“ you are far too kind, ser. i promise, i shall carry the fault alone for my untimely spill,” maeve takes his hand with a sheepish smile, embarrassed that she’d fallen in front of the other man. “ do you often catch falling ladies, lord..” the woman trails off, flushing slightly as she recalls that she does not recognize the stranger. “ perhaps i bumped my head when i fell, are you a figment of my imagination? a dashing knight who charms ladies after he catches them does seem like a being i would dream of,” she jests, giving a polite curtesy in thanks to the man for helping her back up, hands brushing off the dust.
“But now what are we to do now that we are at an impasse where we both refuse to let blame go to the other?” Russal’s words came easily after a lifetime of doing his best to learn the right thing to say at the right time. When he was younger and cared about the opinions of court he’d done his best to be a charmer until he’d realized that nobles cared little about the pretty words from one’s mouth and more about lineage. “I’m aspiring to the Kingsguard,” he offered as if it were explanation before carrying on. “So I suppose you could consider catching falling ladies to be my occupation.” There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as the endearing nature of the woman made for comfortable rapport. “Do you often daydream of knights come to catch you, then?” he teased. “Though I’m not sure I can speak for the dashing bit.”
the caron let out a breathy laugh at the other’s jest, relieved that the man had chosen to not speak mention of their shared connection, a small mercy granted. “ have i been hiding, or are you simply not as skilled at finding others as you believe yourself to be? the months apart have weakened your senses, we shall have to correct that soon.” he stepped forward to pull the younger man into a brief embrace, patting his back fondly. “ you make me feel older each time you call me that, russal. it is good to see you again as well,” it was a comfort to see one he considered famnily in new valyria. “ is your rogare charge keeping you on your feet?”
The grin that shown on his face was perhaps the most genuine one he’d born since arriving in Staerdale though it wasn’t a surprise that it had been Wyllas who pried it from Russal. “I’m sure if I were not as skilled at finding others it would be a shortcoming of those that taught me rather than my own. Is that correct?” It was the closest he would get to teasing the man that had instructed him in most of what he knew, respecting Wyllas far too much to truly make fun. There was no hesitation while he returned his mentor’s embrace, but his smile faded into vague annoyance at the mention of the woman he was meant to guard. The smallest of groans worked its way through him while he knew Wyllas was one of the only nobles he would impart such honest words to. “She’s taken to running off without so much as a warning. Just the other day I had to chase her through Staerdale like a septa after her ward.”
the addition of a westerosi guard had been unexpectedly imposed upon the small household of servants that larra commanded just as the ships had begun to drag up their anchors to set sail for new valyria. larra had done all that was humanely possible to resist the kind gesture but it had been for naught and she had sullenly boarded the ship with him at her back. there had been little for her to do when surrounded by the open ocean ─ though she was antagonistic by nature, she was also not so foolish as to set about annoying people much stronger than her who may or may not be driven to tossing her overboard if she crossed a line. that meant that her guard ( some nobody with aspirations to join the kingsguard, she had been told ) had seen a tamer side to her during the long voyage but larra was determined to be rid of him one way or another, and if she could not get them to agree that she did not need a guard, then she was determined to make him quit.
it had begun with small acts of rebellion ─ pranks and short disappearances to see how he would react but she had been waiting for the moment when his gaze would drift to a corner and had seized the very first chance she got to run off in an opposite direction, lithe figure darting between the columns of the hallway like the serpent that her moniker had derived from. ❝ be still ? ❞ the words were thrown over her shoulder in the midst of her giggles, feet thundering down the stairs. ❝ i am not a dog that you can call to heel, ser ! ❞ it would be easier for him if she were. jerking to a brief halt, she listened for the sound of his chase and ran in the direction of the most noise, slippered feet sliding against the polished floors. her arms flailed in the air, the silks of her dress giving her little cushion as she fell into a thud on the ground for her efforts, landing on her rump with a small noise of pain.
When the pranks and absences had begun, Russal wondered about whether the court gossip surrounding the Dondarrion family had already managed to reach Larra’s ears despite their short time in Staerdale. It would make sense if she was displeased at having been paired with the son of a known criminal- even if it was the adopted son. The nobles loved to claim that even if the apple didn’t fall directly from the tree- a fruit raised near it would still be cast in its shadow. But something told him that this wasn’t the case as she shot playful remarks over her shoulder while he gave chase. His jaw grit against the words he wished to say, remembering that anything he yelled would be heard by anyone in the halls they were dashing amongst. But once he reached her and could speak quietly enough to be heard only by her ears...he could not speak for how well his restraint would hold.
Russal’s pace quickened when she disappeared behind a corner and a sound of injury rose from the woman he was pursuing. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath while he slid around the same corner she’d disappeared behind. If she was hurt he had no doubt he’d be shining boots for every soldier in the castle as punishment. For a moment his annoyance was gone, instead replaced by concern and demanding words. “Are you alright, my lady?” He did a quick sweep of the area, looking for phantom enemies and blades that did not appear while his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Now his eyes narrowed on the woman sprawled on the floor while he took in the awkward positioning of her body. “Are you telling me that you...fell?” The muscles along his jaw worked overtime in an attempt to hide the smirk that tried to free itself, a part of him all too satisfied at her finding a karmic end to her antics. A glimmer of amusement managed to slip into his gaze while he dipped to carefully place large hands on either side of Larra’s waist. Then he was lifting her to her feet only to notice one of her slippers lying nearby. It must have come loose when she’d taken her spill. “It looks as if you’ve lost something, Lady Rogare.”
hidden behind the shelves and stacks of books, the allyrion felt like he could breath, something he desperately needed given recent events. however, unlike normally he found that he couldn’t immerse himself in the book before him, mind drifting to a certain someone against his wishes, and thus, he remained aware of his surroundings. it was why he noticed the person lingering in front of one of the shelves for a particularly long time. ❝ are you looking for a particular book or simply an interesting one? ❞ either way, he might be of some help after spending hours in the library.
A half smile pulled at Russal’s lips when Trystane finally saw fit to acknowledge the presence of another living being. He knew it’d be a toss up of whether the man would notice him at all when he was surrounded by texts, but it seemed the Allyrion had proven him wrong. “I was simply wondering how long it would take you to notice someone nearby. You did better than last time- I’ll give you that.” He wouldn’t yet mention how it was entirely unsafe for Trystane to let himself be so distracted by books that he sometimes let his surroundings blur into nothingness. Russal was rather convinced anyone could sneak up on the lord and catch him unawares should Trystane be caught up in a library.
seven months away had hardly been enough for the baratheon who’d spent the large portion of his past time at court wrongly imprisoned. he bore it with more composure this time, but his patience was still a thin thread. this afternoon it felt very close to snapping. so like an archer who needed to restock his arrows, stefan retreated to a secluded area of the gardens. luck was, however, rarely on his side when at court because he’d only been alone for a few minutes before he heard someone approaching from behind. ❝ i’m not in the best mood for small talk. ❞ while his sea remained clam, there was an undercurrent of tension to his voice.
Russal had followed Stefan from a safe distance after recognizing the air of tension that had his childhood friend’s shoulders in a death grip. He recognized that stance, and had gone after the man to ensure that the Baratheon didn’t get himself into trouble. Such had always been the way of things between them with Stefan looking for trouble, and Russal trying to make sure he didn’t end up face down in a ditch. Of course...there were also the times when Stefan succeeded in convincing Russal to mischief- and then they would both end up face down in a ditch...though it would be with twin grins on their faces. “My mistake,” Russal began in a patient tone that was laced with a trace of a tease. “I did not realize it was time for your regularly scheduled brooding hours.”
if you had to choose a single person to kiss to save your own life, who would it be?
"Is there a time limit on when I'll die? Do I have to kiss someone...quickly?" He ponders over the question and why someone would ask such a bizarre thing while his mind drifts in unwanted directions about pretty people he'd seen around Westeros and otherwise. Waving away thoughts of midnight spars and otherwise he finally comes up with an acceptable answer. "I suppose whoever's closest and willing to receive a kiss would be my answer."
do you have less pure intentions towards lady Rogare?
Russal should have expected such a question. The minds and mouths of the nobility were often filthier than a pig sty and prone to wagging. Still he could not keep the flash of protective irritation from flitting over his face. "I'll pretend as if I did not hear your question as a mercy and suggest you don't repeat it again if you wish to live the rest of your days in one piece." Yes, Larra was a thorn in his side most of the time...but she was still his to protect. He wouldn't allow such gossip to be spread about her. They could say what they wanted of him and his family, but his Lady Rogare was off limits.
As for his intentions...they were as pure as untouched and freshly fallen snow. After all intentions were generally thoughts intended to be acted upon. He would have had to be blind not to take note and react to Lady Larra's beauty, but he had a job to do- and he refused to ruin his chances because of one pretty and spirited girl.
Are there any of house Caron that you actually like?
"House Caron are my allies in arms." The answer comes in a near instant with little to no hesitation. "And Lord Wyllas has given me more than I could ever repay. He's one of the men I trust most in Staerdale if not the one I trust most. I'm unsure where you might have heard that I harbored any ill will towards the Carons, but I'd be in your debt if you told me." If there were nobles spreading rumors about the Caron he wants to know so that he might stomp them out.
closed starter for ( @stcrfrost , @caelestiaes , @aurorecaron, @russaldondarrion , @crvwnfought , @lilachymns, @anyone else who wants to reply tbh ) per posted in starter calls ! )
maeve was admittedly lost to her own thoughts, wandering the halls of staerdale, she’d never visited the vale before the arryns passing and the shift to it’s new title. new valyria. what an odd feeling to know that the crown had wiped away an entire legacy in a single moon’s time. how replaceable they all seemed to be to their king. the woman stumbled into another, tripping over her own feet and sprawling onto the ground. “ i apologize, i fear i was not paying attention,” she spoke, groaning low as she lifted herself up off the ground slightly.
Concern immediately furrowed Russal’s brow as he bent to help the lady to her feet in a move that was nearly reflexive. “Are you alright, my lady?” he asked while giving her a once over and trying to determine if he’d met her before. “No- I’m certain I was the one at fault.” He was certain he was not, but he’d been raised to always take the burden from a lady whether it was physical or the emotional embarrassment at having been caught off balance. “In fact, I should also apologize for not being able to catch you before you fell.” Truly, his reaction time should have been better considering Larra’s new affinity for sprinting off at the drop of a hat. “Where were you headed?”
closed starter for ( @drummsinthedeep , @caelestiaes , @sncwfallen , @russaldondarrion , @crvwnfought )as requested in starter calls!
wyllas had his back to the stable entrance, far more focused on his task of inspecting his horse’s hooves to notice anyone else. “ are you not looking like the most beautiful mare in all of staerdale today,” he murmured softly to the horse, breathy laugh escaping when she seemingly replied back to him with a noise. the stint he’d done with the baratheons the past few months had taught him far more than he ever anticipated about caring for horses, not that he disapproved. it gave him something else to pour care in to and distract himself with. “ i must tell you about,” the words die on his lips as a shadow blocks the sun that was shining through in through the entrance. his gaze swings from horse to the person standing there, staring for a beat too long before speaking. “ ah, hello. were you looking for something?”
It seemed the Russal was just in time to catch the words Wyllas had most likely intended for privacy. And thought Wyllas Caron was a man he held in an esteem above most others, he couldn’t resist prodding a bit at his mentor. “Is this where you’ve been hiding? In the stables wooing the mares?” He knew better than to make any serious comments about the other man’s love life. Even if he thought it prudent to do so, he doubted he’d be any help. Russal had proven rather disastrous when it came to matters of the heart thus far. “Lord Wyllas- it’s good to see you again,” he continued fondly, finding comfort in the fact that one of the men he trusted most was in residence.
their attempts at training in the yard before daybreak had been unsuccessful, constantly getting interrupted it seemed by others. they longed for the peace that their routine brought, longing not for the first time to be back on ship once more to return home. the idea has struck out of nowhere, violet waiting till the moon was at its brightest to sneak from her chambers to the training yard. at first glance, they rejoiced, relieved to be entirely alone in the yard. or at least so they thought. eyes had entirely missed the man in the shadows upon first glance. violet quickly rid themselves of their cloak, tossing the garment aside in barely concealed excitement. as they reached to unsheathe the sword on their hip, a familiar voice rang out through the yard. her head whipped around quickly till her eyes landed on a man she’d not seen in quite some time.
they’d known each other more in passing, both friends of her former cousin, though never close enough for her to seek him out. “ russal,” they return, crossing their arms at his reaction to her. as if they are a ghost who’s returned to haunt him. violet takes deliberate steps closer towards him, wishing to see the man clearer in the moonlight. “ i prefer to train in the morning but it has been far too crowded as of late,” thry let out a tiny frustrated sigh, resembling for a moment more kitten than fierce warrior with blade on hip. violet stares at him for a moment, considering why he may also be here this late. “ do you often train in the dead of night? i presumed you’d be training with all the other guards. certainly you are not training twice, no?” a sarcastic remark bites at her tongue but she holds it within, out of kindness for the friend they once share. it barely wins against her desire to see him squirm uncomfortably.
Russal’s gaze follows the motion of the cloak for a split second before his it flicks back to Violet- wanting to see what had been unveiled now that they’d shed the garment. His eyes began a familiar trail south from her face before he caught himself, and with a clear of his throat he tore it away. For some inexplicable reason he’s torn between taking wary steps back and eager strides forward when they begin their approach, and he realizes that the torches had sold her short when the full light of the moon hits them. Instead of following his gut or head he simply stand there, stubbornly fixing his eyes back to their face and refusing to let them wander as they wished to do.
When the kitten comes out he can’t help the twinge that plays at the corner of his lips, trying to tug them into a half grin. This was more in line with her he remembers her. A ball of fluff armed with claws and a hiss that spoke of thinking oneself to be invincible. It’d been amusing when they’d met but now it bordered on endearing. “Of course. A fearsome warrior such as yourself shouldn’t sully themselves with the crowds.” Something about the way they moved spoke of their ability to handle themselves and a sword. He had no doubt about their skill based on the swagger of their body. Still...he was rather certain that she’d always been fun to rile. Nevertheless he gives her a genuine answer. “Sometimes I train twice.” He punctuates the sentence with a shrug as if to say that training twice would be the least the Kingsguard could ask of him. “But today’s not one of those days.”
There were many a knight and soldier who had the bright idea of rising early to take advantage of a quiet and uncrowded training yard. Unfortunately too many of them seemed to have the same idea, and Russal had often found the yards far more packed in the morning than they’d been when he was younger. Funnily it made for quiet nights in the yard, and Russal took advantage of this by taking his sword and going through the motions when the moon was high in the sky. Generally he was alone, but as he heard a set of footsteps approaching he paused his exercises to see who else had noticed that practicing by moonlight was the best time for swordplay.
It was a woman, that was obvious enough by the way the moonlight seemed to cradle the gentle curve of her hips. He gave her a respectful nod of greeting. “It looks as if we’ve had similar ideas, my lady.” It wasn’t until a flickering torch passed over her features that Russal was struck with recognition, and he blinked once...twice in his surprise before her name rolled clumsily off his tongue. “Violet?” Surprise was written all over the rising of his brows and widening of eyes. This wasn’t the young girl he remembered trotting after Euron and vice versa. Instead she’d come into her sword and features just as he had over the past four years. He would have thought that even the way she walked was changed, but if he were being honest he hadn’t taken note of her old stride. It took a long moment to recover from the stunning revelation, and a few seconds longer to think of something semi-intelligent to say. “Do you practice this late as well?”
Russal’s mad dash for Larra had indeed held the witnesses he’d been worried about, and far more than he would have preferred. Perhaps the most embarrassing attendee had been the crown prince himself, and after the Kingsguard hopeful had managed to find a moment alone he’d immediately gone to seek out Prince Daemon. The guard standing outside the Prince’s study was quick to announce Russal’s presence, and soon enough he was being admitted into the room.
For a moment Russal stood awkwardly, unsure how to pose the topic of conversation to Daemon. They’d met a few times in passing, and the prince had proven to be far less imposing and stuffy than Russal had anticipated. Still...he couldn’t rid himself of the knowledge that he was much lower on the nobility ladder than most visitors the prince would be accumsted to. Normally he wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but he’d found that the prince was someone he wanted to impress. But no doubt his wild good chase after Larra had done everything except impress. Finally he found his footing and spoke. “Prince Daemon- I wanted to apologize for the...event you witnessed earlier today. The one concerning myself and the Lady Rogare.”
All it had taken was a single moment for everything to go to chaos- a single breath for the blue beauty to sense that his gaze had wandered to the nearby door instead of landing on her person. Perhaps she’d been waiting for this exact opportunity...or maybe Larra had seized the moment in a rush of impulsivity. Either way she was off like a bullet, and there was a split second of Russal looking utterly dumbstruck before his legs caught up with his brain. “Lady Rogare!” he called out as a knee-jerk reaction when he finally sprinted into action. “Lady Rogare, be still!” A part of him winced to command such a high ranking lady, but surely him being her guard counted for something?
She was not still. The pattering of her pretty and expensive shoes continued throughout the halls as he lengthened his stride, and a flicker of annoyance began to ignite within him. Was this her latest ploy in the string of childish antics she’d begun? Larra had been tame enough on the ship they’d sailed on, but then again...there was little trouble for her to get into on an isolated hunk of wood in the middle of the ocean.
With any luck he’d capture her before they reached a public venue. Russal could already imagine the embarrassment he’d face at the jibing and sharp tongues of his fellow guards should they witness him running after Larra through Staerdale like a septa after her ward. But this brought about another conundrum. How was he meant to seize her? There was no apparent danger to use as an excuse for reaching out to grab the woman. How else was he meant to stop her from running?
╰ ┈ [ ryan corr, 27 , cisgender man , he/him ] in the time of dragons , russal dondarrion is entering the game of thrones . said to be dedicated + reliable , we can only hope that is the case as regrettably they are also well known to be dogmatic + rigid . when asked about them , people are always reminded of the boulder that splits a stream, the smell of freshly polished boots, gritted teeth and a tensed jawline, and the burning desire to prove oneself . though they are the lord of blackhaven , their true loyalties lie with house baratheon and dondarrion and rumour has it that if given the choice they would support the prince of dragonstone / their family above all else . those of us in the shadows wish them luck and can only hope they will survive what is to come .
B A S I C S :
NAME: russal dondarrion.
TITLE: lord of blackhaven.
AGE: 27.
PRONOUNS: he/him.
HEIGHT: 6′1″.
BIRTHPLACE: blackhaven, the stormlands.
RELIGION: the faith of the seven.
S U M M A R Y :
russal was adopted along with his twin sister at the young age of five years old, and only has vague memories of his birth family.
he was always a rather serious child, often said to be mature for his age
perhaps this was because he was often shunned by his peers due to his tendency to call their imaginary games ‘unrealistic’. there weren’t many who wanted to play with him, but that was fine with him.
he was something of an ugly duckling, not getting much attention from any gender growing up in terms of attractiveness. it wasn’t until he was around eighteen that he began to grow into the looks that had been too harsh on a child’s face, but rather becoming on that of a grown man’s.
suddenly he was getting far more attention than he knew what to do with, but went along with it and had no shortage of bed partners for a year or two.
there were two instances that proved to be a wake up call. one being that he hadn’t realized that one of his bed partners had begun to develop feelings, and he’d accidentally led him on. he’d found russal coming from the bed of another and was given a nasty shock having been under the impression that Russal returned his affections.
meanwhile- the person he’d shared the bed with (a long time crush of his) made it rather clear that they’d only been interested in him for his good looks rather than anything that lay below them. (wanted connection) so it was plain to see he was rather bad at this whole romance thing, and has since decided to avoid it entirely.
the cold shoulder he received while growing up extended further than other children his age. for as long as he can remember his family had been looked down upon by the rest of the nobility. for some it was because of the humble beginning house dondarrion came from, having been nothing more than lowborn messengers when the storm king saw fit to raise them to noble status.
beyond their humble beginnings, their status and standing was only made worse by the fact that their father was a well-known sellsword. his lack of honor was often conflated with the rest of his family, and there weren’t many who wished to rub elbows with such a disreputable family.
this was a part of the reason russal took it upon himself to train for the kingsguard from a young age. after all the gold cloaks were among some of the most respected in the land. he and his family would be untouchable. perhaps his sisters might even make respectable matches if he rose to their ranks.
his father raised him to take on the ‘family business’ as a sellsword, and russal went so far as to accompany the former ruling lord on a few of his contracts. but it didn’t take long for russal’s morals to get in the way of his desire to please his dad. it was the first mission he’d gone on that included innocents, and it was quickly revealed he didn’t have the stomach for such things. so while his father was busy, he released those that they’d taken prisoner, hiding the truth from his father.
despite this and his disapproval of his father’s profession, russal loved his dad. he was everything a father should be even thought his profession left much to be desired.
russal had arrived in king’s landing only for the prince’s wedding and witnessed the fall of the red keep. it was here that he found out a secret he’d rather never had learned, and keeps close to his chest- hiding it from everyone and even those closest to him.
his father died in the attack on the red keep, making the new ruling lord of dondarrion a freshly anointed one.
now russal is in his final steps towards becoming a member of the kingsguard, and has been tasked with the protection of larra rogare as one of his final tests.
W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S :
the person who’s heart he accidentally broke: this was the connection mentioned in the previous bullet points! they were sleeping together, and they thought there were feelings and potentially exclusivity involved. Russal was under no such impression but unintentionally strung them along due to his lack of experience with romantic feelings. the other person found him coming from the bed of another.
the bed he came from: this goes a bit with the previous connection! this was someone russal most likely had a childhood crush on but had never won the attention of until he became more handsome. he thought them sleeping together would be the beginning of a beautiful relationship. he was....wrong. the other person wasn’t interested in anything more than a fling and told russal as much.
father’s sins: i’d LOVE to have connections with people who potentially employed his father as a sellsword, OR fell victim to one of his father’s crimes!
kingsguard members: he wants to be in the kingsguard and has been working towards it! gimme them kingsguards!
old soul: as mentioned, russal didn’t mesh well with people his age while he was young. he often found himself in the company of adults instead. so this could be any people decently older than him that knew him while he was younger and indulged him while he did his best to sit with the adults!
