Post by ~echo~ on Jul 30, 2014 22:34:06 GMT -5
Wren had always had it easy when she was younger. Her father was busy but very affectionate and giving and she lived in a beautiful house in Dorne. She had beautiful clothes and was sent to a boarding school for rich girls like herself to learn how to care for a household. She had everything she would ever want. But good things, unfortunately, never last long.
When Wren was nine years old, still living at the boarding school for girls, news arrived that her father had been killed by desert bandits. It was also discovered that he had been drowning in debt and was less than penniless. Wren was devastated. Her father had been her whole world and now he was gone! With her head hung, she gave up her position at the girls' school and moved back to Dorne. She was placed in the employment of a wicked old hag named Madame Andrea who treated her servants poorly if they didn't do things right. Wren worked to settle her father's debt, for her own survival. It was at least better than being out on the street where it was unpredictable and unsafe. So Wren suffered beautifully for eight years, until right before her eighteenth birthday.
--
A small, petite figure rose from the last bed in the row of cots, stretching and yawning. It couldn't have been later than five o clock. The figure stood and dressed in a drab, brown dress and pulled her beautiful, brown hair into a bun. She washed her face and then headed to the kitchen. So went every morning for eight years for Wren, and, it seemed, so would every morning for the rest of Madame Andrea's life. Then, perhaps, she could be free... Tomorrow was her birthday, a day that would have been celebrated for a lot of children. But for Wren, it didn't really cross her mind.
She served the old hag her copious breakfast and went about her duties, brown silken hairs falling into her face occasionally. At about eleven in the morning, Madame Andrea base her to go ino the market to restock their provisions. Wren obeyed, pulling a shawl over her head and stepping out into the boiling heat.
Wren stepped on something hard. Stooping to retrieve it, she discovered that it was a gold coin. What luck, thought she, and she spent it on a small honey cake to celebrate her birthday, once again, alone. "I wish... I wish to be free of this burden. Anything, I could be captured and slain by a desert tribe and prefer that to this life," she whispered to herself, leaning in the shade of a building. She heard a few loud voices coming her way and drew backwards into the darker shadows to observe.
When Wren was nine years old, still living at the boarding school for girls, news arrived that her father had been killed by desert bandits. It was also discovered that he had been drowning in debt and was less than penniless. Wren was devastated. Her father had been her whole world and now he was gone! With her head hung, she gave up her position at the girls' school and moved back to Dorne. She was placed in the employment of a wicked old hag named Madame Andrea who treated her servants poorly if they didn't do things right. Wren worked to settle her father's debt, for her own survival. It was at least better than being out on the street where it was unpredictable and unsafe. So Wren suffered beautifully for eight years, until right before her eighteenth birthday.
--
A small, petite figure rose from the last bed in the row of cots, stretching and yawning. It couldn't have been later than five o clock. The figure stood and dressed in a drab, brown dress and pulled her beautiful, brown hair into a bun. She washed her face and then headed to the kitchen. So went every morning for eight years for Wren, and, it seemed, so would every morning for the rest of Madame Andrea's life. Then, perhaps, she could be free... Tomorrow was her birthday, a day that would have been celebrated for a lot of children. But for Wren, it didn't really cross her mind.
She served the old hag her copious breakfast and went about her duties, brown silken hairs falling into her face occasionally. At about eleven in the morning, Madame Andrea base her to go ino the market to restock their provisions. Wren obeyed, pulling a shawl over her head and stepping out into the boiling heat.
Wren stepped on something hard. Stooping to retrieve it, she discovered that it was a gold coin. What luck, thought she, and she spent it on a small honey cake to celebrate her birthday, once again, alone. "I wish... I wish to be free of this burden. Anything, I could be captured and slain by a desert tribe and prefer that to this life," she whispered to herself, leaning in the shade of a building. She heard a few loud voices coming her way and drew backwards into the darker shadows to observe.
