#norbie 001

[malcontentswanns]

who: @norbiegrafton when and where: two nerds reunite.

of all the things he was expecting to take place this gathering within kings landing, hearing the news that the vale of arryn had acquired the dragonseed name nettles would be far less alarming…if there had been no dragon to come with such a thing. wylliam swann was not the most knowledge regarding the history of dragons, though the name of the beast itself was enough to make him raise his brows: sheepstealer.

it sounded as though the beast would soon become a source of great social tension within the mountains of the moon, if it lived true to it's name. he understood lord deimos velaryon had attempted to speak with the king consort of the vale, the oldest of the royce brothers: though judging by what he had come across, it was not the most successful of conversations. he wondered about his own king, and whether having the dragon in his ownership would prove to be a fatal mistake or something else.

dragons belonged to targaryens - that much was clear and true. but if there was one thing he and his king agreed on, it was the fact that dragons themselves did not belong - not anymore. he sat lazily upon one of the armchairs of kings landing's libraries, taking a moment of respite - hiding, if he were being honest.

upon being appointed as hand of the king, wylliam found that people needed to speak to him more than ever before - and the people who spoke with him, did not think he belonged in such a role due to his stormlander blood. there was an obvious divide within the kingdom of new valyria, and he found himself going mad trying to persuade others of it.

he did not like the feeling that came over him when people looked in such a way - it was degrading, even for a man with no ego or arrogant ways of his own.

he would have remained alone, if he had not already made plans. he was waiting for someone in particular, someone he had not seen in a number of years - and yet, it was one of those dynamics where time could pass and it did not change anything. the distance and the distraction had no hard feelings; his brown orbs flickered up at the noise of the door opening, over the rim of his book. "norbie!" wylliam called him over to where he was sat, his voice momentarily loud in the library.

it was enough to make him internally cringe. "over here." wylliam called again, his voice quieter this time.

[craneofsteel]

setting: the gulltown harbor festival, sora, along with some other members of her household naturally sail to attend the event ; starter for @norbiegrafton

the scent of salt and roasting fish clung to the cool evening air as lanterns flickered to life along the harbor, their golden glow reflecting off the restless waves. the festival was in full swing, sailors bellowed sea shanties over tankards of ale, children darted between stalls, and merchants called out their wares with eager voices. sora weaved through the crown with quiet grace, her attire an ode to her heritage. her robes, deep blue and embroidered with silver thread, draped over a fitted bodice and flowing skirts, cinched at the waist with an obi-style sash. her sleeves were tailored just so, allowing ease of movement, and beneath the silken layers, sturdy boots carried her forward without hesitation.

her household was dispersed among the festivities, but she remained aware of their movements, her gaze keen beneath the delicate mask of composure she wore. sora spotted the ruling lord of gulltown, then, just finishing a conversation as she neared. “lord grafton,” sora said, regarding the other with a dip of her head as the lanternlight caught the silver threads of her sleeves. “your hospitality is as generous as the sea itself. gulltown has outdone itself tonight.”

her gaze swept briefly over the festivities before settling on him once more. “gratitude is never a small thing, and i wished to extend mine personally,” she continued, her voice even, poised. “i passed a merchant’s table earlier, an artisan from the east, pentos, if his speech was any indication.” her lips quirked slightly. “he had some manner of device, a sphere of wood and iron that, when turned, marked the passage of time with near-perfect precision. i had never seen the like before.” she glanced toward the lantern-lit stalls still teeming with trade. “your festival draws many talents, my lord. it is a fine thing to see such craft gathered in one place.”

her gaze returned to him, steady. “i would hope this is only the beginning of a prosperous season for both our houses,” she said. “the world shifts as easily as the sea, but those who learn to navigate its tides rather than be swept away will always find their way to a safe harbor.”

[dctyandhonor]

who: @norbiegrafton where: on the road back to the vale from the westerlands

With a wince, Ginny shifted in her saddle. The procession was slowing a bit after hours of travel, and the shift in tempo had broken up the previously held formation the slightest bit. Just a little ahead, she spotted a rather familiar figure. Despite her sore muscles, Ginevra spurred her horse on until she could reach Lord Grafton. "It's a beautiful day," she began, offering Norbie a wide smile , "but I do regret not choosing the carriage. At least a little bit. How are you faring?"

[paradoxofpresence]

setting: a grand library in the eyrie, lillith runs into an acquaintance at court ; starter for @norbiegrafton

lillith stepped into the library, the quiet warmth of the hearth casting a muted glow across the rows of books. she wasn’t a frequent visitor, preferring to spend her time in more solitary pursuits, but the collection here was useful when she needed to refresh her knowledge. today, her eyes scanned the shelves for a specific text, one on the medicinal properties of herbs. she was absorbed in the hunt when her gaze fell on norbert grafton, tucked into one of the corners of the library, his nose buried in a book.

she wasn’t surprised to see him there; norbie and the library were inseparable. she observed him for a moment before speaking in her usual low, almost monotone voice.

“wouldn't think i’d find you anywhere else,” she remarked dryly, her mismatched eyes drifting over his book without much interest.

he didn’t immediately respond, and so she moved a little closer, not quite interrupting but not entirely waiting for an invitation either.

“i’m looking for a book on herbs,” she continued, her tone as level as ever. “not the standard texts; something more detailed, if you happen to know where it is. i haven’t found it yet.”

she studied the shelves for a moment, then glanced back at norbie. she wasn’t in any real rush—she’d find the book eventually, but it was always easier when someone else already knew where things were kept. and though she wasn’t one to ask for help often, there was no harm in asking someone who likely knew the library better than she did.

[steelandfrost]

setting: the dreadfort, after the kingdoms depart the westerlands, edrick invites his cousin, norbert grafton, whom he gets along well with, to his keep for business purposes ; starter for @norbiegrafton

the wind howled outside the dreadfort, a constant reminder of the harshness of the north. inside, the stone walls of the keep were thick and imposing, the air heavy with the scent of dampness and aged wood. the dim light from flickering torches cast long, wavering shadows along the corridors, the quiet hum of the wind seeping through the cracks of the ancient structure.

edrick stood in the main hall, his hands clasped behind his back, his dark eyes scanning the room with the practiced scrutiny of someone who had spent his life in the shadow of such towering walls. the place was still, the kind of stillness that spoke of long years of neglect rather than peace. despite the grim history that clung to every stone, he had come to feel that something was... missing.

the heavy door creaked open, breaking the silence. edrick’s gaze shifted, his posture straightening as his cousin, norbert grafton, entered the hall, the difference in their appearances was stark: where edrick’s demeanor was controlled, his features sharp and calculating, norbert seemed looser, a little more carefree in the way he carried himself. but the lord of the dreadfort had always respected that about his cousin.

"norbie," edrick greeted, his voice low and measured, "thank you for coming. i hope the journey went well." eyes looked to the keepers of the house, who promptly began to take the grafton lord's belongings to his chambers. "i've had a meal prepared for us. i’ve got something I need your insight on, i'll show you on the way to the dining hall."

[visxionaries]

who: @norbiegrafton when and where: the streets of lannisport, the day before alicent hightower is shot with an arrow and knocked unconscious. the atmosphere is busy considering the upcoming tourney, and king cedric tyrell has best with lord norbert grafton.

he did not entirely remember the time he first realised that norbert of house grafton knew virtually everyone - at least, had some connection to every realm, or held some distant association which could be utilised. there was always some advantage to it all. some silver lining.

"i remember the man. he was known for his skill, even then." what cedric was referring to, was the architect reknowned for putting rough drafts into action. he did not entirely develop on how he remembered him; for he did not speak on his time as an apprentice within a sword smithery, the day he had left behind two golden shrouds within the great sept of highgarden. when none knew if he were dead, or alive.

what cedric found norbert useful for, were his creations; it were slightly uncharacteristic of him to glance down at the sketchbook norbert had been working on some months ago, and yet, when he did he saw sketches of a building. a specific domed shape. "he was one of the few the lannisters trusted to work on securing the stability of the treasury of the rock."

now, the second son of gulltown had been commissioned to draw up plans to extend a magnificent observatory within highgarden's grounds; he would like to find a way to host species and types of items from beyond their climate, though knew that would be difficult to do. truthfully, he had not even fully paid attention to the fact that the graftons and himself shared a cousin in the form of lady matilda tyrell.

"he'll solve a way around your mistake." cedric's voice was casual, but not blunt - referring to a slight hiccup in drafting plans which meant, according to the laws of nature, the dome would not hold. "how long will this lengthen work for?"