wyldwolves

[wyldwolves]

“Will you teach them to dance then?” She inquires wondering about her baby, the little thing of the north knowing she would like a world it could waltz about in dancing among flowers and fresh snow. Lyanna would love to see them run along the edges of roofs like she and this honorary uncle of theirs would or father if one believed rumors. Part of her half wished at times perhaps he could’ve been but he was her platonic soul mate no more meant to love him then a fish could love a bird. If Lyanna had her way she would grow old with her friends, grey haired the lot of them and the many of them and this man who would remain ginger until he died fussing over a generation beyond the next. 

“I could never break your heart like that, Rickon. You will always have the protection of the north and your Lyanna” She smiled though her face drops softy when he sheds light on his proposed travel plans. Lyanna couldn’t be certain when the baby would arrive, early or late and the thought of not having those important to her about her was a quietly terrifying thing. Lyanna out to tell him the secret of the child’s father ought to have him stand there in his place. His question next then made her smile fade entirely. 

“I am alright. I am not frightened not about this or this harbinger business. I am lonely..” She speaks in a rare moment of complete vulnerability holding his hands. “I would love to be in love but love has never been kind to either of us. I will be okay though. I will bring the baby back home and then I will tell you the secret of its parentage- who its father is and you can pretend as long as you like to be its father there is hardly a finer friend or a more honorable man I would trust with that task.”

@wyldwolves || lyanna stark. contd.

“Or a dancer, perhaps.” he smiles at the thought. The world had enough fighters. Perhaps if everyone was more fond of dancing instead fighting, it would be a better place. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me Stark.” He laughs then, for the first time tonight, and pinches gently the tip of her nose. “Aye, I’d have taken great offence had you declined.” another soft laugh, perhaps he could call for Ashara as well, have the two speak of motherhood as he entertains the boys. “I will not be staying long, I don’t think. You will be safe here, with your family…and mine.” he squeezes gently at her hand. Being here was more than he’d truly dared face. He needed to put distance between himself, and the south, and the girl he could not have. “I will be heading to the Vale in three days time. I have some business to attend there. But I should meet you in Winterfell upon your return. You and our child, of course. I was offered congratulations today by Lord Caswell, it took all I had not not to laugh in his face.” for all the months together, Rickon never did learn who the father of the child really was. Perhaps he never would. He stopped in his tracks then, turning to face her, and he took her hands into his own. “Tell me you are alright Lyanna. That you do not feel frightened…or lonely.”

[wyldwolves]

@ofnobilites ( ft. elia & nymor )

Leaning against a wall, back pressed firmly to the cool stone in the depths of the shadows a woman waited keenly scanning the faces in the crowd and among the masses. Dark eyes made a careful inquiry of each face, mapping it into memory if they were a stranger and if not Elia watched still; the vigilant viper coiled and ready to strike if any one presented themselves as a threat. Thus far the people who gathered here were an uninteresting lot offering little excitement or much of any hint of danger to them. How had she allowed herself to nearly shuffle off her mortal coil and lose so many men to these people? There was a dull ache in her chest from a woman still slow to fully heal and profoundly lucky to be alive. The ache though wasn’t for muscles that snapped back to full strength. It was the longing to see someone who was more than a friend and regarded as less then he deserved to be to her. Elia watched for Nymor.

The great sword Dawn which she had carefully watched over since it was stripped from a knight rested in Elia’s possession - sent to her by his mother. She’d made sure it was cared for because Elia cared for the person she’d helped earn his way to it. How hard had they trained together - how close were they? Close enough the Daynes knew where to send his sword for when he eventually earned it back. Nymor was more than a swordsman as she was more than her knives. Clearing her throat loudly the lord of Starfall would know her whistle or the glint of white teeth in the shadow before she stepped out of the place she was concealed. "Did you think I wouldn't be here to greet you after all this time, Dayne? I will admit I was half tempted to pick your pocket to see if you were still as fast as I remember with your reflexes" Elia smiles holding out her hands. Hug her. She'd missed the fool man more than she had realized enough to have waited here at the gates even if both existed under the dornish sun but opposite sides of the country - focused on their return to strength and such. "Hug me, friend. "

[wyldwolves]

With the raise of her brow, sharp as the blade held out and offered to her in his outstretched hand it was a conversation within a conversation they were having. Words were chosen for the listening ears about them not that anyone was so foolish to eavesdrop on a conversation between a sand snake and a dragon of the dunes. The meaning to their words was double of course with an understanding of one another well enough that a conversation of rats was never just about the pernicious rodent population of the landing. “The stealthier the rat the more satisfying the catching of them. They are never what you expect of them but yes. Snakes do devour rats. Feast on them even and powerful fangs to clamp down and shutter the scurrying about of many ... rats” She nods, taking her blade, flipping the beautiful thing in the air to raise it to the light.

The ambiguity of a conversation drops out as she smiles over at her good-brother. “Of all the men I know you are one of the few I know and have the purest of confidence in a brother that will be ready whatever comes and that may - just may have a chance to best me one day. What did you end up naming your blade, dragon of the dunes, good brother of mine?”

vaegon was used to having a big family. he had seven siblings for most of his life, though turned to six less than two years ago. then he had married obella and he had gained even more siblings through her. siblings he has come to love as if they shared blood. elia, perhaps, was his favorite of the martells. she was much like her sister and did not speak down to him like many people used to. she saw something in him and has molded him into something he never knew was possible. she had taught and trained him. no longer was he the boy prince that no one would take seriously. he was turning into a sand snake before their eyes. "i would never presume to even reach your level of skill, sister. though perhaps with time i will get close." he smiled as her own blade flew through the air in the blink of an eye and stuck into the target next to his.

he walked over to the target and retrieved both knives before going back to her side. vaegon held her blade out to her as they speak of rats that are not animals. perhaps rats who are seahorses or squids or even lions. there were many enemies coming to the capital but vaegon was not the man he was a year ago when they last saw each other. "rats can be sneaky but that is why we have rat catchers, is it not?" he says with a slight smirk, his blade in his hand. "i only fear when tensions will come from having so many in the keep once again. the last we were all here, my cousin perished and my uncle started a war. time will only tell if we will put an end to that war for good. but this time, i will be prepared for it." turning his blade over in his hand, he looked back at elia. "and what say you? how do snakes feel of rats? they are food, are they not?"

[wyldwolves]

“The only thing smooth here is that baby’s behind” Elia chuckles in a soft whisper appearing beside the baratheon dorne had stolen for itself through the marriage of her elder brother to this hart - his heart. Glancing at little Meera a beloved auntie wiggled her nose in the child’s direction, not entirely jealous of a sister in law and her three children or the fact obella now expecting twin sun spots. Elia resigned herself to the fate of being the woman who would protect children rather then have them. It had crossed her mind at inopportune times the thought of what if but those were few and far between moments. A cocked brow graces Elia’s face as a gaze returns to the mother of her niece and nephews - to the fury that was theirs and a fierce fighter that had seen combat with her.

“Do I think these talks will go smoothly, Dorne will survive in any case and those who guard her borders will do so until seas run dry. No I don’t imagine they will go smoothly with all this whispered foolishness of the harbinger. What is your opinion, good-sister?” Elia inquires, straightening up. Her face is cool and near enough to being expressionless glancing at one of the children, before hands close to her sides make a motion to suggest she would take one in her arms.

open starter   location to be determined, but it is somewhere around the red keep   cassana had so much more to worry about than a slapping match between the crown and those that aligned themselves with the velaryons. But her house and her husband’s house call upon her to heed the crown’s summoning and so she is here. She smiles softly as she watches her four- and two-year-old sons; anders and  theodan, as she holds her one year old daughter meera in her arms. “think the talks will go smoothly like last time?” her tone clearly sarcastic, as she spoke to the person next to her.  

[wyldwolves]

“You say old friend as if we are the ancient of days - I do not know about you but I am no old woman yet and you have yet to develop many grey hairs. I am certain though my dear friend that we will both age slowly and gracefully.” She smiled hold out her hands in welcome and greeting to the other soul occupying the space. Laughing a hearty chuckle she sighs now knowing the smile was a rare gift. It would be treasured knowing it was given to her. “Both. I do say both and you may have a chance this time to beat me if we are both drinking and fighting at the same time. My coin though will remain in my pocket safely next to yours when i win it. Oh Emir, come, give your Elia a hug. She has missed your face. You are a sight for sore eyes”

closed starter for elia martell @wyldwolves.

he'd felt a pang of envy when he learned of elia's return to the bracing warmth of dorne, longing for the days he could move as he pleased. he would love nothing more than to travel with helaena and defne. emir's attention was torn between king's landing and oldtown, but his heart was with his home, his people, and his unease and fury blended into something that kept him as sharp as the situation required. "i'm told you've regained your strength. i never doubted you, old friend." he nodded his approval, and mustered a rare smile, reserved mainly for his daughter and his wife these days. elia was a cherished friend, for her, he would strive to cheer up. "i'm in dire need of a distraction. spar against me, or drink with me, or do both. lose and your coin will quench both our thirsts."

[wyldwolves]

Elia the ever faithful shadow, the sword and dagger in the darkness was back to herself but a sister shifted into something new. motherhood would never be something Elia desired to taste for herself there didn’t exist a person alive would at this moment could tempt her into a desire to create life. Obella though was blossoming with little sunburst and dornish dragons. Nodding she had been listening, watching her younger sister carefully making small observations before closing the distance between them. “This is understandable. The closer your dragons come to drawing breath the less comfortable you are with any travelling. “I will travel with you or at least among your guards to be sure you are protected.”

The letter was pressing, one she had since expected since it arrived. It remains opened, pressed between digits as she reads through the call of the iron throne. Her gaze shifts to her sister, whom she sets the her gaze on. Obella was in no position to travel, the mere thought of riding dragon back, has her yearning to rip these children from her womb before they had a chance to claw through her themselves. Her body aches, and her mood was far more turbulent than otherwise. “Air travel has made me sick.” She gruels, sipping on the tonic she’s made to help. “I’ll travel through carriage.” Back to the den of lions and dragons, where the keep threatens to fall with rats and traitors. @wyldwolves

[wyldwolves]

“Sister of my heart, star of my life -” she speaks knowing how close they had become in these many months, two women with child dependent on one another and such a support for the other - Ashara was family. After his parents and immediate family held the newborn close arthor had found his auntie’s hands, the aunt named stark. It was an uncomfortable thought knowing that the babe would breath its first breaths here  - that it would not taste the crisp air of the north or the eternal summer that was dorne. Lyanna was quite prepared to forge ahead alone to make a world for her child like she promised Ashara’s children. A stark would always protect its own.  

“You know me to be a stubborn woman but not completely without reason. I need to be here - to represent the few Starks that are left and who was there for you when your youngest came into this world? I’d not want to have my child without my closest friend there with me to be the first to hold them?” She speaks honestly with a smile watching hands busy in a chest lyanna had also become deeply familiar with having seen them crafted and created by the skilled hands. “Nymor is a good man - another one of my dearest friends - I am eager to see him with my own eyes. With Karstarks and Daynes who could ever fear for their safety knowing sun and stars guard the way? I will admit this travelling has been a nightmare, this one loves to kick often. I have a fighter I fear half ready to meet the world and still content to be where they are”

closed starter for lyanna stark @wyldwolves.

lyanna stark was a sister, not of blood, but most definitely of heart. a pair of eyes she trusted to watch over her sons, with as much affection and diligence as her own. she busied herself with her apothecary chest, to make salves to soothe irritated patches of a sensitive babe's skin, and glanced to lyanna with a gentle smile. "i wish you'd heeded my advice and gone north." perhaps she should've preserved silence, but it unsettled her, that she would have her child in king's landing. unwed, unprotected. this was not dorne, nor lyanna's home. "or south, nymor would have allowed it. my mother could have accompanied you. i worry for your safety in the capital."

[wyldwolves]

Faced with the likes of what our father would greet you with -- it is the line that lingers on a tongue it further strengthens her resolve not to allow that sort of life for a child who would face it anyways. Not everyone could be their mother or the family she would build around the babe but Lyanna lets no word of it breath into the world knowing it was an understanding they shared through their shared history as siblings. Alson’s gaze does drop and an inquiry is launched that Lyanna answers. Hands drift to her mid-section, settling there.

“The outset of all our troubles around this time I expect and on my journey north to deliver a nephew to safety. The father is not involved in the child’s life” She states speaking in a voice that drops a conversation into a private and personal exchange between sisters. Lyanna by this time was used to answering this question and countering a request for a father’s identity. “You do know how children are made, Alson” She teases but there comes a note of seriousness “It will be a snow. I do not pretend a queen would legitimize a child before its born or at all.” Lyanna states still wondering if she would bend the knee, if she would betray her chosen king in that way or that even swearing some false fealty that it would be granted. They had, the Starks, asked for aide to feed their people and were told none would come from a dead queen. Was a living and new one different? She sighs “I missed you. It has been too long since we have been a proper family if we were ever allowed to be. You were always my sister - I always claimed you as a Stark."

a small, faint smile forms on alson's lips as lyanna calls her out on her formality. she did not know where she stood with all of the starks but if lyanna could forgive her for what has been done, then perhaps it wont be as bad as she had assumed. after all, eira was also on the other side of a war from their family. perhaps they could be a family again. or at least the siblings could be together. if she never saw her father again, it would be too soon. "sister," alson finally says, taking a step towards her. "forgive me, i just- i was not sure how our reuniting would go. if i would be faced with-" she cut herself off, shaking her head. not wanting to think of the worries and guilt that have plagued her for months. "i am glad to see you." though, as she says it, her eyes drift back down to her stomach. she had heard to news of lyanna marrying. even with the divide in the realm, whispers traveled fast and far, she was bound to have heard something as large as a stark being married. but if she was not then did that mean- was there to be another snow in the family? she couldn't help but wonder what their father thought of this. "what- when did this happen?" she asks finally.

[wyldwolves]

Lyanna in these many months had learned the importance of family; the one one was born to and the one chosen. Rarely did the two intersect especially if one stood on the opposite side of a war and felt so much loss. It had been a pointless waste of life especially when a hand moved to the growing belly of hers knowing her entire focus had shifted in the knowing a wolf of a woman didn't wish to bring a babe into a battlefield or to watch it die one day. A mother wolf was something different - an entirely new animal. She would not be her father though - she would never hide it from her family and she though left vulnerable in an unwed state Lyanna would do right by the child to give it the love a sister was denied. Lyanna had hoped to see her, their Alson and when the white cloak approached almost hesitantly she smiled. "We are family, would you not greet your sister as she is rather than so formally? We are still sisters are we not?"

closed starter for lyanna @wyldwolves the outer yard by the front gate

she had been dreading this moment since vaelora told her that they were summoning all the great houses back to the capital. it was one thing to turn your back on your family through letters, it was another to see their faces again after. in the months since the war began, alson kept telling herself she was not a stark, she was a snow, so turning her back on her siblings was not has bad as if she were a true stark. but she knew that was not true. unlike their father, her siblings were noting but kind to her. lyanna especially since they were so close in age. alson is standing in the yard, her white cloak still attached to her shoulders as she over saw those who were entering the keep. that's when she sees her for the first time in years. lyanna stark. but- her eyes fall to her stomach as she walks into the gates. she was with child? alson hesitates, almost turns and runs to avoid this moment, but instead she steps forward. "lady lyanna," she says in a small voice. "i- erm- welcome to king's landing." her words were formal but filled with fear.

[wyldwolves]

elia found herself in these many months smiling quite often it was strange to have met death on a battlefield and refuse the offer to become its bride. there would be no joke made to say that she would never die, that immortality belonged to her for the shuffling off of her mortal coil was impossible when it was fused together by the power of a dornish sun. She lived now knowing how close it was but that if she fought like hell it was possible to be brought back from the brink of disaster. She smiled often now but again only in certain company for the company enriched her life. Most of a family was whole, together and they had survived this far. Obella was pregnant and larger by the day an there was her dragon. Vaegon earned from Elia the proudest of smiles knowing how hard she had trained with him, relentless even in the state she had been in and now to see her results - yes she was deeply pleased. He would defend Dorne and its future; he would protect his babes. Chuckling she folded arms one over the other, shaking her head with a click of her teeth. "Now we are getting fancy with our knife work, Zaldrīzes. Good form but you will get better. Maybe better than myself one day but-"

There is a flash of the blade that nearly ended her life, her own valyrian steel, whipped forward landing perfectly beside his . "I will not hold my breath for that" She smirks knowing he is aware that she favors him rather highly. He was the best of men for her sister, perhaps a better man than any of them deserved. He after all had become Elia's close friend perhaps even helping aide in healing any divide between sisters both lodged in the middle of their family. This and his little dragonseeds she had brought down to Dorne she adored as if they had her sister's blood. "How long- oh rats are ravenous things but should they seek to devour you know and I know you will be prepared for any outcome. What's on your mind, Zaldrīzes? Vaegon my brother-"

closed starter for elia @wyldwolves the outer yard training corner

much has changed in the months since the ceasefire had been given. his mother was dead, his sister queen, obella was pregnant, and elia was healed. vaegon has grown quite close to his good sister. after she had healed from her injuries, she had kept up her promise to teach him the ways of dornish knife work. their trips to dorne in the past months had done wonders to better himself. he held his dagger in his hand, the one elia had gifted him all those months ago. "the keep begins to fill," vaegon says under his breath to her. he spun the dagger between his fingers before aiming and throwing it at the target across the way. he was not nearly as good as elia but at least he hit his target with near accuracy. "how long do you think before the rats begin to feast?"

[wyldwolves]

for anyone at driftmark / high tide

"I am Lady Tarth, I demand to see my husband. You let others come and go as they damn well please in and out of this maester's ward and how is it that I am barred from entry? I know my husband is not dead they would've told me unless your man of medicine is too afraid to tell a man's wife he is gone. Wynnie calm-" She gestures to the bear lumbering behind her who rumbles with a low growl sensing its mother's aggravated state knowing it had been some time since her husband had been brought back from battle. Zehra grew tired though in not being allowed to see her love or for the children even to be kept away. Their eldest the eight year old had come back crying saying they would not allow him in. "I will not have my bear eat your maester no but we are this man's family is this what a new king does - keeps a woman from her husband? Or is it just this man" Zehra gestures to a maester who scurries away from a mother bear and upset northern woman.

[wyldwolves]

jessica parker kennedy in black sails → 86/?

[wyldwolves]

"How you would suffer so, languishing in that bed if it meant here and now you could keep me forever in a moment. You ruggedly handsome and me made slightly more attractive by your soft state of delusion or would you tell me I was beautiful." She teased gently but eyes that had charted hod figure extensively and in great detail as if there were maps to explore of him saw. Lyanna withdrew her hand in haste, returning it to the jug pressed close to her form like a shield. Her offer had been made and decline but blue eyes read differently, soft terror like a strike a fear gone in the flash it came concealed with a quick retort.

As he stood, Lyanna stretched out, reaching forward over rumpled bedding to return the heavy water jug to its place. For a moment she felt bare- exposed as if laid out there for him waiting for another reaction to brush her off or if he wished for her to snarl and bark risk stealing a moment to do something scandalous - kiss her as if they were not softly at war with another before battle threw them back at one another. Stretching an arm out further to place it more squarely in the center of the side table a knee wobbled causing the perfectly poised woman to lose her center. Falling across the bed she huffed, turning herself over as he searched for his effects. it was an incredible sense of deja vu that came over her, a flash and flood of memories of more recent days before words had been said in haste, in desperation of deep desire that saw them having placed distance between each other. A full chest rose with every breath, corseted bodice concealing a broken heart and a bigger secret she kept from him - a truth she'd rather not reveal just yet. He'd made a face at her, playful and dreamy as it was to look at and a wolf simply stared at his offer to sup together.

"I think I had to force my knee into it - throw my entire body into correcting your slouch. Even if you're shoulder were at full strength I wouldn't let you throw me over it - forget a bark or a snarl i would bite you - just a little. a friendly nibble. Truthfully though, honestly I would let you carry me to the kitchens but alas." She explained, propping up onto elbows looking at the hand still. For a moment she considered what taking his hand would mean. Rough and battle worn hands though slide over over the other pulling herself up and out of his bed to stand beside him now. With deep and dark brown eyes she stared up at the blonde giant beside her, tall and well built despite his injury, wincing the same as she moved a touch too quickly to remotely lie about her ankle being better. Just as his shoulder was sore, her ankle was still no good to do much on let alone dance or run away from him. Lyanna scrunched up her nose returning the same face he'd made earlier offering her arm. "What a pair in deed, Lor. Together we would make a fully functional human being. I don't know how much I will eat though - famished as I am - I am still leery of upsetting a stomach Ashara recommended oat cakes and blander foods. Suppose you'll eat what I won't, hmm? Shall we? We'll move slowly"

"and why is that? why can't i keep you here forever?" here. he would speak only of the space they existed in in that moment. even with the vestiges of poppy dulling his senses, words were not spoken so carelessly, not after their most unfortunate encounter after the second war council. he still bore the scar to prove where she'd pricked skin, miniscule and hidden beneath his beard, but he pressed a finger to it from time to time, until it hurt. "your northmen would enjoy you in that state. savages, the lot of them. that's a compliment, you lot fought like beasts out there, just a shame the rain and mud didn't care for brute strength and nearly swallowed us all the same in the end."

"ruggedly handsome and willing to let you take care of me, is it? so you like your patients feeble? my, lyanna, perhaps i ought to fear your presence in the infirmary." lorent broke into a coarse chuckle, throat still dry, about to reach for the jug in her hand before her touch came to ghost over his face. something passed over blues then, something akin to fear, and lorent retreated entirely from his intent to lean forward. if he gave into her tenderness, lapped it up like the war-worn, crestfallen man he was, he'd surely come apart at the seams. "no sleeping draughts, i've slept plenty. never felt more awake. you reserve your snarl and bark for me."

he stood now, in his tunic and breeches, looking for his belongings. if he was fit enough to stand, he was fit enough to walk to freedom. "you wouldn't have wanted to be there with me, trust me. i'm grateful for your shoving my shoulder back where it belongs, i don't think my slouching added to my rugged comeliness." making a face at her, he dismissed her offer to confide in her, and offered his hand for her to take instead. "i'm famished. what about you? with your ruined ankle, you're not limping, are you? i'd offer to carry you to the kitchens, but alas..." a little shrug of his sore shoulder, which made him wince. "one limping, the other slouching. what a pair we make, lya."

[wyldwolves]

"Then I will tell him - when I can no longer keep it a secret I can tell him then. I do not wish to hide the child or hide myself away - I would wish to give him the option to choose us or himself. Ashara - you are my friend. One of the few I still have left breathing - I pray I never lose you or your children. A union devoid of love or heart I could endure for the child - for the north to be well fed and defended. He may grow to hate the woman they might make him call wife but I would hope beyond all things he would love my child. He is no Varyn - I do not know who my Lorent is anymore but I know enough about him that he would come if I called - if I truly begged for him to be at my side for this - if I asked him to be there. From watching how he was with my nephew I would believe he would be a good father - a great one even if it were in his heart to want it" Lyanna heaves softly, trying to breathe and control tears as she nods. Its not her crying out of a loss of love, nor is it over a man in truth it is because life is happening all at once death, loss and new beginnings with and without those she had believed for the life of her would be there beside her to experience them. She smiles though, warmly at the mention of the little boy she felt so fiercely protective over as if she were his mother too. Olyvar would have a place in the north always with or without a step-father and family Lyanna would make sure a little one knew it was his home just as she did for her nephew ( although eira's boy was much larger and far older ).

"A happy, healthy mother - this child's mother owes her friend a life for such a statement and she vows the same. always. starks do not betray their word, this one will not break this oath to you sister of my heart" Lya swears softly breathing now as she takes the plain and unexciting oat cake attempting to stomach it. "I'll try some of this. I will see the maester if you say her is kinder than most, if you say he will treat me with respect and keep this quiet. Ginger tea sounds refreshing. You are too good a woman for us northerners, Ashara. Are you sure its is fine I rest here with you? Alecor might believe I now live with the two of you as often as I am visiting and well as much as we will need each other"

"winter roses sound like a wondrous sight. you will have to take us there when they come into bloom, all of us." both hands curled around lyanna's, warm, soft touch of a friend who would not leave her side until she was ready to rest. "he is not my friend, you are. i would not speak a word of it to him even if you did not care to keep it a secret." she spoke of her increase in size, and ashara smiled knowingly -- for a few more weeks, it may be attributed to rich foods still, but after that, it would grow more difficult to hide. "i understand you need time, to process it all. but what will you do when it can no longer be concealed?" a question she likely had no answer to yet. "you may find he will agree to wed you once he knows, but since he has rejected you before, i doubt it would be for the reasons of the heart. such a union, devoid of love, brought about only by a shared responsibility for your child… well, you know i could not stand it."

she loosened their hold to guide a hand to her cheeks, in an effort to dry tears. "i wrote to olyver's father when i was a little over five moons. i gave him ample time, to read my letter and to return to starfall, to witness the birth of our child. dorne would not have required marriage of us, or a name other than sand for our boy. varyn never answered, he never came to see us. when i asked the truth of him, he told me he had never received the letter. only after i wed him did i come to understand he had received it, and burnt it." she inhaled deeply, and exhaled, before speaking again. "i was not cross with him, i am not cross now. i've no respect for him at all. my boy smiles brighter than the sun, he laughs, eats with a healthy appetite, walks, tries to talk. he is well, and he will grow up and know his mother to be truly content, which was impossible beside the man who sired him. your babe needs a healthy, happy mother, and their mother needs helping hands. you have my support and my promise to love and protect your child, as you love and protect mine."

"the maester is kinder than most of his sort, he will treat you with respect. --here, try a little. these are plain, easy on the stomach." she had plated oatcakes for lyanna, opting for sugar-dusted cakes for herself. "leave the tea, i will have them make fresh ginger tea for you instead. it helps settle nausea."

[wyldwolves]

They hadn't found love as teenagers no but grown people, no sort of soft love nor were they in love immediately knowing their wedding had been the first they ever saw of one another. It had been an arrangement she agreed to and didn't fight - Zehra had once resigned herself to being alone in a marriage not imagining he would be her gift. It was better this way, Zehra found his time more precious as if they would have forever to fall deeper in love uncovering the person within. "You, the great Edwyn Tarth would kneel upon the cold hard ground of Bear Island for your wife? I will have to tell Edrik our friend you'd be so willing to bow to a northerner. I jest. Don't say such things to tempt the gods to take you away from me - they are jealous often of things more comely then their faces your seven. Mine though you know will always protect a daughter of their lands and the man she loves. Cubs. Perhaps we will get them a cub after all or Wynnie our old girl might find a mate" She muses

Shaking her head Zehra laughs softly. "If we were to tempt the thought of another child in the future at some time - bear or otherwise I would like to name a girl Brienne. Its a beautiful nam, strong and fierce but beautiful. Our children love you and I would wish you take care of yourself more often. I do not plan on being a widow in this lifetime so you must eat and well. Don't talk about it yet - it will come when it comes"

"Your breath and voice are mine. I owe the gods my very soul for blessing you and our children. I owe them much for your existence. Had I known that the sounds of a bear's roar meant that the most beautiful woman of Bear Island, of the North, of Westeros would be my wife: I would have knelt my knee on your homeland years ago, far before fate destined us to meet." His gruff voice whispered back, not wanting to wake their children. "I would. They'd have their companions and it would teach them patience and loyalty. Oh… my dear I would not put you through that if you do not want to. I am more than content with our children and the amount that we have. I am famished, I have failed to take care of my hunger more than once these days. I am not looking forward to the day when I leave your side."

[wyldwolves]

"There isn't a question," Lyanna states as firmly as she can, aware a brother hadn't implied that she had lied to just anyone or had been so careless as to fail in taking precautions to stop the starting of what was growing inside of her. It was too early to feel any movement, to early to know more than the fact she carried life and one irrefutable fact that there was only one man who could've fathered Lyanna's child. If she were more romantic-minded at this moment, more inclined to be excited, she would blush, warmth flooding her face and a flutter to her voice. She would shine like the sun, a wash with happiness and glowing as brightly as the sun. A she-wolf would've been no happier in that single moment, but that reality had gone out with the dream of being happily in love, and in the distance, she could hear the gate closing, hear the shutting of a way out, knowing a man would see nothing other than a trap laid out for him unintentionally sprung.

Fingers dig gently into the fabric at her abdomen, the soft bit of cloth covering what in the coming weeks would be something even the best seamstress would be unable to hide from the world, concealing a child that would like its parents before it desire to be noticed and noticeable. Did she have to say his name? Could she go again years as had become the customer without saying it until a Karstark would speak it to her, pulling a memory of a man back into existance? In another day and age entirely, a time long since dead though it were, but years ago, the girl who wore a crown of wildflowers in her hair and danced barefoot in a garden paradise would've flown into the arms of her only beloved - she would've never needed to say the name. Lya would never have needed to have this conversation with the heir in the north because she would not be in the north. Lyanna would be where her heart so agonizingly ached to be the moment lungs drew in her first breath of sweet air, touching foot in the reach longing to call it home. Lyanna would be no Stark but a Tyrell and a wife, and there she would, in contentment, laying midst a verdant landscape with a burgeoning belly curling soft locks of golden sunlight between her fingers during a lazy afternoon. It was a good dream. It was a dead one, and life didn't wait for either their permission to begin again or at all for them.

Breathing again with eyes open and looking to her brother, she moved forward to settle softly at her knees, at the feet of the chair he wheeled around in to put her head against his knee or the side of the chair - whichever he would allow his foolish sister to cling to gently. Concealing her face there she breathed before looking up to find his face, to search for his loving concern or his complete disapproval or a sister he cared so deeply for - for his heir so long as he was unmarried knowing in truth she had secured their family line that the starks wouldn't die with them or be called by some other name as Eira's children were. "My Lorent. The one who saved your life - that is the father of my child. Your heir brother didn't intend to give you an heir this way but my child will be as much a wolf as it is a rose"

"we currently are in no position to convince anyone to join our cause, lyanna. persuasion requires credibility, and monterys, wonderful as he may be, is not the king who raised the banner against visenya." edrik shook his head and looked afar at the waves crashing evenly against driftmark's shore. his sister was eager to help, and strong-hearted in their cause but as hand, he knew they needed more than just moral aspiration now. "but i shall take your advice in consideration, sister. the vale, if they have yet to send their army to visenya, would be a vital addition into our force."

what his sister steered the conversation toward next did surprise him. her mention of an illness did alarm him, and he reached for her hand again. it surely was not a common cold that would pass by with the right remedy, or else why would she be seeking him out to inform about it?

her hand moved to her torso and it seemed as if the truth became apparent before she could utter the word. i am with child, her words hung in the air as edrik deliberated his next words. "yes, i would agree you should stay away from the battlefield next time." he let out a soft laugh before looking back at the sea. "who is the father of the babe?"

[wyldwolves]

Elia sat down. When the lion before her commanded it she sat, head cocked to the side and silently surprised even at herself that words he said both landed like heavy hits and still made shocking sense to her in a world that seemed to swim with the nonsense that she had been drowning in since before she could breathe here in this awful city. Low blows, yes, insults fired right back at her, and still, the last words he spoke rang as clear as day. Sitting back in the chair, she only watched him a while. Varyn Lannister spoke truth and sense, and Elia had been quietly veiled rage for the longest. Had she been schooled, heavens no, but had Varyn won the conversation - perhaps? She really was no better than him, and she was not him. There was some attraction there, but it would serve no one, and the possibility of him ever respecting her was not there - near enough to the possibility of someone actually caring enough about her to know leaving her was the worst betrayal.

Watching him, a jaw tightened and flexed as she heard more talk of her sister, green with envy and jealousy over a person she did care deeply about. Obella, as willing as Elia was to fight, still took every good thing, and Elia pretended she willingly gave to the one parents named heir. Fucking hell, the Lannister lion had humbled the deadliest of snakes, and what shred of pride Elia had would never allow him to know this. Maybe at one point, she had wanted to fuck him, to feel something more than hate that had no bases to fill a gnawing divide in her life hating him more because they had gotten off on the wrong foot and that it was her failure in falling in love with someone who would only ever dash hopes and dreams letting her fall into becoming this creature that seeped with poison. She had nothing else that was hers and even then was it hers?

Sitting back, he spoke of children, causing another twitch of a muscle, knowing how the gods were well aware of how Elia denied wanting to be a mother but would never have children of her own, envious of this man and sad for him at the same time, knowing if she were him how she would've raged something such as that life was taken from her. The world would burn, and in truth, the impish little voice in her head, the dark one that curled around thoughts, told her that she would - even against Alecor, who was a friend - have a blade to his neck to demand he return what was hers. Possessive as Elia was in truth, Elia knew the truth that she would be the snarling, venomous bite to sink into a throat to take back what had been hers. Damn him the way he spoke about Dorne and how she, because her sister required her here because had fooled herself into believing that as a Martell, she must stand by whatever Obella declared as their princess heir that this was unavoidable, but gods, were he right. Internally, Elia was screaming, but quietly she sat, legs crossed one over the other, watching him quietly. Daynes rebelled - Elia would've squashed such a rebellion quickly and definitively. Sitting across from Varyn Lannister … she realized she did not hate him as much as Elia forced into herself to believe she did. Breathing Elia broke her gaze away from him, withdrawing a hand. Pressing fingers to her lips, Elia gaze a sharp whistle waving down an eager barkeep snapping to attention.

"Barkeep, we need more wine." Elia commanded, eyes shifting to the man before her, quiet still in regards to him before hearing the staff member scurry off. "No pretending any more then- drink then with me - if you will drink with me?"

"I can shave a spiders arse with a wooden toothpick across twenty yards. The size of the blade is of little importance, I assure you. As is the amount of force." he rolled his eyes as she continued on, drawing assumptions out of thin air as if she had any idea who he truly was, what he truly wanted. "Loathe you? Elia, I do not care for you enough to loathe you. I do not know you enough to wish for you to be anything except; out of my fucking face. If I wished for Obella, I would seek her out, 'stead of searching for her in her irritating sister. Which is what you should be doing with Cerion, since you claim it is him you wish for in the first place. Go --" he will point ahead, nonchalant and unbothered. "Find him." Another pile of shit spills off her lips and he'll frown. "Or maybe the reason we never have a decent talk is because you approach me with all the manners of a defected sewer rat. I know Dorne is not renowned for teaching young ladies how to behave, but perhaps if you attempted a conversation with me at all without immediately resorting to crass words and subtle insults, I would not be so keen to spew 'disgusting nonsense' as you so eloquently put." Varyn was sick truly, of all the killers and the snakes and the spiders that crawled and slithered around him, pretending they were somehow better than him because their sins were hidden and words better chosen. Self-righteous pretenders, and actors and charlatans. "You need not admit your attraction, its existence is of no value. Anyone who is attracted to my brother does not posses a refined enough palette for me to respect." Her following words jump from one end to another damn-near making him disoriented. A tired sigh leaves his lips and he leans further back into his seat. "We are nothing alike, princess." he'll say calmly, and yet it was a fact. "I do not fight for my siblings, I fight for the realm." he says, once again calmly, once again as a fact. And then he will visibly cringe at her following words as a sudden laugh pushes through. "I would be ruined for all other women, huh? By you? Do you colour yourself better than other women, Elia? I have had your sister, I need not even try you to know you cannot measure up to her...talents." it was a low blow, perhaps, but if she'd truly believed what she was saying then Varyn had finally met someone more self-absorbed than himself. Sex was no competition, after all, and he was not delusional enough to believe that even if it had been, he would be the one winning. Seemed she did not share in that sentiment. Pity. For he would have liked fucking her a whole lot more than he liked speaking with her. "If you wish to worry for my child, you better worry I do not come across his traitor mother, or his traitor stepfather. Perhaps if you and your family were less occupied sucking up to the Queen, and more focused on managing your vassals, Dorne would not be at the brink of a civil war and Starfall would not have flocked to the enemy the first chance they got." a skill issue, truly, the heir princess of Dorne belonged at Sunspear, and if she could not be there in person then she should have assigned the role to someone capable enough to assume it. Elia would certainly not qualify, having had the intelligence of a pond fish, but it is not as if she was any more useful here -- spending her evening berating a man she apparently loathed. "No." he'll say at her order, looking at the offered hand. "You sit." he'll retort. "Sit and stop pretending you are here to optimise my battle skills, or protect some child you know nothing of. Because you are not. Matter o' fact, I think you do not even know why you are here."