dearorphic

[dearorphic]

@sunlaid * odara karstark

[...] With her right arm no longer as nimble as the rest of her, she relied on staying in the shadows and spaces they wouldn't think to look; away from prying eyes and bloodthirsty spears. Gasp pulled from her when frame bumps into theirs, instinct prompting push to frame. " No, no, no — " Adrenaline and fear blur, and tears, unbidden, are palmed away until realization settles in. Her gratitude blooms and with both hands framing the liege's face, a breathless admission deflates all tension as she wraps her arms around their shoulders. " Odara. "

[dearorphic]

@insooth * adrienne arryn

[...] Paranoia was planted like a seed that wrought a heavy hand, an instinctual battle drive he's known since he first learned how to wield a sword. Tonight, the scent of violence mixed with the heady bloom of flowers made him sick, clambering inside for a moment's reprieve that was shattered like the sound of iron against iron, a different storm brewing inside. And he's called to act. For how long he'd been wandering was too long to have known, but tonight, here he stood. Ear perks, and he swings the brunt of his arm around in a pirouette - eyes widened at sight of tresses, of features ingrained into memory like prayer. Barely misses her as he adjusts, throwing his weight forward instead to direct the blow away to stumble into her. " Fuck fuck fuck " he curses at himself, doesn't stay on her for long when he scrambles up onto his knees beside her. Weapon discarded, his hands gentle on her as frenzied eyes survey the damage, " Stay with me… Gods, stay with me… Please. " quiet pleas, mind racing as her state is taken in with shock. He fears the worst.

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@wcrfcres * alaric mormont

[...] Haphazard stitches weren't enough to stop the bloom of crimson on the linen wrapped around her arm, but it did slow. It was all the reason needed to break from the safety of protectors to seek her brother ; she'd find Alaric Mormont instead. Lithe feet, and ruined silk made her agile enough to slip into shadows, watching him make short work of the guests with a ferocity, unhinged. This was different from the tourney, this was combat without rules and there was something in the lord Mormont's gaze which frightened her to come close; perhaps it was pride, or even envy that made her prompted her to do as her cousin might, or her brother would. Fingers grasped around a sconce grabbed from wall, lit and blazing strikes down on an intruder looking to blindside the lord Mormont. A hiss of pain is all that's heard as she grabs at her arm. Her own attack did little but stumble the guest ; she was too weak and hardly a threat.

[dearorphic]

open * 2/2

[...] Instinctual surrender to the blade's kiss stung deep, and the blood that chilled beneath her and into the stone below was only felt with eyes clenched shut; or was it the tears that she had felt, pooling silently amidst the terrors that haunted the halls? Dead, she was sure of it. Yet, as she crawled to the nearest nook, something whispered—not dead, dying. She knew her right arm was failing, but gods, she hated this. Violet eyes dare to finally look down, her mouth eliciting a strangled gasp smothered in her palms when a noise is heard from her left. Whatever is left of her survival instinct urges her further into the nook, scrambling for the nearest blunt object to wield - strength failing in her right arm. Laina behind the heavy velvet drapes, slides her weapon under her thigh, sinks against the wall and wonders, why her eyes wouldn't shut to play dead once more ? Fear and adrenaline blur and the doe-eyed Dayne acts before the other does and lunges, grabbing the arm of the other that she bites into.

[dearorphic]

@wcrfcres * alaric mormont

[...] The familiar ache of wounds reopened and new bruises formed when they were healing amidst the quiet in the gardens wasn't unfamiliar to Antony Arryn. Not for house Mormont, kin of snow and ruin that chilled to the bone and made pain its legacy in the snowstorms on an island that wrested the best of them both. Comparison to the youngest couldn't be denied when Antony unravelled into baser instincts, who was now calm since his run-in with Darion Goodbrother - with injury to show for it too - but ... there is still catharsis to be found in the violence. Antony showed no signs of stopping. His weapons reused from the fallen or grabbed from the walls; the gore and disaster of the night making him look just like the intruders. A disguise used to his advantage, clearing a few that had his youngest swarmed in with a berserker's fury; without grace, or tact.

" You would deprive me a brother ? " Selfishly said, and a reprimand for having caught him lacking in defense. " Don't ever let anyone cage you in. "

[dearorphic]

[...] Days of old harkened from blood and rage have made a mess of the bear; he has tasted mud and felt the splatter of the hunt dry on silk torn from the hits received, in his hair. Adrenaline spikes his breathing ragged, his vision blurry with sleep, with rain, with iron in blood calling to his own Northern soul; a berserker. Stumbling up from the gardens, on unsteady legs and a rake taken from the garden maze spiked into the body in front of him which Antony pushes his entire weight into, falling into the strike and into Darion's view from the rounded corner. Bruised fists knock across their jaw and drunk off the catharsis of rage, he doesn't register Darion as friendly. Just another target, one that Antony runs towards at full sprint.

" Come on ! "

         # 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 + seven replies

blood   marred   the   brute's   weapon   —   sword   left   behind,      loyal   companion   tasked   between   wife's   fingers   to   protect   their   children.      hallways   leading   to   goodbrother   quarters   remained   free   of   foes,      instead   littered   with   bodies   of   storm   soldiers   unlucky   to   have   thought   hound   and   family   prey.      red   hammer   lives   up   to   name,      not   an   inch   of   body   untouched   by   crimson,      and   war   trained   eyes   fall   upon   the   next   body   that   rounded   corner.      a   challenge,      if   company   turned   out   to   be   another   corpse   to   add   to   the   count.

[dearorphic]

Intimacy - [Thomas Blackshear]

[dearorphic]

but i am afraid the same cannot be said of you. * @ichorsveined

[...] "But is that truly so?" Laina quips, smile curling impish on features. "I suppose it depends on who’s doing the measuring." She tilts her head slightly, her violet eyes gleaming with amusement. "Are you afraid I might outshine you?" The playful challenge in her tone is unmistakable.

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i have no interest being used as a pawn in someone else’s game. * @ichorsveined

[...] " Honor your own convictions, and do not let others dictate your path. It is better to be a player in your own game than to be led by the whims of others. " He agrees, his gaze shifting to the liege at hand. " If you stand firm and remain true to yourself, you will find allies who respect you for it. I have yet to find a fault, " awkward praise rectified with a cough, as he didn't quite mean to ramble so, or presume to search for faults in the other.

[dearorphic]

we have not yet been introduced. * @steelfyre

[...] " After being away from the court so long, " a huff, as though the thought alone wearied. " It's all fresh faces to me. But, what of you? " Head tilts, and with a flick of his hand an attendant rushes forth to refresh both their drinks. " Perhaps I'd be so bold to ask if anything interesting occurred over a cold drink, my liege? "

[dearorphic]

everyone will still have questions. * @steelfyre

[...] " It's inevitable, " bejewelled fingers resting on goblet; quiet contemplation normal for both the winter sun and the ruling lord. " but they cannot undermine the truth of our actions or the strength of our bonds if it holds weight. " A pointed look, as though the discontent was as plain as day to the grumblings of bears, and even amongst his own children. Yet, Theon Stark was the first to be welcomed in by the old gods. A grim smile, favouritism as clear as day. " We owe it to ourselves and our family to uphold our honour, regardless of what others may think or say. They will have no choice but to agree, " a pause, " hopefully. "

[dearorphic]

it is her blessing we shall need if we are... * @sapphircd

[...] " Absolutely not. " She'd be the first to cut her cousin off from further explaining what she could and couldn't do without the permission of an heiress knowing her every move; predisposed tyrant without the same temperament of Dornish ferocity that Laina had always greatly admired, relents only a fraction, " she will worry, or worse, she will say no, or worse, she won't care at all. " The last bit mumbled, a flurry of hair tossed over her shoulder as she stalked off towards their destination. " Tell her if you want, cousin, I shall meet you at the stables. Or not. "

[dearorphic]

i told everyone this would happen. * @disrcpairs

[...] "  Some might even say you were counting on it. Ambition is a mirror, Liege Tully, and you and I have both inherited our stations through consequence. If it weren't for Amos, perhaps it would’ve been the Vale that witnessed the full extent of your ambition, hm? "

[dearorphic]

a person who knows what they want is most admirable. * @hamart1as

[...] Perhaps the only words of support to be uttered within these past few days, a grateful smile curls. Hand reaches out, clasping the shoulder of salt and iron;   " But it's the getting that often proves troublesome. "   He paused, his gaze thoughtful; a culmination of want, and desire calcified into the structure of the Vale's bear rusted in the southern air. A toothy grin, as he pulls the grey shield into a warm embrace, " It is good to see you ashore, Euron. "

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"we are not all guaranteed a fairytale ending." * @regalxpoise

[...] It was a strange friendship formed between the Vale's bear and the hatchling of Castamere when he all but considered himself cut off from any connection to his bane's kin; or perhaps, it had never brokered discussion. Still, he hums, " they tell us horror stories in the North only, my lady. Though, I had figured you wouldn't already be so disenchanted here in Castamere ? " Head tilts, prompting his inquiry gently. After all, the Targaryens were promised all their dreams achieved, weren't they?

[dearorphic]

the truth always comes out, one way or another. * @morewoe

[...] " My liege ! " An audible gasp and her mischief cuts mean as violet hues survey the finery clothed on the liege heir, " the very same can be said of the state of your dress. " Head tilts, and a finger is extended to a frayed thread coming undone; whether or not it was new or old, the faults of his clothes were subject to scrutiny under her gaze with the knowledge known. " I ... "  very quietly, " was that from last year's fashion, lord Amos? It's OK if it is, but perhaps a visit to the seamstress is needed. Oh, wait, " she trails off, faux pity, " shall I spare you the coin? "

[dearorphic]

[...] the ruling lord Jeor Mormonts and his first wife, Lady Alysanne Mormont nee Glover's children have all had something taken from one another. The eldest, their father's (presumed) favour, the middle, the abandonment of house and name, the youngest, @wcrfcres, two siblings and a mother.

Betrayal was always in their blood, they inherit it.