open starter //accepting
The Seven were not her gods, but Gysella felt the need to thank them regardless. Sometimes, she could still feel the sting in her ribs when she breathed, and the pain in her leg where she had twisted it in her attempt to flee. A reminder of what could have happened. The fate she avoided. So she knelt, the soft candlelight illuminating the statue of the mother she knelt before, adding to it by lighting a candle before her. She preferred this, to any other worship, to hymns or songs or prayer. Quiet, and her own. Of course, with so many in Highgarden, she did not expect to be alone for long. "Room enough for us both, my liege." She smiled, though it didn't reach dark eyes. "Join me?"
28 notes
·
View notes
closed for @steelfyre
Gysella stared into the flickering candle flame, a hand clutched to her throat. It couldn't be more different to the fires that had destroyed the keep, the fires that had nearly wiped them all from the face of the earth. And yet, she stared into it, as it burned lower, seeing it on the backs of her eyelids with every blink, and like that it was bigger, fiercer. It had her pulse thundering, and her mind blank to all but the flame. To burn... No Iron born wanted to go that way. Would the Drowned God have still welcomed her to his halls, if the fires had taken her? The thought makes her breath hitch, and she finally pulls herself from the doom. "I... I'm sorry. I believe I may have... Lost myself in thought." She pushed away the goblet, more than half full. "Perhaps less of that, for me. You were saying?"
16 notes
·
View notes
closed for @oftroje
Highgarden was beautiful, Gysella could not deny that. The gardens looked like something out of a painting, a blue sky with warm breeze so picturesque she almost couldn't believe it. But there was a tension in the air. The last time she had seen most of these people, had been just before the attack, though what was worse was searching the crowds for faces she feared she would not see again. Gysella was not an affectionate woman, she held little love for those outside of her direct circle, but to die like that... There were few she would wish it on. There had been reservations on coming at all. Was it worth the risk to life and limb? But, of course, the draw of power was one too tempting to ever ignore. With ever practiced grace, she moved slowly, like there was not a care in the world. "I never had the privilege of visiting Highgarden before. I am grateful, that the Tyrells have opened their doors to us all."
10 notes
·
View notes
open starter // a c c e p t i n g — the brunch
Gysella had to resist the urge to s c o f f into her cup. She had to, for she found herself too surrounded by faces she could not trust. A farce, surely. Powers behind closed doors making a decision. They would choose their favourite, the ones they thought would be most easily controlled. For if they could not be the h a n d that guides the crown, they would be the p o w e r that guides the hand. She assumed as such, because it's what she would do, if given half the opportunity. She saw no reason to move, to find a council member and make promises she would have no intention of keeping, to even try. She did look across the room, to watch the reactions of others. "I'm sorry, I... Was lost in thought. So much to take in, so early in the day." Too early for a proper drink, at the very least. "What were you saying?"
12 notes
·
View notes
closed for @celestei
"Would you play along, if I say my leg still has not healed enough for a night full of dancing?" Dark eyes meet her husbands, mouth twisting into a half smile as she runs fingers over the dance card. Her voice was low, words intended only for the two of them, though a quick glance had her almost certain everyone was too invested in their own cards to be paying much attention to her. She was grateful for their first dance, to not have to dive headfirst into finding those names from her card, but to spend the entire night on the floor was a tiring concept indeed, without the relief of breaks with those she found easier to converse with. To stretch the truth and build in some of those breaks could be the difference between a pleasant conversation and a sharp tongue, as the night drew on, even if having to play on a weakness did go against her very essence. "It would spare feelings, I am sure."
3 notes
·
View notes
closed for @wcrfcres
"My deepest apologies." The words are insincere and half muttered as she brushes past unfamiliar faces in an attempt to find any ally in this storm, worried about being swept into the arms of strangers as the last two songs of the night begin, and yet when dark eyes look up to the lord she has accidentally pushed herself into, a worse fear comes to light. Not a stranger, except in the ways that matter most. Not a friend, because a friend would never be so callous. Enemy, her pride called, a bloodthirsty crowd that raged in her mind. The word did not fit, but she forced it to anyway, the crowd dulling out any sense left to her. Brown eyes are sharp now, as the edge of a blade, hand pulled back like he burned her skin. "I shall not get in your way." The words sharp off her tongue, the same shallow courtesies she would grant anyone, with none of the kindness she pretended she had, though even that has its limits. "If you would ever get out of my way."
2 notes
·
View notes
closed for @cursebrcken
"I am most comfortable here, my liege." Settled, with a glass full of wine and a plate of treats she had carefully selected from the tables, watching instead as mismatched partners made their way to and across the floors, happier still that her shoes would not be mangled by a clumsy partner. "I think I have had my fair share of time on the floor. Best to let others get in on the fun, don't you think?" She turned dark eyes to her conversation partner, a sparkle of mischief to her eyes the only sign that words were not entirely sincere, that there was more to the woman than the words she allowed to fall from wine-stained lips. "What of you, have you been seeking out your partners?"
2 notes
·
View notes
closed for @traegedys
"Goodsister." The smile that graced her features was as close to genuine as it had been since the first dance of the night, now she was finally face to face with another lion. She had started to find comfort in the family she had married into, in a way she had never intended, when she had left Ten Towers. Not trust, nor love, but something close enough to fondness to seek out her husband's twin in the festivities, over other familiar faces. "I find I am in desperate need of a break from dancing.�� Would you join me, as I pillage the sweets tables? It would give my feet a much needed reprieve."
2 notes
·
View notes
closed for @awhispcr
"Lady Celtigar." Gysella's hand toyed with one of the many bracelets around her wrist, an absent gesture as she took in Valyrian features. What made them so different to the royals, or the dragons of Castamere, and stopped them from claiming their own dragons, besides the Queen's proclamation? She wasn't so sure, as she finally took in the Lady of Claw Isle. She couldn't imagine being so close to such immense power, and yet too far to actually do anything about it. How frustrating, she would find it. "It is lovely to make your acquaintance. I have heard a great deal of your beautiful home, it is a tragedy that I have not had the chance to visit. Are you enjoying the celebrations thus far?"
6 notes
·
View notes
closed for @steelfyre
"Oh, I do believe I will sit this one out." Gysella gave a demure smile, placing the rim of her glass against her lips and taking the smallest of sips of the arbor red, before placing it on a table. "I am having far too much fun simply watching the events unfold before us. Some of the court certainly could have done with a few more dance lessons in their youth, I daresay." She watched one step on another liege's toes as they twirled, and scrunched her nose delicately. "I have been lucky, to this point, to have been paired with at least passably decent dancers."
4 notes
·
View notes
closed for @sacrificeds
As much as she disliked having to admit it, something about the celebration was rather soothing to the soul. Something about it did seem to make the past three months seem more a nightmare than reality, or perhaps this a lovely dream. She sat herself in a shady corner, just close enough to hear the music floating over the conversations around her, wine in hand. To an approaching figure, she offered a sly smile over the rim of the goblet. "Lord Tyrell must truly love his wife, to plan such lavish festivities." Or, be dedicated in his mission to impress the crown. In either way, it was to all of their benefit. "Though I am most looking forward to the joust."
2 notes
·
View notes
closed for @regalxpoise
"Lady Targaryen. Don't you look lovely." Gysella had herself chosen only her finest silks, green to match the beautiful backdrop of the gardens, and enough jewels to sink her, should she fall in the Mander, but still found herself jealous of violet eyes that would outshine any stone. The dragons of the west were more known to her than those of the Crownlands, and ones she had paid closer mind to in her time on the Rock, enough to recognise the youngest by face, even if distinctly Valyrian features were hard to miss. "There are a great many activities set up by our hosts. Will I be seeing you try your hand at any of them? I had half a mind to join the joust, but... Well, the fates would not align."
5 notes
·
View notes
closed for @ironforgcd
"I almost wished to join the lists myself. Surely, jousting is not as hard as some of these people make it sound." She scoffed, a roll of dark brown eyes with a thoroughly unimpressed look to her features. If she had more faith in the structural integrity of her leg, she surely would have, if only to embarrass others. How hard could it be, to knock opponent with a stick. "What of you? Will you jump atop a horse and show these fools how it is done?" She turned to sister with a raised eyebrow. It was the closest thing to a compliment that would fall from rosy lips, bidding the younger to do their name proud. A strange feeling, as she didn't bear that name anymore. "At the very least, I expect you to bring home whatever reward there is for archery. There will be an award, surely. I cannot abide these people who think the satisfaction lies not in the trophy but in the game."
4 notes
·
View notes
closed for @cursebrcken
It was hard to accept dragons as both cause of her misery and perhaps the only reason she still stood to this day. Without them, the attack may not have happened in the first place. Without them, they would have all died. How did one show the correct amount of gratitude for it? The night was still too sharp in Gysella's mind, edges that cut if she thought about them too much. She would remember it for the rest of her days, long after she forgot the colour of her parents eyes or the name of the first ship she ever sailed. How much worse would it be, to have faced the danger head on, instead of scattering like prey? "I hope you are well, my prince." She finally settles on. It is pathetic, holds none of the conflict within her. "The crown made an excellent decision, bringing us to Highgarden."
4 notes
·
View notes
closed for @heavnle // gysella & lucretia
Gysella gave the slightest lean against the wall next to her, absently picking at her cuticles as she surveyed the room. As much as she would have liked to remain in Casterly Rock, with so many of her in-laws having made the trek to King's Landing, the castle felt less like home than ever. Of course, with the place filled with nobles from across the seven kingdoms, it meant finding a familiar face was harder than she had planned for. At the first sight of her good-sister, Gysella was moving, passing through the room like water until she reached her side. "Good morning. If you had no other plans, perhaps we could break fast."
4 notes
·
View notes
closed for @graeclings // gysella & tywell
"I thought the Red Keep would be... Impressive." Maybe Gysella had simply built it up in her mind, but it didn't feel more opulent than Casterly Rock. No more comfortable, either. She didn't know exactly what she had expected of the castle, but it didn't live up to the expectation. "Instead, I find I am quite disappointed." It was not an opinion she would voice to anyone but her husband, even as bland an opinion as it was. She didn't wish to leave, of course, too much to be gained by their presence in the capitol, but it didn't mean she liked it. "For the amount spent on fixing it, I expected more."
2 notes
·
View notes