#✧ interaction ╱ brandon karstark | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daceystvrk · 4 months ago

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a temporary hush fell between them. usually when such silences fell, it kicked dacey's mind into overdrive, always assuming the worst of herself, always trying to figure out where she had gone wrong. but there was reassurance in his voice, and her cheeks turned half a shade more flushed when it hit her that she had missed the point, completely overlooked that this was simply banter between brothers, even if one of the brothers were not there to hear it. it still did not feel like her place to poke fun at aleksander behind his back, but neither did she need to explain and overexplain it, neither. she breathed out, and nodded her head once more. "thank you."

it was a common pattern for dacey. for a brief moment, her defences would lower enough for her to speak without thinking, until her mind caught up with her and forced her to re-examine what she had said. and then she would doubt herself. she spun, but continued to try and maintain eye contact with him, glancing back over her shoulder with her neck twisted at an awkward angle until the only option was to turn her head the other way. for a brief second, confusion flitted over her face, for when he announced his intention to speak with the hand, her mind still went to him first, not nasir manderly. "i am sure that will put many minds at ease."

he mentioned speaking to the king, and it would not be hard for him to notice how dacey tensed at the idea. was that a good idea? she opened her mouth, then closed it again. unless you think it best. was that a rhetorical question, or was he truly asking her opinion? she wanted to reassure him that owen would want to speak with him, and a part of her believed that to be true, but though he was her brother, she would not deny the truth - brandon knew him best. even now, he knew him better than dacey did.

"i don't know," she admitted, softly. there was worry, the sort of worry she always felt when she thought about owen these days. "i'd like to be able to tell you that i think he would prefer to hear it from you himself, but i truly don't know, brandon. do you want to speak with him?"

♞

the quickness to which the princess of the north, those the songs often dubbed as the rose of snow within the lands of karhold, took to attempting to defend aleksander karstark made brandon go momentarily quiet - though not for reasons one may have assumed. not because he felt as though she were interceding on something that was not hers to deal with, nor because he found the closeness she shared with aleksander to be questionable or inappropriate: but rather because it felt as though she had missed the part where it were clear the brothers of karhold were joking.

"i know, yer highness." his words were quiet but reassuring under the sound of the music as they continued to dance, his hand still resting respectfully on her hip as they spun around; he was careful not to barge her into any other couple on the dance floor. she were over explaining herself, in a way that would no doubt show far more of her state of mind than his own. "he'll not hear a word from me about it." a part of him wondered if this was the consequence of a clear change in sibling dynamics, what happens when the oldest brother is no longer that, but a king too.

for some reason the sight of the smallest of heads nods, the acknowledgement of his word, seemed to cause him a sense of relief - that there was at least one of the royals that understood the movement had not been encouraged by him, nor those who spoke it. none would find brandon karstark within their halls, igniting their whispers and their flames; not so soon after the weapons had been laid to rest. "i intend on speaking with the hand of the king himself on it. enough has befallen us all, i will not speak in riddles or wait in the shadows." he spun her around, watching as she turned.

whether brandon thought it was his truth, was something else entirely. he agreed with the sentiment. he agreed with what was being said. only, he did not agree with the timing; nor did he agree with the method in which such rumour was being spread. "unless you think it best for me to speak to the king himself." the king, instead of owen; there was so much change in wording, words that still felt foreign upon his lips. he watched as thought crossed over her features; no doubt, a sense of kindness remained upon her face.

#✧ interaction ╱ brandon karstark

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isefyres · 5 months ago

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𝔐𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔯𝔞:

CONQUEST ERA. aegon i targaryen, rhaenys targaryen, obsidia celtigar, torrhen stark, brandon snow, thorea stark.

JAEHERYS ERA. alaric stark, alyssa targaryen, baelon targaryen, viserra targaryen, saera targaryen, alarra stark.

DANCE ERA. laena velaryon, jacaerys velaryon, rhaena targaryen, serafia celtigar, kermit tully. floris baratheon, cassandra baratheon, heleana targaryen, criston cole, aemond targaryen, daeron targaryen. viserys i targaryen, rhea royce, lea tyrell, aliandra martell, lyandra saan.

POST DANCE ERA. viserys ii targaryen, jaehaera targaryen, myrmadora haen.

REBELLION ERA. rhaegar targaryen, ser arthur dayne, ashara dayne, elia martell, ned stark, catelyn tully.

MAIN ERA. osney kettleblack, balerion blackfyre, orysa baratheon, cersei lannister, tywin lannister, joanna swyft, laena longwaters, gendry baratheon, shireen baratheon, alynne connington, jon connington, vera dondarrion, rolland storm, shyra errol, daven lannister, addam mallister, elyra brax, jeyne westerling, joy hill, edmure tully, barbara bracken, eleanor mooton, liane vance, bethany blackwood, astor sunderly, gyselle goodbrother, wallace waynwood, myranda royce, lyn corbay, mya stone, bryanna coldwater, harrold hardyng, jennis templeton, catelyn stark, jeyne poole, mara mormont, jorah mormont, wylla manderly, alys karstark, beth cassel, brandon cassel, freyia knott, sigorn of thenn, howland reed, ellaria sand, edric dayne, gwayne dayne, addam whitehead, quira qorgyle, trystane martell, harmen uller, jeyne fowler, willas tyrell, elinor tyrell, desmora redwyne, megga tyrell, eleana vyrwel, bayard norcross, taena merryweather, tommen costayne, irri, doreah, lysandro orthys, narcyssa orthys, ezzara, sariah, cahira, malakai veltheos,

bold: most likely to respond faster and high need to write. italics: testing or wanting more interactions. nothing: can go either way.

*note: jacaerys velaryon, willas tyrell and maybe ashara dayne will get single blogs possible but they remain here. you can request things from solo blogs here or on my discord: caliofhousestark

#「 ✷ 」 » out of character. / ━━ ˋ the game of thronesˎˊ˗#「 ✷ 」 » starters. / ━━ ˋ request of entryˎˊ˗

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tartheanmaid · 1 year ago

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Can I ask why you ship Jon and Sansa? (I'm assuming that's what the Jonsa means in your bio) Not attacking you or anything just curious. They are half siblings and while Jon was a bit separated due to him being the bastard they still were raised together and he's much older. Ik incest and weird relationships is normal in GOT but still

i’m not much involved in the show fandom anymore, but going by medieval and asoiaf/book lore, jonsa isn’t incest. i can direct you to much more lovely people who could explain this way better if you like, but they aren’t half-siblings. ned is not jon’s father, rhaegar is. jon is lyanna’s son (ned’s sister).

westeros is very culturally against incest in all forms, but their definition of it is quite different from the modern world’s. i’m the kind of person who, when i engage in a piece of media, i try to do it through the lens of someone who would actually live there. that is why i don’t consider jonsa incest, because in westeros cousin marriage is not only accepted but extremely common. lysa, sansa’s aunt, wished to marry sansa to her cousin/lysa’s son sweetrobin. additionally, ned, lyanna, brandon, and benjen’s parents (the starklings paternal grandparents), were first cousins.

the only kinds of incest westeros and essos condemn are sibling/sibling, aunt/nephew, mother/son, and father/daughter.

i believe george intentionally didn’t make them interact at all in the chapters where they’re both in the same location. i also believe it is sansa, not arya or jeyne poole or alys karstark who is the girl in grey.

why do i ship them in a general sense? 1. i believe they are compatible and would work well together as a couple based on their own internal wants and feelings about love and marriage.* 2. if sansa is to hold some sort of northern leadership, she must marry a man who is willing to give up all of his titles + name for her so that they may continue house stark. jon is the perfect fit for that in my opinion ( @istumpysk has a great meta on this titled “find sansa’s husband”).

* “Sansa, two years older, drew the crown prince, Joffrey Baratheon. He was twelve, younger than Jon or Robb, but taller than either, to Jon's vast dismay. Prince Joffrey had his sister's hair and his mother's deep green eyes. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar. Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall.” - JON I, AGOT

as for the age gap, that part does make me sort of uneasy, but i do believe george feels the same way about that. which i think is why he tried so hard to make the 5 year gap work (if you’re not familiar, the 5 year gap was a scrapped time jump that was to happen in between ADWD and TWOW). if the 5 year gap had ended up working out, sansa would be around 17/18, and jon around 20/21. their age gap may seem like a lot because of how young they are, but when you age them up just a bit it starts to make a little more sense.

hope this helps! /gen

#blogs like agentrouka istumpysk kellyvela and many more can and have said this much better than me #jonsa #anon #ask

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westeroslive · 7 months ago

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let's fight with gentle words til time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords as the court seeks the presence of their sought after.

wanted connections have been added.

𓏲ּ ֶָ 𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠𝒕𝒗 ⁝ BRANDON of house KARSTARK, the RULING LORD of KARHOLD requests the presence of their WIFE at court. their portraits seem to claire forlani , caitriona balfe , eve beste , rosamund pike , shelly conn , utp fitting fc - and whisperers among the court seem to say the following regarding their relationship: brandon is absolutely in love with his wife. from the day that he first laid eyes upon the southron lady in his younger years. they've been married for a very long time, and you can tell he his absolutely dedicated to this woman. probably the only person who can openly insult him and have nothing said to them about it. more about their dynamics and how they interact will be . you must/need not seek contact with @GOLDXNSIRENS to discover the truth behind these whispers. this particular dynamic seems to be POSITIVE in nature, and for a noble of 45+ name days it is most surprising

𓏲ּ ֶָ 𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠𝒕𝒗 ⁝ CORDELIA of house HOUSE MANDERLY, the LADY of WHITE HARBOR requests the presence of their BETROTHAL at court. their portraits seem to amar chadha patel, pedro pascal, leo suter, utp mfc - and whisperers among the court seem to say the following regarding their relationship: for most of her life, cordelia has remained unbetrothed, but as she gets older, it is not surprising that she is now, due to house manderly’s goals. this connection can really be plotted to be anything. can be neutral, toxic, positive, though i do like the idea of a ned and catelyn stark inspired dynamic. i’m really flexible. i just don’t imagine cordelia being the easiest lady to get along with. you need not seek contact with @GOLDXNSIRENS to discover the truth behind these whispers. this particular dynamic seems to be NEUTRAL in nature, and for a noble of 28+ name days it is most surprising.

2. 𓏲ּ ֶָ 𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠𝒕𝒗 ⁝ GAWAIN of house HIGHTOWER, the LORD of HIGHTOWER requests the presence of their MENTOR at court. their portraits seem to resemble utp appropriate male fcs - and whisperers among the court seem to say the following regarding their relationship: gawain was a page and squire to this muse from a young age. from the time that he was young, he looked up to this muse for the longest time. he even maintains a bit of that childish admiration today, though now their relationship has grown from just mentor/mentee and into a bit of a mature friendship. their dynamic can be plotted more later on! you need not seek contact with @goldxnsirens to discover the truth behind these whispers. this particular dynamic seems to be POSITIVE in nature, and for a noble of 35+ name days it is most surprising.

𓏲ּ ֶָ 𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠𝒕𝒗 ⁝ GAWAIN of house HOUSE HIGHTOWER, the LORD of HIGHTOWER requests the presence of their LOVER at court. their portraits seem to resemble utp fc (any gender) - and whisperers among the court seem to say the following regarding their relationship: this is a very tumultuous relationship. i'd say that these two started their relationship fairly recently, and they've already been through their shares of highs and lows, just due to the mental state of both partners. other stuff can be plotted, whether they end up as end game or something of a one who got away situation. you need not seek contact with @goldxnsirens to discover the truth behind these whispers. this particular dynamic seems to be NEUTRAL in nature, and for a noble of 25+ name days it is most surprising.

#appless rp #period rp #got rp #hotd rp #mumu rp

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seffora-merryweather · 3 years ago

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The death of Daemon Targaryen

Under the cut you will find Anya’s interactions with the group at the wine cellar: Graham Royce ( @rememberences ), Laena Targaryen ( @oldflowersbyname ), Brandon Karstark ( @wintervsuns ), Minisa Tarth ( @evenfallsbrightest ), Serwyn Merryweather ( @lordlongtable ) and Ophelia Fowler ( @opheliafowler ).

Then, the reveal Daemon’s body in the great hall. Mention of Serafina Merryweather ( @serafinamerryweather ), Sofina Allyrion ( @merryweatherrose ) and Dastan Allyrion ( @dastan-allyrion ).

A group had been gathered from the halls and brought down into one of the wine cellars of New Castle. A few lanterns illuminated the space around them, but even the flickering light could not reach all of the dark corners and turns of the room. Around them various other lords and ladies huddled against the rows of wine racks. A few choose to indulge themselves in the Manderly’s wine supply. hushed whispers happened between those that were hiding there, hoping that the guard watching the stairs and door knew what they were doing. In the hushed quiet of the room Laena Targaryen rested herself against one of the racks when an odd noise caught her attention. A laugh. strange and high-pitched coming from the other side of the rack. However, as she looked at the people around her it seemed like no one else heard the unusual noise.

SEFFORA MERRYWEATHER: Groups of people began to part in different directions and the young lady's eyes darted in all directions. “Father!” she called out and rushed to his side. Seffora was scared, of course; who wouldn't when a killer was loose? Though she was not defenseless, not anymore. A dagger was hidden in her bodice. Rhys' dagger. She feared having to use it again. Staying close to her father, she lady hid in the wine cellar with some other people, studying their faces, their demeanor. Did any of them know more than they were letting on?

GRAHAM ROYCE: The Lord of Runestone found himself locked in a wine cellar of all places; and despite his protest of wishing to join the guards in dealing with the internal attack on the castle of White Harbor, they had insisted for him to remain within the crypts for the entire group's safety. The man remained stood beside the heavy doors, listening for the sound of footsteps that sounded familiar in any way. Taking hold of a torch and passing it to Minisa, his head turned at the sound of a footsteps, indicating for the rest of the group to remain silent until whoever it was passed them by. There was a large amount of tension; and quite frankly, it sickened him.

LAENA TARGARYEN: Staying in the shadows was an expertise of laena targaryen, to be shuffled in with a group she did not know we’ll only unnerved her. That, and the fact that a strange noise, or voice, near the rack she rested on caused violet eyes to frantically dart around. Did know one notice? She didn’t say anything for fear of being seen as insane, but surely she wasn’t the only one. While others seemed to cling either to wine or people they knew, she decided to peek around and investigate, not knowing if she would come to regret this move.

BRANDON KARSTARK: The ruling Lord of Karhold stood closely to the yellow haired woman, unaware of her name or even what region she came from, and yet he noticed as the Lord of Runestone listened for footsteps, the woman seemed to be listening for something else. Narrowing his dark orbs, he crossed his arms over his torso in silent curiosity, half wondering whether the woman was on the brink of losing her mind completely. “What?” he asked, his tone perhaps too blunt and too rough for a southern lass.

MINISA TARTH: Her own father had shoved her through the door, with only a 'stay here' and 'remember the dagger' before storming off with Tarth guards, but the cold blade hidden in her dress did little to stop the rising fear in her heart. She did her best to keep her breath steady and her hands from shaking as she placed the torch handed to her in a sconce on the wall. hands freed, she wrapped them around herself and stood close to Lord Royce, listening too. “They passed...” she whispered up to Graham, afraid to have her voice any louder than a church mouse.

SERWYN MERRYWEATHER: The wine cellars were a good place to stay safe and defended, all considered, though he suspected far too many would be too drunk to defend themselves in a moment. Fools. The greatest pity was the darkness. he frowned over at Seffora, his earlier anger half-lost with the knowledge the attacker was now on the loose—perhaps with someone to set him free. “Stay close,” he told Seffora, looking around to identify who might be useful in a fight. Lord Royce, perhaps, and the Karstark lord.

OPHELIA FOWLER: Well she supposed there were worst places to be stuck in than a wine cellar. Ophelia was never one who was good at standing still. She paced back and forth along the racks of wine, hoping to fix her boredom. She stopped when she noticed another woman getting up to walk, or maybe to look at something it was hard to tell. “Antsy as well? I find walking helps when nerves are hitting you,” she said with a smile to the blonde haired woman and the northern man.

- - -

A quick movement could be seen behind the wine racks. Almost unhuman in it's speed. But it stopped suddenly, turning towards where Laena had stopped. The high pitched giggle was heard once more, this time also by those around them. A small flash of something glittery caught the light of the candles as it moved again.

- - -

SEFFORA MERRYWEATHER: Blue eyes with hints of fear met her father's and the lady nodded, trying to remain composed, appear confident and brave. She would stay close. Her eyes darted then to meet Ophelia's and there was some comfort in having a friend here as well. A healer, at that, one that could aid if things went south... She had once been one for optimism, but lately, her thoughts had a way of veering towards negative outcomes. Then a shadowy figure caught her attention and she spoke without thinking, “There's something there,” to warn the others, though perhaps accidentally bringing forth more panic to the night.

GRAHAM ROYCE: Graham briefly looked down at Minisa, silently agreeing that the footsteps had seemed to walk away; spinning on his heel he looked over to the multiple men in the room, wondering what seemed to be occuring between the Lord of Karhold and a mysterious blonde woman. Nonetheless, he claimed it was not his issue, instead focusing on Lady Merryweather leaning toward what seemed to be an uneasy shadowy figure. “It is merely a trick of the eye. Low lighting,” he spoke, though the sudden laugh made him stop dead in his tracks; he believed himself a man of reason, and yet what was going on here? “It is nothing.”

LAENA TARGARYEN: Laena didn’t realize she had been noticed as a man and young woman nearby made comments on her movements. She looked back and forth to them, unsure if she should speak truthfully, but deciding it was the only thing that would excuse her behavior. “I heard something,” she admitted, her voice lower, suddenly the shadowy movements were more apparent, and it’s haunting voice and laughter was now louder than it was initially, she couldn’t have been the only one to hear that. She gasped, quickly backing away from the rack. “Tell me you heard that now.”

BRANDON KARSTARK: Brandon Karstark stood fixed within his spot; there was no denying the inhuman sound that had danced off the walls of the room. There was no denying how much that unsettled him; for he were Northern, and they took their traditions and stories perhaps more seriously than those coming from further South. “I did.” He admitted, moving aside slightly to ensure the woman did not back straight into him. “There is something else in here with us.”

MINISA TARTH: Minisa stilled like a doe in the forest, blue eyes wide in an attempt to see better in the dark and winding shelves of the cellar, a few tenative steps took her not too far from Lord Royce's side. “It sounded like a child, but...” she'd heard plenty of stories of what fishermen and sailors heard and saw on the seas, but this wasn't some ship lost on the shivering sea. If those things existed on land to... well it did not give her much confidence. “Perhaps those of us with blades should pull them?” the glint set the Stormlander on her guard, at the very least.

- - -

A soft jingling of bells could be heard as it moved once more. “I am here. I am not here,” the voice laughed again. “Or maybe...” suddenly it seemed as if the voice was coming from another rack behind them all. “I am here.” The voice came back to the rack where it was. “Are you here dear princess? Or you my lords or ladies? Where are we?”

- - -

SERWYN MERRYWEATHER: The bells set his teeth and hair on edge, and Serwyn grabbed the shoulder of a man closest to him, stepping back in a hurry as the lordling turned around, looking frightened out of his wits. Bells; a laugh; a childlike sound. It is just a man, he reminded himself, and men can be killed. "The lady speaks right," he said, speaking over the chilling voice. “Royce, Karstark, your swords. And any other who has them. We find whoever is doing this.” He shot a warning glance to Seffora.

SEFFORA MERRYWEATHER: “No, I know what I saw,” she retorted, glancing at Lord Royce. She drew her arms close, reassuring herself, and sensing the shape of her dagger in her bodice. She felt herself tremble, frightened by the turn of events, feeling the eerie sensation of something otherwordly trapped with them. Those are just stories, she told herself, trying to forget every horrific legend she had ever read. Seffora stepped aside when her father called the men to draw their weapons and she huddled closer to the other women. Without a word, she drew her dagger from where she had been hiding it.

GRAHAM ROYCE: Graham Royce found himself just able to pick up on the taunting voice that seemed to call out from behind the crates of wine; though it did not sound like the voice of a human. It was something not of this world; and as he pulled his blade out of it's sheath and stepped forward into the light, peering into the darkness behind the casks of wine, he found himself attempting to work out just what it was he was aiming his sword out. The sound of the voice ... The direction. With that, he stepped closer in an attempt to shed light, his blade extended directly in front of him so whatever it was would lunge directly into the blade.

LAENA TARGARYEN: The reactions and words from those around the room made it clear as to what they heard now. There was only a momentary sigh of relief, before it dawned on her what the voice addressed her as. How could it now? She thanked the gods the dim light likely his the paling of her face, and she prayed no one took the words spoken to heart. They could easily be speaking to anyone. Laena moved further back behind the Lord Karstark and waited for what they would do next.

- - -

“Oooo yes yes! Everyone get their weapons ready” the voice was gleeful, jumping up and down. The bells jingled as he clapped along. “Yes, who are we killing this time, hmmm? Maybe a family member? A friend. Who will it be? Eenie meenie miney mo.” The glow of his blue eyes could be eyes looking at Brandon. A feeling would overcome him, frozen in place by just a glance of his eyes. out of fear? No, something much worse. “Tell me my lord. What do you fear the most?”

- - -

BRANDON KARSTARK: Brandon found himself looking directly in the eyes of the jester; a clapping jester, who was twisted in image. And yet he found himself unable to speak anything but the truth; regardless of how much he screamed at himself internally not to. This ... thing, spoke as though it were well aquatinted with playing this sick game. “The living dead,” Brandon replied, his tone dark; stories he had been told as a child matching up strangely with stories now from the crows on the wall, as well as whatever twisted patterns were being made.

MINISA TARTH: She could feel the form of her blade, once her brother's, pressed against her. Should she follow her own suggestion and pull it, when this creature before them seemed to be able to command some sort of control over whoever they pleased? And the poor Northern lord was now subject to it and it's whims. “Leave him be!” she scolded, living up to the Stormlander stereotype of being too brave for their own good.

SERWYN MERRYWEATHER: The sight of the Karstark lord answering the fool such a question, and in the sight of all around them, brought chills to him. “Quiet, man,” he told him, before turning wildly to look at the woman besides Graham Royce, scolding the creature as though he were a man and not—whatever this creature was, with his glowing blue eyes. “Do not speak to the creature,” he told the lady, and drew his sword into the light, gesturing for Royce to do the same.

- - -

The blue eyes narrowed as the Stormlander spoke up against him. However it moved over towards the other man that spoke. His gaze locking them both in place. “What would you do if I gave you a knife and I told you to kill one of your family. Who would you pick?” the jester said smiling at them.

- - -

GRAHAM ROYCE: The Lord of Runestone almost laughed, though his laughter was twinged with sorrow; he spoke as though the man had a multitude of family members left, and yet there was only one. The grief at the recent death of his brother seemed to rise to the surface, though as the sick creature smiled at him, he tore his eyes away. Ignore it, and write it off in the morning. “Why kill?” He asked, wondering what would occur if he questioned the jester; could he throw him off?

LAENA TARGARYEN: Laena turned to the person who dared answer the voice that seemed to shock everyone else to silence. There was a sort of pained look in his eyes, fleeting, but there. A look she would recognize as grief. The question, she wouldn’t dare answer directly. “I wouldn’t even take the knife.” She spoke plainly, wondering, too, if challenging the voice might ire it enough to bring it to the light, and hopefully meet its demise.

MINISA TARTH: While others spoke with their own opinions, it was Minisa stuck in place, and fixed so as she was made the panic she was so hard trying to repress come forward in full effect. Tears streamed down her face as her breath shallowed and sped up. “Myself.” Her voice was tight and full of fear. “I couldn't bear the loss...” once admitted, when she was free, the sapphire of Tarth fell to her knees, trying to find something to anchor her and failing.

SERWYN MERRYWEATHER: The jester's gaze held him like a vice, keeping him trapped. Whatever lie or evasion he may wish to offer disappeared in the face of this creature, leaving only a truth compelled from his tongue. “I have sworn to defend my family, so would kill any who wielded a blade 'gainst them, even myself,” he said, and found himself relieved with his own response. As the chokehold of the spectre's gaze lifted with the truth, Serwyn shot a fearful look toward Seffora, hoping to indicate that she stay quiet, lest the fool catch her next.

SEFFORA MERRYWEATHER: The lady caught her father's eyes and understood his meaning, remaining silent. Despite not uttering a single word, the spectral voice addressed her next. “The lady already holds a knife,” the voice said, “A knife she has used before”. Had it truly spoken to her, and was she only imagining things? Seffora's eyes shut tightly and she shook her head, refusing to have this being reflect her guilt back to her. “Not my family,” she muttered to herself, “I would never raise a blade against my family”. She let out a shaky, fearful breath, “Not my family”.

- - -

The Great Hall

( TW: death, blood, gore )

It seemed the killer had disappeared into the shadows of the night. The only trace of him left behind was the trail of bodies he left in his wake. It seemed that whoever got in his way met their demise at the end of his sword. Everyone had been gathered within the great hall, waiting for answers as to what happened.

Outside the guards rushed in the dark to try and track down where the man could have gone, and to be sure the castle was completely clear before they allowed people out of their hiding places.

One group of guards walked together through the dark, all made up from different kingdoms. But they stuck close by one another for safety. They were checking the perimeter of the castle, to be sure the outside was clear.

The loud steps of rushed footsteps began to be heard in the dark, getting louder and louder and louder. In the edge of the torch light they could see it was another guard running towards them. Within arm reach of the group the man tripped stumbling to the ground. They rushed to help pick up him.

The light now illuminating the horror that was on the man’s face. Fear radiated out of his gaze as he looked up at them. clinging to them like a child to their mother. Afraid to let go out. “The tree…the tree.” the man muttered out to them.

The eldest guard of the group glanced down the path, knowing it lead to the weirwood tree. he took a step to move down the path but was stopped by the fearful man, clutching his arm. “No! don’t go there. Listen to me. Do not go.” The older guard scoffed at him. “Where is your courage boy?” he said shaking him off.

How he wished he listened to him.

It was a horror to see. All that blood. All those bodies lined up in patterns on the ground. How one man could do all of this work so quickly he could not understand. Despite the state the bodies were in he could see people and markings from all the kingdoms. One for each new kingdom. Red soaked the freshly fallen snow like it was leaking out of the tree itself. It seemed to pool under his foot as he took another step closer. In the middle of it all was a familiar face.

King Daemon Targaryen laid against the trunk of the tree. His head tilted back as if he was looking up at the stary night sky. His face almost looked peaceful as he looked up into the branches. Strands of his white hair spilling onto his face. His chest however had been split open to reveal his insides. Clutched in his hand was his own heart as if he was presenting it to the older guard who walked into the scene. In the other hand, he held a strange jagged black dagger made of dragonglass. Above him a piece of parchment was nailed to the tree, a message crudely written on it. “Fire and blood means nothing in the darkness of ice.”

Thirty minutes went by as people waited until a loud knock was heard on the great hall door. dozens of guards flooded inside checking to make sure everyone was okay. and behind them a man covered in a white sheet was brought inside. one of the guards looked through the crowd until the spotted the targaryen princess. “Your highness….” the man said taking off his helmet. “Please sit down.”

- - -

SEFFORA MERRYWEATHER: Seffora turned to her father’s shoulder, averting her eyes from the corpse of the dragon king. She shut her eyes, wishing the image to vanish from her mind. She couldn’t, not when she heard the cries of the king’s sisters, the heartbreaking whispers of his wife as she was led away. Her breath and heartbeat quickened, the fear too real and palpable. She opened her eyes and looked at her father, she then looked to see her sisters and her brother-in-law. She knew she would never be able to bear the pain of losing them… and the North kept taking and taking people away.

#event: the death of daemon targaryen #oopsie; i forgot to post this in most of my blogs...

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anya-snow · 3 years ago

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The death of Daemon Targaryen

Under the cut you will find Anya’s interactions with the group at the library: Serafina Merryweather ( @serafinamerryweather ), Caerella Targaryen ( @caetargaryen ), Ravella Arryn ( @ravellaarryns ) and Daenaera Umber ( @daenaeraumber ).

Then, the reveal Daemon’s body in the great hall. Mention of Brandon Karstark ( @wintervsuns ), Mathis Rowan ( @ofgoldengrove ), the Stark siblings ( @starkwhitewolf & @edricxstark ), Jaehaerys Targaryen ( @wcrdsarewind ) and Nelaena Targaryen ( @nelaenatargaryen ).

The Manderly’s library was large. Rows of books and tomes lined the room with several tables and chair ready to welcome anyone who wished to enjoy all the knowledge inside. The stainedglass windows tinted parts of the room with a blue glow as the light from the full moon streamed through the windows. All was quiet inside as lords and ladies huddled together. One lady from the Stormlands started to awake from the unconscious state the guard found her in, her soft mumbling breaking the silence. Reaching out she grabbed onto the skirts of Ravella Arryn walking by. “My child…where is my child. You have her. Where is she?”

SERAFINA MERRYWEATHER: Soft mumblings break the silence in the libraary and all watch as a Stormlander lady clutches to the nearest body, asking for her child and pawing at the lady's dress helplessly. Serafina rolls her eyes, repressing the harsh reply she really wants to give to the woman's pleas. Instead of letting her irritation get the better of her she steps closer, taking on a placating tone. “That's not your child. We don't know where she is. Maybe if you described her to use we could find her.” she turns to the other women in the room. “We'll help you find her” she repeats. it's the only way she'll calm down enough to be useful she hopes the look she directs towards the others says.

CAERELLA TARGARYEN: This feels like that night at Dragonstone all over again. It makes her skin crawl and her heart hammers away in her chest. She's so caught up in her own thoughts she doesn't really even notice what the hell is going on with this Stormlander woman. “What?” the silver-haired woman looks up. “We can't be running around look for a child right now!”

RAVELLA ARRYN: The Arryn princess had barely taken any notice of the women on the floor, looking over the bundles of velvet that had suddenly seemed to move. As she stood up against the door, pounding upon the door as though she were insulted at the prospect of even being locked up in some dusty library. She looked down at a familiar voice to the sound of Caerella Targaryen, and could almost let out a groan at the mere sight of her, wondering what hysteria the woman would find herself wrapped in when she felt somene tugging on her skirts. Reaching down and yanking her skirts from the woman's hands, she looked at her in silent disgust, completely ignoring her plea for help regarding her lost child. “Where is your great lizard when you need it, Caerella?" she called out to the silver haired woman, increasingly irritated as the woman continued to ramble about her missing child.

ANYA SNOW: Anya remained somewhat separated from the group. Lords and ladies and Northern guards were huddled in there, and the bastard blacksmith felt strangely uneasy. Somehow the concerns of a woman over her missing child were turned into jabs amongst nobles and the blacksmith suppressed any urge to roll her eyes or show open disdain. She may have nothing in common with all of the people locked in the library, but she could understand the concern over a family member. “M'lady,” she addressed the lady of the Stormlands, “your daughter is likely safe. Everyone was led to a safe area”. Her tone may not have been warm, but it was sincere. “Where did you see her last?” she asked, echoing the sentiment of the Merryweather lady in trying to do something to help find the girl.

SERAFINA MERRYWEATHER: Finally someone with a sensible mind, Serafina thought. Whilst everyone else was busy bickering and taking jabs at least the raven haired girl was helping move the conversation along. Only Serafina wasn't sure the lady of the Stormlands was in her right mind, there was always a chance for her response to be woefully unhelpful, even incoherent. She waited with baited breath and just as she feared the woman muttered a panicked “I don't know. I don't remember.” She crouched down next to her taking the lady's hand in both of hers. “You might have hurt your head when you fell. Maybe that's why you can't remember. This castle is safe though if your daughter has gone somewhere it couldn't have been far. Maybe the guards have already found her.” she hazarded, looking to Anya for reassurance.

CAERELLA TARGARYEN: “You wound me, princess...” Caerella replies sarcastically. One day Silverwing will be strong again and the Targaryens will show all of Westeros just how fearsome they can be. Her attention then turns to the panicked woman and those who are choosing to attend to her. “Precisely, she must've hit her head... perhaps there's no child at all. Either way, we don't have time for this." the silver-haired woman sighs, leaning against a bookshelf.

DAENAERA UMBER: “I think a woman knows if she has a child or not,” Daenaera blurted out, a statement that was out of character for her. She was the type to always stay in the background, letting others handle whatever business was at hand. But the current circumstances were making her fearful, and being a mother had triggered such a reaction in her. She was even thinking about her own children now. “I think we should try to help her calm down,” she added, her tone softening. Daenaera sincerely hoped that her Targaryen cousin had not found her previous statement offensive. “It's not as if we're short on time right now.”

RAVELLA ARRYN: Ravella's icy orbs fixed upon Daenaera for a moment; in truth it was not a face she recognised, and yet her exclamation had caught her brief attention - or rather, irritation. “What is stopping you then?" She questioned directly, looking over the woman as if to question why it was the woman was still stood here conversing with them. “Go on.” She spoke, turning her back upon the woman once again as she continued to pound upon the door of the library, before falling quiet at the sound of passing footsteps; though it sounded as though it were merely guards urging them to be quiet.

- - -

“My child please.” the woman said clutching onto whoever was close by. She sat up from the ground. “I saw her in the halls. we were going out to the courtyard, down the hall. please someone has to get her.” the woman was desperate as she looked around at the room full of other woman. “Someone has to help me.”

- - -

ANYA SNOW: Anya felt some support from Lady Serafina and was grateful that at least one of these highborns was more intent on solving the situation, aiding the distraught woman, than have a match of pride or might of their respective houses. “Time is all we have for now, m'lady,” the blacksmith dared to say as she looked towards the Targaryen woman and then towards the Vale princess. They would be locked in here for hours, surely; they had time to spare. “But wasting it with squabbles will do good to no one,” she added, forcing a polite nod for both royals. The Nothern bastard was in agreement with Daenaera, not being one to doubt if there was a daughter or not. The woman's anguish was real, after all.

- - -

The Great Hall

( TW: death, blood, gore )

Outside the guards rushed in the dark to try and track down where the man could have gone, and to be sure the castle was completely clear before they allowed people out of their hiding places.

How he wished he listened to him.

- - -

ANYA SNOW: The blacksmith had seen plenty of death due to the time spent in the camps after a battle. Not once had she felt as haunted by an image as that of Daemon Targaryen’s dead body, his innards pouring out of his body, his own heart clutched in his hand, like the image of a brutal rite none of the people present fully understood. Anya’s eyes scanned the crowd, verifying that those dear to her heart were well. Brandon. The Stark siblings. Mathis. Jae. Nelaena. She searched for her friends, and was silently grateful that her father was safe away in Winter Town, that she didn’t have family to fret over —and lose— as chaos and darkness settled upon all of them.

#event: the death of daemon targaryen

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theladymeera · 5 years ago

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7 15 and 19 for the arya ask !

Alright!

7. what’s an arya quote that you like and why?

Sorry I’m not breaking out my books tonight. “I am a direwolf and done with wooden teeth” always hits hard.

15. your ideal king and/or queen in the north. bonus: cast their council

I’m going to take this moment to remind everyone that the small council is an invention of Aegon I Targaryen, the Conqueror. It is not a tradition practiced by any of the former kings of westeros prior to Aegon’s Conquest. So I’m not going to be fitting these councilors into Targaryen-invented roles.

Ideal: Daenerys “Stormborn” Targaryen, Queen Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms, First of Her Name, Queen of All Westeros, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Queen of Meereen, Breaker of Chains,… and Mother of Dragons.

Option two: Brandon Stark, the Winged Wolf, King in the North, Lord of Winterfell, Permanent Little Brother of Arya Stark (Arya adds that part whenever she announces him).

His queen consort: Meera Reed.

His council: Arya Stark, Howland Reed, Alys Karstark or Sigorn of Thenn, Alysane or Lyanna Mormont, Wynafryd Manderly… after that it gets a little less clear since I’ve got no clue who’s going to survive TWFTD so I’m expecting there to be a lot more women in positions of power, a lot of young people in power, and for there to be some significant changes in the rights of monarchy/lords and the rights of the smallfolk. Will the wall fall? (probably) If so, how will the former wildlings interact with or be integrated into the North? How will the landscape be changed by the war? (will Bran use magic to create a new physical barrier in the way that the Neck was created according to lore? Will he have to construct a new wall?) I do expect Bran and Arya to pull through and end up in positions of power and Bran ruling Winterfell is one of the most strongly foreshadowed outcomes.

19. you get to blow the mind of a wandering medieval person. what from our world would you show them?

There’s so many options! Take them to a rock concert (can’t, I have really sensitive hearing and and claustrophobia - being in a crowd larger than ~10 people triggers a panic response), go on a roadtrip to some generic modern places like a dairy factory, drive through a small town, stop at some local sites, check out some silos, tour a national park, sorry I’m limited to what roadtrips in the west look like. Hmmm... what would a medieval, presumably European, person be shocked by really? Flushing toilets, planes, the incredible amount of printed material we have? The internet? The lack of horses? How many clothes we have? I’m tempted to go rewatch Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure.

#danielle answers asks #ask games #aryasbadbenergy #sorry that took so long

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gwidhiel · 4 years ago

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I too would prefer to see Arya be the one to kill Dany, and I also find the Man-Must-Kill-Lover trope to be distasteful. But I think the small council scene that @fedonciadale mentions above may be significant foreshadowing not only due to Littlefinger’s comment (which, yes) but also because in that discussion Ned is adamant that killing a defenseless girl is a line he will not cross. Ned had a deep-seated tendency to underestimate the threat that a woman could pose (which is interesting, given how very competent his wife was, and we know that his sister had possessed enough fighting skills to win a joust). In Ned’s defense, Dany didn’t yet have dragons when the small council discussed sending an assassin after her; perhaps even he would have appreciated the threat posed by a Targaryen teen with three living dragons.

But Jon will certainly be aware of how dangerous Dany is when they meet. Ned is Jon’s north star role model, and I’d argue that Jon’s story arc is about arriving at a nuanced, adult understanding of who Ned really was and why he did the things he did. Sometimes that will allow Jon to fully embrace Ned’s ways, but he’ll also at times need to reject Ned’s approach. Even as an adult Ned’s understanding of women seems to have been a bit juvenile and romantic; he didn’t feel entitled to their bodies and affection the way someone like Robert (and possibly Ned’s older brother Brandon) had been, which is refreshing. But he did still have a pretty clichéd understanding of what made feminine-presenting women tick, e.g. when he gave Sansa a doll or when he assumed that getting herself and her children to safety would be Cersei’s abiding concern when threatened with exposure of her incest and her children’s bastardy.

Jon started out with a similarly naive and distanced understanding of women. He too harbors romantic sentiments about women. But we’ve already seen him shedding some of his childish views - some of that the result of circumstances (Ned was never in the power of a woman who forced herself on him sexually, as Jon was with Ygritte), and some of that is due to Jon’s observational insight as he interacted with women like Selyse and Val. So far in the books Jon has already stopped applying a stereotyped view to women; he likes Alys Karstark and wants to help her, while he views Selyse with disdain. So far Jon has drawn the line at wielding physical violence against a woman (let alone killing her), but part of his journey to fully abandoning the boy might well involve killing a dangerous woman.

Is their any foreshadowing abt Jon killing Dany in books too? Bcs most shippers think its D&Ds invention. But as a Jon fan , who doesnt like the ship, I think foreshadowing used to prove it is definitely negative and want to know if he will kill her off in books too or just betray her

Hi there!

I'm not sure to be honest. The fact that Jon will not be into her that he is her betrayal for love is all over the place, but will he kill her?

You could argue in favour of that. The strongest foreshadowing would be the discussion in the Small Council in AGOT in Eddard VIII. They discuss sending an assassin after Dany and Littlefinger suggests something along the lines to kiss the ugly girl you find yourself in bed with - with a 'steel kiss'. That could point towards Jon killing her with a dagger after they were in a relationship.

There are also the narrative trajectories of what Jon needs to do. So far he has shied from killing women and the narrative pushes him towards all kind of dishonourable acts and killing a woman might be the last one.

On the other hand there is also plenty of foreshadowing that Arya might be the one to kill Dany and before season 8 aired I was quite certain that Arya would be Dany's killer.

I looked at the foreshadowing connected with mud (a longish meta) and since Arya has the closest connection to mud and mud is super dangerous to Dany I thought it will be her.

There is also a scene in 'Fire and Blood' that speaks about an assassin who might have been a faceless man but who also might have been just a girl and this also points towards Arya as Dany's killer.

I think Arya would be more satisfying : a) because I hate the trope: Man has to kill the woman he slept with and b) Jon would big become a kinslayer and c) it would mean that Arya becoming an assassin would actually make sense (remember there is no Night King in the books). Also the Small Council talks about hiring a faceless man to kill Dany in the first book. They just don't do it because it's too expensive.

Arya doing this for Jon would also mean that all the sacrifices Jon did for the Starks have a pay off.

So, all in all, I tend to believe that it might be Arya's task. But I'm not sure. I would most certainly prefer that.

On the other hand the foreshadowing for Jon killing and not only betraying Dany might not be that strong but there is some and we know that GRRM told D&D the ending.

The only thing I am certain about is that Dany will burn King's Landing and that she will be killed by a Stark and that Jon will betray her. The foreshadowing for these are all over the place.

Thanks for the ask!

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warheroics-blog · 8 years ago

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Belinda’s Blog Cleanup 2017

As many many know, I have way too many blogs than I can really keep up with, and in the next few months and perhaps years, it will get even harder to try and keep active on everything. My attempts to try and keep up coupled with busy real life has just not mixed well and it’s effecting my ability to be active.

Because of this, I had to force myself to make the decision to close down and archive some of my blogs and really dramatically cut down the number of blogs I actually could really be active on so I can properly devote myself to everyone I’m RPing with.

With that said, here’s how things will go from here. The blogs below are grouped into three different sections:

The Active section will consist of blogs that I will be devoting the majority of my time on.

The Semi-Active | Low Activity section will consist of blogs that I will occasionally go on when the muse finds me, these are blogs that I’m not yet willing to part with because there are still people that I’ve promised interactions to - usually one or two people on each of those blogs that I still have threads with that I will continue to do when I can.

The Closed | Archived section will consist of all the blogs that from this point on will no longer be active, they are finished and the blogs will now exist as archives.

Hopefully with this clean up, it will make things a lot easier for me to keep up with and won’t run me ragged.

------------------------------------

ACTIVE (7)

Theseus Scamander (Fantastic Beasts/HP) - @warheroics

Alfred Pennyworth (Gotham) - @waynesprotector

Sebastian Rivers (ASOIAF/GOT) - @dutyandhcnor

Lothar Karstark (ASOIAF/GOT) - @thebcneless

Jon Solo (Star Wars) - @greatpxwer

Davits Draven (Star Wars) - @allianceintel

Magnus of Mercia (Vikings) - blog incoming

SEMI-ACTIVE | LOW ACTIVITY (9)

Harley Keener (MCU) - @starkconnected

Isaac Hughes-Stark (MCU) - @osirisrebcrn

Percival Graves (Fantastic Beasts/HP) - @gravefate

Magnus Graves (Fantastic Beasts/HP) - @immcvable

Brand of Dale (LOTR/Hobbit) - @martyrxdking

Brandon Snow (ASOIAF/GOT) - @northernseer

Gryff Whitehill (ASOIAF/GOT/TTGOT) - @sxmethingtoprxve

Ashley Stubbs (Westworld) - @galifuckinleo

Hel Greyback (Fantastic Beasts/HP) - @hxllhxund

CLOSED | ARCHIVED (9)

Sam Chisolm (Magnificent Seven) - @dulysworn

Cole Rogers-Stark (MCU/Marvel Comics) - @starkspangledjunior

Jack Thompson II (MCU) - @thompsonlegacy

Sam Kirk (Star Trek) - @firstbornkirk

Lorian (Star Trek) - @cptnlorian

Rickon Stark (ASOIAF/GOT) - @wildandfierce

Snap Wexley (Star Wars) - @snappyrecon

Mattia Solo (Star Wars) - @flawlessincompetency

Gareth Mallory (James Bond) - @lxngmayhereign

#away from my desk (ooc)#I really needed to do this clean up #my sanity was going haywire

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wintervsuns · 2 years ago

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who: @wcrdsarewind where: the apartments of the hand of the king, the castle of winterfell when: over the time skip

♞

The Small Council meeting had come to an end upon the announcement of the Hand's travels further South, further South than he thought he would be returning so very soon following their long awaited return to the snow kissed lands of the North. The Dragon's Pit called in the name that was Kings Landing, and all the might that stood alongside it; a vision had been set out for the North that went beyond the likes of mere survival.

They wanted to thrive, they wanted to excel in ways that the other Kingdoms had been able to do; they had learned how to survive the winter, they had learned how to master the winter, and now it was time they focused on life itself rather than mere survival.

Grey orbs looked up across the table towards the Master of Coin; the ruling Lord of the Dreadfort was an interesting man, to say the least. A man who seemed permanently dead behind the eyes, though seemed to have matters he seemed to care much for; were they glimpses of sun piercing through something he would never truly fathom or understand? They were of different houses, the Karstarks remaining in a steadfast, ancient bond tied with the Starks of Winterfell - and though the days of old grudges and anger were long over and the Starks were truly the only Kings of the North, it was the difference in life itself that caused a difference between the men.

He would call it a line along the snow - but it was the wall itself. They worked together, and Brandon Karstark was cordial to a fellow servant of the realm and the rightful King of the North; Domeric had been one of the people to think of a different path for the North, and it was Brandon who held the personable skills in order to perhaps make it happen. In the end, that was all they were, and that was all they would ever be.

And so, upon hearing his betrothed casually bring up reference to the ruling Lord of the Dreadfort in her interactions with him, the Hand of the King had barely made any response that was not one of civility; he understood they had shared a dynamic in which they both perhaps felt like social outcasts. Continued in this manner was what Brandon had done, until he saw a brief look within the eyes of the Dreadfort himself, like the flicker of a candle - looking towards the Lady of Greywater Watch.

What was it? Whatever it was within the orbs of Domeric Bolton, Brandon Karstark had never tried to understand it. Only, he would not have it slowly drifting to the woman that would join his household, the woman that would take the name Lady of House Karstark.

"My Lord." Brandon spoke, noting the man to the only man left in the Council Chamber aside from himself, the shadows on the wall flickering as a result of candles being lit. The cold never bothered him, and yet, the idea of leaving with this man continuing to look upon her in such a way...he had never seen more than a flicker, a glimpse. And yet, what he saw, he did not like. He protected those he cared for, those he considered part of his own; by blood, or by sacred union.

"Is there an issue with your eyes the Maester has yet to speak of?" He asked, closing a ledger book with a heavy thump, some dust coming from the ledgers that would be placed back within the archives of Winterfell's records itself. “Or do you feel the need to look at my betrothed as though you wish to make something of her?”

#c: domeric #domeric 001 #oops

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daceystvrk · 4 months ago

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dacey nodded her head. despite maisie's reassurance, she did not find herself much assured. but then, that was always the way with the princess. she thought too much, running through interactions again and again in her mind until she convinced herself she had made a horrible impression, that the person she was speaking with hated her guts. there was very few that she ever felt at ease with, and that was more true than ever when she found herself away from the north. whilst it was true that her home had been torn apart by war, only now beginning to rebuild, she still felt safer there than anywhere else.

"your cousin?" at that, dacey's gaze shot to maisie's face. she did not speak, much, about the divisions that were beginning to make themselves obvious. the eight, the loyallists, and the true north, the latter of which worried her the most. the whole thing made her nervous, and there was nothing she wanted more than to bury her head in the snow and pretend all was well, but that was proving more difficult by the day. had maisie herself picked a side? was that what she wanted to discuss? dacey did not know, and did not ask. neither did she offer the information that she herself had spoken to brandon karstark on the matter. that felt much too private. "of course." she said, instead. "we must all keep family close."

what was easier to answer was the question of whether she enjoyed her time in the west. to that, dacey let out a weary sigh. "i enjoyed lann's day." she admitted. "the festival. it was... more amusing than i expected. and the lion's tor was a beautiful place. peaceful." the rest of her time in the west, she had less kind words for. "but i must admit, i am not at ease here, and eager to return home. as for what happened to that poor woman..." the sight of alicent hightower being pierced with an arrow and struck by a horse lingered in her mind. "i wish i had not seen it."

Maisie Mormont was still getting used to all the excitement that was the West. In fact, many things were different from the North; especially the people and their attitudes. A little more daring, more... open. At least in his opinion, but the young woman couldn't be considered a reference either; she'd only left Bear Island a handful of times that she could be considered a baby in this world, despite her age.

His eyes had taken in everything different there, but above all he had observed the behavior of the lords throughout the event. How the conversations looked like business, how the little activities looked like competitions. How everything was a way of imposing their names, it was funny, Maisie had to admit, at another time, she would undoubtedly enjoy the whole situation more; she would allow herself to have a bit of fun instead of all her exhibitionist posing and thoughtful interactions — she wanted to be seen, admired and also arouse any kind of interest she could. She needed to make herself known.

But at the moment, Lady Mormont's footsteps were taking her to the most relaxing place in the whole of the west: Princess Dacey's premises, someone she could call a friend, or something close to it. As she entered the room, she saw the princess in the midst of the bustle of tidying up. ❛❛Princess Dacey❜❜ a big smile appears on Maisie's face, ❛❛No need to apologize, I was in the middle of a mess myself earlier❜❜ She speaks to reassure the princess ❛❛I'll probably go with my cousins, I need to have a chat with my cousin about everything that's going on in the North❜❜ Mormont's lips twitch as he recalls the conflicts that have been going on ❛❛But what about you, are you okay? Have you managed to have some fun here?❜❜

#✧ interaction ╱ maisie mormont

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wintervsuns · 7 months ago

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who: @daceystvrk when and where: kings landing, brandon karstark enters the main gathering hall allocated for the northern court to find a tense, stressed atmosphere. within the middle of the hall is princess dacey stark.

the king's road would be a long journey, venturing through the length of the continent; and yet, the northern court within kings landing had been busying itself. there was a constant bustle of movement in the preparation to depart, for the hour of the wolf had come to an end - northmen did not belong in the south, and each time they did venture south, it was made abundantly clear why they were not supposed to be here.

loyally dedicated men who fought black now looked upon the green dragons, and there was noticeable tension in the air.

"something's off." brandon walked into the room alongside his brother, surrounded by the squires and other men of houses karstark and reed alike: at first glance it appeared as though the hall was just bustling and busy, and yet a second glance revealed more about the situation at hand. there was an issue, it was apparent in the faces of the servants, the way nasir manderly was giving orders to multiple men that surrounded him, and close to him stood the princess dacey stark; he thought of their last interaction and hoped she had not dabbled in what it was he had advised her against.

his brother stepped forward into the crowds, pushing through to enquire from the manderlys about what was happening; there were multiple people lined up giving their statements, as though they were being questioned. the king in the north was nowhere to be seen: though something told him that matter was only more pressing. more of a concern.

brandon himself did not step forward to speak, silently watching his brother instead: and yet, when a familiar gaze turned and looked upon him, he only lowered his head in a show of respect.

it took a moment of hesitation, a moment of wondering whether he ought to even wonder about such a thing: but he followed in the footsteps of his younger brother, parting through the crowds as he approached the princess of the north. the closer he got, the more obvious it was that she was greatly concerned about something. his mind immediately jumped to alysanne, and he felt his stomach twist. "highness." he greeted, his tone weary. trying to read between the lines.

brandon was never good at reading between the lines. had they found alysanne?

#c: dacey #dacey 002

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daceystvrk · 6 months ago

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a small part of dacey hoped that brandon would confirm that he knew exactly where saoirse was. that this was all a big misunderstanding, and he would take her to her sister, and things would slowly begin to return to normal - or as normal as they could be, given everything else that had happened since their arrival. they would return home, and she would hold her sister close and repair the distance that had festered between them over the years. in their childhood, dacey and saoirse had been near inseparable. the younger sister's fostering in the riverlands had put an end to that, and now, she hated herself for not doing more. why hadn't she done more?

she took a shaky breath, an attempt to steady herself, return her voice to its usual cadence, but it had little effect. when she spoke again, her voice cracked, pitching unnaturally. "saoirse's rooms were empty this morning. it seems she is not in the tower." dacey had always been private with her emotions. she bore her grief and worry and melancholy quietly, away from prying eyes, but there was no hiding it now. later, perhaps, she would be embarrassed by herself, her lack of self-control. right now, though, her own shame was the furthest thing from her mind.

brandon's line of questioning was logical. "a hunting party?" she repeated, half a mutter, allowing herself a moment to ponder the thought. but then, surely her departure would have been seen? somebody would have noticed a princess of the north, would they not? "perhaps? i'm not sure. nobody has mentioned it to me, but perhaps lord manderly..." she broke off, for even in her distress, she was sensitive to the fact that this may be a sore subject for brandon.

her dark eyes met his, and she nodded her head a little. in a way, it was comforting to know that saoirse had been seen so recently. there was only a few hours between her disappearance and the search. "i could not remember the last time i saw her," she confessed, diverting her eyes to look at her ruined hands. she felt like she had failed her little sister. saoirse could be anywhere, dead, alive, in trouble, or simply exploring, unaware of the trouble she had caused. dacey didn't know, but she should.

there was another element to her guilt, one perhaps only brandon could understand. their last conversation hung heavily on her mind, though she had kept what they had discussed to herself. she believed that divulging what he had shared with her would only cause her family further heartache. now, she couldn't help but wonder if her two sister's disappearances were linked - and if they were, could she have prevented all of this? was it her fault?

"we don't know if it's connected to alysanne."

♞

the words that seemed to come tumbling from the lips of the princess who stood before him were words that caused his hands to fall on either side, almost as though there was a blow of defeat he were now dealing with at hearing such a thing: because it meant something was terribly wrong. alysanne's matter was on alysanne, and he thought it was supposed to be focused only on her - she who had taken part in such rituals and practices, and now faced the consequences of lore that ran too deep even for her to understand. but the other princess?

there was no reason for the other to be impacted and to have gone missing too, especially considering her hands had not touched such things?

or had they? was there something he was missing? had both sisters been involved in the matter. "...what?" brandon spoke, his voice ringing a sense of numbing shock that had not been heard since he had been told news of his wife's murder. of her butchering. this was not of his own, and yet, he began to feel as though something nefarious was happening. or, was it a guise of something entirely natural using the chaos of all that had happened to their advantage? there was a level of informality that came in his voice, a striking contrast to their last conversation where he had maintained such boundaries - as she had too. "what you mean?"

brandon knew what she meant, and yet, the thought in itself was enough to cause genuine discomfort to come over him. his grey orbs flickered over the various other northern faces in the hall, some of whom seemed as upset and disturbed as the princess, and others who appeared afraid, looking over their shoulder. "there was a hunting party that left this morning." and there were multiple people going missing from kings landing - from the dornish to the north. were they all connected? they could not have all been connected. unless there was something darker going on here. "are we sure she did not leave with them?"

they would need to leave, was his own take on the matter; gods knew he would tell aleksander he thought it best to return north. some would wish to remain to search, and yet, it was clear this was no place for them. what made him the most uneasy was the fact not once did thought of the dragon king cross his mind, not once did he put it down to him. he only thought of the sight of the woods that night, and the sounds of the chanting. he would need to speak to someone.

"i saw her yesterday during the feast." brandon offered words of attempted comfort; the night where the majority of the northern court gathered together in the great hall allocated to them within kings landing, the tensions and fractures obvious in the air. there was a lack of spirit, and of joy; the king was an increasing drunk, it appeared, and the manderlys found themselves stepping further and further into the light of power. "i don't remember how many times…did she not leave before us all?"

#✧ interaction ╱ brandon karstark

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benblvckwood · 4 months ago

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ben bid goodbye to the lannister princess, and made his exit from the dancefloor as fast as he could. his displeasure at the match was for one reason, and one reason only - it wounded his pride to dance with someone who matched him in height, and he wasn't sure if it was that, or his own self-consciousness that had made the dance such a disaster.

but if asked, he would say it was the former.

and so, when brandon karstark's distinctive voice met his ears, ben turned, and that was exactly what she did. "not my fault. fucking giant of a woman," he grumbled. it was a slight exaggeration - whilst the princess was tall, she was not exceedingly so. it was just that ben was not, could never be, considered a tall man himself.

but when his eyes met brandon's, the man who had been a friend and a mentor in times when ben had needed it most, he was smiling.

he nodded his assent, eager to spend time in the company of the northman. he had heard many tales from their neighbouring kingdom, one ruled by his own cousin, and it would be a lie to say that the misfortunes of stark and karstark alike did not cause a knot of concern to make an appearance in his stomach. and yet, ben had never been a man to give into emotion. the boy who had cried upon seeing the bodies of the dead was long buried himself, replaced by something else entirely, though his shade made itself known from time to time. "shall we go outside? it's stuffy in here." and he inclined his head to the open doorways, where the light of the bonfires could be seen in the near distance.

"nobody likes the freys," he waved a hand dismissively. "so aleks is in good company there. if they want to make a show of themselves, though, send word. we can soon send some blackwood men to poke at them from the south." and so it always was with ben - ever the commander, thinking of war in times of peace. it came as natural to him as breathing.

who: @benblvckwood when and where: lann's day

he was not intending on finding something to laugh about what it came to the matter of benjicot blackwood, or benny as he was more commonly called amongst those who loved and knew him the most: and yet, the sight of him somehow ending up paired with a golden-haired princess of the west who appeared taller than him in some lights was enough to cause a slight bark of laughter to be engulfed by the countless amounts of ale that seemed to fill his goblet.

“fuckin’ hell man, next time you choose to dance ‘least give me a warnin’ to look away.”

what a sight of sore eyes indeed, considering the ruling lord of raventree hall appeared displeased with the match: gods knew why, it were hardly like the lannister princess was an ugly woman. brandon karstark’s arms remained rested across his torso, borderline lazily, as though he tried to focus on avoiding the seemingly growing amount of tensions within the northern court. the true north, they whispered of it; and as much as he detested the catalyst being his detangling with his closest friend, a part of him knew it would be a long time coming. “come ‘ere, it’s about time i caught up the benny blackwood himself.”

a part of him knew of the reasoning, and would it resulted in. still, he had little idea of how to process all the thoughts that seemed to weigh upon him: how does a man deal with the ending of a life-long friendship he never thought he would be without? It were foolish, and something he would never voice into the open – there were other matters he could do to keep himself busy, to work toward rerouting himself to the north values of the north. “i’d say we’re neighbours now, but considering the situation….aleks ain’t too keen on those penny pinchin’ freys you call your peers.” he snorted slightly, leaning forward.

#t⚔︎ interaction ╱ brandon karstark

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daceystvrk · 4 months ago

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the sound of brandon karstark laughing was not an unfamiliar sound, but neither was it one that dacey was used to hearing as a result of something she had said. she had managed to swallow her own laughter at aleksander's expense earlier on, but brandon's own amusement coaxed it from her now. and yet, she would not be disloyal to the younger karstark now. "he was doing me a kindness," she attempted to explain. "i don't wish to insult whoever picked it out for me but it was... not to my taste. he might have abandoned me for a westerner, but he did save me from a night of wearing the that thing."

there had never been a time where the sight of stark and karstark in conversation, even dancing with one another, would have been a cause for raised eyebrows. not until now. she did not know if the separation was as felt by brandon as it was in winterfell. she had not spoke with owen about it, nor any of her other siblings, but she would not have been surprised if they harboured similar sentiments to dacey herself, that there was a wrongness to how everything had unfolded, and yet she was uncertain if there was really anybody at fault, or blame to be laid.

but if such a chasm was to exist, she would not be the one to further it. and once again, dacey found herself creeping in to something she did not really understand, trying to make the broken pieces fit back together.

it is not my own. dacey knew that people lied, for some as naturally as breathing. she did not believe brandon to be one of them, not he who had always been so honest, who had not lied to her when it had mattered most. in those five words, she would hear nothing but truth, because that was what she wanted to hear. if it were foolish to trust him now, then a fool she would be. she nodded her head, a silent acknowledgment of such sentiment.

"then i am sorry." had anybody told him that they were sorry? she did not know what had been said between him and owen behind closed doors. "you deserve more than to be made to represent something that is not your truth." they were not honeyed words, delivered with another intent, but said because that was exactly what dacey meant.

♞

"she's what?" brandon asked, an incredulous sound to his voice that was far rougher around the edges than he ever could have anticipated - perhaps because of all the things he was expecting to hear this night, the idea of aleksander finding himself tangled up and enjoying the company of some westerwoman was at the bottom of his list. "he's what?" he repeated, in the very same tone, though this time accompanied with the sound of his own laughter. the idea of him wearing the mask that belonged to the princess; perhaps he had been in the cups for all of this night.

if gods be good, he'll awake tomorrow and the redheaded girl will be a memory, or halfway out of the door. "yeah, he has his moments alright."

he heard her quiet comment regarding not appearing so out of place, and whilst his first initial reaction was to begin to dismiss it, he found himself holding his tongue; perhaps because he did not want to draw further attention to whatever feelings of self-consciousness she felt. they were in the middle of the dance floor, and whilst they could be spotted, they would not be in the forefront of all attention - apart from any courtiers of the north, who could very much be wondering what it was the pair were doing associating with one another.

but that was the thing - the narrative that had begun, was not a narrative of his own. it was not brandon karstark who called for the true north; his fracture from court was for no greater purpose than to stand by his own morals.

and stop himself from killing jin renshu; if it were the very last thing he would do, it would be that. if there was any matter he would risk facing the worst of sentences for, it was that. but he could do not that - not yet, not until aleksander had gotten married and had at least one heir to secure the family line. the slight frown that crossed her features, illuminated in candlelight, was the reason he wanted to speak to her in the privacy of such a thing - a dance was public, but their conversation was between them. "it is not my own." he responded, his tone quieter now; as though he wanted her to believe him.

because he would always care for what the starks thought of him. their sun of winter; he who knew no king other than whose name was stark. "i didn't call for it. people use what is already public to have their own issue."

#✧ interaction ╱ brandon karstark

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