castle of glass

BRANDON STARK. ruling lord of winterfell, warden of the north.

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♘

         MEMORY MEME,    CLOSED.

♘ : a memory of their siblings

               the ruffle of the dry leaves is loud with each of their steps as they go to the godswood, its beautiful red crown being easily seem from any part they were. there are giggles, childish and loud as the youngers run faster in front of the woman who call out for them to watch their step, not capable to run after them herself being late in her pregnancy.

the younger twin is, then, the one who runs after then instead, laughing and having his own fun as the young little boy and girl ran from him. they arrive first, eyes looking up at the leaves shaking with the strong wind — they do not feel cold, however, used with it, born into it.

the mother then arrives, slowly sitting by the godswood with the middle child being quick to sit by her and rest his head on her bosom, the most attached to her. the older twin is the one that takes the free spot on her other side, enlacing her arm to the woman’s as she always did. once finding the others at quiet and peace, the youngest boy, soon to lose his spot, crawls to get close enough of the woman as well, while the older boy picks the girl up and follows, sitting close to his brother and resting by the mother’s knees.

a beautiful scene that was, all of the stark children together in such a peaceful moment that was their visits to the sacred place — including the child who moved on their mom’s belly. she had taught them well, to behave in that certain spot. the twin boy feels when his small sister rests her head on his chest and he rests his cheek against the top of her head as they heard the mother humming an old melody, obviously focused both on her many children and her own prayers in her head.

they enjoyed that moment as they should, as if it would be the last time all of them would be together under those majestic red leaves as six children and their mother. barely they knew that was the last chance they would have to see their mother’s smile towards all and each of them, and the last time they would see a future in which another of them could be born instead of lost.

@shewolflyannas @nedwynstark

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               anxiety is a feeling he has been familiar with before, the fear of the unknown, the worries of things that are yet to happen and are not clear enough. ever since the news had arrived, brandon keeps feeling an insistent pulse on his temples, a headache that are not easily relieved and that took his sleep at night. it had been quite a while since the last time he wandered through the dark, unbothered to even hold a candle to guide his way — but he does so this time, feeling his skin sweaty over the overbearing heat until he finds an opened window. with his both hands resting on the edge of the frame, he leans his torso forward, looking out of the building and staring in the direction where he knows the northmen camp is.

it feels like a stupid decision to have them coming with them now, and feels even more stupid to even consider to call more of them down to the south when a threat is up their necks. logic and common sense tells him he would have to send word to those who stayed to let them informed of what seems fated to happen in king’s landing, and another to those who are already there, for them to take care and prepare.

a loud sigh drops his lips as his head falls down and he stares at his hands, trying to distract himself with the white knuckles at the force he puts in holding the window frame. many thoughts keep crossing his mind — his daughter and his twin sister, who stayed up in winterfell to take care of their fortress, their home, trying to be calm and sure that they are the safest at that moment, while he and the others are right in the crossfire.

closing his eyes and cursing lowly, he shakes his head in disbelief — he knew something bad would happen out of this, for he was not dumb to ever doubt how this sort of celebration, reuniting all of the nobles of westeros, was the easiest way to attack all of them at once. his thoughts only stops at the steps behind him, to whom he slowly lifts his head and look over his shoulder. “who is there?” he wonders out loud, eyes squinting in the darkness to recognize the frame he sees.

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mellificare‌:  

      she pretends not to hear him, not to know there would be a comeback for every tease throw his direction – as there always was. instead, she rolls her eyes and pulls edmure closer, watching as he easily is tug around and how he rests his cheek upon her bosom, as if he was still a babe and not a nearly grown boy with seven namedays under his belt. his coming to her nap gives a place that is soon occupied by lord stark during the short moment of silence and calm that takes the room.

she watches as her husband takes his round around their many children, and when he comes closer to her – there is a smile that is ever present in her eyes whenever she looks at him then, but her hues quickly lower to their second to last child in his own arms, serene, already drifting into dreamland. perhaps at this time of the night in winterfell she would be already asleep within baranduin’s furr, the direwolf trotting down with care as she leads the stark girl in the nursery – melissa wonders if the same would be happening to her oldest, in the north, right now, or if she had taken in her mother’s duties and habits and decided to spend hours past her bedtime awake.

her eyes only flutter up from sarra’s head when she hears the father speak, and it takes a lot of effort for melissa not to break into a laughter again – it is only the acknowledgement of the children next to them that makes her bite her bottom lip to hold it back, but once it dies, she still gives him a smile. “do you ever wonder how can we coincide even after a decade, brandon?” the mother questions, brows raising along with her free hand; the latter falls on his forehead, trailing the outline of the faint scar gently, as adoring as ever. lena had his eyes, thank the gods, and not the “frog-eater” eyes her mother had left herself – whenever she looked at her child she thought of the father, and whenever she looked at the father she thought of her children, as if they were still linked.

it is an amused and accomplished smirk that takes his lips, watching as the woman has to hold back and swallow her laugher not to startle their children. ever so patient, he waits, the curl on his lips turning more sincere than teasing as she smiles at him. keeping the sleeping girl comfortable, he carefully removes one of his arms from her to move it around his wife’s shoulder, resting on the back of their seat as his hand move beside her neck, knuckles brushing against her flesh, tracing caring lines from behind her ear, down the curve of her shoulder and up again.

“isn’t it supposed to get better with the time? the way we coincide?” he wonders, eyes staring down at hers. while she thought of her eyes as ones that reminded her own mother, brandon always found them dazzling, distracting — from the way she looks at him to the color of her eyes, even when the hues became thinner the more they stared at each other. “i don’t think we will ever lose that,” daring to chuckle lightly, he feels sarra moving on his arm, her head moving from his shoulder to rest against his chest instead, little hands holding onto the fabric of his shirt. he watches her for a while before lifting his eyes at the other children, still awake, by the table. bethany is already yawning too, leaning against her brother’s side — all of them too used with a different schedule, with sleeping early. rickard, however, still keeps his eyes on the letter.

his caresses on his wife’s continues then, once his eyes lay on her again, with that smile of his as he moves his caresses to her hair, pulling a loose lock behind her ear before he starts poking at the pins that held her hair up, not yet daring to pull at them, though. “we should put them to sleep,” he whispers, moving just slightly closer to get closer to her ear. “rickard is so focused he didn’t notice betha is sleeping against his arm,” he laughs softly, gesturing to their children, one asleep, another still writing by the candlelights with heavy eyelids.

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rhcena‌:  

“Lord Stark,” she greeted with a gracious smile. She chuckled lightly at his words. He looked like himself too, his hair perhaps even longer than she recalled. “Young, yes, but not quite as young as before.” Much had changed since she last saw him in King’s Landing, now she was wife and mother, her father long gone, so she also bore the title of queen. It felt like a lifetime ago since she was a princess, since she still had the freedom to dream about what her future might hold. Although Rhaena had always known love would not determine who she married, she had still hoped that she would have some choice, that she might fall for one of the lords and then see her happiness secured in a marriage benefitting all. Arryk had not been her choice, and she knew well the Lannister-Targaryen was not looked kindly upon in the North. There had been countless protests, but no threats, not yet.

Rhaena knew there was work to be done with the alliance between the Starks and the throne. She respected whatever worries they had, she could easily understand them, after all. Her father’s decision to put Arryk on the throne instead of her, it haunted her too, though, for different reasons other than distrust and suspicion, her reasons were far more personal.  "We are very pleased you travelled all this way with your family to celebrate the prince’s birth, Lord Stark, I know it’s a long and, at times, uncomfortable journey,“ she acknowledged. She had been pleasantly surprised when Lord and Lady Stark had accepted the invitation, she would not have blamed them for staying in Winterfell considering their thoughts about her marriage, and also considering their own young children. ”How are your wife and children? I hope the journey was not too tedious and strenuous for them.“

the smile that opens on his lips is as sincere as the lord usually was — blunt as he may be, brandon has never hidden his political opinions from the woman. not before she married, and much less after, when the north’s opinion ( when a lion took over as their ruler instead of a dragon ) was a displeased one. his side has always been obvious, but it’s his charisma that granted him most protection. the loyalty from the families that lived under his watchful eyes had always been overwhelming ( in a good way ), as most shared their worries with him — and, honest as he is, he did not deny once to his people that he understood more than they would imagine, how uncomfortable the current situation made him too.

the fact that his part of the seven kingdoms is one of the most obvious ones on the opposition to the royal wedding made this visit real. the old gods, and maybe even the new ones, knew how this would look from outside, had he not attended.

“still young,” he reassures her with a warm smile, pulling his hands to his back, fingers around one of his wrists as he watches her. “becoming a wife, a mother and, most importantly, a queen, does not turn someone that much older,” it is not just a compliment, of course. he knew the history, he knew partially how things played against her when assuming the title and, yet, if there was one of the heads of the kingdoms that he would allow himself to be more caring and respectful, that would be the woman before him.

at her own words, he nods slowly, appreciating the recognition — he did not need it, but to receive it either way makes him feel better. “a long ride that was, but i must say children are hardly tired when they see something new. the older ones barely rested during the journey unless exhaustion took the best of them. as for babe lyarra and my lady wife, they’ve been the ones we watched over the most. the girl is just a few moons older than the prince, i must say,” brandon doesn’t help in recognizing the fact.

travel with a young babe was a challenge, especially when the other children were not much older and were proving to be interested on watching the road and, sometimes, almost daring to get lost — rickard would fall on this category, as the one attempting to go back to the north at every stop. but the decision to come as a whole had been proved to be for the best, as leaving his wife behind was out of question. “my oldest, lady lena, stayed in winterfell, but she sent the regards to the young prince and her wishes to be here,” and that he is more than sure, as leaving his first born to be the stark in winterfell took a toll on him and melissa, just as it probably did to the young girl as well. “how have you been recovering this far, your grace? i’ve heard it’s been a rather quick recovery…”

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OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

APHRODITE.  laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO.  glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a tinder account.

ARES.  armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS.  keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA.  discerning gaze, unreadable face, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes.

DEMETER.  soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS.  drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS.  the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles.

HERA.  resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold.

HERMES.  devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON.  storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow.

ZEUS.  thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, expensive watch.

[archivesdiveronaevents]

Shakespearean Character Ask Meme

ANTONY: What bad habits do you need to break? BEATRICE: What is the achievement you’re most proud of? BENVOLIO: What comes to mind when you think of peace? BIANCA: What do you want most in life? CELIA: Do you want to fall in love? CIRCE: Would you rather be loved or feared? CLAUDIUS: What is the worst thing you’ve ever done? CORDELIA: Do you consider yourself a good person? CRESSIDA: What makes you feel trapped? DESDEMONA: Do you believe that the truth will set you free? EDGAR: Do you want to make your family proud? EDMUND: Do you ever wish you’d been born someone else? If so, who? GERTRUDE: Would you (or have you) ever cheated on a significant other? HAMLET: Do you prefer to think things through thoroughly or act on impulse? HECATE: Do you consider yourself an introvert or an extrovert? HELENUS: Do you believe in God? HIPPOLYTA: What is your biggest regret? HORATIO: Who do you love most? JULIET: What is your favorite luxury? LADY MACBETH: What is your favorite thing about yourself? MACBETH: Have you ever killed anyone? Would you? MALCOLM: What does honor mean to you? MEDEA: Do you have any quirks? MERCUTIO: Is there anyone you would die for? MIRANDA: Is happiness a choice? OBERON: Does reputation matter to you? OPHELIA: Is there anything you regret not doing? ORSINO: If you could have any material thing in the world, what would it be? PARIS: If you had the chance to rule the world, would you? PORTIA: When did you lose your innocence? PUCK: Do you consider yourself a mischievous person?  ROMEO: How far would you go for love? ROSALIND: What does your ideal day entail? ROSALINE: Which people from your past haunt you? SEBASTIAN: Is violence ever the answer? TITANIA: Do you believe in magic? TYBALT: If you could kill one person without consequences, who would it be? VIOLA: How skilled of a liar are you? VOLUMNIA: Describe the biggest sacrifice you’ve made.

[jamiedornaniseverything]

Claire x Jamie ► 1.08

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ft. @mellificare

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( ♛ truth serum ) : wed, bed, behead: evelyne, reina, rhaena?

               had he been younger when questioned this sort of thing, this would be an embarrassing moment in which he would be choking with his drink at such random options. there aren’t bad, and yet, he finds some muse to laugh as his eyes roll. “fine choices you have there,” brandon comments, pondering for a while — as if there was too much to think so. “but neither quite what i would go for. except, maybe, evelyne… to have the head off, that is. a beauty, but not the sort to be bedded or wedded, if i must say.” knowing too much of lady greyjoy has made him too aware of how the most beautiful and likeable are the most dangerous snakes. “marrying rhaena would be interesting, not only for the title that comes with her — the first time i met her, she was an amazing person, definitely a worthed princess. so that leaves reina to be bedded… she is quite young, isn’t she? i am not a juvenile no more, so not quite fond just to the looks, especially the too young appearance and behavior, so definitely perhaps just nice for fun.”

@evclyne, @rhcena, @reina-baratheon

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( ♛ truth serum ) why haven’t you married off your younger sister yet?

               perhaps it is a weird decision seen by the eyes of others. many were the times he had this conversation with his wife while making decisions, and his answer was always the same: that the suggested men were not good enough. while lyanna can think brandon can not wait to marry her off and has been making preparations for this since she became a woman, the lord of winterfell is far from wanting to deal with it. “i did not see a reason to do so yet,” he answers simply. marriages were alliances, as he well knows, and to have more of those thanks to her sister would be both enjoyable and useful — but at what cost? “i want to allow her the chance of meeting someone she likes. who knows, she may be lucky to like the man before marrying him,” he shrugs. “i do not discard having to be the one to pair her up at some point, if needed, like father did to serena. but i do not wish to do that unless really necessary. and i would like to actually talk to her before taking decisions on her name as well.”

@shewolflyannas

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( ♛ truth serum ) | What's your favorite place you've been, besides Winterfell?

               “i am particularly fond of any place in the north,” it’s easy to admit it, when it is where he rules, and its scenary is the most pleasant to his eyes and the weather to his body. however, it would be a lie if he ever said he had not liked any other part of westeros. “the next place i’ve been a lot is the riverlands. i’ve visited the twins and raventree hall and those are places i wish to go again,” a long time he had spent around those areas after marrying melissa, wanting to know more of her own heritage and to visit her family while neither of them had as many duties, when things were much easier and lena and rickard were the only children they had to watch over.

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( ♛ truth serum ) : your life seems pretty perfect. what do you think is missing?

               on brandon’s perspective, his life is good, his married life is where he had wished it to be — but in general, in the big picture and collecting more of his family members, it is far from perfect. many twists happened ever since serena married away and he assumed the north and winterfell. a lot of responsibilities fell on him and fell hard — from serena avoiding him to having to give edwyn a chance in the south, it was his mission to take care of the rest of his siblings, and, with that, he feels he failed deeply in the first moons. “benjen being alive.” he murmurs, scratching behind his ear. “serena not judging me and, instead, helping me to pick up the pieces of this family to keep going. a happier lyanna…” his lists would go on, but he then pauses for a bit. “perhaps the only one i did right so far is ned… but i haven’t heard enough of him to be sure of that and can only hope.”

@serenaumber, @shewolflyannas, @nedwynstark

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( ♛ truth serum ) : Have you ever wished to marry someone else besides your wife?

               “i have never wished to marry, period.” he starts with an amused laugh and a light shook of his head. through most of his younger years, brandon had always been the wild kind of boy — he preferred to be riding around the woods and travelling around the north. through those, he had met many girls who he fancied the looks — but easily bored he felt. “i did enjoy myself in brothels and stole a kiss or a few from noble ladies as a teen… but nothing that sparkled a wish to marry them,” he explains with a shrug. “until melissa, that is…” an embarrassed laugh escapes his lips. oh, if people only knew he married her for lust, such a wild move, simply because he wanted to bed her — how hard to get she played him, leaving him thirsty enough to travel to riverlands and ask her father for her hand himself. “so the answer is no, i suppose.”

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( ♛ truth serum ): if you had not married your wife then who would you have chosen to be your wife?

               his lips part once and soon close as he lacks of an answer to that. “had i not chosen my wife, i believe my father would’ve done it for me,” he comments, honestly. the late lord stark had not played against his son’s choice, but a southern was far from being in his plans, for sure. “i didn’t really give him a chance to show me suitors, as i married younger than he expected me to. but i believe it would be to a nothern woman — a hornwood, or a mormont, or a manderly… who knows what he had planned…” he shrugs. “but i would likely just accept the deal for the political reasons and go with it, as part of my duty.”

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( ♛ truth serum ) : which of your children is your favorite?

              a lie of “having no favorites” would easily slip out of his lips, had he not to be fully honest when hearing the question. although he loves all his children almost equally, it is quite easy to even see how the favoritism plays its part on the stark family. “lena,” he admits, shrugging lightly. his dear first born, who he misses and cherishes, who he had so many plans for — and none of them involved a man, but her being powerful of her own. “she was the first fruit of my marriage, her birth wasn’t easy, and her existence is the proof i once needed to believe i was in a good marriage, that i had chose my wife well. she proved i’m capable of falling in love, not only with her mother, but with her, with being her father. i dare to say she is the reason i know how to be a parent.”

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( ♛ truth serum ) : top three women in the realm

               a loud snort comes out of his lips, knowing how unfair his answer might be. “i will suppose this to be a top three women i admire,” he comments, not lacking of amusement at that. “my lady wife is quite a woman, isn’t she? and so is my sister,” as usual, he mentions his wife and twin sister with a level of importancy, even not being in good terms with the latter. “and, of course, the queen. it would be wrong not to admire the woman who actually deserves the throne, wouldn’t it?”

@mellificare, @serenaumber, @rhcena

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( ♛ truth serum ) why did you let your brother die?

               a cold shiver runs up his spine at such a question — one that he hated, despised and, yet, haunted him through longer than he would allow anyone ( but his wife ) to know. “i did not let him die,” he starts, each word coming out slowly. “benjen’s death was my mistake, my fault. it could’ve be avoided, but i had no knowledge of his whereabouts until it was too late,” with a voice as cold as the lands he guards, the lord continues, incapable of not keeping a deep frown on his face, between his brows. he had always been one to suggest and estimulate both lyanna and benjen’s passions, especially the ones of being wild, to ride around the woods surrounding the castle. many times after the happening he had supposed he should’ve been harder on them, not allow them to do as they wish, not to be like he once was. they were too young. “it was an unfortunate accident.”

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mellificare:   

        expectation is crystal clear in her moss hues as she stares at her husband – the years have made her trust him, especially when it came to their children, but she also knew brandon, and while she did adore all that made him him, she also knew how inconveniently childish he could be. it is with relief she hears him, a smile barely being hidden – although she attempts to, as always – by lowering her face as he continues to speak. what she can not hide or suppress, though, is the loud chortle that escapes her lips when he boasts. “make sure to add your father’s ego has not been injured on the road, though his back might have been.” the female is not completely humorless, especially when it comes to poke at her husband like this.

the children enjoy it, to see their mother join them in a short banter – rare as it was, they knew well they should take it as long as it lasts. once it settles, she sighs, running her fingers calmer through edmure’s locks, unable not to think how he should get his hair cropped, and, simultaneously, what she would add to her own letter to lena. humming, the mother taps her heel of her foot on the ground, both for rocking the child whose head rested on her lap, and simply as an annoying tic as she wandered off in her own thoughts. 

“we should send her something, husband. maybe a dragon doll, i have seen a child on the keep with one of those, so i assume it is a popular one these days.” she pauses, not longer than a couple of seconds before the blabbering restarts. “shall we keep it all in one parcel, or send multiple ravens with our letters? will there be letters? i am not entirely sure the maester will understand edmure’s handwriting since he refuses to abide by our schedule.” an extensive one – exhausting for all but their overachieving mother – in which the starklings spent hours and hours, as long as there was daylight, practicing their courtesies, their letters, their arms.

years had passed since they married, since they had their first child and, as an older brother to his own siblings, he had thought himself ready to have his own batch of children. and he wasn’t completely wrong, as his parenting has been one that both educate and amuse their children; scolding when needed, always laughing along with them even when he is the one the joke’s about. like now, seeing them giggling at the way his wife makes sure to put him on his place.

sending a stare at her, brandon raises his eyebrow slightly. there is something itching on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it — not in front of the kids, he remembers. “excuse me, my lady, but you should be proud of your dear husband for having such confidence, should you not?” he pokes at her just as much, giving a little more to the kids to laugh about — there weren’t many times they manage to see the parents playfully bickering like this, having their own schedules to attend.

with more words of support to rickard and picking sarra from the floor on his way, the lord stands up to take a quick look on his son’s letter, smiling softly at how the boy mentions several times how his sister is the luckiest to be in winterfell. moving to where his wife seats, brandon sits down beside her, allowing the yawning girl on his arms to hide her face into his neck, obviously tired. with the baby already sleeping, bethany sitting by the table with rickard and the other two kids with them, he allows himself to relax a little.

“we should…” he agrees quietly, thinking for a while. he had been wanting to get lena something else, too, but to be taken with them when they are back — a bow, a sword or something of that sort… but that was a conversation for another time, he supposes. “i wonder how she is doing,” the murmur comes before he can stop himself, unconsciously caressing his daughter’s back, hearing her breath deep as she falls asleep already — he remembers when lena was this age, how she would invade their room and crawl up their bed to sleep between them or tell a bad dream. a small, quiet laugh coming from his own lips interrupt the memory lane, however, at the comment from melissa. “he really needs to work on that.” he shakes his head, looking at the boy on his wife’s lap, eyes heavy with the way the woman caresses his hair, barely paying attention they talk about him. “but yes for multiple ravens. imagine her face seeing them coming,” he smiles at the idea, lifting his face to his lady. “well, there will be rickard’s, ours, a dragon doll, the girls can draw something to her and edmure can try something… the maester may not be able to understand what he writes, but lena might know better than all of us, don’t you think?”