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[thefalseandthefair]

ofsecondsons

He could have left, when the nursemaid appeared. He should have left, should have gone back into the party and gotten so drunk he couldn’t see, should have called it a night and gone off to bed, dubbing the whole encounter the hallucinations of a desperate man. It was just that he could not convince his limbs to quite listen to him, frozen in place in the shadows, watching the interaction before him like a statue in the dark. It did not escape him that this woman had achild, but for once Asher’s mind was brutally and completely blank, thoughts lost in a shock that he was not sure he could recover from. Asher felt her grip, felt his body moving, but as if he were in a dream, watching his body from somewhere else. “No,” he responded, voice soft, emotionless. “It does not feel real because it cannot be real. I -” he stopped, swallowing hard, eyes closing as if to shut it all out.

“Again,” Asher repeated, taking a few steps back under the guise of leaning against a nearby tree trunk. The added distance helped little, though, his heart torn between wanting to stepcloser, closer, and wanting to run away and never look back. “If you are who you say you are, then you must know I never stopped thinking about you.” Emotion was slowly starting to trickle back into his body, his words laced with a pained ferocity that left no doubt that he meant what he said. A harsh laugh, full of something one could almost call cruelty, escaped from him before he could stop it. “No, you couldn’t know why I’m here. Why I’m - back.” Just as he couldn’t know why Gwyn was here, why she held an infant so clearly her own. Life - call it their own actions, call it beyond their control - had torn them apart with no hope of reconnecting. And yet, there they were. “I can’t be here?” he asked incredulously, mind still running slowly, trying to process the statement. “I am part of the Dragon King’s army. He pays my wages, and I go where he goes. I have far more of a right to be here than you do.” Count on him, to fall back on anger when the going got too tough.

I never stopped thinking about you. Gwyn could've melted right then, would've given in to impulsive and thrown herself right at him. No amount of time between them could take away from the fact that he would always be a source of security and comfort for her. The cruel reality was she was married, had already tarnished her reputation once before, and couldn't imagine the potential backlash on her daughters should something happen here and now. Gwyn crossed her arms over her chest, inhaling deeply, willing the burning at her eyes to cease. "I've never stopped thinking about you either, Asher." She admitted in response, cursing the tears that fell down her cheek before quickly wiping it away with the sleeve of her dress.

What was once a burning sadness and loss, turned into a burning rage. The second his words fell upon her ears she nearly closed the distance between them, anger clear across her face as she spoke. "Classic Asher to turn on me the second you show some vulnerability!" Gwyn began, almost laughing at the similarity to the boy she knew a decade before. She knew it was all a front, but she was not happy at it being used against her. "You have more of a right to be here, yet you lurk in the shadows while I sit amongst the guests!" She added matter of factly. "You clearly don't want your presence to be that obvious, Asher. Don't forget I know you. It may have been years, we may be different, but this is very much the same person I knew." She sighed, taking a single step back. "You're drunk. You should go sleep it off." Gwyn paused a moment, however. "Why are you back?"

[bnmxfld]

“These mountains that you are carrying, you were only supposed to climb.”

— Najwa Zebian

[thefalseandthefair]

ofthegallant

Being around Leonette always brought a sense of calm and clarity to Garlan. It had been that way since the first time they’d met; he knew from one conversation that she was the woman he would marry. In the years since they’d developed a certain method of communicating without words in a way he’d only ever had with his siblings. As such, he knew just how exhausted of it all she felt, just as she likely knew he shared the sentiment. “Ours are more tasteful, though.” He sniffed, eyeing the admittedly a bit gaudy decor, though he turned to her with a teasing smile. Highgarden events were certainly just as lavish and over the top, if a touch more floral.

Garlan knew just what feeling she spoke of all too well, had felt the same sense of unease and tension since they’d arrived in the capital. Every second, it felt more and more as if they were all teetering on the edge of a precipice, just waiting for the first person to tumble over. This was hardly the place to voice such concerns, though, and so he dropped his voice to a quieter register and tilted his head towards his wife’s before responding. Let others think they were merely exchanging tender nothings. “I know,” he confessed. “It’s only a matter of time before something major happens, I can feel it. Between the King in the North’s new bride and so many questions left unanswered about the kidnappings…” Garlan sighed, the weight of it all pressing on him, though he kept his courtly mask firmly in place. “All I wish is for our safe return home -all of us.”

Leonette kept her face calm, but his words caused her heart to beat even faster. She was already worried about what was to come, especially with her husband being at the front of the military portion of it. She never worried, usually, but she didn't want to show that, even to Garlan. She was sure if she asked him not to go to battle, he might even considered staying for her. That's something she would never do, but it was tempting. The rumors and whispers swirled around them, as if a melodic tune to pair with the music.

She leaned closer to him, using the same intimate body language to shield their conversation. "Have you heard something, Garlan?" She questioned, wondering if perhaps a decision, a rumor, something was on his mind that hadn't met her ears yet. "I can't imagine we leave all of this without some kind of involvement." She sighed. "Certainly Cersei will try to use Margaery's short-lived affiliation to her advantage."

[thefalseandthefair]

sofina mallister || closed for @seagards​ || the stark wedding celebration

Being back with her fellow Northerners made Sofina happier than she had expected. Her life in the Riverlands was wonderful, truly. She loved her knew home, but many things about it were quite the culture shock for her, and being around the familiarity these people brought her was joyful. Being near all of her family was also a plus. While there were some tensions and disagreements about the reasoning behind the celebration, it seemed rather cordial for at least this one night and for that she was thankful. Watching her twin boys run about made her heart soar. As the night grew later, she handed her youngest to the nursemaid and instructed her boys to follow as well for it was time for bed. It wasn’t often she didn’t retire with them, but tonight was special.

Feeling a moment of freedom, Sofina downed her wine, laughing and dancing with old friends. And finally she found her way back to her love, Patrek. “Are you enjoying the evening, dear?” She asked, her cheeks a bit flushed from the wine, and a grand smile stretching from ear to ear. “I hope you’re allowing yourself to have some fun.” She added, teasingly.

[thefalseandthefair]

oflioncss

Myrcella was beginning to see just why her parents had always loved wine so much. Sure, she’d been drunk before, but between the carefree excitement in the inn and the free-flowing spirits, she felt a bit as if she could take on the world. Passing along from one conversation to another, talking to friends and enemies and strangers alike, Myrcella found herself particularly grateful for their host of the evening. It seemed as if the lords and ladies of the realm had dropped their courtly masks for the evening, and Myrcella had joined in right along with them. Gone was the prim and gracious princess, in her place the wild and free young woman she hadn’t been since she’d left Dorne.

“Ser Tobin,” Myrcella greeted with an exaggerated curtsy, still perfect in her manners even as the room seemed to spin around her. “Oh, it’s such a marvelous night, is it not? I do so hope you are enjoying yourself as much as I am.” Her usual innocent smile had turned into something wide and open, and she grasped ahold of his hands in earnestness. “Have you seen Ser Arys? He’s been given the night off, but whoever will protect me now?” With a laugh as if the whole world was a joke, Myrcella spun around, nearly spilling her wine as she made a show of searching for her beloved protector.

If his cheeks weren't already flushed from the ale coarsing through his veins, the mere presence of the princess would give away his feelings for her, complicated as they were. She was radiant as always, her bright smile was one he could catch from across the room, her manner and poise unmatched. Tobin would never admit this, of course, at least not soberly. He kept trying to catch himself from staring a moment too long, but he just couldn't help it. "This night has been much needed, indeed." He nodded.

Tobin let out a hearty laugh as she spun and acted so....free. He adored Myrcella as she was, calm and collected, but seeing her be able to let go for once in her life brought him joy. Dramatically he cleared his throat and held out his elbow for her to take. "It would be my honor to serve as your protector for the night, princess." He sai. "If you honor me with a dance, that is." He winked.

[thefalseandthefair]

donnel locke || open starter || the stark wedding celebration

The night was cool and blissful, the sound of celebrating filled his ears, bringing a smile to his tired, dried lips. The events of late had kept him up all sorts of hours, and he couldn’t remembered the last time he had much of a restful sleep. He assumed tonight might be one of those times, and that all but caused him to want to turn in immediately. He knew he couldn’t. Donnel always played the part of mediator. There was always some argument. Over ale, over crops, it didn’t matter, tonight was not the night for such things. The King in the North earned a night of celebration, to not have to deal with the bickering of his kinsmen.

As the thoughts passed his mind, he heard such an argument happening right before his eyes. Damn. He sighed and walked over, separating the toy men, looks of disappointment as if a father scolding sons is all it took for the men to grumble apologies and be on there ways. It was tiring, not being able to actually invest himself in the party, but at the same time, he didn’t mind being the peacekeeper if he had to, and at this point he knew he did have to. Finally gripping his mug of ale, he took a long sip. “I gather that will not be the first disagreement I will have to break up this evening.” He said allowed to no one in particular.

[thefalseandthefair]

talisa maegyr || closed starter for @ofthewaters​ || harry’s celebration at the inn

The journey to Westeros was rougher than Talisa had ever imagined. She made a note that if she were to ever return, it was only because it was absolutely necessary, and that a life or journey on a ship just wasn’t one for her. Still, she was grateful to Aurane for allowing her aboard, despite it being a favor returned to her. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do from here on out, but she was determined to help as much as she could, especially now that war was brewing in this Realm. Silently, Talisa made a vow to remain as neutral as she could, and to help anyone injured in the battles surely to come.

For now, she continued her journey with Aurane and his crew, finding herself at a quaint inn with a large amount of people, who seemed to vary in wealth and status and all came to celebrate the moment of peace that was amongst them all. She sipped her wine, noting how different the flavors were from what she was used to in Volantis, and for a brief moment, she missed her home. The moment passed in the blink of an eye, and she told herself, again, that home was not the place she once believed it to be. She had changed. And at that she took another long sip, finally spotting Aurane amongst a crowd, women seemed to flock to him at every corner. She approached him, meek smile on her face as her eyes glanced around at the girls who seemed desperate to woo him. “This is certainly a side of Westeros I hadn’t imagined to see anytime soon. I just wanted to extend my thanks again. And honestly I have no idea who anyone is, so perhaps I’m a bit desperate for any sort of conversation.” She gave a small laugh, feeling a bit silly for seeking out the one person she knew. 

[bidoctor]

[thefalseandthefair]

B R Y C E

Usually taciturn and far from loquacious, if there was one subject that he was guaranteed to voice his opinion on it was Renly Baratheon. Still, compliments made him uneasy and he was quick to shrug it off with an short explanation of just how well the two of them knew one another. “We have known one another for years.” Bryce had always been quick to remove himself from the conversation but he had yet to neglect to mention one bit of praise for the man he privately thought so highly of. “He is a far more worthy Lord than most give him credit for.” With his endorsement of Renly’s character given, he set about tearing as he had been asked to do, pausing only when she approached him once more. Though this time the request was much different and far more unexpected.

Blood was something that he was more than slightly accustomed too when he had spent years forging a life out of his blade and the relief and distraction from his anger that it brought. He knew that there was nothing particularly glorious about violence and he could not claim to be particularly proud of how well he lent himself to it. At that moment he was somewhat grateful for the way he was desensitised to the red liquid, neither hesitating nor balking at the sight of it and instead he simply tied the knot. Perhaps if he were being honest there was more care taken that usual to ensure that rough hands had been gentle in the movements, knowing that the wound would undoubtedly sting. “Is that secure enough?” He wished instead to ask her if it was too tight, unwilling to think that he might have inflicted more pain but he settled for his initial choice of words. Passing the concern in his tone off for concern over the job he had done rather than how she was. His name left his lips simply, never having seen a reason to dress it up any more than was needed. “Bryce Caron.”

“I agree. It would seem we both know Lord Renly well.” Meredyth replied. She couldn’t help but stare at rough, worn hands as the worked carefully to tie the fabric over her wound. He was clearly a warrior, if his demeanor wasn’t a giveaway, all she had to do was see it in his hands. It surely explained his personality, too. Meredyth let out a sharp gasp when he tightened it, but the pain was only a moment. “Yes it is, thank you.” She took her hand back, attempting to make a fist slowly.

At the reveal of his name, Meredyth’s doe eyes widened slightly. She felt her heart skip a beat, some of the blood drain from her face. She couldn’t believe this was how she would first meet her betrothed. She always imagined it quite different, more eloquent, as he seemed in his letters. Then she let out a laugh, covering her mouth. “Well, it seems we will get to know each other much better very soon. I am your betrothed. Meredyth Cafferen.” Of course, now she had all sorts of questions, but from his demeanor, he would be a hard book to decipher, and she certainly was excellent at reading books. “Although you haven’t written in a while.” She admitted, voice slightly sullen. “I suppose you have been busy.” Too busy for his betrothed, but she would not say that aloud.

[thefalseandthefair]

M Y R C E L L A

for most of her life, everything myrcella had done had been in the public eye. it had never bothered her, truly, and had in fact suited her well in dorne, where the men were more carefree and the women more open. it was not until her time in highgarden that myrcella began to feel the need for some conversations to occur in private, behind closed doors. in truth, myrcella had never really had secrets until her father died, had never had the kind of doubts that now plagued her constantly. where once her concerns had held the naivete and innocence of a spoiled girl, now she knew that everything she revealed gave others power over her. it struck her, as they spoke, how out in the open they were, and a small part of myrcella mourned the jovial, breezy girl she no longer was even as her skin crawled with the desire to hide her sadness from the public eye. “come,” she said, smiling softly and grabbing ahold of meredyth’s hand. “let us go somewhere a bit quieter, hm?”

taking a step away from the crowds of people, myrcella let out a deep breath of air. “in dorne i felt… untouchable,” she mused, trying to find a proper word to describe the feeling and the trying one on for size. the itch to switch the conversation topic to something lighter was strong, but myrcella swallowed the nerves that came with how irregularly the golden princess spoke of - or even thought on - such weighty topics. she was changing, she reminded herself, growing up and finding some stable footing in the mad world surrounding her. “even at peace, we are all still at each others’ throats.” her thoughts strayed back to the kidnappings, as they often did, and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting them pass. “has the world always been like this, and we were just too blind to notice?”

Meredyth could somewhat imagine the pressure and anxiousness Myrcella now felt in large groups like this. She remembers the many talks her mother had with her about how it was after her father’s passing, how she had to watch every word she spoke. And Myrcella, after all, is the daughter of the late King, a throne that is now up for the taking by so many. She felt nervous for her, and gave a quick nod when the other took her hand and led her to a more quiet, private place. She herself felt more at ease when they had some more privacy.

“I can’t disagree with that.” Meredyth replied, chewing nervously at her bottom lip at the thought that peace was such an achievable thing. Only some comfort was, but true peace? Impossible. Even with someone finally sitting on the throne, there will always be battles, big and small, to be had about one thing or another. After some thinking, she gave a nod. “Our mother’s sheltered us far too much. I know they meant well, but look what it’s done. It’s such a dangerous world now and we’re having to figure out how to live in it all over again.”

[iron-veined-deactivated20210612]

Stark Wedding || Plot Drop 2.6

Half awake as he’d been, Theon had been aware enough when he found Robb at his bedside. They’d spoken for as long as he’d been able to keep his eyes open, relieved they could smooth over their prior argument. A decision to remain with the Ironborn had not been met with animosity, for they had both agreed it was in Theon’s best interest to rekindle a relationship with his family, and he’d been quick to remind Robb that he was not far should he be needed. The oath he’d taken promised his sword and life should it be required, but he would give both willingly even if he’d not bent the knee that night Robb had been named king.

And then came the joyous news of his proposal to Mira–a turn from serious subject matter to joyous smiles for another good occasion within a dark time. Arriving at King’s Landing promised to put a damper on things, but with his steady healing and an invitation from Robb to be present for the wedding, Theon was in better spirits. Upon the arrival of the Greyjoy ships, he would then make sail with his brother for Pyke, stand present for another marriage he very much looked forward too, and finally be reunited with his mother after so many years away. The fighting could, for now, wait.

Out of respect, Theon had intended to remain towards the back of the visitors during the feast, but Robb had invited him forward, giving him a place among the table meant for the Starks. It had been an honor to take a seat there, especially without trying to blend into the rest of the northerners as he used to, and for once, he felt a proper part of both of his adored families.

Another glass of wine was poured for him just as a plate of food was set on the table, dressed and garnished with a wide array of options. As loaded as the tables were, Theon knew it would have been ten times more grand should they have been in Winterfell, but unfortunately the tides of war did not part for any man, not even the king. Even so, there was plenty of laughter and smiles all around, many of those present already digging deep into their drinks in celebration.

Theon held a hand out to steady one of which that passed him by, swaying from either early intoxication or perhaps trying to work through the many trying to dance between the tables. “Mind your step, else you’ll fall face first onto the ground, unless you get lucky and land in someone’s lap instead.” He smirked.

[thefalseandthefair]

Meredyth never quite expected to find herself at the Stark wedding, but some of her Northern friends had mentioned it to her, and she felt obliged to at least pay some respects to them and celebrate. After all, in the midst of the chaos and battles, such peace that was going around would not last. This was a chance for her to see friends, and perhaps meet more allies. She would be able to form better opinions about the future of Westeros, which is probably what she liked most about coming to this event.

Still, she was not easily brought out of her shell. Even with some she was comfortable with and knew, she was mostly amongst people she had no idea who they were. The culture of the North, even, felt so different and this celebration surely represented that. Meredyth sipped her wine on the side of the room, just admiring people from afar, watching the beautiful bride and handsome groom make their rounds, but always come back to each other after every few dances. She quite admired a love like that, and hoped she should be lucky enough to possess it one day with her betrothed.

Realizing she was out of wine, Meredyth turned to her friend and told her she was getting another refreshment. She thought this would be her last before she retired for the evening. The events had exhausted her, physically and emotionally, but she wanted to at least give herself credit for trying to attend these more often. On her way to the wine, she managed to get bumped by a dancer, and stumbled slightly, cursing herself for attempting to navigate the tables while people danced around them. Suddenly, she felt hand on her arm, steadying her.

She looked down to see a man she didn't recognize, and while his tone seemed teasing, she wasn't sure what exactly was intended by them. "Oh, yes. Wouldn't want to do that. I'm rather clumsy sometimes." She admitted, flushed from embarrassment. "Do you happen to know where I could find more wine?"

[xmusiings]

What is a wave, without the ocean? A beginning without an end? They are different, but they go together. 

Now you go among the stars, while I fall among the sand. 

We are different, but we go together. 

[thefalseandthefair]

@ofnightscng

[thefalseandthefair]

M Y R C E L L A

myrcella had a tendency to assume that others lived their lives in the same manner that she lived hers. whenever she traveled, it was with fanfare, and so she simply assumed others traveled in the ornate wheelhouses her mother favored for her. wherever myrcella went, some of the best soldiers in the seven kingdoms trailed her, and so she simply assumed others were as well guarded and protected as she. as such, it was no matter for myrcella to travel amongst the kingdoms on a whim, and so it always came as a shock to the golden princess when others could not move about quite so freely. for her, a trip to visit this lord or that friend, while filled with pomp and circumstance, was entirely at her discretion to take. seeing meredyth, she was confronted with the fact that this was not so for everyone - else would she not have seen her old friend sooner?

although she felt at ease seemingly everywhere she went - the arrogance of a girl who had the world at her feet - being back in the red keep after so long away felt queer to myrcella. walking the halls of her youth, everything felt so familiar and yet still a lifetime away; in truth, sunspear had well and fully become her home in a way these walls were not. meredyth felt the same, a comforting reminder of the past, yet someone who, for reasons outside of her control, was not a part of her present life. perhaps she was kidding herself, but as far as myrcella was concerned, reuniting with her friend was as good a way as any to bridge this new gap between worlds. “yes - it’s been years since i was last here, and i am glad to see it has not changed too much in my absence,” she laughed, a twinkling sound that brought some life back into her tired eyes. for weeks, myrcella had been trying desperately to hide just how strongly she had been affected by the kidnappings and the rescue, but with meredyth’s admission, she let the mask drop. “it has been a trying time,” she admitted quietly, shifting her gaze to the floor. “with joffrey, and then almost losing tommen and the rest of them - i find myself wishing for nothing more than to return to dorne, truly.”

Myrcella's response quickly brought Meredyth to realize just how much money couldn't save people from. The other's wealth and position didn't save Joffery, it didn't keep Tommen from iminent danger. Sure, they couldn't offered gold and wealth and position to his captors, but ultimately they were not the one's in control, and she couldn't imagine how helpless the Lannister's felt in that. In a way, she hoped it might've opened Cersei Lannister's eyes to the fact that her way of ruling and living was not always going to get her out of trouble, or keep enemies at bay. In fact, sometimes it might welcome them. However, she didn't exactly wish ill on the family, and was glad for Tommen's safe return.

The beautiful lioness in front of her, however, seemed to fall far from the branch of the Lannister name. Although she bore the name Baratheon, it was clear Lannister blood flowed through her veins. She had almost every trait physically, but her personality was not quite up to par, and that was a good thing. She was kind and compassionate, something Meredyth believed would get people further in this world than money. "I imagine Dorne feels like a safe haven, but the entire world is changing." She replied, her face slightly solemn. "These things will keep happening until a ruler is chosen. We are all at peace for now, but I fear it will not last. I wish it would all be over soon."

[thefalseandthefair]

ofstormlands

“ from someone who never had a mother - i can only say you’ve been blessed. ” he was far too young when his parents had died; stannis and robert had watched lord steffon and lady cassana’s ship drown from the cliffs of storm’s end, and renly had been just a babe of less than a year. but it had been stannis and ser cortnay who had raised him, cared for him, let him play at dragons and magic because he had never known a mother’s love or a father’s guidance. nobody ever remembered that. “ even if she might be…overprotective at times? ” a smirk played on his lips, the slightest worry to his brows. it was his business as lord paramount to be aware of his people; maybe he was better at it than his brothers because he actually cared for his people - something neither robert nor stannis had ever done. “ although she’s been through enough to warrant it - hasn’t she? ”

renly had just taken an overly big gulp of his drink when meredyth mentioned bryce, and he choked on the wine immediately - spilling it on himself in more unceremonious a fashion than he ever had before. he coughed a few times again, struggling to find the right words. “ i think i died for a moment - did you say bryce caron? ” even if he would never admit it in words or looks or give any tangible inclination of it, the lord paramount of the stormlands knew that bryce was one of his closest friends in the world. he had been welcomed at storm’s end when his family had all perished, invited back for every occasion, every masquerade, every nameday, every celebration that renly ever held. he had sent a raven to bryce after robert’s death, and his fellow stormlord had joined him immediately; bryce had stayed by his side, even when others had continued to underestimate him. and he was here now, in the camps. “ you’re betrothed…to lord caron? ” his first thought was that he couldn’t wait to ask bryce about it, a smile twitching onto his lips even if he tried to stay calm. renly only spoke when he was certain he wouldn’t break out into the biggest grin. gods, this was funny. “ he’s on the road, so i suspect he hasn’t had time to write. but surely - meredyth, surely you must have met him back home? at storm’s end? ”

he couldn’t wait to tell loras about bryce and meredyth, but then he remembered: an his smile broke away into something shaky and fragile. instead, he poured out more wine for himself and took a large sip. “ oh, yes. there’s a… ” renly took another sip just for good measure, his head just a little hazy and his movements just a little clumsy. “ …very special bond between us. ” it made him rage that he couldn’t tell people of it, that others thought nothing of what he and loras truly were - that anyone would have the audacity to think they could challenge a love like theirs. but it also made him smile to think he had been given a love rarer than most. “ he’s my favourite person, really. we’ve been…friends a long time, and he’s my better half. ” meredyth seemed to be drunk enough to forget most of what he said, so he thought nothing of it. instead, renly reached over for the pitcher of water with a low chuckle. “ perhaps we should wean off the wine? or else i might just tell you all my secrets. ”

It was true, her mother had every reason to be as protective as she was. And truthfully Meredyth was grateful of how caring she was, even if it was overbearing at times. She knew she could’ve been left off a lot worse. She never got to have her own father, or a father figure of any kind, so having a mother who filled both roles was everything to her. “She has.” She replied solemnly, taking another large sip from her cup, feeling a little saddened by the thought. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to endure half of what her mother has. “I may complain, but I am truly blessed to have her.” Meredyth added.

Renly’s reaction to the name of her betrothed caught her completely off guard. He had to know him, but was this a good thing or a bad thing? Of course, Renly knew lots of people, especially those from the Stormlands. Perhaps this was an opportunity to get some information on just what kind of person Bryce Caron was. “Yes I am. I suppose I’ll give him that but many write while traveling. I’m afraid he must be put off by me.” This was absolutely the wine talking, she would never really admit she was afraid he didn’t like her. Even if she was, she knew in sober terms it wouldn’t matter and telling anyone could only bring trouble. “It’s true, I’ve never met him, you know my mother.” She joked. “You must tell me about him, I gather you know him well? Can you see us being a....decent match? Would he be a good husband? Does he like books?”

Meredyth could see something in Renly when he spoke of Loras. She hasn’t gathered they were so close as he mentioned. She felt even worse about all that has happened now. “Sometimes we find our better halves without looking.” She replied with a smile, then laughed. “You know I am the least likely to spread gossip! But I suppose we all must have some secrets to keep.”

[thefalseandthefair]

H A R R Y || celebration at the inn

Something close to relief ran through him when she agreed to sit with him. Perhaps he was not such a sorry state after all. Almost solemn nod was given to her in response to her statement. “I would say that everyone could.” He might have spent year upon year of his life being self absorbed but he was not entirely blind to the world around him, only mostly. And so despite always being wrapped up in his own need and wants, he knew he was far from the only person to have taken the events so hard. Stress was clear on almost everyone’s features and he knew exhaustion was rife in their ranks, a drink would solve nothing but perhaps soothe some of it.

Grin sparked up on his features, unforced and genuinely bright. “If it is recommendations you are after then you have come to the right man.” Perhaps he should not have taken such pride in his knowledge of alcohol but at that moment in time he was not sure what else he could pride himself on. He had had his moment of clarity and he might start making decisions more shrewdly in the feature but at that moment he was more than happy to take up his usual role of entertainer.

Smooth but excited words flowed easily from his lips, glad to have a familiar situation facing him once more. He had spent so much of his time outside of The Vale feeling out of his depth also but this, this was something he knew perhaps better than anyone. “What would you say you preferred, strength or taste? Sweet or something a little more bitter? Rough or so smooth you forget you are drinking it?”

Meredyth wasn't particularly big on large celebrations, and while it took quite a bit of convincing from some friends to join, she decided to just go ahead and do it. It had been a long few weeks. First worrying about those taken, the relief when they were rescued, but then the exhaustion of tending to the wounded day and night. She wasn't sure how much she had really slept in all that time, but it certainly wasn't much. She knew she owed it to herself to enjoy this time, this time between battles, when everyone seemed to be sharing the same side. It was a fleeting moment that she wanted to catch and she appreciated that Harry took it and ran with it and created this opportunity for celebration. It may not have been the intention that she views it as, but it's something.

He was quite the host, and she was probbaly going to be the quietest guest of all. The people around them seemed to be having a grand time, and she begant to feel the anxiousness that crept up when she wasn't sure if she had made the best decision. She began to feel out of place. She knew she needed to drink something, wind down, and at least stay for long enough to finish it before calling it a night.

"Um, smooth I forget I'm drinking it." She laughed, completely unsure of what sort of cocoction he might come up with. "I must be honest, I have never really ventured with different types of drinks. I've never had the chance to. You'll have to forgive my cluelessness."

[thefalseandthefair]

B R Y C E

While there seemed little point denying that he had never felt at home even in Nightsong after the death of his family, he felt even more out of place in a medical tent. He had always been on the other side of the blade. The one inflicting the wounds that would cause a man to end up in such a place and so rarely was he the one to require assistance himself. That was not to say that he was infallible with a sword but rather he always had a stubborn refusal to neither ask for help nor even need it. Determination to remain self sufficient and not to rely on anyone for even the smallest of things meant that he had been stitching up his own wounds for as long as he could remember.

Still, there was something close to admiration felt within him for all those who had gathered with the intention of healing and helping others. He could not remember the last time that he had felt so altruistic. With a small nod of acknowledgement he set to work on what she had asked. “It is Lord Renly you have to thank, not I.” In his opinion the Baratheon did not receive nearly enough credit nor acknowledgement and although he did not say much, he would ensure that those around him knew who to thank. “I suppose we should pray that there are not many who find their way here.” He did not mean for such bitterness to come into his tone, gruff words still managing to have some bite in them, when she seemed like a decent sort. Perhaps just as tired of it all as he was. But his dislike of the gods was strong enough to cut through the censor that he usually imposed upon himself.

There was something about the man Meredyth couldn't quite put her finger. He was polite enough, well, he was nice enough to even come help her in the first place with such mundane tasks. She supposed that yes, Renly was to thank for it, but this man was equally to thank for coming when he was asked of it, and she hoped to make sure he knew that. "I thank you both." She replied with a smile. "Knowing Lord Renly as I do he wouldn't have just sent anyone to come help me. He trusts you." Meredyth wasn't sure if that was a compliment more on Renly's judge of character, or this man's person, but she supposed it could be received either way.

After finishing the linen she had been tearing, she reached into a crate of herbs to begin sorting what they may need for different sorts of injuries. Suddenly, she felt a sharp prick on her palm and gave a sharp gasp as she jerked her hand back. She looked down to see a cut about a couple inches long that began to already bleed a bit. It looked worse than it was, but it stung pretty awful. Meredyth peeked back into the crate to see the culprit and noticed a knife had managed to find its way tucked into the pile of herbs. "I have no idea how a knife managed to get in there." She muttered, going back to her pile of torn linens and attempting to patch up her little wound. "Would you mind tying this off for me?" She asked, holding up her hand with the linen now pressed against the wound. "I apologize, I've completely failed to get your name, my Lord."

[thefalseandthefair]

M Y R C E L L A

regular trips to storm’s end had been a beloved part of myrcella’s life from the time she was old enough to be trusted alone with renly - for her mother never cared to join - until she departed for dorne some years ago. though cersei had complained and tywin turned up his nose, robert had insisted his children know their baratheon roots, and myrcella was all too happy to comply. occasionally, robert himself would make the journey with her, or tommen, but more often than not it was her alone who ventured to her father’s familial lands. where casterly rock was filled with riches and grace, the stormlands were full of a wilder beauty that fascinated myrcella just as much. she’d made friends there just as she made friends everywhere she went, friends who made her all the more excited for each trip.

it had been a long time (a lifetime, it seemed) since she had last seen her, but myrcella would have recognized that voice anywhere. although she wore the stresses of recent days clearly in the harsh lines on her face, mind constantly wandering, the greeting snapped the girl before her into sharp focus. for the first time that day, a real, genuine smile crossed myrcella’s lips. “mere!” she exclaimed with a surprised gasp, “have you been with the camps long? i had no idea - oh, it is so good to see you.” the bubble of pain and anxiety left in the wake of the kidnapping threatened to burst in a surge of emotions, and myrcella felt quite silly for the strength of her reaction even as she pulled her old friend into a familiar embrace. having wandered from task to task all day in an effort to keep her mind from straying to tommen, it seemed the perfect distraction had found her. “how have you fared? you must tell me everything that’s happened since we last met.”

Meredyth always admired the beautiful Lannister girl. She wondered what wonderful places she got to see and things she got to do. Mere was blessed in her own ways, but sheltered so much she felt like she was smothered. Getting to catch up with Myrcella was always like an adventure for her. Coming to the Red Keep for Cersei’s event didn’t take much convincing for her. If anything, she knew she would get to see her friend, and she was glad that it didn’t take long for her to find her.

The embrace was more than welcomed, and felt a long time coming. Mere wasn’t the most open book, but she was a loyal friend to those who were dead to here. Myrcella certainly made that lists “Yes, almost too long. It’s nice to be here in the Keep for a change.” She felt a twinge if guilt and quickly waved off the statement. “I’m not ungrateful, or unhappy with the help I’ve given. I’m just....exhausted.” She admitted, feeling the front she put on for this event begin to slip away. She took a long sip of wine and sighed. “How are you dear friend? I am so relieved for Tommen’s safe return, and the others.”