#☘ yeah we're happy ma we're having fun and have you left a seat for me? / conall blackbar

[briannabrackens]

who: @conallblackbar when and where: the niamh falls walk, roughly 3 miles from stone hedge's main keep. context: this was when cedric sent connie baby to the riverlands

the periodic spotlight of the sun and blue sky peeping through overcast grey clouds did little to defend against the natural elements of wind, light drizzle and the slight dip in temperature that came with the natural incline. "it's a good thing yer king sent you here though, ain't it? shows he be takin notice of you." and yet still, there was no better time for a ramble through the ancient surroundings of stone hedge than the current weather; cold enough to ensure some fresh air, but the walking ensured warmth.

"what do it mean to be an ambassador anyway? like, you need make sure our realms don't go to war?" was that even possible? she looked back at him, on the rock right behind her; her brows were furrowed at the prospect of their realms doing such a thing. "they'd not do such a thing...even if yer king ain't entirely accepted the queen."

beneath a checkered brown and green dress was a set of sturdy walking boots, the boots the servants used when ploughing the fields, and it were vital; lest they both find themselves slipping. since returning from kings landing, she had been desperate to go for walks such as this one again - following the path clover seemed to be laying out for them, she paid no mind to the squelch of her boots or the puddles she needed to step in.

"i don't get it, honestly. the men picked her, they crowned her. we did the whole thing, why is it the business of other kingdoms who the riverfolk want to lead us?" she asked, walking by some lavender in the backdrop as they continued to descend now. "it's not like the prince should have any crown upon his head. he's thick as pig shite."

they had both done this path before; so many a time. many of their closest friends and loved ones had, dotted distant figures moving from one rock to another - this time though, the second lord of house blackbar seemed to be her company. hardly peculiar, for it more often than not ended up being the two of them walking and talking slightly ahead or behind a larger group. "careful con, slippery rock there." she indicated, tapping the rock with the tip of her boot. "may be better to go round the one on the left."

she paused to take a breath, pushing back her hair. she should've plaited it to get it out her face, now it were knotty and tangled. she could hear the falls in the distance, and looked down at her mud covered boots.

[briannabrackens]

♣️

it was not long before they reached an old wooden gate, slick with rain and stubborn in its hinges and tinted green with the moss that had begun to grow over it. brianna tested it with a push, but it didn’t budge; she tested it again with slightly more strength, and yet still it did not budge, and so she let out a slight huff - it had been open on their way down. instead of bothering with it any further, she hitched herself up onto the damp wood, swinging one leg over and settling herself down on the top with a comfortable ease. she stayed there a while, hands smoothing the fabric of her tartan scarf as she pushed her damp dark tresses out of her wide doe-eyed gaze, blinking through the raindrops that clung to her lashes.

"nostalgia." she repeated after him, both of her hands on the damp wood that would no doubt soon rot with the ages. "sounds valyrian, that does. fancy. nostalgia."

her feet were beginning to ache from the endless walk through the moors and the weight of waterlogged boots, and she found she quite liked the vantage point up here, so she made no move to shift as she watched him begin to navigate his legs over the fence, trying not to grin too wide as she tried not to laugh. "aye connie blackbar, what do you mean by worse?" she scoffed theatrically, glancing down at conall with amusement, one hand stretched out to catch the rainfall. "this is what it’s meant to be, this is the riverlands. we don’t get to pick and choose only the sunshine and the fairies, con. the rain, the mud, the wind in yer face—it’s all part of it. you’ve got to love it all, otherwise, you don’t really love it at all, do you?" she gave a little huff, flicking her fingers to send droplets scattering. "and besides, who’s ever gotten sick from a little rain? walk it off and it'll be fine."

her attention flitted back to him, catching that brief flash of something in his expression—panic, anxiety, some momentary slip of thought he hadn’t meant to show. "and, being honest, i've had a grand time, getting muddy with you." she only realised why when she replayed her own words in her mind, recognising too late that it had almost sounded like she was going to tell him off. instead of calling attention to it, she let it pass, fiddling idly with the ribbon tied around her neck. "but it’s alright, y’know," she said, voice light but warm. "not thinking. or thinking, but thinking about somethin' other than your own life. i think about the past to avoid overthinking, but not my past. or i think about whose being annoying these days.better to focus on not tripping over yer own feet or falling overboard, eh? don’t want to be lost to the seas, do you?" she leaned forward, still settled comfortably on the wooden gate and gave his arm an affectionate pat before swinging her other leg over and finally dropping down onto the softer, grassy side of the field.

she cast another glance at conall, the rain still coming down in steady sheets around them. "anyway, we can come back here properly once you’ve finished all yer talking for the reach," she said, stretching her arms above her head before tucking her hands back into her pockets. "not too much talking about nostalgia, mind. don’t want you getting lost in all that, either." she purposefully put on a more formal voice when repeating the word he had confirmed for her, a finger tapping the top of her head playfully as though to indicate her outrageous intelligence.

she walked beside him again as they made their way past a few scattered sheep, their wool damp and thick from the rain. as she adjusted her scarf around her shoulders, she glanced sidelong at conall, grin curling slow at the edges. "so i don't know the lass, yeah? annoying, but she's pretty, i'll give her that. very pretty. she'll flirt with a horse if it neighed at her enough." her voice was laced with dry amusement, her boots squelching lightly with each step. "she got herself caught watching some people—gods know what she was at—an’ instead of just holding her hands up to it, she went and pretended to be me. to garrick cargyll, no less." she snorted, shaking her head.

"and the best part? he went along with it, let her think she had him fooled, ‘cause i’ve known him since the war. he knew the whole time, obviously." she was able to talk about such things casually now, as opposed to the time in her life where she found herself blooming under a certain lord's attention - that had all come and gone with the years and the seasons. "he's helped me out in a bit of a weird situation, so the timing was just perfect."

her laughter was almost singsong like and more to herself than anything, but there was something thoughtful in the way she held the story in her mouth, rolling it over like a stone between her teeth. "i’m waitin’ for the right moment to pull her leg over it. garrick's agreed to play along, let it drag a bit, let her squirm a little. she’s not my friend, so i don’t know why she’s usin’ my name to act a fool. she trying to tarnish it?" her tone was teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity beneath it, an undercurrent of something she hadn’t quite figured out yet. "when you see her, do you think you could greet her as brianna bracken too? cmon con, it'd be funny and you know it."

there was a chill that had nothing to do with the rain lashing at his skin, a vague sense of something he had no name for lingering in the quiet spaces between when conall spoke and when brianna did. the closest thing he cold equate it to was entering a room and knowing that those within it had ceased speaking about you only seconds before, that strange sort of vague unease. but it were a silly thought - there was none here but brianna and the sound of the falls.

brianna's voice broke through his thoughts, and he gave her a nod. this was supposed to be a simple walk, a way to shrug off some of their burdens for a few hours, but there was a heaviness he could not explain, his chest tight and shoulders beginning to ache with tension. perhaps it was simply his sodden clothes dragging him down, he thought. she let out a laugh that did not reach her eyes, and conall smiled, too. he did not wish her to see that something was tugging at him, particularly when he would not be able to voice it if she asked, but there was something in the way her voice faltered that had him wondering if she felt it, too.

it was confirmed in her words, the mention of the silent brooding they had fallen into. at that, conall laughed, and despite it all, it was genuine. "aye, something warm and something strong, i reckon." she was probably right. it was just the rain, casting a moody shadow that had stamped itself on to them, making it seem as though something was wrong when little was. the haze was enough to blur the edges of what was real around them, making the moors feel like a mythical place of song rather than something tangible. it almost made it seem as though brianna was in sharp focus, the only thing here that were truly tangible.

and you -

the smile slid from conall's face as he looked at her, eyes snapping to hers with a sharpness born of panic. her words were simple, but it was enough to stir a sense of dread in him, a fear born from the worry that she would say he had in fact changed. it was not that conall didn't know it. he was not the man he was, the happier, more carefree version of himself from years gone by. he saw it in the way ronan and omer spoke to him, in the look in caitria's eyes when he rose too late for breakfast with a pounding headache and bloodshot eyes, but something about brianna, with whom he always felt most himself, seeing it too had his pulse quickening. don't say it, he willed her, silently. don't tell me what i already know.

he cast his gaze downwards, bracing himself for the confirmation that she no longer looked at him and saw conall, but instead the ghosts that shrouded him. the worst part was, he could not deny it himself. there were no words he could offer her that he had not changed that would not be a lie, and he would not lie to her. but she didn't say it, that thing she could not bear to hear, and in the silence that stretched, he dared to peek at her again. what he saw in her expression was not pity, nor disappointment, nor the frustration that had become familiar in his own reflection in the looking glass, but something else entirely.

well, so are you con.

conall let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding in, the wind carrying it away from him. the relief was immediate, though he should have expected it. if there was any who could look upon him, and see him, as she always had, not a man shaped by grief and rumour, it was brianna. there was nothing he could say in return to it. how could he explain that he didn't feel the same anymore, after all that had happened to him? but then, maybe that simply didn't matter to her. he hoped it didn't matter to her.

"you're right," he finally found his voice, though it was rough, as though he were speaking through a hoarse throat first thing in the morning. "same silly old sod as i always was, ain't i?"

somehow he had ended up walking ahead of her, but found himself unable to keep from glancing back, so much so that he was striding forward at an odd angle, almost sideways against the path. "probably because the weather's always shite, and everyone else has the good sense to stay indoors rather than walking out in it," he suggested, though it did not seem to be the case. she was speaking of the past, giving words to what he was feeling, the weight of what had come before that only seemed to grow heavier as he walked. she said the word nostalgia as though it was a curse, and perhaps it was, the strange sort of melancholy that came from reflecting on even the happiest of memories, and in that moment, con could almost hear the echo of laughter from years ago, see the impressions of footprints in the mud from decades ago. he was not the only one of them who had been marked by hardship - brianna had, too, at far too young an age, and he could understand how it would make those happy memories all the more bittersweet.

"yeah. nostalgia." he confirmed, with a slight nod of his head. "creeps up on you from time to time. even feel it out on the sea sometimes, even when there's fuck all about to get me to thinking." it was an attempt to reassure her that this was normal, a natural feeling that had nothing to do with the falls nor his company. it was simply what it was to be human, to look at the past and feel that sort of longing.

"we'll come back," he said, and he knew then that it was a promise ; conall would not return to the reach without doing this again, without looking upon the falls with brianna by his side. "rain or not, we'll come back. can't be worse than this, can it?" he turned his face upwards towards the sky, rain drumming down directly on to his face, as though he was looking for a break in the clouds in that very moment, and then shook his head like one of his dogs shaking water from their coats. "not too much food, mind. it'll be a right pain carrying it all the way up." he stood still until she caught up with him, and nudged her with his shoulder. the thought of returning here was a balm, soothing the raw edges of whatever had caught hold of him. "something to look forward to, isn't it?" he said, and he wasn't sure if he was talking to her or to himself.

the path was becoming less treacherous now, mud beginning to give way to stone beneath their feet as they trudged back towards civilisation. it was more like than not that they would pass others on the walk back to stone hedge, and that was the moment when the world would cease to belong to just the two of them. it was fitting, then, that it was the moment where talk would turn to other riverlanders, emira mallister chief among them. "go on, then," he looked to her expectantly, a grin already unfolding on his lips. "i could do with a good laugh. what did she do?"

[briannabrackens]

♣️

for the periods of time where the only noise was that of the hammering of the rain or the rush of the falls, the sound of her boots squeaking against wet mud and the slippery nature of the rocks acted almost as some strange interjection for brianna's thoughts; the quiet comedic relief seemingly ensuring she did not get too caught up in the soft melancholy that felt almost contagious within this small corner of the world. there were multiple times where even where the quiet did overtake them, and large doe orbs peered back at conall blackbar from behind her shoulder each time her boot squeaked against the rock, unable to stop a slight laugh slipping from her lips as the cold rush of wind and rain caused her cheeks to become increasingly red.

whilst she knew something seemed to be playing at his mind, she understood why - all too well. "aye, well," she started, picking her way carefully across the damp stones, boots slipping slightly before she steadied herself. "we are here again, aren't we?" she mused, glancing back at him over her shoulder. brianna let out a breath, a short huff of laughter that barely left her throat, more exhale than anything else. she hadn't expected him to say that, but maybe she should have. conall always had a way of pulling something real out of her, even when she wasn't looking for it.

"ah, fuck, i dunno. maybe it's just been too long since we were last here. makes the mind play tricks, don’t it?" she tried for levity, but it came out thinner than she meant it to. "or maybe you just need a cup of somethin' warm. reckon that'll fix whatever it is we're silently broodin’ over." but even as she said it, she knew a drink wouldn't fix it. whatever it was. whatever had settled into his chest and his bones, whatever had made him quiet as the falls roared around them.

it was not hard to imagine or recall it; youthful laughter and mindlessly chattering away on yuletide mornings, wrapped in furs and woolen scarves - not just the two of them, but all of their people and their closest; a brisk morning walk before returning to break their fast in the morning, attend the sept and finally go on to open their presents. there had been marriages then, yet those marriages had been made in the forges of love or affection; no widows, no grief, no rumours or accusations of murder. how much had his life changed since they were last back here? how much had hers remained the very same? one seemingly blurred with how much had changed, and the other forever frozen in time.

"and it feels the same to me," she continued, though she wasn't entirely sure that was true. she stuffed her hands deeper into her pockets, fingers brushing over the last lingering warmth where his had been only moments before. "maybe that's the problem, aye? me still bein’ here, same as i was. and you—" she cut herself off, squinting slightly against the drizzle as she glanced at him; droplets of rain against her eyelashes, and suddenly she realised perhaps she should say the rest. still, she had already come out with half of it. maybe he would expect her to say he was not. "well, so are you con."

because, as a person, he was the same to her. all that had changed were situations, and habits - and habits did not make people, did they?

who was in front and who was behind seemed to blend as they walked - his footprints stretched ahead of her, deep in the mud, and she found herself stepping into them one by one. his boots were larger, the impressions wider, and her own steps barely filled them. it was a silly thing to notice, but she noticed it all the same. she had always followed conall in some way or another—through reckless dares when they were young, through fields they weren't supposed to be in, through the kinds of talks only best friends could have. and now, through the old paths of their youth, though they were no longer quite the same.

she let the silence stretch for a moment longer before she nudged his shoulder, not hard enough to knock him off balance, just enough to remind him she was there. "i don't know why i never came back here for so long though. got no real excuse." perhaps she did - perhaps it felt like some sort of ancient sacrilege to come back here alone. "but i don't know, i think...even whilst we've been chatting, it's makin' me remember things. half good, half bad." she had half a mind to joke about ghosts and curses again, but something about the weight in his eyes stopped her. "probably just part of it though. what's the word, it's a fancy one...nostalgia?" the wind cut sharp as they moved further from the falls, the roar of water fading into something gentler, the hush of the gorge giving way to open land.

"can we should try come back before you return to the reach?" she indicated toward the rain, putting both of her hands out dramatically, almost as though she were playfully putting on a show. "perhaps it won't be pissing it down, and i'll bring us food."

the path ahead stretched towards the farmers' fields, the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke curling in the air. she could hear the distant bleat of sheep somewhere beyond the trees, a sound so familiar it might as well have been stitched into her bones. she swallowed, boots squelching as they left the last of the rocks behind.

she let the silence take hold for a moment, then sighed, rolling her shoulders as if shaking something off. "c’mon, then," she muttered, falling into step beside him again. "if i’m gonna lecture you about the riverlanders at court, we best get back before night falls. and don’t you dare let me catch you likin’ emira mallister, con. i mean it." her nose wrinkled slightly, feeling a sense of possessiveness over the idea of him liking someone else or spending time with someone else in the riverlands. anyone but emira mallister, with how insufferable she was. the corners of her mouth twitched, the ghost of a cheeky smile, but she didn't look at him. didn't want to see if he was smiling too, or if that look was still in his eyes. some things, maybe, were better left unspoken.

"you actually wanna know what she done?" she asked, laughter already slipping from her as she emerged onto the flat mud path, turning back to watch conall pull up beside her. "you'll laugh. actually fuckin' weird that one."

they began their descent from the falls, a hush fell over conall. a strange feeling had settled in his chest, a sort of anticipation he couldn't truly name. it was as though he'd been hit with something he didn't want to remember, though there was an absence of memory to fill in the gaps. still, something about the moment felt fragile, and he let the quiet take over, the steady rhythm of their footsteps filling the silence. brianna slipped his hand and hers into her pocket, and conall's breath caught a little at the change, the sudden warmth that spread through his bones and brought a bit of life back to him. it was grounding, and he found himself not minding the chill quite so much anymore.

he shook his head. "you could." it was all he said in response, because he believed it true. if he needed saving, he had full faith that it would be brianna who could do it. it was not just that. it was the way in which she could steady him, ground him in ways that he would not say out loud. it was a kind of calm that needed no words, but simply existed between them, the way that it always had. when his world fell apart, it was brianna that he trusted to hold the pieces together, it was she who always knew how to put things right.

a sudden thought crossed his mind. he had followed her to the falls, as he would follow her anywhere she chose to lead him. it was both settling and unsettling in equal measure. unease tugged at him still, and he felt like he needed to offer something to ease the weight of it. "i don't know about the vance curse, or the sunlight. i think it's just us, sometimes. the way we see things." if she pressed further, he wasn't sure he would know how to explain what he had just said. he was talking just to talk, to fill the silence that brought with it a shiver down his spine.

subconsciously, his hand tightened briefly around hers before he let it go, the path giving way to rocks they need to once again cross. his mind was whirling, a blur of rain and mud and distant thunder than sounded a little closer than it was before. her voice was light, teasing as it ever was, but it sounded as though it was filtered through something, as though his head was underwater and she was calling to him through it.

his feet felt heavy as he trudged forward, as though the mud itself was trying to root him to the spot. he glanced at the water again, ripples catching his eye as it slid beneath them. could the river remind you of anything? he was not sure she had meant the query to be one to give a serious measure of thought, but he was regardless. she had asked, and the question had lodged itself somewhere deep in his mind, gnawing at him like hunger did an empty belly. "call it a sailor's superstition, then," he shrugged a shoulder. "what is the river if not a living thing, then? it moves, it breathes. water's got a memory, i think. it'll hold it long after we are gone." people moved in and out of the world, but the river would remain. its name may change, the faces that wonder its banks different with each passing year, but the water itself would stay. was that enough to call it alive?

his mind was fixed upon the water, the strange flicker in the depths he had no explanation for, when she spoke again, and his expression when he looked at her was one of confusion. it was clear that he had not been listening. "riverlanders at court?" he repeated, it taking him a moment to register what it was she was talking about. once it hit him, his lips quirked upwards. "i'll be sure to take notes," he acquiesced, graciously, her threat of disownment earning a chuckle from him. she had a way of making even the most serious matters feel like they could be laughed off.

and yet, that odd feeling in his chest had not subsided. he turned his gaze to the expanse of the moors, wild and untamed, like something lay just out of his vision, waiting to be noticed. "i'll be honest with you, though," he began. "i have to speak with them all. mallisters, blackwoods, the lot. so don't give me lip if you give me advice i'm forced to ignore." the rain felt colder now, as though it was landing directly on his bones, but in a strange way, he didn't mind. they continued to press forward ; always forward.

"contemplatin' and complicatin'? you'll be giving fiadh vance a run for her money if you keep rhyming like that," he laughed again, louder, the sound echoing against rock and river. "just thinking, anyway." his voice was distant as he said it, stepping on to the weather-worn timbers of the bridge. he could not put into words the weight that pressed upon him in that moment, the feeling that something was tugging at him, a secret the land desperately wanted to share but couldn't.

the world didn’t feel quite the same anymore.

[briannabrackens]

♣️

brianna let out a sharp laugh, feeling the rain run down her neck and soak into the hem of her cloak, but it didn't matter. the cold felt like nothing compared to the oddity tugging at her chest. wide doe eyes glanced upward, almost mirroring the movement he had done as she looked down at her own reflection, and she continued to feel the the rainwater falling onto her face - droplets dripping from the sides of her face, her eyelashes and her nose as she glanced sideways at conall, the steady rhythm of his steps matching hers, and yet there was something about this moment that unsettled her.

and then, the softness of the moment was momentarily broken by the sound of a lady of stone hedge snorting. "push you into that? nah, that's cruel that. even for me. i don't want you dead." there was little acknowledgement to the sounds of the birds suddenly flying ahead of them, though she looked up at the sparrows as they passed over. "don't think i could even save you, you know." she continued to laugh, it echoing through the valleys and tucking into each crevice of the rocks.

a feeling that had no name, though it had been tugging at her for weeks. "aye, maybe you’re right, but i don't know..." she trailed off, her words lingering on her tongue. "the sunlight can do that, ain't it? make things look a bit odd for a moment. or maybe the curse of hugo vance be followin' us still." she hadn't heard anything calling her name here; though, some ancient thought in her desired for something to call her name out. something. she didn't even know what. "or maybe yer sea monsters were ready to pull me in."

her boots squelched in the mud, and the sound was almost comical. she half-turned, raising an eyebrow at him as he approached, his gaze still on the sky, ever searching for something she couldn't place. “can a river remind us of anything though?” her voice was light, teasing as always, but beneath it, there was a certain heaviness that she could never quite shake - it had descended suddenly and slowly all at once as they had traversed further down into the moors. "like...it's not alive is it? not the way we are." his hand was cold to the touch and clammy in hers, and she wordlessly put it within the warmth of her pocket, keeping her hand intertwined in his as they continued to bumble along the edge.

and then his hand needed to drop when they began to step down the rocks - conall caught up to her with each little pause, where one could visibly see her trying to work out which rock was the safest to step on, she nudged his shoulder gently, an automatic gesture, a sign of their ease. even after all this time, it still came so naturally. and yet, there was something different about today. something that made her feel as though the air itself had shifted, heavy with something they couldn't put their finger on. they made their way to the small makeshift bridge which stretched across the creek, watching her step for each one - all the while looking back, as if to ensure he was right behind her.

"when we get back in, remind me to talk ya through the riverlanders at court. not us lot, obviously you know us. and i'll spare ya my rantin' and ravin' about the blackwood cunts." she continued to hold onto her scarf to protect her against the wind, her hair whipping each time she looked back at him - she sounded half a madwoman, trying to shout over the wind. "but i mean like, the others. you can't like emira mallister, i'll disown you if you do."

brianna glanced at him quickly, noticing the subtle furrow in his brow, the tightness around his eyes that he always tried to hide. "what is it, hm?" she murmured, her words as quick as the tumble of the current they walked along. she remained still directly in the middle of the bridge, looking down at her boots as she looked at the current beneath her; moving slowly, but moving. "yer've got that face on. the one where yer contemplatin' and complicatin." she furrowed her brows the way he does when he was thinking.

brianna was laughing, and it was enough to have the corners of conall's mouth turning upwards. there was always something steadying about her presence, even if it felt like an errant wind mind blow them away. as though when it were just the two of them, it could be like it was before. he supposed it was because she had always been there, threading herself effortlessly into his life without asking for anything in return and pulling him back when his thoughts threatened to drift away from him.

he was grateful for that, and for a fleeting moment, he thought to tell her, but the words stayed where they were, tucked away where they were safe. he need not say it - she'd know it whether he said it aloud or not.

once he had released her from his side, she walked a little ahead of him, reaching the water's edge before he did. his steps followed the path she carved, covering the footprints she left in the mud with his own larger ones. he caught up with her as she pulled her foot from the river, the water glistening upon its leather doing little to wash away the mud. "ah, you've outdone yourself this time, bri. might have to call on old granny mary for help scrubbing those clean."

and as she was looking down, conall's gaze was instead turned skywards, the rain needling at his face, though he did not mind. his eyes scanned the clouds for any sign of a break, spots of blue between stormy grey, and he missed whatever it was she saw in the river, the stirring beneath the water, the ripple of something that was not as it should be.

her hand went out, and he placed his own in it, as though she were a child again, clinging to him while he told her stories of the man on the moon.

"what?" he said, frowning. caught in the sentimentality of memory, he had not quite been listening, though he did not need her to repeat it before processing what it was she had said. she led him to the riverbank and pointed, and he could not help the suspicion that crossed into the way he looked at her. "this ain't some trick to push me into the water, is it? bit too rough today for that, bri. i'll have floated halfway to the bay of crabs before anybody could fish me out." and yet, there was something in the way she looked at him that seemed too true for those sorts of games, and so, he looked, leaning over the water until his eyes met that of his reflection.

and for a moment, he searched the water, looking for a glimpse of what it was she had seen. all he saw was the mirror image of the two of them, albeit blurred and rippled by the current, distorted by the way the rain danced as it plunked upon the water's surface. it was enough to make it seem as though there was something in the eye of the conall in the water, as though that version of him remembered something the rest of the world had forgotten, had been here as long as the falls themselves.

"just the rain playing tricks on you," he gave her hand a squeeze, though his voice lacked the firm assurance of someone who was certain of what they were saying. he was never one to dismiss that which was strange. "or maybe the river's way of reminding us that we ain't the same as we were the last time we stood here. water's always changing, isn't it? reckon the same can be said of people. don't mean there's anything wrong with what's looking back at you."

[briannabrackens]

♣️

"aye you land! and you swim! and from time to time, you even roll." brianna laughed, the sound that was not soft but rather sudden, and almost drowned by the roaring falls as she softly nudged her shoulder into his own. the slight expression that crossed her features as she looked upon him made her brows furrow, as though she were in momentarily thought - it was always clear upon her face to see when she was doing that, an open book. a never-ending scoll. she did not care what he did; or what he didn't do - all she cared for, was that this would not change.

she would hold onto the changing tides through clasping hands, and she'd be willing to lose the majority of it if it were pushed - but she'd not lose it all. there would always be some remnant there. he knew that, didn't he?

"next, you'll be tellin' me you're the one whisperin' sense into the wind, and that the sea itself bends to your will." she glanced at him, her rain-slicked curls clinging to her freckled face; there were ample amounts of knots within it, raindrops rolling down the sides of her red cheeks from the cold. "if you have such powers, do a lass a favour?" with a playful glance over her shoulder, she broke away, her boots squelching in the mud as she made for the riverbank. her laugh floated back to him as she half-slipped, catching herself before she tumbled forward, feeling her knees wobble for a moment.

“come to stone hedge and sort out my ol' granny mary's ghost, would ye? she’s been hauntin’ the place for as long as i can remember.” her voice turned teasing, though the fondness in her tone was unmistakable. “she’s always there, sittin’ in the corner of my eye, watchin’ everythin’ i do. died after a conker hit her on the head, gods rest her, you remember that funeral. and now she’s got nothin’ better to do than haunt her grandchild for leavin' her bed unmade.”

brianna reached the edge of the water, her boots dipping into the cold river as she laughed again, this time at herself as the feeling of the cold immediately spread from the bottom of her boots. she gasped, immediately taking her foot out and looking backward at conall, who approached her from behind. “look at me, thinkin’ i’d save you the trouble of cleanin’ them, and here i am, makin’ it worse. they’ll just get muddy again on the way back up, won’t they? no sense in it.” her voice grew softer, and she glanced at the swirling current, her expression unreadable for a moment as she looked at her own reflection. it were momentarily distorted, a strange swirl forming within it, and it was enough to make her lean slightly forward.

she were sure there was something different about her reflection; a strange sort of intensity that seemed to reflect up from the surface. it left her feeling some strange sense of nostalgia as she looked over the orange toned moors once again, her gaze falling specifically upon a dead tree which remained in the distance. foreboding, mighty; how many years had it been here? how much had it seen? and when she looked down upon her reflection, it were settled again. normal. she turned to hear him approaching and extended her hand to his own; as though to silently ask him to join her at the river bank.

"y'know, my reflection just looked proper odd." she commented, all but blurting it out at conall as she helped guide him over the rocks to the small river bank. white foaming swirls filled the river, and she pointed down to the river. as though to ask him to look at his own. her hand lingered in his, even as they stood there in the rain, the sound of the falls filling the silence between them. and she slipped her hand out of his, blowing on it to try and get them warmer as she looked away from their reflections, almost giving a moment for himself. "i don't quite like the way i was lookin' back at myself." she continued to explain, her tone jovial, as though she were playing a prank - but she was not. she meant each word.

for a moment, conall said nothing, letting brianna talk as they trudged to the water's edge, his arm wrapped around her shoulder and warm weight of her at his side. it was a gesture both familiar and threaded with affection - that of a friend who had known her long enough to catch the minute changes in her expression, and well enough not to pass comment on it, to give her any indication that he had noticed beyond this. "maybe it is," his voice was quiet enough that if she was any further away, it would have been lost on the wind. "and it's breathing a little easier too, i'll bet. wouldn't hurt us to do the same."

they trudged forward, still linked together. the falls were relentless, the sound as they hit the waters below thunderous, but there was a strange peace to it, even as the rain hammered down around them. the mist had drawn a curtain around them, softening all that lay beyond. her words caused him to glance down, droplets running off his lashes, towards their mud-caked boots. "nah. nothing a bit of scrubbing won't fix. i'll do them for you later. no use in chucking a good pair of boots. but," he raised his chin again, towards the falls, lingering on the way rainbows of colour seemed to dance where the light hit the water. "if you're gonna ruin them, this is the place to do it."

he gave her one last reassuring squeeze around her shoulders before withdrawing his arm, walking towards the waters edge to stand a little closer. he exhaled a laugh, the sound swallowed by that of nature. "a coin flung to the wind - you've a way with words. but i like to think i land true when it matters." he couldn't deny the truth of it - it was a miracle that he stood here. if not the sea, something should have got him by now. and yet, here he was.

he shifted slightly, corners of his mouth turning upwards. "swear it, i'm not teasing. or at least, that was the story he told. not sure i believe it myself, but he claimed it to be true. might have been his mind playing tricks on him. or it could have been true - strange things happen at sea. enough to make a man believe the things he might have laughed at before." there were things that happened on the water that were impossible to explain to those who did not know it, and sirens certainly weren't the strangest thing on the list. "maybe she loved him. maybe she just had the nature of the sea in her - it's greedy like that. takes without asking."

and even if it had been love, conall was living proof that love could be cruel, could wrap its way around you and consume, could leave tragedy in its wake. he did not voice that thought. there was an innocence to her he wanted to preserve, to allow her to remain ignorant to the sharper side to love for just a little longer. "but if he danced with a mermaid, it was because he thought she was worth drowning for, either way. he went to the depths a happy man."

another silence settled between them, but silences always felt a little different with brianna. not something to be filled, a blank canvas waiting to be painted with the colours of conversation, but something to be shared between them, a warm loaf of bread fresh from the oven. he barked a laugh, head shaking. "and mine will say 'here lies conall blackbar, fool enough to go chasing brianna through the rain.' but you'll live a long while yet, bri." he would not say that she would outlast them all - he knew from experience that was no blessing. "you need to outlive me, anyway, just to make sure they get the story right. when i go."

he blinked a little, knowing not what to make of her story. "you answered it?" his voice rose with playful disbelief, even as his brow creased in a frown. "generally not a good idea to shout back if something calls your name in the woods." even if he were not superstitious, he would have given the same advice. a bandit was just as much a danger as a spirit. even the thought of hugo vance running screaming from the woods wasn't enough to wipe the concern from his face.

"you're both lucky it didn't follow you home. haven't heard any knocking at your window at night, have you? any spooked horses? nothing out of the normal?"

[briannabrackens]

♣️

as the falls came into view, she straightened slightly, her shoulder still brushing his. her breath hitched as she took in the rushing water, framed by the mist and rain. “it’s somethin’ else, isn’t it?” she whispered, her voice soft with awe. “i’ve seen it before, but not like this. not with the rain. it feels alive, like the whole world’s breathin’ just for us right now.” for a moment, she let the sight pull her thoughts elsewhere—to stone hedge, to her mother’s faraway gaze, to the quiet weight of duty she carried. the vulnerability that flickered in her eyes was brief but unguarded, and she trusted conall not to call attention to it.

when conall stepped closer, his arm coming around her shoulders, she stilled for a breath, the intimacy of the gesture catching her by surprise. but as his warmth seeped through the damp fabric of his coat, she let herself lean into him, her head resting lightly against his shoulder, as though to silently give in to his silent question that yes - he had caught her having a brief moment. there was a slight sniff as she gave a soft laugh at his comment. "aye, we deserve to dawdle all we want. look at us, even doing this in the first place. boots are beyond repair, i'll say a prayer and toss 'em." it was easier than pulling away, easier than letting herself think too hard about why it felt so natural to be close to him like this, or how he knew a brief flicker of a moment in the rain.

“oh, con,” brianna began, her voice quiet but laced with a warm affection that softened the chill of the rain. “you’re tellin’ me you leave nothin’ to chance, but isn’t that half your charm? you’re like a coin, flung into the air, landin’ where it pleases. seaman, ser ambassador-” she glanced up at him, rain streaking her freckled face, and let a bright smile tug at her lips. “it’s a wonder you’ve made it this far with the sea testin’ you at every turn though; sounds like a fuckin' nightmare."

she shook her head lightly, droplets falling from her damp hair, which clung stubbornly to her face. "a siren, though? truly married to a man? you’re not teasin’ me? i can’t picture it—what would a creature like that see in one of you sailors? you lot spend half your days wrestlin’ waves and the other half cursin’ the sea for it.” her tone was playful, but the faint awe in her voice betrayed her disbelief, almost naive and in shock. “still, it’s a fine tale. a sad one, maybe...if it were real, d'you reckon she ever loved him? or was it always her plan to lure him to a watery death?”

her voice dipped lower, almost to herself. “and leviathans… gods above. i wouldn’t even know how to imagine such a thing, let alone believe it. to think of somethin’ so big it swallows ships whole—maybe that’s what the sea is, eh? a place for things that shouldn’t exist, but do. ain't no way any of us could manage to bring the laws of kings and the gods out there....” she stayed silent for a long while, the steady rhythm of their steps and the sound of the river filling the space between them. finally, she chuckled softly, her breath visible in the cold air. she let out another puff.

“you know,” she murmured, her voice lilting with humour, “if we both come down sick after this, wouldn’t that just be somethin’? ‘here lies brianna bracken,’ they’d say. ‘died takin’ a walk in the rain with connie blackbar. she should’ve known better.’ for all of her girlish fears, specifically mice and rats, brianna bracken laughed in the face of death. it came lighter this time, and she tilted her head slightly, looking up at him through rain-damp lashes.

“it’d be a foolish end, wouldn’t it? but i suppose there are worse ways to go, old friend.”

she broke the stillness with a sudden laugh, shaking her head. “speakin’ of strange things,” she began, her voice lighter now, though a hint of nervous energy lingered. “you’ll think me dumb for this, but just the other day, hughey vance and i were out by the woods at stone hedge. you know how he gets—caught up lookin' at some mushroom, didn't make it back in time for dinner and who needs to go lookin' for him?” she hesitated, pointing at herself, her voice dipping lower as she glanced at him. “well, we heard somethin’ callin’ my name. and like the great idiot i am, i answered it.” she paused, letting the weight of her words hang in the air.

“connie, i swear on the gods, somethin’ answered back. not hughey, not the wind—somethin’ else. before i knew it, we both saw… i don’t know what to call it. a spirit, maybe? it was pale and shiftin’, like mist caught in moonlight. we didn’t wait to find out what it wanted. we ran out of those woods like a pair of children, screamin’ all the way back to the hall.”

the thunder of water was growing louder, the falls not yet visible, but making their presence known, but it was not yet enough to drown out the sound of her voice. he shook his head to flick some of the water from his face, but it made little difference. "should be thanking you then, i suppose," there was a chuckle in his voice. "for working so tirelessly for my benefit."

people who don't care what you've done.

the words struck a chord deep within him, sending a slight shudder down his spine, though that may have been the cold. there was something about the way she said it, soft and earnest, that made it hard to respond. for a long time, the people conall encountered had been split into two : the people who thought him guilty, and the people who didn't. he had never stopped to consider a third category, those who simply did not care.

he wanted to believe it, wanted to cling to those words as tightly as she held her shawl. often, he thought of the faces that turned away when he passed, the whispers that would follow when his back was turned, the open wound of a brother's scorn. but now, he was thinking of the faces who held his gaze, who stood unwaveringly beside him. "there is," he admitted. "and they're the ones who matter, eh?"

he turned back to look at her then, intending to say something to deflect the heaviness he wasn't sure she'd meant to place there, but something about the expression on her face made the words die in his throat. rain slid down her face, but it was her expression that caught him. he could not name it, but his gaze lingered on it. she'd always carried the weight of life with an ease he had envied, meeting the world with a quip and a grin even when it pressed down hard on her, with a resolve beyond her years. he'd always admired that about her, but when he looked at her now, he was reminded that she were just a girl still, vulnerability etched into her expression, as though there was something in the rain she did not want him to notice.

he said nothing, but stepped closer, throwing his arm around her and bidding her to lean on his side for the last stretch of the walk. "come on. we've been dawdling," he tried to keep his voice cheerful, tried not to draw attention to the tether that existed between them, one neither ever fully acknowledged, but both relied upon.

"depends on the ship," and how easily they slipped back into nonsense, to talk of things that did not matter, and yet somehow, when they were together, they did. "sometimes it's the bottle, sometimes it's the name, and sometimes the gods just decide to test you. we try not to leave anything to chance." he glanced towards her, the mock-seriousness of his expression betrayed by the look in his eyes that made it clear that for his folk, it was all too real. "never met a siren, though did sail with a bloke who swore he was married to one," one side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin. "used to sit on the deck at night with his eyes on the horizon, listening out for her song. went overboard one day because he thought he heard it and never resurfaced." he didn't know if he'd actually heard a siren-song, or if it were a trick of the wind.

"monsters, though," he continued, dropping his voice as though it were a secret only for her, one not even the rain and wind were allowed to be privy too. "seen my share. once came upon a pod of leviathans. they smacked the ship with their tails like they were playing hurling with it. cracked the hull badly, thought we were going under." in the end, they'd made it back to land, just barely. the ship had been decommissioned, the parts used for other vessels. no sailor would have stepped foot on her again.

the shields weren't much, but they were his. he simply nodded. it went without saying that she could join him there, whenever she saw fit to. "you don't need to ask, bri," he pointed out. "just... come. i'd be glad to have you there." he did not mention that it was a lonely place for him, even as he sought to make it his own.

the falls came into view, as eternal and unchanging as they always were, and though it was not a new sight, he let out a low whistle, for it was no less impressive. he withdrew his arm from her shoulder, stepping closer to the water to watch it tumble and churn, unrelenting. "weird how things that have always been can still surprise you, isn't it?" when he looked back at her, his grin was wide. "something worth remembering, at least."

[briannabrackens]

♣️

the bridge’s planks groaned under brianna’s steps, her boots slick with rain as she finally joined conall on firmer ground. the rushing river below swallowed most sounds, but not his. his voice, rich and familiar, cut through the patter of rain like it had carved itself into her life years ago and never left. she wiped her sodden hair from her face, laughing lightly at his retort, hearing the mud squelch beneath her boots. "brianna the bully, is it?" she grinned, nudging his arm.

"you should be so lucky, connie. keepin’ you humble is a full-time job." her teasing was light but carried that underlying warmth that came from years of shared moments like this. moments that seemed to settle into her bones and find a home there. each time he turned back to look at her, she maintained his gaze; looking up from her boots, as though to silently reassure that they were still going.

she fell quiet, letting his words hang in the air between them as she looked toward the river. she felt the weight in what he’d said about the sea—the way it didn’t care what a man had done, how it just existed. the notion was freeing in a way she could hardly articulate. brianna wasn’t one for heavy reflection, but with conall, she found herself lingering in those spaces more often than not. the sound of the running stream seemed to ease away in her mind, and for a moment she almost pictured a young marjorie baratheon walking along these same paths with her husband.

"there are people who don't care what you've done either." she spoke, a particularly strong gust of wind causing her to clutch at her warm woolen shawl, that was no doubt drenched through.

how many a time did many report how she appeared just like her mother; down to her very freckles. she almost pictured the sound of their laughter, the sounding of her calling the names of her two children. and for a moment she were glad the rain settled into a heavy downpour, for there was no way for connie blackbar being able to turn around and notice a single, silent tear running down her cheeks. because she knew when they finished, they would need to turn back. and she would pass through the gates of stone hedge again, and face it all.

to laugh and help care for the ruling lady of stone hedge, who looked her daughter in the face and asked for her name.

"how do curses even work on a ship, then?" she asked, breaking the quiet, her voice curious and edged with doubt. of attempting to ensure it did not break "i’ve never launched a ship before. seems strange to think the whole thing could go wrong because of a bottle, but... well, you sailors are a superstitious lot, aren’t they? tell me, you ever seen a siren? a sea monster?" the rain picked up, slicking their hair and clothes, but brianna hardly noticed. the weight of something unsaid sat heavy on her tongue, but she swallowed it. she wanted to ask about ross, the brother who had turned his back on conall and left him untethered.

she couldn't imagine never returning back to her home. not believing yourself welcome there. it were unclover, no, it were ungodly to do such a thing to your kin: as though they were nothing more than targaryens. so rather than ask of bandallon and reminding him of his detachment from her place, she'd ask other things. like of the shield isles.

the words pressed against her lips, but she didn’t give them space. not now. not when everything between them felt like it hung in perfect balance. she wouldn’t disrupt it. not for anything. "the shields, aye?" she finally said, her voice soft. "i'd be honored to see yer lands, connie blackbar. if you'll have me there." she paused, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, her final words more of a joke - they never behaved in such a way with one another. he never needed to send word forward when he were visiting stone hedge. "i'm excited to see how yer've made it yer own." the sounds of the rushing falls came closer, and she exhaled a breath of cold air, visible before her, cheeks red with the cold.

"there she is." they came into view of it, and she watched as the grey surface of the smaller falls danced under the drops of the heavens. "ain't ever seen it in the rain, don't think."

he'd reached the end of the bridge, but conall paused before stepping upon firmer ground, still peering at her from over his shoulder. there was something about the way her hair was plastered to her head from the rain, the way her voice lingered, the way it felt like they had found a place where they were the only two that existed that had him hesitating to step off.

but he could not remain here forever. the falls awaited them, as steadfast and timeless as they had always been. he took the step forward, feeling the mud beneath his boots once more.

"aye. makes me feel right at home." his eyes rolled. "most would turn their nose up at it, but i think it holds a certain charm," his tone was as joking as his, but that was not why he missed the sea. his expression shifted then, to something more thoughtful and true. "nothing like a lung full of salt-air, but it's not that i'm missing. the sea don't care what you've done, does it? if you're good or bad. it just is." he'd been a sailor long before there was a mark on his name, but it took on a different meaning to him now. a different sort of comfort. his gaze fell on the river then, the rush of water. it had a different scent, a different sort of movement to it, but the damp that was seeping into his bones was familiar. "you're right. it's all connected somewhere, isn't it?" like veins to the heart, all streams found their way to the sea in the end.

he scoffed, letting go of the moment of contemplation. "connie the crestfallen," not the worst thing he had been called, though he didn't really want it catching on. "not the worst thing i've been called, but keep that one to yourself." there was a mock-sternness to his tone, but it was so unnatural that he could not even take himself seriously, and it was utterly undermined by the laugh threatening to break through. "brianna the bully. never give me a moment of peace, do you?"

he did not mind. he would rather be hounded by brianna than not.

he couldn't help but laugh at the idea of her naming his next vessel, stepping aside to let her step off the bridge alongside him. "you can name her, if you want. you'll have to get the name passed lucrezia florent, mind you, before you go suggesting anything that'll get me in trouble." had it been anybody else, he might have already been regretting the promise, but there were allowances when it came to brianna that did not exist for others, a sort of kinship. between them there existed a silent understanding, one that did not need to be touched or examined. "as long as you make sure the bottle smashes right. if it don't break, the ship's cursed." it was an old belief held amongst sailors, but they were a superstitious lot.

mentions of his brother usually brought a scowl to his lips, accompanied by a barb that was not common in conall blackbar. today, though, he simply sighed, shaking his head. "no, bri. won't be bandallon. my face ain't a welcome sight there anymore." it was a strange thing, to be cut adrift from the place you called home by a man you called brother. "got enough to deal with without stirring all that up again. you can come to the shields. i think you'd like it there."

[briannabrackens]

♣️

brianna placed a hand on the damp wood of the bridge’s railing, her steps deliberate but light as she followed conall’s path across. her usual bravado had softened, the teasing edge to her voice giving way to something quieter, something she couldn’t quite name. the rain fell in steady sheets around them, a curtain of silver that muffled the world beyond the bridge, leaving just the two of them suspended in the moment.

“you talk about missin’ the sea,” she said, her voice low but light enough to carry over the water, almost as though it were sing song. “i get it. though, let’s be honest, you just miss the smell of fish guts and piss-soaked docks, don’t ya? bet it feels like home.” she grinned, though it softened quickly as she glanced at his back. “makes sense, i s’pose. i’d miss this if i left it behind.” her gaze drifted to the water, swirling and surging, relentless in its journey.

“but you can consider this your call to the seas, ambassador blackbar; this little stream be the sea somewhere.”

the rain slicked her hair to her forehead, and she brushed it away with a quick motion, her steps slowing as she tilted her head to watch the river below. “if i left this behind,” she mused, gesturing vaguely at the mist-shrouded valley around them, “i’d miss it, too. not just the land, but the way it settles in your bones. like a warm chill.” conall turned briefly, just enough to glance over his shoulder at her, and she caught the faintest trace of a smile before he faced forward again.

she felt her own lips tug upward, and without thinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing his arm lightly.

“but let’s not get all mopey about it,” she added, her tone shifting back to its usual teasing cadence. “otherwise, i’ll have to start callin’ you ‘connie the crestfallen,’ and that’s a mouthful even for me. i ain't even got any whiskey with me.” the grin she threw his way was wide and unrepentant, and she didn’t miss the way his lips twitched, though he said nothing. they pressed on, the far bank growing closer with every step, and the rain only seemed to intensify, the world narrowing down to the two of them and the bridge. there was no denying the fact the man came alive on the deck of his galley; she had once seen him climb to the top of the sails, simply to check.

“you’re gonna tell me the name of your next ship, aren’t you? or do i get to christen it? ‘cause if you leave me out of the naming, we’re gonna have a serious problem.” she let out a laugh, her voice sharp with amusement as it carried over. but even in that jest, there was the strange, lingering feeling that neither of them really belonged to any place but where they stood, under the rain, with each other. "do i crack a bottle on it? it won't be in bandallon though, will it? oh go on then, i've never been on an island."

there was no reaction as he grabbed onto her elbow to keep her steady, no semblance of realisation; it were only second nature. “don’t worry,” she said, nudging him lightly with her elbow, “i’m not suggesting a family reunion or anything." it was a soft comment, one meant to keep the tone light, but there was something beneath it, a quiet understanding that the blackbar brothers weren’t exactly the best of friends. not in the way some families were.

conall ran a hand over his face again, pushed rain-soaked hair back from where it fell on his forehead. brianna was in better state than he, having not had river water flung at her, but no less bedragged, the wind tying her hair in knots about her face, the hem of her dress caked in layers of muck.

"ah, there'll be time for a hot bath later." it was not a day to worry about clean shirts and respectable appearances. here, the land was at its most raw and rugged, and they looked the part of wanderers upon it - untamed, half-wild, as though they belonged there as much as the rush of the river or the reeds that framed it. and yet, that was only true of one of them. conall was not of these lands, but his connection to them was nothing that could be ignored. if asked, he would say it was a connection with those he called kin, but he knew it was more than that. he just did not know how to put that into words.

"you'll make me fat if you decide to pay for my company with pies. but i suppose that might be worth sticking around for." he let the moment hand just long enough before cracking a grin. "i still need to get you back for that," he gestured to his sodden, stained shirt. and it'll be when you least expect it." perhaps when they had arrived at the falls, or perhaps another time, another day, another walk. there would be another opportunity. with brianna, all the bleakness that followed conall seemed to melt at the edges. he could be just as he was.

"ser ambassador?" his voice was laced with amusement. "i'd rather walk back to the reach barefoot than hear anybody call me that." he stopped for a second, scraping his boots on a nearby rock to clear them of some of the mud that had collected there, so they may once again find safer purchased on the ground. "you'll call me connie, same as you always have. anything else and i'd be worried i'd offended you somehow."

as they approached the bridge, the ground turned even softer, and he had to slow his pace to prevent from slipping over, brow furrowed in concentration. he paid no mind to the way his hand shot out, gripping brianna's elbow to keep her steady, prevent her slipping on the bank. "careful," he warned her. "i'll fish you out if you fall in the river, but i'd rather you didn't."

once he was sure she was steady, he let go of her arm, pressing forward against the elements. "ambassador life is fine," he responded. "still got the feeling i'll be cocking it all up sooner rather than later, but i don't seem to have yet. suppose that's the best we can ask for for now." but it wasn't quite enough, he knew. he had been a pariah these last few years, since abigail blackbar had gone to her grave, and there were families within these lands he could not approach due to the mark that left upon him - the blackwoods chief amongst them. but neither could he leave for home without accomplishing the task cedric had charged him with, not wanting the king to think he had made a mistake in choosing him for this. "miss the sea," he confided in her. "but i know it's still there."

his attention was diverted to the bridge, and he cupped his hand around his brow to keep the rain from obscuring his visibility, eyes scanning its structure for any sign of weakness. more than once, brianna reached out to steady herself on his arm, and he let it pass without comment, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "let's hope it's a sturdy as it is beautiful," his tone was light. "storm's left it standing, but let me go first. i'm heavier than you." if it were able to bear his weight, she should be able to cross without problem.

he stepped on the bridge, began edging his way across, taking care where he stepped. half-way across, he glanced behind him to check that she was still following, had not somehow evaporated into the mist.

[briannabrackens]

♣️

brianna’s boots sank into the muck with each step, but she didn’t mind. the damp, cool air of the riverlands was oddly comforting, the rain falling like a quiet warning. her eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced back at conall, his figure framed by the shifting light and shadow of the thick trees. home—not in the same way it was for her, but the land still seemed to claim him in some quiet, powerful way.

she couldn’t help but smile to herself, whilst his eyes only looked on her back. she didn’t need to look at him to know his expression, the twinkle in his eyes betraying the words. of course, he’d say that. but beneath it? she felt it all—he’d have it no other way.

the earth beneath her feet, the rough path—this was all second nature, like breathing. but it was conall’s presence that grounded her more than the land did. "uh, it be a my godsgiven right to be a thorn in yer side. oh look, i be soundin' proper reach now aye?" she looked backward at him, a grin crossing over her features; she had always insisted that reachfolk were far more graceful and elegant than the likes of them. with the exception of connie.

the splash of mud was a mischievous impulse, one she couldn’t resist. she grinned to herself as she watched the muddy water coat his chest. for just a second, brianna was a child again, laughing and teasing, unbothered by the weight of responsibility or expectation. "oh, shit. that looks really bad." she managed to splutter through laughter, holding each side of her hips as one hand went over her mouth. "like ya fell head first into horse dung or somehin."

“you’re right,” she said, voice light, teasing. “it’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it?” her tone shifted ever so slightly, something softer edging into it, the smile fading into something more thoughtful as the rain began to fall in heavier sheets. she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and glanced at him again, her gaze lingering for just a moment longer than it should have.

as they continued down the path, she was aware of his presence beside her—steady, like the earth itself. always the steady one. even when she was the one who was anything but. “i’ll make sure you’re well fed,” she said, a sly smile creeping back into her voice. “no need to twist your arm too hard. just don’t think you’re getting away with more mud fights.” she let her words hang in the air as they pressed on, the storm above them now fully unleashed.

brianna adjusted the shawl around her shoulders as the rain began to fall harder, the path underfoot turning slick. she glanced over at conall, his silhouette dark against the heavy clouds, and a thought surfaced that had been lingering in the back of her mind. the light teasing had passed, but the truth of the conversation wasn’t so easily avoided. she spoke with a more serious tone, her words cutting through the quiet hiss of the rain.

“how’s ambassador life treating ya, then?” she asked, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, keeping her pace steady as the trail narrowed ahead. "do i call ya ser ambassador? ambassador ser?" she let the words settle, a bit more weight behind them than usual. she knew what it meant to be out of place, to have a role not quite your own. but conall—he seemed so at ease with the unfamiliar, even when it was clear he didn’t fit the role the way others might have.

she pointed toward the bottom of the valley, where there was a small manmade bridge and a collection of rocks; their destination. they'd be there soon. "thought the recent storm coulda damaged it. still a beauty." the mud was wet, treacherous; there were multiple times where she steadied herself by holding onto his arm out of pure instinct or absentmindedly, though in her excitement she had begun to push forward.

this was not his land, not in the way it was brianna's, but the riverlands were a place conall felt home. the rift between the brothers blackbar meant bandallon had been closed to him, and though he had the shields, they could be a lonely place. no, it was here where conall felt most himself, a familiarity with the the way the earth settled and shifted something he felt deep in his bones, an ancient sort of knowing.

conall snorted, the sound half-lost on the winds. "bri, you've been the whole ache in my backside, start to finish, since you were old enough to talk and quick enough to aim a jab. don't think you've let me rest ever since." his tone may have been dry, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that betrayed him. if brianna bracken was a pain, it was clear conall blackbar did not mind. he'd have it no other way.

he didn't bother trying to dodge the splash of mud. it was too quick, anyway. trying to jump out of the way likely would have sent him slipping into the mud. instead, he let it hit his chest, splashing his clothes, his face, his hair, soaking through his tunic. he stopped mid-step, slowly raising a hand to wipe the worst of it from his dripping face. then, he let out a long-suffering sigh that dissolved into laughter.

"fairer than you, i hope. you've a cruel streak, bri bracken. i'll be sure to tell my king what you've subjected his ambassador to." he gestured to the stain spreading across his front.

there was too much warmth in his words for them to mean anything. he began to walk again, pressing on toward the falls. the combination of rain and bri's vicious attack had made his clothes feel a little heavier, sticking to his skin as he walked. "i hope to meet her soon," he confirmed. "if she's got people like you and your kin championing her cause, that counts for a lot."

her tone shifted, and he glanced sideways at her. she said much, without saying anything at all. "you will." his voice took on a sort of sincerity that hadn't been present before. "there's no need to twist my arm too hard with promises of filling my belly. your brother is the hand, and, well, you're both my friends. that's reason enough to pay your home a visit."

and as quick as it came, he let it go, reaching out to grab hold of a tree and haul himself up a particularly steep bit of the path. "besides," his smirk returned. "i've got a feeling your mud's not finished with me yet."

[briannabrackens]

♣️

brianna barely registered the dampness creeping up her legs as she pressed forward, boots slipping and sliding slightly in the muck of the riverlands trail. the sky had darkened, thick clouds rolling in from the west, and the promise of a storm was almost palpable. but she didn’t mind. she loved the rawness of this land—the way it mirrored her own restless nature. she could feel the weight of history and tradition hanging in the air, like the fog that rolled over the hills.

her gaze flicked back to conall as he carefully made his way behind her, his steps seemingly natural behind her own; despite this landscape not being on his doorstep, he seemed able to clamber down like he too were a sheep. she smiled to herself. his voice cut through her thoughts, and she stifled a laugh at his words. “a pain in the ass, am i connie blackbar?” she called over her shoulder. she could hear the playful teasing in his tone, even if he tried to mask it with his usual dry humor.

the riverlands were as untamed as they came, and brianna couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, with any better company. she hummed a soft tune beneath her breath, the words of an old clover song rising to her lips without thought. she didn’t even notice. the melody was like a secret buried deep in her bones, one that had been passed down for generations.

but she wasn’t in the mood for being serious, not when the air was so thick with possibility and the world felt like it was on the edge of something. "ah, you'll manage it enough. even if ya need to come swoopin' in like some hero." she teased, holding her shawl closer to her. "i didn't think cedric tyrell smart 'till he picked you for this."

brianna turned around to face him, her boots skimming through the wet earth beneath her. and suddenly, she grinned a grin that were wicked and kicked up a splash of muddy water, watching it hit him square in the chest. the splash was large enough that even the heavens seemed to pause, as if the world was holding its breath. for a second, she forgot to be anything but herself—laughing with the ease of childhood, reveling in the familiar comfort of his presence. "i reckon you'll like queen iona. she's fair, you know? what's the word...just. a real ruler."

as the rain began to fall in heavier sheets, brianna continued on, walking slowly toward the waterfall. her heart, as unsteady as the path beneath her feet, didn’t quite know what to expect from this meeting, from this new chapter. but the rain, the quiet hum of the song, and conall’s steady presence were the only constants in the storm.

“you know,” she began, more thoughtful now, her voice lowering a little, “if you’re going to be around here more often, does that mean i’ll see a lot of you in the riverlands?” she tilted her head to one side, eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at him. her tone was casual, but her curiosity was evident. "may not always see you in riverrun, sometimes i'll need to be home, but you can always swing by...if you can, 'course. good reason to top up supplies." she quickly added. they didn't speak on why she would be needed at home.

there were days where conall blackbar felt like a man with one foot in the grave, but this was not one of them. the scenery was good, and the company better, the rain more pleasant than a hinderance when it came to the ascent. "if he's taking notice of me, it's probably because i'm the only idiot up for the job. you riverlanders are a pain in the ass." his laugh betrayed the fact he meant no malice as he followed behind her, boots finding purchase in the uneven ground.

an ambassador. the word sounded grander than the task felt - far too grand for the likes of conall. "it means smiling at folk who don't like you very much and talking to them like you don't know it." he responded, scuffing the next rock with his foot to gauge how steady it was before stepping on it. "don't think my voice would do much good if they did decide to war with one another... but it's a good sign."

at least, he thought it was. there were any number of men that king cedric could have sent in his stead - one who did not have a long standing friendship with the hand of the river queen. he must have known that, to conall, the brackens' judgement would take precedence, clouding the tone of the information he sent back. if the king wasn't swaying that way already, he'd chosen the wrong man for the job.

"suppose when you've got a kingdom to rule, everything in it is your business. it's easy to forget that the stuff beyond it is, well... not." he finished, lamely. "i don't know the prince, and i don't know the queen much, either, but if your brother says she's the one who should be wearing the crown, that's good enough for me." he just needed to gather enough evidence to support that, rather than simply because ronan bracken said so.

he raised his hand, an indication that he had heard her. "yeah, yeah. i see it." he picked his way through the rocks, concentration creasing his face as he attempted to make his way through the rocks. he needed new boots, he thought, idly. or at least, to get these ones repaired. the grip was wearing away at the bottom, making the walk more difficult than it should be. or perhaps, he was simply a little less sprightly than he had been the last time he had made the walk to the falls.