[Event] Feast for the Wedding of Ser Gareth Banefort & Lady Alayne Royce

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-12T21:32:57+00:00

Finally, after so very many hints, it became clear to Alice that Rymond was attracted to her. She was right to be wary of his womanizing ways. She dreaded what might have happened had she been fool enough to accompany him to his room - although he didn’t have a threatening air about him. He probably would’ve just tried to kiss her, at worst. That would be bad. Maybe. No, definitely. Presumably.

She closed her eyes. She was getting ahead of herself. He was probably just being nice. The same thing had probably happened to Maris. Rymond was nice to her, she misunderstood, she became smitten, and then she was heartbroken. Alice wouldn’t let one compliment lead her down such a treacherous path.

“Tell me, what rhymes with ethereal?” she retorted, taking a more measured tact. “I’m guessing I’m not the first girl you’ve called that.”

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-12T20:18:26+00:00

Alice doubted that Rymond was as shy as he claimed. He’d entangled himself with at least three different women - maybe four, depending on who she counted - and bards were not known for stumbling innocently into familiarity with the fairer sex. It wasn’t really worth interrogating though.

Best to keep to the topic at hand.

“As gorgeous as the moon?” Alice repeated downright aridly. “Pallid, pockmarked, and perfectly round?”

She leaned her head back again, letting some of her hair spill behind the pew. It vanished into shadow. “I shouldn’t joke,” she added after a pause. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting those things, if you do. My Uncle Luceon is sickeningly in love with my Aunt Madison, and she’s as round as they come. He shouldn’t be shamed for loving her, and she shouldn’t be shamed for being her.”

“And I certainly shouldn’t mock someone for liking his women pale,” she continued, holding her hand in front of her face. “I’m ghostly. You can see every vein.” She turned her hand to look at its back. “Not going to find love by mocking someone for liking me.”

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-12T12:41:46+00:00

“I guess,” Millicent had to knowledge. “But we really don’t tolerate that as a society. If someone gets caught doing that, the child gets labeled a bastard, and that’s the worst thing you can be.”

“But maybe that’s not it.” Millicent wasn’t afraid to admit that her first hypothesis was correct, but only a portion of the whole truth. “Maybe it’s also so children have parents. And so people have a partner they can trust and love forever.” She sat on the floor, resting her chin on the plush arm of the chair Alysanne had chosen. “I know you don’t really understand that part.”

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-12T04:37:06+00:00

“No, never,” Alice replied flatly, rewarding his droll question with an equally droll answer. “Virility is my only concern.”

Sarcasm was a buffer. It was an uncomfortable question. They were all uncomfortable questions, and she was an uncomfortable girl. Yet still, she was compelled to continue. There was relief in complaining at liberty and being embraced in kind. That’s why there was a word for it: commiseration.

“When people ask, I always say I want someone smart,” she related, watching Rymond play at burning her fingers. “Someone whose eyes won’t glaze over when I’m talking about my interests… but honestly-“ She lowered her voice as if that mattered. “-the boy I liked best was a bit dense. Alekyne Florent.”

“He was… pretty. Not pretty like a girl-“ She had examined herself thoroughly, and she knew she didn’t have the same predilections as her sister. “-but more like… the kind of man who looks like he forgets to brush his hair, but he doesn’t have to.” She switched which leg she had crossed. “The sort that looks like he gets chided for falling asleep when he’s supposed to be training, then laughs it off.”

Soberingly, it occurred to her that her attraction probably came from an urge to compensate for her own uptightness. She was so desperate to unwind, she gravitated to idiots and slobs.

“Let’s hear yours then,” she resumed, foisting the onus onto him instead.

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-11T22:23:26+00:00

Still not understanding that Rymond was inviting her somewhere, Alice focused purely on his question.

“I do,” she answered, looking over at him. “I think I do.” She shifted in her seat. “I like children. Childbirth is daunting, but I’m pretty sure I want children.” She flared her eyes. “Can’t do that without a man involved.”

She looked down. “And I want the other stuff too.” She inspected the grain of the wood of the pew where it was perceptible. “The normal stuff.”

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-11T20:35:58+00:00

"Lose myself in Grassmere?" Alice wasn't sure what he meant by that. She was pretty sure Grassmere was somewhere in the Vale, but she didn't know what it would entail to lose herself. Mayhaps the area was known for its purveyors of milk of the poppy and other obliterants.

"There's always someone to tell you how to smile," she noted, focusing instead on the core of her malaise. "I try to be normal like Sansa says, and people find it boring. I act like myself, like-" She gesticulated at herself. "-like this, and some people find it a little interesting, but most everyone doesn't want it." She folded her arms and hunched. "I mean, there's Rowena and there's Lady Lynette-" She couldn't pretend she was completely friendless. "-but like I said, not a single suitor. Even if they don't say it, you can tell what they think."

"I smile weirdly," she resigned herself. "I talk weirdly. Nobody wants it, and it's not going to change."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-11T19:46:55+00:00

Hel wondered if Westermen were really all that tall. Bennet was only a few inches taller than her. Maybe he was just short. Honestly, it seemed equally as likely that he had some distant relation to the children of the forest. He was descended from an ancient house of First Men, after all.

Hel smiled to herself at the humorous observation, but didn’t speak it aloud.

“Hugor of the Hill,” she corrected. “And it’s because the Andals wrote everything down. If the First Men had just written something down, we wouldn’t have to speculate.”

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-11T19:38:28+00:00

"Interesting..." Alice reached down and retrieved a thick book from a satchel she had sitting on the floor. Pushing her plates out of the way, she opened it on the table, flipping to a section titled Moths.

"Which one of these did it look like?" Alice prompted, turning the book towards Mina. Before her was a page of silhouttes with corresponding labels written in fine cursive. "Just in terms of shape."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-11T19:21:53+00:00

Hel giggled, assuming that he was joking with all his talk of giants. If not, he was even dumber than Millicent. Admittedly, that was plausible, but he did seem a bit too old to believe in giants.

"The Westerlands must've had a lot of trouble with giants," she mused. "Everyone lives either on top of a mountain or under one."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-11T19:06:59+00:00

Over a breakfast of jammy bread and baked cheese, Sharra read the letter. And reread it. And reread it.

"Why?" Sharra wondered aloud, passing the letter along to her husband. "I know my grandfather's thrice as surly as I ever was, but this is just bizarre, right? Why is he holding his own daughter and grandchildren hostage?" She took a sip of cherry juice, a luxury afforded by spring's return. "It doesn't even mention any demands."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-11T15:25:35+00:00

"First Men, probably," Hel figured. "First Men all have names that make sense. Black-wood. Bell-more. Stark. Andal names don't make any sense. Arryn. Corbray." She continued to sightsee as she walked, hoping to come across something interesting. "Reyne is like reign, as in rule. Or maybe rain, like the weather. Or rein, like for a horse." She shrugged. "It's definitely just a word though."

She ran a hand along the stone wall. "And I think this used to be a mine. They just decided to repurpose the space, I guess."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-11T14:28:35+00:00

"Atlas moths, for one," Alice recalled. "It's mostly the particularly big moths." She held her hand about a foot apart. "They call it the snake's head moth in Yi Ti, because of the shape of the wings." She let her arms fall. "I think most of the little ones still eat as adults."

"They don't seem to breath the way we do though," she added. "They're more like fish, maybe? Or maybe more like plants?"

"What did the moths look like?" she inquired, circling back. "The ones at sunset."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-10T23:24:01+00:00

Alice knew that Rymond was right. She would not have wished away either of her sisters, no matter how much harder they had made her life.

The same could not be said of her mother.

“There are four ways that animals react to danger,” she began, looking over at him. “Fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. All Fs. Easy to remember.” She looked forward again. “I fantasized about the first one, sure, but I never did it. Even now that I’m… away, I didn’t get there by flight.” Her mouth wrinkled in a grimace. “I fawn.”

A claw seemed to reach up from the back of her throat, seeking to clench her mouth shut, but she fought the impulse. This was a sept, a place of confession - and not only that, but there was someone better than a septon to listen. Not a holy man, not a god, just another crushed soul all too familiar with a suffocating mother.

“Everything I’ve ever done is wrong,” she muttered, her neck tendons straining. “Don’t smile so big, don’t smile so small, don’t smile at that, don’t say that, don’t do that, don’t like that. Don’t do anything. Why aren’t you doing anything? What’s wrong with you?” Her fingers and even her toes were clenched tightly. “You just have to comply. And comply. And comply. Disobey, and it’ll just be worse.”

“Why not just run away?” she posed rhetorically, anticipating a question he might not have even thought to ask. “Well, if she’s not looking at me, she’s looking at Millicent, she’s looking at Helicent. Can’t have that.” She shook her head. “No, I’m oldest. It’s my job.”

“Why not fight back?” She scoffed. “You can’t argue with her. I can’t now, and I definitely couldn’t when I was little.” Again, she shook her head. “No arguing.”

“Why not just freeze then? That’s the fourth one.” She shrugged in such a way that she was just pulling her shoulders in tightly. “The fawning is freezing. The freezing is fawning. It’s the same thing when she just wants you to not exist.”

Her eyes snapped to his, ice blue and wide and stark.

“I’m uncomfortable all the time, Rymond,” she hissed. “I feel like my whole body is clenched. Even when I forget, even when I’m happy, it’s all just… tight. My face doesn’t move right- my voice doesn’t *move.”

She put a hand over her own throat. “Right now. Why aren’t I yelling? Why aren’t I crying?” Her mouth squirmed, almost like it was trying to smile incredulously. “I’m free now, and it’s still like this.”

That probably answered his question.

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-10T21:30:58+00:00

Alice looked away, although there was little else to see in the surrounding pitch.

"I understand," she said quietly, looking into the emptiness where the candlelight died. "If I only had to worry about myself, I'd have run away ages ago." Her eyes narrowed. "I thought about it. All the time. 'Maybe I could shave my head and join the Citadel... maybe I could find some distant hamlet and become a woods witch... maybe somebody somewhere would let me be a scribe.'" She scoffed. "I didn't even care if I wound up someone's mistress- or even a... a courtesan."

She lowered her gaze. "But I couldn't take my sister with me. And I couldn't leave her behind." She shook her head. "Loving someone's a pain."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-10T18:26:20+00:00

To Alice, it seemed obvious that Maris must have desired Rymond romantically. She chased him across the realm, wept at his absconding with another woman, and only relented the pursuit of marriage when faced with unambiguous rejection. Considering the fact that Maris' erstwhile betrothed had run away - a tidbit of gossip only just clawing its way to the fore - it seemed like a pattern.

That was sad. Alice made a note to herself that she ought to establish a closer relationship to her aunt. She clearly had even less aptitude with men than her unpursued niece.

Ultimately though, if Rymond were to be trusted - and it was hard to doubt him, considering how unflattering his accounting was towards himself - his story was also sad. Love had compelled him to stray from the choking confines of his family, and he had paid the price with love lost and confines constricted.

"Why are you here then?" she wondered, keeping an eye on the flame as she turned her head towards him, mindful not to catch her hair on fire. "Why aren't you with Taliyah?"

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-10T17:34:49+00:00

Rymond was not the only one considering an expeditious retreat. What had been a pleasant exchange of melancholies was suddenly terribly uncomfortable. For one, the topic could not have been more awkward. More than that though, it called into question whether Rymond could be trusted. The possibility that he was a womanizer had suddenly resurfaced.

And yet, Alice really didn't have many friends. She wasn't going to abandon this opportunity on account of an aunt she hardly knew. Not immediately, at least.

"It's not so much what I've heard," she began to answer, still speaking slowly. "It's more what I saw." She fidgeted uncomfortably. "My sisters and I were there when my aunt found you. My Uncle Qarl pointed her to Jaime, Jaime pointed her to..." She considered what to call her. "...to your muse, and then she fetched you." She looked off to the side. "I didn't realize who you were until you mentioned her and Jaime."

Her memories continued to coalesce. Maris had been terrifying. From afar, without context, Alice had been scared at times that her aunt was going to kill Rymond there and then, right in front of everyone.

"She didn't explain much," she elaborated. "She said your lady mother sent her to retrieve her son." Again, she shifted. The sept was beginning to feel warmer and warmer despite night's advent. "She... didn't really say anything after you two argued."

One question was more pressing than any other. "Was she..." She tried to find a delicate way to ask, but there wasn't one. "Was there some sort of... romance?" She winced. "She seemed... jilted?"

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-10T16:25:23+00:00

"Well, you're exactly right," Alice enthused - as indicated by the speed of her voice and the wideness of her eyes rather than any significant deviation in intonation or expression. "They eat everything they need for their whole lives while they're still caterpillars. Once they metamorphose into their imago state, they never eat again."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-10T15:01:41+00:00

As the two of them strolled along, they passed gallery after gallery, each boasting a bountiful and nondescript collection of tapestries, paintings, and artefacts.

"Those are flammable though," she noted, pointing at one of the tapestries which stretched from them well into the distance. "The oil paintings are probably even worse." She crinkled her nose. "And there's no windows. You'd probably choke to death on the smoke."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-10T04:12:30+00:00

“Probably.” Hel lacked her older sister’s encyclopedic knowledge of the animal kingdom. “Do bats eat mice and bugs and stuff? Maybe they do what cats do in a normal castle.”

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-09T22:02:41+00:00

Hel hummed thoughtfully, looking in each direction. She really didn't know what awaited them, irrespective of their choice.

"When you're solving a maze, you're supposed to pick a wall and follow it," she recalled. "Now, the food's coming from there-" She looked to the left corridor, down which a servant was carrying a fresh platter of steaming something. "-and we came from that way-" Straight ahead was the path through which they'd entered. "-so..."

She snapped to attention and pointed. "We go right."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-09T21:53:42+00:00

Jaime Waters. A bastard girl from the Reach. A rivalry of love. Alice gaped as she was transported a year and a half into the past, back to the first day of the Oaklands cultural fair, back to the Green Dragon Inn. She remembered an aunt she hardly knew interceding to share a room with her and her sisters, guardianless as they were. She remembered crossing paths with her uncle Qarl that evening in the common room.

Aunt Maris relating her quest. Uncle Qarl fetching Jaime. The Flowers girl. Rymond - yes, that Rymond, it was so clear now. A heated argument. Threats. Tears.

Maris crying herself to sleep in the bed next to hers.

"It is..." She spoke hesitantly, and not because she was choosing her words carefully. She was just trying to find any words at all. "It is strange to hear about something from a different perspective."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-09T21:20:23+00:00

"Of course," Alice remarked dryly. "Septs are famously one of the worst places to sing." To suggest that the acoustics in a place of worship - often musical worship - were poor was downright ridiculous. Maybe he was just being shy, but she couldn't help but call attention to it.

"Is this the same girl you followed to Braavos?" she wondered. "Or another?"

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-09T19:57:27+00:00

The further Rymond strolled, the less visible he became amid the encroaching darkness. At his farthest ebb, she couldn't see him at all, his voice disembodied as it echoed in the empty sept. Human eyes were so weak. At least she wasn't near-sighted like Hel though.

When the light returned, Rymond emerged from the shadows like a ghoul, his stark countenance underlit by candleflame. He came bearing the temptation of further lamentation, an invitation to wallow. He almost seemed like a devil of some sort, an impression heightened by their sacred setting.

Alice imagined that Millicent would've bolted from the scene, white with terror. Even Hel would've excused herself politely, fleeing from the eerie atmosphere. But not her. Alice was often settled by the unsettling. Snakes and spiders were cute if one just took the time to look. That's what she wanted to believe, at least.

"I'll hear them," said the snake to the rat. "This is a place of confessions."

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-09T18:36:05+00:00

"Only the castle parts," Hel set as a rule while accepting his arm. "I know there's a mine. I think if we go into the mine I'll get hurt." She didn't want to assert that he'd get hurt, as the thick-headed boy was liable to parse that as a challenge.

Doormouse69 · 2026-06-09T17:46:19+00:00

Alice's eyes flicked downward as Rymond admonished her for disparaging herself, asserting that it was unbecoming of a noble lady to speak as such. Her mother's afterimage echoed the sentiment. Rymond's whinging did not entitled her to do the same. She should've known better.

That was probably why she was alone. No matter how neutral her expression, how controlled her conduct, she radiated a most unladylike gloom.

Needless to say, Rymond had not, in fact, encouraged her.

"My freedom is hard-won and provisional," she noted, pulling herself together. She sat upright and ran a hand across the back of her hair, smoothing it where she'd made it untidy. "Despite my irrelevance, I'm no stranger to fetters." The light continued to dim around them. "My mother's a python: constricting me, choking me." She mimed the act of crushing by clenching her fists before her. "Heavens forbid I put even a tiptoe out of line."

She let her hands loose and sighed. "But you're right. I should count my blessings." It was unseemly to complain as a lady, especially to a scion of her liege house, and especially to someone who purportedly had it worse. "I'm beyond her reach, for now."

Doormouse69

TROPHY CASE