#fulgurescent

[saltandsong]

“ Where did you come from? ” - @fulgurescent

🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚

"Oh. I'm sorry." Sienna said, softly. "I was down at the beach, finding dinner." She explained, holding a basket up. "I take care of the light house. I also help the inn keeper. She's getting a bit older, getting food isn't so easy for her these days." Sienna explained.

"I'm Sienna Sherman. I grew up here, my father was a fisherman, the inn keeper took care of me when he'd sail out."

[bloodhonored]

Why don't you tell me what you really think.

I WANT THAT FAIRYTALE . . . ( accepting ! ) ✴︎ — @fulgurescent

“I DON'T THINK YOU'D FAVOR THE ANSWER.”

There was a joke somewhere in there, it was hard to tell with Ayldri—the dry sarcasm that sounded a little too serious sometimes. This gathering had gone on longer than she would've liked it to.

Social battery beyond drained, too tired to put on a smile for faces she'd forget by the time it was ready to go home & spill details to her father. For now, she was contempt with talking to the woman who caught the attention of nearly everyone.

Fingers drum against the marble railing, the idle chatter of highborn guests was distant static in her head as she turns her attention toward the new found face of Westeros. The topic of everyone's conversation. The woman she couldn't figure out no matter how hard she tried.

Silence passes for a while longer—then a sigh, something that sounded like she finally let go of whatever weight was threatening to crush her. “I think. . .” she's trailing off, Ayldri's head tilts to the side as if staring any longer would help her figure out whatever complicated puzzle stood in front of her.

She doesn't know what to think, really. If anything, she was thinking too hard about this. “I think that mystery is a dangerous air to carry around you in Westeros.” Her body turns so she's leaning against the railing no longer letting her fingers tap idly.

“It only leads to prying eyes—or rats lurking where they shouldn't be.” 

[astralier]

@fulgurescent said: ❛ to tell a story is in part to tell a lie, isn't it? ❜ to LOTHÍRIEL!

to be a daughter of the line of the prince is to be raised on stories: tales from númenor and of the elves, amroth and nimrodel, lúthien and beren. stories line the shelves of her father's libraries among and alongside the maps, the histories, the philosophies. it was her mother's voice that had lulled her to sleep at night, singing half-forgotten tales from south gondor.

and yet she knows that there is truth in celestia's words, even in the discomfort of it.

"perhaps," she says, "but just in part, i think. even the lies..." grey eyes turn soft and thoughtful, focused not upon celestia but through the window's light beyond. in thought, she toys with a silver necklace whose tiny hammered-silver swan pendant rests just below her collarbone. absently, a habit she does not know that she has formed. "in greater part, i think it is sometimes the only way to tell a truth." her gaze turns back again, light and almost playful even in their half-solemnity. "like looking at a bright light through darkened glass. some truths are best seen through something not-quite-true."

[absolventiia]

@fulgurescent sent in : ❝  what can i say? the world is an ugly place. we must live in it.  ❞ // for maryse

maryse pauses, looking at this newfound stranger. she is a princess hunting for trade deals, and sothoryos is not as far from dorne compared to other areas of the seven kingdoms, but celestia is altogether a different person than other princesses that maryse has met and played host to. the trade and any alliances would be the sun princess's say, and maryse is meant to simply show celestia around the sun throne and the surrounding grounds of the summer sea ; the conversation has grown deeper -- and the common more complicated -- as their talk goes on.

" . . . perhaps. " maryse says softly. her sunguard move behind her : near perfect shadows, their armor clinking slightly. " or maybe the parts we choose to focus on are ugly, and there are better parts to see that we can remember. " she points out the top of a nearby sun temple, where the rays cast down in bright oranges and yellows. she pulls her bottom lip between teeth. " the desert must be so different compared to your home. do you miss it terribly ? "