𝑩𝑰𝑳𝑮𝑰𝑳𝑰

MAHIRE MANWOODY. seven and twenty. lady of maester from kingsgrave.

[bilgilii]

𝖇𝖎𝖑𝖌𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖎 — roleplay blog penned by mina and affiliated with @crownsfm.

bilgili — turkish adjective meaning : knowledgeable, learned, wise, erudite.

( sevda erginci  ,  twenty - seven  ,  demiwoman  ,  she/they )  it looks like MAHIRE MANWOODY , the LADY MAESTER of KINGSGRAVE is prepared to play the game of thrones . you know , their PATIENT & MUNIFICENT side might help them along the way , but their SELF - WILLED & IMPERTINENT qualities won’t do them any favours. a little bird told me that they’re currently NEUTRAL ABOUT the tyrell rule and that their loyalties lie with HOUSE MANWOODY.  hm , interesting . that same little birdy also told tales of the sharp coolness of a soothing balm pressed against the skin ;  the clinking of heavy links of a chain beneath their robes ; a quivering lip stilling into a resolute resistance. will they win , or will they die ?

statistics

biography

timeline + extra information

thread + plotting tracker

[yrnwoods]

Jyana’s eyes flickered from person to person as they observed the people around them. House Reed would stay here as long as House Stark wanted them here, there weren’t may of the crannogmen here but the ones who did show up were strong in their loyalties. Jumping down from where she’d been sitting on the wall Jyana was almost ran into by a passerby. “Oh.” Some of the people liked to remind them that her people were smaller than most. But they were used to it. “It’s not polite to step on people.” They didn’t hold their tongue like some would like them to, some would be angry to even touch the ‘frog eaters’. @crownstarter​

[bilgilii]

+

          the  corridors  of  highgarden  were  not  meant  for  running  —  rather,  for  lurking  and  scheming  —  but  mahire  trailed  them  with  rushed  steps  nonetheless,  thankfully  missing  a  couple  of  people  who  gasp  as  they  go  by;  although  she  is  in  rapid  motion,  her  gaze  focus  on  the  contents  of  her  medical  bag,  filled  to  the  brim  with  bottles  and  a  book  or  two  that  did  not  belong  there.  enraptured  in  finding  the  volume  they  ought  to  mail  to  oldtown  before  noon,  their  attention  entirely  flees  from  anything  but  that,  which  definitely  increases  the  scare  of  having  the  reed  almost  falling  on  her  —  it  is  by  little  they  do  not  scream,  though  their  eyes  widen,  mouth  parted  in  shock  as  they  stepped  away  just  in  time  not  to  get  hit.  "what  the,"  is  all  they  mumble,  glancing  up  to  where  the  northerner  had  come  from.  did  lord  swann's  little  birds  actually  sprout  wings  now ?  "where  did  you  even  come  from ?"  assigning  blame  was  pointless,  as  the  both  of  them  were  obviously  distracted  and,  so,  they  prefer  to  fret  about  something  else.  "are  you  alright ?"

[blaekswan-deactivated20210428]

ladies, at which side of the womanhood spectrum are you today: unhinged or tender?

[bilgilii]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 : a couple of days after the riot 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 : vorian dayne ( @warfrcnts )

          there  is  logic  in  the  sovereign's  decision  for  a  lockdown  within  the  castle  —  the  surprise  raids  ought  to  be  thwarted  and  investigated  within  the  reach  so  the  royal  guard  may  make  the  best  use  of  their  jurisdiction,  without  anyone  stepping  around  the  trails  and  trying  to  smother  out  the  flames  of  their  guilt  over  such  hideous  twist  in  an  otherwise  pleasant  night.  and  yes,  however  fair  it  is,  it  doesn't  make  it  any  easier  to  settle  into  the  golden  cages  of  highgarden,  and  that  seems  to  be  a  feeling  easily  reciprocated  by  her  dornish  countrymen,  most  of  whom  took  restlessness  as  second  nature.  history  hints  that  such  behavior,  while  well  -  intended,  may  give  in  to  nasty  repercussions  —  after  all,  it  was  not  of  the  dornish's  inkling  to  receive  injustice  towards  themselves  without  a  proper  response  towards  it.

mahire,  for  their  own  part,  sure  was  trying  their  best  not  to  combust  to  the  claustrophobia  of  being  trapped  within  these  ivy  -  draped  walls.  they  are  no  threat  —  offering  their  services  to  care  for  the  smallfolk,  aided  by  the  praising  words  of  a  tyrell  son,  had  rendered  them  leniency  ahead  of  suspicion,  and  there  is  promise  of  the  unlocking  of  the  cages,  should  they  be  patient.  and  so,  she  threads  quietly  on  that  hope.  not  offered  to  others,  however,  may  drive  one  or  other  a  bit  tetchy,  and  mahire  knows  all  too  well  that  the  giant  that  comes  across  the  corner  of  the  dornish  quarters'  corridor  could  fit  well  into  that  role.  

"vorian  dayne !"  her  voice  is  loud  and  clear,  alerting  anyone  that  may  converse  with  the  giant  that  he  is  not  what  his  simple  clothing  may  suggest,  but  the  one  and  only  lordling  of  starfall.  there  is  confidence  in  her  step  as  she  makes  her  way  to  her  former  future  brother  -  in  -  law,  a  smile  holding  up  as  they  know  all  too  well  he  shall  not  inflict  harm  for  ruining  a  possible  get  away  for  affection  alone.  "you  can't  pass  for  a  servant  anymore,  boy.  you  got  that  hunched,  tight  back  of  a  ruling  lord  now."  for  effect,  a  slap  is  served  to  said  back,  the  loud  sound  barely  muffling  laughter.  "tell  me,  how  much  have  you  missed  me ?”

[bilgilii]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 : around noon on the day after the riots 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 : melike manwoody ( @melikems )

            inventory  has  been  the  terror  of  mahire's  life  as  far  as  she  can  remember  the  need  to  do  it.  at  the  citadel,  they  were  scolded  so  many  times  for  miscounting  they  ended  up  doing  it  more  times  than  necessary,  just  in  case  —  which  only  worked  to  make  the  activity  all  the  more  dreadful,  unable  to  be  smoothed  over  as  something  favorable  even  as  they  got  distracted  with  the  content  of  the  cataloging,  rather  than  the  act  itself.  working  on  the  list  of  items  the  manwoody  would  bring  to  the  capital  had  taken  at  least  a  week  out  of  their  lives,  counting,  conveying  with  melike  and  the  head  of  their  household  staff  to  assure  everything  was  where  it  should  be,  and  that  there  was  nothing  doubled  up  —  mahire  thought  themselves  free  from  that  boredom,  until  last  night,  when  all  that  work  was  thrown  to  ashes,  abandoned  amongst  pillagers  that  certainly  would  make  pretty  coin  out  of  their  sister's  favored  bejeweled  headdress.  

a  childish  attempt  to  escape  the  task  had  been  masked  under  the  visit  to  their  sister  -  in  -  law  melina,  but  as  the  sun  properly  rose  in  the  sky,  almost  giving  room  to  the  time  of  a  heavy  break  of  fast,  there  was  no  fleeing  their  obligation  and  so  they  made  their  way  back  to  the  manwoody  chambers.  "how  far  have  you  gotten ?"  defeat  coats  their  voice  in  a  higher  tone,  particular  to  the  company  of  the  closest  to  their  heart  alone  —  mahire  has  never  been  ashamed  of  whining  to  her  older  sister,  careless  if  she  would  receive  scowl  or  smile.  "have  you  saved  any  bread  for  me,  at  least ?  i’m  finally  hungry !”  they  had  not  had  an  ounce  of  appetite  the  day  before,  too  queasy  by  the  rocking  of  the  carriage  and  then  too  occupied  with  the  aftermath  of  their  arrival,  but  there  is  familiarity  in  the  way  their  hands  shake  now:  not  out  of  nerves,  but  hunger  (  it  prickles  remembrance  of  mehmet,  probably  clueless  of  his  daughters’  voyage,  and  mahire  halts  on  the  infantile  act,  slowly  taking  a  seat  across  their  sister  ).  “would  you  like  me  to  try  and  fetch  any  ravens  sent  to  you ?”

[windsandwinter]

open starter @crownstarter​

She’s been given permission to roam the grounds of Highgarden at least. She’s not sure if this is a luxury extended to all of the Tyrell’s guests or if special permissions have been given for the Northern Kingdom’s royal family. She doesn’t much care. All she knows is that she has to get out of her chambers or she’ll lose what little grasp on her temper she has left. 

It’s early morning, and not many people are about; those that she’s seen so far have all been wearing the sigil of House Tyrell. She’d hoped that the fresh air would give her a chance to think, to try and make sense of the disastrous conundrum that the whole of Westeros has been left with, but the air is muggy and humid, and she feels weighed down by it. She longs for the crisp, cold air of Winterfell. She’s thinking about the comfort of her own fur-lined bed when she hears a throat clear behind her. 

She doesn’t bother turning around. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not particularly in the mood for conversation at the moment. Say your piece and leave me be.”

[bilgilii]

+

            one  can  grow  used  to  the  lack  of  sleep  if  they  push  themselves  to  it,  and  that  was  the  case  with  mahire  —  if  they  had  struggled  on  the  first  years  at  oldtown,  waking  at  dawn  and  lingering  throughout  the  day  with  two  or  three  hours  of  sleep,  today  they  can  barely  feel  the  exhaustion;  even  if  their  bones  ache  and  they  long  for  bed,  they  know  it  would  be  more  uncomfortable  to  remain  there,  on  the  softness  of  the  mattress,  with  their  palms  burning  with  the  familiar  flames  brought  by  helplessness,  than  here.  perhaps  such  sentiment  had  been  forcefully  extended  to  many  under  these  gilded  roofs  after  the  misdeeds  by  unknown  hands,  and  it  comes  to  no  surprise  that  the  stark  would  be  one  of  the  most  troubled  —  though  not  particularly  opposed  to  the  tyrell,  mahire  did  not  directly  served  them  either,  and,  much  like  dorne,  they  embodied  neutrality  as  they  approach  the  woman  of  grey  and  white.  

“i  come  not  to  offer  conversation,  your  highness,  though  should  you  wish  to,  i  would  not  deny  it.”  the  roughness  of  her  treatment  is  smoothed  over  by  good  intentions  (  and  they  always  do  matter,  in  mahire’s  opinion,  anyways  ),  but  it  would  be  foolish  not  to  hesitate  as  they  attempt  to  approach,  gaze  shifting  from  the  princess  of  the  north  to  the  guard  standing  near.  “i  simply  wondered  if  you  would  not  care  for  a  sort  of  root  tea  to  settle  your  nerves ?  i  would  be  remiss  not  to  notice  you  need  to  rest  to  keep  your  wits  about  you  to  support  your  family  and  your  kingdom.”

[bilgilii]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 : early morning on the day after the riots 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 : melina tyrell ( @crownsglory​ )

            even  during  the  brief  time  in  which  they  had  lived  in  the  tyrell  court,  mahire  had  struggled  with  fitting  in  —  they  doubt  much  has  changed  now,  yet  obligation  and  longing  brings  them  back  to  highgarden,  even  more  unfamiliar  with  all  of  it.  whilst  they  are  glad  for  the  well  -  known  weather  of  the  reach,  it  only  evidences  the  stark  contrasts  of  fashion  between  their  homeland  and  their  current  location,  and  the  few  clothing  articles  salvaged  from  loss  of  their  caravan  during  their  travellings  fall  muted  and  wrong  against  the  vibrant,  the  florals,  the  gowns  well  -  suiting  of  the  courtly  taste,  especially  when  they  are  to  be  presented  to  the  king  and  his  captain  of  the  guard,  and,  then,  the  rest  of  the  nobles,  anxious  after  being  cooped  up  and  possibly  ferocious  for  anything  to  sink  their  claws  on.  after  such  a  traumatic  arrival,  the  last  thing  they  wish  to  do  is  to  stand  out  any  more,  and  so,  a  gentle  suggestion  to  a  silly  concern  guides  them  to  the  private  chambers  of  the  eldest  tyrell  princess.  

it  would  be  the  least  to  say  that  they  do  feel  silly  —  if  next  to  the  older  pair  of  the  twin  duo,  mahire  felt  comforted,  next  to  his  counterpart,  they  often  felt  under  scrutiny  (  rightfully  so  —  mahire  would  have  done  the  same  to  anyone  who'd  come  near  mahfuz,  even  after  self  -  imposed  distance  during  the  last  five  years  of  his  life  ). their  steps  are  uncertain  but  forward  after  they  are  introduced  to  the  royal,  face  lowering  respectfully  before  their  voice  cuts  through  the  candle  -  lit  room.  "if  i  well  recall, you  had  a  fondness  for  gardening,  your  highness.”  mahire  would  never  judge  someone,  even  a  princess  of  the  realm,  for  tending  to  her  own  crop  —  if  anything,  they  thought  it  endearing  of  melina  to  keep  herself  grounded ( quite  literally  so ).  “though  i  have  been  much  occupied  with  my  lord  father  in  kingsgrave,  i  have  done  quite  a  bit  of  exploring  through  the  red  mountains,  much  to  some  of  the  neighbors’  vexation,  and  i  found  a  bloom  that  you  may  be  interested  in  caring  for  yourself.  the  locals  call  it  princess  of  the  night  —  i  could  not  bring  it  without  bringing  it  to  its  death,  but  i  have  sketches  of  it, and,  of  course,”  there  is  a  pause  as  they  fumble  for  a  moment  with  the  contents  of  her  pocket,  pulling  out  a  small  notebook  and  a  small  bag.  “the  seeds  for  you  to  explore  them  yourself,  if  you’d  like.”

agitation  melts  into  soft  surprise  as  her  gaze  falls  on  the  slumbering  body  of  the  other  princess  dearest  to  rasim's  heart,  her  little  mouth  slightly  parted  as  nisa  nur  took  advantage  of  the  innocence  of  youth  to  doze  off,  careless.  "oh,"  mahire  had  not  seen  the  girl  since  she  was  but  a  wrinkly  little  thing,  a  knee  -  looking  babe  with  sprouting  curls  that  hinted  to  follow  the  pattern  of  her  father's  —  whilst  rasim  had  not  spared  praises  for  his  first  born,  there  are  hardly  any  memories  in  both  of  their  minds  to  form  a  proper  bond  other  than  the  one  fueled  by  affection  between  mahire  and  her  father  (  in  itself,  often  marred  by  ridiculous  jealousy  over  her  long  gone  mother  ).  "i  can  come  back  later,  your  highness.  i  don't  wish  to  disrupt  the  babe  by  discussing  the  latest  fashion  of  gowns."

[bilgilii]

dyvinities​:

back   in   goldengrove   ,   cirilla   often   spends   hours   among   both   her   ladies   and   those   of   the   household   ,   needle   in   hand   and   laughter   on   her   lips   .   and   while   she   doesn’t   claim   to   be   the   most   accomplished   in   the   art   ,   she   has   managed   to   create   many   beautiful   pieces   -   clothing   and   artwork   alike   .   it’s   a   tedious   task   to   some   .   her   sister   has   never   enjoyed   it   so   ,   but   it   matters   not   to   cirilla   .   

❝   i   do    .   ❞   cirilla   replies   ,   soft   smile   on   her   lips   .   she   pulls   her   needle   through   the   next   loop   ,   tying   a   knot   before   continuing   .   the   piece   is   far   from   finished   ,   but   she’s   enjoying   it   thus   far    .   ❝  very   much   so   .   it’s   always   been   such   a   calming   act    .   ❞   she   raises   her   gaze   to   the   other   ,   taking   momentary   pause   on   the   other’s   work   .   ❝   and   you   ?   do   you   spend   much   time   on   needlework   ?   ❞

            even  if  the  other’s  gaze  holds  no  judgement,  the  twist  of  mahire’s  features  is  enough  answer  about  their  low  opinion  over  their  own  piece  :  obviously  lacking  (  it  is  an  exaggeration,  for  it  would  be  fine,  if  they  were  a  twelve  year  old,  but  there  are  womanly  expectations  they  have  never  wished  to  bend  to,  and,  thus,  the  end  result  would  likely  serve  as  a  rough  handkerchief.  it  matters  not  ).  “only  on  people,  rather  than  cloth,  i’m  afraid,  lady  rowan.  it  does  make  you  more  attentive  to  the  work  at  hand  when  the  subject  flinches  and  moans  —  i  suppose  i  should  be  thankful  this  is  not  the  case  for  this  hoop,  else  any  attempt  of  a  calm  day  would  be  lost  for  us.”  to  make  their  point,  she  jabs  the  needle  onto  the  supposed  design  of  her  so  called  art,  offering  a  grin  to  the  other.  

“seeing  your  gentle  hand  now,  i’m  all  too  regretful  i  could  not  see  you  last  night,  with  your  masquerade  ensemble.  have  you  had  any  fun  with  it ?  before...”  they  make  a  wave  with  their  hand,  motion  making  unnecessary  to  speak  with  words  what  has  been  the  talk  of  the  castle  since  the  news  of  the  attack  in  the  villages  came  to  highgarden,  dampening  the  night  of  the  supposedly  clueless  noblefolk.  “have  you  had  word  of  goldegrove  yet ?”

[bilgilii]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 : mid afternoon on the day after the riots 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 : cirilla rowan ( @dyvinities​​​ )

          needlework  was  an  activity  early  abandoned  in  the  manwoody  household  —  although  the  mother  had  been  fairly  talented  in  the  craft,  neither  daughter  had  the  ability  to  sit  still  long  enough  to  go  through  the  stitches,  even  when  all  they  had  to  do  was  to  cross  the  line  in  the  right  spots  (  mahfuz  was  the  only  one  who  had  managed  to  do  that,  only  for  mahire  to  whack  him  with  the  hoop  ).  trading  cloth  for  flesh  during  their  training  did  not  make  the  activity  any  more  interesting,  but  there  was  more  care  necessary  not  to  leave  a  hideous  scar  on  the  patient,  and  so,  now,  mahire  tried  to  emulate  that  same  worry,  though  they  almost  stab  their  finger  rather  than  the  cloth.  

barely  stifling  a  frown,  the  manwoody  glances  at  their  companion's  enviable  piece.  "do  you  much  enjoy  this  pastime,  lady  rowan?"  mahire  questions.  they  could  not  imagine  themselves  sitting  by  one  of  the  windowsills  of  starfall  and  sewing  devan's  undershirts,  but  cirilla  seemed  graceful  enough  to  be  a  visage  whilst  doing  that  herself.  "it  is  certainly...a  distraction."  and  by  the  seven,  did  they  all  need  that  at  this  moment.  

[bilgilii]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 : on the day after the riots 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 : joanna martell, née lannister ( @joannamartell​ )

          many  a  thing  had  been  lost  during  their  entrance  to  highgarden,  but  mahire  knew  they  had  to  be  grateful  to  still  hold  their  lives,  and  to  be  mostly  unharmed  was  a  luck  not  many  outside  these  safe  walls  had  been  privy  to.  habit  also  comes  as  a  perk  for  them,  as  though  most  of  their  luggages  had  not  made  it  past  the  gates,  and  were  likely  pillaged  if  not  burned  to  the  ground,  their  personal  small  chests  —  one  for  letters,  and  one  for  their  herbs  and  other  medical  supplies  —  had  been  kept  on  their  carriage  with  them,  and,  thus,  were  unscathed,  as  was  their  content.  and  so,  the  many  parchments  addressed  to  the  ruling  princess  were  safe,  held  against  mahire’s  chest  as  they  were  announced  in  the  martell’s  private  drawing  room.  

“your  highness,”  reverence  is  a  must,  though  her  bow  is  quick  and  not  as  profuse  as  her  septa  would  have  demanded,  but  mahire  would  like  to  believe  the  distance  between  herself  and  the  lannister  -  born  lady  was  not  as  great  as  the  difference  in  their  station  would  suggest.  “the  letters  i  have  written  you  about  have  survived,  and  i’m  jubilated  to  know  you  will  be  able  to  see  how  eldrin  has  drawn  your  hair  —  you  do  like  lions,  do  you  not  ?”  there  is  a  small  jest  in  her  soft  tone  of  voice  as,  if  she  well  recalls,  the  dornish  orphan  had  made  a  mane  out  of  their  ruling  princess’  hair  do,  in  the  best  fashion  a  six  year  old  can  do.  “i  hope  your  own  have  not  suffered  much  of  a  startle  from  the  way  the  masquerade  unfolded.”  though  they  saw  it  as  all  too  important  that  the  adults  took  their  responsibility  and  did  something,  it  would  be  for  the  best  if  the  children’s  innocence  were  maintained,  even  throughout  such  chaos  (  especially  when  many  others  were  not  as  fortunate  ).

[gaudiun]

 status :  closed  starter  for  mahire  manwoody,  @bilgilii​  setting :  highgarden,  after  the  masquerade  ball

 he  was  into  his  chambers  still  crunching  the  numbers  to  understand  the  losses  to  the  kingdom  when  the  guard  came  to  his  door  to  inform  the  prince  that  melike  and  mahire  were  now  secure  into  highgarden.  trying  to  keep  the  pace  of  someone  that  wasn’t  completely  terrified,  rasim  walked  to  the  chambers  designed  for  the  manwoody  women.  at  every  new  step,  his  heart  beats  even  quicker  inside  of  his  chest,  all  the  weight  of  that  day  finally  dropping  into  him  as  he  rushed  to  see  mahire.  it  was  more  than  two  years  since  they  have  seen  each  other  for  the  last  time,  and  rasim  wasn’t  able  to  keep  the  anxiety  and  euphoria  inside  of  him.  he  steps  inside  of  the  chambers  once  the  guard  announces  his  presence  –  luckily  melike  wasn’t  at  the  common  room  between  the  two  bedrooms.  waiting  for  the  guard  to  leave  them  alone  rasim  can’t  even  breathe.  “  for  the  gods,  i  was  so  worried.  ”  he  finally  breathes  as  he  brings  mahire  closer,  hugging  the  way  he  had  dreamed  so  many  times  over  the  past  years.  at  that  moment  nothing  mattered  for  him:  not  who  mahire  was,  nor  who  could  be  watching,  or  his  position.  rasim  only  wanted  to  feel  mahire’s  small  body,  making  sure  that  it  was  real.

[bilgilii]

          restlessness  was  not  a  foreign  concept  for  the  youngest  manwoody,  especially  facing  such  stress  —  though  part  of  their  body  ached  and  begged  for  reprieve,  their  brain  seemed  to  be  wired  into  an  endless  supply  of  energy,  forcing  them  to  keep  moving,  instead  going  through  each  and  every  one  of  their  staff  to  check  for  any  possible  wounds  or  injuries.  the  last  one  of  the  impromptu  patients  is  melike,  who  had  been  busy  trying  to  do  something  useful  herself,  but  unlike  their  staff,  who  had  to  suffer  through  their  mandatory  care,  their  sister  is  less  willing  to  be  probed  and  tended  to,  and  there  is  relief  in  the  way  the  eldest  between  them  grumbles  as  one  of  the  maids  announce  the  arrival  one  of  the  tyrell  royals.  generously,  mahire  offers  themselves  to  handle  the  visit  —  melike  had  ridden  most  of  the  day,  and,  so,  her  body  was  more  exhausted,  and  she  was  still  stewing,  even  without  the  obligation  to  put  herself  through  faking  pleasantries  with  their  sovereign  family  and,  so,  the  lady  regent  yielded  without  much  struggle.

thank  the  gods,  routine  guides  her  to  pious  gratitude,  a  feeling  that  intensifies  as  she  finally  catches  sight  of  him.  for  optics  alone,  she  bows  to  the  prince,  but  any  words  of  lordly  respect  are  stuck  in  her  throat,  her  big  eyes  fixed  on  his  figure  instead.  obviously,  he  fared  better  than  the  lot  of  them,  who  had  not  been  occupied  with  the  glittering  atmosphere  of  the  masquerade  and  instead  been  covered  with  soot  and  dirt  and  fear,  but  it  has  been  so  long  mahire  can  barely  recall  if  the  bags  under  his  eyes  are  new  or  have  simply  become  a  fixture  to  his  appearance.  before  she  can  finally  utter  a  word,  he  moves  faster,  but  she  melts  into  him  nonetheless,  exhaling  heavily  with  a  soft  sound  that  could  pass  for  a  sob  were  she  not  so  hardened  tears  were  a  rarity.

“i’m  here,”  she  says,  allowing  herself  to  enjoy  the  comfort  of  his  embrace,  the  scent  she  had  forgotten,  the  mere  feeling  of  vulnerability  that  she  had  struggled  with  for  so  long  near  anyone  else.  “we’re  here,”  they  reiterate,  though  slowly  she  pulls  away,  keeping  a  hand  on  his  chest  (  how  silly  it  is  of  her  to  be  gladdened  by  the  rapid  drumming  that  meets  her  fingertips?  ).  “melike.”  her  sister  would  be  unlikely  to  barge  between  them,  but  her  eyebrows  still  knit  in  concern,  clinging  to  the  tiniest  probability,  and  so  her  hands  slips  down  from  his  chest  to  find  his  own.  “come,”  there  is  more  privacy  in  her  private  chambers,  and  after  patching  up  most  of  the  manwoody  household,  the  debt  owed  by  them  could  be  paid  in  silence  of  however  improper  this  may  look,  or,  more  importantly,  sound  if  it  ever  got  back  to  the  ears  of  her  sister.  

closing  the  door  behind  herself,  her  gaze  latches  onto  him  again,  deft  hand  climbing  up  to  cup  at  his  cheek.  “thank  you,  rasim,”  it  was  not  the  gods,  but  it  was  by  his  interference  that  they  had  made  back  here,  safe  and  sound  —  and  by  his  presence  that  she  found  some  resemblance  of  repose.  “you  can’t  stay,  can  you ?  you  must  be  so  very  busy.”  by  the  heavens,  she  wished  she  was  as  busy  as  he  must  be  —  at  least  making  herself  useful  would  be  better  than  just  wait.

[amarhis]

𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴  𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙳𝚈  ─  :  an  event  summary.

with  the  health  of  the  ruling  lord  of  kingsgrave  being  as  uncertain  as  it  has  ever  been,  the  arrival  of  house  manwoody  had  been  delayed  by  unforeseen  circumstances  as  the  current  lady  regent,  melike  manwoody,  attempted  to  dissuade  the  concerns  of  her  sister  and  her  household  regarding  the  matter.  their  travel  was  primarily  detained  by  the  demands  of  lady  mahire  manwoody,  who  sought  an  exemption  to  the  invitation  that  had  been  extended  by  house  tyrell  and  the  reach  in  order  to  look  after  the  health  of  their  father  and,  when  such  requests  were  refuted,  the  journey  was  further  hampered  by  the  ruling  lord  himself,  who  experienced  a  sudden  onslaught  of  the  shakes.  

Continuar lendo

[bilgilii]

Lilac

question from botanical headcanons : currently accepting.

lilac :   what was your muse’s childhood like ? how has their upbringing affected them as they’ve aged ?

mahire’s childhood was perfection. not only she was highborn, and thus, given all the financial devices that bother others less fortunate, her family was, for all purposes, very happy: her parents were head over heels over each other, she had a twin brother she got along with, and she was wonderfully spoiled by all and, most importantly, she was innocent. she did not know of what took to make her childhood so dearly happy, such as the troubles of ruling and the struggles faced by commonfolk, or her elder siblings taking on the blunt of primogenity so she could enjoy her “freedom”. that means that because she did not have any considerable struggle, she was fairly exposed when disaster did happen, and her response to these tragic events do carry her through this day, fifteen years later, for better or for worse. 

it has also made them all too aware of the importancy of relationships, particularly those that are familial or akin to it - - her father pushing her to comform to a life they are not comfortable with, and marrying a man they do not like, as an example, can be excused, because they know he loves her and has given her almost unparaleled freedom; self - sacrifice, thus, to them, seems like a natural response, even if sometimes going by that is almost ilogical and harming not only to themselves, but to those they care about ( i.e : butting heads with their sister over what is the best treatment for their father or refusing to be with someone they truly care about and who wants them just because they know it would isolate them from their family ).

[bilgilii]

belladonna : how does your muse respond to silence ? do they take comfort in soundlessness , or seek to fill the void with noise ?

question from botanical headcanons : currently accepting.

whilst generally uncomfortable with staying still, finding letargy does nothing to distract her from what truly bothers her, silence is not really a problem for mahire. back at home, when she was young, this was never an issue : kingsgrave was full and lively and if anything, she would always have mahfuz talking her ear off; the citatel, as a place of learning, much like an university, demands silence, and i believe they have seen many a novice giving up on the opportunity just for not being able to abide to such strict rules - - and while there are some mahire struggled with, too, they eventually bent, and feel safe and comfortable with silence rather than a loud atmosphere. that is, however, not to say they are contrary to the opposite, just that, as long as she has something to do, she won't mind spending the day without someone blabbering next to them.

[bilgilii]

hydrangea :   how much does your muse value communication in their relationships with others ?  are they prone to being misunderstood ?

question from botanical headcanons : currently accepting.

simply put, i think they only don’t talk when they don’t wish something to be known or wish to distance themselves from the person - - otherwise, i’m prone to believe they are fairly open with their sentiments and their words, etc, especially if the other person has their trust. so if that is the case, i think they’d be bothered by non - reciprocity ( which can be rather hypocritical of her, considering she does keeps her walls around people, even people she loves, excusing her secrets as non important or too dangerous to disclose ). as for being misunderstood, they do believe that they are fairly misunderstood as a person, and for their non conventional desires and ambitions, and until some point that is true, because they inch out of what is expected, of what she should comform to. 

[bilgilii]

aloe :   how does your muse handle grief ?

question from botanical headcanons : currently accepting.

very very very very very poorly. this has been discussed before, but mahire has the very bad habit of swallowing up everything inside of her - - compartmentalizing, i'd say? it was a trauma response to what happened to them as a child, and it just followed them through life, with the mindset that they are very passionate and will do just about anything to help people, keep them alive and healthy and happy if possible, but if there is nothing they can do ( i.e: they're dead ). she has to move on, not ponder or think about it at all, or they'll just be consummed by guilt ( which, at times, is the case whenever she thinks of devan, so she just tries not to, and put this energy into good use to help vorian instead ). so with every death they hold under their belly, they just...don't process it? no talking about it, just moving forward. i literally have this drafted rn so if this doesn't td;lr about mahire, i dont know what does lmao.

[promptfairy]

❥     𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒    [   𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂    ]   .

headcanon prompts with questions based on plants   &   what they represent in flower language .  happy roleplaying !!  ♡

abatina :   is there anything in life your muse has changed their mind about over time   (   due to becoming more educated on the topic ,   certain experiences  ,   etc .   ) ,    or that they   would   change their mind about under certain circumstances ?  

acanthus :   is your muse deceptive ,   or willing to lie or deceive to achieve certain means ?   why or why not ?   

aloe :   how does your muse handle grief ?

amaryllis :   what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in ?   how do they express that pride ?   

anemone :   how does your muse view the world ;   as a cruel   &   unforgiving place ,   a land full of wonders ,   or something in - between ?  where does that world view come from   (   what experiences ,   life lessons ,   etc .   ) ?  

angelica :   where does your muse draw inspiration in life ?   what motivates them ?

apple blossom :   how does your muse go about expressing or not expressing their sexuality ?  

bachelor’s button :   does your muse actively seek romantic companionship ,   or cherish the liberties of being single ? 

basil :   does your muse have a love - hate relationship with anyone or anything ?

bay tree :   does your muse seek glory   &   accolades ,   or do they favour a simpler ,   more personal life ?  

begonia :   how cautious is your muse ?   are they prone to noticing red flags ,   or paranoid to the point of untrusting most everyone ?   why or why not ?  

belladonna :   how does your muse respond to silence ?   do they take comfort in soundlessness ,   or seek to fill the void with noise ?   

bluebell :   does your muse learn from their past ,   or are they prone to repeating the same mistakes ?  

carnation :   what is your muse’s relationship with their gender ?   how do they express or not express this relationship ?  

chamomile :   what is your muse likely to take away from a painful experience ?   are they one to be haunted by adversity ,   or to use what they’ve gone through to become stronger ?  

chrysanthemum :   how does your muse express romantic love ?  how do they feel about love as a concept ?  

daffodil :   is your muse one to be loyal in relationships ,   or are they likely to quickly move from one bond to another ?

daisy :   did your muse ever feel as though their innocence had been lost ?   what moment in their life could be described as the end of their innocence ?  

edelweiss :   what was the bravest moment in your muse’s life ?  are they known to be courageous from then on ?  

fern :   does your muse believe in magic or cosmic forces ,   or are they more likely to think their life is ultimately a matter of their own control ?  

forget - me - not :   has your muse ever forgotten something that is or was important to them ?   are they afraid of forgetting things like that ?  

gardenia :   is your muse one to confess romantic feelings early on ,   or to conceal them for long periods of time ?  

gladiolus :   describe a moment from your muse’s life that they will never forget .

goldenrod :   does your muse believe in luck or fortune ?  why or why not ?   where do they believe these things come from ?  

heliotrope :   does your muse believe in soulmates ?

hibiscus :   how does your muse view the gentler ,   daintier things in life ?   as things worth preserving   &   caring for ,   or things only bound to wither   &   disappear ?  

holly :   how strong is your muse’s sense of intuition ?  are they aware of it ?   do they ever fear that it is only paranoia ?  

hollyhock :   how strong is your muse’s sense of ambition ?  what’s something they strive for in life ?  

hyacinth :   is your muse athletic ?   does it come naturally to them ,   or have they had to work for their physique and/or skill ?  

hydrangea :   how much does your muse value communication in their relationships with others ?  are they prone to being misunderstood ?

iris :   if your muse could convey one last message to someone they have lost or left behind ,   what would it be ?  

ivy :   what are your muse’s views on marriage ?   do they believe it is something strictly for love ,   or an institution rooted in business   &   social benefits ?   do they desire or have they desired to be married ?

lavender :   how easy is it to gain your muse’s trust ?  once their trust is broken ,   how might one go about mending it ?  

lilac :   what was your muse’s childhood like ?   how has their upbringing affected them as they’ve aged ? 

lily :   how does your muse view their mother ?  

lotus :   has your muse ever felt as though they’ve been reborn ?  have they ever desired the feeling of a fresh start ,   or a better understanding of themself and/or the world around them ?  

magnolia :   describe your muse’s relationship with nature   &   the natural world .  

marigold :   is your muse prone to jealousy ?  how might they handle envious feelings ?  

mint :   does your muse view themself as virtuous   &   moral ?  what do these words mean to them ?

nasturtium :   describe your muse’s relationship with their birthplace ,   or homeland .  

oak :   who would your muse consider the strongest person they know ?  

pansy :   does your muse often reflect on their own actions ?   do they ever think a lot about the past ,   and what they could have done differently ?

parsley :   describe a holiday your muse enjoys ,   and why they enjoy it .

peony :   what would a   ‘  happy life  ’   look like in your muse’s eyes ?

poppy :   what comforts your muse ?

rhododendron :   is your muse receptive to warnings   &   advice given by others ?

rose :   how much does your muse value other people ?   do they wish to have many friends ,   lovers ,   and/or associates ?   are they an easy person to love ?

sage :   what is your muse’s legacy ?   what do they want to be remembered for   &   what might they actually be remembered for ?  

salvia :   is your muse possessive over people or things that matter a lot to them ?  how do they express that possessiveness ,   or lack thereof ? 

snapdragon :   is your muse merciful ?  why or why not ?

southernwood :   how seriously does your muse take themself ?   do they prefer a solemn   &   intellectual atmosphere or do they delight in jokes   &   banter ?  

sunflower :   what brings your muse the most joy in life ?  

tulip :   how does your muse view people in general ?  

violet :   how does your muse respond to betrayal ?

willow :   how does your muse handle sadness   &   depression ?

zinnia :   how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ?   has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?