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welcome to westeros SER JULIAN of HOUSE MOOTON + MAIDENPORT ! it is quite well known that they are STRATEGIC and LOYAL, though behind closed doors the people whisper that they are also HESITANT and GUARDED. whenever i think of them, i am reminded of a need for being accepted, a father's pride, trying to make a name for yourself. may they prove their worth in the game of thrones.
STATISTICS !
name: julian mooton. age: twenty7. gender & pronouns: demi male + he / they. sexuality: queer.
ALLIANCE !
birth house: house mooton. position: third child ( kingsguard ). alliance: the crown.
BIOGRAPHY !
𝖎.
julian mooton was born as the youngest of three siblings and spent most of their life trying to understand , exactly , where he fit. he wasn't the heir , or even the spare — no , the family line had already been accounted for long before he ever drew breath — so he always felt like an afterthought. a loose end no one knew how to tie off. their older siblings had purpose , while julian was left undefined. it was easy to make themself useful , to be where was needed and not demand space or attention. julian never felt unloved , quite the opposite , just lost. where was it that they fit when all other roles were filled before he even got the chance to prove himself ? what path would he walk on ?
𝖎𝖎.
it just so happened that julian was naturally a very gifted swordsman. he took to the blade as some took took to song or prayer — instinctively. the sword in his hand sharpened him , focused him , gave him a clarity they rarely found elsewhere. the more he trained , the harder it was to ignore their skill. sparring partners left matches bruised and breathless , instructors paused mid-correction , and even seasoned knights learned not to underestimate the youngest mooton. that same skill drew him , almost inevitably , toward knighthood. it had always been a source of interest , the way his father talked so warmly of his time as a knight in the kingsguard , something julian could've listened to for hours upon hours. but there was something more that there it didn’t matter that he was the youngest , or that no one had planned a future for him — here , merit could speak louder than birth order.
𝖎𝖎𝖎.
the path of a knight promised purpose forged through discipline and sacrifice , and julian embraced it with a quiet , relentless dedication. they trained until his muscles burned and his hands blistered , not out of ambition for glory , but out of a need to belong to something that would claim him in return. in armour and oath-bound duty , he could finally step out of the shadow of his siblings and into a role that felt undeniably his. it had only been a few moons since he bent the knee , took the oath that made his father's eyes mist over. the pride evident and enough to make julian shake as they embraced. soon after , he packed up what little of his old life could be carried and rode south , each mile putting distance between the boy he had been and the man they were becoming. now they reside close to the queen , his cousin , as one of her loyal protectors. julian moved with quiet vigilance , ever aware that loyalty here was both shield and blade. the court watched him with curious eyes , but his purpose was clear at last. to stand fast , to serve , and to prove that he belonged exactly where he stood.
CONNECTIONS !
𝖎. jon mooton ( father ). 𝖎𝖎. siblings. 𝖎𝖎𝖎. romantic entanglements. 𝖎𝖛. friends. 𝖛. enemies. 𝖛𝖎. fellow knights.
𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑪𝑲𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑷 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵 𝑪𝑰𝑹𝑪𝑳𝑬𝑺 𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲.
derya pinar ak + twenty two + cisfemale + she/her ⋆ welcome to westeros VERA of HOUSE LEFFORD + GOLDEN TOOTH! it is quite well known that they are QUIET and GRACEFUL, though behind closed doors the people whisper that they are also TIMID and SHELTERED. whenever i think of them, i am reminded of sleeping with your arms crossed over your chest, next to your dress neatly laid out in anticipation for the following day ; starry freckles spattered across your skin ; feather light steps gliding across the floor, swaying to the drifting hum of a faraway melody. may they prove their worth in the game of thrones.
𝐈.
FULL NAME: vera lefford ALIASES: vee AGE: twenty - two PLACE OF BIRTH: golden tooth, the westerlands PLACE OF RESIDENCE: king's landing, crownlands (recent) GENDER: cisfemale PRONOUNS: she/her SEXUAL & ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: unexplored
𝐈𝐈.
TITLES: lady-in-waiting to princess viserra targaryen, youngest lady of golden tooth RELIGION: the faith of seven PERSONALITY TRAITS: quiet, graceful, shy, affectionate, imaginative, timid, sheltered, sensitive, obsessive (boy crazy), skittish INTERESTS: singing, dancing, doodling, GOSSIP! PLAYLIST: we’ll never have sex, leith ross ; vienna (in memoriam), the army, the navy ; 1 step forward, 3 steps back, olivia rodrigo CHARACTER INSPIRATION: echo, elide lochan, throne of glass ; myrcella baratheon, a song of ice and fire ; natasha rostova, natasha, pierre and the great comet of 1812 ( i'm not going to pretend i've read war and peace) ; the cowardly lion, the wizard of oz
𝐈𝐈𝐈.
MOTHER: unknown noblewoman FATHER: ruling lord evran lefford SIBLINGS: zeren hill, nur hill, miral hill
ADOPTIVE MOTHER: lady zevda lefford née x, deceased ADOPTIVE FATHER: ruling lord onerin lefford, deceased SIBLINGS: ruling lord evran lefford, lady aylin lefford ADDITIONAL FAMILY: lord altan merryweather, zeren hill, nur hill, miral hill PARTNER: none
𝐈𝐕.
HEIGHT: as much as she would love to be of a ferocious height — she's still holding out hope that she might grow a few more inches if she forces herself to eat just one more potato at dinner each night HAIR AND STYLE: born with a full head of dark hair that simply never stopped growing COMPLEXION: pale, a sky full of freckles EYE COLOUR: dark FASHION: she's arrived with trunks of pale pink and cream coloured dresses, and most interestingly, more shoes for dancing than walking SIGNATURE SCENT: daisies
𝐕.
the day you are born is shrouded in mystery, something you are never meant to unravel. it is a mother’s love, and a father’s love, and there is a lady’s sacrifice there too, but you are none the wiser. your infant body is moved in the night from the warmth of your mother’s chest and to the woman who you would come to know as your mother. you never question the incident of your birth. after all, you are the youngest of the lord and lady of golden tooth. you were not raised to question such things.
the father you claim is an angry man, but you hardly know it. your childhood is spent with your face buried in your mother's skirts, trailing after her with a small fist full of fabric.
you were an accident, that much was clear. your deduction is as follow: twelve years younger than your sister, eighteen younger than your brother, you were not meant to be. you are a child when your siblings begin their lives, growing up in the chasm of years between them. the bridge between you is strong, but the gap between you and their children is closer than you and them, sealing your fate as a perpetual child.
the seat at the adult table grows further.
your house is a strong hold, the titled defenders for the west. you stand with the strongest people you know — your mother, your brother, your sister. and yet, you do not have half their strength. you are a cowardly imposter. seven forbid the finger is pointed at you for fear you’ll combust into tears. hiding in the margins of arguments spoken over your head, you learn that it is easier to say nothing. no argument can come from a silent tongue, so you grow quiet around a raised voice, unable to handle an argument.
you are sheltered.
you did not wish for it to be so, but you are so afraid of the world. you wish to be seen, but do not want to be seen for fear of them seeing right through you. seeing you and not liking it. seeing you and —
the winds change when your mother dies.
she died where she slept, within the walls of golden tooth. it is startling conclusion, but you realize then... you do not want the same for yourself.
the invitation to king's landing comes at the perfect time, the lord lannister beckoning you to join princess viserra's retinue. how can you say no? especially when you want it. from what you understand, there are similarities between the two of you... lonely children, now ladies... you hope you can be a good friend.
𝐕𝐈.
new friends! old friends! maybe you want to ruin her life! i'm happy with anything.
⧼ naomi watts + fifty + cis woman + she/her ⧽ welcome to westeros gynn of house stark of winterfell ! it is quite well known that she is droll and reslilent, though behind closed doors the people whisper that she is also off - putting and also fanciful. whenever i think of her, i am reminded of the fluttering wings of a butterfly, undetectable until it is too close; steaming hot cups of bitter tea that scorch the tip of your tongue; a blonde strand of hair floating in the wind, illuminated gold by the setting sun; and extremities wrinkled from being steeped in seawater. may she prove her worth in the game of thrones.
❦ 001. DOSSIER .
FULL NAME gynn stark née borrell TITLE(S) ruling lady of winterfell, former lady of sweetsister AGE fifty BIRTHDATE the fourth day of the sixth moon GENDER & PRONOUNS cis woman, she/her ORIENTATION bisexual, biromantic RELIGION the faith of the seven LANGUAGES SPOKEN the common tongue ALLEGIANCE house stark, house borrell, the rebels
FATHER former ruling lord eryk borrell (deceased) MOTHER former ruling lady gulia borrell (deceased) SIBLINGS ruling lady tba borrell MARITAL STATUS married to ruling lord stark RELATIVES lady wylla stark, lady alayne stark (infant daughters), liege tba borrell, liega tba borrell, liege tba borrell (niblings), lord loras stark, lord edrik stark, lady olynna stark, lady lyanna stark (good siblings)
ABILITIES a talented poet, collector of rare items, a very capable sailor and swimmer, and is well known for the fact that she does her own hair each day — she's also well known for how long it takes her to do so. MORAL ALIGNMENT chaotic good POSITIVES droll, resilient, self - sufficient, generous NEGATIVE off - putting, fanciful, rigid, reckless PASS TIMES reading, writing, collecting, swimming (though this is rarely possible in the north), needlepoint WIELDS wields no weapon CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS luna lovegood (h*rry p*tter), allrianne cett (the mistborn trilogy), syrena (pirates of the caribbean), aemma targaryen (house of the dragon)
HEIGHT 5 foot 4, 164 cm BUILD short, curvy HAIR curly, long and white blonde EYES blue NOTABLE FEATURES she's known for having immaculately styled hair, and she also has webbed toes — something that those from the three sisters (the sistermen) call 'the mark'. it is an ancestral trait of her house — she's lucky her fingers aren't webbed too WARDROBE switches back and forth between wearing the dark greys and blues of house stark and the pale greens of house borrell, she's very much used to growing up in the cold considering how far north the three sisters are compared to the rest of the vale — she pretty much always looks like she should be cold, but isn't FACE naomi watts
❦ 002. IN DEPTH .
tba bc i'm still plotting w ash hehe
❦ 003. EXTRAS .
PREGNANCY TW, INFERTILITY TW she has been married to the ruling lord stark for twenty years now — for a long time, they struggled to conceive, but earlier this year she discovered she was with child. not only is she pregnant — she is pregnant with twins, according to the maesters' estimations. (has now had the babies ic)
honestly? just kind of weird. she loves poetry and always has — and pretty much always speaks in riddles or flowery prose. she's not afraid to be off putting, nor is she afraid to look a fool in front of others. sistermen are often the butt of jokes in the vale, known for their strange behaviour (such as purposely sinking ships with bright lanterns and having webbed hands and feet) — she's used to people having things to say about her, and doesn't care.
worships no gods, not the seven, the old gods, or the ancient gods of the sea and winds. ye olde athiest, basically — which is a contrast to how fanciful she is and how much she loves to hear and tell stories of cultures from far away places.
has been living at winterfell for nigh on twenty years — she is a northwoman and has been since she married the ruling lord stark. she never found it difficult to assimilate herself into northern culture — there were similarities between the northmen and the sistermen that made the transition easy. the one thing she misses terribly is the sea – before she fell pregnant, she would make trips to white harbour frequently, if only to lay eyes on the ocean.
{ liv hewson + thirty + demifemale + she/they } welcome to westeros ERIN of HOUSE MORMONT + BEAR ISLAND! it is quite well known that they are STEADFAST and RELIABLE, though behind closed doors the people whisper that they are also SELF-PUNISHING and HAUNTED. whenever i think of them, i am reminded of white enamel scarred by old blows, iron-stiff hands warmed too long over a hearth, blood-dark snow beneath a fallen banner. may they prove their worth in the game of thrones.
Name: ser erin mormont Nickname: erin, erin, tba Age: 30 Gender & Pronouns: demifemale, she/they Orientation: lesbian MBTI: tba Zodiac: tba Allegiance: the crown (kingsguard), formely house mormont Title: knight of the kingsguard, ser erin, ser mormont
Information:
born and raised on bear island, where life is simpler, harsher, and more honest than in most of the realm. house mormont is not poor, but it is plain. no towering keeps, no excessive finery, no excess for the sake of display.
grew up loving bear island deeply while also noticing, very early, that other houses had more. more comfort, more splendor, more prestige. court visits only sharpened that awareness. even among the north, she noticed the difference. winterfell felt grand. bear island felt… modest.
deeply proud of being a mormont and a she-bear. equally frustrated by the limits that pride came with. both feelings coexist without canceling each other out.
never cared much for marriage or traditional ladyhood. broad-shouldered, tall, muscular, and unmistakably built for combat rather than embroidery. never dainty. never interested in pretending otherwise.
the moment she put a wooden sword in her hands as a child, it was obvious she had a gift. people said it out loud. parents, masters-at-arms, visiting knights. she believed them, and it stuck.
trained relentlessly. became better and better, not out of desperation, but out of certainty. she knew this was her path.
knighted young, around sixteen, nearly seventeen. left bear island soon after for the capital, determined to carve a life larger than the one she’d been born into.
joined the kingsguard not out of resentment, but enthusiasm. genuinely loved the work, the honor, the structure. delighted in living in the Red Keep, in stone walls and warm halls and the feeling of belonging somewhere immense.
before the war, she was lively, quick-witted, and irreverent. dry humor, sharp tongue, constant motion. known for lifting spirits, cracking jokes, refusing to let tension linger too long. cocky about her skill because she could afford to be. a bit of a sunshine presence among her fellow knights.
despite her size and reputation, erin was known at court for being genuinely kind. generous with her time, her patience, and her presence. always willing to lend a helping hand, especially to her fellow kingsguard and members of the crown.
working under the mad king was difficult for everyone. erin learned how to soften the damage. a steady hand on a shoulder after a rage bout. a quiet hug in a corridor. encouraging words murmured under her breath. sometimes a sweet treat pressed into a palm after a day of distress, offered without ceremony.
deeply protective of the people she loved. once someone was “hers”, she guarded them with the same intensity she guarded the royal family.
when war broke out and she learned that house mormont had sided with house stark in rebellion against the crown, dread settled in her stomach. not anger. fear. the thought of facing her own kin on the battlefield hollowed her out. she hoped, desperately, that they would never come. they did.
her twin brother, ethan mormont, rode as orys baratheon’s sworn sword. erin stood as crown prince aerion’s kingsguard. recognition struck before reason. there was no time to speak.
ethan felt betrayed by her vows. by her refusal to abandon the crown. he fought her with full force, determined to protect his rebellion and punish her loyalty.
she did not mean to kill him. she meant to maim him. to stop him. blood spilled too quickly, pooling too deep. by the time the battle ended and aerion stood victorious, life had already escaped ethan mormont’s lungs.
she has not been the same since.
suffers from recurring nightmares, waking visions, and lingering terror that westeros has no name for. startles easily. dissociates under stress. carries a soldier’s broken mind and calls it duty.
was seriously maimed across her face during the war, in the fight against her twin. she has long recovered from her bodily wounds and is perfectly capable of resuming her duty again, but still has scars across her face to prove it.
it has been nearly a full year since the war ended. she is still trying to cope.
many now look at her with suspicion or contempt. whispers follow her through the red keep. kinslayer. the word clings heavier than armor.
she is profoundly depressed. believes she deserves to die. believes survival was a mistake. but continues to serve regardless. because vows are the only thing still holding her upright.
welcome to westeros LORD MAXENCE UMBER of HOUSE UMBER OF LAST HEARTH ! it is quite well known that they are QUICK and DEVOTED, though behind closed doors the people whisper that they are also LOVESICK and ARROGANT. whenever i think of them, i am reminded of the unrivalled and burning devotion of a younger brother ; the clash of valyrian steel ; the beating of a heart two ticks out of time ; a mind muddied by loyalty, the growling of bears and the roaring of lions. may they prove their worth in the game of thrones.
CHAPTER ONE : STATS .
name : maxence umber . age : thirty5 . gender + pronouns : cis man + he / him . sexuality : bisexual . faceclaim : santiago cabrera .
CHAPTER TWO : ALLIANCE .
birth house : house umber . position : last born of the ruling lord . alliances : the rebellion crown .
CHAPTER THREE : SOUNDTRACK .
01. sweet & tender hooligan — the smiths . 02. fake empire — the national . 03. holocene — bon iver . 04. age of consent — new order . 05. chicago — sufjan stevens .
CHAPTER FOUR : STORY .
the bear of the north. a cold and frosty beginning. being last born in a long line promised maxence an easy life, or at least that was what he had assumed. great tragedy would have needed to befall the umbers for him to ever have a chance at ruling — three before him, all with their own set of skills that would mean they were more than qualified to reign over last hearth. the world before him held more opportunity than perhaps it did for his siblings. still, what sort of little brother didn’t look up to their elder ? darian was almost a man by the time their youngest came along, but that didn’t stop them from spending every morning, noon and night out in the courtyard hitting sticks together as a means of bonding. there, in the shadow of last hearth, maxence swore that he would be a great night one day. he would fight in tourneys, he would serve valiantly and dutifully, and he would be a ser — just like darian.
and then, the name he had once adored became poison in their mouths. he disappeared when maxence was no more than a boy, and whenever he asked his father where the man had run off to he was met with a hard stare and a crack across the wrist. so instead, the emptiness that lived within his heart was channelled into the one thing that had ever made the world feel less scary. his training. as the young lord grew, he squired beneath some of his father’s men and learned all there was to know about fighting, parrying, polishing steel and patching up battered and broken shields. his father had thought that, one day, maxence would stand in the front row of a wall of soldiers to surge forward towards a rebellion victory. if only he had known that, just like his eldest, the youngest of his sons would slowly begin to pull away.
in an attempt to blow off the steam and adrenaline of a young man wielding a sword, maxence started to compete in tourneys. he would ride on the back of his mahogany destrier, a bear helm made of silver atop his head, the cross of chains on a ruby background proudly displayed upon his shield. there were few that were able to unhorse the beast. he soon proved himself to be formidable, and yet no matter how loudly the kingsguard called for him he knew that his father would never approve. the shackles of house umber were not just an sigil. he felt them cutting into his wrists whenever he grew too large within them, the press of wrought iron reminding maxence that his life was not his own. the pull towards mundanity was one he fought to refuse. relinquishing his name, his title, his land, and everything that came with it, sounded near blissful despite it being the nightmare of so many other nobles.
but maxence was not as brave as his brother. he remained in silver, not in gold. he stayed without a cloak, carrying his family name around with him like a fetter on his ankle. now, in the wake of the rebellion, he finds himself standing on a thin and unsteady line between his heart and expectation. maxence is unsure which way he will fall ; all he knows is that it would take little more than a strong wind to unbalance him. the young bear had heard of spies, those that worked for the crown but exchanged whispers with the rebellion for gold and valor, but what of the others ? what of those who ached to have been born miles south, to be accepted at the targaryen’s side or — at the very least — accepted despite their affiliations ? maxence is not a pious man, nor is he a particularly staunch northerner. his loyalties are to those that share his own blood, the siblings of his maul. how long would it be until they started to peel away from their father too, to stand with darian in an act of measured revolt ?
he is yet to be knighted, at least not properly. the act belongs to one person and one person alone, and until maxence can look upon the eyes of his brother and ask him man - to - man to press his greatsword to one shoulder and then the next he remains a lord rather than a ser. the turmoil in his mind is kept secret, spoken in whispers only to those that he truly trusts. but the moment he sees a break in the chain, he knows that the bear will rise up and run towards the life awaiting him. from his father’s side comes and arrogance that aids in jousts and swordplay ; maxence knows his skills and flaunts them, and many a maiden had looked upon him with intrigue and desire in their eyes. there is only one woman for him, and she is waiting just out of sight for the stars to align.
CHAPTER FIVE : CONNECTIONS .
bethothed — open . antagonists — open . knights he has squired for — open . family members — darian umber, kaela umber . fellow knights — open .
𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖒 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖌𝖞, 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖐, 𝖜𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍— 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖘 𝕺𝖚𝖗 𝖁𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖊
{ luke thompson + 37 + male + he/him } welcome to westeros ELYAS of HOUSE TYRELL + HIGHGARDEN! it is quite well known that they are ASTUTE and COMPOSED, though behind closed doors the people whisper that they are also PROUD and RESERVED. whenever i think of them, i am reminded of ink-stained fingers, candlelight over parchment and polished boots on marble floors. may they prove their worth in the game of thrones.
𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒
𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄. elyas rowan tyrell. 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄. ely. 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒. lord of highgarden. 𝐀𝐆𝐄. thirty-seven. 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑. cis man (he/him). 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒. married to lorent tyrell. 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐍. faith of the seven. 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. house rowan, house tyrell/highgarden, the reach. 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒. common tongue, high valyrian, old tongue, some dornish expressions for bartering.
𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. 5'11". 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. 180 lbs. 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃. lean and finely build, slender but athletic. 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒. blue with a hint of heterochromia. 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑. dark brown, softly wave and often in thoughtful disarray. 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐎𝐍. fair with a quiet warmth, touched only faintly by the reach's sun. 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒. ink stains; perpetually smudged fingertips or faint marks along the side of his hand, a mole under his chin on the right side, calluses from quills.
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. lawful neutral. 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓. thoughtful, steadfast and wise; a man whose intellect brings oder to chaos and whose calm steadies those around him. 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓. cold, condescending and unyielding, convinced that reason alone makes him righteous, blind to the hearts he wounds in his certainty.
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. lord and lady rowan of goldengrove. 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. older brother, two younger siblings. 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄. with house oakheart; alles during rough times, but their relationship is shaped by competition for prestige and proximity to highgarden. house fossoway; are seen as a bit beneath the rowan's because they're not "old blood". house peake; traitors. 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑. deeply loyal to house tyrell due to marrying into their bloodline and utterly devoted to his husband, lorent.
𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘
Elyas of House Rowan was born the second son of one of the Reach’s most ancient and respected houses. From his earliest days at the Rowan estate, it was clear he was not destined to inherit; the weight of the lordship fell upon his elder brother. Yet being second-born did not breed laziness or indifference. Instead, Elyas threw himself into study, strategy and discipline, surpassing his peers (and often even his brother) in intellect, diligence and foresight. While others jousted or hunted for sport, Elyas could be found bent over tomes, calculating taxes, analyzing military campaigns or observing the politics of the Reach with unerring attention.
He was astute, composed and precise; qualities that set him apart, but they also made him distant, proud and very reserved. Childhood friendships were few, and those who endured were tested by his sharp mind and subtle expectations. Yet the Rowan household, proud of their lineage, quietly relished the wisdom and cunning of their younger son, even if they could not place him at the head of the family.
When Elyas was twenty-two, House Rowan arranged a marriage that would alter the course of his life. The union was with Lorent Tyrell, the adopted heir of Highgarden. The match was purely strategic: the Tyrells hoped that linking Lorent to a prestigious, old house like the Rowans would strengthen his claim as Lord Paramount of the Reach, while the Rowans were content to secure their influence over the Reach’s affairs. Elyas… ever practical, accepted the arrangement with mild amusement and minimal objection.
Lorent, by contrast, was carefree, charming and childish — a man more interested in laughter, music, hunting and fleeting pleasures than the serious governance of a powerful estate. Elyas initially found him frustrating and irresponsible, rolling his eyes at the heir’s flirtations, escapades and tendency to skip duties. Lorent, on the other hand, resented the marriage at first, having wanted to wed for love and reluctant to be bound to someone so calculating and serious. Their early interactions were a delicate dance of patience and exasperation, with Elyas handling the hard decisions behind the scenes while Lorent navigated the social spotlight with an ease Elyas didn’t understand.
Over time, however, the boundaries between practicality and affection blurred. Elyas could not help but admire Lorent’s joy, charisma, and the way he brought life to Highgarden’s halls. Lorent, in turn, began to see the depth beneath Elyas’s composure: the quiet devotion, the brilliance in council and the subtle ways he protected not only the Reach, but Lorent himself. Slowly, respect grew into affection and affection blossomed into love.
Their wedding was grand, befitting their status: a celebration of wealth, alliances and the unlikely merging of intellect and exuberance. Over the years, Elyas became the steady hand guiding Highgarden’s affairs, the quiet mind behind every major decision, while Lorent continued to charm, delight and invigorate the court with his playful presence.
Now, fifteen years later, their marriage endures as both a partnership of minds and hearts. Elyas continues to manage the Reach with careful strategy, yet he does so not out of mere duty, but with a devotion to Lorent and the life they have built together — a life defined by balance, mutual respect and the rare, enduring harmony of two very different souls.
(𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃) 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘. parents· open. siblings. · open. 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 (𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃). lorent tyrell. 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒. friend · open. fellow artists/intellectuals · open. falconry companion · open. childhood confidant · open. 𝐀𝐂𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒. political rival · open. academic rival · open. advisor · open. mentor/former teacher · open. court rival · open. 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑. sable (puppy), scholars he worked with · open.
the dawn may blaze; but the ember endures
so the heir’s name is serenya of dayne, keeper of high hermitage, born beneath the red mountains where stone burns hot beneath the sun. hers is a gaze that lingers, catching the things others let slip—an uncanny eye, patient, observant, ever weighing. to some she is distant as starlight, aloof in her calm, but those who draw too close learn trust freely given is seldom returned once broken. she moves like the desert wind, unhurried yet unyielding, a figure both enigmatic and unbending in her loyalties. not lion, not wolf, not stag—she is the quiet watch of dorne, her circlet, of the red stone terrace, the night sky, and the burden of choice.
𝐈𝐈 , basic information .
name . . . serenya dayne . nickname . . . sera, ren ( to a close few ) titles . . . lady of blacktyde , dayne dessert flower marital status . . . unwed . age . . . thirty5 . pronouns . . . she , her . religion. . . faith of the seven (publicly) mother rhoyne (privately) . affiliation. . . house dayne, tbd . languages . . . common tongue , dornish dialect, rhoynish-inflected low valyrian.
𝐈𝐈𝐈 , personality .
negative traits . . . aloof , too trusting , vindictive (emerging?) . positive traits . . . curious , enigmatic , resilient . hobbies . . . hoseback riding, courtly arts, calligraphy, stargazing, astronomy .
𝐈𝐕 , relatives .
parents . . . ruling lord edwin dayne, ruling lady petunia dayne nee lannister siblings . . . lord/lady/liege of dayne, lord/lady/liege of dayne. other family connections . . . ruling lord keegan dayne, ruling lady delonne allyrion, lord/lady/liege utp dayne, lady evanie dayne. pets . . . nyx & ember— a bonded pair of cats, nyx a sleek black shadow with a reddish sheen, ember a sand-gold fur with amber eyes. together they mirror night and flame, ever at serenya’s side in watchful silence or quiet warmth.
𝐕 , biography .
born beneath the shadow of the red mountains, serenya dayne has been the ember at the heart of high hermitage—quiet, enduring, and watchful. the firstborn child of lord edwin dayne and lady petunia lannister, she was raised between the desert stone of her father’s keep and the polished refinement her mother carried from the westerlands. theirs was a union meant to bind dorne and the west in friendship, but serenya has never felt the pull of the lion’s pride; she has no longing to meet her mother’s kin at casterly rock. instead, her heart remains tethered to the mountains and skies of dorne, where she has learned to carve her own path among blood and stone. serenya is, at her core, a family woman. she adores her younger siblings with fierce devotion and remains doting of her father, perhaps to a fault, seeing him as the embodiment of dornish strength and constancy. her mother she loves in her own way, though with her lingers a quiet unease—a question of where petunia’s true ambitions lie, and why she turned so firmly from her lion’s inheritance. these uncertainties press serenya to sharpen herself, to become more than the dutiful heir. she listens, she learns. for all her aloofness, her gaze lingers long enough to catch the truths others overlook, and once her trust is betrayed it is near impossible to win back. refined and enigmatic, she bears the polish of her lannister blood yet the quiet fire of her dornish roots. she is curious about the world beyond dorne, eager to understand the houses that weave the wider game, though her innocence in politics makes her both approachable and vulnerable. to some, she is distant as starlight, yet to those who know her, she is fiercely loyal, unbending once her heart has settled on a course. her resilience lies not in loud defiance, but in the steady glow of endurance—an ember that will not be snuffed out, no matter the storm. her life is etched in the rhythms of her chosen loves. long rides on horseback under a starlit sky are her truest freedom, the bond between rider and steed as sacred as blood. music fills her halls though not by her hand—she prefers the harp played for her, letting sound wash over the silence she keeps. her letters, written in an elegant hand honed since childhood, carry her voice across dorne, as steady and refined as her bearing. then there are the stars, her nightly companions, the constellations she charts as though the heavens themselves hold the fate of house dayne. even her companions, the cats nyx and ember, are reflections of her essence: shadow and flame, night and endurance. they linger where she lingers, silent watchmen at her side. to the realm, she is the heir of high hermitage, a rare desert flower blooming from red stone. to her family, she is the ember that endures, burning quietly, patiently, ready to carry their name forward into whatever dawn or dusk the game may bring.
credits : psd , template .
𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎.
BASICS
Full Name: Cassana Blackwood
Known Alias(es): Lady Blackwood, Cas, Sani (only those close to her are allowed to use that one)
Age: 22
Gender: Cis woman
Birthday: 6th day of the 12th month
Religion: Old Gods
Sexual & Romantic Orientation: Biromantic, graysexual
Residencies: Raventree Hall
PHYSICAL EXAM
Faceclaim: Maitreyi Ramakrishnan
Voice: A mostly high pitched voice but a slightly slow speaker and generally keeps her volume low but still high enough to be heard by most people. While Cassana does not have a strong Riverlands accent, it is there and most noticeable when she's speaking louder. (Think an almost cockney accent with received pronunciation)
Eyes: Big, almost doe like, dark brown eyes
Hair: Black, wavy hair that' goes about to the middle of her back. Cassana usually keeps it in a braided or braided updo if she isn't wearing it down. It'll sometimes be lightly curled.
Body Type: Hourglass
Distinguishable Marks: Small scar on her right cheek from childhood and mole underneath her right eye. The scar is barely visible and hardly ever noticed.
Weight: 134 Ibs
Height: 5'6
MENTAL EVALUATION
Mental Illnesses (if applicable): Generalized Anxiety Disorder
Positive Traits: Compassionate, open-minded, protective, loyal
Negative Traits: Impulsive, self-destructive, obsessive, evasive
Alignment Type: Lawful Neutral
Phobias: Emetophobia
Mannerisms: A hand over her heart whenever she's nervous and she avoids eye-contact, depending on how angry she is.
Hobbies & Interests: Reading, gardening, collecting trinkets from various places, painting
HABITS & LIFESTYLE
Daily Routine: Cassana's daily schedule is pretty meticulously planned, fairly busy on most days, and you will get chewed out for interrupting it if it's not an emergency; Especially if it's her free time and she hasn't had any in awhile
Sleep Patterns: She tries to sleep at least 7 hours a night but the stress of current events has been preventing that. Its not uncommon to see her out of her chambers and wandering the library at Raventree Hall.
Personal Aesthetic: Cassana's wardrobe mainly consists of dark blues, purples, and silver but she'll wear her house colors of brighter red and black to more important events.
