between the greys of shadow and stone, vaelena watches overΒ Β AURION PYKEΒ in silence. β±Β @bloomsredΒ
there was a sickness that came with the sea. it turned the stomachs of land-borne men, slipping their innards inside-out like lambskin gloves, and stole away the good hearts of those who lived by the salt by rending from them their affection for all else. it had turned her ill in its own way, vaelena knewΒ β a pearl was borne from the affliction of its hostΒ β but she loved dearly her own indisposition.
as another licked by the depths, itβs his ailment that she looks for between the blades of his shouldersΒ β watching as salt accumulates there from the effort he expends, trying to read the sweat the way some harridans gauge arrangements of cards. itβs the malady sheβs interested in. the sickness. she thinks she can see something there in the way he bends over the whetstone, tight as the hook in a dying creature.
βi never met your father, lord pyke.β she slips forth unheard, a little blade that has worn softly through its sheath and been stuck gently between your ribs.Β
shortly after arrival at the eyrie, the white ladyΒ crosses the great hall to join her brother, only to be stopped by the vestige of gods: YADGAR GREYSTARKβs great axe. β± @godfeller
the long cool silver of her hair laps against the fur at her back, a trace of seafoam that has trailed from the blackwater peninsula up into the valeβs cool mountains. there is a disconcerting serenity with which the white lady of driftmark glides through the otherwise messily populated area, and if it is merely expression of her graceful nature that no shoulder brushes vaelenaβsΒ or a symptom of her reputation, it cannot be said.
the only strenuous effort she expends on her body in her crossing of the hall is exerted upon the corners of her lips, withholding her urge to sneer. the crowd is nothing better than a bearβs den, ear-splitting in their din and dampened by travel, left common and fetid. vyros, who holds his composure as well as her own regardless of the toll of journey, is the only one sheβll tolerate.
her sudden pause is a glint of moonlight in the room. a great dual-edged axe lays impacted into edge of an oak table, handle left aloft in the air as if to entreat passerby to take possession. hazardous for a weapon of so fine a make amid a congested room, perhaps, if it were not for a size so impractical it would render the common hand useless. the cant of her head while she traces the length, so delicate a movement as to hear the tinkling of porcelain with it: vaelena has, for a moment, been seized.
her birth is blood and secret. complaining of a nightβs ill rest, the ruling lady velaryon retires to her quarters in the uppermost tower of castle driftmark on a grey morning, dismissing her attendants while she rests. some hours later when she has not risen, her son vyros climbs the steps to retrieve his mother. what he finds is a pale, silent woman and a bloody, screaming babe: in her entrance into the world, vaelena has torn apart her mother.
her girlhood is marked by the same attributes. with over a decade between herself and her only brother, vyros is marked as a man by the time vaelena is old enough to retain any memory (therefore taken out to sea to prove his salt), and the ruling lord visyron holds little paternal interest. as such sheβs raised more by the tides and cold stone walls than any one man, left to wander castle driftmark alone as little more than a pale slip of a child. itβs only in vyrosβs returns to the isle that she experiences any tenderness or familial connection, walking the beach by his side to collect shells and chase gulls.
when she sprouts enough to take on a passing image of the late lady of the castle, her father finally takes interest. though his attention occasionally swings back to extreme apathy, largely he is locked into a possessive obsession, often forbidding his daughter from leaving the family halls or enclosure of beach nearby. sheβs hoarded as equal parts a treasure and a monstrosity, kept away from outside eyes.Β
the realms know little of the velaryon girl until suddenly they clamour to know it all. upon word of a visiting stormland noble declares her the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, rumour and interest froth and multiply -- a calculated bid for freedom from vaelena herself, having seduced the noblemen with such an intent. tall and slender with an eerie ethereality and the markings of a proper velaryon, an influx of curious wanderers make excuse to dock on driftmarkβs beaches, coming from a glimpse of the hidden pearl.
she becomes known as the white lady for her pale and distressing loveliness, declared routinely as the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms. as is often the case with beautiful and unusual women, rumour is not kind to her (though perhaps not necessarily untrue, either): gossip spreads that the lady velaryon practices dark arts, that her multitude of suitors come by their bone-twisting adoration by way of magick, that her beauty is preserved by blood. to vaelena, borne of no real magick but a womanβs will and a talent with herbs, the reputation an amusement. let them call me a witch. what is a witch but a woman that man cannot quiet?
the velaryon patriarch succumbs slowly to a long-waiting disease, rending him paranoid and erratic. he accuses solid allies of treason and makes scattered attempts at political violences, causing a period disquiet. then, suddenly -- it seems to end and return to deep, still waters. having grown tired of their aged, ruinous father, the velaryon children do what they must: they preserve the house by whatever means necessary. vaelena slips basilisk blood into his goblet within the same fortnight that vyros exacts violent revenge, rending him limp, muted and malleable - a state through which the siblings are able to puppeteer.Β there are rumours that one velaryon sibling or the other rule through their weak father, but they are just that - whispers.Β
misc.
incredibly inspired by shiera seastar, donβt @ me
the siblings have a dragon egg each, and they found them in a way similarly joined - as a boy, vyros dragged a waterlogged trunk up from the sea. unable to open it, it was left abandoned in the treasury. some decade later and after weeks of inner disquiet, vae dreams of the trunk and a silver key in her fatherβs drawer. itβs she who opens it, finding a pair of gleaming eggs; she takes the pearlescent egg for herself and leaves its darker twin swathed in velvet in her brotherβs chambers.
has a white borzoi dog thatβs surprisingly well behaved. always at vaeβs side and rarely makes any noise
might not have genuine magic but you best believe sheβs got a lil trunk of witchy potions with her at all times <3
doesnβt have any genuine interest in being the head of house, nor even a queen - vae finds the duties of rulership monotonous. sheβd much rather stand as her brotherβs advisor on driftmark and make mischief on her own time. sheβd rather have raw power than something strained into a specific title
if you couldnβt guess, incredibly committed to the The Aesthetic. all her gowns tend to be white, silver, or an icy blue, her jewelry cool diamonds or sea-borne pearls.
both she and vyros bare the same birthmark upon their right shoulder bladeΒ
due to the forced isolation in castle driftmark during her teen years, vaelena came to know every inch of the place by heart -- including its innermost workings. at fifteen she discovered hidden passages among the halls, one of which lead directly behind the room where her father held political congress. she spent years observing his meetings.
her ability to use hidden passages is duly why some of the visitors to driftmark believed her to be practiced in magicks - she certainly wasnβt above spying on guest rooms and using gleamed knowledge to come across like she had looked into their soul.
very deeply (and unusually) attached to her dragon egg. partially symptomatic of the isolation and neglect she endured as a young woman, any remaining tenderness or affection not taken by her brother was projected onto the egg. takes it with her if ever making a trip outside driftmark
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