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@morewoe
words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.
a dependent multimuse for westeroslive loved by maddi
myranda karstark, lady of karhold, alive
intro − bio − interactions − pinterest
amos tully, heir of riverrun, alive
intro − bio − interactions − pinterest
gysella harlaw lannister, wife of the ruling lord of casterly rock, alive
intro − bio − interactions − pinterest
gwayne needed fresh air after the events of last night. perhaps he had drunk too much wine or simply pushed himself too much. social events were always draining. but to wake up in another's room? that was unheard of for him. what was he even thinking last night? as he strolled through the castle's courtyard he could feel eyes upon him. it was normal for him to have some, but these eyes felt different. he continued to walk to see how far they would follow. "let's play a game shall we?"
"A game? What fun." Amos had left the festivities early, when he could not stand the weight of his own smile much longer, and patience wore thin. He had not slept, instead staring at his ceiling until the early hours of the morning, wishing he was home. The only cure for homesickness, he had found, was to find something entirely different, that held no chance of sparking morose thoughts of Riverrun, which was how he found himself in the gardens, a spring in his step. They were beautiful, and blooming, and he even considered taking a few cuttings back to his room to brighten the space. "You set the rules, Lord Hightower."
" i'm — i'm not entirley sure that's what lord codd meant , " tytos coughed into his fist , hoping the other caught on . the lord of driftmark had resorted to staring at the ground to avoid bursting into laughter “ just smile and and they will surely walk away . ”
𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 : @steelfyre , @traegedys , @heavnle + accepting 0/2 responses
"I do not think us to be so lucky, my Lord. Do I dare feign a swooning episode, if only to save us further anguish? I was once told I had a future with the mummers, if I so wished." His face is carefully neutral, mouth barely moving as words passed lips. "I would make such sacrifice, if necessary."
𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗶 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋 ›› @crimsonsbled , @divineviclence , @heavnle , @ichorsveined + accepting 0/2 replies
the sun's brightness made his head pound harder - hardly an uncommon feeling; consequences of filling his goblet with wine too many times forgotten when the excitement of the next celebration took hold of him. half-lidded eyes only opened when a shadow covered him. ❝ good morrow, my liege. did you also come to break your fast while taking in the morning light? ❞ time leaned closer to midday than dawn, but bash had barely been awake more than an hour.
Myranda herself had been awake for hours, curled in a windowsill and watching as the sun rose, too cautious to wander the halls, too awake to lie in expensive sheets and stare at the ceiling, only venturing out of her room once the sound of footsteps past her door had become a more common occurrence. As the moon turned, she found herself sleeping less and less, and so far from home was satisfied with the couple of hours snatched while music still played, and last of the stragglers left the hall. "I did come seeking... I cannot quite remember. Perhaps food is a good idea." One could not survive on the cakes served the previous evening alone.
𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗶 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋 ›› @traegedys , @luvburn + accepting 0/3 replies
charcoal moved quickly across the page, trying to immortalize the wonders of last night's celebration before a haze descended upon memory. myrcella's hand stilled. she studied the drawing - something was off but she couldn't yet see it. dark hues looked up, intending to glance around, but maiden started with a gasp. ❝ oh! i didn't hear you approach! ❞ far too engrossed in her art.
"I did not mean to startle you, my lady." Amos bows head in apology, but soon dark eyes rise, leaning forward to try and catch a glimpse of page. "What muse has caught your fancy, if you do not mind my asking? I find it endlessly interesting, to watch as something springs from nothing. A blank page becoming art." No matter how far out of the Riverlands, Tully does not forget his words. Duty, to the people of his region, and it is that which keeps his eye on doors, and windows, and listening to the low din of castle bustling to life. “Or you could jsut as easily tell me to mind my own business.”
𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗶 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋 ›› @traegedys , @luvburn + accepting 0/3 replies
❝ the markets back home are even larger. ❞ tone was like a gentle wave, conveying a simple observation, judgement well concealed. nereid found the differences made her miss braavos' shores even more; the smell of salt and sea, untouched by the stench king's landing possessed, and the vibrancy of the markets, new trinkets from all across the known world to find each day.
"I did once find myself in Bravos as a young man, wandering a market with half a mastery of a tongue that sounds different when so alive, than practiced." It was many moons, since Amos had ever felt so young, so alone. It had been exhilarating, in the way that travel always was, and over too quickly, in the way good things always were. "In fact..." He pulls at a chain, a mermaid pendant coming free of his layers. "This was one of the many, many things that made the journey home with me. Your home is beautiful, my lady."
she studies the pieces before her, but her thoughts are far away: out on the water, in the seas she has come to know so well, yearning for the chance to return to them. the light reflects off the polished board, casting shadows upon it. ariadne leans back in her chair, fingers tracing the edge of her cup absentmindedly, and when her companion speaks, her attention returns to the game. she has never much liked to lose. ❝ peaceful, ❞ she echoes, a pale brow lifting. her lips are not quite curved, yet they still manage to communicate faint amusement, even as she shifts to move one of her elephants with deliberate slowness. ❝ perhaps you are right. the morning after a celebration does have its peculiar sort of charm, i suppose. it’s quiet — like the calm before a storm. ❞ the memory of the targaryens’ new babe lingers in her mind. her birth marks the arrival of a new heir, a new piece added to the board, to the game of thrones some like to play. not that she would care. lifting her cup, she takes a short sip of its contents before speaking once more. ❝ what did you make of the feast last night, gysella? ❞
She wants to focus on the board. She wants to tip the board like a petulant child. In each hand, she wars between choices, a soul constantly in flux, and never quite settling on a one side or the other. Ariadne never caused her any harm, but Gysella had never held the same softness that others did towards innocents. She would drag the whole Greyjoy line to the bottom of the sea, just to see Dalton drown. But that was what was expected of her, and she hated nothing more than to be reliable. So she smiles, a sharp-edged blade, moves as quick as when she wilded steel instead of gold. She pushes elephant to the side, replaces it with dragon. "It was beautiful, as is befitting a new princess. One rarely ever finds fault with the celebration, but more the conduct of those within it. And you, Lady Ariadne? Did you enjoy yourself?" She pauses. "Do you find the court welcoming, despite the vicious rumours? I did worry perhaps that none of the Iron Islands would make the trek, for such a cold welcome." Worry, hope, two sides of the same coin. She had never been known to be an honest sort of woman. "I daresay few of the court wish to be reminded of storms, on the heels of a night so happy."
cranium pounds from the weight of his own actions, thoughts a blur as he lets out a low chuckle. ❝ peaceful, yes. save for the annoyance of the birds chirping. ❞ a night spent beyond his chambers in a place of scandal sees him forcing consciousness, garments still askew as he'd stumbled his way into the courtyard only to meet the lady lannister. now, as he nurses his first chalice of arbor wine ( this, his long practiced cure to what ails - a drink to stave off dealing with the symptoms of sobriety for a day longer ), he can only reach lazily to move his own piece. ❝ surely you enjoyed the celebration, lady lannister? ❞
"It is only their nature. You cannot deny them that." Lips curl into the barest hint of smile, before she grips piece in hand. Not that she thought herself above such revelries, instead she envied the safety one must feel in self to become inebriated in a court that was so tempestuous. But, as birds could not be blamed for their early morning song, neither could a noble for indulgence in offered celebration. It was only their natures, after all. Or they wouldn't be there at all. "I shall never deny myself the small pleasure of dressing lavishly, and spending the night celebrating at someone else's cost. And I am happy for the prince and princess." And for the stability a trueborn heir gave the crown, after what was done to secure the marriage. “I do take it you enjoyed yourself too, my lord.”
𝒔𝒆𝒎𝒊 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 ╱ for @soulstolcn, @crimsonsbled, @steelfyre, @morewoe + 0/2 taken spots.
raya's hands find the mane of the stable's calmest horse, whispering words of understanding ━━ it is restless, just like she is, especially after such a celebration. there is a small smile on their lips as the sound of clashing blades echoes behind the northern liege. then, a new presence. ❝ what called to you, my liege? ❞ raya starts, turning slightly to face the other noble. for a heartbeat, her eyes look at the training guards before returning to the other's gaze. ❝ the horses or the loud display of... valour? ❞
"Kin." The word is simple, and dropped from lips without fanfare, in the same way Myranda appeared. Now, with the celebration safely behind her, she is back in items of comfort, items that do not easily turn heads or garner attention, and it is exactly the way she prefers. She slipped into the stables near unnoticed. "Though I do understand the training to be necessary, something about the clanging of steel sets my nerves off. It feels... Heavy. Still, I will take that and a familiar face over strangers in the parlours. I hope you do not mind my intrusion."
Cyvasse kept her still during her formative years, one of the few things that could actually manage such a feat, much to her father's chagrin and relief. It meant he could corral her long enough to settle and focus on something other than ruffling every feather in Blackhaven, but it also meant he too remained seated across from her until she played enough games to allow the restlessness to seep in again. Time afforded her skill and patience, something she showed now even as a headache thundered behind her eyes. Her own jug of water mirrored Gysella's, currently abandoned in favor of focus but no less drained.
"Mm," she hummed in response, light eyes flitting around the board as she mapped her options. Orianne had been one of those nobles, though thankfully she'd managed to escape the evening without a currently visible bruise or bite. Contrary to her opponent and perhaps surprising given her demeanor, she moved her pieces precisely and with great forethought, eventually moving a lapis piece after great consideration. "I certainly don't regret the cups--" she said, then winced at the sharp sound of a distant barking dog. "--for the most part," she amended, then sighed and straightened. "An invitation to a gala at the keep is never dull, however."
"I great many people seemed to find ways to make it interesting." She had been sober enough to watch couples try oh so hard to be subtle, to fail miserably. Her hand lingered over her trebuchet, but soon she grasped the crossbowmen instead, nudging them further back. "And I am sure it does not end there. I, for one, greatly appreciate the uptick in salacious rumours after every celebration." She may believe little and less of what reached her ears, but it was fun nonetheless, and so little brought her joy some days. She would not begrudge happiness, wherever it was found.
"It was certainly one of the most... Straightforward events I have had the pleasure of attending." No one died, no one was attacked, weapons remained in rooms and in scabbards. Ripples sent forth in self could not be blamed on the crown, as much as she wished that the queen had taken the rumours to heart and banned the Ironborn from court. Though, would they include her? Had she played nice for long enough, wrapped herself int he silks, put the mask in place in a way that could convince she had no salt in her veins, that they ran gold like the veins under Casterly Rock? Or would she forever be a maiden of the waves, cursed by the name she was born to, the name she had abandoned at the first good opportunity?
with fluttering lashes against soymilk skin, she studies the cyvasse board ⸺ too long, foolish girl that has yet to learn the rules of the game. " i don't regret my cups from last night, but i do regret agreeing to play this game. " fingers wrap around a piece, dropping it somewhere only a rookie would place - no strategy only praying on dumb luck. " i'm not very good at it, " she responds meekly, hair tucked behind ear as nymph winces at own moves - belated reaction at the action she chose on the board. " i shouldn't have done that. " a muttering, deliberately loud enough to be heard but not too much.
"I will not insult your intelligence by going easy on you, my lady. Give it time, and the skill will develop." She moves her elephant, a piece she never seems to regret sacrificing, her dragon held back behind a river. There was no instinct in Gysella to ease up, even in friendly competition. To do such was a disrespect to partner, and she had no reason to do such. "Cyvasse is a game of priorities, above all else. Do you prioritise your safety, or your conquest? Will you risk all for reward, or do you think remaining protected is the goal?" It is not so different to the game of court, the pieces moving around, lines being drawn and redrawn. Gysella had proved herself decent at both, with her risky maneuvers.
(@steelfyre + @traegedys + open for 0/4)
Amos had a stack of letters in his hand, each and every one in need of a serious reply, one that took time to think through, but he could not focus in the quiet of his rooms, distracted by each footstep walking past, by voices floating up to his open window. Or maybe he was just putting it off. Regardless, with a quill and ink in his other hand, he sought a quiet corner, one where he was close enough to other people to inspire work, lest they think he was simply staring into nothing. The library, perhaps. He found an unoccupied desk, placed the letters down, but the ink slipped from his grip at the last second, splattering over the blank paper. "Shit." He hissed through his teeth, first reaction to try and wipe it away but leaving a trail of black across both the paper and his thumb. "I'm not going all the way back tommy room for fresh paper. Perhaps this is a sign that no work should be achieved today."
(@sacrificeds + @eclipt1cs + @traegedys + open for 0/3)
"Your move, my liege." She had played more games of cyvasse in the past few years than she thought possible, and she always started the sane. Aggressive, and ruthless, willing to sacrifice any piece for the greater good. A greater reliance on water than was probably advisable. She had a tinge of a headache behind her eyes, hence the jug of water on the table next to her, one she was steadily making her way through. "The morning after a celebration is always so peaceful. Never a better time for a game or two, while half the castle lays abed and regrets half the cups they downed." Never mind the fact that she had been that noble more than once or twice, she judged freely and with no shame in her hypocrisy.
(@crimsonsbled + @steelfyre + @grdnwood + open for 0/3)
"What do we do with it now?" Myranda had kept her little silver egg, because to throw away a gift from the crown seemed ill-advised, but she didn't know what else to do. It was light in her hands, barely a weight at all now empty. The butterfly had startled her, she'd nearly dropped it, and now she almost wished she had. That would have made the decision for her. "I suppose store a trinket in there?" Now wrapped back in her dark, heavy fabrics, she felt like she had more substance to herself, felt stronger. She met conversation partner's eyes, back an iron rod in her seat. "I never did wish for an egg of my own. Leave that to those born to it."
while beric never would turn down a good gathering, even he had become a bit disoriented amongst the hustle of it all. after long losing count of all whom he had shared some chatter with, the heir of blackhaven had only begun to glance around for a new conversation buddy when it seemed to have found him instead. a gentle smile was offered, the familiar face bringing some surprising comfort. alas, the near panic on lord amos' face had beric placing a hand upon the other's shoulder to offer a light squeeze. “relax, my friend. i saw lady arushi not too long ago,” he reassured, the squeeze being replaced by a light, hopefully comforting pat. “i am sure she and the others are perfectly well behaved and not at all finding themselves in precarious situations.” a playful tone matched the grin that followed.
A port in a storm. That is what friend becomes, in the low chatter of voices that blend in to become rain against windows, when the sound of shoes on dance floor becomes bare feet on stone, running from terror. "Thank you." Whether truth or convincing lie, Amos does not care. His worries are ones beyond reason, knowing that the danger lay far behind them, and yet was an ever-present cloud over Riverrun in the year since he had last been to court. "I would forgive any poorly thought out actions tonight, as long as all fish remain in the pond. On my life, I cannot imagine all this, and the added responsibility of being ruling lord. For entirely selfish reasons, I hope my father lives another hundred years." He laughs, and leans into the touch, and lets shoulders drop. "Would you join me to find a glass of wine? I had planned on remianing stone cold sober throughout the celebration, but perhaps one glass would stop me worrying like a mother hen. And I wish to hear about all you have done, since we last spoke."
a feeling of ease settled over the youngest paege whenever she was blessed with myranda's presence. worry that her words would be met with an odd look was nonexistent. ❝ i was fortunate to be able to sketch them, if you'd like to see it during our stay? ❞ she'd hoped to turn it into a painting but it hadn't been possible before having to depart for court. there'd be plenty of sights to draw here. ❝ i'm glad to hear that. there are few feelings equal to that of returning to a home that's familiar and comforting. ❞ especially after witnessing horrors. ❝ i've been well. ❞
"Oh, you must know that I would. I have not a singular artistic bone in my body, and your art looks like poetry feels." She's almost about to suggest they go now, but she would deprive no one of the splendour of the party, even if she was walking the knifes edge between enjoying herself and wanting to run. "I was loathe to leave, but the thought of reuniting with familiar faces did make quite the convincing argument. Good. I should have written. I thought about writing. I just found myself so... Busy." A lie, there was little for her to do in Karhold but wander the halls of her youth, feet falling into well worn paths, but no one wanted to hear about the same tedious day, over and over again.
girlhood is branded into her, hues embody the innocence of a fawn ⸺ doe - shaped, wide and big. noble watches other with carefulness, hanging onto every word as slow place of blinking awakens, attentiveness. " how exciting that must be - always time for a celebration. when do people have time to rule their lands, " teasingly, a siren's lullaby her voice with the slow cadence of hypnotic music. fingers pluck goblet filled with liquid from server's tray, sloshing the insides until it nearly spills all over her. " as long as there is a reason there is a celebration, " she repeats, paraphrases the essence of the ruling lady's earlier words, curt nod as corners of mouth move upward. " ah - but what life that would be, to enjoy the fruits to its fullest. "
Gysella has always been more beast that beauty, too sharp around the edges, too quick to strike, and she never feels more unwieldy in the mask she has chosen than standing next to the Lyseni noble. "Well, I cannot speak for my peers, but I manage little in my day to day. The responsibility should land to those born to it, not those married in." She waved her hand away, like she didn't report back any useful knowledge to her husband, like she wouldn't bear claws as quickly as any lion to defend the Rock. "I can only imagine. The gossip alone would keep the court fed for months, if we were not pulled a way by tedious meetings and relentless responsibility. Though you must think it would become tiring, eventually, to have nothing to balance all that abundance? How would we know to enjoy it, if not for the suffering before it? Would we forget what it is to fear, to cry, to worry?"
