mobile posting just to say that my shifts at work are still v weird and I'll try to get back to writing plotting soon I swear
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$LAYYYTER
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@corlapidis
mobile posting just to say that my shifts at work are still v weird and I'll try to get back to writing plotting soon I swear
mobile posting just to say that my shifts at work are still v weird and I'll try to get back to writing plotting soon I swear
changed a lil about my verses page, did a brush up on my mobile header and icon !! time to sleep.
for @firesborn.
« i’m sure you understand, empathise even, but none of my words are vain or hollow. all i want is justice, my lady, nothing more, nothing else. i too want what is mine, by the old gods and the new. » she feared nothing, she wanted nothing more than to make her enemies taste silver through their throats. the widow bends no knee, yes, she had not travelled that far to swear to some bloody, heavy crown. revenge. all she known.
for @seascalled.
house torike, house torike. the widow had met with them in years past, always in a happier place, she remembered well their sigil, their words. the sea was always something she feared, but in her youth she had wondered how it would feel like to sail free - but the seven had other plans ( they always had ). word was the lady of salkire keep requested a meeting with the widow, which catelyn thought surprising, as she felt like her son would be the obvious choice. the seven would have their reasons.
« lady lorenah. » the woman stood tall, the smell of water with her. what a familiar scent, the widow thought. « i am afraid these are not the best circunstances, but we make do. »
for @hiddensteel.
« i remember when i was your age ... seeing my lord father leave so suddenly, things i had not understood at the time ... it would never be the prettiest of days, yes. » had the seven guided her husband, her oldest daughter’s father, the rock she built her castle upon, to safety it was all she hoped & prayed for. « but they’ll come back, rest assured. they always do. »
for @aclashofmuses ( robb. )
« i understand youth has its place, but it is not the time nor the place to be playing king, boy !! » her words, sharp blades, were perhaps too sharp for the moment at hand. she stopped herself before she got cut in their throw. « what i want you to understand is that we have a duty to fulfill and that comes first, my son. »
coerulus:
@corlapidis
When the news first reached Brienne she’d thought it was a fever dream. Septon Meribald had needed to assure her it was real several times over, relaying the information to her as he changed the bandages on her face. On hearing that her lady was alive, she’d wanted to ride for Riverrun immediately, but it was five torturous days before Septon Meribald allowed she might be strong enough to travel.
If her horse hadn’t needed to rest Brienne would scarcely have stopped on the way, though her wounds pained her throughout the whole journey. She’d expected danger behind every tree and bend in the road, but she’d made it to the castle without further difficulty. The men at the gates had been eventually consented to let her in, but she was made to give up her weapons and given an escort of two armed soldiers. They agreed to take her to Lady Catelyn, at least. That was what she wanted, more than food or rest or a warm fire.
Once she was standing outside Lady Catelyn’s bedchamber, though, she wasn’t sure what to do. All through her journey, she’d convinced herself that this was real, that she’d be able to see Lady Catelyn again. At no point had she considered what she would actually say. She hadn’t come all this way to stop here, though. She raised a hand, took a deep breath, and knocked.
night after night the echoes of those screaming voices had a grip on her throat. the sky could crumble and the widow wouldn’t notice - they were louder than storms. she had wished, in those hours, for the stranger to take her away too - it was too much to bear, all at the same time. she was tired, yes, tired was a good word, all that had happened was too much to be considered a trial of the gods. life was cruel, yes, but what had she done to deserve such a heavy hand ??
she sat besides the window to the riverlands, the twins far away in the distance, the last place where she saw her son dethrowned from his life. it was painful, yes, no mother should see their children die, but the truth was that she survived, or so the stranger wanted her to. she was glad that in that moment of madness, she had managed the strength to ride down to riverrun, her home by the trident, her uncle not speaking a single word. news would follow suit. the widow returns to her resting place, where there is no rest but mourning.
days passed, and night after night she dreamed of eddard and robb, united and hunting, while bran and rickon, the youngest, waited for her to embrace them. it seemed like too long ago she had all the strength to bring back what remained of her family. but what now ?? what can the cornered pray do ??
a server ser blackfish appointed to help the widow had told her of someone who had come to see her. without a second thought, catelyn ordered to be left alone - with what honor could she meet with anyone but her sorrow ?? - but it seemed like those efforts were for naught. her face turned to the door of her chambers, the knock on it echoed through the room. a familiar noise, she thought. « come... come in. » she exhaled, it was not like she had any other option.
Starter Call.
is… is úlfamóðir (or rather, ulfamodir) a good url… kinda sick of my current one?
I AM A CREATURE OF GRIEF, DUST, & BITTER LONGINGS. indie catelyn stark / lady stoneheart written by rivers.
Reblog if you want your followers to ask you anything they're curious about.
feel free to send me IC asks if you could indulge me in writing catelyn
is... is úlfamóðir (or rather, ulfamodir) a good url... kinda sick of my current one?
the ground shrivels with her pace, hands on the body of the trees. the pain is too much, yes, but at least the quiet of the woods fills her chest, her heart beating soundly, heavily, but at least it is still beating. in those few moments of quiet rememberance, she grazes upon the blue sky above her. ( it’s so clear, she thinks, it’s so clear. ) the memories of a full house, a full table, the echoes of their voices through the walls of her home fill her thoughts, as a long sigh leaves her throat. nothing would ever be the same - she thought to herself, looking to the side, only trees as far as the eye could see. she ought to be strong, yes, in front of her son and his men. no one would see her walls crumbling as long as there was duty to be done, honour to be had, family to be reunited. but in the grasp of the golden, solemn hour, she let herself shed a single, exhasperated tear. the widow only hoped, in the back of her lungs, that no one saw her in that state.
I AM A CREATURE OF GRIEF, DUST, & BITTER LONGINGS. indie catelyn stark / lady stoneheart written by rivers.
😎