after boris morrigen was discovered to be the culprit, her own judgement did not wait for that of the king. curiousity fell from tense shoulders and all she wished was to leave, as she knew that nothing awaiting them, whether it was house morrigen or any emotions stirred up, would find a pretty end. however, only after the gruesome execution she finally managed to go home. not that of house hightower but her own. feigning deep shock about the events, she insisted on needing a break and some time with her family on the iron islands. there she remained months ( also faking sickness so she could stay longer ), and was simply content. anyone questioning her prolonged stay was met with a blank stare or being ignored.
lelia lannister
though not visibly shaken and still acting as usual, lelia found herself oddly paranoid. when she returned home to lannisport, she'd follow her family members everywhere ( whether in secret or pestering them to allowing her to accompany them ), as if she wanted to catch them first before anyone else could. not because she wanted to use it against them or anything but to make sure she could protect them, in case they'd be suspected of anything. after the paranoia had settled, and became steady, following the same rhythm as the blood pumping through her heart, she eventually figured that she needed a break from everything. she urged her parents to allow her to travel, any place far away, as she wanted to return less shaken and detached from the events.
( matilda de angelis, cis woman, she/her ) HARK! I believe the heralds are announcing the arrival of YRSA HIGHTOWER NEE GREYJOY, the 35 year old, RULING LADY of HOUSE HIGHTOWER OF OLDTOWN. They are known to hold loyalty towards THEIR HOUSE and little birds sing of them being PERCEPTIVE & DUTIFUL. When one dreams of them, images of “head bowed in prayer despite sin on your hands, bending every rule just enough to get away with it, scarlet lips bleeding tantalizing lies, the raw instinct to survive” comes to mind. However their BLUNT and INSENSITIVE nature can make for difficult times. Time will only tell what their true intentions are.
name: yrsa hightower nee greyjoy . nickname(s): none she’ll accept anyway. age: 35. gender: cis woman. pronouns: she/her. sexual orientation: bisexual. religion: not actively practicing . title: ruling lady hightower.
faceclaim: matilda de angelis. hair color: dark brown. eye color: blue. height: 166 cm. body modifications: scar on her right upper arm, from some kind of treatment tested on her.
character alignment: true neutral. positive traits: dutiful, loyal, persuasive, indepentent. negative traits: insensitive, aloof, scheming, sarcasitc. character parallels: mary crawley, emily gilmore, olenna tyrell, nico robin
𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲
tw: sickness, illness
with a name supposed to weigh gold, it is as if it only were ever supposed to drag yrsa down to the bottom of the ocean. as if since birth, the whole of the iron islands wanted to reject her.
when yrsa first opens her eyes, no one expects her to live. she isweak ( a word she wanted to detach from the bones of a greyjoy ) and the only strength she can muster is to suppress her tears. she’d always consider it her only and desperate act of defiance, a small line separating her from the convergence to death.
her childhood floats in fog. mostly she’s alone, and if she isn’t, her memories are fuzzy, merging her family into one figure. her bed is the sea, a faint smile would need to serve as careless laughter. she’s doesn’t dare to dream. she doesn’t dare to be envious of her brothers.
the medicians call it a miracle when her condition improves. some even claim it was the gods. but never herself. as if she wasn’t the one suffering, as if it wasn’t sheer determination and the fear that she’d lose everything before she could even muster the strength to hold onto it. in the end, it doesn’t really matter. she’s been useless all the time, and worse she’s been a burden. but she wants to prove that her birth wasn’t sheer luck, a cruel trick on her family, but that she was born lucky. that one day she’d be more than a greyjoy that barely survived herself.
her life being determined by her sickness, has somehow rendered her as odd. when speaking to others, she doesn’t know what to say. she’s blunt ( with even ironborns noticing ), insensitive and sometimes even cruel ( perhaps because she never knew how to be gentle to herself ) but she doesn’t know better. still, none of this matters at all, and she’s alone again. wondering what she even survived for.
as she grows older and hopefully wiser, yrsa learns to use her words, twist them to her advantage while keeping a perfect facade. she doesn’t need physical strength, only a mind that can keep up with it. she’s still known to be detached and calculating, proud and arrogant. but people can still respect her for her mind and determination, and perhaps this is what it meant to be a greyjoy for her.
when yrsa is said to marry, she doesn’t protest. she doesn’t say anything at all, even though she wants to stay, knowing that they would only ever replace a name, never a family . yet, the island has tried to push her off her whole life, and if she leaves, she at least wants to leave with a purpose. a meaning, that she somehow contributed to make the home, she was forced to leave, a better place.
in the end nothing matters but her own survival and that of those who matter to her. all her life she’s relied on prayers, on people trying to fix your health. never on herself, but it’s time, and she refuses to be broken by anything else.
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧s
yrsa will put her family above everything else. although she slowly begins to care about the hightowers, she still feels a little misplaced and does long for home (explaining her frequent visits to the iron islands) and thus her priority are the greyjoys.
she is very bad at remembering faces, she'll often mix up names or straight up not recognize people, if she'd only met them briefly. it adds to her being perceived as arrogant, but yrsa does not really care.
she's vain, stemming from the fact that she used to be a sickly child, and now that she's associating her appearance with sickness. she does have an extensive beauty and bathing routine which does take her at least an hour.
yrsa is afraid of horses, due to some accident happening to her in the past.
as she was sick, she read a lot on medicine and all the like, as she was trying to heal herself. while it gave her some great deal regarding this field, she also somehow found her way into learning about poisons due to that. yrsa is not above poisoning other people, if needed.
travelling long distances makes her sick, most of the time when she is forced to travel long distances, she's mostly passed out or will take several breaks and be a menace about it.
𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
scheming friends : someone who loves to scheme with her. they share some sort of friendship but are still wary of each other, as they know what the other is capable of.
good old fashioned enemy connection: yrsa is not exactly known for being a warm person and is constantly dropping snarky remarks or is being pretty blunt. they could dislike her for that reason or others.
her best friend she'd known since her childhood. they might've grown up together on the iron islands or met once, and they've exchanged letters since then.
someone who does come to her when they're in need of poison. this could be a secret exchange or they meet each other in secret, their faces hidden, not knowing each others identities
someone who does know about some secret of hers and now blackmails her with it.
someone yrsa is blackmailing as they know some secret of them
a former lover ( maybe potential ex betrothed) she just cut off as soon as she was said to marry into the hightower family. she did love them, but her desire to wanting be useful, led her to abandon that person without any explanation.
"Foul hellbeasts—I will send you to the depths where you belong!" Shrieks of laughter rang out into the air as Manon was surrounded, the knight beaming as she sparred with some of the children of King's Landing with wooden swords. Her son was among the fray, attacking her joyfully while working with his friends to overpower Ser Hightower. With how high the tensions were after the hunt, she knew that the children were also beginning to be affected by the fear and worry hanging in the air like smoke. As a member of the Kingsguard, she was dutybound to ensure safety to the citizens. This included the youngest members of their society.
Fortunately, picking up a playful sparring match in a clearing in King's Landing seemed to help with that. And as a crowd watched, laughter and smiles coming from the children and adults around them, the knight was happy. Soon, the match was won. And applause rang out from the children she just competed with.
"Anyone else wish to spar with Ser Hightower?" she boasted. Her free arm wrapping around Argo as he hugged her waist, her beaming down at her son before eyeing the crowd before her with a smirk. "Do not be shy—I shall go easy on you. At first."
as yrsa watched manon she felt a strange kind of distance open. not disdain exactly, but something sharper that pierced through her skin. whether it was jealousy or admiration, the realisation stung nevertheless. she did not possess the strength of the sea, every ironborn so easily inherited. the pride that she still carried would only ever be a mere surge of salt and water. fully draped in hightower robes, iron managed to be pressed by velvet and she appeared to be more hightower than her sister-in-law was.
the applause did not awaken her from a dream but reminded her of the reality. her hands met in rhythmic clapping when she continued observing manon, all bright smile and bravery. her daring request to the crowd, releasing twine, snapping, her lips finally falling open and allowing a short laugh.
“ how thoughtful of you, ser hightower. although i would prefer to carry out any fight within the walls of your home rather than here.”
Harwyn had watched the fiery execution with a tight set jaw, and narrowed eyes. However, not once did his gaze waver. At the very least, he could look as they burned alive, It was the last courtesy he could offer them. Traitors they had been named, rightfully so, but they had lived, had laughed, and had bled as any other. Fire had once been a friend to him, a companion, and now he watched it feast once more.
At the sight of his sister, the harsh lines of his face gave way. The tense ache left his shoulders. He drew Ysra close, one arm folding about her as though to anchor himself, and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. It had been too long, far too long.
“Considering.” He sighed, rolling his lips together “Well, if such a thing happened to befall our family, could we honestly say our punishment would be less severe?” He replied, a sad smile on his face. No, it likely wouldn’t be. Harwyn wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He didn't need an answer to that question.
A small twinkle in his eyes appeared, he knew Ysra well. His most beloved, and only sister, he knew when she was baiting him. and he would let her every time. “Aye, a fine catch, sister,” he said, a low chuckle threading through his voice. “I have grown… weary, as of late. More than I would care to admit.”
“Viktor is barely around,” he went on, his tone cooling, “and when he is… there are times I would wish he wasn't.” His mouth tightened faintly, though he did not dwell upon it. “And Vickon-” a rough laugh escaped him, deep and throaty, “-who can say what passes through his mind?
“Having you in Pyke would bring me comfort, Ysra,” he said more quietly. "Even if only for a little while.”
“You know well I would sooner come to you,” he went on, a faint warmth returning to his tone. “I could lose myself for days within that great Hightower library of yours.” But the warmth dimmed again, scratching at his beard. “But, Victarion needs me home.” he said, with a crooked half-smile. “The maester cannot manage the voices to his liking, when he reads to him." He huffed softly, a big smile on his face “If I abandon him too long, I fear I shall return to find the boy has declared open war upon the crown for keeping me.”
For a moment, something gentler touched his expression. “He asks after you, you know,” Harwyn added, his voice quieter now . “Wonders when his aunt will come to him.” He glanced down at her, eyes softer than before.
the warmth of the tender gesture lingered a little on the crown of her head like any other memory she’d now have to cling on before her new home would demand her back. she blinked and again a reality pressed behind her ribs that she’d need to draw a sharp breath. the innocence of a shared childhood would never find a home again, and now they were forced to deal with the cruelty of the world apart from each other. somehow, whether it was based on the notion of arrogance or hope that none of her family members would ever be harmed, that leaving them and breaking a piece of herself, had sealed any pain away that could befall on them, yrsa had assumed that such things would never take part of shaping the greyjoys fate. and yet, when harwyn even mentioned such concern with a sad smile, she could feel herself faltering.
“ i would never allow such a thing to happen, even if i’d have to give away my life to keep you safe.” she squeezed harwyn’s hand, wondering what else was bothering him. wondering what else has lost its way in the distance. it broke her heart when she left pyke, but it shattered when she realised that she’d have to leave harwyn behind. that somehow she got closer to ruling than harwyn ever did in his life. even though she always thought that he deserved it more than anyone else. of course, vickon was the sheer force the ironislands needed, but the heart of it would always be harwyn. “and i doubt that anything, even a dragon, would manage to kill vickon, or that any greyjoy would perish from fire. only the sea has the right to claim an ironborn's life.”
she caught the small twinkle in his eyes, her smile completing the silent play between them. usually, yrsa did not allow herself to be childish ( she preferred to resort to trickery ) but harwyn always played along and these small moments reminded her that maybe some things would never change. “ then i’ve got no choice other than to return.” a slight nod added to her suppressed joy. but then he mentioned viktor, cold touching his name, dark brows furrowed into a more typical ironborn expression.
“ why do you not wish him to be around ? ” viktor as vickon surely were different from them, the resulting occasional arguments surely natural. but the way harwyn was talking about the youngest greyjoy was different. “ no one ever can but i am pretty certain vickon's thinking about his rope bridge everyday. ” she sighed, knowing that that would never be something she’d find herself missing.
“ returning home to you would be a comfort to me. and i will be staying as long as you need me to. ” perhaps if she were to stay away long enough, her absence would soon turn to be unnoticeable. “ if there’s anything good about them, it’s the library indeed. i’ve even heard some rumours about books about necromancy being hidden.” perhaps she’d find some time to waste on this matter. “ i’ve set some books aside you might find interesting. you can bring victarion if you do not with him to be away from you too long. maybe a change of scenery would do him well. he’s just like you, he’ll love to see more of the world. ” of course, yrsa cared about victarion, anyone dear to harwyn’s heart would never have to work to receive her love she usually kept close to her. still, her desire remained selfish, and all she wished was to have her true family around.
“ he does ?” her face brightened with surprise. “ i’ve assumed he’d have forgotten about me.” yrsa said, her tone dropping into flatness , resembling emotions of longing that had been sealed behind facts now. “ or are you making that up, harwyn ?”
Semi-Closed Starter (3/5) @missbluebiird, @sacrificeis, @violetamaisonx, ...
Setting: Somewhere at the Red Keep, Riverrun, the North or even Dorne
The conversation – if it could still be called that – had long since lost any sense of direction, circling the same dull points with increasing determination. She had smiled where required, offered the appropriate murmurs, even managed a soft laugh at something that had not warranted it. Gods, she needed an exit.
Her gaze drifted subtly searching for an opportunity. It settled on the first figure within reach, standing just far enough to be plausible, just close enough to be useful. Without hesitation, she reached out, her fingers resting lightly against their arm, gentle but assured, as though they had been expected all along.
“There you are,” she said, relief woven seamlessly into warmth, her smile brightening as she turned toward them. “I was beginning to think you had abandoned me entirely.” Only then did she glance back, briefly, to the person she had been speaking to. “If you will excuse me,” she added, all grace and ease, “it seems I have been claimed.”
Only once they had gained a few steps of distance did her composure shift slightly. She exhaled quietly. “You have my gratitude,” she smiled at the other. “I fear I have done little more these past months than attend ceremonies…” Far too many funerals, and, suddenly, an abundance of weddings. “And ceremonies have a way of trapping one in conversations that never quite end.”
lelia knew the twitch of a feigned smile, tone matching monotone boredom and the slightest nod in between the breath that would follow after another meaningless sentence. in her observation, witnessing rosalyn tyrell repeating a similar pattern, she almost shifted into the same tune, mind wandering into seemingly nowhere until it finally reached her again, her touch snapping the young lannister out of her detached state.
“ pardon me for interrupting, but i fear my longing for the dear lady tyrell must have rendered me impolite but i simply must talk to her. ” she turned to the person rosalyn had been talking to ( though the conversation appeared to be more of a monologue ), then linking her arm with rosalyn’s as she swiftly guided her to a place of escape.
she shook her head, pitching her tone to reach theatrics, a smile breaking through her exaggerated act. “ i cannot help the urge to rescue a beautiful lady, a boring conversation is even worse than death itself. ” she said, finally letting go of her arm.
“ i agree. it’s dreadful isn’t it ?” an exaggerated sigh, the final part of her act.
“ not the funerals, as i suppose we must’ve gotten used to it and then act surprise again if another noble might die again in another few months. i mean the boredom that comes with it. i do not know if i can make up another lie about someone i barely knew about.” she jested, barely caring about the appropriateness of her words. she was tired, confused, even scared. and she was sick of it.
" so what do you wish to do instead ? i think we deserve a little break from all these funeral and weddings . ”
They may have not been blood related but Eliana had never seen Leila as anything but her biological sister. She may not have shown many emotions but she did have her own sort of way of showing she cared about someone. And, after being in Winterfell for a month or two, it was a well deserved break to come back home and see her family. So, to see her sister outside - whether purposely waiting for her or not - a soft smile formed on her features as she walked forward. "I didn't expect to see you, little sister," she said, brow raised, "you make me wonder if you actually like me" she joked
when lelia saw her sister, the ghost of a smile awakened, returning the vividness on her features, brightening with warmth only love could bring. the past events had stirred up a fear, she’d thought had been suppressed by the flicker of hope the ashen promise had brought. now, only the ash of bones remained, the name morrigen swept away easily, scattered in fragments that would soon cease to find any way to stick again. it wasn’t them this time, fortunately. but were they truly lucky ? could they every be ?
“ are you waiting for my disposal ?” she jested, laughter shaking off pieces of spiralling thoughts. “ of course i would be here, where else would i be, if not here?” although she loved her home, a part of her always longed for an escape figuring out what she was missing when apparently she had everything. without a warning, she pulled eliana into a hug, the tension falling from her shoulders, when she finally embraced her. she knew that eliana was fine, that she wasn’t the one standing on a tribune of death. flames not even giving her the courtesy of dancing around her before they’d engulf her. she was still here.
“ you are my favourite sister after all. ” she teased, finally releasing her. “ you know i wish you to stay with me forever. ” she said, her tone soft. “ how are you ? considering everything that had happened …”
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