𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩

for hands of GOLD are ( ALWAYS COLD ),but a WOMAN'S hands are W A R M. for H A N D S of gold are ALWAYS cold BUT A W O M A N' S HANDS ARE . . . lady myriam. 29. mistress of whisperers

[resourcesinblue]

DEATHLESS.

the following prompts were taken from the novel deathless by catherynne m. valente, an american novelist & poet. the novel was loosely based on the tale of koschei the deathless, incorporating other elements of russian mythology, & setting it against the backdrop of the russian revolution. feel free to change the pronouns / prompts as you see fit, but be warned – below the cut, it’s quite long !

❛ the service of your body is not yours to give as you please. ❜

❛ you probably won’t survive. ❜

❛ go. run. don’t look behind you. ❜

❛ i have come for the girl in the window. ❜

❛ i will never be without information. ❜

❛ i will see him with his skin off before i fall in love. ❜

❛ if the world is divided into seeing & not seeing, i will always choose to see. ❜

❛ secrets are jealous things, permitting no fraternization. ❜

❛ no, it’s not like that, when magic comes. ❜

❛ magic does that. it wastes you away. once it grips you by the ear, the world gets quieter & quieter until you can hardly hear it at all. ❜

❛ the sight of it bruised my heart so that i cannot think about anything else. ❜

❛ i’ll be so quiet, i’ll never talk again. ❜

❛ keep me & obey me, for i am your husband, & i can destroy you. ❜

❛ i shall be clever, & i shall not let him go. ❜

❛ it is a new world, & we do not wish to be left behind. ❜

Keep reading

[myriamed]

baratheoned‌:

@myriamed

When Raina and the children had gone to bed, he was left awake, unable to find peace in bed. With his siblings in their rooms, that left him alone, and alone with his thoughts his mind began to wander. He needed to know what had happened. And there were only a few people whom Raymont trusted to tell him, had they any idea.

And so, in the dead of night, when the moon had passed behind the horizon and the only light outside came from distant torches, he had found his way to her room. He had been as quiet as was possible for him and had gone unnoticed, until now. At her door, he didn’t know if she slept yet and therefore had to knock. It was quite loud and echoed through the hall he was stood in. “Myriam.” His hissing voice sounded against the door. “It’s Raymont. Let me in.”

          there had been little time for rest in the wake of such chaos. events like this were the reason why the crown had endowed her with a title, and the hours immediately following a tragedy were crucial in obtaining necessary information. myriam had been blindsided by this attack , which set her entirely on edge. she didn’t like being in the dark. 

       she sat rather rigidly in her chair , quill moving frantically along parchment. she had managed to obtain access to ravens , which were now extremely limited in quantity, thanks to a stable hand and the purse of coin she had offered him. a knock at her door drew her from her thoughts , and she cautiously rose to meet the disembodied hand that thumped so insistently.  

          the assurance that she knew the man on the other side was the only thing that saw the braavosi woman unbolt the door and allow him to step inside.    ❝ UNFORTUNATELY , i have very little time to entertain you , lord baratheon . ❞ she cooed , only-half assuming the role of coquette.  ❝ my other occupation remains my priority this night.   ❞

[myriamed]

ofblacktyde‌:

        his homecoming should have been a joyous occasion, but all stefán had felt was restlessness. he’d long to return to the sea, return to braavos, but obstacles had appeared one after the other and it hadn’t mattered how hard he fought; leaving wasn’t an option. looking back, he feels foolish for fighting so hard. she had probably left braavos the moment he was out of sight. had what they shared meant nothing to her? perhaps she hadn’t cared. perhaps she still doesn’t. 

          but stefán… no matter how his eye had wandered before myriam and after her disappearance, his heart remains as faithful as the sea. there has only been one woman he has let into his heart. only myriam. he wishes now that he could will his heart to let her go for she has clearly turned her back on him - on them. however, even beneath the anger currently filling his veins, his heart still beats for her. a sea may rage and wreck havoc on an island, but once the storm clears its waves will gently crash upon the shores once more, silently apologizing for its temper. there is no end in sight for his storm but his love refuses to wane.

          in some twisted sense, it makes his temper flare even more. she has no right to hold this control over him. this is why stefán was never interested in love before. love is a weakness. it blinds a person, makes them incapable of thought, especially when the heart is broken. with her, he’d let the idea fade. a foolish mistake.

          ❝  i see. ❞           his jaw clenches. how dare she.          ❝  well i’m sure the crown makes sure your pockets are full and your nights aren’t lonely. ❞          venom fills his words. any sign of politeness has faded and in his storm of rage, he hopes his words hurt. it goes against his heart; all he has ever wanted has been to protect her and make her happy, but his heart is drowned out by storm.

          ❝  must be quite the life. ❞          he wonders if she remembers the life they had spoken of. then again, those must have been lies too. easy for her to forget, impossible for stefán.

            her heart had broken when he stepped onto the ship that took him away from her. if it had healed at all , it had been improperly. resentment had served as an adhesive for the fragments she tried to piece together. he had made himself indispensable to her, and then left on a sea of broken promises. to see him standing so tall now - - so proudly sickened her. how could he possibly look at her with such disdain if he had ever meant a word he said. men lied to get what they wanted, her mother said. men lied for just about anything. myriam had trusted very few and loved only one. had such strong devotion mattered so very little ? had he lied to her , too ? 

        anger boils inside her , but that unfair beating of her heart. that portion of her that had missed him for five years wants to reach out and touch him. to feel his arms around her once before insisting that he explained himself. but her pride does not allow it , nor the hurt that has accumulated in the years. she will not go up against the tide for him. not anymore. 

          he speaks , and she recoils. it’s as if she’s been burned by his words. the deathless , the westerosi called him. she knew that he came with a vicious reputation  - there was talk of him even essos. a warrior , ruthless and quick to anger. never once had he turned his words or his anger on her. in his arms she had always felt safe. he had not demeaned her in the way that the lords of noble houses in westeros were known to do , their attitudes toward her profession worn so clearly on their expression. he had never sought to WOUND her as he had just done.

        she makes no effort to hide the damage his words have inflicted upon her. she takes a step away from him , as if to shield herself from the onslaught. eyes widen, bearing into his. if it was his intention to harm her to this degree , then he has been successful. if it was not , then she hopes to inform him of it. she remains wordless and staggering for a moment , before her expression contorts itself. anger of her own licks flames across her face , fists clenching at her side. ❝  well , common whores are all the same , aren’t they, my lord ? we take the first coin that’s offered to us ? ❞  she would never refer to her girls in such a manner  - the term abhors her, but she insists on playing into his hand. the breaking in her voice betraying the fury in her eyes. she’s raised her voice beyond what might be appropriate, but the noise of the room masks it well enough. 

               ❝ it’s a life , at least. it does me better than WAITING for a life ever did.   ❞

[romelzacarnes]

[myriamed]

kristjvn‌:

❛  YES ,  WE .  when stefán couldn’t find you— well— it had appeared as though you had dropped off the edge of the world .  ❜          it is only seconds after the words leave his mouth that he wonders if he should have not said them .  it wasn’t exactly his place .  even if he believed they might both benefit if she knew .  for he recalled his dear friend’s happiness when he had lady myriam at his side .  and the toll it had taken upon him when he had thought he lost her for good .  he shrugs his shoulders ,  slipping easily into the nest topic .  as though he hadn’t just delivered a great truth to her just seconds before .          ❛  as for myself ,  i come and go as i please .  i am in the iron islands more often than not these days .  but i will still tend to business in the stepstones and its surrounding cities when need be .  i will likely be doing just that once these festivities are over and my leaving won’t have my brother demanding i be dragged back .  ❜

              he moved on much faster than she can reply , but she had heard it. when stefán couldn’t find you. what could be meant by such a statement ? in what world had stefán blacktyde been unable to find her ? certainly , not the one in which she waited years for him. certainly not the one in which she existed now.  the thought , mingled with the sound of his name , turns her blood cold. she barely listens to kristján’s following words. she has no intention of being rude , but shock overtakes any politeness she can muster. she clings to the semblance of calm , eyes flitting frantically about the room before she recognizes that kris has finished talking. 

       ❝ how different that sounds to the life you led years ago.  ❞ comes her reply to , though it is spoken in haste. she turns to him , eyes bearing into his. 

                         ❝ what did you mean, when stefán couldn’t find me, kris ?                                   what EXACTLY did you mean by that. ❞

[thestoryandyou]

[myriamed]

@ofblacktyde

[myriamed]

ofblacktyde‌:

        the ironborn are forged at sea; the churning tides and unforgiving waves give them no choice but to drown any softness that may exist within them. the soft do not thrive at sea. stefán doubts he was ever born with softness in his blood. had he been then the sickness would have taken his life when he was first born. but he had survived. he has survived countless other events meant to kill him too - the deathless; a moniker he wears with pride. each scar he has suffered in life has hardened his skin. however, standing here now stefán realizes he has not crafted his armor strong enough.

          for her, he had allowed softness to flow through his veins, like how the sea, when it did not storm, would stretch up the shore and lap at one’s ankles, embracing instead of drowning. curse him. curse him for thinking the bliss they lived in would last. the horizon always carries a storm. he should have known one would have found them; he shouldn’t have let love sneak its way into his heart. but it had. perhaps if he was a better man he would have stayed forever, but the sea calls to him, even now, and the moment krisján had decided it time to leave stefán had followed, but not without a promise. a meaningless promise so it seems.

          ❝  i’m representing house blacktyde. my father is too ill to travel. ❞          he keeps his tone formal. he doesn’t know how to speak to her now. her words remind him that it should be his brother in his place, he wonders if she knows or if she even cares, but even if dalton were alive, stefán wouldn’t have left kris to suffer through this affair on his own.

          his expression hardens, jaw clenching.          ❝  duty? ❞          an anger sparks in him, fueled by his hurt and sorrow, that rivals the pain. good. hurt is foreign but he knows anger well enough to control it. he can armor himself in it. the shock has faded; he finds solid ground again. all duty is is promises. where had this commitment to duty when he’d promised to return for her? she’d turned her back on that promise with no hesitation.          ❝  didn’t think you’d swear yourself to some bloody crown. ❞          he wants to ask if they are treating her well. if she’s happy. but he cannot.

        she wonders if he has thought about her in the years that now distance them. does he imagine her ? does he envision the nights she wept over him  - -  waiting fruitlessly for a return that would never come. when he boarded that ship back to westeros , were the words he uttered to her spoken falsely ? she is not one to be taken for a fool , and yet she had clung so willingly to  his every word. his arms felt more like a home than anything she had ever known. she had allowed him into her heart , and he stole it away. never once had he attempted to RETURN it. 

        myriam had never desired a life as a westerosi lady. in truth , she had no need for it. to be a lord’s wife meant less freedom than she was now allowed. her fortune was hers & hers alone , and yet - -  for him , she had entertained the idea. he , who had made no attempts to stifle or contain her. whose wildness was a match entirely for her own. the plans they had made. does he ever LOOK BACK ? 

       ❝  i am sorry to hear that .    ❞  though she wishes his father no ill , stefán’s sudden sense of duty is almost laughable. is his word conditional ? are there degrees to which he can keep a promise ? hands come to rest defensively against her waistline , eyes obviously avoiding his. 

        she can tell by the sudden shift in an obscenely polite tone , that something has angered him. time has done little to fade her understanding of him. in turn , her temper ignites. what right has he to be angry ? eyes now lift to bear into his. 

           ❝  AND I DIDN’T THINK YOU THOUGHT OF ME AT ALL .   ❞ the words escape in a hiss . ❝  - -  how i spend my time is little concern of yours , my lord. you made sure of that long ago.   ❞ 

[myriamed]

kristjvn‌:

❛  YOU MAKE A FAIR POINT .  i try to change my scenery as often as possible .  the same old thing gets boring so very quickly !  ❜          it is good to see her face again .  for he was so sure he likely never would after what occurred between her and stefán .  he appreciates that it seems as though her opinion of him has not soured by association .  after all ,  he rarely goes anywhere without lord blacktyde .  and having known the man since childhood ,  very much considers him to be more family than anything else .  he offers her a grin before downing the last of the ale in his cup and practically tossing on the table before him with little care .          ❛  i am curious then ,  how long have you been in westeros ?  we had thought you disappeared !  ❜

       there is great joy associated with the image of kristján greyjoy , but also great pain. though he had become her friend in essos , he had been stefán’s friend for far longer. in losing stefán , she had also lost him. in their parting , she had not endeavored to make the man choose sides , particularly when she knew where loyalties would lie. she wonders  now if kris knew of the string of broken promises his first made had left behind.absently , myriam takes a dark curl between her forefinger and thumb, twirling it lazily. she pausesonly when kristján uses a collective word rather than the singular. ❝ we ? ❞ she echoes unintentionally , the word hanging thick in the air. it is in realizing her blunder that she resumes with the coy twirling of a lock of her hair. what does he mean, we ? 

         ❝  the better part of three years , i would say. did you not hear that the starling had flown east ? i thought it was common knowledge that a foreigner has revolutionized brothels south of the neck.  ❞  she does not refer to her other position that has granted her the TITLE of ‘lady,’ false as it may be. ❝ and what of you , lord grejoy ?  ❞ 

[myriamed]

ofmesaya‌:

Mesaya had gone through enough to not be fazed by what had happened; however, the commotion that it had created, the confusion, the screams, and the fear — that’s what sent Mesaya’s mind down a road inside of her head that she didn’t want to explore. The memories at the end of that perilous path were buried for a reason. “My Lady,” The Volantene girl spoke, respect lacing her calm tone, understanding the words between the lines. “Yes, of course. I have already arranged your chambers.” Although there was a blurred line between her job and the real reason why she always stood by The Mistress of Whisperers. Arms locked, Mesaya guided her lady to where she was supposed to be going. 

Hearing Valryian being spoken, in a kingdom where Mesaya could not have felt more out of place, brought a sensation of warmth to her, much needed in such an unforgiving cold. 

“Skoros gaomagon ao jorrāelagon nyke naejot gaomagon?”

            mesaya had proven herself an invaluable aid to myriam’s operations. even in braavos, she had gone above and beyond the expectations of a handmaiden. she was, perhaps, the only person myriam trusted with information as sensitive as this. in crisis, she would always look to mesaya. myriam lifted the hood of her cloak to conceal her telling veils & jewels. from the sleeve of her gown , she pulled a parchment scroll.  ❝  they say targaryen banners were found amongst the rubble - - if this was a premeditated attack , i had no knowledge of it.  though , it is my SUSPICION that someone else is using our king’s...disposition to their advantage.  ❞ cautiously , she passed  the paper into mesaya’s hand, closing her fingers around it. its contents were intended for the lord commander. 

           ❝ i’ll need you to deliver this. we’re not to sit like ducks here if conflict does arise.  ❞ she paused.  ❝  tomorrow , i intend to ride for the nearest brothel. the north does not take kindly to spies, but we might be able to hire some for the right price. ❞

          ❝  if this was the doing of the southern courts , we’ll need to prepare.  ❞

[beatrixkiddo]

I’d say smouldering temptress.

[myriamed]

kristjvn‌:

IT IS RARE that surprise grips him easily .  but as the familiar voice of a particular braavosi woman fills his ears ,  he finds himself filled to the brim with it .  his blue eyed gaze catches on her smirking face and— despite the confusion over why she’s here— he smiles .  for she is an old friend .  and when stuck in a snow covered sea of unfriendly faces ,  he isn’t about to turn away one of the few kind ones .  though he does wonder if stefán knows she’s here .  he may have to find his first mate a source of a much stiffer drink while they are trapped here .          ❛  you ought to know by now that i am entirely incapable of doing such a thing !  ❜          he elbows the man next to him ,  one of his crew mates ,  nearly knocking the man off the seat to make room for her as well .          ❛  come ,  sit !  i am intrigued to know what has brought you so far from braavos ,  lady myriam .  if you don’t mind indulging an old friend that is .  ❜

          myriam does not consider herself the sort to amass friends in large numbers. friendships, she finds , are fickle and can be changed in an instant. her line of work does not promote the accumulation of them , and it is for this reason that the ones she has are precious. her affiliation with kristján greyjoy predates her affiliations with westeros, with the crown. in this way, it might be stronger than the ties she has formed since. she was a more principled person, then - - she was better when she had first met him. as a space is made ready for her , she offers a smile and a little wink to the man that has been troubled by her presence. in her experience , it is normally enough to placate. she adjusts her skirts , sitting down and looking intently towards her old friend. 

          ❝ we all require a change of scenery , do we not ? my desire for one just came with several monetary opportunities.   ❞

[myriamed]

            she is the pinnacle of calm , apparently unfazed entirely by the commotion.  in her observation of this world of cutthroat politics and embedded animosity , crises like these are commonplace. she accepts them as such, and moves on. she knows of one, however, whose upbringing might not lend itself to such an unmoved attitude. it is to her that she flocks to -- in a haze of swishing skirts. she dips into a curtsy for the princess , offering her arm. 

      ❝ my princess , might i ask for a moment of your time ? ❞

plotted starter for @viscrra

[myriamed]

     ❝ mesaya ,  ❞   the name falls from her lips as gently as she can manage to avoid arising suspicion from those who linger in the great hall. an elegant arm comes to wind itself around the other woman’s , demure smile painted on her lips.  ❝ i believe i ought to retire. accompany me ? ❞ she raises a brow at the woman , a subtle enough indicator that all is not as it seems. there is more to what she requires than a simple preparation for bed. in truth , she will not sleep. myriam guides the woman away , neutral expression plastered on her face like a mask. it is not until the pair are out of earshot that she speaks , assuming her mother tongue to add a layer of  obscurity to her words. 

           ❝ konīr iksis mirre naejot gaomagon ❞

plotted starter for / @ofmesaya

[myriamed]

are you religious?

        ❝  i’m considered damned by many that encounter me ,why else would any god - - - old , new , bearded , many-faced , or otherwise think differently and accept me into its congregation ? i have only ever thought to pray to the moonsingers , and even then my ties are tenuous. i prefer only to answer to myself.  ❞

[myriamed]

how do you feel about westeros? their politics?

  she often finds the people of westeros the same as she does the politics : petty, ill advised, and entirely intrinsically motivated with little exception.  

                 ❝ a woman in my position would be foolish to say anything other than residing here has enlightened me  - -  that i am grateful to surround myself daily with the greatest minds of the realm .  ❞

[myriamed]

do you wish you were in love?

       ❝  no. ❞ word falls from her mouth in a short burst. she had experienced love once. it had arrived in a wave ; the ocean kissing the shore. it had been blissful , and precious. she would have given up everything for it , and then it disappeared , leaving promises in its wake as it set upon the horizon. she had watched & waited for love to return , and it never did. the hole it  left was roughly patched up with bitterness & a string of occupying tasks, continually caving in. love had stripped her of whatever softness she had left to offer. 

       she does not wish to be in love because she understands its capability to destroy hope as easily as it ignites it. she does not wish to be in love because she is busy and tired. she does not wish to be in love because she believes that she has little love left to offer. 

                         she does not wish to be in love again ,               because she never quite learned how to fall out of it. 

i’m literally just vaguing @ofblacktyde​

[myriamed]

do you have any regrets?

         ❝  regrets breed wrinkles and sleeplessness. i have no time for either. if you require one , i will tell you that ever leaving braavos was a decision i might have made in haste.  ❞