Blood Begets Blood (1x1) [Currently Abandoned]

[Oh For The Love of Cod]

ωιℓℓσωмιηα яσтнεмвυяg
❅
ＷＩＮＴＥＲ ＷＯＬＶＥＳ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＤＩＥ

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tab Willowmina placed her hands on her lovely hips, ringed fingers tapping against the cobalt blue dress she wore. The color complimented her blonde waves, and the dress was uncovered this evening. She'd ditched her cloak for awhile. The information Oliver was delivering is what caused her fingers to tap; she couldn't place the wiry man's face anywhere. It didn't surprise her that he, or someone else, wanted her dead. She was a threat, and her presence made more than a few people uneasy. Could be an unknown rival, an old wartime enemy, or maybe even the king himself. After all, he was the original one who wanted her dead.

Willowmina pulled her mask off, dropping it on the chest of drawers. A hand raked through her thick locks, and her caramel eyes stared at Oliver in contemplation. She was looking at him, but she wasn't really seeing him. There was no fear in her expression, however. Actually, a bit of amusement played across her features.

"I'm surprised you're telling me this," she finally said. "I would have thought you, of all people, would jump at the opportunity to get rid of me. You never needed the lure of coin to attack me before, so with such a lure, and a handsome one, I assume, you should have every reason to strike me down," said the blonde. "But you'd rather warn me. How very peculiar. It makes me trust you less."

Willowmina leaned her elbows back on the drawers, eyes dancing over the familiar space. She could envision the people coming to visit her mother while she ducked around their legs and carried in stray cats.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the king himself is after my head," Willowmina admitted, eyes shifting back to Oliver. "After all...he's the one who murdered William and tried to murder me..." she said quietly, the memories still stinging. "I was half dead already from the battle, and you know it was frigid out there. He'd stripped me of my armor and drove his dagger into my middle. I was...I was a dead woman. I still don't know who saved my life and buried William. I wish I did...so I could thank them. But anyway," she transitioned, "I bet the king's spooked. It's no secret I'm alive. He probably feels threatened. I'm after him, oh, I am. I will slit his throat if it's the last thing I do. I wouldn't rule him out of being your employer's employer."

[Chive It Up]

Oliver watched her face closely as she mulled over what he'd said to her. All he could really see through that mask were her eyes and he was unable to read what she was thinking. Willowmina's thoughts were a mystery to most people, including him. The only thing he seemed to know was what to say to piss her off.

It was apparent that she found his revelation amusing, and even he had to admit it was absurd. Why would he bother warning her about an assassination when they were constantly at one another's throat? It wouldn't be the first time he'd bothered to protect her, even if he'd rather see her dead. It was true that Oliver hated the woman, but he respected her as a warrior as well. That was a sentiment that she didn't likely share.

Willowmina shared her story of how her brother had died and she had almost joined him, and he kept quiet out of respect. He knew how this story ended. He'd been there to know why the King had detained William and why Willowmina had fought so fiercely in battle, but it still made no sense to Oliver why the King had tried to kill the siblings. He imagined the King was fearful of anyone with that much determination, and he had a right to be. Unfortunately, he'd only made himself a target of Willowmina's rage by what he'd done.

“Well, if you ever find the man who saved you, tell me who he is, so I can punch him in the face.” Oliver said with a smirk. “I'm surprised that.. I've surprised you. I'll just assume you wouldn't offer me the same courtesy and would indeed simply stab me in the back.” How telling her the truth made him any less trustworthy was baffling. Then again, Willowmina didn't have to understand his motives in life, he did things of his own volition. The pair may have argued and fought, but it wasn't right for someone to be killed without having done anything worth dying over. Maybe he was just getting soft in his old age..

“If you'd made more effort in keeping who you are-” he motioned to her particular choice of dress, “hidden, he might not have figured out you were still alive.” Oliver rubbed his stubble covered chin in thought for a moment, “You know.. he did offer me double if I brought you in alive. Not that he paid me the last time I was promised a good sum of coin.” There was absolutely no reason to trust the King on his word. “If the King hired him, it might get you close. Or dead. I'd say equal chance of either one.”

[Oh For The Love of Cod]

ωιℓℓσωмιηα яσтнεмвυяg
❅
ＷＩＮＴＥＲ ＷＯＬＶＥＳ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＤＩＥ

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tab A snicker escaped The Winter Wolf at Oliver's comment about punching her savior in the face. She knew it was a joke, but she didn't doubt Oliver would do it. After all, whoever saved her life had seemingly brought her back from the dead. All Oliver seemed to want in the war was to kill her, to see her dead. She would have been dead if not for that mystery savior. Dying out there in the snow with her body draped over her brother's warmth would have saved Oliver a lot of trouble. She'd have been dead and gone a year by now, a thorn out of his side and a weight off his back. Surely, he'd love to sock a good one to the "idiot" who rescued Willowmina Rothemburg.

Willowmina took up her mask and played with it in her hands. She turned it over and upside down, almost in an examination. It was getting worn. The delicate paint was chipping off in places, bits of it were cracked or broken off, and the inside was stained. She'd always vigorously cleaned the thing with vinegar and water and soap, but...it was just marked forever with her blood, sweat, and tears. That mask was a testament to her pain, her struggles, her spirit, her family: everything she was and loved. It was an embodiment of her soul.

Placing the mask back down on the drawers, Willowmina slid behind the counter to the shelves of dusty apothecary jars. Her hands picked up a few, popped the corks off, and she recoiled with a pinched expression at how terribly the contents had withered or rotted. Nothing was salvageable. Just the jars themselves. If she took them home and washed them out, she could definitely use them for storage. Though, she figured some of them would be permanently stained, seeing as the contents had been liquid or mush.

"It's shocking sometimes to see how time works," she randomly noted, placing the jar in her hands back on the shelf. "Everything in these jars had once been usable medicines and ingredients. My mother was the apothecary. You might remember her better than I. I was so young when she died. My memories of her and this shop are clouded and...disappearing." Willowmina turned to lean her elbows on the counter beside of Oliver. "You're leagues older than I am," she lightly insulted with a smirk. "I'm positive you were a teenager when she died. Your memory would serve you better, if you ever came this way."

Willowmina hoisted herself onto the counter, though she faced the opposite direction. While Oliver had a view of the door, Willowmina had a view of the jars.

"You think so critically of me, but we're the same in that aspect. I think you're a piece of trash, but I wouldn't just kill you underhandedly. Like you, I would have declined the work. Even if I took it dishonestly, I would have told you," she admitted. "I don't know why. I think it might be because you're the only constant in my life. You're familiar and...close to me, even if it is hatred and rivalry that bind us. William's gone, mother's gone, and father is dying every day. He'll be in the grave before winter's done, I fear. Like Cholera, which took my mother, Tuberculosis is a cruel, cruel sickness. And it doesn't help that he's so elderly. He never was in good health..." she trailed off. "But, no, I wouldn't just stab you in the back. I don't think I could. As much as I would like to push you off a cliff," she teased with a quiet laugh, "I couldn't. The only way I'll ever kill you, and I will someday, is fair and square. You and me, weapons drawn, just like in the war. Until that day, you can enjoy your life."

Willowmina's brow creased as her thoughts shifted to the king. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles growing white.

"The king would want me alive," she revealed. "He would want me captured and brought to him. He's fond of torture. He'd probably try and sweet talk me into bed before throwing me under the guillotine. He's a sick b*****d. He'd want to play with me before killing me, like a cat." Her eyes drifted up to Oliver's face. "If you turned me over to your employer...I could get to the king. It's a suicide mission, most likely, but...I'd rather die tomorrow knowing I killed him than die in seventy years knowing he died in peace. I'm not afraid of death. I'll gladly embrace it if I can tear the king's throat open first. And nobody would miss me for very long. I'm leaving nothing important behind. Well...my father, but...but, this is for him too. He'd understand."

Hopping off the counter, Willowmina walked around it and grabbed her mask. She situated it on her face and held her arms out to Oliver.

"I'll be your willing prisoner. Take me to your employer."

[Chive It Up]

Oliver laughed in response to her jab about his age. He was older than her, of course, but he wasn't sure he was too much older. He'd never bothered to question her exact age, but he knew she was younger than William and old enough to kill or sleep with a man. Wasn't that enough information? If memory served him correct, he was a few years shy of thirty years himself, but he couldn't recall ever having been in this apothecary. When he was younger, he spent most of his time thieving in the markets. If he'd been in the shop, it hadn't been frequently enough to remember.

Turning his head, he watched her as she spoke of her hatred for him, glad to hear they were on the same page about how they felt about one another. Some form of mutual respect and hatred. One day she'd kill him, no doubt, he'd likely get too old to fight sooner rather than later, but it was comforting to know he'd be able to defend himself when she did it. Unless, of course, the King killed her.

As Willowmina offered up her arms in surrender to him, he smirked at her, “It's that simple, is it?” he wondered. He had nothing to bind her with, unless she kept rope in this shop, but he wasn't about to search for it. “I can give you some time first, if you want. If, perhaps, you'd want to share a pint and a bed with me?” Oliver chuckled quietly at the thought, “Even when it could be your last night alive, you'd still deny me?”

[Oh For The Love of Cod]

ωιℓℓσωмιηα яσтнεмвυяg
❅
ＷＩＮＴＥＲ ＷＯＬＶＥＳ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＤＩＥ

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tab Willowmina dropped her arms, pushing her mask up on top of her head. Perhaps some time would be good. It was quite likely this would be her last night alive, and she wanted to tell her father of her plan. The last thing she wanted to do was leave him to wonder what happened to her if she never came to him again. It hurt to think of leaving him alone, helpless and dying, but this was her only chance to seek justice for what had been done to them. There was always her father's neighbor, Mrs. Crawley, who could look in on him once a day. Lord knew it wouldn't be for long. Ben was going to be in a grave by February; his illness had engulfed him entirely.

Willowmina chuckled at Oliver's question and patted his thigh with a wink.

"Always," she replied, pulling her mask down and turning away.

Willowmina moved to the door and put her hand on the knob. Her grip was tight. For a moment, she just stood there, mind flooding with memories and thoughts and decisions. Tonight really could be her last night on this earth. If she killed the tyrant, her death would be welcomed. But she was also The Winter Wolf, and killing her was never successful.

"Don't be so sure tonight's the last you'll ever see of me. I've still got to kill you," she said, pulling the door open. "I'll be at the tavern later tonight. I'll take you up on that pint." And with that, she was gone.

[Chive It Up]

Oliver couldn't possibly imagine what Willowmina was thinking of. She was going to willingly offer herself up to the King in exchange for the slight change of killing the man. And he was going to be the one to take her there. If she revealed it had all been a ruse, would the King come after him next? It was likely, he imagined, but if Willowmina wasn't able to finish the tyrant off, Oliver would likely do it for her. If, of course, he lived to try.

Willowmina, despite what she insisted upon, still had things to live for. Her father may have been deathly ill, but he was still alive. He would still want her to persist, even if she didn't care for her own life. Oliver wasn't sure what he'd do if he knew tonight was going to be his last. Likely nothing different. If he had any family alive, he had know idea who or where they were. If he had any children, he'd never met them. There were no final arrangements to be made or goodbyes to be said. Sure, he had a handful of friends that he joked around with at the Tavern, but none that would truly miss him if he died.

When she insisted that even tonight, her last night on this Earth, she would still deny him, he couldn't help but to smirk. Of course she would. “I'll be waiting,” he informed her as she disappeared from the old apothecary shop. After Willowmina had left him, he took a bit of time to explore the old shop. Truthfully, he found nothing of use.. some old dried up jars of garbage. There were a few herbs that were mostly intact, and he examined the labels.. wondering if anything was worth taking or smoking. In the end, he left empty handed.

The rest of the night, he spent at the Tavern. Oliver knew he should have likely stayed sober, but he had quite a bit of coin on him that had to be spent. He'd made his way to a back corner table, nursing a large mug of ale and picking a half of a baked chicken clean. It was quite possible that when he turned Willowmina over, he wouldn't get his payment.. or the King would want something more from him. While he hated to think it was a possibility, it could very will be Oliver's last night alive too.

[Oh For The Love of Cod]

ωιℓℓσωмιηα яσтнεмвυяg
❅
ＷＩＮＴＥＲ ＷＯＬＶＥＳ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＤＩＥ

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tab Willowmina hadn't cried a single tear since the day she laid upon William's corpse, but a few, rogue droplets fell from her caramel eyes as she was leaving her father's house. He'd begged her not to throw her life away, but she had insisted she wasn't. If her life ended tonight, it would not be in vain. She swore she'd kill the king before she breathed her final breath. Ben could only shake his weak head and make sounds of mourning. He was convinced he was losing his last child, his daughter, his little girl. Willowmina did her best to remind him she wasn't easily killed, that she would fight to survive every minute and return to him. He was set in his thoughts, however. For him, everyone was dead.

Mrs. Crawley agreed to look in on Ben if anything were to happen to Willowmina. The blonde hadn't specified what she was doing or where she was going to the old woman, and the old woman didn't ask. Mrs. Crawley knew her neighbor's daughter was a character you didn't mess with, and she did what Willowmina asked without protest.

After settling her affairs and drying her stray tears, Willowmina made her way to the tavern in the torch lit night. She descended the stairs in the alleyway for what might be the last time. The old wooden door creaked open, and the greetings of her "fans" rang out. That might be the last time she ever heard such raucous praise. Her boots clicked against the planks of the floor, path chosen. She'd spotted Oliver at the back corner table and strode silently over. Everyone watched as she took a seat beside of her enemy, threw her hood off her head, and removed her weathering mask. Men whispered, but Willowmina had no ears for them tonight. She'd given her word for a pint, and she'd give Oliver that respect.

The wiry, hare-like man from the night before brought Willowmina her tankard with the same lovestruck smile as before. Willowmina gave her faint quirk and nod, turning her attention to the bone picking mercenary at her side. She still hated him, still wanted to shed his blood, but her life was too short now to be nursing animosity. He'd always been around, always given her reason to smile in some way, and always given her a damn fun time. War enemies could sometimes make the best memories in one's life. Oh, but she didn't have time to be sentimental.

"Slow down, Ollie," Willowmina finally said. "I can't have you choking on a chicken bone. That sort of death would not suit you."

[Chive It Up]

It was possible he might not have even known she was there, if the others in the Tavern hadn't hollered out to her when she entered. He did little more than raise his eyes to verify she was there, before he turned back to his meal. Willowmina came to sit next to him for a pint, and he let out a sigh when she spoke. Oliver finished chewing and washed his food down with a long drink before he turned to her with a smirk, “You wouldn't be so lucky, girl. You're still going to have to kill me the old fashioned way.” Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he leaned back in his seat, watching her. “Honestly, though, that sort of death does sound like how I would go. All this fighting and bickering and near-death.. and I die while filling my stomach.”

He wanted to ask if she was ready, but he had to assume that since she was here, she was. Oliver had this nagging voice in the back of his head that told him this was a very bad idea. The King always won, no matter the odds. He had enough men at his disposal to make their lives living hell. If she'd asked him, Oliver would have assisted her more in her plot to kill the King, but she wouldn't ask. She wanted to do this alone, and he didn't blame her. Oliver was just going to get her in there. Unless, of course, all of this assumption was wrong, and his employer was just some stupid man with more coin than sense. In which case, he'd let her kill him and all this planning and worrying was useless.

Turning his attention back to his meal, he took a bite, contemplating his situation as he chewed, “I paid for a room, in case you've changed your mind.” It was a joke, sort of, but his tone really didn't indicate as much.

[Oh For The Love of Cod]

ωιℓℓσωмιηα яσтнεмвυяg
❅
ＷＩＮＴＥＲ ＷＯＬＶＥＳ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＤＩＥ

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tab Willowmina laughed lowly into her tankard as she poised it for a drink. She had to hold it steady for a trice until she finished laughing before the rim touched her mouth. The ale, which might be her last taste, warmed her as always. The taste was as good and strong as she'd liked it for years. A good beverage to have if it were to be her last. She swallowed down a good portion of the alcohol, sighing as she set the tankard down heavily. Her caramel eyes stared into the liquid, tongue wetting her lips. It really felt like this was her last night, but there was always the possibility she'd live.

"Money wasted," Willowmina remarked, turning her eyes onto Oliver. "You're daft," she insulted. "I told you a million times you'd never touch me, and that's not gonna change just because I might be gone tomorrow. Ha!" she barked, brows raising in amusement. "Can you really imagine it, Ollie? Tomorrow, I might be dead! Wow, I tell ya..." she trailed off with a vocal sigh. "Wonder if anyone'll miss me. Wonder what'll be like when I'm no longer breathing. Will anyone feel my absence? Will anything...seem different without me?" she questioned. "I know when William died, I felt like nothing was right for a long time. He was missing, and nothing seemed correct. It was very odd, that feeling of...losing something permanently. Especially a person. You'll no longer hear their voice or feel their touch, see them walking around or..." she just trailed off, shaking her head. "There'll be an empty seat until someone else fills it."

Willowmina didn't think Oliver would care much that she was gone. He'd likely be glad of it. But all these other men who were so used to her presence; would they feel like something was off kilter? Would there be a palpable absence of something? Willowmina wondered, she just wondered, how her death would feel to everyone else. Perhaps it would seem surreal, seeing as winter wolves never seem to die.

[Chive It Up]

Money wasted? Hardly. Entertaining the idea was well worth the money. Besides, if this thing went the way Oliver was beginning to think it would, the money wasn't going to do him any good. As Willowmina went on to describe how strange it might be for others once she was dead, he began to honestly contemplate such a thing. It would be odd. As much as he despised Willowmina, she was the only thing that remained in his life throughout the weeks. She was the only excitement he had. Oliver would likely be taking on more and more jobs to fill that Willowmina-shaped void in his life. Then again, it was entirely possible he'd be relieved at her death.

“Oh, I can really imagine it. It's nice and quiet and I can enjoy my drink in peace,” he joked raising his glass and downing a big gulp of it with a wide grin on his face. When he lowered it, he leaned towards her a bit, the smell of alcohol was strong, a testament to how much he'd had tonight. Even still, he wasn't drunk. It took a lot for Oliver to begin to feel his liquor. “You know what I think? I think you're scared. Not of the King, but of me. I think you're scared to let this whole.. tough, stoic.. facade go. That if you actually had to submit yourself and expose who you are under that mask, to see who you actually are...” he trailed off, still smiling widely, “But I think you're mostly afraid that you'd enjoy yourself.”

[Oh For The Love of Cod]

ωιℓℓσωмιηα яσтнεмвυяg
❅
ＷＩＮＴＥＲ ＷＯＬＶＥＳ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＤＩＥ

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tab Willowmina's brows rose up, a scoff escaping her lips. She just stared at the familiar face leaning nearer to her in silence. Oliver really was very persistent, and he knew how to rile her up. He was insulting her, testing her, trying to wheedle his way beneath her dress. If anyone knew how to make her accept a challenge or contradict something, it was Oliver. He was telling her she was being fake, telling her she was scared. Well, she was certainly not scared! And she certainly was not putting up any facades! What you see is what you get with Willowmina Rothemburg! Hmph! Good thing she was smarter than him and wouldn't fall for his trap.

Willowmina regained herself and placed her hand over Oliver's face, shoving him away.

"You reek," she commented, dropping her hand back to the table. "and you're an idiot if you think I'm going to fall for that. Everything you see is what I am, and you know this. The "real" me is right here, and she's visible all the time. And me...scared of you?" Willowmina barked a laugh. "What a thought! No, Ollie, I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of enjoying myself. I'm actually just not interested in having your filthy body all over me. I mean, you can't blame a woman for rejecting a dirty manwhore," Willowmina said, hand to her chest. "No, you'd be quite dissatisfying, I can assure you."

Willowmina took up her tankard and took a great swig.

"In actuality, I think you couldn't handle me," she muttered, eyes roaming over the tavern nonchalantly.

[Chive It Up]

As Willowmina shoved her hand in his face and pushed him away, he let out a hearty laugh. No, he didn't think she would consent to what he'd said, but it was worth a try. At least, in his opinion. She wasn't going to kill him tonight, not when he proved to be the only way to get close to the King. At least, that was what he was banking on.

“Filthy?” he asked in mock seriousness, “If you don't want me on top of you, I don't mind letting you do the work. I figured you like to be in control anyway.” Oliver picked up his mug, swirling the liquid around for a moment, “I think I could handle you, and I'll gladly take you up on the challenge.” Quickly, he downed what remained from his mug and slammed it back onto the table. Pushing the plate of chicken away from him, he stood, “Let's go then. While I'm still in the mood.”

[Oh For The Love of Cod]

ωιℓℓσωмιηα яσтнεмвυяg
❅
ＷＩＮＴＥＲ ＷＯＬＶＥＳ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＤＩＥ

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tab Willowmina felt her cheeks grow warm just the faintest bit. He'd let her do the work. Sure, maybe she was the dominating type, but she certainly wasn't going to show that to Oliver. She wasn't going to show anything to Oliver except her fist in his face. Being embarrassed was never quite her thing, and she could usually roll everything off with a snide remark or a laugh, but this was just getting a little out of hand. He was so damn interested in having his way with her that she was seriously beginning to consider it just so he'd shut up and go away. But then that would be a victory on his part, and she wasn't the kind to give away a victory. Ugh.

Willowmina downed the rest of her ale and slammed the tankard down, standing a few moments after Oliver. He was so certain she was going to give into him. She was stupid to present that challenge. And now that she presented it, she almost had to do it, just to prove him wrong. If she backed out, it would be like saying, "You're right, you can handle me and I'm weak." Willowmina was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She didn't want to get laid by Oliver, and she certainly didn't want to give him the pleasure of laying him. There was nothing she could do. Why was she so damn competitive?

"I..." she started, jaw clenching, "I'm not going anywhere with you!" She pushed away from the table and grabbed her mask. "Even if I did all the work, I'd still be touching your filthy body, so your argument is invalid," she cleverly countered. "Ha! So there. All I am is a conquest to you, and I'm not about to give you that glory. I'm not really interested if you can handle me or not, so forget I even said that."

Willowmina spun on her heel and began strutting for the door with her nose in the air.

[Chive It Up]

For a very brief moment, Oliver felt like he might have been getting some headway on their years old argument when she stared at him, her face flush with color. The shouted at him some piss-poor argument about how she was right and he was wrong and filthy. Briefly, he looked down at himself, wondering if he was actually that filthy. Perhaps he wasn't as clean as Willowmina, but he wasn't filthy, was he? “I'll bathe first, then,” he insisted with a smirk.

As she stormed off, he started after her, catching up to her as she reached the door. “Oh, come on!” Oliver grabbed both of her arms and pulled her roughly to him, “You know me better than that, don't you?” He lowered his voice a bit, “I want you because you're a beautiful and strong woman. One who has always told me no. I've wanted you ever since I first saw you. This could be my last chance. Why do you have to be such a prude?”

[Oh For The Love of Cod]

ωιℓℓσωмιηα яσтнεмвυяg
❅
ＷＩＮＴＥＲ ＷＯＬＶＥＳ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＤＩＥ

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tab Willowmina gave an involuntary gasp as Oliver yanked her to him. Her body stiffened and she looked up at him with wide eyes. For once, she felt a little helpless. She'd never been so pressured before in her life. Men usually listened when she said no, and Oliver was one of those men. Now, he was being pesky and rough. To make things worse, they were still in the tavern, all eyes upon them with great interest. Her options were to either knee him in the groin and run, or just give in. As much as she wanted to do the former, she had a feeling it would only make him angry. Then he'd likely chase after her and force himself upon her. Then she'd have to kill him. Killing him was out of the question, seeing as he was her only link to the king. Dammit!

Willowmina's eyes narrowed, but she relaxed. Fine. She'd let him have her. Only because she couldn't kill him. She would do this to ensure her own mission would be kept according to plan. Sometimes there were sacrifices that just had to be made. This was one of them. In order to avenge her fallen brother, get justice for the king's evil deeds, she had to sleep with Oliver. Wow. How had this happened? That had never been in her plans. But if she gave Oliver what he wanted, he would leave her alone and get her into the castle.

"Fine," Willowmina finally replied, eyes angry. "Do what you want. But remember, I'm only doing this for my own reasons. I would kill you right here if I didn't need you. Your behavior is damn unacceptable," she growled, yanking away from him. "b*****d. I'll kill you if I live through tomorrow. I will kill you for this," she threatened seriously.

Willowmina turned away and put her mask on her face.

"Forget your filthy room. We're going to my house...where it's clean," she commanded, walking out the door.