#smallfolk oc

[margoshansons]

OF WINE AND MARIGOLDS :: CHAPTER UPDATE ( streets of silk )

His grandfather’s attempts to reform the city had done little for the pungent tang stinging his eyes and swimming up his nose. The new manses built along River Row pushed even more smallfolk out and into the streets, bringing in a flood of new merchants and vendors mostly from the Free Cities and Oldtown. They beat sheets and rags against walls and windows and set up perpetual stalls where once there’d been makeshift shelters.  As a result, Flea Bottom was overflowing.  One could hardly move without bumping into someone else, beggar bowls and drunken snarls traded amongst each other until it ended with blood splatter on the wall and the whistle of the Gold Cloaks.  Daeron crawled against the wall, palms slick with sweat despite the chill in the air, following the sounds of pealed laughter and bards slinging songs for something far sweeter than coin. 

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[margoshansons]

OF WINE AND MARIGOLDS :: CHAPTER UPDATE ( the whipping post )

She has been whipped before.  But still, nothing quite prepares her for the pain that follows. The smack of wood against flesh, ripping and tearing at her skin like dogs hungry for their next meal. She is grateful for the lack of a fire, for if nothing else the chill of the chamber keeps her wounds from puckering and sweat from mixing with the dirt and blood dripping down her back.  “It doesn’t matter,” another voice, harsher than the last snarls out. Laia recognizes it as Samira, the eldest of the housemaids, and one who did not bother to hide her disdain for her position. “Maids do not make mistakes.”

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[margoshansons]

OF WINE AND MARIGOLDS :: CHAPTER UPDATE ( font of mercy )

“I do not have any brothers,” Kiera admitted, “So I suppose he will have to recruit his cousins to defend my honor instead.” “Gods above, I hope not,” Jena laughs as she takes a bite from the miniature sandwiches the cook had prepared for the occasion. Smoked salmon and cream cheese weaves its way through Laia’s nostrils, her stomach grumbling whenever she moves to refill their cups. “Most of them are too young to participate anyway and Daeron, well…he is no warrior that is for certain.”  Laia forces her face to remain impassive at the mention of the blonde Targaryen prince. He’s made it a habit of invading her dreams recently.  It was infuriating.

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[margoshansons]

OF WINE AND MARIGOLDS :: CHAPTER UPDATE ( father's justice )

Daeron knew he should run.  He knew he should remove his mask and ask the City Watch to escort him back to his room.  And yet he could not move his feet.  Soldiers shoved people into lines and kicked stalls over, crunching fruit and jewelry and art under their steel-toed boots without a care. The celebrants scattered, including a figure in gold and black who grasped Daeron’s arm and pulled him along. “What in the seven hells are you doing?” A voice, hoarse and husky–attached to a mane of salt and pepper black hair–yelled over the noise. Daeron blinked, and removed his mask to see the grizzled face of Lyonel Baratheon inches away from his own.

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[margoshansons]

OF WINE AND MARIGOLDS :: CHAPTER UPDATE ( feast of fools )

“Daeron?”  The prince halts in his tracks at the name, pulling the hood from his cloak until it reveals the flop of sandy hair she’d grown used to seeing in the halls. It extends well past his shoulders now, almost long enough to tie back with one of the ribbons Kiera wears.  He freezes like a deer caught in a trap, eyes wide as the sea churns behind them. Laia merely cocks her brow.  “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be down here.” He slurs, stumbling forward until his grasp is secure against the wooden counter. She thinks it might be the only thing keeping him up.  Laia tosses a look over both of her shoulders and then turns back to him.  “It’s the kitchens.” She says matter of factly.  Daeron burps, wet and hot and stinking of wine. “Precisely.”

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[margoshansons]

of wine and marigolds :: chapter update ( two silver stags )

Daeron is sent by his father to the Red Keep in the hopes he will return to Summerhall more of a man than he left. Instead, he finds a girl who pours him wine and smells of marigolds, and discovers that even in dreams he cannot escape her. Daeron the Drunken x OC

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[margoshansons]

OF WINE AND MARIGOLDS :: CHAPTER UPDATE ( dinner and diatribes )

“Thank the gods, I thought you were–” Kiera blinked, dressed in a flowing turquoise dress that matched her lips, painted mouth falling open in surprise at the sight of him. Clearly she was not expecting guests. “...Daeron.” She finishes, dragging his name out slowly.  He shoves a mischievous wince onto his face as he leans against the door with his arms crossed, “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted,” He shoots a look over at Valarr, who looks as though he’s going to throw up, “I mean, I am clearly the much more handsome cousin, wouldn’t you agree, Valarr?” His cousin ignores him and Kiera lifts a brow in blatant curiosity.  Valarr sighed and scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish frown, “Daeron wished to join us for dinner. I saw no reason to deny him.” Kiera’s hooded eyes darted over towards him, growing as wide as saucers, “Is he well?” Daeron rolled his eyes and dropped his arms to his side, “Yes! Why is everyone asking me that?”

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[margoshansons]

of wine and marigolds :: chapter update ( dragon dreams )

Daeron is sent by his father to the Red Keep in the hopes he will return to Summerhall more of a man than he left. Instead, he finds a girl who pours him wine and smells of marigolds, and discovers that even in dreams he cannot escape her. Daeron the Drunken x OC

READ HERE