the arbor

[desmera]

littlerxsequeen‌:

Margaery knew her cousin well enough to know that this event was more than just a fundraiser for her, though she supposed the same could be said for any member of their family. Social events were always a chance for the family to grow their reach in the world, and this was no different. She was sure her cousin saw it the same way.

“That old thing fits you like a glove. It’s a wonder anyone was dim enough to leave you on your own.” She returned her cousin’s teasing with a grin of her own, moving her glass to meet the other before taking another sip of her champagne. “I always have my eyes on someone,” it was Margaery’s turn to offer a wink, “not that they need to know that just yet.”

Desmera had always done what was expected and though she enjoyed making connections and networking, there were times when she wanted little more than to be at home in her pajamas, drinking a glass of wine as her dog curled up on her feet. But spending time with those she loved, especially family, made it better and she laughed.

“Oh I’ve had a few try. Men, though.” She shrugged, both of them knowing she wouldn’t have given them the time of day. Her brow lifted as she took another sip. “Oh? Well, just because they don’t need to know doesn’t mean that I need to be kept in the dark.” She laughed and ran her hand through a tendril of hair, her drink becoming emptier as she talked. “So, spill. Who are you eyeing tonight?”

[desmera]

renly baratheon

He frowned a little on default. Renly loved his brothers but he knew they were acquired taste. Not everyone always acquired it. Mostly it tended to run in the family. “Robert was quite the believer of free love in my youth. Mostly it means I’ve got more nieces and nephews to spoil, which hardly bothers me.” A truth and a lie all at once.

“Good things and compliments about the way you leave a room.” Renly said with a grin, back to his usual cheerful self again. Sylva would totally chew him out for this later and it would totally be worth it. He shrugged comfortably. “Anything you’d like to share, really. Just want to get to know you better.”

She was not in the habit of pleasing everyone; truthfully, Desmera did not even wish to try. She allowed herself a laugh, though it was restrained as was proper in such an environment. “You don’t say,” she remarked, tone wry, bordering on sarcastic. “How many do you have? He always struck me as the type that wanted to field his own football team.” The words were a bit of a jest, though Desmera knew they might not be in the best taste.

 Her lips twitched once more, though it was much more genuine than it had been before. The smile met her eyes easily and she shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll have to remember that.” One brow arched as she considered what to share about herself. She gestured to one of the paintings on the wall, a landscape of wheat fields in the Reach. “What do you think of that?”

[desmera]

margaery tyrell

Margaery’s eyes danced around the room as she took a sip from her drink. She was buzzed enough to feel her inhibitions loosening, but not enough to loose herself completely. She had far too much too much to do to fall into that, anyway. 

She knew her brothers had to be around somewhere, and the rest of her family, and her face brightened as she saw her cousin approaching. “Desmera!” Margaery looked the woman over, grinning as she accepted the compliment. “As if there were any other choice. But look at you!” Her voice cooed, before she raised a playful eyebrow, shaking her head. “No one has proven themselves worthy just yet. But the night his still young.”

She attended many of these events and, if she could say such compliments about herself, Desmera thought she was quite good at networking and ensuring that the Redwyne name remained one at the forefront of minds in the Reach. But she much preferred to spend time with her family and friends and seeing Margaery tonight made the networking much more bearable.

Desmera’s laugh echoed in the room and she shook her head. “This old thing?” she asked, winking as she took another sip of her drink. It was a new dress, of course, though she enjoyed the tease of pretending otherwise. “That it is.” She held out her glass to clink against her cousin’s. “Do you have your eyes on anyone?”

[desmera]

renly baratheon

She was definitely pretty in the way that most men found women pretty– he’d spent enough time pretending to be straight that if he needed to he could compliment her on the sorts of things women liked. Good to know that Sylva had excellent taste.

“The best Baratheon, in my humble opinion. At least of the elder brothers. I refuse to pick between my nieces and nephews.” Renly said, smiling easily as he shook her hand. She recognized him which he appreciated after Loras hadn’t (not that he held it against Loras). He liked her already. Hopefully she liked Syvla.

“One gossip in particular, actually. Sylva Santigar, she’s talked my ear off about you recently. Thought I might as well get to know you for myself.”

Her lips twisted into a wry smile and Desmera shook her head. “I do not believe it’s difficult to judge,” she mused, the comment droll. She’d never thought much of Baratheons in general but Desmera would admit she’d never before had much reason to interact with them either. She lifted a glass to her lips. “There are quite a passel of them, aren’t there?”

The name was unfamiliar, but then again Desmera was not in the practice of knowing names of those she did not interact with regularly. One eyebrow arched as she considered Renly’s words and it was only when she remembered the discussion she’d had with a woman in the Prime Minister’s portrait gallery that it rang a bell. “Hopefully she’s only said good things,” she remarked. “But what would you care to know, Mr. Baratheon?”

[desmera]

Loras’ Benefit Gala @littlerxsequeen​

Loras’ gala was in full swing and the abundance of alcohol meant that the guests had begun to loosen up. Even the most staunch of traditionalists was not above dancing to the latest rap hit and people watching had never before been as enjoyable as Desmera Redwyne thought it was now. She had yet to interact with Margaery and after doing another lap – and picking up another drink – the elder woman finally caught sight of her.

It did not take long to cross the room and Desmera raised a brow as she saw the dress her cousin wore with the neckline that was lower than she’d chosen for herself. “You look amazing!” She leaned in for an air kiss before pulling back and looking at Margaery once more before her eyes drifted to those around them. “Found anyone to take home yet?”

[desmera]

Loras’ Benefit Gala; Highgarden @roseloras​

Loras’ gala had clearly spared no expense, that much was clear as Desmera Redwyne walked around Highgarden with the ease of a woman who had spent years there. The food and the drinks were on point and the décor oscillated right between trendy and traditional. She’d offered a few pieces from the Redwyne Collection to adorn those already on Highgarden’s walls and Desmera was pleased with how they looked together. She stopped to get a drink from a waiter and then turned to look around the room, curious as to who all had attended.

Galas such as these often catered to a certain type of person, to those who had more money than sense and dressed in only the finest of couture. It always amused Desmera to no end to see what some of the more daring women turned up looking like, oftentimes more similar to peacocks than anything else. Even now, as she held a glass of something in her hand and waltzed over to her cousin, the smile on her lips was teasing. “Do you suppose the woman Grandmother’s speaking to looks more like a meringue or a macaron? I can’t decide.”

[desmera]

renly baratheon

the benefit gala february 12

@desmera​

Renly had needed to do quite a bit of somewhat creepy Internet stalking in order to get an idea of who the hell this Desmera girl Sylv kept drooling over even was. Getting a straight answer out of his girlfriend felt a little bit like, well, attempting to get a lesbian to do anything straight. Considering he could at least now pick Desmera Redwyne out of a crowd Renly wrote it off as well-intentioned research. It wasn’t as though he wanted to date Desmera. Sylva would definitely kill him if he so much as tried.

Weaving towards her through the crowd of people, Renly ran through a mental list of everything about Desmera he had learned. She had an art gallery. Good, Sylva taught art they could sit around and do that for hours. She came from a big family. Sylva had loads of family in Dorne, though Renly honestly could not remember whether or not she cared much for them. Perhaps avoid that subject. Neither of them seemed very political. Maybe just talk about Sylva, then.

As he reached her, Renly stuck out his hand and offered her a wide Baratheon smile. “Hello, you must be Desmera. I’ve heard quite a bit about you, shall we see if the talk holds up? I’ve a strong feeling it might.”

The dress Desmera wore was bespoke, a creation from one of her favorite designers, and while it accentuated her body with its cream color and assortment of beadwork, it was also quite heavy, especially for a woman as diminutive as she was. She walked slowly, yet purposefully, as she reached for a glass of the signature cocktail of the evening. She sipped slowly and when she saw a man walking toward her – a Baratheon, by the look of him – she switched hands so she could shake his with a smile of her own.

An arched brow returned his words, though Desmera would not leave him hanging for too long. She swallowed her drink and tilted her head to the side. “That I am,” she said, her voice more a drawl than anything. “And you are a Baratheon, are you not?” She wasn’t certain which one he was and, to be fair, Desmera had never been interested in athletic pursuits.

She was intrigued by the man and Desmera took another sip of her drink. “Oh you have?” she inquired, her gaze curious. “By all means, let us discover if the gossips are accurate.”

[desmera]

sylva santagar

Sylva had grown up attending U3 and attended without fail (admittedly, the first few years she and her friends had snuck their way in without legal IDs). It was held not far from her home in Spottswood, but she and her friends always insisted on camping on-site to maximize the experience, though they never ventured anywhere near the fancy furnished yurts that U3 charged so steeply for. 

She had lost her friends at some point during Wylla Manderly’s set, but couldn’t find it in herself to care. They would meet back up later no doubt, and Sylva had never been a worrier about that sort of thing. What she needed desperately was another drink, considering how hot it was and the fact she could feel her buzz wearing off. 

The VIP section was right there, and the security guard checking wristbands at the gate looked just the right amount of over it. She tacked onto the back of a group returning, and plunged her wrist bearing the regular wristband into the pocket of her little rainbow striped playsuit and pulled her phone out with the other so she looked like she didn’t want to talk. It worked, because she’d done things like this enough to know it would. Sylva snagged a drink as soon as she could see one, knowing it was only a matter of time until she was kicked out. When she turned to see who she’d intercepted it from, her lips curved into a wicked smile.

“Fancy seeing you here. You stalking me, or what?” 

She could hear the reverberations of music from the festival, though there was not one particular song that she could hear in particular. In another life, perhaps Desmera might have cut loose and danced, but in this one she had always had a certain amount of formality holding her back when she was in public. Still, it did not stop her from swaying to the beat, earrings jangling along with her.

The other woman was familiar, and it did not take long for Desmera to place her as the one she’d spoken to in the portrait gallery on Balon Greyjoy’s birthday. In the aftermath of the man’s death, Desmera had not gotten her name, or any form of contact information, and so while she was surprised to see her again, she was certainly not displeased. Her lips curved up into a smile that was much less wicked but no less filled with something she couldn’t yet quite define.

“I don’t have the need to stalk anyone,” she drawled, her lips twitching at the corners as she reached for a fresh drink from a passing waiter. Desmera took a heavy sip from it, her first of the day, and as her eyes glanced over the other woman. Her head tilted to the side. “But I find myself, nearly two months later, waiting for your name.” Lips lifted into a soft smirk and Desmera’s fingers tapped on her glass to the sounds of the music.

[desmera]

☎ (sylv)

NAME:

sylva santagar

RINGTONE:

standard

PICTURE:

LAST TEXT RECEIVED:

I’ll sleep when I’m dead.

LAST TEXT SENT:

Did you actually send me a text at 4 in the morning? When do you sleep?

[desmera]

☎

NAME:

rose number three

RINGTONE:

standard

PICTURE:

LAST TEXT RECEIVED:

tell willas that painting you’re lending him went up in a house fire. it’s hideous.

LAST TEXT SENT:

Don’t be dramatic. Besides, it’s one of the foremost pieces of surrealism in Westeros, regardless of its lack of aesthetic appeal, and is stored between bulletproof/fireproof glass. The best I can do is pretend it got lost in storage.

[desmera]

☎

NAME:

rose number one

RINGTONE:

standard

PICTURE:

LAST TEXT RECEIVED:

Is the Hightower portrait still on loan? I was hoping to have it hanging at Highgarden for Loras’ benefit gala.

LAST TEXT SENT:

It’s on loan until the end of January. I’ll have my assistant earmark it for Highgarden for a month after that.

[desmera]

 February 20, 2020 U3 Music Festival; Dorne [ Day One ] @leopardsylva​

Not once since she had turned sixteen had Desmera Redwyne missed U3 – the music festival held in Dorne each February. The first time she’d attended, she’d been tagging along with her brothers and their cousins but as she’d grown older and her businesses had grown, too, she’d begun attending on her own, enjoying both the music and the fully furnished yurts that were often reserved nearly a year in advance. She stood in hers and looked in the mirror, her lips twisting as she appraised herself.

Every single piece of clothing that she wore had been perfectly curated, from the white lace shorts that fell short on her toned thighs to the cropped peacock blue tank that hit in the middle of her ribcage. She wore a sheer open cardigan over her clothing with a complementary floral print and the gladiator sandals on her feet showed off the fresh pedicure she’d received just the morning before. Her hair was curled at the ends and her makeup and accessories were flawless.

Satisfied, Desmera grabbed a small purse that she threw over her body before she walked toward the VIP area, only marginally annoyed by the wristband she had to wear signifying her as one. As she reached for a drink on a tray, however, she noticed too late that someone else was reaching for it as well. “Go ahead,” she said, her voice level. “I’ll get another.”

[desmera]

eyeblogaboutnothin‌:

[desmera]

margaery tyrell

“If you wake her it’ll be you that she’s browbeating.” Margaery’s tone was lighter than it should have been, but there was a kind of relief in the jokes she was able to share with her cousin. Their night had plummeted into despair, but a familial presence was a welcome distraction from all of it. Even through the grief, it was welcome to have something to smile about.

“You’re not wrong,” Margaery shook her head at the thought, knowing that even with its faults, she’d be unsurprised to find herself back in the capital one day, in a far more permanent situation. But that wasn’t something that was public, not even to Desmera. “How lucky they are, to have avoided this whole mess.” Still, Margaery was grateful to have her own brothers nearby. She was sure she’d be in a fit of worry if they weren’t easily found, and could only imagine that the feeling would be mutual. “You would think it would be easier to release those they’ve deemed unrelated to the case. Those of us who don’t know anything can’t be much help just taking up space.”

“Well we certainly can’t have that,” she responded, one side of her mouth lifting into a half-smile. Desmera exhaled slowly, her fingers toying with her skirt. “She’ll likely browbeat Military Intelligence tomorrow anyway. For keeping all of us here.” Desmera shrugged one shoulder, wondering if it had been silly for their entire family to be in one place where someone could have harmed them. She chose not to mention that to Margaery, however, not wanting to cause her cousin even more upset.

An arched brow was her response to her cousin’s comment and Desmera could only hope that she would be back home soon, to the soothing sounds of silence in the vineyard and the smell of icy air that would permeate the Reach. “They are that. I’m certain they’ll wake up tomorrow and have not a clue what has happened.” Though Desmera found her brothers bumbling on occasion, she truly loved them; they had always been her protectors. “But they don’t know if we’re unrelated to the case or not. I believe that’s the problem. Everyone is a suspect. Rather boring, isn’t it?”

[desmera]

[text] Can’t talk now.. too busy eating ice cream and watching House Hunters International.

to rose number three: i don’t know what to be more horrified at.

to rose number three: the fact that you didn’t take my call or the fact that you’re watching that travesty of a show.

to rose number three: you know it’s all fake, don’t you?

[desmera]

[text] Im not drunk eveyone is just blurry (from sylva)

to sylva: if you say so, but i assure you the dictionary definition of drunk likely includes a mention of blurred vision.

to sylva: shall i send a car? or will that be too blurry for you to see?

[desmera]

[text] I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry please just pick up the phone.

to rose number one: you’ve reached the answering service of desmera redwyne.

to rose number one: she has no desire to converse with cousins who miss lunch dates and make her look /foolish/ in front of the public for over an hour.

to rose number one: try again tomorrow.