mousaey

[mousaey]

ofblackwinds‌:

         “you certainly have the tongue of a fancy knight.” asha laughed, amused by the novelty of his carefully picked words, his rounded accent and the sheer difference of knightly ways to those of the ironborn. “but your sentiment is appreciated.” she nodded in acknowledgement and downed a hefty portion of what was in her cup. 

        the longer she stayed at dragonstone, the more she heard of the man who shadrich had previously told her he was employed by. he sounded quite the slimy little eel, but a rich one at that. “a small mercy for you.” her curiosity was piqued. “what is it you do for lord littlefinger? i have seen sellswords, but they don’t look like you, mouse knight.” 

        her own loved ones, those she truly treasured - her mother, her salt wife, her uncles victarion and rodrik - and relief at their absence overtook her desire to see them all again. she sighed, and leaned back on the legs on her chair, surprised at how genuinely glad she was to hear this man’s loved ones were safe. were these mainlanders making her soft? “shady glen sounds exactly the sort of place i’d rather be.” a black brow arched upwards. “is it as idyllic as it sounds?”

        a   childhood   spent   far   from   home,      in   places   that   forced   a   young   merchant’s   son   to   play   at   being   a   little   lordling   —   or   at   least   something   that   looked   like   one,   had   made   shadrich   sound   like   the      fancy   knight      she   accused   him   of   being.   of   course,   there   was   also   his   title,   earned   for   valor   while   serving   the   king   stannis   baratheon,   but   shadrich   did   not   quite   see   himself   as   such,   at   least   not   anymore.   ser   shadrich   only   when   such   a   name   suited   him,   he   was   more   the   mad   mouse   now   than   he   had   ever   been.   perhaps,   one   day,   he   would   be   more   of   a   knight   again,   but   that   time   wasn’t   now.

        ���   protection,   mostly.      insurance.      he’s   got   a   few   swords   in   his   service.   ’   asha   would   probably   still   stand   by   her   sentiment   if   she   saw   the   two   other   hedge   knights   that   littlefinger   had   employed  :   byron   the   beautiful   and   morgarth   the   merry,   one   the   pretty   knight   of   many   ladies’   dreams   and   the   other   a   bury   man   who   was   physically   everything   shadrich   wasn’t.   yet,   the   mouse   was   confident   in   what   he   was.   ‘   i   sound   like   a   knight,   but   i   look   like   ?   ’   he   asks,   giving   her   a   curious   smile.

        ‘   i   think   it   is,   ’   shadrich   replies,   taking   another   drink   before   continuing.   ‘   i   haven’t   lived   there   since   i   was   young,   and   i   don’t   go   back   frequently.   don’t   get   to.   my   sister   paints   a   pretty   picture   of   it   in   her   letters.   ’

[mousaey]

      point  breakdown ,       march  8th  to  march  22nd

replies   x   2 :     + 10 closed   starters   x   1 :    + 10

      previous   total :      65 ,      current   total :    20 ,       final   total :     85

[mousaey]

ofblackwinds·:

     there were very few problems in the world that asha believed could not be solved with alcohol - it was a tried and true greyjoy coping mechanism taught to asha by her older brothers perhaps a little to young not to raise a few eyebrows in most other kingdoms. it was to the tavern she retreated in the face of the attack, to drink away her shock and displeasure for being dragged along with the northerners.

      she was drunk enough that her words were slurring ever-so-slightly together, and the realities of the past few days had long left her radar. the drink placed in front of her made her smile, slow and shark-like. she wasn’t one to pay off her debts with any loyalty, but she appreciated the gesture. already this strange little mouse was burrowing his way into the small list of mainlanders who the lady reaper could tolerate. ale had that effect, it seemed.

      “aye, and you.” the carnage had spared them both, thank the drowned god. “your sympathy is misplaced - i lost my uncle, though i cannot pretend it was not a relief to be rid of him, the old zealous git.” she scowled into the tankard. aeron had so vehemently denied her his support, had been such a constant thorn in her side, and had turned so many of those godly enough to listen to his seawater-soaked rambling against her that it was almost a relief to see him gone. “the loss of loyal sailors sits heavier.” blood was not thicker than seawater. “are you drinking in grief tonight, krey? i should hope not - it will make you shit company.”

        neither   could   know   it   ,      but   shadrich   had   a   similar   relationship   with   and   introduction   to   drink;   an   older   boy,   also   in   service   to   a   knight,   had   stolen   a   bottle   of   wine   and   the   two   had   shared   it,   while   the   number   of   years   he   had   spent   on   the   earth   numbered   less   than   a   decade.   he   never   drank   heavily   as   a   child,   or   even   a   teenager,   but   he   was   very   aware   that   it   was   an   option.   his   own   turn   to   it   occurred   after   his   ransom   had   been   paid.   something   to   spend   the   little   coin   he   had   left   on   to   make   himself   feel   marginally   better.

        shadrich   nodded,   as   if   he   understood   her   anger   towards   her   own   family.   he   could   understand   the   loss   of   comrades,   but   that   too   was   more   complicated,   given   that   his   allegiance   had   shifted   over   recent   years.   those   he   fought   alongside   during   his   time   as   a   member   of   the   baratheon   forces   could   perhaps   bring   grief   if   they   were   lost,   but   it   would   be   tainted   with   the   resentment   he   felt   towards   their   cause.      ‘      well,   then   i   redirect   my   sentiment   to   those   who   deserve   it.      ’

        ‘      more   in   relief   and   thanks   :      i   have   survived,   and   so   has   the   man   who   is   paying   me.      ’      it   might   be   a   crude   take,   given   the   mass   loss   of   life   they   had   both   witnessed,   but   shadrich’s   priorities   were   tailored   specifically   to   his   circumstances.      ‘      my   own   family   was   not   present,   and   with   all   grace   are   still   safe   in   shady   glen.      ’

[mousaey]

        another   tavern   .      perhaps   they   would   only   meet   in   drinking   establishments,   exiting   into   their   own   separate   worlds   when   they   left   the   false   darkness   and   returned   to   the   harsh   light   of   day.   the   mood   was   different   this   time,   however.   before   the   threat   they   all   faced   was   a   distant   one,   somewhere   beyond   the   wall,   beyond   the   edge   of   the   world   that   shadrich   could   conceivably �� realize   within   his   own   mind.   now   they   were   facing   shadows   that   had   reached   them   suddenly   and   without   warning.   over   the   past   few   years   shadrich   had   believed   that   the   enemy   he   would   face   during   his   lifetime   was   the   uncaring   nature   of   men   with   station,   but   a   new   enemy   greater   than   that   was   appearing.   he   wasn’t   sure   what   to   make   of   it.

        he   took   the   empty   seat   across   from   asha   a   placed   two   drinks   between   them.   spending   money   for   others   was   not   a   common   habit   for   the   knight,   but   this   was   a   place   cheap   enough   that   he   felt   he   could   repay   a   debt.   shadrich   was   careful   as   he   placed   them,   a   lightness   of   hand   that   maybe   wasn’t   expected   from   the   mad   mouse,   who   to   so   many   seemed   slightly   unhinged   at   times.   yet,   simply   assessing   him   as   such   would   be   an   oversimplification   of   anger   and   determination,   and   would   do   a   disservice   to   one   who   was   often   keenly   aware   of   what   was   going   on,   even   when   it   was   being   hidden   from   him.   still,   he   knew   nothing   of   what   this   new   chaos   was.   

         ‘      good   to   see   you’re   still   breathing,      ’      he   says,   before   taking   a   sip   of   his   ale.   it   was   a   harsh   greeting,   but   a   genuine   one.   she   had   been   kind   to   him   so   far.      ‘      my   sympathy   for   any   of   your   own   that   aren’t.      ’                  @ofblackwinds​

[mousaey]

  tag  drop,  v.     chapters  and  chronicles. 

[mousaey]

ofblackwinds·:

         asha would not pretend to know things of the mainland that she did not just on the account of politeness. “krey?” she shrugged. “never heard of them.” admittedly, she was distracted momentarily when the serving girl brought the next round of ale and asha’s liquor-soaked brain devoted all her attention to smiling at her and watching intently as she walked away. distractedly, she drew her eyeline back to the man she had engaged in conversation. “where’re you from, krey? and what brings you to this island?” 

           lannister, baratheon, tyrell, stark - she knew what they were all here for. to bicker and argue and seethe until some weak consensus was agreed upon and they could all go home. the less noble folk who had been drawn here, though, they fascinated her a little more. they were the ones who would die in their wars far before the queen regent, the king in the north, or her, for that matter, though she prided herself in never sending her men onto a battlefield she was not also willing to fight on. 

        ‘      only   merchants   ,      ’      there’s   a   slight   bitter   touch   to   his   words,   though   it   is   not   directed   at   her,   but   rather   that   the   state   of   the   world   where   names   held   so   much   power.   it   was   people   bigger   names   then   himself   that   had   resigned   him   to   his   current   fate,   even   when   he   was   so   close   to   escaping.      ‘      from   the   stormlands.   i’m   here   in   the   service   of   lord   baelish.      ’      he   knows   how   many   feel   about   his   current   master,   and   he   watches   for   her   reaction.   however,   his   concern   was   mostly   in   what   his   master   was   able   to   pay   him,   not   his   reputation.

[mousaey]

       point   break  .      march   1st   to   march   8th.

[mousaey]

@ofblackwinds​  :  ❛   how   many   people   have   you   killed   ?   ❜

       ‘   enough.   ’      he   said   it   with   perhaps   a   surprising   assuredness   for   the   mouse   who   did   not   feel   like   admitting   his   title   to   the   lady   reaper   only   the   night   before.   yet,   his   skill   with   a   sword   was   where   he   was   confident   despite   anything   else.   there’s   a   smile   that’s   poisoned   with   arrogance   on   his   features,   and   a   tinge   of   something   unhinged   as   well.      ‘      do   you   keep   track      ?      i   find   that’s   difficult   when   the   numbers   get   higher.      ’

[mousaey]

nowolfs·:

ruses     &     lies     had     long     since     ruled     the     winterfell     princess’     life     ,     augmented     only     during     trying     times     (     where     constant     lies     were     her     only     means     of     survival     )     .     NOW     ,     IT     SEEMED    THAT     THEY     ALL     GATHERED     HERE     TO     HAUNT     HER     .     there     was     no     shame     in     her     actions     ,     none     whatsoever     &     burn     her     for     it     if     you     must     .     this     beast     was     driven     by     stronger     emotions     then     guilt     ,     &     lies     ,     manipulations     &     deceptions     were     not     things     of     the     past     .

his     face     was     not     one     she     ultimately     worked     to     remember     .     not     as     much     as     the     one     he     had     served     :     he     could’ve     walked     her     by     !     perhaps     she     would’ve     given     him     a     side     glance     ,     familiarity     was     a     gift     …     but     she     would     not     have     pressed     .     not     if     he     had     continued     on     without     addressing     her     .     but     he     had     ,     assaulted     with     sharp     words     .     she     didn’t     have     to     look     too     high     ,     a     comfortable     change     from     all     the     pompous     lords     &     ladies     that     towered     over     the     general     .     a     propped     brow     demanded     answers     to     unspoken     questions     ,     &     all     whispered     at     the     same     time     while     she     scanned     the     boy     for     a     memory     .     ❝     boys     with     loose     tongues     don’t     last     very     long     around     here     .     do     i     know     you     ?     ❞

         unremembered   .      the   fact   that   he   is   forgotten   in   her   memories   brings   a   familiar   angry   warmth   to   the   knight’s   chest.   tongue   is   pressed   against   his   lower   teeth,   left   side   of   his   lip   twitching   upward   slightly.   palms   itch,   head   tilts.   she   appears   to   him   as   another   noble   who   cares   little   for   the   lives   she   touches.   the   mad   mouse   looks   at   her   directly,   a   question   in   his   eyes   if   she   was   sincere   in   her   obliviousness   or   just   cruel,   and   he   didn’t   believe   he   liked   either   answer.  

‘      well,   you   didn’t   manage   to   get   rid   of   me   last   time,   and   you’ll   find   i’m   difficult   to   dispose   of.      ’      chest   presses   against   his   armor,   filled   with   the   breath   he   holds   for   a   moment,   before   letting   it   escape   through   his   nose,   his   gaze   never   leaving   the   northern   princess.      ‘      you   attacked   my   lord,   weren’t   so   kind   to   me   either.   if   you   don’t   remember   i   must   assume   it   was   simply   a   pleasure   trip,   something   a   bored   and   wild   princess   does   for   entertainment.      ’

[mousaey]

ofblackwinds·:

           asha scoffed at the formalities and the young man’s fancy accent. for all that she was the lady paramount of an entire kingdom, the greyjoys had never fostered much value in elocution, manners or formalities - they were not skills a kraken needed to lead a people who placed merit on the strength of your axe-bow or how a your crew could be commanded to weather a storm. “i’m no lady. and your thanks is not needed.” she shrugged, tipping the rest of her drink down her throat and waving over the pretty barmaid with two more - one for her, one for her new drinking partner. “my reasons are selfish, i assure you. I merely have no desire to drink alone.” 

             she would not begrudge her crew their brawling and whoring, but found no pleasure in sinking ale alone. especially when she had no wish to brawl somewhere she was supposed to be showing diplomacy, or whoring on dragonstone away from her usual favourites. “asha greyjoy.” the lady captain answered simply, as though she were not infamous and a lady of a ruling house. it mattered not in a tavern that smelt of spilt beer, though she counted herself curious as to who she was speaking with. “and yours?”

          head   tilt   ,      curiosity   at   the   way   she   reacts   to   his   words.   it   was   shadrich’s   experience,   though   he   wouldn’t   admit   it   was   a   limited   one,   that   noble   women   held   strong   to   their   titles   and   that   others   were   flattered   to   be   mistaken   for   one.   his   worldview   was   much   smaller   than   he   realized.      ‘      well,   i’m   happy   to   offer   my   company   then.      ’      he   takes   a   drink   from   the   tankard   she   had   kicked   towards   him,   but   stops   when   he   hears   her   name.   limited   worldview,   yes,   but   he   was   aware   of   major   players      —      a   combination   of   his   rearing   and   the   fact   that   petyr   was   overly   connected.   he   nods   slowly,   the   curiosity   in   his   eyes   growing.

         ‘      shadrich   krey,      ’      he   answers   after   his   moment   of   pause.   the   name   would   likely   mean   nothing   to   her,   and   he   was   aware   of   that.   however   her   earlier   reaction   and   the   knowledge   of   who   she   was   had   convinced   him   to   keep   his   title   and   moniker   to   himself.   it   was   strange   for   him,   a   mouse   of   man   overly   proud   of   his   abilities,   but   the   desire   to   not   be   laughed   out   of   the   tavern   was   stronger.

[mousaey]

   previous total :     40

points  earned :

replies  x  2 :     + 10

points  spent :

none :     - 0

  current total :     50

[mousaey]

        petyr   often   kept   him   late   .      he   didn’t   like   it,   but   he   was   used   to   it   by   now.   little   finger   was   fond   of   discrete   meetings,   which   often   meant   strange   hours,   and   keeping   the   mouse   nearby      (      in   case   something   were   to   go   wrong      )      was   necessary.   for   him,   the   summit   lasted   longer   than   the   official   hours,   and   after   a   day   on   his   feet,   a   drink   was   more   than   required.   small   figure   takes   space   at   the   mostly   empty   table,   taking   a   moment   to   look   at   the   woman   who   occupied   the   other   half.   surprise   painted   his   face   when   she   kicked   the   tankard   in   his   direction.   quick   reflexes   allowed   him   to   catch   it   before   it   teeters   over   the   edge,   and   he   gives   a   nod   in   thanks.

        ‘      i   need   a   first,   if   we’re   being   honest,      ’      he   answers,   bringing   it   to   his   lips   and   gulping   down   quite   a   large   amount.   the   tankard   is   returned   to   the   table,   and   his   mouth   cleaned   using   the   back   of   his   hand.   then,   he   returns   his   focus   to   the   other   ;      anyone   who   was   giving   him   free   alcohol   was   a   friend   of   the   knight’s,   he   had   decided   that   long   ago.      ‘      thank   you   for   the   kindness,   my   lady,      ’      his   diction   is   above   his   station,   learned   from   the   knight   that   raised   him   for   more   years   than   his   own   father.      ‘      who   do   i   have   the   pleasure   of   sharing   a   drink   with      ?      ’

@mousaey​

         asha’s boots were resting on the table, and a large collection of empty tankards sat on its edge. she was recovering from a long, boorish day of sitting on councils with mainlanders who did not know her people’s ways, her people’s needs, and there was no better way to forget the grating sound of cersei lannister’s voice in her ears that with enough ale to sail a fleet on. the tavern was full, but the long table she sat at was empty enough for a stranger to take a seat at now that her crew had vacated the premises, presumably for a brothel or an alleyway brawl, if she knew them. and she did. 

           in an act of rare delicacy that only came to asha when the potential to spill alcohol had to be combated, she nudged a tankard of ale down the table towards the man sat there with her boot. “you look like you need another. get that down y’ throat.” she took a large gulp from her own drink and tipped her head to one side. 

[mousaey]

wolfmaid·:

𝒔𝒉𝒆  𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔  𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕  𝒉𝒊𝒔  𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆  𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔,     knows  that  behind  ser  mouse  there  is  always  a  daunting  little  finger  pulling  strings  and  waiting  to  make  his  next  move,     hedge  his  bets  and  take  advantage  of  poor  little  girls.       but,     his  is  a  welcome  face,     shadrich  had  been  a  friend,     as  much  as  one  could  be  in  a  place  like  king’s  landing.       so  she  smiles  wide,     pauses  her  mid - afternoon  walk  to  take  in  his  company  fully.       “   𝒂  𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆  𝒕𝒐  𝒔𝒆𝒆  𝒚𝒐𝒖  𝒂𝒔  𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍,     𝒔𝒆𝒓  𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒉.       would  you  like  to  join  me?       i  think  your  company  may  be  more  interesting  than  that  of  my  brother’s  guard.   ”       her  gaze  drifts  over  her  own  shoulder,     acknowledging  the  man  she  knows  has  been  tailing  her  since  the  moment  she  left  her  chambers.       “   they’re  all  quite  droll,       afraid  of  doing  the  wrong  thing  and  upsetting  their  king.   ”

        he   couldn’t   afford   true   morality   .      shadrich   cared   little   for   whether   his   employer   was   a   good   man   or   not,   nor   what   his   fealty   to   him   said   either.   while   he   was   becoming   more   stable   now,   he   is   still   beholden   to   the   need   for   coin.   his   loyalty   and   friendship   was   a   commodity   to   be   taken   by   the   highest   bidder,   and   at   the   moment   that   was   petyr   baelish.   yet,   it   was   no   secret   that   the   mouse’s   ears   were   open   to   any   at   the   summit   who   might   offer   him   a   heavier   purse.      ‘      i   would   be   honored,      ’      he   replies,   making   a   bit   of   a   show   of   his   agreement.   eyes   follow   where   hers   go,   noticing   the   northern   man   at   twenty   paces,   and   nods.   then,   loud   enough   so   he’s   sure   the   guard   will   hear,      ‘      but   upsetting   kings   is   quite   entertaining,   is   it   not      ?      ’

[mousaey]

musingmemes‌:

a historical / fantasy / period / medieval friendly character survey.

reblog and bold your muses preference.

roses / cherry blossoms / orchids / tulips

winter / summer / autumn / spring

thunderstorms / sunshine / snow 

indoors / outdoors

meat / fruit / sweets

extravagance / traditionalism / minimalism

god fearing / non god fearing

cats / dogs / horses / birds

sunrise / sunset

day time / night time

fire / earth / water / wind 

reading / writing

rising early / sleeping late 

wine / ale / neither

fur / silk / satin / lace 

rubies / pearls / sapphires 

horse back / walking / carriages 

love / power

having company / being alone 

lakes / rivers / oceans 

knife / sword / bow / poison 

gold / silver 

[mousaey]

    previous total :  0

points  earned :

task  x  1 : + 10

closed  starters  x  3 : + 30

    current total :    40

[mousaey]

        a   thin   scar   left   behind,     the   parting   gift   of   a   young   bandit   girl   on   the   road.   however,   shadrich   often   told   the   story   differently,   preferring   not   to   mention   that   a   presumably   untrained   wild   thing   had   bested   him.   an   attempt   to   keep   his   own   ego   intact;   a   mouse   of   a   man   who   had   grown   comfortable   with   the   words   others   slung   at   him   regarding   certain   features,   but   never   his   skill.   besides,   who   would   ever   believe   otherwise?   he   was   sure   that   there   were   be   no   one   for   the   young   girl   to   tell.   at   least,   he   had   been   sure   until   he   saw   her   again,   sitting   next   to   the   king   in   the   north.   a   short   inquiry   and   he   had   found   that   she   was   not   a   rogue   bandit,   but   another   noble   to   add   to   the   list   of   those   that   had   unneededly   embarrassed   him.   a   well   maintained   bitterness   rose   inside   him,   and   his   eyes   narrowed.   he   much   prefered   her   sister,   he   decided,   and   went   on   with   his   night.

         yet,   while   dragonstone   was   large,   it   was   not   endless.   it   was   later   in   the   same   night   that   the   knight   found   him   walking �� down   a   thin   corridor,   and   the   stark   princess   coming   in   the   opposite   direction.   the   tactful   thing   might   have   been   to   simply   continue,   even   nod   in   recognition,   but   shadrich   had   lost   all   wishes   to   conduct   himself   tactfully   in   the   bay   that   surrounded   this   very   castle   three   years   ago.     ‘     seems   like   you’ve   decided   to   stop   playing   bandit.   did   pretending   to   be   a   smallfolk   grow   boring,   princess   ?   ’                 @nowolfs​

[mousaey]

        shadrich   was   protective   of   his   horse,      whiskey   was   one   of   a   few   nice   things   he   had   afforded   himself   since   his   ransom   and   she   had   been   a   good   companion   —   a   tall   and   enduring   creature,   that   made   him   look   like   the   night   he   once   was.   the   whole   ordeal   at   dragonstone   had   given   him   the   need   to   retreat   to   open   air,   and   had   he   been   on   the   mainland   he   would   have   taken   to   her   and   found   himself   moving   quickly   through   open   space.   yet,   here   he   was,   back   at   the   site   of   his   downfall   with   all   those   who   had   ruined   him   in   attendance,   and   without   even   the   companionship   of   his   horse   to   rectify   things.   still,   being   outside   was   better   than   nothing,   at   least   for   a   short   while.   he   stood   at   the   top   of   the   stairs   when,   looking   down,   he   saw   what   he   thought   was   a   familiar   face.   he   hadn’t   seen   her   since   before   everything   had   begun   though,   so   he   could   be   incorrect.   still,   he   ventured   to   call   out   to   her.     ‘     alyra   mooton     ?     ’   

        when   he   descended   the   stairs,   it   became   clear   that   some   time   had   passed   for   the   two.   the   young   squire   and   the   lady   used   to   be   on   equal   footing,   despite   station,   but   now   the   knight   found   him   looking   up   to   make   eye   contact   with   the   advisor   to   the   northern   king.     ‘     aye,   it   is.   good   to   see   you.     ’                @magicksborn​