noble souls

as as imagined by aspen for regismortemhq. refresh | ravens | westeros

[prophxtics]

The following text has been faithfully transcribed from the old tongue into the modern language by aspen ( she / her, pst ) , for private use as professional agonist to dragonsrot. all events are true, and names have been preserved to honor the courage of those fallen. may their souls be commended to the old and the new gods.  

✧  lady olynna arryn of the eyrie, the fair falcon — introduction, pinterest. ✧  lady sirena tully nee swann of riverrun, the storm maiden— introduction, pinterest.

[vikingagesource]

ALEXANDER DREYMON as UHTRED OF BEBBANBURG THE LAST KINGDOM: SEVEN KINGS MUST DIE (2023)

[prophxtics]

open starter from lord kallias stark; the masquerade ball — open [ 0/4 ]

There were, Kallias had decided some time ago, entirely too many candles. the great hall glittered as though someone had mistaken it for the heavens themselves, every polished surface reflecting another hundred points of golden light until the room became almost blinding. somewhere nearby musicians played with remarkable enthusiasm, nobles drifted from dance to dance beneath elaborate masks, and servants somehow managed to navigate the sea of silk without spilling a single goblet. It was in his entirely biased opinion, exhausting. ale rested comfortably in one broad hand as the stark found refuge near the edge of the ballroom where the walls at least remained solid and no one seemed intent on discussing politics or marriage prospects every few minutes. "forgive me," he said, lifting his goblet slightly in greeting, "i've been trying terribly hard to look like i belong here," a beat passed, "have i managed it yet, or should i fetch another ale and keep practicing?"

[prophxtics]

The following text has been faithfully transcribed from the old tongue into the modern tongue for the royal library of westeros to honor lord kallias stark of winterfell, the ice giant. all events and information are true, may the old gods hold his soul.

BASICS.

name : kallias stark. name meaning : goodness, noble. nicknames : kal, lias. titles : lord of winterfell. epithets : the ice giant. age : fourthy-five birthdate : twenty first day of the eleven month. gender : cis man, he/him. sexuality : heterosexual. status : married. birthplace : twinterfell, the north, westeros. religion : the old gods. allegiances : house stark, the north.

APPERANCE.

height : 6'3. hair : black. eyes : stark blue. dominant hand : left hand scars : several training/fighting scars all over his body. faceclaim : alexander dreymon. physical description : of imposing stature, the wild wolf of house stark stands well above most men, broad shouldered and powerfully built from a lifetime spent with sword in hand rather than seated behind a lord's desk. his complexion bears the fair coloring common to the starks, though years beneath northern skies and countless campaigns have weathered it into a rugged bronze. his piercing almond shaped eyes are a striking stark blue, clear as winter ice and often softened by an easy warmth that contrasts the severity of his features. his raven black tresses, are worn long and most often tied back away from his face, while a neatly kept beard frames a strong jaw and high cheekbones marked by the passage of time. old scars decorate his hands, neck, and the length of his body, each collected through years of training, hunting, and battle, though he wears them with little more thought than another man might give freckles. despite the formidable figure he cuts, there is an undeniable kindness in the crooked smile that so often finds him, laugh lines settled permanently at the corners of his eyes and an easy confidence that makes him seem far more approachable than a lord of winterfell has any right to be. muse inspiration : benjen stark, giuliano de' medici, will turner, uhtred of bebbanburg.

PSYCHE.

zodiac sign : scorpio. positive traits : disciplined & stratigic. negative traits : rowdy & impulsive. moral alignment : chaotic neutral. hobbies : sword training, map reading, snow fights, hunting. personality : kallias is often described by those closest to him as boisterous, dependable, and endlessly good humored. quick with a joke and quicker with a grin, he carries himself more like a seasoned soldier than a lord, often preferring the training yard, the stables, or a hunt through the wolfswood over the duties expected within winterfell's great hall. many mistake his relaxed nature for carelessness, though those who know him best understand there is little that escapes his notice. behind easy laughter and deliberately unpolished manners lies an observant, calculating man who has spent his life studying battlefields, reading those around him, and quietly placing the needs of others before his own. as a younger son he never sought titles nor authority, content with the simple purpose of protecting his family, his people, and the north itself. when duty demanded more of him, he accepted it without complaint, carrying the weight of winterfell only until the rightful lord was ready to bear it himself. fiercely loyal and slow to anger, kallias possesses remarkable patience with those he loves, though once that patience is exhausted he becomes every bit the wolf his name has earned. beneath the scars, loud laughter, and rough northern charm rests a deeply compassionate man whose greatest instinct has always been to shield others before himself. though he rarely speaks of sacrifice, it has quietly shaped nearly every important decision of his life, and while many measure strength by ambition, kallias has always believed it is measured by the burdens one is willing to carry for those they call their own.

MISC.

occupation :  lord of winterfell, father and husband. social class :  nobility. languages : common tongue, old tongue. species : warg.

FAMILIAL.

parents : former ruling lord benjen stark & former ruling lady lyra stark. siblings : former ruling lord brandon stark. spouse : lady lysara stark nee arryn. issue : llord alaric stark, lady dyanna stark, lady lyra stark.

HISTORY.

chapter one — born beneath the first heavy snowfall of winter, kallias arrived into the world much as he would live within it, stubbornly. after long hours that tested both the patience of the maester and the resolve of his mother, his first cry echoed through winterfell loud enough that the servants later joked the wolves beyond the walls had answered him in return. lady lyra, exhausted but smiling all the same, is said to have looked upon her youngest son before quietly remarking that the old gods had blessed her with a difficult cub. it was never spoken as criticism, only certainty. from his earliest days, kallias seemed possessed by an endless curiosity and boundless energy, forever wandering where he ought not, climbing walls better left unclimbed, disappearing into the godswood only to return muddied, grinning, and entirely unapologetic. while his elder brother carried the quiet composure expected of a future lord, kallias was forever in motion, earning equal measures of exasperation and affection from those tasked with keeping pace. even then, however, beneath scraped knees and mischievous smiles lay an instinctive kindness. if another child found themselves frightened or alone, it was more often than not the young stark who appeared first, offering a hand before anyone had thought to ask.

chapter two — if his mother had named him a difficult cub, his father often remarked that the old gods had neglected to mention just how large that cub would become. kallias seemed to outgrow every boy of his generation before either had reached manhood, standing taller, broader, and stronger with each passing winter. though quick to laughter and quicker to mischief, there was little frivolity when a sword was placed in his hands. where lessons in courtesy and courtly etiquette struggled to keep his attention, the training yard held it effortlessly. the weight of steel felt as natural to him as breathing, and before long he had earned a reputation amongst winterfell for possessing equal measures of raw strength and uncommon instinct. while many assumed the younger stark harbored ambitions toward winterfell, nothing could have been further from the truth. kallias admired his elder brother without reservation, never once questioning the path laid before him nor desiring to walk it himself. where his brother studied stewardship and the responsibilities of lordship, kallias dreamed instead of black cloaks, frozen forests, and the Wall that stood at the edge of the known world. long before he had seen it with his own eyes, he imagined himself amongst its brothers, believing there could be no greater honor than defending the realm where no songs were sung and no crowns were worn. to him, glory had never rested upon a throne. it was found with sword in hand, standing between danger and those unable to face it themselves.

chapter three — by the time kallias reached manhood, he had long since apointed himself to the path he believed awaited him. his elder brother had taken a wife, winterfell stood in capable hands, and with his duty as a younger son fulfilled, his thoughts turned north more often than ever before. preparations had quietly begun, farewells considered, and for the first time in many years the dream that had accompanied him since childhood no longer felt distant. soon he would swear his vows before the heart tree and exchange the grey of house stark for the black of the night's watch. Instead, another duty found him first. long before he ever set eyes upon the Wall, his family placed before him a different future entirely. the match had already been decided to lady lysara arryn, she would become his wife. neither had sought the union, and neither greeted it with enthusiasm. kallias had no desire to surrender the life he had imagined for himself. yet they were children of great houses before they were simply a man and a woman, and duty had a habit of asking far more than desire ever could. though disappointment lingered quietly within him, kallias offered no protest. if the old gods had chosen another road for him, then he would walk it with the same resolve he had once intended to carry to the wall. and so, with more sadness than ceremony, the young wolf laid to rest the dream of black cloaks and frozen castles.

chapter four —if duty had brought them together, affection took considerably longer to follow. lady lysara arrived in winterfell carrying little enthusiasm for the union, and kallias, though no less disappointed by the arrangement, possessed neither the energy nor the desire to quarrel over what could no longer be changed. where she met him with sharpened words and carefully aimed provocations, he answered with little more than easy smiles and infuriating indifference. for a time, winterfell witnessed countless disagreements between wolf and falcon, their tempers colliding as fiercely as the storms beyond its walls. only when kallias finally abandoned his endless patience long enough to answer her fire with his own did something unexpected begin to change. arguments became conversations, conversations lingered beyond necessity, and somewhere between stubborn silences and reluctant laughter, they stopped behaving like strangers forced to share a name. it happened so gradually that neither could later say when the change had truly begun. whatever the moment, friendship arrived before either had thought to welcome it, and love followed with the same quiet certainty as the coming of winter. by the time either realized it, the life neither had wanted had become the one they could no longer imagine living without.

chapter five — life has a curious habit of asking the greatest sacrifices from those who seek power least. when illness slowly stole the strength from lord brandon stark, the burden of winterfell did not fall all at once, but little by little and when lord brandon at last passed into the care of the old gods, winterfell mourned not only its lord but the gentle certainty that had guided it for decades. behind him he left two children still far too young to shoulder the weight of an ancient kingdom, and a north that could ill afford uncertainty. though many urged the younger stark to secure his own position, kallias refused to see the regency as anything but borrowed time. winterfell had never belonged to him, nor did he ever wish for it to. every decision he made, every treaty signed, every judgment passed was done with one purpose alone. to preserve his brother's legacy until the day his nephew was ready to inherit it. while others questioned how long the regency should continue, kallias waited only for lord avan to ask for what had always been his. he would not place the burdens of lordship upon young shoulders before they had grown strong enough to bear them, yet neither would he keep them a single day longer than necessary.

chapter six — with lord avan now firmly established as lord of winterfell, kallias found himself standing in unfamiliar territory. for much of his life, purpose had always arrived before he had time to seek it. for the first time in many years there was no title demanding his every waking hour, no impossible decision waiting beyond the next sunrise. though he continued to advise his nephew whenever asked, he had no desire to linger over authority that was no longer his to wield. freed from the responsibilities of governance, kallias has turned his attention once more toward the dream that first stirred within him as a boy. though he shall never wear the black he has devoted himself to strengthening the night's watch however he is able, ensuring supplies, men, horses, and provisions continue to find their way north as the strange happenings beyond the wall grow increasingly difficult to ignore. when not occuping his time with the wall, he can most often be found where he has always preferred to be, beside his wife, amongst his children, or laughing alongside the family he has spent a lifetime protecting. if kallias has any ambition left in this world, it is a simple one. to leave the north stronger than he found it, and to ensure those who come after him inherit not only winterfell, but the home he has devoted his life to preserving.

[divinaelis]

location: somewhere within the masquerade ballroom as laenora was making her way around -- day five semi-open starter for @prophxtics, @northernseer, and three more !

the masquerade seemed to determine to convince the realm that all was well. music carried effortlessly beneath painted ceilings while laughter rose and fell amongst masked strangers who, for one evening at least, pretended not to recognize one another. the uneasy feeling lingered in the air, though laenora found no use in dwelling upon it. there would be time enough for politics once the masks came off. for now she was content to observe.

a crystal goblet rested lightly between her fingers as she wandered to the edge of the ballroom, watching servants weave effortlessly through the crowd with trays laden in wine from every corner of the realm. arbor reds. dornish vintages. pale summerwine from the reach. enough to satisfy every preference gathered beneath the red keep's roof.

"i've noticed," she remarked as someone drifted to stand beside her, her gaze lingering upon a passing servant, "that those who swear unwavering loyalty to the arbor's reds are often the very same people who wrinkle their noses at dornish wine." only then did she turn toward them, amusement glimmering behind the mask concealing the upper half of her face. "personally, i think the dornish have the better vintage."

[prophxtics]

The observation drew selyse's attention before the conclusion did, rather than answer immediately, her gaze followed the passing servant for a moment, taking in the assortment of bottles balanced carefully upon tray. the colors alone were enough to distinguish one region from another long before the labels ever could, she had often thought there was something rather charming about that, every region seemed determined to bottle a small piece of itself. only then did she glance toward the masked lady beside her, a quiet smile finding its place. "i have noticed something similar," amusement rested gently beneath the words, "though i have never been entirely convinced it is the wine they are defending." her fingers shifted comfortably around the stem of her goblet. "people become remarkably loyal to whatever reminds them of home," she lifted the glass just enough for the candlelight to catch the deep ruby liquid within before taking a measured sip. "whether it is actually the better vintage often becomes, well, secondary," a soft laugh escaped her, "though i suspect the dornish would be delighted to hear someone willing to admit their preference within the walls of the red keep." her gaze returned to the other woman, curiosity quiet but genuine. "i wonder," she mused, "whether we truly taste the wine itself or simply the memories we've attached to it."

[northernseer]

°❀.ೃ࿔*

A QUIET HUM OF AMUSEMENT escapes her at the mention of storage conditions, scarcely louder than the music lingering across the ballroom. ❝ you ought to be grateful you escaped when you did, my lady. ❞ there's a hint of amusement that settles comfortably beneath the reachwoman's words. ❝ otherwise... you may have found yourself responsible for solving the matter entirely. ❞ dark hues drift briefly across the hall before returning to selyse. ❝ it is rather impressive how men can transform grain into an evening's entertainment, is it not ?? ❞ whether she is complimenting them or quietly mocking them remains entirely unclear. that is... until the faintest ghost of a smirk tugs at the corner of heart shaped lips. the mention of riverrun earns only the smallest inclination of her head. children. the word lingers somewhere within her thoughts, though - much like always.... nothing upon carefully composed doll like features betrays it. ❝ i am pleased to hear that. ❞ the sincerity is quiet, though no less genuine. ❝ lively halls are preferable to silent ones, i should think. ❞ she would know - and while that fact remains unsaid... janna allows a delicate smile to grace her lips, doe like eyes locked on the dark hues of the other. ❝ i cannot deny that parchment has one distinct advantage. ❞ dark hues shift then, drifting over the crowd of dancing nobles. ❝ it allows one the luxury of considering every word before surrendering it. conversation is considerably less forgiving. ❞ hands shift, folding neatly in front of her before allowing her gaze to flicker over towards selyse - briefly. ❝ the arbor fares precisely as it always has. ❞ carefully chosen words. comfortably vague. ❝ the vines have not yet developed the sense to stop growing. ❞

[prophxtics]

The image janna painted was amusing enough that the corners of selyse's mouth lifted once more. she had, over the years, witnessed enough meetings and harvest discussions to know there was far more truth in the remark than either of them perhaps wished to admit. "i begin to think grain possesses an influence greater than many lords," quiet laughter warmed the words, "i have seen otherwise sensible men debate its merits with enough passion to negotiate a peace treaty." the thought lingered only briefly before the conversation shifted elsewhere. the mention of lively halls softened her expression instinctively. there was no mistaking the sincerity in janna's reply, and selyse accepted it just as readily. "i believe so too," her voice grew quieter, "although there are evenings when i would gladly trade the noise for an hour's peace." a smile followed almost immediately,

at the mention of letters, she found herself nodding in easy agreement, "they are kinder companions than conversation." her fingers turned the stem of her goblet thoughtfully, "parchment allows us the luxury of reflection. spoken words ask far more courage of us." only then came the answer about the arbor. selyse had long since learned there were some correspondents who filled every page with themselves, and others who revealed far more through what they chose to leave unwritten. janna had always belonged to the latter. "then i am pleased to hear the vines continue to ignore the troubles of the realm," the observation was gentle, her smile no less so, "there is something reassuring in that."

[hellbcunds]

he can't help the smile that twitches at his mouth at her recognition, breaking free despite his attempts to keep it tampered down. it was strange, the way this woman could draw things out of him that few others ever have, could bring about a curiosity that he couldn't ignore when it came to her. " lady arryn. " he reaches for her hand then, raising it to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it, mouth lingering longer than would be deemed appropriate. just like the other day, he's loathe to pull away from her, keeping her hand in his own instead as his brushes his thumb lightly over her knuckles. she'd been a constant figure in his mind's eye since her family was banished from the courtyard, since he'd found her afterwards and softened his words just for her. he notices the way her body seems to shift towards him, like a flower seeking the sunshine, and it does little to drive away the smile from his features.

he chuckles quietly, mouth pulling wider as he keeps his gaze fixed on her own light grey. " i wouldn't describe now being in your presence an interruption, my lady. some might even consider it a blessing. " his tone is measured, more casual than he means it as he considers, not for the first time, the effect she has on him. it was so rare for him to be emotionally affected by someone, so rare for his thoughts to be cast from the plans he was setting into motion. yet the arryn lady had done just that, setting his thoughts into disarray. tharion hums in consideration, allowing dark eyes to slowly roam downwards from her face, over the dress that suits her so perfectly and compliments every inch before flicking upwards again. " you're right. it is the woman wearing it that deserves each and every one of those compliments. " his thumb strokes over her hand again, raising it to his mouth yet again to press a kiss to her pulse point, holding it there as he keeps his gaze on her face. " that is a privilege reserved only for you. " he murmurs it quietly, unable to help himself. " you look so beautiful, olynna. "

[prophxtics]

The smile that had lingered so easily upon her lips faltered the instant he reached for her hand, it was not the gesture itself for she had been greeted with kissed hands more times than she could count throughout her life. it was the way he did it, unhurried, as though there were nowhere else he wished to be. she felt the warmth of his lips against the back of her hand before she felt herself remembering to breathe. when he did not release it immediately, surprise flickered quietly behind grey eye, propriety insisted she ought to reclaim it yet somehow she did not. instead, her fingers remained where they were, resting lightly within his grasp. his thumb brushed across her knuckles sent an altogether unreasonable awareness through her, subtle enough that she almost convinced herself she had imagined it, almost. she lowered her gaze for the briefest of moments, more to steady herself than from modesty. his answer drew another reluctant smile from her, "a blessing?" the words escaped as little more than an amused breath, "i begin to suspect you have set your expectations terribly low, my lord." the teasing came easily enough, yet it lacked its earlier confidence as she felt his eyes and she did not need to follow them to know where they wandered. the realization alone was enough to coax another warmth into her cheeks.

when her gaze finally returned to his, she found him already looking back at her. she should have looked away, she knew she should have. instead she remained there, caught somewhere between courtesy and curiosity, unable to decide which had rooted her more firmly in place. his next words dissolved whatever reply she had been preparing and before she could gather herself, he lifted her hand once more. the second kiss landed not upon her knuckles but against the delicate pulse at her wrist. her breath caught. she felt the steady beat beneath his lips all at once, suddenly and acutely aware of it in a way she never had been before. she wondered if he noticed that it no longer kept quite so measured a rhythm. then he spoke her name, not lady arryn, not my lady. just olynna. she had never imagined a single word could sound so different in another person's voice. "you make it remarkably difficult," a faint laugh escaped her, born as much from embarrassment as amusement, "to know when you are speaking sincerely and when you are simply determined to leave me thoroughly flustered." though even as she said it, she suspected she already knew the answer. it was only that admitting it, even to herself, felt far more dangerous than anything waiting inside the ballroom.

[highonour]

"If most of us had not chosen to dress in the colours and emblems of our houses, anonymity might have been easier to find." Warmth colours the tone of her words, a smile tugging her lips upward, deepening the lines in her face. Perhaps she has something of an advantage, as both a ruling lady and former Hand with a tenure spanning decades—she has been well acquainted with almost the entirety of the realm at some stage or other over the years, and with such an erudite nature, she enjoys patterns and logic more than most, to which recalling faces and voices is no exception. There will, no doubt, be some that will haunt her until the morning, unable to place her finger on who they are or whence they hail, but Gods willing they be few and far between. "It is, I imagine, one of many reasons for it being a masquerade that His Grace decided upon." She keeps her tone even, a veil cast over her words and their true meaning.

[prophxtics]

A quiet hum of agreement escaped her. "perhaps," her gaze wandered briefly across the ballroom, lingering upon a cluster of dancers whose masks concealed little beyond the obvious, "though i wonder if most people truly wished to disappear." there was no judgment in the observation, only quiet curiosity, "i suspect many would rather be recognized without having to introduce themselves." the thought amused her more than she expected. althoughat the mention of the king, her attention returned to the woman beside her. there was something measured in the way she spoke, as though each word had been weighed before being offered. selyse found herself listening more carefully because of it. "i imagine his grace rarely does anything without reason," whether those reasons inspired confidence was another matter entirely. "though i cannot decide whether masks encourage honesty," she paused, watching a pair of masked nobles exchange what appeared to be cordial smiles while their posture suggested anything but affection, "or merely provide people with a more comfortable excuse to say what they had been thinking all along."

[aislamxnto]

for: @prophxtics

location: a small garden within the red keep

The crisp, calm night revived Ursula, whose energies had been dampened by the frenzy of the masquerade; such scenes were not her triumph, as she had little to gain in shinning for others edification. But Selyse, who fixed upon Ursula eyes as shining and round as a pair of beads, looked well suited to the scene --- their coffers were of middling note, but no garb would fail to be rendered beautiful upon her person. "You do me a great kindness by accompanying me here; do not tell the others, but you rank high amongst my kin. And certainly, the title of most beloved in law, belongs to you alone." They were positioned upon a wide stone bench, which offered little comfort, but served a humble purpose; to shelter them, as moonlight began creeping across the blackening sky. She spoke no falsehoods, bestowing praises to her daughter in law as a mere statement of fact. Selyse was blessed with a strength of spirit, one that allowed her to give constant strength and comfort to others. Ursula's time upon this mortal coil was waining --- it gave her great comfort, that Selyse would be left the legacy of her house. "Alas --- it is the topic of marriage which settles upon my heart with a fury; I worry that future matches shall be difficult, on the account of our house's reception here. Alysanne surely speaks to you more freely --- does she share my concerns?"

[prophxtics]

The words settled over selyse with a warmth no fire could have rivaled, for all the years that had passed since she had crossed the threshold of riverrun as a bride, there remained moments that still surprised her. among them was how naturally lady ursula had become like a second mother. not through obligation, nor expectation, but through countless quiet kindnesses that had accumulated over the years until there seemed no other name that suited her. a smile, gentle and entirely genuine, found its way to her lips, "you are very kind to me, mother," the title came as easily as breathing. "though i suspect your children would argue i have only secured such favor by providing you with an army of grandchildren." soft laughter accompanied the remark before her gaze settled upon the garden beyond them. moonlight pooled across the stone paths, silvering leaves that only hours before had been alive with guests wandering between them.

at the mention of alysanne, she shook her head lightly, "she has not, she has always struck me as someone who carries certain worries herself until she is ready to place them into another's hands." her attention returned to ursula, "i would be lying if i said the thought had never crossed my own mind." her voice remained calm, measured as ever. "perception has always held great weight in matters of marriage, sometimes more than truth itself," she let the thought rest between them for a moment, "but i have also learned that reputations have curious ways of changing. today's slight becomes tomorrow's distant memory, particularly when another house finds itself at the center of courtly conversation." she reached over, resting her hand lightly atop ursula's for the briefest of moments. "house tully has weathered more difficult seasons than an uncomfortable visit to king's landing," her eyes softened, "and she, nor the others, would face those conversations alone, they have all of us to stand beside them.

[ofglcry]

he predicted that the raven-haired woman he used to know so well would agree with his sentiments, unwise or not. she had always been intelligent, but she lacked the stick up the ass many nobles who considered themselves intelligent seemed to revere. he surveyed the room by her side, noting the same observation. where there had once been raucousness and a dance floor swirling with hidden faces and swishing skirts, a nervous energy had captured the ballroom. small groups formed about the hall, whispering to one another. you could see the regional and familial divisions, who were the most concerned, and who wished most of all to appear unbothered by the king's decree.

" remarkable, indeed , " he agreed, turning to take in her soft features, even hidden by the mask curving over the top half of her face. it had been a long time since he had seen selyse, ever since she had abandoned the stormlands to join her husband in riverrun.

sebastyn taps the lip of his cup against hers with a nod of agreement. " i do think our dear king is in much need of a good laugh. perhaps then we wouldn't be in such a predicament , " he jests, his eyes alight with mirth as he takes another sip from his cup. " we must scour the land for fools to save us. although i do believe we could begin by looking in this very room , " he suggests sarcastically, his eyes following a red-faced lord stumbling over his own feet in an attempt to reach the outskirts of the room as quickly as his state of drunkenness may allow.

[prophxtics]

The tap of crystal against crystal had scarcely faded before he spoke again, and then she heard it, the voice reached her long before the meaning of the words did. for one impossible heartbeat, everything else seemed to recede. the music, the conversations, even the king seated high above them dissolved into little more than distant noise. years vanished as effortlessly as candle smoke. the stormlands. endless summer afternoons. promises spoken with all the certainty only youth could possess. sebastyn. the realization settled quietly, almost painfully but she did not allow it to show. only the briefest flicker crossed her eyes before her expression settled once more into its familiar composure. whatever surprise had stirred within her had long ago been taught better than to reveal itself before a crowded room. it had been years, long enough that she had become lady tully in every sense of the name, long enough that she had almost forgotten the sound of his voice.

her fingers tightened imperceptibly around the stem of her goblet before relaxing just as quickly. "i fear," she replied, the faint smile returning with practiced ease, "that if we begin searching this room for fools, we may still be here when the musicians have long since gone home." her gaze followed his toward the unfortunate lord weaving uncertainly through the crowd, the corners of her mouth lifting just enough to acknowledge the sight. she lifted her goblet once more, taking a measured sip before allowing her attention to return to the masked gentleman beside her. "still, i suspect it is dangerous to laugh too loudly this evening," there was no fear in the observation, only quiet practicality. "walls have always possessed an unfortunate talent for remembering conversations."

[northernseer]

°❀.ೃ࿔*

THE QUIETER CORNERS OF THE ballroom had always been kinder than its center. the music softens into something distant, swallowed by candlelight and the low murmur of carefully measured conversations. it allowed one to breathe. to observe. to think. gods knew janna favored thinking. dark hues lingered upon the dancers only briefly before drifting instead toward the towering windows overlooking blackwater bay. beneath the moonlight, the water remained wonderfully indifferent to kings and decrees alike. there was something comforting in that. the weight of another's footsteps did little to disturb her thoughts. only the familiar voice did. golden tresses shift with the motion of her body as she turns. a small, genuine smile tugs at the corners of heart shaped lips as dark doe like hues find those of the stormlander born lady tully. ❝ lady selyse. ❞ warmth settles comfortably within the greeting.

there were remarkably few people whose company janna sought willingly. selyse tully nee swann had quietly become one of them through years measured not by shared halls, but by careful ink pressed into parchment. ❝ i fear i would never forgive myself were i to rob you of such riveting conversation. ❞ dry humor spews from the reach born lady with practiced ease, the corners of her lips lifting just enough to betray it. ❝ grain reports seem dreadfully important. i imagine the fate of the realm hangs entirely upon them. ❞ silence settles between the pair for a moment longer than necessary before the lady of the arbor allows her gaze to settle back onto selyse. ❝ tell me… how fares riverrun ?? ❞

[prophxtics]

The greeting drew a smile from selyse almost immediately, "lady janna." there was something quietly reassuring about finding a familiar correspondent amidst a hall filled with concealed faces. for years their acquaintance had lived almost entirely through parchment and wax seals, one carefully considered letter answered by another. somehow, that had always been enough. her laughter came easily at the mention of grain reports. "then i fear the realm is balanced upon considerably duller shoulders than i ever imagined." she lifted her goblet slightly before taking another measured sip, "i am relieved to know i escaped before the discussion turned toward storage conditions."

the question that followed softened her expression, "riverrun fares well." it was the truth, though not the whole of it, "the children keep the halls lively enough that silence has become something of a luxury." a warmth settled naturally into her voice at the thought, "i suspect they have already begun negotiating with whichever unfortunate servant was left in charge of keeping them in bed this evening." amusement lingered for another moment before her attention returned fully to janna. "and the arbor?" there was no idle politeness in the question, only genuine interest. "i feel as though i have read far more of your thoughts than i have heard them these past few years," a small smile touched her lips once more, "i find i rather prefer the latter."

[sherotten]

tsavorite  orbs  watch  the  onyx  locked  beauty  .  by  her  clothing  and  representation  it  was  easy  to  understand  who  she  was  .  a  woman  of  the  riverlands  ,  perhaps  a  tully  ?  as  someone  who  had  studied  all  the  houses  as  a  young  girl  ,  she  could  often  figure  out  who  they  were  with  some  attention  to  their  attire  ,  to  their  mannerisms  and  the  looks  given  to  the  man  upon  their  throne  .  shoulder's  relaxed  a  little  at  the  woman's  soothing  voice  and  the  celtigar  listened  to  every  cultivated  word  she  spoke  .

the  smallest  hint  of  a  twitch  of  her  lip  happened  at  the  mention  of  her  sharpened  mind  and  she'd  take  it  as  a  compliment  .  "  that  is  true  ,  for  we  see  the  glittering  beauty  ,  but  not  the  rats  underneath  the  boards  .  "  her  words  were  gentle  ,  not  loud  or  brash  .  she  didn't  dare  in  case  any  dragon  sharpened  their  ears  .  it  was  a  difficult  position  ,  to  stand  against  a  crown  so  regal  and  formerly  great  ,  but  that  was  it  ..  formerly  .  "  it  is  not  only  me  which  understands  it  seems  lady  swann  ,  it  seems  your  mind  is  as  sharp  as  the  rivers  you  love  too  .  "  compliments  could  get  you  far  ,  and  sometimes  as  far  as  one  needed  .

[prophxtics]

A quiet smile found her lips, "and yet, it is often the smallest creatures that cause the greatest damage when left unnoticed." there was no judgment in her voice, only quiet observation. the evening itself seemed determined to prove the point. beneath silk, music, and polished smiles, the entire hall had become a place where every conversation carried a second meaning. it was only then that the woman addressed her. her almost forgoten name settled over her almost as gently as the music drifting through the hall.

for a heartbeat, surprise flickered across her features before softening into something quieter. she had worn the name tully for so many years now that hearing her maiden name spoken aloud felt strangely distant, like opening a well loved book whose pages still carried the scent of home. a small smile touched her lips, "it has been some time since anyone has called me that." there was no correction offered although the compliment that followed drew a quiet laugh from her. "i fear you overestimate me, my lady. i simply find people infinitely more interesting than decorations." her gaze lingered upon the other woman with renewed curiosity, "though i suspect i have found someone inclined to make the very same observations."

[morsplacida]

already,  kella  knew  that  she  would  need  to  make  her  own  fun.  lacking  any  of  her  books  but  armed  with  a  mask  and  plethora  of  people  that  did  not  know  her,  she  had  began  the  drippings  of  what  she  would  spend  her  time  doing  already.  gossip  where  masks  disguised  faces  and  wine  made  tongues  loose.  she  would  drop  hints  of  her  own,  made  up  off  of  the  top  of  her  head,  to  add  something  more  to  it  all.  in  her  wake  she  would  leave  confusion,  and  grin  like  a  cheshire  if  word  returned  to  her  about  what  seeds  she  had  planted.  olynna  beside  her  would  temper  it  …  for  a  time,  until  they  went  their  separate  ways  where  their  interests  differed. 

“  i  am  in  no  habit  of  lying,  ”  answers,  though  she  had  been  planning  to  do  just  that.  would,  at  least,  never  lie  to  olynna.  chocolate  hues  cast  over  the  other  quickly,  the  quirk  of  her  lips  the  first  that  showed  kella's  distaste.  “  well,  if  you  would  wear  it  with  confidence  you  would  not  be  considered  prey  at  all.  how  do  you  expect  to  for  it  to  look  good  if  you  wear  it  sideways  and  sheepish  ?  ”  she  rather  thought  it  was  a  compliment,  though  perhaps  not.  “  i  have  made  a  promise  that  i  will  do  nothing  within  the  first  few  hours,  though,  there  is  simply  no  telling.  i  will  have  to  see  how  i  feel  between  eating  lemon  cakes  and  playing  hide  and  seek  with  your  brother.  treason  is  such  a  heavy  word  by  the  way,  oly.  ”    

[prophxtics]

Olynna sighed with the long suffering resignation of someone whose hopes had been dashed exactly as expected, "there it is." the gentle smile however did not waver, "i ask one simple question and somehow leave feeling personally criticized." she did, however, lift the mask properly into place, straightening it beneath kella's scrutinizing gaze before looking toward her again. "better?" the answer mattered very little. if kella approved, she would say so. if she did not, she would undoubtedly make that known as well. the mention of confidence earned another quiet laugh. "i shall endeavor to look considerably less like frightened poultry." there was little hope of that lasting once the hall filled completely, but the effort itself counted for something.

at the promise of several peaceful hours, olynna regarded her with unmistakable suspicion. "a promise from you is a remarkably flexible thing " her smile betrayed any attempt at seriousness, "i imagine your definition of 'nothing' and mine differ quite dramatically." the image of any arryn inevitably being dragged into one of kella's schemes was so familiar that it scarcely warranted concern anymore. she then looped her arm lightly through kella's, she leaned in just enough that only the two of them might hear, "and for the record, i only called it treason because 'an unfortunate misunderstanding involving the crown' seemed rather too long." her grin widened, "if we are to become fugitives by morning, i should at least like to have another lemon cake first."

[ofglcry]

sebastyn baratheon ⚔ ( open ! )

the masquerade ball at the red keep ; day five .

Despite all the glimmering of the golden chandeliers and the magnanimous facade the King bore all the way up there on his raised dais with his elaborate dragon mask, Sebastyn saw his rambling speech for what it was; madness and paranoia. When the shocked silence finally broke and the room took to nervous tittering, he couldn't help but let out a brazen guffaw. Were all of the guests here truly bearing witness to the same thing ? It was an accusation at best, a witch hunt at worst, and his wine-addled brain couldn't find anything more amusing in a room full of all of Westeros' most important.

He takes a substantial swallow of his wine before turning to the nearest person to him. " Truth reveals itself eventually, " he repeats in a mockingly low timbre. " How much do you think those maesters will accept to miss a few coppers in their counting ? " he jests, perhaps a bold statement amidst all the fearfully low whispers now floating about the room. As the music picks up again, blanketing all of the sudden tension in a reminder of the former revelry, he tips his cup towards his new companion in a mimicry of a toast. " Whatever soothes the head that bears the crown, right ? "

[prophxtics]

The laugh beside her was so thoroughly at odds with the mood of the hall that it drew selyse's attention before the words themselves ever did. she turned just enough to regard the masked gentleman, the corner of her mouth lifting as she listened to his imitation of the king. bold and perhaps unwise. yet there was an ease to it that felt almost infectious amidst so many carefully measured expressions. she lifted her own goblet in answer to his, "i imagine that depends entirely upon how many coppers they happen to find." the remark was delivered lightly, though quiet amusement lingered beneath it. "though i suspect the maesters are clever enough not to be the first men caught with unusually heavy purses."

her gaze drifted briefly toward the royal dais before returning to him, "it is remarkable, isn't it?" she did not elaborate immediately, allowing the question to settle between them, "how quickly a room can forget it was dancing." the musicians had scarcely faltered before beginning again, yet the conversations had changed entirely. smiles remained where courtesy demanded them, though they no longer reached quite so easily. she raised her goblet a fraction higher, answering his mock toast with one of her own, "to surviving the evening with our ledgers, our dignity, and preferably our sense of humor still intact."

[hellbcunds]

surprisingly to most, tharion enjoyed a ball just as much as he enjoyed a tourney. it was more common to find his features twisted in concentration, weapon in his hand as he faced down an opponent. common to find him splashed in blood with no remorse for the poor soul he'd come across. it's a sharp contrast to now, dressed in red finery with a lion's mask that covered his face just enough to cause doubt, but not enough to conceal him from someone who knew him well. just as hers did not do much to hide the familiar cadence of her walk, the way her hair falls in softly curled tendons down her back. he's not certain though, not yet, and it gives him cause to follow her to the balcony, to observe for a mere moment before he steps out of the shadows and into the light.

" some people enjoy a little mystery. " his voice holds a tease on the edge, corners of his mouth turning upwards as he continues to move forward until he's standing just opposite her, gaze finding her own beneath her mask as that certainty settles in. he could hardly forget such a colour when he'd stared into them mere days ago, a comforting hand covering her own in the wake of her family's dismissal. he can count on one hand the amount of people he truly showed care for, and yet, she'd managed to sneak past those defences and worm her way in. he hated it, hated that feeling, and yet he seeks her out yet again. " is that not why you came out here in the first place, my lady? to deprive us all of he sight of you? " his hand closes on the railing, chin dipped just slightly to look down at her. " though i can't complain about being the only one who gets to take in the sight of you in this dress right now. "

[prophxtics]

The sound of his voice was enough to confirm what she had already suspected and despite herself the corners of her mouth lifted, the expression small but undeniably warmer than it had been only moments before. "lord lannister," there was something strangely reassuring in finding him there. perhaps because over the past days his company had become unexpectedly easy, or perhaps because after everything that had transpired it was simply comforting to stand beside someone who looked at her as though she were olynna before she was an arryn. whatever the reason had been some of the weight she had carried onto the balcony seemed to lessen merely by his presence. she found herself watching as he emerged fully from the shadows, her gaze lingering for a heartbeat longer than propriety allowed. when he came to stand opposite her she did not noticed that she had shifted ever so slightly in his direction as if closing a distance she could not have later explained. it was little more than instinct, as natural as turning toward the warmth of a fire on a cold evening, and just as unconscious.

his first remark earned a quiet laugh, the sound softer than she intended, "then i suppose i have interrupted your enjoyment of it." she watched him step fully into the light, the lion worked into his mask doing remarkably little to disguise the man beneath it. it suited him, she thought, altogether too well. the thought had scarcely settled before his next words caught her entirely off guard and for the briefest moment she simply looked at him as a faint warmth rose uninvited to her cheeks. she lowered her gaze almost instinctively, an altogether futile attempt at collecting herself before looking back up again. "i think," she began carefully, amusement returning in quieter form, "you may be giving the dress considerably more credit than it deserves." the smile lingering upon her lips betrayed her efforts at composure, "though i suspect my lord has acquired a reputation for generosity where compliments are concerned." her head tilted ever so slightly, grey eyes meeting his once more, "or is that a privilege reserved only for ladies who have abandoned perfectly respectable celebrations in favor of lonely balconies?"

[ladycfhearts]

── .✦ “With that we can agree,” Alysanne laughed softly. “They inherited every ounce of their stubbornness from my brother.” She stepped further into the room, affectionately brushing a loose curl away from Circe's face before straightening again. “Though I suspect Circe learned that sweet smile from me.”

Alysanne looked down at herself with exaggerated consideration before giving a theatrical twirl, the ivory silk of her gown sweeping lightly around her ankles as the pearls adorning it caught the candlelight. “Do I not look like it?” She stopped with a grin, the pendants at her sleeves and neckline settling with a gentle chime. “If this evening proves disappointing after all this preparation, I shall hold the Crown personally responsible.”

[prophxtics]

The answer drew a quiet laugh from selyse, one born as much from relief as amusement. "although your brother would insist they inherited it from me," she replied, shaking her head lightly, "though i suspect he says so only because he is greatly outnumbered."her gaze followed alysanne's hand as it brushed the curl from circe's face, the little girl stirred only enough to nestle further into the blankets before settling once more, the sight softened her expression instinctively. "that smile is entirely yours," she conceded, "heaven help us all when she realizes just how much she can accomplish with it."

at alysanne's theatrical turn, another laugh escaped her, warmer this time, "you look beautiful." there was no hesitation in the compliment, it was spoken with the certainty of someone who had watched the younger woman grow into herself over the years. her attention drifted briefly toward the mask resting beside her before she reached to pick it up, turning it slowly between her hands. "i only hope the evening gives us reason to remember it fondly," she glanced back toward alysanne the corners of her mouth lifting once more. "though knowing this family..." a quiet breath of laughter accompanied the thought, "i suspect we shall all have a story to bring back to riverrun before the night is over."

[prophxtics]

closed starter for lord petyr arryn; arryn's quarters before masquerade — @illuminvtes

The arryn's chambers felt quieter than the rest of the keep, even with distant music bleeding faintly through stone walls, the private quarters offered some measure of relief from the proving eyes. beyond the doors, the realm celebrated beneath candlelight and lies. there, at least, there was honesty. olynna stepped outside her chamber already dressed for the evening, though her mask remained in her hands rather than upon her face. gold embroidery caught the warm light as she moved, the fabric of her gown whispering softly against the floor but her attention found her father almost immediately. the slight tightening around her eyes did not come from his mood alone, she had seen him after the tournament, seen the way he carried himself, the strain hidden beneath stubbornness and pride. she knew pain when she saw it.

"how is the knee?" the question came gently, though she suspected she already knew the answer and suspected even more strongly that whatever answer he gave would be less than truthful. she lingered near him for a moment, fingers tightening slightly around the mask in her hands. when she finally spoke again, the softness had changed. "father," the word came quieter now, more careful as her gaze lowered briefly to the carved edge of the mask before lifting once more, "i do not think we should stay." there was no preamble, only honesty, "i think we should return to the vale." the words came with more conviction now that they had been spoken aloud, "are we truly expected to dress in silks and masks and smile as though nothing has happened?" her voice never rose, if anything it grew quieter which somehow made it heavier. "i wish we had never come to king's landing at all."

[illuminvtes]

petyr’s mouth twitched at the question, though the answer was written plainly enough in the way he leaned more heavily than he ought to have upon his cane.

“my knee? still functional,” he said lightly, giving his knee a pat as though it were a particularly stubborn horse, barely masking a flinch at the sharp pain that shot up to his hip at the action. “though i daresay it has developed a personal grudge against me.”

there was a faint smile beneath the words, but it thinned when olynna went on. his gaze settled on her then, sharp despite the ease of his expression, and for a moment the noise of the building crowd beyond their chambers seemed very far away indeed.

“i know,” he said at last, quieter than before. “and if i had my way, i should have liked to ride back to the vale the moment we crossed the city gates despite my temporary optimism on how this week would go.”

he let out a breath through his nose, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

“you are not wrong, my dear. there is something deeply absurd about dressing half the realm up like dolls and pretending that makes the rot beneath prettier to look at.” his eyes flicked to the mask in her hands. “king’s landing has never cared much for honesty, but it still asks us to be polite while it lies to our faces.”

petyr shifted his weight, jaw tightening briefly before he smoothed the expression away.

“but we are here now,” he said, not unkindly. “and leaving isn't an option. even if we packed our bags, i doubt the king would open the gates for us. not before we swear fealty again during that big ceremony he seems to have planned."

a beat passed before he added, dryly, “and as for my knee, worry not. i will persist out of spite if nothing else.”

then, with a small tilt of his head toward the door, he gave her one of those bright, dangerous little smiles of his.

“come on, then. if we are to suffer king’s landing, we may as well do it with our heads held high. here, help me with this damned mask. i felt ridiculous when i tried it on for your mother and need you to validate how big a fool i look.”

[prophxtics]

Her gaze drifted almost immediately toward the cane lingering there just long enough to catch the flinch he had tried so unsuccessfully to disguise. it earned him a look she had perfected years ago, one reserved exclusively for family members who insisted they were perfectly well while actively proving otherwise. "i see," she replied with all the solemnity of a healer delivering a grave diagnosis, "then i shall be certain to address all future correspondence to your knee directly. perhaps it will prove more cooperative than its owner." the corners of her mouth lifted, though only briefly and it faded again just as quickly. there was a strange comfort in hearing him agree with her. some small hopeful part of her had expected him to tell her she was overreacting, that there was still good to be found in remaining at court, some purpose she had failed to see through her disappointment. instead, he confirmed what she had already known. they endured because they had no other choice.

her thumb traced the carved edge of her mask in slow, absent circles. "i know," she admitted quietly, "i only wish understanding that made it any easier." it never seemed to, his request, however, earned exactly the reaction he had intended. a quiet laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "there you are," she looked up at him again, warmth returning to her expression, "i was beginning to think the tournament had knocked all your good humor clean out of you." stepping closer, she accepted the mask from his hands without hesitation, turning it this way and that with exaggerated concentration. she adjusted one side, then the other, humming thoughtfully as though the matter required the utmost precision. then a long, theatrical pause, "i fear i have unfortunate news." her lips twitched, "you look exactly as you ought to." she reached up to straighten the edge of the mask one final time before smoothing an imaginary crease from his collar. "which is terribly disappointing, i had hoped you might look at least a little ridiculous." only then did she step back to admire her work. "mother would say it suits you, and i must say she is hardly ever wrong."