BEHOLD

SEFFORA MERRYWEATHER Ruling Lady of Longtable "Just because you are soft doesn’t mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the color gold" ( mobile navigation )

[seffora-merryweather]

♛ → THE REACH presents SEFFORA MERRYWEATHER, the RULING LADY of LONGTABLE. when the dragons danced in the sky they thought the BLACKS would still fly, but in the blink of an eye, they would all die. the TWENTY-SIX year old FEMALE who was CURIOUS & EMPATHETIC before they saw the first of the flames, is now RESENTFUL & TEMPERAMENTAL after seeing the last. they’re often associated with leather-bound books for her tu nurture her curious pursuit of knowledge, gowns embroidered with gold thread and pearls, a kind heart that endures despite the harsh losses of family. ( FC: Imogen Waterhouse )

BASIC FACTS:

NAME: Seffora Merryweather

AGE: Twenty-six (Born December 8th, 117 AC)

STATUS: Ruling Lady, former ward of House Rowan

OCCUPATION: Ruling Lady of Longtable, former tutor to the Rowan children

MARITAL STATUS: Unmarried

CHARACTER ALIGNMENT: Lawful good

MBTI: INFP (introversion, intuition, feeling, perceiving)

RELIGION: Faith of the Seven

VIRTUES: Curious, Empathetic, Caring, Quick-learning, Reliable & Perceptive

VICES: Self-doubting, Temperamental, Withdrawn, Dissatisfied, Resentful & Impulsive

GENERAL INFORMATION:

Seffora is the third daughter of the recently deceased Lord Serwyn Merryweather and his first wife, the lady Lady Sarella Kidwell. Her older sisters are Sienna Merryweather, the late Sofina Allyrion née Merryweather (deceased). She has a younger sister (aged 7) named Shireen, daughter of Lord Serwyn and his second wife, Lady Elaine Tarly.

During the Dance of Dragons, Longtable was under siege and her paternal uncle, Lord Silas Merryweather, ruling lord at the time, was executed. Lord Serwyn was named ruling lord then, and in an effort to protect his children, the Merryweather sisters were sent away to be kept safe. Initially it was Serwyn’s friends from House Rowan who took them in while matters settled. Their maternal house at Ivy Hall took in Sienna and Sofina little after that, but Seffora in particular had already developed a close bond to the family of Lord Tirius and was officially made a ward to House Rowan (mainly under Tirius’ care).

Due to her proclivity to read and study, Seffora has taken a role of tutor/governess of sorts towards the children of Tirius Rowan. It’s not a role that advances her in court, but one that makes her happy.

Despite living apart from each other, over the years Seffora maintained a very close relationship to her sister Sofina, who was always a gentler and kinder presence. Be it at Ivy Hall or Longtable once it was restored, Seffora visited quite often. Her bond to Sienna is more complicated, however. Her oldest sister has remained embittered by the events of the war and the execution of one of their kin at ther very ancestral home, and is someone Seffora has generally found harder to relate to.

In the Reach’s court she became acquainted with then Princess Florence, and their bond strengthened after an unfortunate attack the two of them faced together in the North at the hands of some thugs. Florence asked her to become one of her ladies in waiting. This proximity and friendship to a Hightower earned Seffora some disdain from her sister, Sienna.

After the recent passing of Serwyn Merryweather, his succession was unclear: whether the title of Ruling Lady of Longtable should go to his eldest daughter, Sienna, or to his wife, Elaine Tarly. Both made their claims, but ultimately Lady Elaine was forced to flee with her child and Sienna took over Longtable. While in Dorne, Seffora was made aware of her father’s passing via a letter from Sienna, and learned about the murky matters of the succession as Lady Elaine and little Shireen arrived at Sunspear prior to the departure of the Reach to head back home.

At the start of the civil war that sprouted from Sienna’s marriage to the usurper, Alaric Tyrell, a series of betrothals took place to strengthen the Reach’s ties with their allies. Seffora became betrothed to Lord Mathis Rowan but no marriage came to pass, since the late Hand of the King was murdered.

After months of conflict, Alaric Tyrell and his wife, Sienna Merryweather, were forced to surrender. They were arrested and set to be trialed. Seffora was declared the legitimate ruling Lady of Longtable at the end of the civil war and moved to her family’s ancestral home to begin her new duties with the guidance of entrusted Rowan cousins of Lord Tirius.

CONNECTIONS:

Serwyn Merryweather: Father (deceased)

Sarella Kidwell: Mother (deceased)

Sienna Merryweather: Oldest sister (deceased)

Sofina Merryweather: Older sister (deceased)

Elaine Tarly: Step-mother

Shireen Merryweather: Younger half-sister

House Rowan: Former guardians, close friends. Seffora particularly developed a close bond with Lord Tirius Rowan, who is like an older brother to her and somewhat of a parental figure as well. She also took to Lord Tirius’ children and assisted in their education while she was Lord Tirius’ ward.

Ophelia Fowler: Friend. Seffora befriended the Dornish healer after her unfortunate encounter with some Northern thugs at the time the realms gathered in King Theon’s domain.

Prince Rhys Arryn: Childhood friend, and someone who has remained one of her closest friends. It saddened her deeply that he departed to Braavos due to a rare illness.

Lucca Tyrell: Seffora began to befriend the heir of the Reach following the end of the Reach civil war. A bond formed between the two and Seffora holds special affection for Lucca and his two baby sons.

[norbiegrafton]

"did we not?" norbie asked, brow creasing as he tried to recall exactly what he had been doing with his time in the westerlands. seffora was right, he realised. their paths had not crossed in the westerlands. "i suppose we didn't," it sounded like he had only just noticed that was a fact, because it was. "and even that seems like it was forever ago now. "which i suppose means i've been a terrible friend for allowing us to go so long without speaking to one another." he made a mental note not to leave it so long next time.

he had been certain that seffora would enjoy the book, and so there had been little nerves or anticipation in recommending it, but he couldn't help but be pleased at her eagerness, anyway. "i don't think you'd need to be scholarly to read it. some of the essays are really quite poetic. there's one about how memory can shape your experiences of the world moving forward that's really quite moving." he flashed her a dimpled grin of excitement, and shook his head. "besides, i think you'd be clever enough to be scholarly, if you put your mind to it."

on the topic of sisters, he gave a small, uncharacteristic huff. things with fiona were still tenser than he'd hoped they'd be by this point. he had always forgiven her anything, but her recent antics had been a step too far for him. "i'm not sure anybody could use the word innocent in the same sentence as fiona's name and mean it true," he said, more bitterly than intended. "but... i appreciate the sentiment, though i insist on being the one to pay for both books. as an apology for missing you in casterly rock."

[seffora-merryweather]

“Oh, you know, it was all so very proper and minutely planned,” she replied. It wasn't a complaint in any capacity, but it was true that almost every moment had been deliberately scheduled and executed. Celebrations for the prince. Feasts. Lann's Day events. Seffora had found only rare moments to talk with her dear ones, since being in the West did require a certain level of performing the role of a proper lady at a highly-regarded event. “Don't say that. You've are not and never been a terrible friend. Quite the opposite,” she stated back, giving Norbie a look that left little room to counter those words. “It's just it: we've reached that point in life in which we're responsible adults, minding so many different things, and looking back to say to ourselves: Oh, it's been a while since I last spoke to this or that person,” she said casually, her words carrying some playfulness to them, even if there was some seriousness and some truth in them. Time had passed for them too, and they had long stopped being carefree adolescents with fewer things on their mind.

The Merryweather lady listened as her friend spoke about the essay. She enjoyed hearing Norbie speak about books, learning what he'd taken away from them, what he'd enjoyed or what he'd found lacking. It made her want to dig into those same pieces of writing and see if she'd uncover the same things he had, or if she'd find something different there. It was a relief to learn the writing wasn't that... elevated, and that she might access it without feeling too dumb to grasp at those ideas. “That sounds fascinating,” she said with a soft hum, “That makes a lot of sense, I suppose. We do rely on our memories quite a lot. We let them shape our experiences”. Hearing Norbie say she'd be clever enough to be scholarly was one of the biggest compliments her friend could pay her. It was the opposite of the idea she'd grown up with and had worked so hard to try to deconstruct. The idea of the naive, silly, little lady her father had shaped, intentionally or not. She smiled softly, knowing those had not been empty words. Norbie's words never were. “Thank you,” she said, very aware of those little parts of her younger self that were still healing in some way.

Seffora chuckled a little when the Grafton lord mentioned his sister's name. She had never been close to her, despite how close she ended up getting to Norbie, but she did have an idea that his sister could be quite the complicated character. “Well, I'm not sure if I could help in any way on that account... or if I could offer any good advice regarding your relationship with your sister,” she mused, absentmindedly tracing her fingers along the covers of some of the books on display on the table before them. “But I'm here if you ever need it. Maybe just to listen, you know?” she said, knowing not everything in a friendship had to be about fixing things in each other's lives. Just being there was enough. Just being there was the most important thing, perhaps.

When Norbie offered to pay for the two books as some form of apology, Seffora couldn't help but think it wasn't needed, for there truly was nothing to apologize for. But she appreciated the gesture and how thoughtful her friend was being. “I have another proposition,” she offered, “You pay for my book, which will be a present I'll treasure. And you let me pay for yours, please. I also would like to give this to you as a gift”. Hopefully, that was a good middle ground he could accept, also letting her have a nice gesture for him. “And this time you won't lose it because I'll give it you, and it'll be important,” she added with a playful grin.

[tionpeake]

"it might be, you know," he held up his hands in a mock form of surrender, his voice warm with mirth. "it isn't so much that i don't think you'd be a good student. my aptitude as a teacher, however, is in doubt." as much as he was joking, he liked the idea that she wanted to learn the language of his lands. for a long time, starpike had been overlooked, a little outside of the orbit of the reach court via its location in the marches and socially, as the peakes had not achieved any sort of notability since the time of the gardener kings. that she was curious to learn it was not just a sign that she took their alliance seriously, though that was a comfort, too, but that his was a house on the rise, and as far as his ego went, this pleased tion greatly.

the music came to a pause, and tion smiled at the sound of seffora's laughter. as unfamiliar as her customs were to him, he was glad that she was enjoying the fruits of the labour she had put in to this night. he took a moment to adjust the cuffs of his jacket, regaining his composure after loosening it for the briefest of moments. "i think that depends on who's doing the judging," he let out a quiet chuckle. "i'm sure someone somewhere will find fault with my dancing skills." though perhaps here, it did not matter, and for tonight it was more about the joy of the music than looking good as you moved to it.

he took a moment to pause, to take stock of the celebrations behind him, it was, visually, very different to the festivals he had grown up with, but it was not entirely all that different. the warmth underneath it lingered, real and solid and palpable in the sounds of laughter and people taking a moment to put their cares to the side to enjoy something they had created together. "i'll be better prepared, next time," he turned back to seffora with a grin. "and if not, maybe we can make some time for dance lessons after languages."

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora made a face, thinking he was poking some fun at her ability as a student. And so she dared to lightly nudge the lord in a friendly manner. Then, Lord Peake revealed he was speaking about his own skill as a teacher, and not about anything that might be lacking from her side. Oh. The lady chuckled softly, placing her hands at her hips and gave him a light-hearted nod. “Then you're forgiven,” she mused, “Here I thought deep down you were regretting letting me study with you”. It was all well and merry, really, and Seffora was quite content with this less official agreement yet entirely exciting element of their alliance.

“It's a celebration, Lord Tion. Everyone has far better things to do than be judgmental,” the lady of Longtable offered with an easy smile, hoping she could finally put at ease the hesitation or concerns the Lord of House Peake might still harbor. She understood wanting to do things right, and perhaps fit in. Or at least not stand out like a sore thumb. Truly, during a festival of this type, the folk of Longtable were far more concerned with the accomplishments of their sowing, with having fun as they counted their blessings for a good season, and also, with getting drunk. Lord Peake would soon see these same dances performed very differently the more the hours passed and the rye ale flowed.

The ruling lady couldn't help but smile a little brighter when Tion Peake spoke of a next time. It was comforting to know he envisioned the bond of their lands as something lasting, as something that warranted a future in which he could picture himself dancing at yet another rye sowing festival here. “You've been so gracious in accepting to teach me. I'll be happy to teach you some of these dances as well,” the lady answered, lifting her hands to tuck some stray golden hairs behind her ears. “Well, now that you've had your first Roggensaatfest dance,” Seffora said, her bright expression and more relaxed demeanor clearly showing she was in very good spirits, “what else might you wish to do or try?”.

[tionpeake]

her enthusiasm for the language of the peake lands was flattering to tion. there was a certain vanity to him that one may not expect under his exterior shell, the calm-and-composed demeanour that he wore along with all his grand finery. and yet he found it stirring now, not least because he was idly wondering if her interest in his mother tongue was rooted in something more than the new-forged alliance between their houses, the friendship they had declared between peake and merryweather, or if her motives were of an entirely different nature. "if you're willing to endure my lessons, it wouldn't be polite to refuse," he said, grin forming on his face. "i doubt you will find it difficult to master. it is not so different to the language of the court, just... more relaxed." he supposed it was more complicating than he was making it sound, but she was right that now was not the time to discuss language lessons.

he hummed his assent with her words, grin slipping into an expression that was more sincere. it was obvious that she saw her words as something as an admission, though in his eyes, it was the mark of a good ruler, someone who could set aside their own needs in pursuit of something that they thought mattered more. stability for her lands, he thought, was something that should be a chief priority. he had seen lords, including those in his own line, forget that, instead letting their own whims and needs drive them. it never ended well. but on the matter, he said no more. it was not for him to tell her how to run her lands, nor how to carry or think about herself. that was something far too personal, given the short time they had known one another.

though she told him not to fret, he still took a moment to linger there, rather than dance. in a way, there being no steps to follow was worse. these were not the drum-beats of starpike, music he found easy to move to, nor the music of court with its practiced steps he knew how to follow. the rhythm was unfamiliar to him, and he knew not how to dance in a way that worked with it. he was skilled at masking insecurity under steadiness, but any familiar with the way he carried himself would not miss the slight shift on the balls of his feet, the self-conscious set of his spine in that moment. and yet, he was running out of time to stall. he had little choice, should he not wish to look rude. it left only one choice. he began to move, allowing her to take the lead, following the motion she set.

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora’s expression brightened as he agreed to teach her more of his mother tongue. “Endure? You make it sound like it would be a trying experience,” she said with a laugh. “I promise you I'm a diligent student, my lord. I intend to keep that reputation intact under your tutelage. So I’ll make it quite easy for you to deal with me as you teach”. There was some playfulness in her words, though her sincere eagerness to learn was unmistakable. What she'd just said was true for the most part, since Seffora had truly dedicated herself to what her tutors were intent on teaching her. But once or twice, in her younger years, she had fled from her classes and sneaked out to do something else that captivated her curiosity more than a lesson. That sort of mischievous streak had mostly faded, however. Besides, the idea of learning from Lord Peake, of tracing the cadence of his homeland’s words through his voice, stirred something subtle but genuine within her.

For a moment there, the lady wondered if she had overshared. Had her words been too personal, too revealing? Seffora second-guessed herself, thinking that perhaps she had been much too open and naive as she honestly shared her self-doubts with the Master of Coin. Her smile had begun to falter slightly before she saw the shift in Tion's face. His features softened somewhat, and his silence didn't hang around them as a dismissive attitude. She let out a soft breath, understanding that the quiet moment was him being politely considerate. She felt more at ease then, knowing she was not being judged or pitied, but understood. Seffora held his gaze, and a gentle smile found its way to her lips again.

As they danced, the Merryweather lady did notice it took him a moment to get used to the flow of the music and the steps. All stiffness and formality could be shed away, and she was content to see him trust her to guide her through this piece of her culture. There was even a small, quiet satisfaction going through her as she saw Tion Peake loosen a bit more, his movements finding their rhythm with hers. Seffora smiled, and the free, content sound of her laughter mingled with the music and the clapping around them. When the tune ended, the people around them cheered. Some tankards of rye ale began to be passed around, and both Seffora and Tion ended with drinks in their hands. Seffora chuckled and looked up at Lord Peake. “See?” she said, grinning. “No dignity lost after all”. She raised her drink for a toast and said the traditional 'Prost' before taking a sip.

[calisverse]

𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 as 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐃

The Outpost. Season 3.

[norbiegrafton]

norbie's grin was wide, his earlier argument with the bookseller nearly entirely forgotten as he returned seffora's hug by way of patting her on the back affectionately. "wild horses couldn't keep me away," he said, and it was very evident from the tone of his voice that it was no joke. if there was ever an event norbie would not miss, it was this one, even if he had to crawl on his hands and knees from gulltown to get here. "i have missed you, though. it feels like we haven't seen one another in positively ages."

he withdrew his arm, watching with no small amount of anticipation as seffora surveyed the book he had handed to her. "well, i hope it has. i'd hate to recommend you something you won't enjoy," for a moment, his brow creased, as though he was horrified at the thought of it, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "it's a collection of speculative essays on the nature of identity, both internal and in terms of public perception. it's a bit more whimsical than i usually recommend, but very clever - more poetic than academic, quite charming, really." he spoke with complete enthusiasm, nearly tripping over his words to get them past his lips.

"i've a feeling my sister may have had something to do with the missing copy," he sighed. "i've no proof of it, but, well, i know where every book in my library belongs. if it isn't in its place, it's usually because fiona has moved it." there was a flicker of annoyance in his expression that was not usually there when he spoke about his younger sister, for he had not fully forgiven her quite yet. "hopefully your copy fares better than mine did."

[seffora-merryweather]

“I’ve missed you too,” Seffora admitted easily, a fond smile gracing her lips. “It's been quite a while. When we were in the Casterly Rock, we didn't have much time to properly sit and talk”. It had already been many months since the realms gathered for Prince Arthur's birth in the Westerlands. It was a blessing that the Concord presented an opportunity for a long-overdue reunion. And now, as she glanced down at the book in her hands, she was pleased that not only was she with a dear friend, but one who also shared in something she loved. The lady cradled it against her chest, a clear indication that she was taking it home.

When Norbie told her what the book of essays was about, Seffora’s eyes widened a little, eyebrows rising in some surprise as she looked at him. “Truly? I’ve never read anything like that before”. It wasn't the sort of read her father would have encouraged, or even her tutors later on. Even during her time with the Rowans, when the world had opened up much more for her, Seffora hadn't encountered this sort of text. “Thank you,” she added, feeling even more eager to start reading it soon. “Oh, I don’t mind it's not an academic piece. I don’t have the scholarly mind you do, Norbie”. Her tone was gentle, and a soft laugh even escaped her, but she was sincere in the compliment. Norbie was the cleverest man she knew, after all.

She let out a soft chuckle when he explained his theory. “Sisters, right?” was all she said. When she was a little girl, many a thing had been misplaced in the Merryweather household —shoes, ribbons, perfumes— and the fault was passed between Sienna, Sofina, and Seffora. Even little Shireen eventually got blamed for some mischief from time to time. Seffora missed that. The lady let the moment of remembrance of what once was pass, and then turned toward the bookseller. “Excuse me, might you have another copy of this one?” she asked the man politely. When he nodded and pulled one out from beneath the table, Seffora turned slightly toward Norbie with a quiet triumph. “Then I’m taking both. You must have one to replace the one you lost. Even if your sister turns out to be innocent, I won’t have you without a copy”.

[tionpeake]

"we'll let them off for tonight, then," tion spoke with an amused smile. though he was keeping up the easy conversation between them, he was observing her, the way she was when surrounded by her people and how she moved amongst them. there was much that could be learned about anybody who ruled over others simply by watching how those who were ruled reacted to her presence. there was a sort of softness to seffora that he did not often see associated with leadership. it was something he admired, for he had long looked for other ways to exert influence than sheer strength alone, that quiet sort of authority that did not sacrifice either dignity nor command.

"you remembered," he gave an approving nod, pleased she had retained something of their last meeting beyond the pledge they had made to support each other. "just because you did not do it alone doesn't mean that the success isn't yours," he pointed out. "a captain cannot sail a ship alone, and yet when he makes it to port after a storm, that is his own victory."

as they reached the musicians, playing a merry tune that was unfamiliar to him, he took a moment to pause to listen. "i'm an adequate dancer," he responded with a shrug of his shoulders - not dismissive, but to make plain the distinct averageness of his skills. "will my dignity ensure sheer mediocrity?" it was easier at feasts and the like, where the music and the dancing was second to the conversation and he could choose more mellow songs to take to the floor with. the music of longtable required a more relaxed, carefree approach, and that was something tion was not the best at doing.

seffora, though, had no such reservations, hesitating very little before taking to the floor. for a moment, tion only watched her with a small smile, not immediately taking to the floor with her. it wasn't that he felt out of place, but in that moment, he was very aware that he was a guest in her world, and as a good guest, it was not for him to turn his nose up at her customs.

he held out a hand to her, and he stepped forward.

[seffora-merryweather]

If her father's overprotection had done her any good, it was in turning her into a good student. With few chances to wander outside, she had turned her attention to whatever books could offer instead. When something caught her interest, her curiosity truly awakened. She felt the same about Lord Tion's language, having that itch to discover more than a handful of words. “You’ll have to teach me more,” she added, her tone laced with enthusiasm. “If you’re willing, that is”. They had spoken about it when she invited Lord Peake to Longtable the first time, and she remained just as eager to learn more about the specific language of his lands, about his people. About him. “Perhaps not today, though. I do not wish to burden you with teaching on a day you're supposed to be enjoying yourself,” she added with a gentle laugh.

Just because you did not do it alone doesn't mean that the success isn't yours, he'd said, and the Merryweather lady looked at him in silence for a moment. The words resonated with her, because it was not the first time she had heard a similar message. “You’re not the first to tell me that,” Seffora replied with a subtle tug at her lips. She had heard something similar from Dacey, Lucrezia, and Laena. The three women who were pillars in her life in their own particular way, at one point or another, had offered that advice, that reminder, that she should not shrink herself or diminish her accomplishments. “I suppose I set myself aside sometimes,” she admitted, glancing at the Peake lord. Perhaps it was much too vulnerable a thing to say to someone she was still getting to know, but she had felt comfortable enough to speak with sincerity. “I’m still working on that,” the Lady of Longtable added then, her soft smile returning.

Once Seffora stepped forward and began dancing, she moved with joy and freedom. That was one of the things she loved the most about the festival, how it could become a moment to simply rejoice and silence the worries of what was or what could be. She heard the cheers around her and saw the contented faces of the musicians, of the people who had gathered around to clap, and those who decided to join and dance as well. She saw Tion as well, and the way he smiled. It brightened her own smile.

When the lotf held out his hand, Seffora took it. She chuckled and continued to follow the sway of the music. “Fret not, Lord Tion,” she leaned close to say, so her voice could be heard through the cheers and the music around them. “There are no specific steps to follow,” she said, for this was no courtly dance with a rigid structure. “Just move and enjoy”. And already the rhythm of the song was carrying them into mirroring motions, moving to one side and then the next, connecting with mere glances on what to do next. He guided her hand upwards, and Seffora flowed with the motion, doing a twirl. She laughed, because frankly, she was enjoying herself more than she'd expected to.

[calisverse]

𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 as 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐓. 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄

The Buccaneers. Season 2, Episode 3.

[lucreziasredwyne]

∞

lucrezia redwyne had never considered herself easily surprised, though in reality many would easily whisper that she most definitely was, but there was something quietly disarming about seffora merryweather that tugged at the edges of her carefully managed composure. she had expected charm, expected that light, airy brightness that young ladies of longtable often carried with them like perfume—sweet, agreeable, and quick to fade. but seffora ensured that such sweetness would leave a permanent mark, the one which one would think about in the moments after she had departed from a room.

there was a sharpness to her that had not been there in their previous interactions, like the silver tip of a vine cutter, honed quietly through observation and practice. her words, particularly regarding not needing to forever live in the legacy of a man in order to be deemed worthy, particularly resonated with her. struck chords at all her very heart. and then, more gently still, “you are not half a man. you are entirely your own. and it is a comfort beyond measure to have someone like you nearby. someone real.” her words hung in the air like incense, fragrant and slow to fade. she smiled again, and this time, it touched her eyes.

and now, watching her through the gentle haze of steam rising from their tea, lucrezia felt an unexpected stillness settle in her chest. something not unlike affection. and for all her years and long being entered into womanhood, becoming a mother of her own as well as a wife, there was always a strange giddy excitement and nervousness which seemed to settle in her stomach at the realisation that she actively could see another as her friend. a close friend, that would mean more than just talk of politics and positions on a small council - only, she hardly knew how to go about such a thing. her friends had been chosen for her, once upon a time; if they merely continued in such a way, it would happen naturally.

“you know....i think,” she began slowly, her gaze flickering from the soft movement of seffora’s fingers to the half-curled smile at the corner of her mouth, “that what you’ve said is truer than anything most men have dared admit aloud in that chamber.” her voice was low, thoughtful, more musing than spoken. “we are permitted to exist only in extremes. the quiet, gentle doe or the steel-cored martyr. the seductress or the shrew. and if we do not select one of those roles for ourselves, they will carve us into it anyway.”

she shifted slightly, drawing one leg up beneath her as she turned more fully towards seffora, abandoning formality in favour of comfort. “and yet, what you said just now—it wasn’t bitter. it was observant, honest. and i find that deeply refreshing. i don’t think i knew how much i missed conversation like this." she smiled, a rare softness to it that didn’t reach many people these days. “there’s no pretext with you. no sense you’re studying me as a piece on a game board. you listen. not to use it against me later, not to flatter, but because you want to understand. i see it, and i appreciate it - greatly."

she let her gaze drift briefly back toward the gardens beyond the window. the golden roses shimmered in the late afternoon light, and she thought again of running through them, tearing through the rows with reckless abandon. but today, with seffora beside her, she didn’t want to run. “you have definitely crept up on me, seffora merryweather,” she continued, voice quieter now, but there being a light, almost shy smile on her lips. she tried not to feel embarrassed, but she would say it nonetheless; for if there was anything she took seriously, it was saying things to people. rather than wishing she had.

“i suppose i hadn’t quite admitted it to myself. but i do. i feel it. i feel… relieved, in your company. and that’s a feeling i’ve grown unaccustomed to.” she glanced at her companion again, eyes narrowed in something between amusement and fondness. “i thought you were a girl who needed guidance. i see now how foolish that was. what you are is a woman who already knows her path. what i can offer is simply companionship as you walk it.”

there was a pause, and then lucrezia tilted her head, studying her friend in earnest as her arms crossed upon the wooden surface of the table between them, still blowing the smoke from the tea cup. “tell me something,” she said, her voice easing into something more curious. “you know, i have somehow never visited longtable or merryweather lands as a whole...i don't know how i ever missed it. do you have your own tongue? i would assume so. now i think of it in reality, i don't think i've visited much of the reach: only highgarden, goldengrove beyond lands that have become my responsibility.” she leaned in slightly, almost conspiratorial now. “and i always imagined i’d live by the sea forever. maybe not even wed. just… surrounded by books and wind and vineyard song. as a girl i never imagined council meetings.”

there was a slight sparkle in her eye; something lucrezia truly developed in being within the company of other women. where she felt safest, and happiest; and most content. "correct me if i am wrong, but i have heard you have been all the way to the vale on your own accord?"

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora let out a soft breath, almost a tender laugh, for she was so touched by the candor that existed between them. It was something rare, and it was something beautiful. There were no veiled words or hidden meanings, instead the two of them spoke with genuine care and spoke so sincerely. “I'm always happy to have conversations like this,” the lady said with a warm tone to her voice and an equally warm gleam in her eyes. It was a powerful thing, to connect with another woman like this. “And it means so much to me to hear that,” she said gently, the corners of her mouth tugging up, forming a soft smile. “Because, you know... When I was younger, I wasn’t often listened to. Not truly, at least. My thoughts were sweet distractions, foolish words by a naive girl”. Her voice held no bitterness, just the memory of an old ache that didn't quite sting anymore. “But Sofina listened. Gods, she always listened. Even when I did actually say foolish things. But she made me feel like what I had to say mattered, and that feeling... it's important, and it makes a difference. So I do try to offer that same care to others”. It was the kindest trait she'd learned from her older sister, and one she tried to preserve and keep alive in herself.

The smile Lucrezia gave her, touched with something shy and unguarded, filled Seffora with a kind of quiet, tender happiness. She hadn't expected to be thought of in such a way, to find herself creeping gently into another woman’s life and being welcomed once there. “I don’t know how I managed that,” she admitted with a soft chuckle, “but I’m glad I did”. It was rare to be seen so clearly, rarer still to be appreciated for the gentler, softer parts of her nature that she had been told made her weak and naive. Gods, and to be thought of in such a way by someone she admired as much as she did Lucrezia Redwyne. So much of Lucrezia’s counsel and kindness during the worst part of the civil war had steadied Seffora and kept her from sinking. That she might now offer some comfort back, that her presence could be something warm and reassuring for the Redwyne lady, made her feel quietly proud. “I feel relieved in your company as well,” she added, glancing at the woman she thought of as a mentor, and also as a true friend, with soft sincerity. “I feel valued, safe, and understood”.

A flicker of amusement graced Seffora’s features. “Oh gods, I do still need guidance,” she admitted, holding up her teacup to her lips for a sip before she continued. “I may feel more at ease in my own skin now, more certain in my standing, but I’m still new in a terrain others know far better than I do”. The crisis that followed the civil war had turned out to be fertile ground for her learning, of course, with Seffora having the necessity to do something as a ruler of Longtable before it all fell apart entirely. She'd been fortunate, of course, having Lord Tirius' support and for the guidance his house continued to offer. She was fortunate to have the councilors who had served the Ding for decades and continued to be trustworthy and experienced mentors. “There’s comfort in knowing I'm not entirely on my own. That I still have others I can rely on”.

At the mention of Longtable, Seffora's gaze softened further. “I understand why your travels never took you there,” she said, no trace of reproach in her voice. Lucrezia's cousins, the Hightowers, had left their mark on Merryweather lands during the Dance. What reason would the Mistress of Ships have to visit following that? “You are more than welcome to visit anytime you wish, Lucrezia. I would love to show you my home”. And truly, for the first time in years, it did feel like her home. “We do have our own tongue, though everyone speaks the common tongue as well. And we have our own festivals as well. The Roggensaatfest is fast approaching. It's a rye-sowing festival. It would be lovely if you could be there!”. It was a merry time for the people in Longtable, and Seffora could imagine that Lucrezia and her family might enjoy the music and the food.

When the Mistress of Ships inquired about her past trips to the Vale, Seffora nodded before she spoke. “Yes, I have been to the Vale a number of times. My father used to take me and my sisters there when he journeyed there,” she mused, recalling those very first trips, so long in her past now. “I did travel a few times on my own. Well, with guards and a retinue, of course. I befriended Prince Rhys when I was but a girl, and my father allowed me to pay some visits when I got older”. Seffora's head tilted a bit to the side, smiling at the Redwyne lady. “I never quite got used to spending time at court there, but I did love the view of the mountains”.

[tionpeake]

tion fell into step beside her, observing his surroundings as they walked. he could see why his men would settle so swiftly into their home here. he knew that longtable was recovering, but it was evident the people here were as welcoming to them as their lady had been with him, putting his men at ease amongst archways of rye. it was not without satisfaction that he noted they were not just blending in, but bringing something of their own to merryweather lands, not entirely forgetting where they came from. "i was half-worried you'd ask me to give them a stern talking to," he jested. "but i am glad to see they have done me proud." it would certainly make it easier, for tion knew he needed to ask for help beyond quiet support for his place on the council. he was not sure if seffora was placed to give it, but he did know he would lose nothing by asking.

he was not a man often inclined to ask favours. he could not have made his fortune without alliances and friendships, but for the most part, it was a result of his own hard work. he chose his friends carefully, and never accepted help he did not intend to return. though his acquaintanceship had been short with seffora, he thought he might already have the measure of her. none of her hospitality felt performative, and he was certain that if he did ask for what she could do, she would expect nothing back. still, now was not the place, nor the time, for such discussions.

a chuckle came to his lips as they walked, genuine amusement flashing across his features. "i thought i'd be more occupied with saving my dignity than my breath," he said. "though that's a plan as easily overturned as any, i suppose." he was still resolved to abstain from drinking too much here, but that did not mean he needed to refrain from having any fun at all. "it looks like you have done a fine job, lady merryweather," he gestured with his free arm, inviting her for a moment to enjoy the fruits of her labour. "and with enough grace to make it look easy, which i know it must not have been."

[seffora-merryweather]

“Oh no, no need for stern talks,” Seffora said with a quick shake of her head, “They’re good men. Hardworking, generous, and keen to teach as much as they are to learn. They’ve very much earned this time of celebration without needing a reprimand from their lord,” her tone was lighthearted as she gave the Master of Coin a light nudge with her elbow, offering the lord a bright smile as they continued to walk side by side.

The Merrywather lady glanced around, feeling her heart swell with joy and pride at the sight of the festival unfolding around them. It felt like a culmination of sorts and also the beginning of a new chapter. It was beautiful to see such vibrancy in her homeland again, witnessing her people's joy after the hardship and pain of the civil war. A new and brighter Longtable taking its first steps. “Meci,” she replied at the praise the lord gave her, recalling the word he taught her in his homeland's tongue. “I couldn't have done this on my own, of course”. It wasn't all Seffora's accomplishment, of course. A festival of this magnitude couldn't be orchestrated by a single person. The recurring theme of the last couple of years was the support of those she surrounded herself with. “It is lovely to see all the effort and planning pay off. Let us hope it all continues without a hitch”.

The pair walked closer to the musicians, and the lady could feel the joy of it going under her skin. She looked at Tion, amused by his earlier comment. “Then I must ask, are you a good dancer, Lord Tion?” Her words were accompanied by a playful eyebrow raise. “Because I have to say, that is the only way to preserve your dignity during the festival”. Her tone was teasing, but her smile remained kind, warm.

Just then, one of the women playing a flute caught the Seffora's eye and gestured for the ruling lady to dance to the merry melody the group was playing. “Well,” Seffora chuckled, having to prove the point she'd just spoken about a moment ago. She gathered her skirt in one hand and stepped closer to the musicians, much to the delight of the other revelers around. She twirled, the green fabric of her gown flowing around her. Another of the musicians grinned and gestured at Lord Peake. Clapping around them picked up with that good-natured invitation for him to join their ruling lady in the carefree dance.

[calisverse]

𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 as 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐓. 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄

The Buccaneers. Season 2, Episode 2. Jinny's yellow blouse and reddish skirt, and white chemise.

[tionpeake]

it was the second time in recent memory that tion had arrived at longtable, and been greeted by the sight of its ruling lady. the last time, he had come with all his courtesies intact, as a stranger hoping to make an ally of house merryweather. with that goal accomplished, he dismounted his horse was a slow, deliberate grace, handed the reins to a waiting stable hand with the murmured word of thank you in longtable's own tongue, as she had taught him around a candlelit dinner table, and when he turned to greet seffora, there was a measure more warmth upon his face.

the courtyard thrummed with life, but the music and the smells were all unfamiliar to tion. his own lands had an identity that diverged from the reach's court, influenced by heritage said to come from the summer isles, but longtable was different still from both. he didn't think he disliked it, though it was different. unfortunately, though, he would not be indulging tonight. those who knew him best knew the fool he became when he had too much drink in him, and their friendship was too new to test it like that yet. he had not come here to make a show of himself nd be the man the rest of the guests whispered about in the morning.

"lady seffora," he greeted, stepping a little closer. he'd faced several trials since they last met - the burning of his lands, the realisation his uncle had simply vanished into thin air - but he had brought none of them here with him tonight. his posture was relaxed, an easy smile lighting his features as he stopped to speak to the festival's host.

she directed his attention to the men he had sent here, noting with some satisfaction that they seemed well at ease here. he was glad of that. it was one thing to fulfil his promise on a surface level, delivering the scraps of dunstonbury that would do little for longtable long term, but it was another to know he had given her men of quality, men who could assimilate to life here. "a reward for their hard work, i hope?" he raised a brow at her in question, pausing long enough to allow her to confirm or deny that his men had been of use.

"i am sure your duties as a hostess will keep you busy tonight," he said, though he offered his arm towards her all the same, an open gesture that was neither presumptive nor demanding. "but if you have a moment, i would appreciate your company. do you have a moment now?"

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora received the Master of Coin with both dignity and kindness, a gentle smile gracing her lips upon hearing her name spoken in the particular lilt of Lord Tion's voice. She was happy to detect some warmth in his voice and expression, as was present in her own. His timing was fortuitous, for he had arrived just in time to see the fruits of their pact, how it hadn't only aided her homeland, but enriched the lives of the men he sent to Longtable. “A well-earned reward, indeed,” she replied, her gaze lingering on that group of men who hailed from his lands. “They’ve taken to this land well, and we've embraced them just as openly”. Just then, one of the men who came from Dustonbury began to hum a tune not born of this region. The others also began humming the melody like something they knew well enough by now, and even began to intonate the song's words. Those men Lord Peake sent had been sharing their histories and culture with those they now called friends, with those they shared Longtable with. Seffora's subtle smile lingered, feeling a warm kind of satisfaction bloom in her chest. Something she had hoped for had begun to take root.

She turned back to Tion then, observing her companion with the same sort of quiet interest. Seffora's curiosity about him had been fully engaged when the Master of Coin first visited, eager to learn more about him and find commonality with him. He carried himself with ease, with confidence, and a sort of guarded nature that was very much understandable within the Reach. Little by little, the Merryweather was getting to know him, and in turn, that only made her curious heart wish to know him more. “If I’ve planned as well as I should have, then the festival should carry on without me needing to monitor everything so closely,” she admitted with a lift of her brow, hoping that was indeed the case. “And that means I may yet enjoy a part of the event for myself”.

When Lord Tion offered his arm, she accepted it gladly, a gentle smile appearing on her lips as she linked her arm with his. His company had been most welcome since his first visit, and that continued to hold true today. “Shall we walk a while?” she offered, tilting her head toward the winding path that led past garlands and arches, leading to the rye fields. There, crowds had begun to gather, and musicians were already filling the air with lively melodies that brought the spirit of the Roggensaatfest to life with fiddles, flutes, and tambourines. The lively sounds were part of the ambience for now, and the traditional dances would begin in earnest very soon. “We should walk slowly, I must say. Keep our energy and save our breath,” she warned the lord in a light-hearted manner. “Once the dancing begins, it won't stop until sunrise. We must save all our strength”.

[norbiegrafton]

closed starter for @seffora-merryweather

"you can insist all you like, my good sir, but this isn't a first edition," norbie said, his voice crisp and certain as he waved the leather-bound volume he was referring to around as though it had personally offended him. "it's an obvious forgery. the watermark has been altered, and the margin size is too inconsistent. not to mention to lettering is all wrong for the time period." he dropped the book on the table with a look of triumph, as though his point was irrefutable.

the bookseller, a balding man with ink-stained fingers, began his retort, predictably attempting to minimise norbie's points as though he didn't know who he was speaking with. if there was one thing norbie grafton knew, it was books. norbie didn't even let him finish his sentence. "no, no, no. you see..."

his own words were cut off by the entry of a figure he knew well, though had not seen in some time, as seffora merryweather entered the bookseller's tent. immediately, his mood brightened. she had been one of the people he was hoping to catch at the concord, and luck appeared to be on his side. "excuse me," he said to the book seller, before hurrying to join her as she browsed the shelves.

"you don't need to get that one," he spoke as he approach her, broad grin on his face, gesturing to the book she had stopped to look closer at. "not unless you're having trouble sleeping, at least. some good ideas, but the execution is dull as ditch water." his fingers ran along the spines on the shelf before coming to a stop, tapping a pretty volume bound in violet. "you'd like this, i think. i actually don't have a copy of my own anymore - it went missing somehow, which is odd, because i usually know exactly where all my books are."

he slid the book from the shelf and placed it in her hands, and only then did he see fit to greet her. "i'd hoped i'd find you here, you know. as soon as i made my travel plans, i said 'i hope to see seffora.'"

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora’s face lit with unguarded joy the moment she recognized Norbie’s voice, her fingers pausing against the spine of the book she had been perusing. She turned to greet him fully, her smile bright and easy, as though no time had passed at all since she last saw him. “Norbie!” she breathed, delighted, the name carrying a familiar fondness she did not offer lightly. Forgetting propriety for a moment, she stepped forward and hugged the Grafton lord. “Of course, I should have known the Verdant Concord would summon you to the Reach,” she said warmly as she drew back. The event attracted the greatest minds —and the sharpest tongues—of the realms. She should have known it would be a matter of when she would run into him, not if.

Her eyes glimmered with curiosity as she cradled the violet-bound volume he pressed into her hands. She turned it over carefully, reverently, as though he had handed her a rare and precious thing rather than a book simply plucked from a crowded shelf. “I hope your uncanny gift for recommending reads I enjoy hasn't faded,” she added with a knowing smile. Every single book the Grafton lord had recommended to her in the past had become a favorite in her collection.

Seffora brushed a thumb along the gilded lettering on the cover. “But tell me, what made this one so dear to you, Norbie?” she asked, softly tilting her head to the side. “And surely there’s a story behind its absence, too. I cannot imagine you losing track of a beloved book without a strong reason”. Her tone was teasing but affectionate, her heart warmed by the easy camaraderie between them. Norbie was one of the cleverest men she knew, and yet he never made her feel foolish, always inviting her to dance with his thoughts and ideas in a welcoming way.

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora’s expression softened. There was a natural gentleness in the lady's eyes, but the kind of warmth which with she looked at her cousin was reserved only for those closest to her. “Your support has always meant so much to me, more than you know,” she murmured, her voice laced with gratitude. Not everyone had seen Seffora as they saw her now, but Laena had. “And as always, you see more than most,” she added with admiration and deep respect for her. Her cousin was both observant and keenly attuned to notice little details others could miss. “You understand what it means to be spoken of, to live in the shadow of another’s choices. But you’ve never let it define you, Laena. You built a life on your own terms, in spite of it all”. The Lady of Longtable offered a smile. “You are a reminder that we can be more than the stories they tell about us”.

She took Laena’s hand, a gesture of solidarity and gratitude. “You have given me more than just aid. You also gave me hope during a time I struggled to see possible paths forward. Longtable’s people look to me for guidance, for leadership, and I'm still new to it in many ways,” the young lady admitted. Seffora had chosen the kind of leader she wished to be, and yet was still learning how to best accomplish that. “Through your help, I’ve been able to offer my people glimpses of a better future. I cannot thank you enough for that”. Her lips curved into a soft smile, one that carried the immense gratitude she had for her cousin.

At the mention of a favor, Seffora paused. There was something she had been considering to speak with the king about. “There is… one thing I would ask,” she began, her voice steadier than she felt. “A meeting with his grace. Perhaps you could me to have that audience sooner rather than later”.Perhaps the king could be persuaded to spare some of his men, soldiers in particular, just for a time, to help bring back some steadiness to Longtable that wasn't quite there yet. And the thought of what Lucrezia had mentioned to her also crossed her mind, but Seffora wasn't sure she could or would bring her name forward for the Council just yet.

[fromspringandfire]

laena’s gaze softened as seffora spoke, and the weight of her the other's gratitude settled over her like a warm cloak. she gave a small, quiet smile as her fingers continued to trace the edges of the rose petals. the mention of longtable’s future stirred something deep within her, an understanding shared only by those who had felt the burden of rebuilding in the wake of devastation.

“you’ve always had the strength to find your own way, seffora. i’m glad to have played even a small part in the hope you’ve been able to give your people.” her words were a soft praise, a quiet reflection of the admiration she held for seffora’s quiet leadership.

the brief silence stretched between them, filled only by the faint rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the gardens. “you’ve had to carry so much weight on your shoulders, more than any of us should bear. but you’ve never let it crush you.” she reached out, resting her hand lightly on seffora’s arm, a gesture of solidarity. “you have the gift of seeing beyond the hardships, and it’s rare, precious.”

her voice softened with understanding. “the path ahead may be difficult, but i’ll be here, always, to help you walk it.” she paused for a moment, her thoughts momentarily drifting to the quiet promise she had made.

"of course," laena responded, a thoughtful smile tugging at her lips. “consider it done, well, me asking that is, though i hope i am convincing enough to grant you a quicker audience." she said in light jest.

she gave seffora's arm a light squeeze, guiding her in the direction of a table filled with different delicacies. "for now, we can at least revel in some of the things the west has to offer. i hear the lemon cakes are divine."

[seffora-merryweather]

END.

[calisverse]

𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 as 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐃

The Outpost. Season 2, Episode 6.

[lucreziasredwyne]

∞

lucrezia had never thought of herself as lonely before. learning to have to appreciate solitude, perhaps, but never loneliness. she had spent much of her life understanding that distance was not always a burden but, at times, a necessity, considering the ocean was as much of a defense as it was a responsibility to bare.. in the arbor, among the vineyards and the sea air, she had learned to relish quiet, to appreciate the spaces where she was not expected to be anything other than what she was; to understand that sometimes, quiet did not mean loneliness.. but highgarden in the recent weeks, months, years was different - and she was not entirely sure of where exactly it had slipped through her fingers.

"there is just much happening these days. if one were to blink they would miss a change, a comment, or a look." it was filled with voices, with movement, with the constant press of people and their expectations, and yet, it was here that she began to feel it creeping in at the edges—the slow, gnawing sense that she stood apart. how much of courtly poltiics was centred around loss was not lost to her; they needed to push through it, secure rosaria, deal with the braavosi - all whilst none cared a thought for garland once he had entered his grave. none but her, but she would not say that to a merryweather of longtable. not after everything.

it was not an absence of company. there were always those who sought attention, those who wished to speak with her, to curry favour, to offer thinly veiled advice on how she ought to rule. but few understood. fewer still cared to, as much as they accepted and had come to understand a reality of life. she was lucrezia redwyne, daughter of lord arlo, lady of the arbor, and to so many men in that council chamber, she was nothing more than that. an extension of her father’s legacy. an obstacle, perhaps, but never truly a force in her own right. there had come the startling and slow realisation, a dawning moment, that the only reason she was in the position she was came down to misfortune and sheer bad luck. not her expertise, not her knowledge, not her strengths nor her weaknesses - only the decisions of the gods. should that not be enough?

"it is a strange thing," she continued, her gaze flickering momentarily to the window, where the gardens of highgarden stretched out in careful perfection, golden roses dotted for as far as the eyes could see. she wished to run through them, not for the sake of some romantic illustration, but because she wished to trample them and leave them behind. "i think, the position of council member holds benefit for us. it gives us autonomy." did it? she thought briefly to the tense discussions happening which had sunk into her marital bed, into the crevices of where a huband touched his wife. in all her hopes of teamwork, she had never thought of how the lines had crossed and blurred. "and still, you are a woman." she offered seffora small, dry knowing smile - as though she did not need to expand further upon it.

and yet, with seffora, it was different and perhaps lucrezia had not fully fathomed the comfort she felt in the young woman's presence until this moment. there came fleeting relief in seeing seffora merryweather in the glittering halls of highgarden, or in times where the festivities were in full swing; a familiar head of golden curls, and a kind face - she had never realised how much she had been relieved to see it, until now. the scent of mint and honey hung between them, curling in tendrils of steam from their teacups. "i always thought to be a successful, accepted, member of any council, a woman needed to strive to be akin to her most respected male relative. in my circumstance, my inspiration was always my father. you see it across the realms, one only need look in the direction of the vale. they vale their queen for her masculine features." lucrezia rested her hands against the porcelain, letting the warmth seep into her skin, an anchor against the thoughts stirring in her mind as she waited for the tea to seep into the warmth of the honey.

"but you," she went on, softer now, "you do not carry your father’s name like a shield or a chain. you do not wish to be measured by him, and that is something i admit i do not understand. i have spent my life ensuring my father’s memory does not fade in the minds of others, that his name is one of strength, of certainty. i want to be his legacy. you, however…" her gaze was steady, considering. "you wish to be something entirely your own. and so, i guess we do not need to be our male relatives." she took a sip of her tea, letting the warmth settle her before she set the cup down with deliberate care.

"i do not wish to tell you what path to take, seffora. that is yours to decide, and yours alone. but i will tell you this—if you do not wish to be your father's shadow, then you shall not be.. you never have been, and you will not become it at the expense of sitting upon a table. you do not need to spend your days proving what you are not when you could be showing them what you are. and if that means stepping forward, claiming something that is yours by right of wit and wisdom rather than birth, then so be it." her fingers traced absently along the rim of her cup, hardly reacting to the scalding of the heat beneath the tip of her finger before she glanced back at seffora with a small, knowing smile. "and if nothing else, i would welcome another woman’s voice in that chamber. it would be a relief, i think."

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora watched the steam curl from her cup, the rising tendrils blurring her vision for a moment, giving her time to gather her thoughts. Lucrezia’s words wrapped around her like a balm and a tether at once. It was a particular power the Mistress of Ships wielded around her: the ability to kindly comfort her while also grounding her with the reality of things. A quiet thought of gratitude passed through her mind then. Despite the harrowing losses in her life, she continued to have loving bonds, such as this one, that sustained her.

There was something painfully, profoundly true in what the Lady of the Arbor said about her position in the council. It was a truth Seffora had always known but was rarely acknowledged. Women like them were never permitted the luxury of being simply adequate. To falter, to even appear uncertain, was a flaw magnified a hundredfold, justified by them being women. Meanwhile, men could stumble through court, offering little beyond their names and titles, and still be seen as fit to lead. Even if they fell to mediocrity, they remained the default figure to rule. But for a woman, good was not enough. Cleverness was not enough. Their enduring strength was not enough. They had to be exceptional, always, only to be measured at half a man's worth. Seffora felt the weight of it settle in her chest. “And still, we are women,” she echoed Lucrezia's words with a soft sigh, though not one of defeat. In this space between them, they had had a shared understanding of the obstacles they had to traverse, and of the special sort of bond that perhaps could only exist between women.

Seffor lifted her cup for another sip of the soothing mint tea. Her eyes lifted from the drink to meet Lucrezia's warm gaze. “I did carry my father's name as a chain for a time, I must admit”. Her voice was quiet but deliberate, not seeking pity but understanding. “I loved my father dearly, I truly did. But I've also grown to see how his ways hurt me, or... constrained me, really. I understand it came from a place of love, yet I always believed him when he said my place was on the fringe of things. When he spoke, I listened. When he decided, I obeyed. It's what a good daughter is supposed to do, ” she went on, her voice gentle, devoid of any resentment for her father. He'd done what he could with what he'd been given, caring for his girls in the best way he knew how. Perhaps his only failure had been not truly seeing his daughters for who they truly were, but for who he wished they would be.

“Our fathers cast their shadows, Lucrezia,” the Merrywather lady offered with a soft smile, “For you, I think, it offered shade, protection, and a legacy to uphold with pride,” she mentioned, for she'd seen the love and devotion with which Lucrezia spoke of the late Lord Arlo. “I used to feel constrained living within the lines my father drew for me. I could feel the tug of disappointment when I dared to look beyond them. Gods, and I barely dared to do so. I felt like a guilty, misbehaving child when I sneaked around to discover what else existed beyond what I was allowed,” Seffora added with a soft chuckle. Gods knew she'd been reckless too, having even put herself in some danger just to see beyond the horizons on what she knew. “So I feel the need to keep carving something of my own, because I go back to what my father expected, I know I'll suffocate”.

You do not need to spend your days proving what you are not when you could be showing them what you are. Those words moved Seffora deeply, a soft exhale leaving her lips. They were more than sage counsel. They were the sort of tug in the right direction that inspired the Merryweather lady to continue to seek to be more than what she was. She lifted her chin slightly, meeting Lucrezia’s gaze with a gentle, luminous smile. “You are truly remarkable, Lucrezia,” she said in earnest, the statement felt almost too small for what she meant. Seffora wished there were better words to truly articulate the strong, clever, good-hearted individual that Lucrezia Redwyne was. Not only in what she offered to her, with her wise counsel and her true friendship, but what she did for the realm as a whole. “Your contributions do not have to wear a man's mask to be called worthy”.

The thought of pursuing an opportunity within King Cedric's council was intimidating, to say the least. Seffora leaned forward slightly, cradling her cup between her palms as if anchoring herself to the moment. “I will not pretend I'm not nervous, or afraid,” she said honestly, safe in the knowledge that she could show her vulnerability around Lucrezia without judgment. “But you have given me much to think on. And more than that, you have given me the rarest thing of all: a glimpse of what might be possible. If I can offer even a fraction of what you see in me, then I think… I think it will be enough”. And perhaps, Seffora thought, someday when others looked upon that council chamber, they would not only see the daughters of great men but women who shaped their own path beyond what any inheritance could offer.

[ofsacredseas]

ayca exhaled a short breath, somewhere between amusement and resignation, as she dipped her brush back into the paint. "i suppose i should have expected the flowers," she admitted, casting a brief glance around them. the gardens stretched endlessly, a cascade of color and fragrance, overwhelming in their perfection. "still, it feels excessive. even the rivers in my home know when to thin out and yield to the land."

her brush pressed against the canvas once more, sweeping a dark stroke across an unfinished bloom, muting its brightness. She had meant no insult to highgarden—lucrezia had been right to encourage her to travel here. but the sheer abundance of beauty made it feel almost performative, as though the land itself demanded admiration. it made her restless.

at seffora’s praise, ayca’s grip on her brush faltered for half a second before she steadied it. compliments were often as easy to deflect as critiques, but the sincerity in the merryweather lady’s voice made avoidance seem needlessly difficult. she turned slightly, studying seffora now, rather than the canvas. “thank you. i only know how to paint as i see things,” she said after a moment, voice quieter.

her gaze flickered toward seffora’s hands, it was a strange gift of hers, to be able to see ones hands and see the craft that they might master. “needlework requires patience. i imagine it has its own artistry.” her lips pressed together, thoughtful. “and i’m sure a melody, sung in private, carries more honesty than any performance meant for an audience."

she hesitated at the mention of lord tarly, not yet sure she was ready for another voice in her process. “maybe,” she allowed, noncommittal but not outright dismissive. “for now, i think i’ll just figure out how to paint something here without drowning in roses.”

ayca tilted her head slightly, studying seffora with renewed curiosity. there was a certain ease in the way she carried herself—polished, warm, and effortlessly composed. it was the kind of presence ayca had learned to recognize in those who moved comfortably within courtly circles, those who knew how to navigate conversation with grace rather than caution.

“you speak as though highgarden is familiar to you,” ayca noted, her brush idly tracing the edge of a petal she had yet to define. “are you a courtier here, then?”

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora’s smile deepened at Ayca’s remark about the rivers. “A fair point,” she said, the laughter in her eyes soft rather than mocking. Her gaze lingered briefly on the canvas, then on Ayca herself. There was something about the lady’s manner, so cool and precise, so unbothered by pretense, that Seffora found quietly admirable.

“I fear I may have already interrupted more than I intended,” Seffora added, her tone kind and mindful. She shifted her weight subtly, a half-step back along the path through the gardens, as if to offer Ayca the space to return to her art if she wished it. She was drowning in roses, as she put it, and the Merryweather lady did not wish to drown out her inspiration with interruptions. “I only meant to pass through, and then your painting caught my attention”. Her gaze lingered briefly on the canvas, then returned to the Mallister lady.

Still, she remained long enough to answer the lady’s question. “I'm Lady Seffora Merryweather,” she offered a smile as she introduced herself to the Riverlander, a subtle tilt of her head as she did so. “Highgarden is not my home, but I've come and gone enough for it to almost feel like one,” the lady explained, her voice carrying a quiet fondness. She inevitably reminisced of her days as daughter to a Master of Laws, as a ward to the trusted Rowans, and as a lady-in-waiting. In those years, her visits to Highgarden had belonged to other people. These days, she came for her own reasons, and for her duty to her people.