[belcvd]

BELCVD : a dependent and private multi muse for cognatihq penned by luna ( thirty1 / est / she + they ). mature themes will be present, please use discretion. don't interact unless affiliated with the rp.

𝑙𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑙 ‚ 𝑐. ⸺ lord connington. intro. wanted dynamics. 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑎 ‚ 𝑡. ⸺ ruling lady tully. intro. wanted dynamics. 𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑎 ‚ 𝑐. ⸺ lady corbray. intro. wanted dynamics.

[slaining]

it  catches  beron  off  guard  for  a  moment,  so  much  so  that  his  eyes  lift  from  where  they  are  focused  on  his  hands  to  meet  the  dark  brown  of  the  lady  before  him.  normally  people  did  not  have  an  interest  in  what  he  did,  they  would  look  for  a  moment  and  then  move  on.  they  had  no  need  for  the  little  figurines  he  could  craft  with  his  eyes  closed,  no  need  for  decoration  that  was  made  by  someone  who  was  not  important  enough  to  remember  most  of  the  time.  sure,  his  stature  left  people  looking,  but  it  was  rare  that  he  was  remembered  for  anything  else.  though  it  is  not  that  he  wishes  to  be  remembered,  no  at  all.  beron  would  prefer  to  fade  into  obscurity  than  have  the  realm  keep  his  name  in  their  history  books,  but  there  is  a  sort  of  gentle  thrill  that  runs  through  him  at  the  thought  of  his  carvings  sittings  on  tabletops  and  mantles  throughout  the  kingdoms. "do  you  like  bears  then,  m'lady?"  beron  continues  his  work  while  attempting  to  keep  eye  contact  with  the  woman  before  him,  carving  lines  of  texture  to  mimic  the  fur  that  the  creatures  of  his  home  possessed.  "they  are  plenty  where  i  am  from  —  my  favorite."  it  feels  like  too  much  information  to  share  with  someone  he  does  not  know  and  he  can  feel  the  embarrassment  of  doing  so  creep  up  on  him.  "i  would  accept  just  a  handful  of  coppers,  but  i  would  not  feel  right  even  taking  that  when  i  have  yet  to  finish."  a  sheepish  look  sets  on  his  features,  "is  there  anything  else  you  like?  or  maybe—"  beron  pauses,  wondering  why  he  is  even  thinking  of  offering  the  suggestion  in  the  first  place,  but  like  most  things  that  beron  does,  the  words  tumble  out  clumsily  anyways.  "i  could  teach  you  to  do  it  yourself?  in  a  safe  way  that  will  not  become  a  mess."

[belcvd]

“  i  think  so,  yes  !  i  have  never  seen  one,  but  i  have  always  wished  to.  i  mostly  see  wolves  and  foxes.  could  you  make  a  fox,  too  ?  ”  tone  brightens  considerably  at  the  thought  of  a  pair,  gaze drifting  from  his  hands  to  the  figurines.  “  are  you  a  mormont  ?  are  you  as  big  as  a  bear  ?  ”  it  slips  out  before  she  can  catch  it,  realizing  a  second  too  late  it  may  have  been  interpreted  as  an  insult.  “  not  …  not  that  you  a  hairy  or  anything,  but  because  you  are  so  large  !  i  mean  …  not  in  a  bad  way,  of  course  you  are  not  the  size  of  a  bear  …  ”  though  the  thought  trails  off,  panicked  rambles  slowing  as  the  thought  takes  hold.  “  no,  you  must  be.  at  least  a  small  one  …  the  size  of  a  baby  bear.  ser bear ... that's  cute.  ”  elicits  a  little  giggle  as  she  reached  for  one  of  the  trinkets  to  turn  over  between  her  fingers.

“  no,  no.  a  few  coppers  would  not  do.  what  can  i  get  for  a  stag  ?  ”  sansa  asked,  prepared  to  carry  her  haul  back  to  the  allotted  quarters  cradled  in  her  arms.  “  i  can  just  come  back  for  the  bear  so  that  you  will  not  feel  rushed.  ”  declared  as  his  offer  hits  the  air,  eyes  going  wide  in  surprised  excitement.  “  really  ?  you  would  do  that  ?  “  her  grin  stretches  her  cheeks,  crinkling  her  eyes  as  she  nods  quickl  as  if  he  will  rescind  the  offer  if  she  takes  too  long.  ”  yes,  please  !  a  stag  should  cover  that  too,  right  ?  "  

[losrulirion]

laughter bubbled up for the florent lord too, not expecting a lady to tumble out from a tree. the hubbub of the market drew them in, a wish to peruse and lose one's self in the offerings of the north, refusing to allow other opinions to persuade them. let not there be politics for once! they wish to forget about them, the machinations behind the curtain, their house's lingering rumours and reputation. ❝ never mind, never mind. ❞ waving off any of her apology, pointing instead at the stick protruding from coils. ❝ i'm more worried about your current state, my lady, i think you've taken half the oak with you. ❞ smear of lithe hand, as if trying to wipe the laugh off and failing. ❝ did you find what you were looking for? ❞

[belcvd]

she  reached  up  to  where  he  had  gestured,  patting  about  soft  curls  to  pull  the  stick,  brush  leaves  to  her  shoulders  then  off  her  person  entirely.  “  then  it  was  not  a  very  strong  oak  to  begin  with,  “  answers  with  another  laugh,  head  craning  to  look  back  up  to  the  branch  she  had  rested  on.  "  though  seated  up  there  i  had  no  way  of  telling.  i  did,  yes.  i  wished  to  see  the  statue  in  its  entirety  …  i  have  decided  it  does  not  look  much  like  him.  “  shoulders  lift  in  a  light  shrug.  a  man  she  had  seen  in  person  perhaps  twice,  but  looking  different  in  her  mind's  eye.  ”  i  also  saw  a  stall  with  cider  !  do  you  want  one  ?  "      

[drgnsfyre]

aeron  hated  the  cold,  he  knew  he  was  not  built  for  this  kind  of  weather...  even  though  he  was  dressed  properly  and  he  had  been  to  the  north  many  times,  he  still  had  a  chill  that  he  couldn't  shake.  perhaps  it  was  due  to  the  reason  they  were  all  called  to  the  north,  aeron  wasn't  even  sure  how  much  the  islands  could  contribute,  let  alone  if  anyone  truly  wanted  them  here.  he  brushed  off  the  thought  as  he  made  his  way  through  the  market. he  thought  perhaps  buying  some  new  furs  would  make  him  feel  better,  as  it  usually  did  when  he  was  in  the  north.  he  turned  around  for  just  a  moment  when  the  other  bumped  into  him.  the  greyjoy's  mouth  turned  up  into  a  smile.  first  impressions  usually  worked  out  in  his  favour,  most  of  the  time. aeron  shook  his  head.  "not  a  problem  at  all,  i  am  fine."  he  told  her.  "i  was  merely  paying  too  much  attention  to  spending  my  money  on  something  i  do  not  need,  it's  alright."  he  continued.  "i  am  aeron  greyjoy.  you  must  be  lady  sansa,  correct?"  he  asked. he  wanted  to  make  sure  he  was  aware  of  everyone  attending  the  events  in  the  north,  he  studied  them  on  the  way  here.  although  he  had  not  met  everyone  he  would  be  conversing  with,  he  wanted  to  ensure  he  at  least  knew  their  names.

[belcvd]

the  smile  froze  upon  her  lips,  a  slight  narrowing  of  both  brows  and  eyes  followed.  the  attempt  to  place  him  as  someone  known  to  her,  having  to  resist  circling  him  as  if  the  stretch  of  his  shoulders  or  a  different  view  would  jostle  something  from  memory.  “  i  am  …  ”  somewhat  slow  to  answer,  her  quick  list  of  ironborn  she  was  aware  of  not  offering  aeron.  “  have  we  met  before,  my  lord  ?  i  apologize  if  we  have  i  do  not  remember.  it  must  have  been  in  a  tavern  or  some  such.  ”  a  more  delicate  way  to  assume  that  she  had  been  intoxicated  with  spiced  wine  settled  in  the  pit  of  her  stomach.  “  oh  !  perhaps  it  was  in  gulltown  ?  yes,  that  must  be  it.  i  knew  i  would  remember  —  it  is  lovely  to  see  you  again.  ”   

[parthenopaed]

the woman is a fair one, she notices, with the poised way in which she treats the salesman – for all of her nonchalance, it makes cerelle stand more firmly, more comfortable. "you are to give it to another?" she couldn't imagine such generosity; it is certainly not a trait she knows from most nobles. "there are better wares just a few stands back, if you want to rethink your purchase. some of the rivermen have brought their river's gold." the price was more expensive, but the quality wasn't as bad – at least as far as there would be around, since she can't see any westerman around. "and a topaz would look fine in contrast with your eyes, my lady."

[belcvd]

a  light  hum  of  agreement  in  response,  taking  the,  now  packaged,  necklace  between  her  two  palms.  “  yes.  to  one  of  my  siblings,  perhaps,  or  one  of  the  handmaidens.  there  is  still  a  use  for  the  gold  that  is  not.  ”  minisa  means  it  as  a  joke,  the  smile  flashed  towards  cerelle  soft.  “  i  have  no  need  of  rethinking  my  purchase,  my  lady.  i  am  not  in  search  of  something  better,  as  you  phrase  it.  the  north  has  suffered.  ”  so  many  had,  portions  of  her  own  riverlands  only  just  beginning  their  recovery  —  but  what  she  could  aid  to  others,  she  would.  “  i  am  in  possession  of  topaz  already,  but  have  chosen  not  to  wear  it  for  such  somber  occasion.  is  it  that  you  are  surprised  someone  would  desire  for  something  cheap,  or  that  you  do  not  believe  he  should  receive  coin  for  his  effort  ?  ”  

[belcvd]

she  had  not  inhaled  the  northern  air  for  so  long  that  she  had  almost  forgotten  how  much  she  enjoyed  the  sting  of  it  in  her  lungs.  her  steps  wandered  from  the  stalls  of  the  market  to  the  fields,  taking  lungful  of  the  clean  air  as  if  she  would  never  again,  pausing  when  she  meets  another's  gaze.  “  will  you  be  joining  ?  ”  a  glance  towards  the  large  rope  in  the  middle  of  the  grass  back  to  the  other.  “  i  thought  about  it,  but  fear  i  lack  any  of  the  strength  to  do  much  aside  be  a  hinderance  to  a  victory.  ”  while  minisa  enjoyed  games  of  all  sorts,  she  also  did  not  want  to  be  one  of  the  ones  that  would  be  the  first  to  tumble,  and,  likely  wind  up  in  the  mud.  

[  location:  the  northern  games,  open  to: @cursebounds ]

[belcvd]

“  who  do  you  believe  will  win  ?  ”  she  had  not  caught  the  rules  of  the  game,  just  assumed  that  the  intention  was  for  whomever  threw  the  furthest  to  win  —  yet  sitting  in  the  stands  made  it  all  look  more  complicated  than  she  had  thought.  “  if  i  was  to  bet,  i  would  have  placed  coin  on  ser  wylde  due  to  his  stature,  but  it  did  not  go  far.  ”  if  it  was  not  girth  and  strength  alone  that  allowed  a  clean  sweep,  what  did  ?  “  will  you  be  joining  any  of  the  games  ?  i  did  not  see  any  that  appealed  to  me.  ”  was  not  in  the  custom  of  making  a  fool  of  herself  with  that  many  eyes  that  watched. 

[  location:  the  northern  games,  open  to: @ruinedsong ]

[belcvd]

one  hand  interlocked  with  that  of  her  handmaiden,  the  sheer  amount  of  bodies  allowing  for  the  threat  of  separation.  idle  chatter  and  called  attention  towards  wares  kept  the  air  humming  with  activity,  though  the  ruling  tully's  mind  focused  on  everything  but.  what  the  unrest  could  mean  for  the  realm,  if  tempers  would  flare  with  it  all  —  if  the  royal  family  understood  how  precarious  it  was.  “  my  apologies  !  ”  elbow  bumped  into  another,  reach  to  steady  them  immediate.  “  i  was  not  paying  attention  to  where  i  was  going.  silly,  when  there  are  this  many  around.  are  you  harmed  ?  ”

[  location:  the  wintertown  market,  open  to: @rihtuals ]

[beautifulsnares]

starter : open to all

during : the time of northern  games - hammer  throw

this was one of the places he had yet to visit fully. he had seen the shores of the North but stepping foot on it was a different story. the ironborn were hated mostly everywhere. so it came no surprise when he walked amongst the crowd, pretending to play the little noble lord, the looks that came his way. some stared at times because of his height but others was because of the house sigil pin he wore on chest. the one that shone brightly of a silver kraken, a preference of his over the traditional gold, on black field. still he could not hide his smirk as some stared with disgust and others who think they could tame the ironborn.

as he approached a post to lean on, he watched someone throw the hammer and could not help but say some commentary on it to the person who stood near him who did not ask for this. " is it a little sad i can feel pity for the liege? all the muscle on him and yet he cannot throw the hammer any farther than a young child would throw their toy when they are having a tantrum. shameful really." dominic said sarcastically.

[belcvd]

sansa  reclined,  content  with  watching  now,  one  hand  up  to  shield  her  eyes.  “  perhaps  he  does  it  more  for  fun  than  for  sport.  ”  she  had  not  signed  up  for  any  of  the  games  that  required  strength  alone  (  tug  o'war  a  group,  after  all  )  but  had  taken  enjoyment  in  watching  others  compete.  the  few  practice  throws  she  had  taken  gone  barely  further  than  the  tips  of  her  shoes,  yet  happy  all  the  same  as  if  she  would  be  declared  the  winner.  “  or  he  has  won  the  game  before  and  wishes  to  give  another  the  chance  to  come  out  victorious.  either  way,  he  looks  to  be  having  a  nice  time.  will  you  attempt  to  best  him  ?  ” 

[rihtuals]

she had been persuaded into joining the shinty by a few old friends from the dornish war who had been glad enough, in their drunken state, to explain the rules of the game to her when they had gathered together the evening prior to cajole her into putting her name down on the list. naturally, none of them were present this morning, nursing off their headaches while catelyn shivered in the morning air, blinking as a rather large man ended up in her straight path to the game fields. scratching behind her ear, she tilted her head and peered at him with a small smile. ❝ is there ? ❞ she glanced to the right, finding only stands and seats, slowly filling with bodies, as well as a rather large muddy puddle, before she turned back to him with an amused knit to her brow. ❝ i would disagree but then again, you are also in my way, ser. does the line start from here ? surely not ... we'd be hitting balls around the field for days. ❞

[belcvd]

he  did  not  think  what  he  had  said  required  challenge,  unsure  of  what  he  had  voiced  was  not  true.  a  higher  vantage,  seats  offered  to  those  that  wished  for  them  rather  than  to  stand  far  enough  away  to  see  little,  and  be  unengaged.  “  how  can  one  be  in  the  way  in  a  field  ?  ”  ample  amounts  of  space  both  next  to,  in  front  of,  around  him.  the  proposed  idea  of  it  comical  enough  to  comment  upon.  “  i  am  unsure.  i  do  not  have  the  desire  to  join  and  did  not  listen  when  they  were  explaining.  ”  he  glanced  around  briefly,  pointing  towards  where  bodies  had  gathered  in  a  clump.  “  most  likely  over  there.  ”  where  they  had  either  chosen  their  teams  or  were  in  the  process  of  doing  so.  

[oflcgends]

she  supposes  that  she  had  never  really  considered  northern  customs  in  all  this.  all  she  sees  is  her  brother  trying,  and  can't  help  but  to  think,  why  isn't  that  enough?  she  knows  he  hasn't  been  the  best  to  these  people,  but  gods  dammit,  isn't  he  trying  to  make  up  for  it  now?

“yes,  well…”  it  isn't  often  that  the  princess  finds  herself  at  a  loss  for  words,  but  she  does  now.  “dorne  can  be  rather..  stifling.”  and  it  is  not  as  if  she  has  any  choice  in  it  really.  her  marriage  to  akshay  had  been  a  strategic  move,  after  all,  and  no  love  had  thus  been  born  between  the  two  of  them.  two  children,  yes,  but  no  love.

“lyonel,  then.  what  brings  you  out  here,  anyway?  it  seems  most  have  resigned  themselves  to  the  further  festivities.”

[belcvd]

he  allows  his  gaze  to  track  over  the  princess's  features  then  back  to  the  glittering  statue,  tracing  over  the  clean  lines.  an  objective  thing  of  beauty,  yet  the  voice  of  his  father  rung  clear  in  his  head.  all  that  looked  pleasing  to  the  eye  not  what  it  seemed  —  what  glittered  not  gold. “  i  would  assume.  ”  had  often  felt  as  though  if  the  war  itself  would  not  be  his  death,  it  would  be  the  heated  sands  with  their  choking  nature.  each  time  a  retreat  allowed  for  them  to  return  to  the  stormlands  he  took  to  it  with  a  vengeance  …  and  now  they  were  here.  “  i  have  little  interest  in  games.  i  wanted  to  see  the  statue  without  many  bodies  around  to  allow  me  a  better  look  and  pay  my  respects  to  a  man  whose  legacy  preceded  him.  ”  someone  that  he  could  look  to,  difference  of  regions  be  ignored,  especially  when  he  had  gone  into  combat  with  his  ilk.  “  am  i  interrupting  you  ?  ”   

[rihtuals]

the quick thinking of her guard saw coryanne safely out of the path of falling maidens, though she shrugged off the firm hand that had wrapped around her upper arm to pull her to one side, brow furrowing as she glanced up at the branch that the young woman must have slid off from, wondering if there would be another to follow. satisfied that there was none and that the woman meant no harm, coryanne waved off her guard, bristling like a dog on high alert for an attack ─ she was still dornish, for the gods' sake. she could handle an assassin, especially in the north, where fur and armor alone would give them away. ( no subtlety at all, these northerners. ) ❝ you almost did. you ought to thank my guard, else you might be in trouble for assaulting a member of the royal family. ❞ coryanne would not have allowed it to get that far, if she had been entangled with the other woman, but her leniency depended on how bored she was as well. ❝ why were you in the tree ? what is up there that is not available down here ? ❞

[belcvd]

hands  slid  to  brush  off  her  furs,  straightening  into  more  resembling  the  lady  mother  raised  her  to  be,  rather  than  wild  child  her  father  encouraged.  “  i  should  hope  not.  it  would  be  a  horrible  first  impression  upon  family,  ”  answers  with  another  light  chuckle.  may  not  have  made  a  good  one  on  herself,  still  reconciling  the  depth  of  what  family  was  to  mean  with  their  lack  —  head  tilting  with  curiosity  now  that  the  woman's  words  impressed  upon  her.  the  queen,  she  assumed  now.  devoid  of  features  that  made  her  blood  kin,  yet  the  next  closest  source.  rumors  of  the  queen  and  her  brood  had  reached  the  corners  of  the  vale  to  sansa's  ears,  none  of  them  seeming  to  fit  the  woman  before  her.

“  people  are  tall.  ”  simple,  a  gesture  towards  the  guard  a  punctuation  to  her  point.  “  i  could  not  see  as  well  as  i  wished  to,  even  when  they  moved.  i  found  a  solution.  i  have  seen  the  statue  in  its  entirety,  and  have  found  a  stall  with  fabrics  that  have  more  vibrant  colors.  "  counterpoint  to  the  mud  and  gray  of  the  skies,  her  foot  path  intended  for  it.           

[cursebounds]

"you  speak  as  if  i  would  want  to  have  a  better  view  of  it  all."  a  deep  breath  through  his  nose,  a  slow  exhale  that  carried  grief's  weight.  any  other  time,  he  would  be  among  the  players,  competitive  spirit  striking  opponents.  instead,  karlon  stood  still,  gaze  upon  the  game,  but  barely  registering  any  movement.

"i'd  rather  you  have  come  to  the  north  for  a  different  reason."  finally,  karlon  looked  to  a  fellow  comrade  of  a  war  conducted  a  decade  ago.  youth  long  since  shed  for  both  of  them,  something  grittier  ---  something  bitter  ---  taking  place.  "then  again,  i  suppose  our  best  language  is  death."

[belcvd]

an  uncustomary  chuckle  fell  from  his  lips.  carrying  a  hint  of  bitterness  but  there  all  the  same,  a  hint  of  a  smile  flashed  in  the  wolf  lord's  direction.  “  i  do  not  want  to  assume.  ”  not  with  any  of  the  northerners,  least  of  all  the  starks  in  their  waves  of  grief.  to  have  lost  a  force  of  a  man  was  something  for  a  realm  to  endure,  that  much  true  —  worse  for  legend  to  be  a  father.  he  had  not  spoken  to  the  starks  despite  their  shared  association  because  he  was  not  a  man  of  words.  he  had  none  of  the  comforting  words  that  someone  else  could  offer,  paying  his  respects  in  silence  and  expected  to  offer  something  written  when  they  departed.  happening  upon  karlon  by  chance  reminded  him  how  ill  equipped  he  was  for  a  moment  such  as  this.

“  i  had  expected  to  come  north  on  a  job,  ”  he  confessed  quietly.  the  smattering,  reckless  thoughts  of  a  man  annoyed  with  his  circumstances  and  the  desire  to  disappear  from  it  all.  “  i  sorry  for  your  loss,  friend.  i  know  it  does  little  to  help  especially  with  these  …  ”  insult  was  scathing  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  swallowed  for  something  less,  “  visitors  here  to  make  a  spectacle  of  it.  ”   

[oflcgends]

the  princess  supposes  that  she  should  not  be  shocked  by  such  a  response  –  northerners  are  nothing  if  not  blunt.  though  when  she  turns  to  look  at  whom  she  is  speaking  to,  she  is  shocked  to  find  that  this  man  is,  in  fact,  not  a  northerner  at  all.  it  is  lord  lyonel  connington,  at  one  time  meant  to  guard  her  family  in  the  form  of  a  kingsguard.

daenys  is  left  speechless  for  a  moment  as  she  simply  watches  him.

“i..  well..  i  suppose  you  are  right  in  that  aspect,  my  lord.  i  was  merely  admiring  the  craftsmanship  of  it  all.”  she  sighs  and  looks  down  at  her  feet  for  a  moment  before  looking  back  over  at  him.  “it  has  been  some  time,  ser  lyonel.”

[belcvd]

it  is  not  in  his  nature  to  offer  pointed  opposition.  unable  to  keep  up  with  the  word  games  of  the  realm,  sure,  and  unwilling  to.  lyonel  did  not  often  speak  without  spoken  to,  would  never  offer  an  opinion  had  he  not  been  asked.  while  the  princess  may  have  been  aware  as  to  his  person  upon  asking  the  question,  he  had  been  well  informed  of  her  and  the  lack  of  what  he  would  offer  the  dragon  king  and  all  his  kin.  “  the  taxes  that  we  paid  went  well  towards  something  that  is  a  direct  contrast  to  the  northern  customs,  yes.  ”  he  did  not  think  it  was  unintentional,  another  ornament  in  the  north  for  the  crown  to  leave  in  its  wake.  something  purported  to  be  in  good  faith  when  they  all  could  see  its  true  purpose.

“  aye,  much  time  has  past.  to  be  expected,  as  i  no  longer  have  business  in  dorne  and  find  little  desire  to  return.  i  suppose  one  can  only  enjoy  blood  drenched  sands  for  so  long.  ”  a  turn  of  his  head  to  capture  the  princess  in  his  gaze,  voice  void  of  emotion,  expression  neutral.  as  if  they  were  in  discussion  of  the  weather  rather  than  double  marriage  to  the  very  same  that  spilled  their  blood  and  vice  versa  in  battle.  “  i  am  not  a  knight,  and  am  undeserving  of  the  title.  ”  those  that  would  hold  to  their  values  regardless  of  what  the  royal  family  would  do, who could temper their emotion and hold fast even when faced with questions that contrasted their morals.  “  lyonel is  fine. should you wish to give me name.  ”  he  did  not  think  any  of  the  dragon's  kin  would  keep  the  desire  to  for  long.

[belcvd]

reverence  towards  a  man  deserved  entreated  the  connington  in  joining  the  processional,  yet  the  same  could  not  be  said  of  the  games.  he  saw  nothing  to  be  of  celebration,  the  mingling  and  comraderies  something  he  believed  to  be  shared  between  those  of  the  north  and  those  chosen  by  the  starks  themselves.  their  presences  in  the  north  another  cost  for  them  to  bear,  the  ostentatious  display  of  wealth  the  king  offered  too  grandiose  for  him  to  have  felt  comfortable  lingering  close  by.  “  there  is  a  better  view  to  the  right  to  you.  ”  view  and  company  that  would,  likely,  engage  should  there  be  conversation  offered,  whereas,  lyonel  barely  offered  a  turn  of  his  attention  from  the  people  lining  for  the  game.  

location:  the  shinty  games,  day  two  of  the  northern  games

open  to:  one response

[belcvd]

“  oh  shit  …  sorry  !  ”  the  chuckles  started  not  a  second  after,  hands  out  to  brace  herself  against  the  invisible  pull  of  gravity.  “  truly,  i  do  apologize.  i  had  not  realized  the  distance  down  was  as  far  as  it  was.  ”  the  scamper  up  into  a  nearby  tree  impulsive,  the  desire  to  see  both  statue  and  winter  market  from  a  vantage  not  allowed  by  someone  of  her  stature.  close  to  a  couple  of  hours  now  sat  tucked  away  upon  one  of  the  largest  branches  that  had  been  close  enough  to  the  ground  —  still  too  high  to  have  released  her  grasp  when  she  had,  learned  as  most  lessons  in  life  were.  the  difficult  way.  “  are  you  well  ?  i  did  not  hit  you  did  i  ?  ”  

location:  the  winter  market  of  wintertown,  close  to  the  tree  line open  to:  one  response

[oflcgends]

where:  wintertown,  before  the  newly  erected  statue  of  cregan  stark

when:  the  first  day,  just  after  the  procession  has  ended

who:  open  !

the  craftsmanship  is  impeccable,  really.  daenys  cannot  help  but  to  think  that  her  brother  has  outdone  himself  by  doing  such  a  thing,  though  part  of  her  wonders  somewhat  on  the  choice  of  location.  why  not  back  at  winterfell,  or  perhaps  somewhere  just  outside  her  gates?  she  doesn't  think  on  it  long,  though,  for  the  honoring  has  nothing  to  do  with  her  or  her  family.

she  looks  up,  wondering  exactly  what  kind  of  man  cregan  stark  was.  she  had  met  him  before,  however  briefly,  so  she  doesn't  really  know.  her  head  tilts  to  the  side  with  curiosity,  before  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps  draws  away  her  attention.

“marvelous,  isn't  it?”  she  says  with  a  smile.  “i  know  it  likely  pales  in  comparison  to  the  man,  but  it  truly  is  something.  the  procession  was  beautiful  as  well,  don't  you  think?”

[belcvd]

“  no.  ”  allows  the  word  to  hang  in  the  air,  uncaring  of  whom  it  hits.  the  statue  erected  was  a  symbol,  to  be  sure.  one  of  riches  that  had  not  been  offered  to  help  the  ailing  old  man,  a  name  that  struck  recognition  across  the  realm  regardless  of  alliance.  raised  in  a  house  that  espoused  loyalty  above  all,  the  former  dragon  kings  had  shown  it  meant  little.  if  they  thought  that  something  like  this,  something  that  could  be  knocked  down  and  trampled  in  the  same  sort  of  wars  that  he  and  countless  others  fought,  they  were  further  aware  from  their  reputation  than  he  once  supposed. a  balm  that  was  rotted  to  its  core  and  he  was  not  the  sort  that  would  coo  in  approval  of  something  he  was  staunchly  against.  “  it  is  the  opinion  of  the  starks  rather  than  myself  that  matters,  though.  ”  he  may  not  have  seen  them  in  some  time,  but  lyonel  was  doubtful  that  display  was  one  that  they  would  appreciate.