#( nasir manderly )

[daceystvrk]

closed starter for @nasirofmanderlys

dacey was not a bold person. she had little of her siblings courage. when she entered a room, it was with her head lowered, determined not to draw attention to herself. she did not covet the feeling of eyes on her, but the last few months, though fraught with the stress of loss, had had the unintended side effect of pushing her from her comfort zone. more visible and more involved than she had perhaps ever been, she held her head a little higher these days, even if only to give the impression that she actually knew what she was doing.

however, if there was anybody guaranteed to send her scuttling from the room, gazed fixed firmly on her own feet, it was nasir manderly. it wouldn't be accurate to say dacey did not like nasir - it was just that she was very, very aware that he held little regard for her. being unnoticed wasn't something that bothered dacey much. she actually preferred that, in many ways. but nasir manderley's words, so long ago, had given her the distinct impression that he plain disliked her, and that, she found harder to deal with.

and so, she responded in the only way she knew how - by completely avoiding him. if she entered a room and saw him there, she shot to the other side of it, or made her excuses and left. it wasn't a snub, on her part - simply a desire not to force her company where it. a kindness.

and so, when she noticed nasir in this room, she was quick to say her goodbyes and take her leave. that was, until she heard someone calling her name. she turned to look for who had called out to her, but failed to spot them. what she did see was nasir, standing close enough to her that she couldn't avoid him without being rude, and looking her dead in the eye.

"lord manderly," she managed to keep her voice steady. that was about all she managed, though. her mouth opened, then closed again, her brain completely devoid of all logical thought. how long had it been since she'd last spoken to him? she had to say something. "have you been to the westerlands before?" it was good enough.

[iona-tully]

fmk: vaegon, leo, nasir

The princess scoffed lightly at the question, shaking her head a little. Strawberry blonde locks of hair swaying with the motion. She frankly deemed it a waste of time to entertain the ideas posed by the question, for she knew that realistically, she wouldn't wed, lay with, or end the lives of any of those men. “Vaegon would have been my choice for a husband once,” she said, answering truthfully. She had loved the Sea Snake's son, and would probably always love him in a way that was uniquely reserved for him. So much changed around them, though. “I can't deny Lord Lefford is an attractive man, so,” her words trailed off with a one-shoulder shrug, insinuating what her answer was in regards to him. The princess had felt a connection to him once, and she had always held admiration and respect for the lord. “I'm afraid Lord Manderly is relegated to the last category simply because I'm not very familiar with him,” she mused. “I've no ill will for the lord, though. He seems to be a most respectable man, I've heard only praise when his name is brought up”.

( @vaegonvelaryon, @leolefford & @nasirofmanderlys )

[tionpeake]

tion knew nasir well enough to know that his mind was set on condemnation, that no amount of reassurance could shift it. his mind was on his own father then, how he had taken his secrets nearly to his grave, only choosing to unburden himself on tion in his final moments. he did not know if the late lord peake had ever stared into the flames like this, ruminating over his choices with those he trusted most, as he did not know if this was something nasir could hold in as long as tion's father had.

"you could outrun it, if you wanted to," tion said at last, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. "men do it every day. they wash their hands of the past and pretend it never belonged to them." he spoke matter-of-factly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. perhaps to some, it was. "but you won't," tion continued. "you won't let yourself."

he leaned forward then, resting forearms on his knees and setting his empty goblet to the side upon a mahogany end table. "so you sit there drinking yourself into a misery over it, thinking that you failed him, failed yourself, and failed everyone that's ever met you. like that isn't more than most do over their baseborn children." that was something he would not let nasir deny. zakariya was not the only child sired in the belly of a battlefield whore during the dance, but he had certainly had more luck in life than most of them. he huffed a laugh. "so i say it again. you're too hard on yourself. you think a boy's only got one path to manhood? that if you aren't there, he's doomed?"

he shook his head, lifting one hand in a dismissive gesture. "he might not have your name, nor have you claimed him. but he has you in his blood and his bones. he is cared for. house peake will stand behind him, regardless of what name he carries. you not being there - it's not right, i'll grant you that, but it is not the end of the world for him. silence was the coward's choice when he was a babe. i no longer think it is now."

and yet it seemed that here, they would need to agree to disagree. if nasir's peace could not be made, then conversations about zakariya would always be like this, an endless circle of regret and reflection. "i haven't denied amir's suspicions," he admitted. "haven't confirmed them, either. i thought it best to let them linger." tion cleared his throat, eager to seize upon the change of topic, one corner of his mouth raised in a smirk. "true. but white women look for white husbands," he pointed out with a laugh, a sound that reverberated rich and deep in his chest.

but it was deeper than that. tion's expression shifted into something more contemplative. "ah, you know me, brother," he said, his tone more resigned. "and gods, i know myself. it would take a rare woman to keep me from looking over my shoulder for something else. and then i'll be sending you my bastards to keep." it were a joke, but a poor one. "if such a woman exists, i've yet to meet her. so until then, the pair of us are in the same boat."

✯

the fire crackled low, casting faint, flickering shadows over the room as nasir leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his goblet absentmindedly. his gaze flicked to tion, who sat across from him, that familiar mix of steady confidence and quiet care etched into his features. nasir knew tion meant well, his words chosen with the kind of precision that came from years of understanding the weight they carried. still, they struck sharp against nasir's thoughts, the truths in them both comforting and damning.

"issue is, i don't see it as restraint," nasir began, his voice low but firm, his dark eyes meeting tion’s in the dim light. "it isn’t restraint, not truly. restraint would have been stopping myself that night, knowing full well the consequences. but this—this silence, this... distance—it doesn’t feel like strength. it feels like failure. like cowardice."

his voice softened, but the bitterness lingered. "i’ve told myself it’s for his sake, that my absence spares him from scandal, from whispers of illegitimacy. but tell me, tion, how does a boy grow into a man without knowing where he comes from? without a father to guide him?" nasir’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his gaze drawn to the dying fire. "i’ve always thought a man is defined not by his words but by his deeds. and a father..." he paused, his throat tightening. he thought of his own father.

"a father is meant to be there, no matter the storm, no matter the burden. i've always said that, that boys need their father. yet here i am, leaving that boy to grow under another’s roof because i lacked the courage to claim him. because i thought i could outrun the shame."

nasir sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. the weight of his thoughts felt heavier than ever in the stillness of the room. "you’ve done right by him, tion. you’ve given him a home, stability, all the things i should have. and for that, i owe you more than i can ever repay. but don’t mistake my gratitude for absolution. this isn’t something i can make peace with, not yet." and the man's face couldn't help but laugh slightly now as he accepted the refill of the drink, indicating his glass toward his tion himself. "and amir keeps thinking he's yours." he took a sip of his drink, letting the burn settle his frayed nerves before continuing. he didn't speak more on mariela egen.

"as for marriage..." nasir let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "bringing a woman into this mess would be cruel. how could i ask someone to stand beside me when i’m not even sure i’ve got my feet under me? no, not until house manderly is secure, not until i’ve put the pieces in place to ensure the north can’t afford to overlook us any longer. then, perhaps. but not now." his gaze returned to tion, and for a moment, the stern fa��ade cracked, revealing a flicker of vulnerability that only ever showed with tion peake. "i’ll make it right one day, for the boy. for the family i’ve failed so far. but until then... well, i’ll keep trying to be the man i should have been all along."

"what's your excuse? it's not like there aren't enough white women in the south." the words, said in nasir's typically serious, quiet voice, was enough to cause a crack of a grin that cross his features.

[naaijas]

♛ → THE NORTH present(s) NAIJA JANNAT MANDERLY, the LADY of WHITE HARBOR. when the dragons danced in the sky they thought the BLACKS would still fly, but in the blink of an eye, they would all die. the TWENTY-EIGHT year old FEMALE who was REVERENTIAL & BENEVOLENT before they saw the first of the flames, is now ALOOF & RETICENT after seeing the last. they’re often associated with the glimmer of a freshly plucked pearl, the nurturing pressure of a tightly wrapped bandage, and a lingering cloud of sea salt, vanilla and cinnamon. ( antonia gentry fc )

- every notable action that naija's taken to date, has been on her own time, and her birth was the first to be seen of it. she'd been born only a few minutes after amir, but it was enough to strike fear into those who witnessed. they feared the babe would perish, but she emerged with an ear-piercing cry, awaking one of the same pitch in her older brother. the manderly twins had finally arrived, healthy and mighty as they would be for years to come.

- being the last born child of hashim and manal manderly has given naija plenty to look up to. she holds her parents ahind siblings in the highest regard when she gets the chance to verbalize it, with her late father and sister being the focus of those conversations. while she may not agree with everything they do, (and will respectfully let them know her displeasure), she will defend them until her last breath. marriage may be wading within the tides, but naija will always be a manderly at heart.

-while all known efforts in war to come from the youngest manderly are quiet acts of service and aid, she was very vocal during the search for manal, going as far as to try to venture out herself. heavy guard kept her plans from coming to fruition though, and without her twin there to anchor her she fell into a deep darkness. her recovery didnt bring much alleviation to naijas mental state. it broke whatever was left of her soul to see manal in such a state, and she exhausted every effort to help her return to some semblance of the sister she admired so dearly.

- the death of manal manderly ii dealt a devastating blow. with her father since passed, and amir seemingly silent in skagos, she found herself clinging to the shreds of family she had left. shes become fiercely supportive of nasir despite the deep rooted respect she already had for the way he led the family through hashims death and every other tragedy since. it strikes a new fear in her when he must leave for his duty as hand of the king, often inventing reasons she should come along. she far from possesses the physical traits to protect him, but she still feels as though she must try.

- naija focuses a busy mind on humanitarian efforts, first and foremost. her most cherished act of charity is the education of lowerborn girls. she teaches them to read and write, using stories of the seven as the framework of her lessons. they bring comfort to both teacher and pupils, and it helps her feel connected to her faith during hard times. during times of war, she can be found nursing wounded soldiers to health and distributing food to those who come to white harbor from battle-ravaged villages.

- the arts hold a special place in the youngest manderly's heart, and that love extends past mere spectation. naija often associates sounds and feelings with colors, and will paint what she feels if the pull is strong enough. tucked away in a chest of drawers are countless works, most are vivid recollections of conversations that elicited an emotion from her, and acts as a catalyst for her to understand them better. amir may be the only one who can even begin to decipher the meaning behind them.

- matters of the realm are far beyond her knowledge, but she can say that her support for owen and his vision for the north are strong. she tends to fall in line with the eldest manderly's views, but this is decision shes made for herself. the time for change in north has been brewing, and she's prepared for a shift in the tides.

[amirofmanderlys]

who: @lucerysxestermont, @ryonwyl, @nasirofmanderlys, @jalabharmooton, @tionpeake context: the five great banking families of westeros speak on the rumours of the iron bank opening up a branch across the narrow sea - and the rumours it could be in the vale.

the chamber was dim, heavy velvet curtains muffling the daylight and creating a cloistered atmosphere. amir manderly sat at the long table, feeling out of place despite the rich sea-green of his doublet, the silver merman of his house gleaming faintly in the candlelight. the room reeked of pipeweed and ambition, a combination that made him restless. this wasn’t his usual arena—he preferred the simplicity of a sword’s edge or the honest chaos of a card game.

but his brother nasir sat beside him, calm and composed as ever, a steady anchor in these murky waters. he should be speaking, amir thought, resisting the urge to fidget.

the network was gathered in full today—mootons, estermonts, peakes, wyls, and, of course, the manderlys. the most powerful coin families in westeros, they liked to think themselves puppeteers of economies and alliances. amir wasn’t sure he believed that. the reach of the network always seemed to falter at the vale and the westerlands, and now, with rumors of the iron bank’s expansion to gulltown, it felt like the limits of their influence were being laid bare.

"gulltown...would be an issue, nah?" amir asked, breaking the lull in conversation, though his voice was quieter than usual. it felt strange to speak here, among people who seemed to measure their worth in ledgers and gold. it were not his usual manner of discussion. "it’s just... it’s hard to say what we’re even dealing with. i mean, rumors like this—they can spread like wildfire, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything real behind them."

he glanced at nasir for reassurance but found his brother’s expression unreadable. amir pressed on, unsure if his words carried any weight. "and if it is true—well, what then? what could we even do about it? gulltown isn’t exactly friendly to us. they’d probably see us coming from a mile away." he tapped his fingers against the table, the sound hollow against the polished wood. "maybe," he added after a pause, "maybe it’s not about stopping it. maybe it’s just... knowing for sure. someone should go, figure out what the iron bank’s actually planning. at least then we’d be dealing with facts instead of whispers."

the room was quiet for a moment, and amir felt the weight of the others’ gazes. he shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward nasir again. he’s better at this, amir thought. i can’t just sit here and say nothing. "anyway," he finished with a slight exhale, "that’s all i’ve got for you man." he gave a faint, self-deprecating smile, leaning back in his chair as the discussion moved on.

[myriamas]

its time for you to make the eight; marriage stops nothing in dorne!

"...but why would i need that when-" there was a drunken slur to her words, and a rose tint to her cheeks; the question made her laugh. curly hair had become unruly in the humidity, and there came gleaming mischief.

"my husband for dorne, obviously. he is the most attractive man in westeros. who would need to look at any other?"

"the rest...we can start with...the vale?" her nose wrinkled, and she swatted her hand away. "all too pale and the king consort is just...no. no valemen, none would be worth it. there would be no climax, and so, a waste of time."

"stormlanders...even worse...i would close my eyes and let the wylde lord pleasure me; i won't see his face between my thighs and then he can leave."

"the westerlands...of all of them, only the prince of fair isle. arron lannister. because he commanded himself very well. a good impression, yes?" she reached for another wine glass. "the north, probably the lord of white harbour- lord manderly. the eldest one. nasir, i think."

valyrians? crownlanders? she would rather fling herself from starfall's tallest tower. "if im fucking any valyrian, i am fucking their king."

the riverlands caused her eyes to roll somewhat; how embarrassing it was to even consider being around those men. "zakariya mallister, if it must be someone."

for the reach, she put her goblet down, finally done with the answers. "tirius rowan."

@baashirdayne / @arronlannister / @zakariyamallisters / @tiriusrowan / @jaehaerysiitargaryen / @nasirofmanderlys / @intothewylde

[danceofdragonsrphlore]

While home and recovering Lady Manal II Manderly tries to get back into the swing of things. Which is why it's surprising when she wakes one morning unable to rise from her bed due to feeling ill. The maesters worried of this, mentioning their concerns regarding the deep wounds from her rough treatment at the hands of the Little Umber. Her fever comes on quickly, hot to the touch with a coat of sweat covering her every inch forcing the bedding to be changed multiple times a day. As the sickness slowly takes her, their mother sits by her bed day and night refusing to leaving her side. As family comes and goes she ends each day calling for Amir. Amir who wasn't home, ravens flew from White Harbour by the dozen, words to the Lord to hurry home. Words to commanders to find their Lord and send him home. It is her last night, Nasir Manderly at one side and Zaida at her other, when she sighs and laughs for the first time since coming home and claps her hand against the bed lightly. "Amir? Come now, stop your hiding. We must go to bed. Amir? Come now, stop your hiding." When Nasir takes her hand she smiles and raises it up, kissing the back. "My Amir, there you are." Manal Manderly has died.

| @nasirofmanderlys @amirofmanderlys @zaidamanderly |

[tionpeake]

tion peake - a future au

quick links

style

home decor

career

vibes

school years

born in haiti, tion grew up poor. an intelligent boy, however, his fortunes changed when he was awarded a scholarship to the academy as a teenager.

in his school years, tion always felt like he had to prove himself around his classmates, who were for the most part all far wealthier than him. he applied himself to everything - academia, sports, extra curriculars, socialising. he didn't want to give anybody an excuse to look down on him.

publicly, he maintained a facade of being cool, calm, and collected, but tion was actually driving himself very close to complete burnout.

adult life

post-school, tion began his career interning for the manderly family business, a position earned due to his friendship with nasir. the job tested the limits of their friendship, but after tion had resigned and moved on, they got back on track.

tion went on to have a very successful career. nobody is sure exactly what he does, only that he's made a lot of money doing it. he describes his profession as "ceo", but it's anyone's guess what he's ceo of.

tion has the typical "rise and grind" mindset, his alarm going off at 4am every morning. he clocks off around 11 at night, and takes a 20 minute power nap in his lunch break.

where tion has been less fortunate is in his love life. after falling for ayca mallister and getting his heart broken, and a string of unsuccessful talking stages, he's currently hung up on mariela, who happens to be dating someone else.

[ofsacredseas]

TRUTH SERUM: It's time to make the 8! What one person would you bed from all the different regions of Westeros?

brows rose at such a bold question, and if she were not so inclined to, she would never answer such a thing. lips pursed as she thought more deeply. “well, to start with the riverlands, ronan bracken.” she shrugged. “the north, nasir manderly. for the vale, strangely enough, lord stone.” she made a face. why in the world would she name a bastard? she continued. “eren marbrand for the west and tirius rowan for the reach.” she paused a moment to think again. “for the stormlands, ulises tarth, and for the crownlands, well i suppose garrick cargyll is handsome if he were not so much himself. you would not catch me speaking to a dornishman, but if i must, i would choose armaan yronwood.”

[owenstark]

THE CIVIL WAR UPDATE PT. 1

The war rages on in the North as the forces of the Little King, his name destined to be wiped from the history, continue their chaos, they have experienced push back from communities of people from the East who have banded together to join the efforts to protect White Harbour and have started their own search parties hoping to locate Manal II Manderly.

The King's Party ( King Owen Stark and Prince Cregan Stark, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Yuan Anya and Cassana Stark)

King Owen Stark and his brother @crreganstark are travelling to the wall where they will crush the rebelling watchmen where the King intends to leave his brother with the task of protecting the Northern Front from wildlings and providing support to @wintervsuns (Lord Brandon Karstark). As the brothers travel Owen has started using their nights at camp to teach Cregan about warging into creatures, starting with teaching him to warg into his wolf and control it. Between practicing with Cregan, Owen has taken to sitting in his tent before sleep and warging into the Smoke and leading wolves into an Umber camp where the commander of the camp is ripped apart by wolves. Tales of the Warg King are spreading across the North as more animals have started to attack people on the roads. Owen hopes to warg into a bear soon, a bear he's been trying to attach to since spotting in while in Smoke. Cregan is taking well to his training and has become a great help to Owen. They never break the rules of warg or skinchanging: no feasting on human flesh, no mating, and no taking over the body of a man or woman.

Princess @cassvstark continues to lead her group of female archers. she is staying close to her brother's side, relaying all information from her visions to him no matter how small it might seem. However she is starting to pick up on some dangerous rumors coming down from the Umber forces but needs to verify them before speaking with Owen.

Lady @anya-snow has capitalized on the yitish relation and soldiers from the regions of Wan and Shizi have travelled to the westerosi kingdom of the north in the past weeks. The forces under Owen have grown, with a troop of 1000 yitish soldiers arriving. The blacksmith, for her part, has supplied the Night's Watch with weaponry and has been travelling across camps with a team of smiths to reforge and fix blades for the army of the true north.

House Manderly

Lord @amirofmanderlys made the difficult choice of continuing on with his journey to Skagos after providing much needed assistance to Brandon Karstark through a restock of supplies and support before continuing to Skagos where he will be for some time. Owen has sent word to their YiTish allies who will meet Amir at Skagos.

Duke @nasirofmanderlys is leading the charge of taking down the forces of the Little King as he tracks the man in hopes of securing his sister and bringing her home. The people of the East who has been welcomed into White Harbour have ventured out to joke Nasir. Tirius Rowan has sent 500 volunteers to White Harbour for an attack on one Old Way family is an attack on them all and as word reached Goldengrove the Marshall of the Northmarch sought out volunteers who wished to travel North before going to Alayim.

House Karstark

Duke Brandon Karstark has been hit hard, his home lands surrounded and his wife @northernseer believed to be dead needs to be buried. Unknown to the King, Meera appears to be alive. Brandon has been intensely defending the borders of his land with help from Amir Manderly's resources. The YiTish arrive to provide assistance to the Duke per the agreement between the North and the YiTish.

The Stark in Winterfell

Queen @rosaaaryn continues to be the Stark in Winterfell. She is doing her best to help take in any known loyal women and children who need shelter if umber forces are over taking their lands. She is writing correspondences between various lords and ladies to try and help pass information along if she can.

The Military Commanders

Prince @adam-stark and lord @jin-renshu have continued to lead the berserkers to raze Umber forces. A warning had already been given so no men is left alive. Adam has made an example of every commanding officer and treacherous lord that falls on the battle, beheading them and leaving their headless corpses hanging from trees as continuous retaliation for the murder of the young prince, Jon.

The Loyal Bolton:

Princess Consort @northernglorie (Glorie Bolton) [updates in part 2]

Magics of the North

Princess @allysannestark has travel with a party to her lands where she has provided the support of a Stark presence along with her skill in regards to the North and it's many plants. She has started to seek other means to provide support to the Northmen in their battles. [Further Updates in Part 2]

The Western Front

Ren left the legion after a bit, as sea dragon point has been turned into a refugee area. The new ruling lord has been granting food and shelter for those that come to his land.

Duke @xavariglover has left men to protect their Western Front by land and sea, he is aware that any word of Manal Manderly requires forces to be sent. She is of priority along with tracking and keeping the rebellious Mountain Clans in check as they terrorize the Western lands of the North. [ Further Updates in part 2 ]

Final Note

The North will be forever changed by the choices of the Little King and his choice to target the people of the Old Way with such ferocity. As the war rages on, people have started to defect from the Little King, a steady bleeding of Northmen after the acts against the Old Way. To stop this bleeding support traitors are being killed by the Little King and his commanders.

The Hugors, some call the people taking a personal touch in attacking the camps of the traitors to the North, have started to poison the water barrels of Umber forces, steal their food, and kill them in the night. These are acts carried around by rumor residents of White Harbour though others whisper it is the worshippers from the east where men are more use to such treatment and have made it a point to fight back and show appreciation to their hosts. And the daughter who welcomed them, different as they are. [Further Updates in part 2]

(ooc: i think that in a place where there are many gods there would also be people who fight and if the rhllorist of the east are attacking Alayim then the Braavosi calling White Harbour home aren't strangers to intolerance.).

[wintervsuns]

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?

[danceofwhispers]

Rumour has it Nasir Manderly picked up a woman during the Great Northern war that he's now made his secret mistress. Time for him to meet his son, and for Lady Manderly to meet her competition.

@nasirofmanderlys, @imaneshahrazad

[nasirofmanderlys]

who: @amirofmanderlys​ where: during the journey back to white harbor, following the north’s departure from the reach. it is dawn, and king owen’s camp seems quiet, apart from a messenger which had reported directly to the king. context: this is within the hour that the rest of the northern camp found out prince jon had been taken, alongside lady manal manderly.

it were not usual for the mind of nasir manderly to be running at what felt like a sickening blur. it was not usual for him to feel the sense of overwhelming anxiety, usually able to keep himself entirely composed and calm even in the toughest of moments: even the news of the manderly fleet sailing to braavos being looted did not even bring him the break of a sweat. for he trusted in his abilities to get everything sorted, to fix it; it was what he was. it was what his role was, both in this family, and in this court, within what felt like this very world: he needed to be able to fix it. 

and thus, he ignored the growing sense of suffocation that was within the very core of his chest. for he would not be able to fix it if he were drowning within himself, within currents that felt more deadly than even those of the shivering sea; he would rather be plunged beneath those darkest of waves rather than have to watch what was to now unfold. he could almost feel it before he saw it. as though he would be able to guess every moment that would soon unfold between the two brothers of house manderly, within their tent. 

he wordlessly directed the manderly guarded stationed outside his brother’s tent to enter and wake him; the minutes it took seemed to stretch on for what felt like eternity. he had ensured to send men after what little clues they had at this moment before approaching him, knowing his first instance would be to spring into some form of action. and there would be no stopping the tornado. he pushed through the entrance of the flap, noting the fact his brother was only raising from his bed, still in his sleepwear; white shirt, furs to keep them warm now they had left their ancestral homeland. 

he moved closer to his brother, his hand resting upon his bearded jaw; the ring of house manderly on his finger felt as though it was watching him, now more than ever. his mind thought of nothing but the worst, knowing the way in which men in this world could behave. knowing that his sister held the greatest dowry in all the north, richer than even the stark princesses. it would not take long for someone to put the two dots together, and force marriage. he swallowed slightly at that thought. 

he would find her alive. anything else, they would deal with after. anything else. 

“prince jon’s camp was attacked, just north of the neck.” there was no need to overload him with information, his words careful. it spoke of the severity of this matter. “boltons and umbers.” he regretted ever even having her within that camp, and yet they were only a days ride behind them. she had her own business to attend to, as asked by the winter king. she was only doing her duty too. “they took manal.”

[naaijas]

−−−  ꧁  closed starter for @tionpeake . naija catches up with an old friend at the ceremony for nasir.

many familiar faces bring the court of winter to its full fruition. notable are those from surrounding regions, most of which she'd learned for the sake of diplomacy, but among them towers one man whom she knows by choice. though his ancestors had forsaken theirs, naija was surprised to see tion make amends (albeit inadvertant) through his kinship with nasir. of all the people to witness nasir receive his honor, he is amongst those that she knows shares a happiness as genuine as her own.

"i was hoping you'd make it, lord peake." thick curls bob as she delivers a uniform bow of the head. a snippet of formality before delicate arms make an attempt to envelop his frame in a hug. "now the celebrations can truly begin." genuine remark is quick to from lips curved up into a grin. despite his closer friendship with nasir, naija found enjoyment in tions presence once he proved to fit so seamlessly within the manderly family dynamic. " im sure the boys are clamoring to find you, would you like help in tracking them down? unless i'm far too late, of course."

[amirofmanderlys]

who: @feraylocke where; kings landing, the first time amir and feray see one another since his return from skagos and her hearing of the death of her brothers from nasir manderly.

why had he been surprised to hear that she would be venturing so far south as to kings landing in light of all that had happened was something he was not entirely sure of; all knew the fact that northerners did not do well in the south, and it was not a result of the lack of furs that wrapped around their bodies. mentioned briefly in passing within the council meeting of the great northern lords, within a list of other northern houses that were still arriving to kings landing, a certain name registered far more than his body language would give away.

only one who knew him through and through would know to look beneath the table and see the way he bounced his knee, both in exhausted anticipation for a sense of normalcy, but also anxiety.

for amir manderly stood and lived, despite being entirely out of reach within the tremendous churning waves of the shivering sea. the captain had pulled through the hardest of times, and yet some of the members of the crew he had lost had been some of his most important; notably, the son of house locke that had been raised beside him, and had breathed his last breath with an arrow wedged within his chest. sent by a wild skagosi upon retreat, even the darkness could not stop the lethalness of the arrow; amir heard it pierce before he even turned to see who it had gone through.

and now, when amir rested his hands upon his chest and looked upon the canopy atop his head, he heard the laboured, struggled breaths of bekarys locke as he held him.

he did not know when he decided that his schedule would be rearranged to ensure the morning was free for his presence to be in the courtyard of the north's holdings; only that he found himself doing so in the morning, informing the servants of his where abouts should anything need direct answering. and as the wagon wheeled in, he felt the world remain still and calm around him, despite the fact he felt as though his stomach were churning the way the shivering seas did. he was sat upon the wall of a fountain, and yet felt as though he could sense the seas beneath his feet. he was no longer at sea.

when she stepped out, he remained sat upon the fountain - a common sight. as though nothing had changed, but everything had changed. perhaps it was the crushing sense of weight that came in knowing they had both lost much, but she had lost everything. everyone. perhaps it was the crushing weight of knowing her brother was under his charge, his responsibility, and had died with his blood on his hands.

"feray." he called as she stepped from the wagon, not looking in his direction instantly; but he saw her. instantly.

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

nasir leaned against the warm stone with the weight of someone who had endured too many courtiers for one morning. the sunlight crept lazily through highgarden's latticework, casting dappled shadows across the polished tile, but he barely noticed. his gaze slid sidelong to jalabhar, wine in hand, dressed like he’d been poured into that burgundy silk. "yeah, a game that can be played for as a long as possible. i ain't trying to deal with an outbreak of something international when me and amir have the boltons on our head." there was always something calculated in how jalabhar carried himself—refined, poised, and sharp behind the charm.

“you know,” nasir said, voice low but laced with humour, “only you would show up to a peace summit lookin’ like the seventh son of a saint and still clocking every soul here like you’re about to start a heist.” his eyes dropped to the walking stick, and for a moment, he was quiet. then—he exhaled hard, shaking his head before laughter spilled out, warm and unguarded; he knew the man could walk just fine. he had seen him just moments ago, gliding through the crowd unbothered, as quiet as possible yet still making his way to various different individuals. still, the sound of nasir manderly's laughter echoing through the halls was something most would no doubt not have expected to hear.

but there was always something about being with his people that always sent him to a level of comfort he felt with none other. his tone gentled slightly, still amused but laced with familiarity as he brought his hand to his mouth, still half laughing though it sounded more like a wheeze now. “half these men wield swords. man is wielding atmosphere."

what: open starter where: the reach event

The scent of crushed mint and warm stone clung to the air in Highgarden’s upper court, where fountains whispered and butterflies floated lazily through shafts of morning light. There were no banners flaring, no horns blaring—just the hum of strategy disguised as civility, ideas wrapped in sweet wine and rose-scented diplomacy.

Jalabhar Mooton stood beneath the arch of a marble arbor, wine cup cradled loosely in one hand, his other resting lightly atop the pommel of his walking stick—not for need, but for style. He wore rich burgundy, white-gold thread curling like rivers across his chest and cuffs, dark silk trousers tucked into polished boots.

His eyes were moving constantly—watching, not just looking. He noted who entered the courtyard, who avoided whom, who drank too quickly, and who smiled too long. Beneath the surface of progress and peace, he could feel it—ambition with teeth. And he liked it. This was the battlefield he craved.

"Funny thing about peace," he murmured, more to the air than to anyone present. "Folk tend to forget it’s just another kind of game. Quieter, aye—but the stakes? Still sharp."