he laid low the warriors of old
He had been drowning at one point—barely held together by the strings of life that kept him breathing. When he had lost his children, he could not bear to see himself around anyone. He could not even bother to be in the presence of his love, Porcia. Their entire world had been torn into two, pulled instantly apart the moment they had created a family. It had been a mistake in the end, just two parents who should have kept a closer watch on their children—but a mistake that cost them both more than anything.
Rome cannot help but blame himself, but he cannot allow himself to drown into the bitterness of shame and sadness. He must arise from the chaos the world has brought Porcia and him—he must do something. There is a fire now that burns within him, a passion to do something than lie idly around day after day. It scorches his mind, consuming his thoughts.
A purpose grows within him now.
The spotted stallion searches for the one person he never thought he would ever think of trying to find. He needed more than ever to find and speak to the young Khalessi. It was with her that his purpose was to be born—his intentions needed to be heard, to help be guided if he was to do anything now.
Rome searches the land of Nerine. By now he knows this land more than he ever thought possible, after all it had become his home. However, he had only been a resident here. There was no oath that held him here as it had with most of the other residents of Nerine. He did not sell his loyalty to anyone else except to Porcia and the family he had planned on creating with her. It was time for a change, and today would mark that.
He finds the bay Khalessi eventually within the more common areas of their home. Rome does not hold himself back from approaching her. When his mind is set onto something, he puts his whole self into it no matter the cost. It was today that he did so, not bothering to hide behind the normal conversations he has always allowed himself to dwell and fall into easily with others.
“Wishbone,” he pauses for a moment, “Khaleesi.” Rome corrects himself, the formalities of kingdom are not something Rome has always been attuned with but he is not absent-minded on the ways of a working kingdom. His own mother had held high positions and he grew up in the desert kingdom in another world long ago before Beqanna had been swallowed away. “My name is Rome. We must talk,” he moves straight to the point.
Rome cannot help but blame himself, but he cannot allow himself to drown into the bitterness of shame and sadness. He must arise from the chaos the world has brought Porcia and him—he must do something. There is a fire now that burns within him, a passion to do something than lie idly around day after day. It scorches his mind, consuming his thoughts.
A purpose grows within him now.
The spotted stallion searches for the one person he never thought he would ever think of trying to find. He needed more than ever to find and speak to the young Khalessi. It was with her that his purpose was to be born—his intentions needed to be heard, to help be guided if he was to do anything now.
Rome searches the land of Nerine. By now he knows this land more than he ever thought possible, after all it had become his home. However, he had only been a resident here. There was no oath that held him here as it had with most of the other residents of Nerine. He did not sell his loyalty to anyone else except to Porcia and the family he had planned on creating with her. It was time for a change, and today would mark that.
He finds the bay Khalessi eventually within the more common areas of their home. Rome does not hold himself back from approaching her. When his mind is set onto something, he puts his whole self into it no matter the cost. It was today that he did so, not bothering to hide behind the normal conversations he has always allowed himself to dwell and fall into easily with others.
“Wishbone,” he pauses for a moment, “Khaleesi.” Rome corrects himself, the formalities of kingdom are not something Rome has always been attuned with but he is not absent-minded on the ways of a working kingdom. His own mother had held high positions and he grew up in the desert kingdom in another world long ago before Beqanna had been swallowed away. “My name is Rome. We must talk,” he moves straight to the point.
ROME
tarnished x lucrezia
@[Wishbone]
I decided to get him involved
