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@myrcolla
ynysand
Ynys raised an eyebrow but couldn’t hold back a slight smirk. This woman spoke in curious riddles, and admittedly, she was enjoying it. “Miss something in the sky, or on land? Because it’s never easy to keep an eye on both.” She sat down on a nearby ledge, crossing her ankles, one over the other.
though she sits, myrcella prefers to hover a while longer. curious grey eyes trying to place her face. though with hundreds travelling each day it’s likely the face is new altogether. “the land to be sure. there’s far too much down here to pay thought to the stars. as pretty as they are. they don’t really do much.”
leyla-tyrell
Leyla had always kept this feeling at bay, for admitting it aloud seemed selfish; but she was grateful for Myrcella’s marriage to Gareth because it meant being closer to her cousin. Through thick and thin, they were joined at the hip, and it seemed somehow they had grown even closer upon her marriage to the King. She found it was selfish because King Gareth did not deserve her, nor would be ever be good enough for Myrcella. Leyla missed the Cella which was free, but she equally loved the Cella that became a mother and her Queen. The love in which she had for her cousin was perhaps unwavering, and it was for that reason that she smiled as well as placed a kiss upon Cella’s cheek. “You would have gone mad, I know it. And Cella, I will always be honest with you, even if it is painful because I love you. But yes, you’re being silly cousin, be quiet.” The redhead repeated, smiling so hard her nose scrunched inward and she giggled along with the bubbling happiness that she felt. “Gods be good, I know you’re right. As you so humbly stated, you are always right. Besides, any man wishing to marry me has to get through you and five older brothers first, Gods rest his soul.” The noblewoman cackled, thinking upon what hell that may be for any future husband.
At present, the Tyrell lady found herself at odds with the part of her that wished to shove her cousin into a rosebush and the other part of her itching at a laugh of her own. There had been many, many times in which Leyla had found stray twigs within her cousin’s thoughtfully placed up-do, or dirt beneath her stocks as well as a ruffled, disoriented gown that had so obviously been touched by another. Leyla was perhaps the only living soul who knew of Myrcella’s affair with Lord Dayne, and it was for this reason she did not choose the rosebush option. “If my reddened cheeks somehow delay the winter it is I who should be crowned Queen or at least compensated for my embarrassment.” Leyla shouted in protest, kicking up dirt as her boot scuffed at the ground beneath them. Her tongue stuck out like a small child, probably resembling the twins, but she gave no mind to that. She was laughing, and hearing the near cackle that left her cousin’s lips only caused her laughter to grow. Still, she sighs, shaking her head once Cella’s approached her and took a more serious tone. “I know. I should have known that, I mean I do, I just…sometimes it is hard. I do not wish to get in the way of your duties but you have always been my cousin, the ridiculous, flirty, fun loving Cella.” They joined arms once more, walking side by side through the gardens they’d both come to adore. This was where they went to talk, or at least always found themselves coming to whether it was intentional or not. “It is too late of us, surely. We must pray for years we do not have.” Leyla chuckled, giving her cousin’s shoulder a gentle nudge. “He’s rather charming when he wishes to be, and as we both know he’s easy on the eyes. A bottle of hippocras helped with the cold.” She said with a light shrug, thinking nothing of it.
It was hard to imagine any man not wishing to woo someone like Myrcella. Hearing of many tales regarding her cousin’s love life, it was safe to say Cella knew what she was doing in the bedroom. Her cousin could please a man just as well as any lady could, perhaps even better than most. So it seemed silly in her mind, that Gareth would not spend the time courting his wife. It must be due to time, children and bitterness over a enraged kingdom that did sour his mood. Leyla wished there was more she could do, truly, though she did not know how. “Gareth is a fool regardless. Time should be set aside for you, regardless of the state of the Reach.” Who could be to blame but King Gareth? Who’s fault was it that they were in shambles? Sometimes men truly were the bane of her existence, especially those in power. “Myrcella, you have been a wonderful mother to those children, never doubt that. Besides, I may or may not have been telling them horror stories of men while you’re away, I am sure they’re plenty aware of it.”
there had always been two. two versions of the same woman, both waging war on the other. fighting for the top spot. the first had always been there; the wild girl of southshield, the little lady of spring. she could both bring and halt destruction with nothing but a quirk of her lips. and the second? a mother, a queen, a daughter, a wife. responsible. for years they had battled, and it was beginning to look like neither could survive, whilst the other lived. “i am silly, it’s true, but it’s alright because i have you to remind me of it and keep me on track.” life was hard, and her marriage tested her on every level, but as long as she had the redhead at her side then anything else was manageable. myrcella’s lips twitch with amusement then, a laugh following not long after. “may the gods have mercy. but if they pass through us all then at least we’ll be certain he’s good enough.”
she’s entirely aware that to talk of her cousins own rendezvous's with such scandal is hypocritical coming from her when she had been the one to lead her down the garden path so to speak. still, those days are behind her and she gets great joy from poking fun at leyla now. “you’re absolutely right. if you can get this crown off my head then it’s all yours. being the saviour of the seven kingdoms and all.” myrcella doesn’t do much to halt her laughter at the others childish behaviour, wide grin quickly morphing into a string of gleeful giggles. leonette had done the very same just the week passed, when her mother had refused her something. good to know things didn’t change that much as they grew. “oh please do. i’m begging you, get in my way. too much work makes for a very dull queen you know?” a rather worrying smirk graces her lips then, one filled with the mischief that only leyla could bring out of her. and wandering through the rose scented gardens, getting lost in the winding path... it made for the perfect environment for wicked conversations where prying eyes would not find them. “we are living on borrowed time to be sure.” she grins, catlike grey eyes glancing across at the other, brows raised playfully. “awful. just awful. truly you’re a devil in disguise and i cannot believe you’re a relative of mine. i thought i’d taught you better.” her words are full of mirth, of course.
a smile of gratitude is tossed the others way, no matter how little it changed she appreciated the others words nonetheless. only a best friend would place her well being over that of a nation. and she loved her for it. “i don’t ask for much. fifteen minutes in the throne room would suit me fine.” the corners of her lips twitch then and oh, the queen of the reach was a wicked woman. but as much as septa’s tried to pretend otherwise, women needed intimacy as much as men did. she was just honest about hers. “then as long as you fill the gaps where i cannot they will be smart and responsible young women indeed.” myrcella concludes with a smile. it’s enough to ease her worries for now, but mothers would always fret. she supposed it came with the job.
The air felt suffocating within the castle walls. He couldn’t fathom why, only that perhaps the memories of his father began to flood his thoughts and like a poison., the grief began to set in. He had hardly received a chance to say goodbye to the late lord Redfort as their last conversation with one another had cut short due to his father’s withering condition. Neither had said ‘I love you,’ for the words were not needed. Instead they looked upon one another and smiled, and his father said, ‘You are a man now so be it. And keep her around.’ Keep her around. Without hearing her name he knew his father spoke of his healer, Jana, the woman Aidan had somehow fallen madly in love with.
Such thoughts plagued him as he’d wandered through the castle halls, enough to make his lungs constrict and the air knock out of him. He grasped the castle walls for support as he breathed in deeply, releasing it once he found himself deep within the courtyard just behind the castle. It took was like a maze, almost, with many twists and turns, he found himself standing before another that he had not expected to find. “Oh you’ll have to excuse me, I needed a bit of fresh air. I didn’t think anyone else was here.” The commander apologized quickly, though he didn’t leave.
“well the air is most certainly fresh.” no matter what anyone said, anything north of harrenhal was the north to her. and the vale certainly fell under that definition. as fascinating as new places were, she was always glad to find her way back to her own bed in the end. the cold was exciting, but she had always been drawn to warmth.
still, myrcella’s brows draw together in concern. a mothers eyes narrowing on the bent over man with whom she had become fast friends. the queen waves a dismissive hand then, her gentle smile finding it’s way to her lips to reassure the other. “you needn’t apologise to me. i’m the one encroaching on your territory now.” a pause as she wanders closer, though careful not to invade the space too much. “are you feeling quite right?”
i have had the BUSIEST weekend so i’ll get to the replies i have tomorrow after work! i believe i owe ynys, desmond and leyla but tumblr is being a baby and my activity is losing a lot so if i’ve missed you out let me know!
balianryswell
Indeed he was suited for the role played, unfamiliar with any other. “I would not know, your grace. Such a feat I have not ever tried” the lord responded with a slight smirk though in earnest, not presuming to be more than the swordsman he was as he knew nothing of the skills and wit required in that other area. His offer was refused and he could not help but think it was rather predictable that the King of the Reach would feel so strongly against the notion of his wife wielding a sword. “I will not tell if you won’t” the sword sword stated somewhat carelessly, thinking little or not at all about saying that. Someone smarter and more in tune with rules of propriety would have remained silent. Fortunately, Balian Ryswell was not such a man, though some would say unfortunately he was not. “Quite an unexpected gift, your grace”. Sailing was extremely foreign for him. The sword sword had hardly set foot on a ship, such instances could probably be counted with the fingers of a single hand. “So you were rather good at it, but was it also something you enjoyed?” he went ahead to ask her, curious about this little surprising detail about the queen.
a woman confined to a golden cage would always be tempted by freedom and the things it came with. to wield a sword, even if only ever in a training environment, offered a new and thrilling challenge. “then perhaps,” she begins, the gentle arch of her brow raising questioningly as her grey hues turn contemplative. “we can trade our skills. you could teach me how to handle steel in private, and i could be a diplomatic tutor of sorts. sworn sword or not, it’s always a useful talent to have on hand.” still there’s something hesitant about her and it doesn’t take long for doubt to set in. a crafted smile, full of teasing, pulling at her lips. “of course, a ridiculous notion. i only jest.”
as the queen wandered, hands just skimming the rose lined paths she’d memorised so long ago, her face turns inquisitive. it was not often people took interest in things she did once upon a time. not without ulterior motives. “it was. i should say salt water is in my blood, i was a natural.” myrcella’s lips purse thoughtfully for a moment. “i loved it. but it has been many, many years since i last set sail without men to tie ropes for me.”
dcyne
He wasn’t sure what would be of his days in Highgarden this time over. The King of the Reach believes Criston to be a friend but in the Reach and almost everywhere in the world, a Queen is not shared. He dreaded the long days ahead of him, playing war with a man and his paper sword. There was of course the part of him that wanted for no more, as he would sit through a lifetime of Gareth’s pointless speeches if it meant catching a glimpse of his favourtie ringlets bouncing through the lush green gardens. Alas, the notion was quick to pass for he smell of guilt, thrill and fear were all so pungent.
He had seen thay look in her eyes before, though he couldn’t remember what it mean. Whatever it was, he cared little to wound his ego. Criston wanted nothing more than to believe the honey that dripped from her mouth, but somehow kmew her long enough not to. What a story to tell. She could pretend her warmth was genuine and he would nod and take it for truth ― simply because he wished it to be. ❝ There’s nothing to apologise for, you haven’t offended me. ❞
Though his smile wasn’t nearly as convicing as her, he did his best to retain a faiding gesture. After a moment he moved her hand in between both of his. ❝ One day soon. ❞ His voice just above a whisper.
she’d been so young when she had first laid eyes on the lord of starfall. full of fresh-faced beauty, of adventure and curiosity, and he had captured her from their very first conversation. her youth would forever belong to him, there was no use denying it. how she had tried to catch his eye at every dinner, smiles traded across courtyards, stolen kisses in the stables like the romances of songs. the weeks following his absence had been filled with the pain she would come to know as heartbreak. for he had been her very first love, something destined to cause irreparable damage once it met it’s destructive end. and yet?
yet she had never had her closure, not when he fled in the night. not when they met once more ( a child. a child had been the result. a forever reminder. ), perhaps why she could still not look at him now and feel nothing but loss. loss and contempt. “i am pleased to hear it.”
walls could be torn down, gods know myrcella has learned vividly from experience. but the need for iron walls excels just her own now. she’s secrets of her own she must protect, and she does so with sweet smiles, and a gentle voice. but even one as good at pretending as she can’t disguise the brief surprise at the gesture. the wide eyes that had once swum with naivety, the way her pink stained lips part. fool. she was a fool to think that one touch wouldn’t set her back a decade. “how soon? when?” the words leave her lips before she’s a chance to consider them, what they might mean, a smile hurrying to her lips to smooth over the cracks once more. hand pulling free. “i’ll need time to prepare a banquet worthy, of course.”
I was so alarmed, so afraid.
you cheated on your husband with lord dayne
“i would argue that if anyone were cheated it was certainly me. two men and yet neither cared an inch about me. i should say i’ve done nothing wrong.”
CONFIRM. ( albeit vaguely. )
ynysand
“Similar troubles,” she admitted with a slight chuckle. “Sleep is something you cannot force, no matter how much you do during a day’s work.” Sleep was a fifty-fifty shot with Ynys. She was either going to sleep perfectly and easily, or have so many difficulties that it may have been better that she never lay down in the first place.
a day’s work. that was near laughable. perhaps it was why sleep evaded the queen so easily. the most strenuous day’s work for her meant a tea party on the terrace. “alas, i find that if the sky is awake then to sleep would be a waste. what if we miss something?” she quirks a playful brow at the stranger then. lips curved still in a charming smile.
juliadrumm
“I would not know whether I should be proud or sorry to hear that.” Julia said it jokingly, but knew that the subject was rather serious when it came down to it. Raids, she considered a sad necessity, and talking about them with outsiders always came tenuously. Given, other kingdoms probably had their own problems with exploitation and murder. The only times she really cared about that was when it affected the economics, though…
“They do! I frighten the lightning and make the clouds quiver in place so much that they still cry anyway. Rain is not a problem, you see.” She tilted her head to one side. “Visit? You’re going to visit the sea? It’s always been good company to me, so I hope you find the time to do so… Oh, wait did you mean the Iron Isles? That would make more sense, wouldn’t it?” Julia smiled easily, sure she should at least be more embarrassed than she was. Oh well. That was unless her first guess had been right.
it’s a morbid thing to joke about. something that likely killed thousands over the centuries. if her ladies heard such dark humour, oh, how they’d fuss, fans flapping incessantly as if to blow the sin away. and yet she finds great amusement in indulging the other now. “i should say you can be both, no? i suppose, where you were raised it was an achievement. but of course, when talking to the queen of a nation that has been a target, a vague apology can’t go amiss.” she quips.
myrcella laughs once more and nod, “i do see. a very clever and useful trick, to terrify the elements. one had best stay on your good side.” the auburn haired woman notes with a twitch of her lips. once more, the same bemused expression comes over her as she considers what she says next. “the iron isles i’m afraid, i’ve promised i will and i don’t ever break those. though i should like to pay a visit to the sea too, we’ve always got along so very well and it’s been a while since i’ve spent time with my old friend.”
Put a rumor you heard about my muse in my ask and they'll confirm or deny it.
leyla-tyrell
“Oh please.” Leyla frowned at her cousin, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “You were born beautiful and you will die that way, regardless of age. Cella, men have always turned to take a second glace your way, I doubt that will change once the wrinkles begin to set in. And if they have anything to say about it I am sure you will change their minds…or shut them up.” Among the two it was Cella who caught every lord’s eye. Together they were scrumptious but apart Leyla had always seen Cella thrive when she was not by her side. It was Myrcella who became a Queen, not Leyla, for for good reason. Her cousin was much better suited for the throne than she ever could be. She smiled when assurance was given, and there was a place in her heart that felt rather triumphant as well as resolute on finding a match that best suited her needs to be free. He must be a smart man, smart enough not to wish for Leyla to stay chained to the castle walls or to pop out children left and right. “You give me so much Cella, now you wish to give me confidence…well it’s worked, you see, I am more determined than ever to find such a match. It cannot simply be any man but a specific man.” She had her work cut out of her, Leyla knew that much. But at least she had a choice. Thank the Gods for that.
“You’re horrible, truly. You wish to scorn me and make my cheeks go redder. Gods it’s like they’re radiating heat.” The Tyrell woman began to fan herself with her free hand, feeling a sense of heat rush through her veins. Embarrassment? No, nothing of the sort. But this was the first time she’d spoke of Balian, and perhaps there’d always been something there for her. The lord continued to surprise her, their day at the lake was no different. A soft smile pressed against Leyla’s lips before Cella’s small outburst, causing the redhead to gasp and reel back. “Oh you don’t mean it! It- I…Honestly, you have had so much to deal with lately, Cella, I didn’t wish to, well, distract you in any way.” It was honest. Her cousin was the Queen now, she had been for many years now. This meant Leyla needed to step back a little, or felt that she must. Her eyes followed the movement of Myrcella’s hand as she plucked a from a bush they passed by, chuckling gently when it was placed in her hair. Wild and free, just as she was. “Well now you’re clearly trying to get a rise out of me. No, he did not. We…may or may not have gone skinny dipping in the lake just outside the reaches of the castle. Perhaps I am fond of him…I do not know.” Leyla groaned in a rather unladylike manner, burring her face into Cella’s gown.
Her cousin’s words caused a gentle frown to appear on her lips, and her head raised from the fabric of Myrcella’s dress so that she may look upon the other. “Perhaps I should lock him in his study and have a little chat with the King as his ways of wooing a woman. Children or not a lady should always be wooed.” It should be a policy between husband and wife, really. How foolish was this King, Myrcella’s husband, that he could did not produce a single romantic bone in his body? “Good. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially the girls. Men a cruel, you know? Especially when we are so young and naive…May the twins never have to experience such woes as we have.”
it was true. not named thus for nothing, the little lady of spring had blossomed as she grew. all the fairer still once her thorns sprouted too. but age was a tricky thing for every woman. it was hard to come to terms with the idea that your body would change, the looks you’d depended on would wither. that all the things you’d been taught were the most important things in the world, were now turning to dust and where would that leave her then? “what would i do without you here, hm?” the queen’s eyes, often so stormy, softened as they land on her cousin. hands taking one of hers and squeezing gently. she doubted she’d have lasted at highgarden, without the tyrell’s to keep her sane. “always so honest with me. just tell your silly old cousin to be quiet.” myrcella had every faith that leyla would find someone who wouldn’t be foolish enough to lock her away. that would see that to have a happy marriage would mean to embrace everything about her, including her free spirit. if she must forfeit freedom herself, then she’d be damned if leyla ever was made to do the same. gods have mercy on any who so much as even tried. “and you will. you will, you will, you will. i’m always right leyla, you know that.” the woman waves her hand nonchalantly then, grinning. “you’re a wonderful young woman. the only reason you’ve not found someone yet is because you are too clever too settle.”
it’s so easy to be the girl of twenty and four whenever she’s with her. the bronzed wreath tiara atop her auburn curls all but forgotten. she was no queen with leyla, just a girl from southshield, with a knack for getting into trouble. “oh no, lady leyla! don’t cool them down. perhaps the heat might ward off winter and that would be so very helpful, i’d be forever indebted to you.” cella lays a dramatic hand against her forehead then, a near cackle leaving the rose tinted lips. reminiscent of a fifteen year old girl, long before marriage and a coronation had weighed her so heavily. the one with ripped skirts and damp sashes from the sunset sea who laughed so loud aboard a boat made of driftwood as her brothers took turns shoving the other off the edge. she scoffs softly, a thin brow arching at the other as if to say really? “there shall never come a day where i don’t have the time for you, do you hear? you’re perhaps the one normal piece i’ve left now in this life, you keep me sane.” after a pointed look her way to ensure the sentiment gets across, myrcella takes her arm once and begins to lead her her through the winding paths. familiar scents of honey and roses enveloping the both of them the deeper they walked. still, her attention is stolen away from a pretty white set of lilies, head whipping round to leyla once more as her lips purse in an attempt to not laugh. something she fails dreadfully at, as delighted peels of laughter leave the queen. “leyla! by the gods, i’ll pray for us both else we’ll end up in hell i’m sure of it for this sin alone.” she’s teasing obviously, they’d both had plenty a risky rendezvous. “you must be rather fond if you’re willing to catch your death of cold.”
a porcelain hand falls on the back of the others fiery curls, fingers combing carefully through as a slight smile pulls at her lips. “as amusing as that sounds, and as tempted as i am to agree, i doubt it’ll go down that well. he’s just rather busy. the kingdom falling to pieces is enough to ruin any mood.” myrcella nods slowly then, nose wrinkling. they both knew the pitfalls of men well enough. “i worry their upbringing has made them perhaps too naive... they never see the bad and i’m glad that’s the case, i shouldn’t want them to ever be cynics. but perhaps a little more wary?”
aidan-redfort
“Ah, but your grace. Something tells me that you are much smarter than that.” The commander stated with a light smile, genuine, of course, he would not give Myrcella anything less than what she deserved. Perhaps he should not grow so fond of the Queen of the Reach so quickly, perhaps he should remain tactical in securing the Gardeners as allies, though he knew any meeting with his queen would surely secure the deal. He was merely here as a guest to his queen and to begin such friendships between the Vale and the Reach. And a friendship was surely brewing between the two. “Surely someone must, who knows what I will say next. Perhaps I will make a fool of myself, though I hope I haven’t already.” Aidan chuckled as he pushed the now empty goblet away from his grasp. Enough of that, surely they were beginning to sound as giddy as the couple across from them making eyes at one another. He would blame the wine, however, it was much stronger than he’d first expected. That was always the problem with sweet wine, one never did begin to notice when they’d had too much. “Yes, please. I would say we should make a toast to our new found friendship but I’m afraid I cannot drink another drop.”
Perhaps Myrcella was right. Though Lydia did not need him to fight her battles for her, she probably appreciated the act anyway. He cared, in his own way, even if it was not the right way, surely she could see that he cared. “Well it is our duty as older brothers to come to our sister’s aid. Honestly I would do it even if she was older than I. Perhaps it is merely a male complex.” The commander quipped aloud, thinking men may always feel the need to ‘come to the rescue,’ as if their masculinity depended on it. As well, it probably did. “Exactly. Just arrange marriages within the Reach, not too far from Highgarden so that they may never stray far. I only hope that anyone who has your children’s hand will be as kind to them as their mother would be.” He would much rather die than see any child of his enter a marriage that would only make them suffer. Myrcella’s children were so grown, he worried for them though they were not his own. Girls he had always worried for the most.
“For that I am truly grateful of, and I may only hope now we can revisit this friendship in the future.” And he did mean that. Myrcella was someone he wished to have in his corner, not only because she was intelligent and had a certain air to her that breathed kindness but also because of her honesty. He trusted her though he did not know her well, which did not happen at all, really. Now, as the food began to arrive and the table quieted down, he exchanged another look with the Queen, a small smile ghosting over his slightly parted lips. She made him laugh, he could appreciate that. Though he no longer had anything to toast with, he did so in his thoughts, to their newly found friendship and hoped that it would only grow from here.
“we are all more than we seem in my opinion.” still she bows her head gratefully for a moment. it was often said that the queen of the reach could enchant just about anyone with her beguiling smile and charmed wit. minstrels sang of a woman with hair set aflame by the sun, able to change the course of nations with a simple laugh. a dramatised version of the truth, to be sure, but myrcella had always known her gift resided in her natural talent for conversation. winning all she needed with a curl of her lips. but what she offered now was genuine. there was no ulterior motive, only friendship. “perhaps your mother ought to go with you wherever you go? but fortunately you have done nothing to make your mother upset, you have only served to entertain what was a very bored queen.” her grey eyes flit to the couple still in the throes of wooing the other. a much simpler time, one she can scarcely remember. though there hadn’t been much time for that. she had hardly had more than a handful of conversations with gareth before she was ushered down the aisle at sixteen. “nor me so perhaps we ought to toast the next time we meet. something to look forward to.” myrcella suggests with a kind grin.
she remembers the days vividly. burning through southshield like a quiet fire, her brothers always two steps behind to clean up after her, keep her safe. her older sister always waiting for her at the end, to tutt and roll her eyes just like mother. “there are worse things in the world than caring too much. it doesn’t matter how old we get, i shall be the first to admit i miss having my brothers fuss over me everyday. there’s no safer place.” though her marriage had never been easy, and the love between gareth and she had been nothing short of tumultuous, she never felt fear. knew he would guard her honour and reputation, and would not enact his rage on her. she was lucky in that respect. that was the minimum she could hope for, for her girls. “if they know what is good for them then they will treat them as the ladies they are. else they will have to go through me first.”
as the food is laid on the table, and she must resume her hosting duties once more ( rather than commandeer a single lords attention ) she offers one last nod in his direction. a friendly smile pulling at her nose wine stained lips before she turns to another guest at her side. if nothing else, she could go to bed glad tonight that she had at least hopefully made a friend.
(◕‿◕✿)
Did you really think she was a tender flower you could trample upon, and damage her very soul? She is wildfire. And she is coming to devour you whole.
Nikita Gill (via meanwhilepoetry)
desmond-umber
The light tug against his heart made his smile falter a bit as he thought of his mother. Radiant, she was, like the Queen in front of him. She too had been optimistic before his father laid hands on her too many times, leaving a trail of bruises along her ivory skin. Optimism was forced out of her way of brutality, and he hoped dearly that this would not be the case with the Queen of the Reach. “Leave him the skills to find his way and he will find it. We may only hope that when our children surpass us that they have the tools to make the changes and the decisions we could not.” He didn’t have children, though he wanted them. In his dreams he saw children running down the hall, laughter bouncing off the walls and they chased each other, a boy and a girl. He longed for such happiness and joy to seep into his bones. Perhaps it may ease his anger and his pain. “I do not have children, your grace, but I do wish for them.”
She spoke gently, but there was an air to her that Desmond knew well. Myrcella had passion; she was brave in her way of speaking out when she wished to. Cunning yet beautiful was what the Lord had always longed for…truly it was a shame that the Queen was already married. He hoped such beauty was not wasted on the King of the Reach. “Losing a loved one is never easy. The snow has hardened us all, I believe, but as your father was to you it seems, my mother was one of a kind. She was so unlike the North, I hardly believed she had been born here. I suppose not all of us are meant to be where we are…” The Lord paused, eyes fixated on the kitchen walls before them. He seemed entranced by them, but it did not take long for the smile to return to Desmond’s lips. “But I assure you, your grace, your kindness and generosity will not go unnoticed. If it is an ally you wish to gain from us, I surely hope we may be of service to such a noble house.” The Gardeners, fewer coin or not, still had power in the South. Though he was Northern through and through, it might serve them well to have friends outside of the North. “I will pray for your safe travels home, your grace, and for the arrival of such a rose.”
The Lord’s gaze fell upon the Queen’s skirts as they guided through the halls. He was always amazed by how lovely the women in the South looked, lush fabrics, big and bold, with embroidery that could put any women in his castle’s work to shame. It was dazzling, and it made it rather hard to take his eyes off of her. “A man’s life is rather dull without a woman in it. I find myself staring at the walls, out windows, losing myself in thought. Perhaps I need a wife to tether my thoughts back to reality.” At the moment, his mind was tethered to the Queen and her laughter, a sweet sound that filled his ears with merriment. “I can think of nothing better than a warm fire, furs and wine. It is how I spend most days in this study.” Desmond chuckled, offering his hands in help to remove the Queen’s thick robes now that they were no longer out in the cold. Once he had done this, the Lord took his seat opposite to Myrcella, a smile still pressed to his lips. “If I may speak boldly, your grace, you are just so radiant. I could not take my eyes off of you. Your gown is gorgeous, the embroidery is exquisite.”
she thinks of her four then. all gentle. her eldest in particular. she knows he’ll make a good king. will show far more kindness and patience than that of his parents, but she can only hope he gets that chance. “he’ll be ready, he’ll be good. i know it. he’s a kind boy at heart. but one never knows what the future might bring, so can he ever be fully equipped if we simply don’t know what will come?” myrcella did not often look toward the future. she much preferred the present, or to linger on the past. the future held far too much to be uncertain of. in truth it frightened her. the queen arched a brow. “there is still plenty time yet for children, of which i am sure you will be very good at. men father children much older than you. i shouldn’t worry, a time will come when all falls into place and you’ll be entirely ready then.”
blessed, had she been with her father. a man who had wanted everything imaginable for both his sons and daughters equally. never had he sought to tame his daughter, or force her into things she didn’t wish to do for he knew she was as stubborn as himself. and that anything myrcella was made to do, would likely end in disaster. his loss had brought her unimaginable pain. as she had brought her daughters into this world, the gods had taken her father instead. it was her greatest regret, being unable to go to him in his final hours. “i believe there are times when we all feel as if we don’t belong but how terribly sad if your mother truly never felt at home. still, she had you. children make a home for a mother. she can go anywhere, if they go with her.” he manages to elicit a gentle blush from her then. rose tinted cheeks hopefully disguised now by the glow of the fire. or at least able to blame it on the heat. “well i swear that was not my intention when i offered it, truly. though we should of course like to make friends of you, i would hate for you to think of me so unkind.”
the furs, no matter how lovely they were, soon felt far too heavy for a woman used to silks and chiffon and so she is glad of the help to be rid of them. plenty more comfortable now as she settles down by the fire. “if it is a wife you need, there are plenty ladies in the reach if the idea of a southern woman does not upset you too much.” a playful smile brings life back to her eyes then, “you ought to visit. come see highgarden and all it’s beauties. and i can show you off then.” she teases, slim fingers fiddling with the pendant about her neck. “all the better to enjoy then with a woman i say, we had better find you a wife soon to enjoy many fires and bottles of wine with. it all sounds rather romantic, a shame that the reach is too hot for me to try at home.” myrcella bows her head then in modest gratitude, smoothing the skirts of her dress in direct reply. though there is nothing bashful to her, the queen of the reach was afterall a woman not unfamiliar to compliments. if only they could be traded for currency, that would solve all her problems. “you are kind to say so. the artistry of my dressmakers surely deserves to be recognised.”