
  
  “…I don’t want you to hate me too. I need you.”
  
  Something in her tone, perhaps the sorrow or desperation, gripped his heart. If there was a Venora used to being forgotten, used to being called the outcast – it was him. In that, they now shared a kinship, and Andras knew how hard being the outsider was. Maybe he was naive, or just tenderhearted, but he opened the door quickly, and saw the eyes of his sibling shimmering with tears in the pale candlelight of the hallway. His own green orbs were soft, compassionate.
  
  She looked different, he realized. Older. Tired. Younger. He didn’t need to say anything. What she needed was support. To know she wasn’t alone. With gentle hands, he reached out and took Zvezdana into his arms, hugging her and resting his chin on her head, “What? You think you can get rid of me so easily?” he smiled for her, craning his neck to try and look at her face, “Start a thousand wars and I’ll still open my door for you,” Andras’ hands rubbed her back soothingly before slowing to a stop. He pulled away and side stepped so that she could enter his suite, something in his mood renewed, if not a bit concerned. A part of him was thrilled to be sought out by family – to be needed. Another part knew she must have been hurting quite a bit to just find him after so long apart. Still, he treated her as if they had seen each other regularly and not seasons past. Had it really been so long?
  
  He had wanted to ask her so many questions since he last saw her, mostly about her wedding. Reasons for the war…. Those seemed ill timed now, and while not one to usually censor his words, he was cautious now, “I missed you. You thirsty? Hungry? Here,” As he moved deeper into the room, he realized it was dimmer than necessary for company, perhaps suggesting that he had been sleeping, however his full attire made it evident that he hadn’t been in bed yet. He moved to the bedside where an elegant oil lamp sat and lit it, brightening the room to reveal its contents more clearly.
  
  Papers were scattered on a desk table, scribbles and markings of what looked to be music notes on the page. A discarded quill beside it with dried ink, as if forgotten. A number of colorful glass bottles had been emptied and collected, placed on window sills and shelves, catching the artificial light and casting soft colors against the wall. A number of bolts were tossed on the mattress and on the other bedside table were throwing knives and a loaded crossbow. Against the wall was a sheathed sword and a pile of leather armor.
  
  He moved around the room, to where a wooden chest sat and bent over, pulling out a bottle of dark liquid. To celebrate being reunited with his sister. Bringing it to his mouth and popping the cork free with his teeth, he tossed the tiny stopper onto the floor when he plopped onto the edge of his bed, attention rightfully returning to Zvez, “What happened?”

[Zvezdana Venora]

The moment Andráska pulled her into his arms, the dam that had been holding her emotions at bay broke. Nothing could stop the tears as she gripped his shirt, sobbing uncontrollably. He didn’t have to open the door. He certainly did not have to take pity on her, the Fallen Queen of Rynmere. She was a rebel now, forsaken by a majority of her family. She was a widow, her husband taken from her by someone she thought was her friend. Everything she thought she knew has been a complete lie. Now she was left to pick up the pieces of her shattered world and attempt to rebuild it; however, all she could do was cry at the moment. Andráska was the benevolent child. Even now he was willing to be there for her despite the choices she had made. The chill of the evening sliced between them as he moved away, inviting her into his rooms. Quietly, and still a sobbing mess, she entered one of the few places she felt safe.

She stood in the center of the room, wincing ever so slightly as he lit his oil lamp. Even in the short bits that had passed, her face already looked worse. Her eyes were puffy and red, the streaks of drying tears lining her face with the droplets clinging to her chin. To avoid looking at him, so that he would not see how ugly she looked, she moved towards his desk. He had always been busy, toiling away via lamp light into the early morning. He had not changed. She laid a few fingers on the paper, noting the music notes. Andráska had been the talented one, Alistair had been the lucky one. What was she to the family?

She turned away from his desk only to take notice of the armor and weaponry scattered throughout his room. When had he become a soldier? Did he serve the crown now? Oh Seven, what if he was to murder her in her sleep on behalf of the king? Zvezdana looked at her brother blankly. No, she could not imagine him doing that. He was no Alistair or Elyna. Without even recognizing what she was doing, Zvezdana began to pace back and forth in front of him. What following was nothing short of a crazed rant of a woman that had had no one to talk to in a very long time.

“She killed him. I was married for no more than a season and she murdered him, his own niece. Elyna Burhan. My own pupil. For whatever malicious reason she had, she drove a dagger right into Veljorn’s neck. She is a Kingslayer as far as I am concerned and a traitor to her family. Then again, aren’t I a traitor to my family? I did not consult my own parents about my choice to wed. I did not even think it necessary to invite my own mother and brother to such a small event. It was not the wedding I had ever imagined, but I did it out of love. I loved him Andráska. Oh how I loved him. He was handsome and strong, and damn was he good in bed,” Maybe a bit too much? A sane mind probably would not have shared that information, but Zvezdana was far from sane at the moment. “He was a man worthy of a woman such as myself. If only I could have offered him a true wife, but Father helped himself to my maidenhood long ago. He even allowed Alistair a helping. Oh, that brother of ours! He sat alongside the boy king with that spiteful face of his beneath the helm of Ser Verne Andaris. Alistair should be ashamed to sport the face of another house. Is he not proud to be a Venoran? Does he not understand that he will sit in the place of our Mother as Baron to the duchy, and here he is, groveling at the feet of the boy king like some sort of starving mutt.”

Her left hand was rubbing the silvery marks left on her right forearm as she raved. They would forever be a reminder of her sins. Deep within her, the demon began to stir. Her sadness was laced with rage and it was incredibly difficult to control. She hated the world for stripping her of her desires, for the crimes people had committed against her in the recent and long dead past. Despite the recent trauma she had sustained, it was bringing up old injuries to her soul. Her father and his self-satisfying need for young flesh. Alistair and his constant elevation above her. He had been sitting next to the king for Seven’s sake. Slowly, she moved closer to him, lowering herself to the floor next to him so she might lay her head against his knee. Although the tears were not being forced out, they still dripped down their paths. Exhaustion made it hard for her to fight the sadness now.

“Everything went wrong András. I thought it was going to be a fairytale ending, but no. Fairytales are for suckers and dreamers,” Zvezdana whimpered slowly, rubbing her wet cheek against his pants. “All I have ever wanted since I was a little girl was to be someone; to be loved and seen. That, apparently, is too much to ask.”

[Andráska Venora]

"My two natures had memory in common."

• 1st of Vhalar, 716 Arc

• Beautiful, graceful Zvezdana, was not simply a flower to behold, but one whose petals had been plucked one at a time, leaving nothing but thorns and the husk of someone struggling to survive. She was grieving, at the loss of her husband. At the loss of her childhood – innocence. Taken, by the man she called father, and their... their brother. Alistair. Veljorn had been her salvation, and that had been taken from her too.
  
  His jaw clenched.
  
  Their father was a sickness, a disease that he had spread to his children, manipulating them – devouring them. He did as he pleased, and this was what his actions reaped. His daughter seeking comfort from the broken child he had not be capable of touching. Andraska wanted to kill him.
  
  He felt his throat go dry, and his body stiffened, his grip around the bottle so tight, he was surprised to find it had not shattered in his grasp. His other rested numbly on his sister shoulder, as she leaned against his leg and wiped her tears against him. He could feel the warmth of her body against the cloth of his pant leg, his skin suddenly going cold. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. His world flashed red, and he had to push away from his sister, leaping from the bed. He felt trapped, the room so small, as if the balcony was shrinking, moving into the room.
  
  Caged, wild, and furious, Andras pulled back his arm to launch the bottle against the wall, but stopped to stare at the container with a horrible fixation. Bringing it to his mouth, he drank deeply, not stopping until the rest of it was consumed. When he pulled it away, he took a deep and refreshed breath as he exhaled fire. A piece of him shut down, containing the fury that roared within him. His heart ached, and he gripped the edge for stability, “Zvezdana,” he whispered, cocking his head to look at the woman before him.
  
  Licking his lips, with a dangerous, lethal calm, Andras set the empty glass container on his end stand. It made barely a sound and his footsteps were carefully placed as he returned to where she sat. Kneeling before her, his bright eyes lowered to stare at her hands, taking them in his own. Wasn't he the biggest dreamer of them all?
  
  “Don't say that,” his voice was soft, and his thumb ran along the back of her hand reassuringly. When the words didn't come fast enough, he lifted his fingers, and as if his sister's face was made of paper, wiped at her wet cheeks, “Those fairy tales didn't have me,” Not an actor, Andraska wore his emotions freely, but forced a smile, that came out more tragic than intended, meeting Zvezdana's gaze. All the things she said about Veljorn deserving her, didn't bother him. She had found love, something he himself still longed for, but to find out she had been broken in secret long ago, pained him, “I can't fix the past, but I can protect your future,” The vow was voiced with utter seriousness, and he let his hand fall, “I promise you justice,” he swallowed, an idea of what that meant already forming in his mind, “I promise you peace of mind."
  
  Andraska took her face in his hands, seeing the entirety of pain – feeling it in the way she looked at him, “I did not know Zvez,” he felt his hand shake with anger, knowing very well where he had been growing up. Running off to the stables – outside these walls that spoke of sins so loudly he had chosen to ignore them. She had withdrew from them all, and while she was here now, what did she think of his cowardice? He would never look away again. "Let them say what they will. You are my blood, a bond that must mean very little. I am a Venora, but... You will always have a place at my table. I see you. I love you.” Andras had applied to be a knight before he had realized who was behind the war. And while he did not ever wish to fight against his sister, he hadn't gone out of his way to give aid. Little Andraska, always avoiding the weight of responsibility. Always choosing himself.
  
  No longer. He leaned forward like a child telling a secret, his voice barely a breath as a ghost of his insanity danced in his green orbs, “I'm going to kill him.”
  
  Father.

[Zvezdana Venora]

She could taste it, the change in the air. The anger was palpable, and it almost stimulated the beast within her to react. Zvezdana couldn’t help but react to the evident rage that was building. Ever so carefully, she pulled away from Andráska, tilting her head to look up at his face for signs of reaction. Originally, he seemed like stone as if he was trying to prevent her words from affecting his core. The minor movement in his cheek suggesting his jaw tightening. Was this what she looked like when she was coping with rage? Zvezdana desperately searched his face for signs of her younger brother. Andráska was the happy one, the one who cared little for the world around him. She had protected him from the reality of their family for so long. Was it wrong, to care so strongly for the safety of another to deny them the knowledge of their own parent?

Zvezdana pulled herself a little further away when he moved to launch the bottle against the wall. She wished he had when he dropped the opening to his lips and chugged the rest of the bottle. Shock gripped her. That was a lot of alcohol to have downed in a single go. She gulped, somewhat fearful as to what it would do to him. The intact glass was set aside and he looked at her like a puppy that had just been kicked in the gut. Guiltily, she looked down. It was she that had kicked him. Coming here tonight was doing more damage than she ever would be able to admit. This is what she had been trying to avoid. To see him so full of sorrow because of her. She wanted to get up and leave right then and there, but he moved to kneel before her.

Fresh tears popped up when he mentioned her fairy tales not having him in it. He proclaimed to protect her future and to bring peace of mind and justice. Were those things even possible? Her face was contorted in a mixture of sadness and concern. Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek into one of his palms, wishing to savor this moment for as long as possible. His words were truthful, reminding her of the sweet things Veljorn would whisper to her in the evenings. Sincerity was hard to find in this dog-eat-dog world.

She collected herself with his last statement, a fearful look clouding her eyes. No. He’ll kill you. She wanted to scream at him for even thinking about it. Their father was a callous bastard with no care in the world for anyone but himself. It was the silent Venoran motto, but he may have been pretty like the rest of him. He was just as ugly and broken on the inside as well. Zvezdana reached up with one hand to stroke Andráska’s cheek. “I know you did not know. I did not want you to know. I should not have told you this evening. I - maybe even we - have only ever wanted to protect you,” Zvezdana choked out. Could she consider that Alistair wanted the same thing for their younger brother. Would he be capable of having a normal life if they took the burden of House Venora on their shoulders?

“You cannot go against him. He is scary strong. I do not want to see you hurt. If he finds out you have intent to kill him, he will kill you first. That is a burden I would throw myself off a cliff for. Knowing that you pursued his death because of me would destroy me,” Zvezdana was practically begging him, without truly getting him to commit to staying away from Baron Venora. She actually rejoiced at the fact he wanted to kill him for her. It would be a dream come true to see him flayed. The thought of his screams coming from the brazen bull had lulled her to sleep while she pictured. him with his head in the guillotine. She had plotted and wished him to die in so many different ways. Now that someone suggested doing it for her, she shied away from it. If it were anyone else, she might have jumped into the plans.

Their foreheads were touching, as she had leaned forward to support him. It was a personal moment between brother and sister, one that probably looked for more intimate than either of them would have intended in a sound mind. “I love you Andráska,” Zvezdana whispered, as if the words were forbidden. The way it sounded made it seem more than sibling affection. In a confusing time and place, it was hard to keep the emotions straight anymore. “I don’t want to see you hurting like this. I don’t want to see you hurt by him. By me.”

She moved her head to his right, as if she was going to place her head on his shoulder. As she passed his cheek, she pressed a gentle kiss on it. It linger only a trill longer than it should have. She then crumbled forward to lean her head against his shoulder, folding herself into his protective embrace.

[Andráska Venora]

"My two natures had memory in common."

• 1st of Vhalar, 716 Arc

• “No,” Andráska protested, shaking his head and holding Zvezdana's shoulders in his hands. The alcohol was already beginning to seep into his system, making his limbs feel heavier than usual, “You should have told me sooner,” A thousand reasons why lined up to the tip of his tongue, but his sister continued to protest, fearing for his life. While she tried to speak some sense into him, he sighed and pulled her hand from his cheek and kissed her fingertips.
  
  “I'm not a little boy anymore, Zvez,” Resolve had already began to sink into his mind, the thought of his father finally getting what he deserved admittedly satisfying. His sister thought he would be pursuing death on her behalf. But wouldn't he be saving them all? He squeezed her palm to reassure her, but knew the results wouldn't be so simple.
  
  His head lulled forward, Zvez pushing her own face against his. They sat like that for a while, time feeling slower and exhausting all at once. When he took a deep breath, Andráska could feel his stomach hot from consumption, and had his sister not pressed her forehead against him, he would have likely attempted to lay down. His head was feeling light, and the depths of his sister's blue eyes lulled him to a brooding peace.
  
  He wanted to... fix everything. To repair the damage that had been done. Always. Was this his curse? Knowing the cruelty of the world and never being able to stop it? His sister's voice was so soft; honest, and when she spoke, a shudder ran through him, “I love you Andráska,” It occurred to him now that both of his siblings had claimed adoration for him, and he had no idea of how to love them back. Not in the way they deserved. Zvez turned his head and his mind was slow to catch up, but her lips pressed against his skin and he leaned into it. He wanted to hold her, and as if she read his mind, his sisters nestled against him.
  
  She folded in his arms, and something in the back of his mind stirred. The contact felt nice, and she smelled of a soothing memory. He didn't want her to worry – not about him. Not now. Not ever. His hand lifted to run down her ebony hair, getting distracted by its texture, as his eyes closed, “He doesn't scare me,” András muttered, his words sounding much louder in the midnight silence surrounding them, “He used to.”
  
  Still tense from her confession, Andráska's mind played images of their father, trying to recall every interaction between his sister and Kaleb, to figure out what signs he had missed. But each thought was quickly lost to the wave of delirium beginning to settle into his blood, and a desperate attempt to cheer up his sister had him crane his neck to disperse a flurry of kisses on the side of her face, one arm locking her into place as his fingers attempted to tickle her ribs. Smiling, it seemed like a good idea at the time – like how one might distract a child from a nightmare, and he when his laughter faded, he pulled her back against him, this time burying his own face into her neck,“I'm fairly certain he's wanted me gone for a long time,” his broad shoulders lifted and fell in an apathetic shrug, “But I was a rebel long before you were, Zvez,” his lips upturned slightly and his mind hiccuped, the words coming slower, it harder to grab his thoughts, “They've never been able to control me... He always said it would be the death of him. How ironic that my legacy is obedience."
  
  "Enough of this, though," Andras patted her back, loosening his grip and turning his attention towards the room, the intimacy of their embrace slowly fading. Something was warning him to not continue such affections. It had just been a long time since they had seen each other. Or, at least that's what he would have justified it as had he been thinking clearly, "You ssshould lay down, get ssssome rest," He smacked his lips together, his mouth feeling dry and turned his eyes back to the balcony where he had been counting the stars, "Oh!" his eyes shot towards the bed and frustrated as his lack of motor skills, was unable to jump up as soon as he wanted. Andraska rose slowly from their spot, hesitating a moment to get his footing, and snatched up some pillows and blankets, nearly tripping in the process. Stumbling to the balcony, he tossed his spoils in a pile, and waved his sister over, "C'mon, we'll... we'll have a ssssleepover. Like. When we were. Kids."
  
  He don't want to think about it anymore, flashes of his father's murder reeling in his mind. Zvez thought him so innocent, and yet that wouldn't be the first death he would be responsible for. How ironic.

[Zvezdana Venora]

Andráska was far from the little boy she had protected for many years. He has become a man - one with nasty habits that needed to be corrected - but a man nonetheless. She respected him and his carefree attitude, his ability to calm her during stressful times. Most people would have called their entire family the main foundation in their lives. Instead, he was her only rock now. She felt safe and sure with him. He had grown up into a highly intelligible, talented, and handsome young man. No one would be good enough for him, and she would be hard pressed to say that she would not be jealous of the girl that ended up marrying him.

Zvezdana gripped at his shirt when he mentioned that he had no fear for their father. Maybe that scared Kaleb, maybe it did not. The only thought that ran through her mind was that Andráska should be scared of their father. He could cause emotional and physical damage far beyond the scope of the coherent mind. For a moment her mind went back to the nights where he came to her and abused her in ways that left deep, unseen scars. This thought would have sucked her into despair had Andráska not began to tickle her. Suddenly, they were kids again. Zvezdana began to giggle, the kisses appreciated on the side of her face. She laughed hard, attempting to buck upwards. Of course, he was a man now and far more capable of pinning her into place than he had been when he was a boy.

When he let up, she sat up, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and rubbing his neck gently as he buried his face into her arms. What she wouldn’t give to be like him. He was able to do whatever he liked, be with whomever he wanted. He had always been a rebel, and she was only just now discovering that path on her own. Taking something that she had wanted - Veljorn’s love - had left her decimated. It had been well worth it, but coming back from it was going to be the most difficult obstacle to overcome.

When he pulled away from her, she could not help but feel cold and alone. Was his body really that comforting to him. Her face flushed when he mentioned bed. Was he…? Her heart jumped in a way that startled her. Internally, she was scolding herself for even considering that; but outwardly, it was incredibly tempting. What was adding the most delicious man from her family to her repertoire? Of course, that would be a dessert she would desire again and again. Once chewing upon the forbidden fruit, it would be difficult to prevent herself from doing it again. Of course, he was able to once again deviate her thoughts. He dragged the bedding and pillows over to the balcony. She got up and followed him, kneeling gracefully on the plush pillows and billowing duvet.

“Just like we when we were kids. Come, rest my stupid drunk brother,” Zvezdana patted the blankets next to her, rolling onto her hip and flopping to her side. Unkept black locks drifted haphazardly around her face, her milky white skin like a star upon the darkest sky. She tucked her legs up into her chest in a loose fetal position, coyly smiling upwards to him. Exhaustion was beginning to take hold of her as well, and soon she would be asleep.

Come tomorrow, this would only be a dream.

[Andráska Venora]

"My two natures had memory in common."

• 1st of Vhalar, 716 Arc

• Andras soon became lost in locating more pillows that when he turned to find a woman lounging on plush bedding looking up at him, he paused. For but a brief moment that liquor in his system was deceptive, showing him a lady with fair skin and raven hair awaiting him to join her, not the tragic form of his sister, who sought his comfort only to acquiesce her own pain. He was quickly reminded who he was with – Zvezdana, not some servant girl, and cleared his throat, his mind fuzzy and confusing. He tossed the plush feather down towards her and before joining her on the pallet, plopped down on the edge of his stripped bed, bending over and fumbling with his boot laces.
  
  His fingers were sloppy, taking longer than necessary to undo a few strings, and he chuckled from his own inability, prying them loose and kicking off the heels with the other. When his feet were freed, he heaved a great sigh and raised his arms above his head to grip at his own back, rising to his feet with unstable balance.
  
  With a grunt, he yanked his shirt upwards and forwards, the dark fabric straining and sliding past his shoulders, revealing the smooth skin of his muscled back as he twisted to pull it free. When his head was released he grinned to himself, tossing it to the ground and rolling his neck in relief. It was always nice to not be constricted. So often he wondered how his mother and sister could breath in their tiny corsets, straining their waists to discomfort. His hands lowered to his belt buckle but paused, green eyes rising to look at his sister who was sprawled before him. He arched his eyebrows in a way that enhanced his natural features, smirking knowingly.
  
  A Venora was still an arrogant bastard, and he turned sharply to reveal his back to his sister, suddenly amused, “I'm not drunk,” he declared, disappearing behind a dressing curtain that nearly disappeared against the pale coloring of the walls, “I'm...” his thoughts were floating away again, his shadowed silhouette frozen behind the curtain as he thought, “Kissed by Illaren. You'd-” he paused to hold back a burp, covering his mouth until it was safe, “be drunk,” he said this with certainty, imagining his sister on anything but wine so tempting, he almost thought to offer her some. He dropped his pants, kicking them away from him and reaching up to pull the spare pair from the covering and fumbled with the facing the article the right way, sighing in frustration as he threw his foot through the leg hole. Everything was gaining an annoying challenge, but he pushed through the haze until his lower half was covered and the waistband secured tight around his hipbones. He emerged from the dressing curtain, head lowered as he focused on tying the string. Bruises, both fresh and old decorated various parts of his shoulders and the muscles of his abdomen. Healing cuts danced across his arms and legs – proof of his new knighthood training, and when he looked up from his fingers, he was already at the foot of where Zvezdana laid.
  
  He had to stop himself from accidentally falling on top of her, catching himself and rolling to the side, laughing like a school boy, “Well, maybe a liiiittle,” he demonstrated by lifting his thumb and forefinger in a measuring motion, dropping beside her and already closing his eyes with a sleepy smile, “Hey, Zvez, guesssss what?” The confession seemed so very far away, the simplicity of the moment distracting him from whatever true emotions wanted to escape.
  
  He blindly reached for his sister, arm laying across her stomach in a loose embrace under the stars, “I love you too.” Mind reeling as it felt like the floor was rocking back and forth, he pulled his sister against him – the sensation of her cool skin pleasant against his own and a nice contrast to the heat he radiated. She smelled so nice, and he inhaled, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. It had been so long since he was this at ease – this... comforted. Often lonely, it was nice to have someone to confide in him, to talk to him, to hold him and vice versa. He liked feeling wanted, and his eyes fluttered open to admire one of the few people who truly accepted him, “Goodnight, Zvezdana.”
  
  Drunk, whether he'd admit it or not, Andraska leaned forward to kiss his sister's cheek, and before he entirely knew what he was doing, his lips brushed against hers with the softest of touch, his body slumping backwards and the world spun again.

[Zvezdana Venora]

Zvezdana giggled and grumbled when the down comforter landed on top of her. She fumbled a little bit to remove the bedding from her face. When she resurfaced, her eyes were met with a sight she had not every considered dreaming about. That is, until now. She dragged the comforter up to her face, hiding her blushing cheeks. Glittering eyes rolled to the side as she tried to quell her emotionally unstable mind from the thought that kept bubbling up. All she had to do was crawl over there and reach up to his face, pull herself up into his lap; the rest would be a secret behind closed doors. Instead, he strip teased her from afar. She watched from the corner of her eye, knowing full well she shouldn’t. Thankfully - or was it despairingly? - he went behind his dressing curtain to slip into softer pants.

The thought of him kissing Ilaren was evoked something she had not felt since the Warrick Tournament. Jealousy was an ugly and little known friend to the woman. She had always been the desire of men, the cause for jealousy in women. Never before had something she wanted been so far out of reach. “Maybe you should learn to control your liquor better Andras. You may be good looking, but your vanity would scare even Ilaren away,” Zvezdana offered, with a hint of venom in her voice. It was somewhat comforting that he had a trait that was unfavorable to most beautiful women. That meant she would be able to keep him to herself. Her thoughts clouded her judgement enough that she had turned away to pout. When she looked back in the direction he was supposed to be, she came to realize that she was practically face to face with the hem of his pants, if not a touch lower. Her jaw dropped and the comforter fell from her grasp.

His bruises, cuts, and scars drew for a desire to pull him close to her so that she might caress his injuries in ways that a lover might do as a way of showing anxiety and worry. How had he let his body get marred in such a way? He fell forward towards her, her heart skipping and jumping with each moment as he came closer. She fell backwards with him, her hand gliding up to his belly to catch him as he fell. In his drunken stupor, he cleverly rolled away from her before squashing her beneath him. She laid there on the makeshift bed, chest heaving and heart thumping. A deep sound similar to thunder roared through her ears, hinting at the blood that rushed through her vessels.

She lay there, clothed in a thing nightgown with her full-blooded brother next to her half naked. No matter how much they wanted to believe that this would be just like when they were kids, she could not. Zvezdana had changed so much since then, physically and emotionally. She was not a kid anymore, and neither was he. She was a woman with needs and desires, and he was a man capable of fulfilling them. She rotated her head to look at Andráska, completely vulnerable in his state. The beast within her desired flesh and blood in the form of a meal. She desired it in an entirely different way.

He pulled her close to him, speaking of love. Did he mean it how it sounded? Zvezdana secretly wished she was drunk at that very moment, just to get her mind to cease and desist its incessant evaluation of the situation. Gently, she pressed her hands against his chest, rubbing his skin lightly with her thumbs. Her husband was not long dead and here she was in the arms of another man. Her own brother. He whispered to her goodnight and then he leaned over as if to cuddle her like a teddy bear.

Instead he kissed her.

Wide-eyed Zvezdana stared at her now sleeping brother. Did he…? Yes, he had. Vezdana’s skin burned and tingled with new found desire. It had been fleeting, but the kiss was more than enough to stir within her feelings that should never have been planted. It was too late now. She wanted Andráska. That in itself put him in danger. His snores gave her little comfort. He had been drunk, so maybe he would forget all of this. Quietly she extricated herself from his arms, slipping out from beneath the blankets.

On light feet, she crossed to his desk to scribble a note. Once written, she took another moment to scribble another note to Alistair. This took her less time, but she felt it necessary. That man needed to know how much she hated him. Both bits of paper were left on the barren bed. Moving towards the door, she looked back at Andráska’s sleeping form beneath the blankets. He looked like a fallen angel, captured by man and doomed to sleep beneath the heavens where he belonged.

“Goodnight Andras.”

► Show Spoiler

Alistair,

I'm not dead yet. I will find you and I will have my revenge.

Zvezdana

Andráska,

I will forever grieve that you will find this small parchment left behind in my stead to explain my leaving. Vivian Warrick, my loyal friend, and I will be gone before you awake. As rebels, we are obligated to go into hiding as we will be hunted for our crimes against the throne. I must seek refuge not only as a rebel, but as the mother to Veljorn's son. I would have told you last night, but there was already too much emotional turmoil in the room. You will be an amazing uncle one day.

Stay safe András. I cannot bury another person I love so soon.

With all my love,
Zvezdana

[Siren]

Name: Zvezdana Venora

Knowledge:
Location: Rynmere: Venora
Location: Rynmere: Venora: Sabaissant
Qe’dreki: Fleeing to Jorrick’s Keep
Stealth: Getting up quietly
Andráska: Missed you
Andráska: Soldier
Andráska: Creative
Andráska: Promises you justice
Andráska: Promises you peace of mind
Andráska: Can protect your future
Andráska: Promises you will always have a place with him
Andráska: Loves you
Andráska: Sees you
Andráska: Wants to kill your father
Andráska: Was a rebel before you
Andráska: Says father has wanted him gone
Andráska: Physically attracted to you?

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Fame: N/A

Story: 5
Collaboration: 5
Structure: 5

Name: Andráska Venora

Knowledge:
Location: Rynmere: Venora
Location: Rynmere: Venora: Sabaissant
Detection: Sensing sorrow or desperation in someone’s voice
Elyna: Killed Zvezdana’s husband
Elyna: Kingslayer to Zvezdana
Zvezdana: Loved her husband
Alistair: Assaulted Zvezdana
Father: Assaulted Zvezdana
Alistair: Beneath the helm of Ser Verne Andaris
Alistair: Would have been Baron of Venora
Zvezdana: Wanted to be loved and seen
Zvezdana: Beautiful, graceful
Zvezdana: Veljorn had been her salvation
Zvezdana: Didn’t want you to know about her abuse
Zvezdana: Wanted to protect you
Zvezdana: Doesn’t want you to kill father
Zvezdana: Loves you
Zvezdana: Physically attracted to you?

Loot: Two letters
Injuries: N/A
Fame: N/A

Story: 5
Collaboration: 5
Structure: 5

Comment:
Well that wasn’t exactly where I thought it was heading! Got a little intense there at the end! I do love their undying love for each other and the closeness of their relationship, even if it is sorta creepy. Great collaboration. Learned a lot about the Venoran family and both of them. Structure looked fine, though I might advise there were errors a proof should pick up, like had instead of has, small things like that.

If you feel that I've missed anything or have any questions or comments, please PM me!