LONE WOLF

there was something in the raise of adam's brow and the slight shake of his head that felt like a rebuke, though the logical part of her brain knew it to be not so. still, her cheeks heated up, and she averted her gaze downwards to their feet. that rational part inside her was telling her that he was right, and yet her instinct was still to excuse others far easier than she would ever excuse herself. she bit back the urge, and nodded slightly. "sorry," she apologised before she could think to stifle that, too. "i don't know why i do it." except that she did, she just didn't want to bore him by explaining it to him.

she looked up at him then, and for a moment, did nothing, said nothing, simply allowed her dark eyes to find his. it was something the two had in common, far more likely to be found alone than in the company of others. but with dacey, it was shyness and anxiety that kept her isolated, that had stirred all that guilt and uneasiness that she could not seem to disperse no matter how she tried. she did not think it was the same for adam, that his own solitary nature was a result of any sort of internal worry, more that he just preferred it that way. "you're right," she agreed with him again, though something in her tone remained unconvinced that it was not her fault.

she thought of hadrian, but could not conjure an image of him as a crawling, curious, near-toddler, with cherubic rosy cheeks and fat little fists. when she thought of her nephew, it was still as a small bundle of blankets with a tiny, sleeping face in the middle, sleeping peacefully. "i ought to see him soon," she agreed. "i'd hate for him not to know who i am. though i suppose he wouldn't recognise me now." and yet, better to rectify that when he was still young enough, that his core memories had not yet formed and she still had time to be part of them.

they were less dancing, and more swaying in vague time with the music, a pretence that allowed them to continue their conversation uninterrupted. it gave her the opportunity to peer into his face, trying to gauge if there was any emotional weight to what he was saying under the steady way he spoke the words. her teeth came to rest on her bottom lip, brow furrowing in thought. "it would be a risk," she said, eventually. "you could marry the kindest woman in the north, and there would be no guarantees that she would consider hadrian as one of her own. especially if... well, if future children are on the cards." she said it not to plant doubts in adam's head, but because she could see the doubts were already there in the way he scoffed at the idea. it was enough to leave her unsure if such a cause of action was for the best. "hadrian will not remember what it was to have a mother," her tone was gentle, but matter-of-fact. "he may wonder at what he is missing, but this life will be all he knows. his normal. that need not be a burden for him to carry." she was not good with her words, uncertain she had phrased it the way she meant to, though she hoped adam grasped the quiet reassurances she was trying to convey.

it was at times like this that she wished she could be in more than one place at the same time, that she could tear herself into pieces and share the fragments between the places she needed to be. she could leave a scrap here in winterfell, to continue quietly gathering the things others let fall to the wayside to ease the weight on their own shoulders. astrid and cassana would, too, get their own pieces of dacey, and a fourth would be sent out to search for the sister who had vanished without trace. and one for adam, so loneliness need not fall on moat cailin, so that if his son could not know a mother, he would know an aunt, and perhaps that would be the next best thing. that was something she could not do, though, and so instead, she thought for a moment about where she was needed most, and where she might be of most use. "if you're sure it would not be an imposition," she began. "then perhaps i could arrange a visit once our guests have returned to their own homes. i'll try not to get under foot."

#dacey: 03 #adam's queue.

Adam’s gaze softened when his sister apologized. He felt a familiar pang in his chest, the kind that came from recognizing how easily Dacey turned blame on herself for the smallest of things. The lone wolf of House Stark let out slow, soft breath. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Dacey. Truly,” he offered in a gentle tone. “You care, and that's all that matters”. It was as simple and as true as that. There was no fault that should fall upon her, or him, or anyone, when there were so many moving pieces occupying their thoughts and their time. Especially when the North had gone through so much turmoil in the past year. When their own family had gone through their inner storms and grief as well. “There was a lot happening,” he added after a moment, his tone somewhat quieter, “For all of us”.

He didn’t elaborate on whether he meant something general for the realm or specific for the family. He didn't speak about the battles, nor Jon's death. He didn't speak about the quiet downward spiral he'd gone through due to the xiangliao substance either. How it gave him unnatural strength and agility in battle, only to start chipping away at his sanity once the war ended and he struggled to quit consuming it. Only Owen knew when he first started taking it, and only Cassana learned about the strange episodes it awoke in him as his mind began to fell the side effects. To the rest of his siblings, all of it remained hidden, secret, brushed away as Adam's solitary, gloomy nature. He felt some guilt now, seeing how Dacey carried so much weight on herself, and knowing how he played a part, even if unwillingly, in putting it there. “Like I said, I’m trying to mend that. To not let circumstance become my excuse for silence and distance,” Adam said after a moment, attempting to keep doing better going forward.

This life will be all he knows. Dacey's words about Hadrian resonated with him, lingering more than he expected. It was true that his son would only know the world he was given, not what was missing. And whether he married again or not, it was also true that having a woman at his side did not necessarily mean she would embrace Hadrian as a son. He tried not to dwell on that for now, however, instead focusing on the one thing he could act on: opening up to his sister, and doing what he could to make sure Dacey felt welcomed, embraced. “Now’s the perfect time to see him, even more so than when he was younger, I'd say,” the Commander of the Kingsguard said, a faint hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “He’s not the tiny bundle anymore. He’s curious now. He listens, he laughs, he's articulating words”. He was truly beginning to recognize the world around him, and the people in it. “So he’ll know you soon enough, Dacey. Now he can truly reach out to you and remember your face,” he added with genuine warmth in his voice.

So Adam was all set on having his sister visit Moat Cailin soon. When she spoke of the timing for her visit, after their brother's celebrations ended, he nodded in agreement. “It would be no imposition, please don't think it would be so,” he said firmly, reassuring her that her company would truly be welcomed. “It would make me glad to have you there. It truly would”. Hadrian would be joyous for the visit as well, he was sure. He was bound to welcome the attention and affection Dacey would surely give him. “I’ll see to it that a room is made ready for you at Moat Cailin. It will be yours whenever you wish to stay”. Not just for this upcoming visit, but always. Winterfell would always be home to the Starks, but he could only hope his keep could be a second place Dacey and his other siblings would feel like a place they belong to, where they could have their own space as well. That is was a place where Adam would always welcome them with open arms.

she sat as though the railing had been made for her, not for safety but for quiet reverie, the weight of her slender frame balanced in a way that seemed at once casual and carefully placed. her dark purple shoes glimmered faintly where the moonlight caught them, and when she shifted, she nearly lost one; it tilted at the edge before she pressed it back onto her heel with the faintest of movements, pretending not to notice at all. the night wrapped itself around her like another gown, deep indigo and endless.

the sounds of the hall behind them were muffled now, nothing but a low hum of laughter, clinking cups and distant song; yet out here the rush of rivers was sharper, the faint snap of some unseen animal moving through the underbrush more distinct.

naelys velaryon tilted her head back slightly, letting her eyes travel upwards, but it was not the stars that held her gaze—it was the dark ink between them, the unbroken stillness where the heavens seemed to fold into themselves. she thought, distantly, that she had always preferred that part of the sky. “i would come to winterfell,” she murmured at last, her voice soft and pale as the mist rising off the water below. “i should like to.” her lips curved faintly, the sort of smile that did not fully arrive. “i used to, didn’t i? i don’t quite know where the time went. it only seems a few winters ago, and yet…” she let the thought drift like smoke, her eyes fixed on some memory she did not name. she had always imagined that she and adam would simply come across one another, the way tide and current meet without thinking. to realise otherwise, even for a moment, left her oddly adrift.

she wondered if he would hear the quiet apology folded inside her words, though she did not say it aloud. she wondered if he would sense the part of her that still felt like the girl who sat in his chair all those moons ago, waiting for someone to tell her where she belonged. but she only sat there, her hands loosely clasped around her knee, her hair moving faintly with the night wind, her gaze fixed on the dark sky as though it were a sea she might dive into at any moment. "time didn't want to be seen, i think. i'm sorry adam."

her gaze flicked to him when he scoffed, not defensive but faintly amused, and to her own surprise a soft laugh escaped her. it sounded lighter than she felt. the north had always drawn such reactions from its sons, that quiet iron pride like old stone; he wore it like another skin. she lifted her hands to her cheeks in mock astonishment, as though his reaction had truly shocked her, and for an instant she looked younger, almost girlish, before the expression faded. “kings landing,” she said slowly, almost tasting the words as she spoke them. “driftmark. braavos. the canals, the towers. they all blur in my head now. i go where i’m needed, i suppose. or where deimos and rhaena go. driftmark is so often empty these days; my family don’t think it right for me to be alone.” she shrugged, the movement small and loose, like a petal tilting on the water.

“home is under the sea. everything else just… remains.” her tone did not carry bitterness, only a distant kind of truth, as though she were narrating a dream aloud rather than speaking of her own life.

when he spoke of his son she listened without interruption, her body still but her eyes alive, holding his face the way one holds a candle flame in the dark. she found it strange to think of adam stark as a father. still she pictured the quiet, gloomy young man whose chair she had once taken in winterfell’s hall, awkward and uninvited, and he had never corrected her. and yet there was a boy now, somewhere far to the north, following his footsteps in snow. “and he'll know,” she said quietly. “he'll know.” she did not finish the thought; perhaps she could not. parents try to be there until they aren’t. until sickness comes, until blood spills on a napkin or dragons breathe fire, and then they are gone. she thought of her own father, always away for months at a time, and for the first time she wondered if he had chosen to be away. had she ever truly thought about that? she realised she hadn’t.

she traced a pattern into the dust of the railing with one finger, little loops and spirals like seashells or fragments of a forgotten sigil. “i never really thought about any of it,” she said after a moment, her voice almost an echo; she still does not fully expand on her words, and yet in her mind it was already clear. she sounded not sad but distant, as though speaking of a story she’d once read but couldn’t quite remember. adam’s words drifted to her—thoughts that sneak up on you, thoughts that shake you most—and she turned her head slightly, the lilac of her eyes soft and unreadable. the question came, as it always did: what’s on your mind?

for a heartbeat she almost told him. almost told him she didn’t picture a future for herself, that she couldn’t see it, that she sometimes wondered if something would happen before it could ever arrive. instead she only shrugged again, the gesture like a ripple across still water, mirroring him without realising it. “i don’t even know what i meant,” she murmured. silence settled between them then, but it was not an uncomfortable one. she let herself lean a little further back on the railing, careful but unafraid, her dark purple shoes catching the light again as she swung her leg softly. somewhere below, a fish leapt from the river with a sound like a coin dropped in a bowl, and she thought it was a fitting sound for the moment—small and bright and gone before one could see it. "i would tell you to come and see us, but....you don't like him."

she said nothing, as though her image of the green king in her head was one he would wordlessly be able to understand. even naelys knew the northerners and the greens hated one another; too much blood, too much history.

#naelys: 01 #event: litha festival #adam's queue.

That balcony was just theirs, and the Northern prince silently cherished the peace that settled between them. The laughter and music from the Litha festival felt too distant, an entire world away with how little mind Adam paid to them. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she balanced on the railing, carefree and serene. He said nothing. He simply continued to stand at a good distance, close enough that he would be able to react if she lost her balance. And he looked up, only half-paying attention to the night sky and the lines he could imagine between stars to draw constellations in his mind. He simply took in the quiet and Naelys' company, and the way she held a special sort of charm to steady him more than anyone else could. It was a kind of peace he rarely found, and even more rarely shared.

I would come to Winterfell, I should like to, she said. He lowered his gaze from the heavens back to Nellie. A small smile graced his lips, the sort that managed to bring a gleam of joy to his eyes as well. A man of few words, Adam gave a soft nod in response. It was his own silent and sincere way of indicating he was glad she intended to visit.

Somehow the night had led them to reflect on times past, and how easily moments, days, years could pass them by. Time didn't want to be seen. That notion stuck with him and made him wonder. Was that truly so? Or was it seen, right there before them, and they were simply not paying enough attention? So often one could get lost in what had been and what could be, and not on what was right there and then before them. “Time has a way of slipping by without us noticing,” he murmured in response, his shoulders lifting into a subtle shrug. He tried not to dwell on the past, if he were honest, but some moments could be missed all the same. A smile, a laugh, a touch, a glance. “I’m glad you’ll be coming back,” he added then, knowing there were things better spoken out loud than shared only in silences and glances. Her apology, though, caught him off guard. His brow furrowed slightly as he looked at her. “Why are you sorry?” he asked. “If it’s for the time or the distance, there’s no need to apologize”. Why should she apologize when she was still so dear? When she also held space for him? “It’s all well between us, Nellie. It always is”. And always would be, he suspected, for there always had been that special ease between them.

He listened quietly as she spoke of moving between Driftmark, King’s Landing, Braavos. It sounded to him like the Velaryons, once so proud and close-knit, were more scattered these days. Pieces of a shipwreck drifting at sea. Adam thought, if only briefly, of his own family. The siblings, despite flaws and different temperaments, somehow managed to find their way back to each other. They tried to stay a pack. But the prince didn’t let that thought linger. It wasn’t fair to compare when circumstances were so vastly different. And when the Velaryon lady said her home was under the sea, his eyes lingered on her for a while, trying to discern the meaning behind the words. Was the ocean, the underwater scenery around Driftmark her home? Or was she dressing her words in symbolism, and she meant to say what represented home to her was drowned and sunken? He hoped it was not the latter, for he would hate to learn Nellie had lost something so precious... “Well,” he said after a few heartbeats of silence, “I hope whatever place, whatever feeling is home to you… that it’s something that can remain as well”. His words were simple, and perhaps not as eloquent as he wished he could have made them sound, but there was a special gentleness in them. A wish for her and her future.

When she spoke of Hadrian, her certainty, the way she looked at him as if she truly believed he was doing right by his boy, managed to stir something in him. At times he felt certain and at times he felt hesitant when it came to his son. But for all the doubts that weighed on him from time to time, Adam felt gratitude for her reassurance. “Thank you,” he said with a subtle nod. And his eyes stayed on her as the lady leaned back against the railing again. The lone wolf shifted imperceptibly closer, his subtle motion that of someone quietly guarding even without needing to state so. She could enjoy herself, and he wouldn't let her fall.

Her demeanor shifted only subtly before she spoke again, and he understood exactly who she meant without her having to spell it out. He had not opinions to share at present about the man who ruled over her realm. Starks and Velaryons had been friends for years, and the relationship he continued to see between Owen and Deimos appeared to indicate there would be no ending that ancient, true friendship. “You can tell me to visit, if you wish it,” he said in a tone lighter than before. “I like you more than I dislike him. That’s enough of a reason to visit”.

the more space they put between the two of them and the conversation she had not wanted to be a part of, the more dacey relaxed, the tension visibly lifting from her shoulders as the anxiety she had been feeling slowly unfurled. she had not anticipated his rescue, for she had come to believe that her presence simply slipped under everyone's notice, with no expectation that even a brother would see her discomfort plain enough to intervene, but she was glad that he did.

"i did," she admitted, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "it wasn't his fault, not really," she attempted to explain, though the rest of the words were lost in her throat, about how much it felt like the entire room was pressing in, and how the entire time he spoke, she could think of little else but saying the wrong thing, of upsetting him, of embarrassing her family, and that had left her unable to say anything at all. "if you hadn't have interrupted i probably would have stood there smiling like a fool until the end of the night. at least now he can find a more attentive conversation partner."

dacey was not a gifted dancer, not loose enough in her body for it to translate to anything that looked good, even if all her steps were technically in place, nor was she used to it. adam was no more skilled than she, more at ease in armour than on the dancefloor, but he seemed to handle these things better than dacey did. "i don't remember the last time she danced," she admitted. "i do remember the last time we spoke, though, and that was long enough ago that i'm a little ashamed," the smile on her face turned apologetic, though it was understandable. both had been consumed with their own duties, so if nothing else, tonight offered a chance to leave them to the wayside, just once. "how is my nephew?" she asked of his son. "i'm sure he has grown much since i saw him last." small children grew quickly, she knew, and the guilt was resurfacing again that she was not playing a bigger role in his little life.

#dacey: 03 #adam's queue.

Adam’s brow lifted faintly at his sister's response. Whether Dacey realized it or not, what she said sounded an awful lot like she was excusing the man, defending the lord's obliviousness while she was left to stand in discomfort and smile. The Commander shook his head slightly. “Not his fault, perhaps. But one can't excuse a man for being blind enough not to notice he’d lost his audience halfway through what he was saying”. Surely no one could be that oblivious. But Adam knew his sister had always been too kind, occasionally setting aside her own comfort for the sake of others. That was what made the protective side in Adam reveal itself, not to coddle Dacey, but to intervene in a practical, harmless way.

The music played around the Stark siblings, and they did their best to follow the steps. They were by no means accomplished dancers, but at the very least, they did not bring shame to their name in public either. The prince's hand shifted to his sister's back, steadying her through a turn as they swayed with the pairs around them. “It’s not your fault we’ve not spoken in a while,” Adam said, giving her a pointed look. He'd noticed in her words what sounded like yet another admission of guilt. “We both have our duties, places to be, and that does not always align. Besides, I've made a habit of being solitary all my life. I'm still working on mending that”. There was no self-pity in the prince's words, more the simple acknowledgement of a lifelong habit or way of being. Over the past years, however, he had put a conscious effort into being more present with his siblings and to ensure they knew they had in him someone to talk to and rely on. Solitude might have been his nature, but he had chosen to change some of it, and he was still learning how to balance that.

At the mention of his son, the demeanor of the lone wolf of House Stark eased into something gentler. “He grows so quickly. You'll be surprised when you next see him,” he said with undeniable warmth in his voice. Hadrian was no longer just a babe who needed to be held, he already crawled and was eager to explore on his own. “He's healthy and a sweet little boy. I do what I can for him, though I'd be lying if I said I do not worry about how much he'll carry losing his mother so young”. Hadrian wasn't the first boy nor would he be the last, to lose his mother so close after childbirth. “I've started wondering if perhaps I ought to start looking to marry again,” he said with a subtle scoff, for the idea didn't particularly appeal to him. He had no intention to replace Elissa as Hadrian's mother, nor Sarra as the one who took his heart with her when she died. But he knew he had to weigh what could be best for his son, whether Hadrian ought to have a motherly figure growing up.

“You could come to Moat Cailin to visit, Dacey,” he offered, extending the invitation to his little sister, if her duties allowed it. “You could stay as long as you wish. I'm sure Hadrian will be glad of his aunt's company and attention,” Adam added in a more light-hearted way. “And I'd be glad to end our habit of not spending as much time in each other's company”.

it was only the slight tinkle of jewllery from around her thigh and the movement of deep indigo silk that indicated the manner in which the youngest daughter of driftmark had all but slinked onto the balcony's edge, seamlessly and uncaringly, no doubt oblivious to the facial change upon that of the prince of winter. sat on the edge of the railing, her hands wrapped loosely around one knee drawn close to her chest, the other leg swinging softly into the open air. she liked the way the chill bit at her ankles—reminded her she was still here, still flesh and bone, and not some hazy thought lingering too long in the back of her own mind.

there was an endless view of woodland before her, stretched beyond everything she saw - the tips of pines, and the sight of it made her feel strangely anxious.

she suddenly pictured being lost, wandering through such thick woodland for days, desperate for some sense of someone; and it caused a light chill to creep over the bottom of her spine. "then i shall come," she added after a moment, the corners of her lips lifting into something soft and fleeting. "to winterfell. i haven’t been in years, and it’s always strange when people speak of it, like it’s a place carved from old bones and frost, not somewhere people live and laugh and drink too much." she tilted her head, eyes flicking back to him; she remembered all too well the level of drunken behaviour she had seen many a night in winterfell's great hall.

"besides, the cold feels honest...the chill of the capital feels false." there was no literal cold in kings landing, but it were merely another metaphor; the thoughts, the tensions, the looks. the eyes of a king who glared down upon her with a thunder of a dragon's breath. the embarrassment. the shame. the quiet laughter from courtiers as she walked by them now, no doubt happy to relish in the public embarrassment of a velaryon again - after jaehaerys had stripped her brother of his rightful title.

naelys looked at the figure beside her through a veil of dark lashes, and for a moment, said nothing. it wasn’t because she didn’t have anything to say—it was because she could. silence was not uncomfortable with him. it never had been. she did not contemplate whether it ever could be, as she often did not contemplate on what ifs when it came to the days that were still to come.

"i think young hadrian is fortunate," she murmured eventually, her voice soft as the wind that skimmed over the tops of the riverlands trees. "to have you. i’ve heard things said around me… people talk, people think i am not listening. they always talk about who’s raising whom. who is warded where. but they always say your name. that you’re... there." her gaze flicked over to him properly then, searching his features, not for confirmation—she already knew it to be true—but for some kind of understanding.

"i think it’s rare. what you do—" her voice quietened, as if even saying it too loudly might shatter something fragile. she did not finish her sentence; because she knew how pathetic it all sounded. to speak well on his reported presence and involvement as a father; would she have thought to do the same for a woman?

her fingers traced a small circle into the dust on the railing, thoughtful as her gaze seemed to fixate upon it; it were as though she were etching seashells onto the balcony, to leave remnants of what this moment was when it was all over and left behind. "i don’t think i ever truly thought about any of that," she said suddenly, almost as though she’d interrupted her own train of thought; and to her own mind, it seemed so obvious what she was speaking of - in reality, she had not specified at all. "it is easier picture it as the shape of water. moving before you can grab it." she didn’t sound sad, exactly. more... distant, too uncharacteristically matter of fact to be leaving the lips of nellie velaryon. as though it were a book she had once read, but could no longer recall the words.

#naelys: 01 #adam's queue.

Nellie moved to sit on the railing as if she were sitting on a comfortable sofa in her own home. She had that peculiar quality of moving almost as if she were floating. Instinctively, slowly, the prince moved to lean against the railing himself, quietly guarding that the Velaryon lady wouldn't fall down. His posture appeared relaxed, however, even if he was ready to spring into action if it were necessary.

“It's been some time,” he mused, taking in the scenery Riverrun offered with its tall trees and surrounding rivers, its night sky and scattered stars. “You used to visit more often in the past. It was nice having you as our guest. You didn't get drunk and cause chaos like so many others,” he half-joked. Her company had never felt like a burden, though, or like he was meant to entertain someone for the sake of politeness. His quieter nature had always merged well with Naelys' own introversion.

Her comparison of Winterfell and King's Landing drew out a slight scoff from Adam. As a true Northman, the South never sat too well with him. He wasn't compatible with the sort of environment the Targaryens of old had made of their capital, and that continued to exist in the present. He too appreciated the directness and honesty that Nellie spoke of, which was in the veins of many Northern folk and their lands. “Do you stay at King's Landing often? I always thought you spent most of your time in Driftmark,” he said, curious to know what circumstances looked like for Naelys these days. He had been under the impression that the Velaryon seat could be a respite from the pressures and burdens of the Crownlands' capital.

The Commander's expression shifted slightly when Nellie spoke about Hadrian. About what she heard others say about him and his son. Adam Stark wasn't a creature of warmth, but his son certainly had brought out a much more tender side to him that he had no idea could have existed within him. With Elissa's untimely passing, it truly had fallen on his shoulders to be a worthy parent for Hadrian. “I try to be there,” was all Adam could say. It was the effort he was making to ensure his little boy grew up with a sense of being cared for, protected, endlessly cherished. “I just don't want him to grow up—” the prince paused. To grow up like me, was the initial thought he had. Burdened, sad, isolated. He had been fortunate to grow up with his siblings, of course. But there had also been an unspoken weight... A burden his father willingly or unwillingly placed upon him. That wasn't something he wished to repeat with his boy. “I don't even know what I was trying to say,” he said with a light scoff. “Hadrian doesn't have his mother, and I hope I can make up for that absence in some way if I'm there by his side as much as I can, I suppose”.

Adam wasn't entirely sure what Naelys meant when she spoke about new ways of thinking about a subject, about the ephemeral nature of it. It happened sometimes, the change of direction in conversations, and the lone wolf of House Stark simply tried to follow the trail she left for him like footsteps on the sand. “I find those are the thoughts that shake me most. The ones that sneak up on me, the ones I hadn't considered before,” he murmured after a heartbeat. Those changes of view stuck with him for their newness, their unexpected nature. The 'what if?' of it all. “What's on your mind?” he inquired then, noticing the distant and almost longing look in her lilac eyes. Perhaps Naelys Velaryon had already snuck into mysterious, deep waters in which she didn't wish to be followed.

closed starter for @adam-stark location: owen's birthday party

it had been early in the evening when dacey began to feel that familiar press in her chest, the weight of too much noise, too many voices, music and laughter and clinking goblets, too much to look at and listen to all at once. there were times when it was more tolerable than others, but tonight, with winterfell's feast hall dressed for celebration, it felt like it might swallow her whole. but it was owen's nameday, and for that reason alone, she did not slip away, no matter how much she wanted to.

it was obvious to any who knew her well - when her nerves got the best of her, her hands were never at rest. they were clasped neatly in front of her now, but her fingers twisted around each other, never once stilling, as she found herself drawn into conversation with yet another lord from the knot of courtiers she had found herself entangled in. he was telling a story she suspected was supposed to amuse her, and though she was nodding in the right places, smiling when it seemed called for, she hadn't heard half of it. her thoughts were elsewhere, half looking for a suitable gap in the conversation that never seemed to arrive in which she could excuse herself, and half adrift, caught in the well of the crowd and all the more overwhelmed for it.

she did not notice adam approach - not until he was already by her side, apologising to her company and offering his hand in a dance.it was more than obvious why he had done it, and she did not hesitate to let him guide her away. in fact, she almost could have wept with relief when he did. once they were out of earshot of the lord, clear of the worst of the crowd, did she exhale. she was usually no more comfortable on a dancefloor as she was in a crowd. there was no peace or stillness to be found here, but it was enough of a reprieve for now.

"sorry," she said, when she finally spoke, a sheepish look crossing her face, though the corners of her mouth turned up slightly in the shape of a smile. "you didn't have to come to my rescue, but i'm glad that you did." there was no mistaking her gratitude in that moment. "and apologies in advance if i step on your toes."

#dacey: 03 #plot: king owen stark's celebration #sorry this is so late; my dear!

Adam had seen the signs from where he had been sitting. They were subtle in his sister's body language, but he knew her well enough to read those quiet tells. He knew what to look for because he felt similarly from time to time. The Commander recognized the same involuntary detachment that began to take over when he wished to step away. Adam usually didn't linger and simply excused himself. Dacey was far more polite than him.

So he stepped in, holding out his hand and offering a believable excuse to get his sister away from the lord who'd been speaking to her. Or speaking at her, really, since the man failed to see the princess was not nearly as engaged in the conversation as he was. And so the Stark siblings began to head to the dance floor. When he felt her exhale beside him, Adam gave her hand a gentle squeeze. It was a reassuring gesture, a quiet way of saying I saw you. I'm here.

“You looked like you wanted to step away,” he replied, keeping his voice low enough so that only she could hear him. He didn't think of it as a rescue, frankly, but simply as a lone wolf stepping in for another one. The two of them had always been the quieter ones. Similar and different as they were, a special sort of understanding existed between Adam and Dacey. That sometimes, even in joyful moments, something profound called them for a moment of solitude.

Adam guided her carefully, and they positioned themselves with the other pairs as the new song began. “I hope I won't step on yours,” he added with a rare, playful smile. Adam Stark was in perfect command of his body on the battlefield, but as it turned out, that didn't fully translate to a skill like dancing. He was decent at it, steady, albeit not entirely graceful. “We hadn't shared a dance in a long time. So I’m glad I intervened, too”.

HOUSE STARK OF WINTERFELL

@owenstark, @daceystvrk, @cassvstark, @devotionturns

#rip to jon and alysanne #adam: headcanon #adam: picture #( owen stark )#( dacey stark )#( cassana stark )#( cyrene stark )

Closed starter for @naaijas Setting: Winterfell, the North. During the celebratory ball for King Owen Stark's nameday.

Adam stood at the edge of the hall, half in shadow, watching the dance unfold with a glass of wine untouched in his hand. Large gatherings had never come naturally for the Northern prince, though he had grown better at navigating them with time. This celebration belonged to Owen, and for that, he endured it gladly. Despite his more reserved nature, the lone wolf of House Stark was in good spirits tonight. He had simply stepped back for a moment, letting himself breathe, regaining a bit of his social footing before returning to the heart of things.

A gown of sea-green caught in the firelight, bright against the darker tones of the hall, drew his gaze. He turned to see Lady Naija Manderly also making her way to the periphery of the party. With a goblet in her hand, the young woman stood but mere feet away from him.

It had been some time since he'd last seen the Manderly lady. Her house had been a stalwart ally to the Starks for generations, though the events of the past years had begun to change North, pulling houses, interests and loyalties in many different directions.

“Lady Manderly,” the Commander of the Kingsguard said with a light nod, offering a polite smile. “You've also gotten tired of dancing?”. His voice was quiet but laced with wry amusement. He himself had only taken to the floor once, and only to spare Dacey from some unwanted company.

#naija: 01 #plot: king owen stark's celebration

naelys’s fingers brushed lightly against the cool stone of the balcony railing as she gazed out over the riverlands, the fading moonlight casting a silver glow across the landscape. "lucky kora." there was a slight smile on her features, dark hair in the chilly riverland wind; knowing all too well the both of them would love to be at home right now. not the most outgoing or social creatures, she looked at adam and sometimes wondered if that was what people thought of when they thought her depressing or low.

the name of his son lingered in her mind, curling around her thoughts like the soft breeze that stirred her jet black hair. she turned slightly, her lilac eyes catching adam’s as she spoke, her voice soft and thoughtful. "hadrian," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue with a quiet curiosity. "it’s a strong name... a name of kings, perhaps?" she tilted her head, a small, contemplative smile playing at her lips. "it’s strange, isn’t it? to think of you with a son now." her gaze softened, the faintest trace of a wistful expression crossing her features. "it makes us all feel so much older."

her fingers traced absent patterns on the railing as she continued, her voice carrying the lilting quality of the sea breeze. "....what does it mean, hadrian?" she glanced at adam, her eyes shimmering with genuine curiosity. "it sounds like a very heavy name." for a moment, her gaze drifted back to the horizon, the distant hills bathed in the silver glow of the ruling moon.

she turned back to him, her eyes glimmering with quiet warmth. with comfort. there was something about the starks that seemed to feel like home, even if the thought never truly crossed her mind. "tell me about him, adam. about hadrian. what is he like?" her voice was gentle, inviting, as if she wished to weave his story into her own understanding of the world. she wondered what a stark baby was like. was it just a baby? was it as fierce and loyal?

"if you would like me to." her smile lingered, delicate and sincere, as she waited for his response, the quiet evening settling around them like a comforting embrace.

“Lucky her, indeed” Adam exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. It was nowhere near as chilly as Winterfell, but it felt familiar enough for the Commander to feel at ease. He was enjoying his time in the Riverlands, he could not deny it, but there was always a part of him that began to yearn for his homeland after being away from the Northern woods for more than a couple of days. Neither he nor Nellie were the most sociable of individuals, and perhaps that was why they’d struck such an agreeable, comforting relationship. They could chat or they could stand in silence, and still at ease with each other.

The Velaryon lady spoke his son’s name and the prince smiled a little. “Elissa chose it. It was her father's name,” he said after a moment, turning to lean against the balcony’s railing with his back to the Riverlands’ scenery, his head turned to the side to look. Lord Hadrian Dustin had died in the early years of the Dance, and his late wife had loved her late father very dearly. She wanted that name for her firstborn -the only son she ended up having- and Adam had no argument against it. “I just didn’t want him to have a name that felt like carrying a burden,” he said after a moment. That was why he’d not even suggested naming his boy after his own father, his dead brother, or even naming him after himself.

The lone wolf of House Stark crossed his arms across his chest and smiled as Nellie asked more about his song. His posture was more relaxed as images of Hadrian filled his mind, how the little boy watched the world with wide, curious eyes. Always reaching, always searching. “He's aware of everything,” Adam admitted, his tone softer. “Always watching, always listening. If you put something in front of him, he has to touch it, turn it over in his hands. He has to figure out what it is”. He let out a quiet breath, almost a chuckle. “Nothing like me”. He wasn’t sure if that was true, not entirely. It was too soon to tell how much his son would be like him. But Adam told himself Hadrian didn't take after him. He wasn't burdened with any of the things Adam carried —grief, guilt, the ghosts of the past pressing at his back. His son was just a little boy. Innocent, bright. And Adam would keep it that way for as long as he could.

“I would like you to,” Adam confirmed without hesitation. It had been some time since the Velaryon lady last visited Winterfell. “So consider this an official invitation”. He even thought she might accompany his family on the way back from the Riverlands if she wished to extend her travels, if she did not mind being away from her home for a few more days.

#naelys: 01

dacey had been spending more time in the godswood of late, seeking to clear her mind, looking for guidance and insight that did not come. it was amongst the trees where she felt most comfortable these days, but there was only so much that could do for her. and yet, still she came, searching for answers for questions she had not quite figured out how to ask.

oftentimes, when she visited, she would find herself here alone. today, that was not so. the figures of her elder brother and sister loomed before her, sharing a moment of tenderness. she was glad of that - her own reunion with cyrene had been a frosty one, and that was enough to both weigh on her conscience and have her hesitating, dithering between the trees as she pondered whether to interrupt, if her presence would be welcomed in the moment they shared. she was about to turn and return to the keep, leaving them to it, when the sound of her footsteps had adam turning, and she could no longer pretend she had never been there at all.

instead of turning, dacey drew a little closer, leather-gloved hands clasping together before her, coming to a stop a few meters away from them. near, but still apart, still retaining some distance. "sorry," her voice was sheepish when she spoke, the smile on her face a tentative one. "i didn't mean to intrude on you." she'd caught none of their conversation, but before she could speak, another of their kin made their presence known, and her tension relaxed a little. "we're all of a similar mind today, i think."

@owenstark

owenstark

The King wanted to hunt and some times he wanted to go alone. On this day he traveled with his wolf. The great beast walking along side him as they made their way back. His horse carried a great stag on it's back and rabbits on the saddle. It would be a good meal, when the King wanted to eat well he would go out and get his own meat and have it roasted in butters and with vegetables and he would eat until he could not. Food and beer. It kept his mind at ease.

The sound of voices caught this attention. He dragged his fingers over his beard and took wrapped an arrow around his finger and lined it up as he walked closer. Calm washed over him as the voices were suddenly familiar and strange to him. Cyrene sounded different to his ears but he knew he all same. Adam was Adam, if his voice changed Owen would think another wore his face. And of course, Dacey, she carried a weight he always put on her shoulders. "Smoke get off her." Owen called out, putting the arrow away as Smoke ran up to Cyrene and put muddy paws on her front.

"And what do we have here?" A smiled graced his features briefly. "Starks in the Godswood. Have I stumbled upon the secret club house or has the old Gods brought us here?" Owen remember his secret cave with Alys and Jon, and it pained him to think of them so he pushed it away. "It's been too long since we've been a pack. We just need Cass." Those who were home at least. Life pulled them apart and together. Even as he tried, Owen did not feel like a brother. He felt like a King and he did not know how to turn it off.

@cassvstark

cassvstark

cassana had always trusted her instincts. it was a trait that served her well as both a fighter and a hunter, but it was especially valuable to her as a greenseer. often, she felt her instincts pull her to places she needed to be, even if she didn’t fully understand why. she never questioned it; to her, it was simply the call of the old gods. right now, that pull felt like an invisible thread, guiding her steadily toward the weirwoods. and so she followed it, letting the whisper of her intuition lead her steps.

when she emerged into the clearing, she was met with a sight that surprised her: all of her siblings, already gathered beneath the ancient, watchful eyes of the weirwoods.

"i guess i have good timing, then, brother," she called out to owen with a smile. "looks like i was the last to get the message from the old gods to come out here." her laugh was light, tinged with a warmth that had been missing for far too long. there was a brightness about her today, a flicker of the joy that used to radiate from her so naturally. since coming home from the war and all that happened, that brightness had been elusive. but seeing her siblings gathered here like this… it stirred something within her, a familiar warmth that spread through her chest and softened her smile.

her gaze fell on cyrene, "you know, i thought i had a dream about you visiting us, cyrene. i thought maybe it was just a normal dream. but i suppose i was right on that one." she mused, her voice playful. she moved to dacey’s side, resting her head gently on her sister’s shoulder for a moment, seeking the quiet comfort of her presence like she often did. "or maybe it’s just a coincidence… who knows.”

@devotionturns

devotionturns

Did something happen between you and Lord Frey? "No." Her tone was gentle, reserved for the moments Adam's own got serious and she knew any sort of teasing on her part was entirely out of place. He meant it. And she meant it, too. She snorted, then. Cyrene did not mind his no having compliments for her husband. Not in the slightest. "No," she repeated, this time more apologetic. Every time Adam had visited her children, when they had still been younger, she enjoyed seeing her brother spend time with the twins. "Wylla did. But Mako... Well, you can imagine. He insisted." The boy stayed behind at his Lord's insistence. A ruling lady should never be too far for too long from her estate. An heir should never be too far at all.

The embrace was more than welcome. Her arms wrapped tightly around Adam and her eyes fluttered closed, the tips of her fingers digging into leather and fur alike. She wondered how life had changed such an awful lot in a relatively short span of time. Growing up, Adam and Cyrene had never been close. And yet, he had been her anchor in the rocky sea that her marriage had proved to be.

She let go only when she heard footsteps approaching the godswood. When she spotted Dacey, her smell fell the slightest bit. Froze, more like. And she despised that it did. Their first meeting had not been at all the way she'd imagined it to be. That did not mean Cyrene did not still hope it could be. "You weren't," she softly said, stepping back from Adam a little.

Another one of their family decided to join, then, muddy paws and looming frame pressing into the front of her dress. Cyrene did not mind dirtying herself. Not for family. Smoke panted in excitement as she laughed, ruffling his fur. Owen was not far behind. The direwolf dropped away at its bonded's orders, but nonetheless alert as it looked between the Stark siblings that were present. "Wouldn't be a secret club if we met out in the Godswood, would it now?" she responded, teasingly. Her gaze betrayed a rare fondness, looking at Owen now. Cyrene did not think it was a secret that she adored her brother like any other of her siblings. The way they fought at times could have fooled even the best in Winterfell, though.

And then, at last, Cassana arrived as well. As though it had been destiny, for all of them. To find one another here, together. Tala, her own direwolf, had not yet made an appearance, but Cyrene was satisfied with their presence nonetheless.

"I don't think anything is a coincidence with you," Cyrene said, grinning at Cass. "Well, then. You are all here. And you seem unharmed. My soul is at peace, at last." There was a certain sense of mocking in her tone, a jab that none of them had answered her letters to Cyrene's satisfaction. At the same time, there was relief. Unbridled, unadulterated relief.

@adam-stark

#cyrene: 01 #cassana: 03 #owen: 06 #dacey: 02

Cyrene was quick to reply. Adam studied his sister's expression, everything else that could be communicated beyond just words to gauge whether or not that simple 'No' was truthful. It went without saying that if his sister was harmed by her husband in any capacity, the Northern Giantslayer would march against the Frey wretch, no questions asked. Alas, there was some relief in learning she was well and that one of her children had accompanied her to the North.

One by one, the surviving Starks found their way to the godswood on that day. Like Cyrene, he also believed Cassana's vision had manifested, and thus, they found themselves together. His own strange episodes were a clear reminder that nothing of the sort was ever a mere coincidence. All of them pulled closer together, holding hands, resting heads on shoulders, hands resting on backs. The absence of those they had lost lingered like a ghost in Adam's mind as the pack stood close.

It was a rare and peaceful moment. The red leaves of the Weirwood tree rustled in the cold breeze, and the faint scent of pine and frost hung in the air in a way that felt entirely like home to Adam. “Brings back memories, does it not?” he said then, looking at his brother and sisters. So much of their youth happened here. Praying, confiding, playing.

@daceystvrk

naelys velaryon’s fingers stilled on the loose strings of her corset, though the small, contemplative smile on her lips lingered as she processed adam stark’s words. her silver hair, catching the soft amber glow of the setting sun filtering through the chamber windows, framed her face in a way that accentuated the brightness in her lilac eyes—a brightness that sparked with a faint flicker of amusement at his reply. “cassana,” she repeated, her tone thoughtful as though tasting the name for the first time. “your sister.” her voice softened, her confusion melting into understanding.

“i suppose i should remember that now. forgive me—there are so many names to keep track of. the sea does not trouble itself with such things,” she added, her words carrying a lilting, almost wistful quality.

her gaze shifted to him, her vivid purple hues bright as they spoke. for all his gloom and for all her anxious unsettled nerves, she never found herself needing to second guess, or think too hard. as natural as the waves kissing the chore. “grown shorter? well, i hardly think so...i still have my head.” her voice lended a musical quality to her words. “perhaps it is merely the northern air giving you some sense of height. maybe i shall have to visit winterfell with deimos to see if it works on me. maybe.”

she let her fingers trail absently over the pendant now hanging around her neck, her movements deliberate yet unhurried. there was something grounding about his presence, though she would never say so aloud.she were too shy for that. instead, she tilted her head slightly, her lips quirking into a small smile, nodding. when she brightened at the mention of dacey stark, her face seemed to transform, her earlier calm replaced by an unmistakable warmth. “dacey? she’s... wonderful,” naelys said, her voice tinged with an almost unusual girlish excitement. her hands clasped together as she recounted their meeting.

“we talked for hours. about everything—your family, my family, the big wide world. she is just as generous in person as she is with her words, if not more so. you have a very nice sister, adam. much nicer than my sister.” her smile softened, the radiance in her expression dimming only slightly as a trace of introspection seeped into her tone.

she then looked behind him, as though to expect to see his companion. "oh. where is your pup?"

#naelys: 01 #event: litha festival

Adam’s gaze softened as Naelys repeated Cassana’s name, her lilac eyes shimmering with a faint light that even the fading sun couldn’t rival. “You remember what matters to you, Nellie, and that’s more than enough,” he replied with a subtle grin, his tone light yet sincere. There was no trace of reproach about her forgetting his siblings' names. For a long time, he'd been acquainted with Naelys' airy, daydreamy nature and not once did he consider it a fault.

The Northern prince smiled at her next remark, about still having her head. It was an unexpected response and Adam appreciated the conversation even more for it. Then, her remark about the Northern air drew a quiet laugh from the prince, a sound as rare as sunlight breaking through clouds. “You’d be welcome at Winterfell anytime,” he said, his voice steady but genuine. “Though I’m not sure it’s height you’d gain there. Perhaps a new appreciation for the cold, or an even stronger appreciation for hearths and hot cider”. His words were tinged with amusement, for he was too aware that only Northerners truly enjoyed their wintry land. But the invitation carried an earnestness beneath the mild tease. He would be glad to welcome the Velaryon lady in Winterfell anytime she wished to visit, and he was certain Dacey would welcome her friend gladly as well.

As she spoke of her meeting with Dacey, Adam couldn’t help but marvel at the way Naelys’s entire demeanor shifted. Her quieter, shier demeanor gave way to a kind of joy that was unguarded, luminous. “I'm most fortunate for the siblings I have. Dacey is a wonderful person. Keeps to herself, as some of us Starks tend to do. I’m glad the two of you had the chance to truly talk. It was long overdue, after all those letters”. Nellie's mention of her own sister made him tilt his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his expression, but he chose not to press. Instead, a faint smile crossed his lips when she mentioned his direwolf.

“Kore? She stayed behind in Winterfell. But I'll tell her you were asking about her,” he said in a gentle tone. Both Saga, his first direwolf, and Kore had taken a liking to Naelys. It was not hard to figure out why. Adam was certain that the large creature would be behaving like a sweet pup around the Velaryon lady if she were here, laying down by her skirts with her belly upwards to get some cuddles and scratches. “She's grown quite protective of my son, Hadrian. I feel better knowing he's well-guarded while I'm away from home”. The little prince was still too young to make trips like this one to the Riverlands, and Adam had done everything in his power to ensure his son was cared for and protected. “I'd like you to meet my boy one day. If you and your brother do make that trip to Winterfell, I'll introduce you”.

scarscandestroyus

Robert Pattinson as Neil — TENET (2020) dir. Christopher Nolan [20/∞]

#adam: picture

naelys stood still for a moment, her fingers still toying with the undone string of her corset. she could feel the weight of his words, but it didn't quite feel like the heavy, pressing thing she'd feared. there was something almost comforting in his presence, something familiar and grounding. she let her shoulders relax, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as he stepped back, his work done. her brow furrowed as he mentioned a name she did not recognise; her face was painted with confusion.

"i don't think i know a cass...?"

"yes... it is very nice," she repeated, more to herself than to him. the word felt simple, but it was enough. they didn’t need to say much for it to mean everything, not when so many of their conversations had been left unsaid between the lines. "you look taller." putting the necklace around her neck felt like a small but significant thing, a reminder of moments like this one—quiet, unexpected, and somehow more real than any of the grand gestures.

"i didn't expect to see you here," she said, her voice quiet but warm. there was a soft, teasing edge to her words. "but then again, you’ve always had a way of showing up when i least expect it." she could almost hear his dry laugh in her mind, the one that always came after his half-smiles. but there was something more there now, something that made the air between them feel lighter.

and then her face brightened slightly more, visibly. "oh! i finally met dacey!" he knew the two were close friends, but over written form only. despite her betrothal to adam once upon a time, she never managed to meet the second oldest stark princess.

Adam watched her, a small smile tugging at his lips as she fiddled with her corset strings. It was the sort of absentminded habit he had observed in her a few times before, the sort of action that made him wonder just how comfortable she might feel around him. Naelys had never appeared to be much of a social creature, perhaps leaning toward solitary sea shores as he did to wintry, lonely woods. But the prince did hope she found the same ease in his company as he did hers.

The furrow of her brow at the mention of Cass amused him. “Cassana. My sister,” he clarified with ease, tender, never mocking of her confusion. There had always been something light, airy and dreaming about the Velaryon lady in how she moved about the world and how she spoke. For the gloomy Northern prince, it was something soothing, never something to deride or make fun of.

“I don't think I've grown since we last met,” Adam murmured, considering her assertion. “Perhaps you've grown shorter, Nellie,” he offered in return, a warm chuckle accompanying his words.

“Do I?” he raised an eyebrow, glancing toward her. Her teasing about his opportune presence pulled yet another genuine smile from the lone wolf of House Stark. “If that is indeed a talent I possess that I was unaware of, I cannot say I can complain about it”. Naelys said he appeared when she least expected it, and Adam could only hope his appearance was a surprise of the positive kind.

Adam's usual solemnity had vanished entirely around the Lady of Driftmark, for when she brightened about meeting his sister, the prince's smile widened ever so slightly. “You two had been exchanging letters for some years now, correct? I'm glad to hear you have finally met in person”. Naelys' eyes sparkled as she spoke of Dacey and he could only hope the meeting had brought similar joy to his sister.

“How was it? Meeting each other at last?” he inquired, inviting her to share more about an experience that so evidently brought her some excitement. He was pleased to know two people so dear to him had found some happiness in crossing paths at last.

#naelys: 01

( tw: mention of drug use )

Adam looked at his younger sister in silence. She spoke of quitting the substance and ensuring he didn't take it again as if it was something that had not crossed his mind already. Thinking about stopping and actually being able to do it were different matters. The Stark prince had prided himself on being a determined man before, but sheer determination wasn't enough when something inside urged him to take another dose.

“Owen knows,” he admitted plainly. Owen sanctioned it, he thought but didn't say it. Their brother only agreed to have Adam and his men take the substance for the war once the prince had already tried it for himself. And so he did not want to have Cass' pent-up anger be aimed toward their eldest brother for a misleading reason. “I can barely last two days without feeling like my mind is shattering,” the Commander replied. There were things he was saying and things he kept to himself, for it was much too complex to detail every little symptom the withdrawal could bring. But this element in particular —the effect on the mind— was something he wished to bring out with Cassana because of her own experiences with her visions. “I've seen things, Cass. Well, not seen, not really. It's like my eyes are blindfolded and scenarios are built in my mind through sounds, sensations that I feel on my skin as I were touching things that I know are not really around,” the prince went on, trying to make sense of the overwhelming abstractions he sensed during those events.“I've had a few of those strange episodes since I began to try to quit the substance”.

And then she asked it, if it had been worth it. “It made all the difference,” he stated without an ounce of hesitation. The cost to pay had been high, but it would have been higher still to have lost gods knew how many more lives had Adam and his men not been able to cut through the Umber forces like they did. They planted inexplicable fear in the hearts of their opponents, they razed through the field of battle like unearthly creatures that needed no rest, protected true Northern men, women and children, and survived.

“But all of that is over. My son needs me to stop,” the lone wolf of House Stark admitted, managing more conviction in his voice than he had in all of their conversation. Hadrian had lost his mother already. He could not lose his father to a slow decay. “And I need your help, Cass. I need to learn what to do with these—,” he touched his temple, unable to find other words to describe the episodes he experienced. “Like you've learned how to handle better what you see”.

And just like that, an older brother let down his guard, his excuses, his fears, to ask his little sister for help in saving himself.

cassvstark

cassana’s fingers tightened around the bag as adam’s words sank in. she felt the weight of them, heavy as the winters they both carried in their blood. she hadn’t expected him to be so honest, so unguarded, and it unsettled her in ways she couldn’t articulate. cass couldnt remember when adam was likethis—he was the stoic one, the soldier who always seemed to have a plan. hearing him like this, seeing the cracks, made her chest tighten with a mix of frustration and fierce protectiveness. maybe she had today more. she couldnt. not when he needed her.she could push it down.

"you’ve seen things," she repeated, her voice quieter now, though no less intense. “adam, that… that’s not something to play with. i’ve lived with it my whole life, and i wouldn’t wish it on anyone, least of all you.” she looked at him, her newly green eyes meeting his, her expression softening just enough to show her worry. “you have to write it all down. every sound, every feeling, no matter how strange it seems. it won’t make it go away, but it’ll help you make sense of it. and maybe… maybe it’ll help me figure out what the hell we’re dealing with.”

her hand brushed over the bag again before she set it firmly on the table between them. “but i’ll tell you this, adam. i pray to the old gods every day that your visions stop. that you never have to carry them the way i do. yes it’s a blessing from the old gods but it can feel the opposite of it. and i’ll do everything i can to make sure it doesn’t become one for you.”

cass leaned forward, her tone sharpening with determination. “you said you need my help, and you’ve got it. i’m going to get you off this stuff, adam. i don’t care how hard it is or how much you fight me on it. you’re my brother. you’re my pack. and i won’t lose you—not to this.”

#cassana: 02 #( end of thread )

END.

it felt as though there was a weight that began to lift from her shoulders as she listened closely to his tone of voice, biting lightly on her lower lip in thought as she surveyed his facial expressions; he appeared to be speaking with her jokingly, and there was a slight smile on his face - which meant he probably was not doing anything too important. she began to indicate she would come down to pick up her own sapphire necklace, though within a swoop he had already bent down to pick it up as he called up to her.

"i was trying to get your attention…i knew not if you were with somebody, and i just blurted your name." she responded, half sheepish and apologetic as she spoke; and half dreamlike as she always uttered her words.

"i am glad it did not fall upon your head." and then suddenly he were climbing up the spiral staircases to the balcony she were stood at, and she began to make her way to the entrance of the terrace to meet him halfway, he held it by it's chain and indicated that he would slip it back on. nodding slightly, she spun on her heel and moved aside jet black dark hair for him to be able to drape it around her neck from the back.

"you know, even though it is small, it could have truly done some damage to your head. the speed of which it fell, and you are not wearing your helmet for there are no giants around." it was wrong to assume that naelys was shatteringly shy; but rather, she seemed to ramble when she did speak.

she remained as still as naelys velaryon could remain as he fiddled slightly with the chain, it seemed warriors were not the most skilled at the art of jewellery upon women. she toyed with a string that had come slightly undone from her deep violet and silver corset, a string between her thumb and her forefinger that she twisted, pulled and tugged at. she felt it finally clasp together, and let out a small sigh, a small smile crossing her features.

"hello." she spoke, looking at him for the first time in a long while. since the northern war, at least. she greeted him to start their conversation properly, rather than throwing a necklace down at him to get his attention. "i thought i would see you here." she implicitly spoke of adam's affinity for the land of rivers, and the significance it placed for him. he had left somebody very important behind here, some years ago.

#naelys: 01 #i'm here for the wholesomeness

“Consider your attempt successful,” he replied with a nod, still somewhat amused by her very unusual yet very effective method. Adam had expected to gain some time alone earlier, though admittedly he didn't feel robbed in any way as he fortuitously ended up in the company of Naelys. Hers was a company he liked to keep, even if the occasions when that could happen were sporadic and far between. For the good bonds between Starks and Velaryons, it was a shame Winterfell and Driftmark were no closer together on the map.

“I like to think it would take more than a mere jeweled necklace to wound me. Cass would agree my head is thicker than that,” the prince uttered with a half-smile. He could nearly hear his sister's words mocking or chastising him. Out of the pack, his little sister had always been the one more willing to speak to him so openly, even to the detriment of his reason or pride.

The Velaryon lady stood in place and Adam Stark let the precious gem rest on her collarbone as he clasped the necklace's brooch, her precious jewelry back where it belonged. “There,” he murmured and took a step back, offering Nellie a smile. “Hello,” he echoed her words, a light-hearted tone present as they finally greeted.

“I am honored when I receive invitations to come,” he replied. It went beyond the expectations of a prince, or the commonalities that could exist between River folk and Northerners. There was something deeper about his connection to this land, as Naely's well knew. Returning to the land of Rivers oftentimes felt like paying respects to the dead, and a part of his soul resonated with that. “It is nice to see you and your family here”.

feraylocke

it had taken some time for feray to go to winterfell after the war. she was not sure where this apprehension had come from. she had felt it towards the starks, towards winterfell. maybe it was because house locke had always felt more removed from house stark due to their allegiance to house manderly and white harbor. but she had friends in winterfell, among the starks. after the journey from the westerlands, she had taken a larger dose of milk of the poppy to make up for the disrupted sleep. and hours later, she still felt rather loopy, as if she was caught in a space between sleep and being awake. but she had duties now that she could not shirk, so feray still got dressed for the day, prayed and went out to be among the nobles gathered.

after attending the feast, she had found a quiet spot in front of the fire, her eyes feeling heavy, when she heard the voice of one of the stark princes. “of course not, your highness.” feray's gaze dropped to the babe in his arms, and a slight smile crept its way to her lips. she had always been fond of children. it was why she had never doubted that she'd have her own one day, despite the warning of her old maester about the danger of it. “the little prince is beautiful. you must be very proud of him.” her dark eyes went to adam. this was yet another person who had known loss. “may the gods keep him safe.” after losing her brothers, feray's biggest fear was that death would come for others she loved. her parents, her friends. she still prayed each day for them to be protected, as if she spoke it out loud, it was enough to guard them.

A smile found its way to Adam's lips as well. His son was his pride in every way. He was a ray of hope, too, the tether that pulled him from the darkness. Had it not been for Hadrian, the prince wasn't sure he would have found the necessary drive to become worthy of him, to be the father the little boy deserved and not the shade he'd become during the war. Hadrian took after his mother in many ways, but he did have Adam's eyes. Sad eyes, some said when seeing Adam's gaze. He hoped his boy wouldn't take after him in that way.

“I am,” the lone wolf of House Stark finally said, a peaceful hum accompanying his words. “I am proud of him every day, and I hope I make him proud when he's old enough to start thinking about matters of family and the like”. The Northern prince glanced toward the Locke lady, grateful for her good wishes for his little son. He nodded in appreciation, paying a bit more attention to the young woman at his side.

“Are you feeling unwell, my lady?” he asked after a beat, his tone low enough, discreet, to ensure the exchange did not reach other ears and remained theirs alone. “Forgive me, I do not mean to pry. But if you require some rest, or a maester to tend to you, I could help arrange it”. It wasn't outright noticeable, he thought, but the lady did appear somewhat pale and had a subtle dazed look in her eye.

#feray: 01

who: @adam-stark when and where: flashback, in the riverlands post the release of the sun wheels in the riverlands context: these two were once betrothed considering they are the second son and second daughter of house stark and house velaryon respectively. it ended up breaking off, though they remain on good terms.

a figure with jet black mid length hair seemed to blend easily in the surroundings of the night upon the balcony; as she seemed easily able to blend in any surroundings, something she no doubt much appreciated about herself. the endless navy stretch across her head blurred with the colour of her silks and her jewels, gliding onto a balcony following the release of the sunwheels.

or ginny's sunwheel, as she had ruined her own; there was a slight line above her forehead and her lips turned downward naturally at her thoughts.

something about ginny seemed to have changed, like the phases of the moon; and she did not like thinking such things about her friends. but something, felt different; the talk of wanting more, of power - it did more than simply worry her, it unsettled her. she had seen what happened to those who allowed ambition to become their hamartia.

it was only when she heard the footsteps directly below her from where she stood on the balcony did she shift her amethyst gaze downward, half contemplating on what the gods had bestowed to be her own hamartia, half wondering who that would be. and then the candlelight fell across half of the man's face, and she leaned forward slightly upon the balcony, her arms resting upon it.

"adam?" she called, suddenly incredibly self aware and so her voice came somewhat halfheartedly - she had not even thought if he were with someone, or if he had somewhere else to be. she waved the sleeve of her lace slightly, as though to try and get his attention in the night. what good was waving navy silk in the dark of the night? and so, as though it were the best thing to do, she unclasped a sapphire necklace from around her neck and dropped it directly beside him - narrowly missing his head.

when he looked up, she caught his gaze and raised her palm, offering a small wave from her spot atop the balcony. "is deimos still in there with your brother?" she pointed back toward the bustling feasting hall. she found owen stark incredibly loud, and whilst he were nice enough, his casual volume and roaring laugh admittedly overwhelmed her and burned all the embers she had left for socialising.