#sunw:starter

[ynysand-blog]

She needed a walk. The sun was setting, and nighttime was the best time to go out, as long as you had a sword by your side. Nobody would want to threaten you if you had a weapon and knew how to use it, or at least pretended to know to use it. Thankfully for Ynys, she knew how to use it. She found herself not too far from the palace when she stopped at the well. And to her surprise, she wasn't alone.

"I hope you are well, this late at night," she smiled at the person by the well.

[myrcolla]

the responsibilities of a queen consort were slim, and any that had been bestowed upon her she had grasped with both hands. perhaps expanded them to dramatic lengths, but then, who could blame her? how else was she expected to keep such a bright mind busy? of these few duties, hosting was one. and host she did. the dining hall of highgarden often filled to the brim as she held court in her husband’s absence. with nightly entertainment and feasts they couldn’t afford on display. what harm could pretending they had money do. myrcella knew full well that all was not as it seemed, that everything on show cost not nearly as much as she’d have them believe.

“at least someone is enjoying themselves.” the queen’s delicate fingertips trace her goblet as she quirks an amused brow at the sight before her. of a lady and her gentlemanly guest for the evening, cackling in a way that could only be fuelled by alcohol. “are you having just as much fun?” she glances side ways, storm grey eyes glinting teasingly as she raises her wine to her lips.

[balianryswell]

Where Lady Bolton went, he followed. However, that did not mean he was welcomed to go everywhere with her. While Gilliane was occupied with dealing with highborns of other houses Balian was met with closed doors more often than not even if his name granted him the rank of a lord as well. For some reason for certain people it was easy to forget he had that title, frequently receiving the treatment of a mere soldier. Sometimes he did not bother to argue and correct their mistake. Deep down he was indeed more of a soldier than a lord, after all.

While his lady was busy the young man took to walking around the area, mostly to become acquainted with the landscape and architecture of the place. Reconnaissance, some would call it. It was engrained into him to act in such a way, to survey and be prepared for any signs of a threat. For such reason Retribution was strapped to his back as was his custom, keeping his sword on him at all times. As he wandered around he encountered a few servants and chambermaids that avoided him and his steps then led him to find someone in the courtyard, back turned as the Ryswell lord approached and clearly focused on their own musings.

[meeraumber-blog]

“How quaint, is it not?” she spoke, taking a sip from the glass of wine she had been nursing for a while. “All the rulers of the different realms, all the lords and ladies from all over Westeros, gathered here pretending for one night that we actually enjoy each others’ company”. The tone in her voice was all honey, yet the words clearly held much vinegar. She even smiled a little, a perfect lady’s smile, adding more to the dissonance of what she said and how she said it.

[aidan-redfort-blog]

The air felt suffocating within the castle walls. He couldn’t fathom why, only that perhaps the memories of his father began to flood his thoughts and like a poison., the grief began to set in. He had hardly received a chance to say goodbye to the late lord Redfort as their last conversation with one another had cut short due to his father’s withering condition. Neither had said ‘I love you,’ for the words were not needed. Instead they looked upon one another and smiled, and his father said, ‘You are a man now so be it. And keep her around.’ Keep her around. Without hearing her name he knew his father spoke of his healer, Jana, the woman Aidan had somehow fallen madly in love with. 

Such thoughts plagued him as he’d wandered through the castle halls, enough to make his lungs constrict and the air knock out of him. He grasped the castle walls for support as he breathed in deeply, releasing it once he found himself deep within the courtyard just behind the castle. It took was like a maze, almost, with many twists and turns, he found himself standing before another that he had not expected to find.  “Oh you’ll have to excuse me, I needed a bit of fresh air. I didn’t think anyone else was here.” The commander apologized quickly, though he didn’t leave. 

[torrhenxkarstark]

He was about as interested in the coronation as he was with the back of his eyelids. Another southern king that had little impact on what occurred in the north. This one unable to even speak for himself. His mother giddy with new found power that was ripped from her step daughter. A quarrel between the two would have been far more interesting than watching everyone gossip with one another over goblets of ale and wine. His own goblet filled several times, but still not enough to make him numb. 

His gaze was on parchment in front of him. A raven sent from his youngest brother back home. The lord’s paranoia forcing him to always have one Karstark in Karhold. Mostly containing insults about Torrhen’s decision. Stating the lord should have just stayed in Karhold himself if the coronation was so dull. His little brother’s largest concern finding a wife. There are greater things to worry about. The lord thought. And you will find nothing but drunk ladies filled with empty promises at a party like this. 

With the approach of a servant, Torrhen pulled the parchment from his attention. Stuffing it in his pocket for later. He grabbed one of the mugs of ale presented, eager to forget who he was by the end of the night. “This southern ale is weak.” He commented. “In the North you’re durnk after three. But here it takes eight before you feel a thing.” 

[drcwncd]

❝ Have you not heard? You do not interupt a man in prayer. ❞ Only slightly dazed by his drink, the King of the Isles was unsure of who he spoke to or even if he spoke to anyone at all. Andrik dipped his head back and a cup of ale followed close behind. Turning to the figure a smile crept on his face though it was never very telling. Joy, rage, confusion and intrigue  looked all the same on him.

[addison-stark-blog]

“I’m to be wedded!” Addison exclaimed with a smile that bloomed from ear to ear. “Seven hells, I’m to be wedded.” He spoke under his breath. He hadn’t met her yet, but he had heard tales of her beauty. “Is it appropriate to be nervous now, or later? A pint of ale might be calling my name.”