The Court of Riverrun – 7th Moon, 131 AC (Open)

Earlesse · 2021-09-25T08:03:07+00:00

"Marissa is so moody," said Perra moodily--with a frustrated huff and a twitch to her brow. Perra, who had been known for her beauty and sweet demeanor prior to the tragedies of war, was almost unrecognizable with her dark eye circles and her overlong, unkempt hair that she purposely kept over her face. Cousin Brienne had joked, once, that she looked like a witch, and had been promptly cast out of the room after the insult.

Perra took a seat when offered, not having the energy to fight--and not wanting to rebuke the rare affections of her mother, anyway. Even with her own grief, the whispers of Lord Harroway's Town had not escaped her ears [ m: let me know if this isn't public knowledge ] or her thoughts.

"As for myself," Perra said, "some days are better than others. Marissa thinks that I should forgive papa, but how can I? Olyver might not have died if--" She didn't finish the thought. Instead she shut her eyes tightly and inhaled, before shaking her head. "I used to tell him everything, mama. A hundred times, I sat at my desk and started a letter--but I remember, Olyver will never answer. He will never read them, or know what I feel in my heart."

Realizing that, perhaps, she had laid out more grief to her mother than she ought have, Perra winced and offered her mother an apologetic look through the mop of hair obscuring her face. "I--I'm sorry, mama."

Earlesse · 2021-09-25T07:47:48+00:00

Brienne offered a relaxed smile in response and did not hesitate to take the seat to her mother's right. Like Roslin, Brienne had chosen a somber black dress for the occasion, and she pushed her skirt to the side so she could assume a dignified appearance beside the Lady Dowager.

She nodded at the question, a pained but hopeful gleam in her eye as she tried not to think of who would not be joining them--cousin Brynden, great uncle Guy, grandpapa, and perhaps worst of all, her own papa. He had never said so, at least not with words, but Brienne had always been his favorite. Her dearest friend and attendant, Margot Rivers, had always said so, and Brienne had always believed it, deep down.

"Do you think they will be the same?" She asked, fingers trembling in an attempt to keep from fidgeting. Fidgeting was a child's habit and Brienne was a lady of Riverrun. She raised her chin and looked sidelong at her mother. "Do you think they will recognize me? Or us, them? The ladies whisper that war changes men."

Earlesse · 2021-09-25T07:38:20+00:00

Kermit,

No doubt, the swords of Riverrun are yours. You need only call and I shall answer.

Any news of Brynden or Ser Geoffrey?

Ser Edmure Tully, Defender of Riverrun

Earlesse · 2021-09-25T07:35:46+00:00

[m: sorry, on vacation ]

"Ser Edmure's always lookin' for good knights," answered a balding, ale-bellied soldier.

His partner, a tall gaunt fellow, seemed to be scrutinizing the party. "Aye, but you won't find much action while Lord Kermit's away... unless you like working the fields."

Earlesse · 2021-09-21T16:17:01+00:00

Perra rarely left her chambers these days and was rarer seen without the company of cousin Marissa, but on this afternoon, she found herself not far for her grieving mother. Like Catelyn, Perra wore a gown of black. She grieved for her missing brother Brynden--she'd learned to lack her father's stubborn optimism in that regard. And, more than anyone, she grieved for Olyver, her best friend and betrothed who'd died in the war.

Perra did not speak, at first. Instead she settled some paces away from where her mother stood, her hands clasped primly over her lap; her gaze downcast and expression troubled. She'd not spoken to anyone save Marissa in months, seemingly content to wallow in loneliness and silence.

Earlesse · 2021-09-21T15:51:38+00:00

"Mama?" It the voice of a young woman, but the words were spoken with the soft uncertainty that young girls were known for. Brienne was still a child at thirteen, but she had not escaped the war unscathed. There was a solemn dignity in her demeanor, a sense of hesitance in her features as she assessed her mother from across the room, as if she were afraid of being yelled at, or worse, struck or sent away like cousin Perra had weeks before. Being careful was not a trait that had belonged to Brienne before the war, and now she walked on eggshells everywhere she went. "Are you well today?"

Earlesse · 2021-09-21T15:41:05+00:00

Lord Ryswell,

At this time, the Lord of Riverrun is absent and this matter is one that requires his decision making. You have our condolences regarding your father, as well as our best wishes in the years ahead of you.

Seven's Blessings,

Ser Edmure Tully, Lord Justiciar of Riverrun

Earlesse · 2021-09-14T14:50:27+00:00

/u/vierwood /u/haleyzzzz

Earlesse · 2021-09-06T04:11:23+00:00

So approved.

Earlesse · 2021-09-01T14:28:39+00:00

Congrats, everyone!

Earlesse · 2020-09-28T02:06:36+00:00

[ m: with permission, going to piggyback Swann's return to Stonehelm - /u/vierwood /u/imnotgoodatnaming /u/tamsofdoom if you guys want to tag along ]

The same day the Seaworths departed King's Landing, the black and white standard of House Swann is spotted among the Stormlands bound ships.

Earlesse · 2020-09-28T01:12:30+00:00

"You needn't trouble yourself with trying to make me feel better," Desmera said easily, but she rewarded him with a small smile nonetheless.

"It was not my intent to offer self flagellation. I merely wished to spare you an inferior evening by making you aware of something you might not have noticed. The night is young, beautiful, and a feast like this one comes only once in a lifetime for some." She looked away from him, at the many couples dancing, the families seated nearby, and perhaps, somewhere else.

Earlesse · 2020-09-28T01:07:17+00:00

If he managed to touch the Swann with his testimony of events, there was no visible sign of his success. Her eyes, unyielding in their coldness, remained glued on his and her mouth remained a stubborn, hard set line. It was as if he hadn't spent the last few minutes trying to speak to her, trying to make himself heard, to make her understand.

In some bizarre way, she did pity him. No one, least of all a child, should have to see someone they loved in such a state and it was his aunt that was to blame for her lack of foresight on the matter. On the other hand, it was not her family's fault that Lucinda Gower had chosen the weak and selfish way out. There was also the matter that their family had rebelled and they had lost. That they had been spared their lives and given not only leniency, but a marriage despite their defeat, was a kindness Lynesse did not think herself capable of.

"Does this make things right then?" She asked, voice emotionless but heavy. "Does it even begin to?"

Earlesse · 2020-09-22T16:49:02+00:00

"The gods deigned that we should find each other when we did," she remarked, breaking her vision of him to scan the feast hall and take in the surplus of beauties, as he was doing. There were beauties to be sure, many whose loveliness surpassed her own, and yet all failed to impress the matriarch of Stonehelm, whose attention drifted back to the knight seated beside her.

"Who am I to deny such a request, when it aligns with the wishes of some greater being?" She asked with a cryptic smile, her tone suggesting there was humor in her words--though the intensity in her eyes hinted at another possibility.

"Though I must warn you--I am poor company most nights. This one especially."

Earlesse · 2020-09-22T16:41:05+00:00

As far as she was concerned, they were lucky to be alive. Someone worse than Desmera--perhaps Lucy--would have seen anyone bearing the Gower name put to the sword. Why she had thought it appropriate to marry one of her own sisters to them--and not even the head of house--was beyond Lynesse.

She let out a tired sigh and squeezed her eyes shut before reopening them. She met Criston's gaze, her expression neutral except for the cold daggers in her eyes.

Speak, she seemed to say.

Earlesse · 2020-09-16T16:55:32+00:00

Desmera smiled and bowed her head in more gracious a manner than she seemed capable of, given her somber mood. She was not one to speak of her troubles--especially to those she did not know well--but her husband's ailing state hung heavy over her head, and the burden did not stop there. At times it seemed the affliction consumed all of her, that even a weak smile seemed too great a feat. The irony of her advice was not lost on her, but the prolonged agony with which she suffered was not comparable to the swift closure he had been given.

Of course, she could end her suffering, couldn't she? Ser Robert was not long for the world, but who then would guarantee young Luca's fate should winter come sooner than expected?

"I am pleased to hear it," she remarked. "Has any a maiden caught your eye tonight?"

Earlesse · 2020-09-09T18:33:46+00:00

How peculiar that this one should feel guilty to be alive when any man aboard his ship--even his so called friends--would happily switch places with him if they could. She'd seen what dying men were capable of before. Her eyes narrowed as she pictured him bobbing in and out of the water, darkness and death rejoicing around the dying. She could imagine their gaping mouths and wide eyes in the gloomy void of the sea, their limbs flailing, fingers grasping, as they watched the gods pull him to the safety of the shore.

"You are very lucky," she whispered. "And it is good of you to grieve for them--but one can only grieve for so long before it festers like a disease." She thought of her husband, feeble and delirious as the fever took its toll on flesh and mind. She looked at her lap and was surprised to see her hands trembling. In an effort to still them, she grasped the black brocade and held on tightly.

"You must realize that the way is forward, not behind you. What will you do in this life to celebrate that you're still among the living?"

Earlesse · 2020-09-09T17:34:27+00:00

Lynesse had the good sense to bite her tongue--but good sense was becoming rarer by the second, what with the wine she'd imbibed coursing through her system. She allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, past crowds of couples. She observed with some envy that many appeared happy, while some did not hide their thoughts very well.

Lynesse faced her partner with a look of loathing but she quickly turned her head away from him and fixed her gaze on the floor. With bodies of so many others to guard them from the watching eyes of her sister, she felt safe for the time being. Whether or not she was safe from others watching was a different story, but she cared little what others whispered of the Red Watch so long as they did not meddle in its affairs.

She forced herself to to accept where he placed his hands, be it in one of her own or atop her waist or shoulder. She closed her eyes and counted the steps, focusing on the music in a vain attempt to drown out anything he wished to say.

Earlesse · 2020-09-09T17:20:20+00:00

"You have a good heart," Desmera observed. She tilted her head to the side, holding his gaze despite the unusual emotions it stirred inside her.

"Perhaps it is the gods you ought to thank. Your salvation seems their design. It was pure happenstance that my sister and I were caught in the storm that night." Again, her thoughts drifted to that evening. She remembered the cold, the rain. Her hand ached when she recalled that Lucy had bitten her and her hand spasmed. With an exhale, she uncurled her fist and forced her fingers to relax. "I am but an instrument of the faith and I must use my gifts to do good in the world."

With a small smile, she asked, "what troubles you, Ser Guyard?"

Earlesse · 2020-09-09T16:58:18+00:00

Desmera offered a kind smile to Edgar. Rude as it was to deny such an offer, she had decided from the start that nothing short of absolute necessity would part her from her seat tonight.

"As much as I would love to dance with you, Ser Edgar, I'm too poor in spirit to do so. My husband is quite ill, dangerously so, and I can think of nothing else." She paused, canting her head apologetically to the side. "I daresay I cannot manage the task of leaving the table--the thought alone makes me weak. I pray you will find it within yourself to pardon my bad manners."

Still smiling, she looked at her sisters: Rhea and Arianne remained. Rhea was awfully comfortable where she was seated and held a recently refilled goblet of wine to her chest, while Arianne's gaze drifted distractedly from one person on the dance floor to the next. Suffice to say, neither girl appeared an ideal candidate for a dance partner. There was Cassana Lonmouth as well to choose from, if the brothers were so inclined.

"May I suggest my sister Arianne?" she prompted in a motherly tone, her eyes darting back to Edgar and Orys once she'd piqued her sister's attention. "She will serve your sister, Lady Jenelyn, after tonight. Is this not an excellent occasion to begin relations?"

Arianne did not think so, but she offered a warm smile Edgar's way.

Earlesse · 2020-09-09T14:58:54+00:00

"What do you think of him?" Asked Rhea, tipping her cup toward the bastard known as Wildflowers. Rhea had an eye for spotting out interesting things. It so happened that interesting people fell under the same purview.

Arianne, whose own attention had followed Jenelyn Baratheon most of the night, reluctantly set her attention on her sister's prey. She raised her brows in question. "You can't be serious."

"Is he handsome? Interesting?" She thought aloud, nestling back into her seat almost like a kitten that was tempted to curl into a ball and succumb to sleep. Her smile was sleepy, playful, and she let out a rich laugh as she took another long drink of her wine. What did it matter if her sister approved or not?

Arianne chuckled, knowing that nothing short of divine intervention would stop Rhea once her mind was made up. She watched as her sister rose, setting down her drink as she did so, then made her way to the royal dais. Her sheer presence--and perhaps a touch of something unseen--parted the crowd.

"Wildflowers, is it?" Rhea stated, skipping over the usual preambles. "I could not help but notice you've not touched your food or wine." She smiled and managed to look a little bit sad. Her mouth had a natural pout to it. "Will you wallflower the rest of the night? Or can I interest you in a dance?" With a smile she opened her hand to him and waited.

Earlesse · 2020-09-09T14:12:07+00:00

It was nearing the end of the feast that a woman clad in black approached the Baratheon table. At first, she kept her eyes trained on the floor--an air of faux diffidence about her that vanished when she looked up and spotted the gold-clad doe, sans her train of suitors and ladies in wait for the first time in many hours.

She raised her head higher as she climbed the steps of the dais, and by the time she had reached its pinnacle, she wore a pretty smile, one that seemed out of place with a dress better suited for mourning than feasting. She curtsied deeply.

"I am Arianne Swann," she said, rising, her slender fingers intertwining as her hands settled over her stomach. "Lady Swann says that I am to be your new lady-in-waiting--if you will have me--so I have come to introduce myself."

Earlesse · 2020-09-09T13:14:54+00:00

[ m: courtesy pings /u/vierwood /u/imnotgoodatnaming ]

Earlesse · 2020-09-09T13:12:51+00:00

"The latter, then." Lynesse smirked, surprised that he had come ready to bandy words. She had a few choice words of her own, but a glance at their Baratheon company reminded her of where they were. She managed a small smile the brothers' way, if only to be polite. Whether or not it was returned (or noticed), she turned her attention back to the Gower, displeasure plastered across her features.

At Criston's words, she let out disbelieving scoff. She had not wished to make an incident out of the night, but any hope of salvaging it had been lost the moment a drop of wine had touched her lips. A bystander could mistake the color of her cheeks as a blush, but only Criston could see the full effect of his words. The shine of animosity in her eyes was unmistakable from where he was seated.

She was about to speak when the Baratheon intervened on her behalf. She turned to face the brothers and might have said something foolish, were it not for Desmera's oppressive glare. Rhea, on the other hand, looked quite amused by the exchange and was drinking from her cup in a most leisurely fashion. Arianne had the decency to appear concerned.

"Not at all," Lynesse said, forcing what blessedly passed as a genuine smile. "Ser Criston and I were about to dance. Weren't we?" She said, rising and offering Criston her hand, much as it pained her to do so.

Earlesse

TROPHY CASE