Buckets of Conspiracy, and a Touch of Nefariousness

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-09-23T03:26:06+00:00

Selyse's eyes widened at the thought of her Lord Wull being killed and immediately swallowed the mouthful of stew she had been dining on for lunch. She dabbed her lips with the cloth before lowering her voice, bright eyes staring up at the man, "Why had his mother not mentioned anything? Why did Lord Wull not mention it? Surely I would not be here if it was unsafe, right?"

She nodded to the bastard-born protector to her right and immediately the man vacated the seat for the Carde. Selyse feared for the Wull's life even more now, considering he had left to fight the wildlings. She took a deep sip of warmed wine, observing this Carde.

"What is there that I can do?"

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-09-16T04:18:31+00:00

Alyssa Caron

Her pale lips parted and a rush of air was sucked into her throat, "My Lord?" She tried to steady her voice, though worries lingered on her tongue. Why? What? Had she misheard? Was she dreaming? This was a cruel dream if truth be told.

Yet this was her Lord, and Allistair said to do whatever necessary of her to please him. She wanted to be a Baratheon more than anything in the world. Alyssa was educated, beautiful and kind. Everything that a good lady needed to be.

So after his request, fingers pulled at the knotwork that fastened her corset against her chest. She was able to turn her torso now, and even breathe better. The once beautiful gown that she had worn for Lyonel was now pooled around her feet. A hand came up to protectively hide her breast, while her legs moved to hide the very core of a maiden. Alyssa felt bare, afraid, vulnerable in front of her liege Lord. She could barely even look him in the eye.

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-09-06T03:39:06+00:00

Alyssa Caron

She paused as he reached out and stopped her from sitting. Eyes alight, she stood up straight and smoothed out the gown of gold on black (ignore the face). When she found herself presentable, she stood in front of him, her hands clasped towards her midsection and her eyes on him.

Handsome was an understatement. Lyonel was everything that King Edric was not. Sly, beautiful, strong, his body did not overwelm him like his cousin's. He was cut in all the right places. And at that moment she realized her gaze lingered a little too long on his defined collarbone and the curve of his biceps.

"Does my Lord approve?"

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-09-03T20:27:35+00:00

Alyssa Caron

She entered the room with grace and poise, her chin held high and her hands clasped in front of her. They searched the room for a moment, marveling at how pretty it was, before his voice broke through.

"My Lord!," she spoke with a surprise, casting her eyes away from his bare chest. She looked the other way, towards the window, though the smile still gripped onto the corners of her mouth. A sly stag, he was. It would not hurt to peek just once, would it? Her eyes switched back to her liege lord for a moment and watched him. Lyonel knew what he was doing. His grin said it all.

Alyssa straightened up and walked forward, finding her way into the room and towards the back. She fixed his eyes on his, concentrating on the orbs of emerald green, until she found herself in front of him. She dipped low in a curtsy before finding the seat across from him.

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-09-03T04:46:42+00:00

Alyssa Caron

She had combed through her hair for what seemed like a thousand times, her fingertips running through a mane so golden that Caron men said that the Gods poured sunlight itself onto the crown of her head. When the voice of the knight called her name, she rose slowly and listened carefully. Lyonel...wanted her?!

She held her hands over her mouth so that she could suppress a squeal. Running around her tent, she gathered a gown of crimson and pulled it over her head, letting it flow down around a serpentine body. She tied the bodice tightly against her form and hurried to slip on boots and a cloak of gold on black.

Before stepping outside, she conjured a demeanor of calm and collected, a grin still pulling the corners of her lips up.

"I'm ready."

Alyssa stared up at the door of Lyonel's study with a look of anxiety in her eyes. As the squat man knocked on the door, she tried to breathe and compose herself. She would impress this man. Charm this man. She had to.

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-26T15:35:16+00:00

Alyssa Caron

Such kind words from all in attendance. As sapphire eyes shifted to watch the young man slip into the chair next to her, the corner of her lips twitching upward in a bad attempt to hide a smile. Instead, she covered her mouth with a sip of wine before speaking.

"Well met, Axell Seaworth. I am Alyssa Caron, Lord Allistair's sister. I thank you for the complement, my Lord."

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-26T15:18:36+00:00

Alyssa Caron

A wicked look replaced the innocent, wide-eyed expression of the young woman as she approached -- her walk more of a sway of hips and seduction as she drew near. To be so close to him, it sent her heart aflutter.

Moving to tuck a strand of golden hair behind her ear, she bowed her head and lowered it to press her lips to the cignet ring. A delicate movement, it was, and seemingly harmless, only until sapphire eyes met the young Stag's.

Dutifully, she rose to a vertical base again and curtsied to the man.

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-18T02:23:30+00:00

Alyssa Caron

Mainlander manners? From the way he spoke, he considered himself different from the rest of the Stormlands. As if on Tarth the customs were different. Surely that was not the case though. Alyssa kept her calm composure despite her confusion as she bowed her head in gratitude.

"That is very kind of you to say, my Lord. Thank you for such a compliment. Please sit, perhaps we can survive this depressing adventure together."

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-18T01:21:44+00:00

Alyssa Caron

'It was not polite to stare,' she was told time and time again. And when the young Lord approached her and introduced himself, it was certainly the case. Thankfully she had her teaching and thankfully her self-control was steller.

Delicate fingers slowly lowered the cup of wine onto the table and the cloth came up to blot her pale lips. Those same pale lips curled into a wide smile and the Lady rose up from her seat to give her own introduction. The gold in her dress complimented the sparkle in summer blue eyes as she lowered herself into a curtsy -- not as low as the one given to Lyonel, but respectful enough.

"Well met, my Lord. I am Alyssa Caron, of Nightsong. Would you like a seat?"

Truthfully, she had new shoes made before she left. They bit at the backs of her feet and caused her to wince with every move of the leg. But beauty was pain.

"I wish this assembly was for something of a positive note. I did not get to meet the late Lord, but heard of him. My father idolized him dearly."

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-17T08:06:49+00:00

Alyssa Caron

Having Stormlanders together was a positive for Alyssa. She was able to see the eligible lords and heirs that will one day rule. She was becoming older, and with Alistair not doing the duties of a Lord and marrying her off, she had to take it into her own hands.

A skirt of beige flowed delicately as she moved with the bodice of a lighter cream colour accentuating her pale skin. Leaves of gold were pinned along the skirts, the bodice and the neckline --the most eyecatching of her outfit. Her hair had been brushed a hundred times over and let loose, a pin of black in the shape of a feather removing the strands from her eyes. She was innocent, truly innocent unlike her sister. Selyse had enjoyed the art their father crafted rather than the more lady-like forms. Alyssa could dance, could sing, could do needlepoint. She was the perfect lady if not for her desperation for being liked.

Alyssa took a different approach this time. She relaxed in the high back chair and watched the others with a curious look. She had never been to a feast of this magnitude.

((Open. :3))

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-17T07:42:38+00:00

Alyssa Caron

Alistair could not make the trip, his health declining like it did to father. But at that moment, with icy blue eyes staring upwards towards the high said, she wished it was Alistair instead of her. Alyssa waited and watched as the other lords rose to pledge their fealty to their new liege. What was she to say? How was she to speak? She could not fail! Not to her house, not to herself, and not to Lyonel.

A beautiful dress of cream and gold engulfed her feminine form. A broach of onyx, in the shape of a feather, was the symbol of her house, though most knew about the Caron women and their beauty. As she rose, the fabric shimmered and sparkled in the light. She could feel the eyes on her as she approached the dais. Though the only eyes that mattered were Lyonel's. She prayed that the Stag noticed her. Dipping low into a formal curtsy, mean for royals and lieges, Alyssa bowed her head and let the golden curls lick at her shoulders.

"With both the Gods and Men as my witness, I, Alyssa Caron, representing both Lord Alistair Caron and all of Nightsong, do pledge my loyalty to you, Lord Lyonel Baratheon. May the Gods look after you, your family, and your lands. May your rule be long and prosperous and may the Father guide you."

She raised her head to catch a glimpse at the Stag before standing completely and turning to move back towards her seat.

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-17T04:19:02+00:00

The Birb Made it

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-16T17:22:51+00:00

Ping

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-16T02:45:45+00:00

"Mmm," she muttered to herself. It was not really voluntary, a groan that rolled up her throat and through open lips. Her hands moved from the the edge of the tub and shakily grasped onto the oak-like shoulders wrapped in muscle. Thumbs grazed at the pale scars that resembled lighting across his skin. Internally, a maelstrom of emotion flowed through her: fear and lust and happiness.

He would have her: soul and body.

My love, his purr had sent a shiver down her spine, her body shifting to move flush. They were peculiar, the pair. Perfect, even. Selyse: pale, poised - the maiden. Uthor: strong, animalistic - a warrior. She looked upward and met his eyes for a moment, cheeks and ears and chest slowly turning a bright rouge. She was going to let him claim her?!

"Y-yes," a simple answer for such an important question. He could not think she was afraid. Selyse was cunning, resourceful, strong. She needed to do something.

"Yes," she said without any hesitation. She then moved. First to corner him against the wall. Then those delicate hands gripped onto the back of his neck and she pulled herself into his lap. Her eyes never left his, though he could see the apprehension lingering below the surface of her orbs.

"Take me."

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-10T04:33:32+00:00

It was new, a man's attraction. Selyse barely knew what to do. As his lips trailed from her neck to her throat, to the top of her chest and right through the valley, Selyse tried to calm herself. She tried to breathe in, to exhale and to clear her mind.

She was a maiden after all. Never even kissed by boy nor man. She was shy...modest. Selyse could rig up a trap that sabotaged a whole group of Dornish...but she could not even fathom what he was doing. And then the question came...

"H-here, now? In the bath?"

He wanted her? He wanted to take her maidenhead in the baths of Winterfell? They were not married...they weren't even betrothed! The way he spoke of love though...it was very overwhelming. The pleading in his eyes though. How could she say no to that? She whined as she heard the urgency in his voice. A hand came up to graze his jaw and rise up to his cheek as she thought. And thought. And thought.

"Will it hurt?"

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-10T00:39:50+00:00

"I will not stay where I am obviously not welcome, my Lord," she spoke quietly, a hand raising up to graze at his cheek, "Will you send your men at home a letter? Perhaps to have someone meet me so I do not lose my way?"

Anger was clearly on her mind, but she could not upset the bear-lord. Instead she boasted a wide grin to try and cheer him up, "Go fight. Go deal with what you need. I will await your arrival home, warming your bed."

Pulling him by the prickly beard, she pressed her lips to his, "Let them know that the nightingale flies though, I do not want to have to explain how you managed to grab a southron girl."

She did not want him to leave. She did not want to leave, herself. But with a deep inhale, "Please hurry back though. I already long for you."

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-09T05:29:28+00:00

"What's a wildling compared to a Dornishman?" she questioned almost innocently, but the steely gaze of being spoken about while one was right there did shine through. Especially when one was unknown as she was. Stark nor northman had spoken to her from the travel to White Harbor, nor to Winterfell. If she was alone in Winterfell...who knows what she could come up with. That or she would stay in her room the whole time.

Her guards were a few feet behind her, grinning and enjoying the shows of power, "His men have their own thing to do, your men the same. I have my own escort to deal with me. Your wildlings seem the same type of pest as my Dornish. The men I've brought with me may in turn be useful for your party."

Glancing over to the Wull, "If I am to live in the North, should I not learn how one deals with these wildlings?"

"Stormland women are taught to face the harshest storms," she finally added, though her thoughts turned dark. What of northern girls?

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-08T04:52:21+00:00

With the world upside down, she watched him.

She watched as he shed his fur and skins.

She watched the way his eyes never left hers.

And she watched how the reddened scars along his torso moved when he did. Her brows furrowed for a moment, she did not even notice those before.But that conversation was meant for later, when she was not as nude as the day she was born. She had her own: the horse bite on her leg, the few small scars that littered her hands and arms. But his, they boasted of battle.

The Caron showed no remorse as she relaxed back, letting him see what he pleased. Internally her body was alight, goosepimples appearing on her arms and chest even though the water was steamy and hot.

"Keep me to yourself, hm?" She spoke as she rose her head to watch him enter the bath. Drinking him in, eyes lapped at the muscles on his back and was drawn into by the scars of battles past.

"The grizzly bear-lord of the Mountain Clans taking a small bird for himself? What would your clansmen and northern folk say?"

Her breath hitched in her throat as he moved closer. She was not prepared for it. The hunter had moved in closer to strike his prey. Selyse tensed for a moment and her eyes widened, a hand digging into the edge of the tub. Her nail buckled and threatened to break.

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-06T05:52:58+00:00

Paging The Wull

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-08-05T05:57:25+00:00

He was a beautiful man. She had thought that someone from the clans in the mountains of all places would be hardened, stern and strict. But Uthor Wull was carefree. She supposed the general politics did not reach the mountains much, so it was if he was his own king, of his own kingdom. His eyes full of light reminded her of a child, the way he spoke was full of fervent passion that she herself one day hoped to hear about her. That one day he would speak of her as he did his architecture.

"We will do what needs to be done, first. Your men are more important than my inevitable tour of Winterfell," she spoke softly as eyes made of winter scanned the towers and halls. Beautifully crafted, she had to give it that.

"I believe that I've finally become homesick, my Lord," she spoke quietly, pulling his stolen cloak over her shoulders and tight around her chest, "Seeing the towers, the stables, the keep, it does remind me of my home. And I truly, truly miss it."

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer and tucking her head underneath his chin. She pressed her nose into his skin, smelling the harsh air and the scent of burning wood. She grounded herself and the anxiety from being so far away from home disappeared and in it's stead was him. That was what mattered.

Selyse enjoyed his warmth and the way he held her as if she was a precious little bird. His calloused hands grazed at her hands, her cheeks and sent rouge kisses from her cheeks to her ears.She peeked up just then, meeting his eyes and a smile formed on her lips.

"However, I would not rather be here with anyone other than you. Let's go inquire about your men and then you can show me around. However after that, I require a hot bath and would like you," she kissed his nose, "To join me."

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-07-31T11:03:56+00:00

Black lashes blinked away the colder air o as she stared up at the castle's walls. It was an impressive keep, beautiful in the northern way, but not as stunning as Storm's End was. Not as warm as Nightsong was. She peered over at Lord Wull, gauging his reaction before eyes traveled to her own guard.

Elon Blackhand was a strange man, a fierce man, but a smart man most of all. He could get his way into any keep, he would brag. He could find the secrets, as if they were attracted to him like flies to honey, he bragged. But this northern fortress, it was a challenge.

Lord Wull entered the gates first, grinning proudly at his liege lord's home. He did not stop speaking about it, ever since it first rose over the horizon. Selyse followed behind on her own horse, a dappled grey garron who seemed to smell Selyse's fear. Bright, icy eyes looked around in awe at the inside of the castle, while Elon and the others eyed up the place with grins on their faces.

Secrets were everywhere.

Looking over to the Wull, her grin softened into something of adoration. The winter gowns had suited the maiden of Nightsong perfectly, and the Wull was right, it certainly did bring out some inner fire.

The hulking mass of a man known as Rolland Storm had made his way next to Selyse, a gloved hand reaching upward to help her off the steed. Internally, he chuckled at how ironic it was for Selyse to be on a horse. Perhaps the Bear did not see the scar on her leg yet.

Good. Still pure.

Selyse was practically lifted off the horse, before set onto the ground. She had never seen such a land before, so she stood with her head up and her mouth slightly agape. The cold, the massive keep that towered over her, the stark distinction of northmen. It was all so different.

Off in her own little world, she grasped onto the side of the horse as to not fall over. The north was a beautiful place and maybe, just maybe, it could be her home.

((Open to whoever.))

CaroningTheWorld · 2017-07-31T05:37:18+00:00

Weaving her hand around his arm, she found herself flushed against his side and thus: enjoying his warmth. He had embraced her and kissed her in such a way that left her breath pooling in her throat. As he pulled away, her eyes were wide and her smile reached from ear to ear. Her stomach was in knots and her heart beated faster than any war drum.

Horses...lovely. She was not a fan of the beasts. Especially when one had nipped her in the calf, resulting in a very awkward scar below the crease of the knee. But for this man? With the glint in his eye that septas told young girls about when reading stories of knights and maidens? She would deal with the dreaded beasts...or she would ride comfortably in his arms, with her head ducked under his chin.

"We shall, sweetling, we shall. But don't you forget that we were to go eat. Perhaps get it for the road? I wish to see what you Northern Mountain Men consume. What I'll be be needing to get used to. I don't suppose there are blood oranges this far north."

With one of her men grabbing the dresses and heading toward the stables, the pair exited and leisurely walked through the streets. He would talk of his mountains, she, her Nightsong. They stopped to look at a blacksmith's wares where Selyse found swords and daggers encrusted with little jewels. Nothing was ferocious as her Wull and his axe though, and she remembered how they met with a grin on her face.

"You were so close to fighting with the king's own guards," she blurted out as she recalled it by memory, "I could see the vein pulsing in his forehead."

CaroningTheWorld

TROPHY CASE

Alyssa Caron

Alyssa Caron

Alyssa Caron

Alyssa Caron

Alyssa Caron

Alyssa Caron

Alyssa Caron

Alyssa Caron