BLOOMING

beth cassel | dancewithlionshq

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tybolt-lion‌:

“The greatest lie that anyone was ever able to sell was the idea that somehow, a trade could only work for one person. The beauty of most trades is that I get what I want, and make available what I have surplus of, and you get what you want… and you only have to make available what you have surplus of!” Tybolt’s toothy grin broke across his face following the statement on the nature of trade. It was a topic he was acutely aware of and if his time helping manage his family’s wealth had taught him anything, it was to always understand the win conditions before playing the game. If you’re losing don’t just change your tactics. Change the game.

Leaning towards the other, he let the smile widen even further. “That’s the beauty of having variable win conditions. What matters most importantly to you at the moment might not matter as much to me at the moment.” The explanations and the discussions of the economics of the land were always something that brought warmth to Tybolt’s heart. Now, to finally assess where his objectives should lie. “So… what are the things that matter most to you?

She wasn't entirely sure how she had gotten in this situation. One moment, she'd been stumbling through the halls. The next, she was getting coaxed into the Great Hall by the sound of chatter. Somehow now, she was sat across from Tybolt Lannister. The young Lion was passionately going off about trading. And Beth, his partner in conversation, wasn't sure how they got on the topic - she wasn't even sure how they began to speak. He seemed plenty of outgoing, chatting away and telling her all he had to know about the subject.

She sat there, smiling softly, gentle gaze locked on the golden-haired man as he leaned on the table. These southerners were quite energetic, she found herself thinking, perhaps all the heat down here got to their heads. It was only the kids in Winterfell that seemed to hold such excitement about their passions now. The cold had yet to seep its way into their bones; they had yet to be exposed to it long enough for it to steal away all their childish ideas. She actually hadn't expected him to turn the light on her; after all, she was a nobody, and it was quite clear she had no idea what she was doing in this place. Eyes darting every which way, taking in the skulls of dragons with a look of awe and longing. She knew she stood out like a sore thumb with the furs on her shoulders, too. The heat got to her with them on, but she was too proud to take them off.

"Oh, Uhm..." She blinked a few times, laughing almost nervously as she adjusted herself in her seat, mauled the question posed to her over and over. "What matters most to me?" The problem is repeated, and the dainty girl leaned against the table a little herself, eyes going downcast to where her hands sat folded there. "I'm not sure, frankly. My family, obviously. My father is all I have in this world... Winterfell, because it is my home. The success of the Stark's, because they have treated me kindly..." Her eyebrows scrunched slightly, the effort to think about what truly mattered to her most almost too much. "Love. I haven't stumbled upon it, not truly, but... It is what makes the world worth living, isn't it? If it came down just to political standings and money..." A laugh fell from pink lips. "Then, I have no reason to be alive."

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when: mid day where: the dragonpit with: anyone!!!!

When she was young, her father told her tales of beast so big they made humans look like ants. Creatures with withs and tails so big one swipe could take out all of Winterfell. Animals of fire, he called them. Dragons, the very creatures their monarchs were related to, and as a kid, she wondered if their Targaryen rulers were literal blood of the dragon. Could they communicate? Were Targaryen's descendants of dragons? Her questions, she supposed, would never honestly be answered. Perhaps they wouldn't tell her the truth, either way. Let people believe they were kin to the dragon; it would grant them power. Let people find they weren't; it made people think of them as less of a threat.

Dragons, though. She always had an interest in them. When she found that they no longer lived, that the last ones were weak and sick and no bigger than dogs, her heart had broken. All dreams of seeing them in person crumbled, Beth was left with nothing but the drawings she created of them when she was lonely, bored: dreaming. And then that fateful day came when word of Princess Daenerys bringing Dragons back to life made it to the North. She could remember the excitement that day, the pure delight that began burning in her veins. One day, it would be destined that the  Dragons and their mother would return to Westeros, and one day, she would get to see them flying overhead. She knew it.

When she set foot in Kings Landing, she knew there were places she wanted to see immediately: the Red Keep, the Great Hall, the Godswood, the Dragonpit... And now here she stood before the ruins, a place she never thought she'd ever get to see. Beth felt the magic when she stood there, the greatness that resonated off those great stones, stones that once held beasts that were considered untameable. How she wished she could have seen this place in its prime, standing, entirely intact, with the roars of the marvelous creatures bouncing around inside it. For a moment, her heart ached; perhaps this wasn't the life she was meant to live; so far, she had done nothing with it. But that being said, if she did walk the earth at the same time as the ancient dragons, what would she have done with it then?

The answer was nothing. She would have made no name for herself then, either. After all, she did not come from Nobility. She wasn't a Stark, a Lannister, a Targaryen... Held no high name, no titles, no lands, no castles. And she wouldn't have, back then, either. A nobody among legends.

Slowly, she climbed her way through the debris until she could sit atop a giant fallen stone, there, she set her satchel aside and withdrew from it the paper she had brought for her drawings, and began to create something she wished would be true. She drew a reimagined Dragonpit, a glorious creature sat in the middle of it, neck bent down towards the ground. There, where the beast craned its neck forward, she began to draw the silhouette of a girl. A girl she wanted to be.

She hadn't noticed anyone approaching, caught in the whirlwind of her own imagination until she heard the footsteps. Cautious eyes raised to look upon who was approaching, but from her spot, she could only see the faint outline of a body.

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where: the tower of the hand when: early night with: @jontxrgxryxn​

Growing up, Beth dreamed of leaving Winterfell. Not because she hated it, or because she wanted away from the cold, Beth just wanted to see the things she read about in person. She wanted to explore, adventure, travel. See everything the world had for her to see, and then some. Even as a child, she was eager and curious about the world beyond what she knew it to be. Her father viewed it as foolish, couldn't comprehend why she wanted to leave at all if she wasn't sick or bored of her home. She never could understand it herself, not really. It made sense, but she couldn't begin to explain how it did. She just felt that way.

So when she had the chance to flee to Kings Landing, she took it excitedly. The entire way from her home to the foreign city, she was vibrating with her pure excitement. Terrible, she knew, because someone had died, and it was never a good thing when someone died. But yet here she was: happy. Excited, even. She couldn't contain herself either, once inside the city limits. As soon as she discovered they were officially in Kings Landing, her eyes strayed everywhere. She looked at everything. Took in the sights and the different way things here worked, compared to Winterfell. A dark contrast between the two. She could see it clear as day now. Even with Winterfell's deathly coldness, she would settle for that over Kings Landing any day. Luckily, she would get to go home when she was done here.

She began truly exploring once at the Red Keep. She wandered through hall after hall for hours on end, looking at different slight decor and paints, banners hung effortlessly from the ceiling, the flashing faces of the dragon emblem and the lion, clashing together. Ironic that the two hardheaded creatures would become married, she often found herself thinking. Even now, Beth found it almost... Hard to believe that the King and Queen got along well enough, they could rule alongside each other. The thought baffled her. Not only because of the rumors of the two houses, how their members are meant to act like; the pride but because she had terrible, terrible things about the Lannisters. They sounded like a foul family, one that she didn't want to be involved with. The idea of one of them holding more power than necessary made even Beth queezy.

She hadn't noticed when she had gotten lost. She'd been too distracted by her thoughts and the decorations. Always an easy girl to distract, she was. Lucky for her, she had a good sense of memory. She was sure that she'd remember him way back by the things handing on the walls and the scenery in general. But as she began tracing her steps, she realized she didn't recognize any of it: she was actually, entirely lost.  So she just began wandering more and more until she could feel herself getting deeper into the castle: a nagging feeling settled deep in her belly that she wasn't meant to be there, wasn't meant to be wherever it was she was. She prayed no one found her.

But when she heard footsteps and turned, found the face of the Prince himself, a familiar structure with a puppy dog face, shaggy hair to match. Jon Targaryen was no stranger, but she still didn't know him either. She had seen him at Winterfell, had seen him running about with the Stark's. Knew that he was their cousin, and knew that he wasn't a terrible, stuck up brat. Hopefully, the things she had heard were right, or at the very least, he would be considerate. "Oh, My Lord. Thank goodness, I fear I might be lost." A nervous laugh fell from pink lips as she turned to take a few steps towards his approaching form. "I was exploring, and I thought I could remember the way back, but I think it just made it all worse."

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when: red keep when: night time with: @draqcn

Beth was sheltered, she was kept in Winterfell where her father held a respectful position, and she never really gave anyone any reason to say much to her. Polite, kind, really, she was the ideal daughter in the eyes of most, the perfect little Lady. She had never ventured out of Winterfell, some small part of her feared she would die if she ever left, knowing the world was not the same out there as it was in the comfort of her home, where she knew how everything worked, knew who almost everyone was. Where she didn't need to be on her toes, afraid. Now, she was miles away from her home, surrounded by intimidating people she'd never met in her life. Ones she knew were most likely capable of terrible, terrible things she couldn't even begin to imagine. Part of her feared her Gods weren't going to hear her out here. The Godswood at the Red Keeps almost pitiful in comparison to the magical appearing one nestled in Winterfell. One she was familiar with visiting, where her mother's spirit would soothe any aches in her mind and heart.

Apparently, Beth had trouble getting to sleep when she wasn't in her own bed. She lacked majorly in the friend department, no other ladies were close enough for her to have ventured to their home for the night. No, Beth never experienced much of the life of friendships. So this would also be the first time away from home: already, it wasn't going well. One day in and now, Beth found herself wandering the halls in the middle of the night, while the world around her soundly slept. She'd gotten herself lost at one point, now she looked at the strange walls, decorations that she hadn't seen at all in the night. She hoped she was allowed wherever it was she was, too, didn't want any trouble. She knew it wouldn't be as simple as it would be if she were home - no, Winterfell and Kings Landing had nothing in common.

When she heard footsteps echoing out of rhythm with her own, her petite body twisted to look behind her. It was then she found herself rooted where she was, staring wide-eyed as the picture of perfection walked towards her. She had heard stories many, many times about the Targaryens, as their ruler's people gossiped a lot.  One thing everyone would say, no matter which one spoke to, was that they were beautiful beyond words, and now standing before one of them, Beth felt her breath being ripped out of her chest. How true it was, she found herself thinking. The white-blonde hair swayed with the woman's movements, elegant and quick, her features perfectly carved stone, artwork for the world to feel grateful to witness. Daenerys Targaryen, the Princess. She wasn't much older than Beth herself, one reason the young northerner knew her instantly, impossible to mistake such a glorious creature.

The stories that Beth had both heard and read about the Targaryens were always dramatic, elegant, charming, magical. As a child, she remembered wishing she was one of them. Dreaming of riding on the back of a Dragon, being brave and ballsy enough to say whatever crossed her mind, having the power and knowing she had the power to hiss at men who dared to look at her as if she was nothing less than a breeding cow. How she prayed, she could've traded in her red hair for white, her shy existence for one of brazen confidence. Cursed, she continued to be, destined to be the quiet girl unable to say what crossed her thoughts, bounds to always be seen as that perfect wife. Even if part of her, the more significant part of her, yearned to be a wife, it did not mean she wanted to be viewed as someone who was just meant to be barefoot and pregnant.

She was nothing like the legend walking towards her, a storm in every sense of the world. Beth could feel it, as she always could with people, the closer she got. Suffocating almost, the intensity that surrounded the Princess. She longed to be like that though, admired her confidence, the storm that whispered in her ear, danced in her veins. But it did not prevent the strut the woman had from putting the fear of the Gods into her, especially once she realized there was a good chance that she was not meant to be wherever it was.

Rapid blinking eyes try to stay focused on the monarch before her. "I - I'm sorry, Princess. I couldn't sleep and took a walk, and I fear I'm lost... I do hope I'm not... Overstepping any boundaries."

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where: the godswood when: early morning with: @icekraken

Excited. There was no other way to explain it: it was dark, morbid, but it was true. When news hit of Rhaella's death, the funerals announcement, Beth's body was practically vibrating from the uncontainable joy that radiated through every inch of her body, head to toe. Morbid, yes, for her to be so excited for the death of someone so important, but it was something she couldn't fight. Throughout her full life, she had dreamed countless dreams of leaving Winterfell, feeling the warmth on her skin for more than a second, seeing all the things that could grow where the earth never went cold, where nothing died. She longed to see the sands of Dorne, but her father had no interest in leaving, and until now, she had no reason either. Sure, Kings Landing was not the lavish warmth of Dorne, nor would it have the beautiful, passionate Dornishmen, but it was something. It was somewhere - whether love laid there or not, she was yet to find out, but eager to do so she was.

It wasn't to say the news of the woman's death made her happy, because that part made her quite sad. Death always did: Beth felt everything so strongly; most of the time, it was for the worst. When those around her thought sadness, Beth felt it like an unbearable weight pushing her on the ground, in the dirt. When it became bad enough, she feared she would die. Threw her back into time when her mother had passed, she still felt her father's pain sometimes. It was lighter now though  -  it was a proud pain her father had, every time he looked upon her, he would smile a sad, melancholic thing it was.  She reminded him of her, she knew that because he told her such all the time. Sometimes she loved it, found comfort in that, other times, she hated it.

No matter what, though, the excitement pooled in her veins, and eventually, it was the only thing pushing her to carry on. It was unbearably early when she arrived in Kings Landing, the sun not even peaking in the sky. With no idea what to do, where to go, an always spiritual young Cassel found herself wandering until she stood in the Godswood. It was not the same as it was in Winterfell, then again, nothing anywhere ever would be. Instead of looking at the delicate white bark and the beautiful, magical red leaves, Beth was gazing out over a river. She knew it was because the Red Keep hadn't been as ancient as all the other castles, as old as Winterfell.

In that lonely moment, overlooking the grey water, Beth let the homesick settle in her bones, let herself picture the calming feeling of being in the Godswood out home, how she could almost feel her mother sitting with her beneath the tree. And in that one, lonely moment, Beth missed Winterfell, overlooking the beauty that was traveling, the excitement she had to sightsee. Nothing but a child in unfamiliar territory, Beth lost the comfort of her mother, the warmth of familiarity. She knew no one here, she realized, and began to pray someone who she actually knew would tumble into her in the foreign city.

Gods tilted their head in the universe for a second, contemplating if the girl deserved to be as sad as she felt for that brief second, pondering the anxiety they were causing: was it necessary? The gentle eyes turned to find was a quick answer to Beth that whatever Gods existed out there, heard her prayers, and answered them. Ocean blues guide up to greet the familiar gaze of a friend; maybe foe, but definitely not all at once. A rush of relief washed over her so strong she could feel the current of the grey waters below; lucky for her, the one the Gods sent to her was bound to be good at handling murky seas.

"Theon," His name is but a laugh on pink lips, body going lax in the company of a friend. She felt no danger, no intimidation. Perhaps when they were younger, she felt bursts of intimidation: Theon was an extremely skilled man, even when he was nothing but the baby Kraken. She had envied him, back then, for his abilities too. Now she knew she could compare herself to him, and it wouldn't be laughable. Skill-wise, they stood even ground, and perhaps that's what stripped away the awkward autonomous actions that Beth usually had. As a child, she viewed him as a boy who could quickly become a man of her interest, as a woman, she regarded him a man worthy of her respect,  a good man worthy of trust. A good component. "I feared I wouldn't know anyone here. You truly are a sight for sore eyes." Her feet carried her slightly forward, away from the water, and closer to where the man stood. "I had no idea you would be here, too."

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hi everyone! my name is jane, and i started writing beth a few months ago and i have grown to love her oh so very much. fortunately for everyone, this will be the first time i’ve written her as relatively happy. but don’t be too comfortable! i live for angst, and because of that... beth is still sad, just not as sad as she normally is when i write her! i hope everyone learns to love my little bundle of joy as much as i do! please, don’t be afraid to hmu, and for those mentioned in her things... PLEASE come at me for plots! you’ll most likely get best contact with me through discord, iiimpasse#7313

OOC INFORMATION - 

Name:  jane

Age: 19

Timezone: GMT 2:00

Pronouns: she/her 

Triggers: suicide, especially involving guns.

IN CHARACTER -

Character you're applying for: beth Cassel

Face Claim: charlotte hope

List 3 or more headcanons about your character:

The Cassel's are no stranger to death: Rodrik Cassel lost all his previous daughters and all his former wives. The gods had indeed blessed him when the auburn-haired little girl took her first breath and cried her first cry. Blessed when his wife was there to take care of her, too. But all blessings came to an end when lady Eliza Cassel became ill. Beth was only 5 at the time, nothing but a child with no real concept of what death was. Lady Cassel only lasted four weeks before she died in her sleep.          i. Since losing her mother at such a young age, beth has struggled, especially with becoming close to other girls. Raised by a rough man, beth didn't really understand what it meant to be a lady, but that was what her father wanted to be, and so she did her best to do so. Determination has always driven beth headfirst into her success, and since she was determined to be the perfect lady, she was: the only one topping her in any of their sessions being lady Sansa herself, whom beth became rather close with despite the differences in age. To this very day, beth strives to be more like Sansa.       ii. Beth only has faint memories of her mother, and those memories define who beth is as a person. She recalls her mother being kind, gentle, unbearably loving - so that is who beth became; kind, gentle, unbearably caring. She could remember the sound of her mother's voice, singing soft tunes to soothe her aching heart. So she began to sing. she could remember her mother making silly little sketches whenever she had the chance, so beth began to draw.

Growing up, beth was very shy. Even as an adult, she was timid. She struggled to speak to people she wasn't used to, which made it hard for her to get used to anyone. Her father tried to push her onto the kids around her, doing his best to edge her towards the stark girls whenever she would come to watch him train the boys, urging the boys he taught to ask her to dance during any parties. She rarely accepted, but she became quickly and easily attached to the stark children; since she has grown, she had pledged herself to the family.         i. Beth had little to no friends. She mostly spent her time by herself, singing, drawing, sometimes dancing. If she wasn't doing any of those things, she was watching the boys train. Eventually, her solitude and refusal to leave when Rodrik was training, he began teaching her how to use the bow and arrow at the young age of nine. She caught on quick, and by the time she reached 13, she was a sure shot.         ii. Because of her lack of friendships, romance is something that beth is entirely clueless on. Although she's had crushes in her past: Arryk Stark, Rickon Stark, basically the whole Targaryen family (because they were beautiful: all of them), she had yet to ever experience love. She hasn't called someone hers, and she hasn't belonged to anyone before.         iii. Beth is consistently worried about the fact that she has not found someone yet: what was wrong with her, that no one wanted to love her? She did not believe she was cute, but she knew she wasn't the most terrible looking girl in Winterfell. She did everything a good lady, a good wife, should be able to do. She longs to give her father a grandchild, to have a family, to love a man, and give him a good heir. 

All growing up, beth believed that she would have her family started already by the time she was 22. But a long life of shyness has left her without anything, no husband, no babies, no home of her own. She fears she might be a failure, and that haunts her daily. She does her best to hide it, though. No one wants a sad wife.         i. Instead of having a husband and a baby by the age of 22, Beth Cassel was a sure-shot. She competed against others, won most of the medals, too. She often accompanied lord Arryk Stark on hunting trips, and in any case of battle, she would go with them. Because of her love of archery, she grew close with Theon Greyjoy. The two became friendly but competitive. Beth doesn't like that she isn't as good as him: she aspires to be so. 

CHARACTER STATS -

birth year: 285 ac

marital status:  single

sexuality:  heterosexual

pronouns / gender: female, she/her

moral alignment: lawful good

sun sign:  Sagittarius 

positive traits: loving, loyal, understanding, cooperative, determined

negative traits: timid, naive, insecure,  skeptical, (too) trusting.

CHARACTER HISTORY / BRIEF DESCRIPTION:

Beth Cassel is the only living daughter of Ser Rodrik Cassel and Eliza Cassel and is nothing but a rose blossoming in the snow. She was born in Winterfell in the middle of a snowstorm in 285 AC, known as the spark of life in the middle of all that death. Since she was born, she's had a love for the snow, for Winterfell, for arts of all kind. Although she does her best to talk and interact with everyone who crosses her path and leave them feeling better than they had before they met her, she's shy and has few friends, though she wants that to change.