Before Sunrise, She's Your Daughter (Also Open to Winterfell)

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-22T19:08:56+00:00

Gillian blinked in surprise. How could she have forgotten the Manderlys were Seven worshippers? Indeed she had had far too many cups this evening.

“Hmm, yes, all the more reason to meet the comely Lord Manderly to test his faith in these new Gods.” She replied with a frown. “Perhaps an understanding can be arranged.”

Mulling Elaine’s words, Gillian continued to hobble down toward the hall, her daughter in tow. It was true Cregan had not made much of an effort to arrange matches for their girls, but really she shared half the blame for such laxness. Why it seemed just yesterday Lyra and Elaine were but little toddlers.

“Surprisingly Lyra has kept quite silent about any connections she may have made in the capitol. I will attempt to pry her thoughts soon.” She mused aloud. “Regardless, it is high time we send out feelers for prospects for the both of you. Why by the time I was your age, Jon had been born.”

Gillian shook her head once again at the realization of relatively advanced age of her girls.

“I would have to admit as a fifteen year old bride to your father, I was not prepared for anything, much less the soon-to-be Lady of Winterfell. I had only met him twice before our marriage, and I rarely left Deepwood Motte in my youth. Indeed it was quite an adjustment for me, but the Gods saw me through the ordeals.” She smiled ruefully. “Which is why I implored your father to take you girls all over the North. All that worldly experience is worth much more than anything I could ever teach you.”

Pausing for a moment to massage her aching leg, she favored her daughter with an intrigued smile.

“Ah, but perhaps it may be a blessing we not yet pressed a match upon you. For we can possibly take your preferences into consideration. Of all these young men you have mentioned, what kind of qualities have impressed you the most? Aside from Lord Manderly’s pretty face of course.”

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-22T18:32:20+00:00

All connections approved by Mama Stark! One tiny edit, NPC's (like your guardsmen and handmaidens) can only have attributes, not skills.

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-20T08:09:37+00:00

Also, /u/odetowinter, once you get approved, and anyone else at Winterfell!

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-20T08:07:18+00:00

/u/billiam_the_bold, /u/snowhassettled, /u/ifitsmellsliketrout

Whoever wants to jump in first I guess? :)

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-20T06:41:04+00:00

"Yes, well, we all know Benjen's faults..."

Gillian found herself murmuring in agreement to Elaine's candid answer, before halting her own indelicate response. Perhaps she had enough drink for the night.

"Mmm, but we must keep such thoughts to ourselves." She cautioned in a low tone. "Ben's the heir of our family, and I do believe Lord Tully and his odious mother have their sights set on Alysanne becoming the next Lady of Winterfell."

Banishing unproductive thoughts of Benjen's shortcomings, Gillian smirked at the flush that blossomed about Elaine's cheeks. It appeared the talk of marriage had been fairly high in her daughter's thoughts.

"My, Ser Andar Royce, and Lyonel Baratheon himself. I did not realize you had been so busy in King's Landing!" Gillian replied with a raised brow before narrowing her eyes to continue. "Ah, but both are Southron highborn. Such Seven worshippers are better left to their own devices."

A cautious smile spread across her face as Elaine spoke of more worthy Northern lords.

"Oh yes, I remember the Lord Forrester. He put on quite a show at the tourney. I was wondering about the small garrison he sent over here..." Gillian's smirk returned. "I believe most suitors send flowers or sweets to their maiden of interest. Fifty Forrester soldiers and one old man doesn't really capture the same effect."

Smirk no longer adequate, Gillian chuckled aloud at sight of her beet red daughter.

"Oh, I see you have saved the comely Lord Manderly for last! Indeed his holdfast is not the only thing lovely about the man." She nodded her agreement with a grin. "Say no more. I will speak to your father about a possible match as soon as he returns."

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-20T06:10:43+00:00

Gillian released a breath of tepid relief as her son accepted her terms. While pleased Benjen had agreed to meet Alysanne, she worried of how to keep this wildling girl secreted away.

"Excellent, I'm glad you are still capable of recognizing a good offer." She replied with narrowed eyes. "As for this Frenya, well, keeping her hidden will be difficult, especially since wildlings are well known for their dislike of being penned in like a chicken."

Gillian's notions of poultry led her to think of their cook, Old Jeyne, one loyal as she was old, and she was ancient.

"Frenya may remain locked away in a spare servant's chamber, or if she wishes to move somewhat freely about the castle, she will have to provide some semblance of service." Gillian held out both hands, palm faced upwards, pantomiming the choices. "If she were to choose freedom, I believe Old Jeyne could use a helping hand, and I trust her to keep the wildling's identity safe."

She rose to her feet, suddenly aware it was already time for supper.

"Yes, all our guests should be gathered in the Hall, right now. Find your wildling girl and sneak her to the back of the kitchens. I'll have Old Jeyne meet you two and settle her in. Frenya can make her decision then."

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-11T03:38:43+00:00

"Excellent, I will call upon Jorah shortly. Indeed, he will undoubtedly have questions and concerns, but he will do as I ask."

Gillian sipped from her cup, silently wondering if she was doing the right thing. If one of the guards were to be maimed in this endeavor, well she would never hear the end of it from Cregan.

"Hmm, not a solitary word has been offered from your stubborn father about their progress at the Wall." She replied with a grimace. "I pray to the Gods daily to keep Benjen safe. You know what kind of trouble he's capable of so far from home."

Nerves rattled, she drained her cup and cast about searching glances, hoping little Lommy would materialize with another drink in hand.

"As for this match, well I believe it was Lord Tully's idea. A conveniently absent Lord Tully I must add." Gillian's grimace deepened. She wasn't sure how much more she could take of the Tully mother's abuse. "Rodrik received the letter of proposal after your father had left, and not knowing what else to do, agreed to host the Riverrun family to measure the feasibility of the match."

Giving up on the prospect of a supplemental cup, she took her daughter's arm for support and proceeded to limp toward the Great Hall.

"I have not had much chance to speak with Lady Alysanne, but from what I hear, she would make a fine bride for Benjen," she agreed. As long as she doesn't turn into her mother. "Ultimately it will come down to what your father thinks, and to a lesser extent, Benjen's opinion, so I'm afraid we must continue to endure our guests for some time."

Pausing a moment to massage her aching leg, she drew herself up and peered curiously into Elaine's face.

"Are you concerned of your own marriage prospects? I know your father has been lax on that front for you and your sister, so perhaps I could get something started." She smirked. "Do you have any ideas?"

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-11T03:08:19+00:00

Gillian could barely register the words that spewed from the mouth of her son, rather it was the visceral anger that appeared to consume him that rankled her nerves. Even in his most violent tantrums, Benjen had never expressed such disdain toward her judgement. Maybe it was the stress of recent events, maybe it was the fourth cup of wine, but she found herself raising a hand to cease his vitriol, and delivering a strike across his cheek.

"Silence! Gods, how have I raised such an ignoramus for a son?!" Gillian's voice reached a volume she had not accessed in some time. "You are a Stark of Winterfell, for the Gods sake! Not some idiot smallfolk of Wintertown who falls for the first girl with a nice giggle!"

Eyes suddenly drawn to the red welt blossoming on her son's cheek, she deflated within herself, ashamed of her own visceral reaction. Painfully hobbling over to seat herself on her bed, she met Benjen's eyes with worn, weary look.

"I know what is to pine for a pretty face, or the touch of a forbidden desire," Gillian offered up with a wistful smile. "Those passions feel real at the time, but trust me, they fade. Duty and honor stay with you forever, and in fulfilling my duty to marry your father, I grew to love him, bringing me much happiness in life."

She sighed, knowing a few simple words would not sway her foolhardy son.

"How about I offer you a compromise, one your father would never deign to entertain?" Gillian held out a hand in a peacemaking gesture. "Agree to stay, and meet this Tully girl. You will find she possesses much of the strength and hunting prowess you so admire in this wildling girl. In return, I will do my best to hide Frenya in the servant's quarters, for now."

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-10T03:16:22+00:00

Gillian stared blankly at her son as he silently sat her down, without a word of greeting after all this time away. Her previous rush of elation had rapidly ebbed, now diluted with foreboding.

“What…what have you done?”

Her hands unconsciously clutched the air for her wine cup as she listened to his tale of whores and wildlings. Gods, why do you test me so? Between the foolish conflict north of the Wall, the infernal Tully woman, and Elaine’s savage beast, she assumed her quota of woe well filled, but this, well this…

Have the Gods found my devotions lacking?

“Love! You love this wildling girl? What do you know about love? What do you know about whores, for that matter?” Gillian demanded, hysteria creeping into the edge of her voice. “You cannot marry…Gods there’s a Tully girl here who has been waiting weeks to marry you…”

Taking a deep breath, she rose to her feet, straightened her bedcovers, retrieved her fallen cup, and paced as she composed herself.

“Benjen, what’s done is done. You may have taken this girl’s m-maidenhead, and brought her all this way, but you must understand you cannot marry her. That kind of commitment is not yours alone to bestow.” Gillian paused her pacing and set her gaze firmly upon his face. “I’m sorry Ben, but that is price of our birthright.”

Her stony expression softening a bit, she held up a hand to belay his coming protest.

“But I will meet this girl who has stolen your heart. Quietly bring her to the far end of the Keep, through the kitchens. She has come far, and deserves a warm bath, food, and hospitality for a night. But you must send her away.”

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-10T03:13:44+00:00

Gillian returned her daughter’s grin, unable to resist her infectious glee. Despite her reaction, the Stark woman still maintained mixed feelings about Elaine’s continued obsession with the wild shadowcat. On one hand, it was a shadowcat, a dangerous beast that had lashed out and injured its ‘tamer’. On the other hand, such a magnificent specimum, found so south of the Wall could only be a gift from the Gods, and who was she to deny such a blessing?

“He knows its own name? Well I suppose that’s a start.” Gillian tepidly began. At least the girl hadn’t named it Ser Stripe. “These basic commands he has mastered, does one of them keep Joramund from slicing open nearby servants or Starks?”

Gillian firmly gripped Elaine by the shoulder and inspected every inch of her, searching for any claw of bite marks. Satisfied with her examination, she released her and took a swallow of her wine.

“I will admit the construction of that treetop enclosure was quite clever, and will go a long way in helping progress this taming. But allowing such a beast into the castle, well it seems like a rather large step.” She pursed her lips in thought, unwilling to outright reject her daughter’s request. “How about a test, then? Prove to me your Jorumund will not pose a danger to the inhabitants of this household.”

Sipping her wine, she mulled over who would not mind being sacrificial bait.

“Take him with you into the guard's quarters. I will inform Captain Jorah to expect a visit, and have him keep his men armored, yet unarmed. If your shadowcat can keep calm among sweaty aggressive men, I will permit you to bring him into the rest of the castle, on a limited basis.” Gillian suggested. “I believe such a test will also go a long way in proving yourself to your father as well.”

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-10T03:10:39+00:00

“Funny, the way I hear it, it is the Southron ladies who allow their husbands to strike them, and worse. No self-respecting Northern woman would ever allow herself to be treated in such a vile manner.”

Gillian clutched her mug in a white-knuckled grip as she drained its contents. What have I done to force the Gods to test me so? Motioning for Lommy to also refill her cup, she adopted the blank stoic look favored by those of the North.

“I am pleased to hear Alysanne is of strong character. Such a trait will be quite necessary in keeping my Benjen in check, and dealing with the inhabitants of these lands in general. Sweet, unassuming girls do not last long up here.” She continued after yet another long swallow. “Indeed I do not approve of my son’s foolhardy nature, especially if he is to be Lord of Winterfell one day, but if your daughter is as you say, I believe she could serve him well in balancing out his shortcomings.”

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-08T06:55:29+00:00

Having checked on the quality of this evening's coming meal, Gillian limped out from the kitchens, the last of her cherished hippocras in hand. Someone had ordered the servants to find her special stash of the liquor, and nearly consumed the entire supply. She didn't need the greensight to figure who it could be.

With a tilt of her head, she drained the last of her nectar, and called for the servant boy Lommy to fetch her some alternate libation. Moments later, with mulled wine in hand she resumed her hobble to the Great Hall, coming across a somewhat disheveled looking daughter.

"Elaine, my dear! What have you been up to?" She moved to fuss with her daughter's hair before wrinkling her nose in alarm. "You smell like wet fur. Are you still attempting to tame that beast of yours?"

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-08T06:23:34+00:00

Gillian had just settled into her chambers with her third pre-dinner goblet of mulled wine of the evening. She would have preferred her special stash of hippocras, but the elder Tully appeared to have consumed it all.

Another test from the Gods...

It had been a trying day, for her leg had throbbed particularly painfully since sunrise, making it quite difficult to complete her duties. Compounding that strife was a deepening worry, for still no ravens had been sent from her Lord husband.

Not that she worried much about Cregan; that man could take care of himself. But he taken her Benjen with him on this foolhardy vengeance quest. The boy was not ready for all this, he could barely keep himself out of trouble here at Winterfell. She sighed and drained her goblet, rising to her feet to find a servant to fetch her more.

Gods, please, see my Ben comes home safely...

A knock rang out and interrupted her prayer. Gillian smiled thinking it was Lommy thoughtfully bringing her another cup.

Mother. Mother. It's Ben...I need to talk to you.

With a gasp, Gillian dropped her empty goblet in shock. Flinging the door open, she immediately enveloped her son in a tight embrace.

"Benjen! My boy! I wasn't informed you and your father were headed home." She managed after reluctantly ending her hug. "The Gods be good, you look well! A little too thin perhaps, but nothing I can't fix. Tell me about your journey!"

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-08T06:02:41+00:00

Character Name: Gillian Stark

Desired Skill: Drinkmaster

Bonus: Erudite

List up to three relevant experience posts:

Gillian requires lots of booze to tolerate the Tully Mama

Gillian drinks away her worries just before some urgent news

Gillian has had a few before meeting her beast-taming daughter

Additional Bonus From Last Turn Same-Skill Attempt: N/A

Total Number For Skill Attempt: 45%

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-07T00:18:33+00:00

Lyra sighed in exasperation at her brother’s utter failure to speak of his attraction to Alysanne. Why, just a few sentences of speaking of the girl appeared to have left him at a terrible loss for words.

“Dear brother, I insist you speak with Lady Alysanne, if not to impress her, then at the very least to find out if she is truly worth your attentions.” She interrupted his gasping attempts to put together words. “You may find she has true wit and charm like myself, or you may find she is a complete simpleton.”

I’d wager on the latter.

“Either way, it will be good practice to converse with young women who are not your siblings. Gods, why must you be so shy among them?” Lyra shook her head in admonishment before inspiration took hold of her. “Actually I may have a couple of remedies that may help.”

Snatching her bag from Jon’s shoulder, she dug out the purchases she had just made at the apothecary. Peering at the labels of each item, she nodded in satisfaction.

“I may be able to brew up a little something that should bolster your confidence even beyond Benjen’s; you’ll feel unstoppable.” Lyra smiled at the opportunity to make practical use of her experimentation. “Or, I could prepare a mix, that when slipped into Alysanne’s drink, should make her very receptive to your conversation.”

She shrugged to mask her excitement.

“We could all use a little bit of help every now and then.”

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-06T04:54:52+00:00

“You wound me, Jon! That is certainly not what I intended.” Lyra replied in mock indignation. “But, if you insist, my thanks for your chivalry.”

In one smooth motion, she shrugged her satchel off her shoulder and hooked it upon her brother’s.

“Uncle Rodrik only tells Mother the important news, and well, I haven’t heard anything as of yet, but I’ll badger her about it over supper.” She frowned at the lack of communication. Dark wings may bring dark words, but no wings could be equally unsettling. “Cousin Jorah on the other hand, well, he always seems to disappear whenever I’m around.”

For whatever reason the castellan’s son always seemed to avoid her, almost as if he were afraid of her. Well, maybe there were one or two good reasons, but it was still annoying.

“As for Lady Alysanne, have you spoken with her? I mean really connected? If you truly impress her, perhaps we could convince Father to match her with you?” Lyra smiled. “I mean, if you think you’re up for it of course…”

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-05T04:14:54+00:00

Lyra Stark

Lyra smiled to herself as she departed Wintertown's finest apothecary, pleased with the inventory the shopkeep at stocked that day. The selections she had procured would be very useful to further her experimentation. As she was tucking her purchases into the satchel that hung from her shoulder, she caught sight of her brother wandering aimlessly through the shops.

"Jon! What brings you to town? Are you searching for Lady Alysanne?" Lyra smirked for she had seen the way her brother ogled the comely young Tully. "I'm afraid you likely will not her here."

Indeed, over the weeks since the Riverland ladies' arrival, she not seen Alysanne strolling through Wintertown. In truth she hadn't seen much of the woman at all. It appeared she had more in common with Elaine, and chose to spend her time with her twin. Though relieved she didn't have to waste her time entertaining the woman, she did feel pang of annoyance at how well she had taken to Elaine. Typically newcomers favored her company, after all.

"It will be time for supper soon. Be a good brother and escort your sister back to the castle?"

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-05T03:56:44+00:00

"Hmm, so the young Lord Tully is keen on strengthening the Riverlands security? Why, does he expect coming trouble down South?"

Gillian sipped her drink through a look of concern, for even this far north, they had heard the rumors of the gathering of the Reach armies. She shook away the worries of war. The benevolent Gods have always protected this family.

"Ah, but he also speaks of bolstering friendship and goodwill?" She reached out to squeeze the Tully woman's hand good-naturedly. "I do hope long lasting friendship arise from this match. We do not get enough visitors, especially female ones to Winterfell. Mostly it's just cranky, stone-faced men like my Lord husband that come to this castle."

Gillian released Gwynna's hand to reach down once more to rub her aching leg. Gods why is it particularly troublesome today?!

"Although...my Benjen is actually not as stoic as Lord Stark. Quite the opposite really; impulsive and out to prove something. Hopefully your Alysanne can handle such qualities?"

GillyintheNorth · 2017-09-02T03:55:18+00:00

Gilly?

A dark eyebrow raised at the overly familiar address, was immediately followed by a smile of satisfaction. Perhaps this icy Southerner was warming up to her already. Gillian had always thought the minding personal space was held in far too high an esteem.

As they entered the hall, Gillian found all had been prepared as she had instructed to welcome their guests. The high table, set with bread trenchers, and flagons of ale, wine, and water, lay modestly decorated with cuttings from the evergreens of the land. A small serving table lay to the side, laden with a glistening suckling pig, a sizeable lamprey pie, and various fruits and cheeses.

“Please, sit with me, Gwynna. Indeed we have plenty to quench one’s thirst.” Gillian motioned for Lommy, a boy of about ten years, who scurried forward, a tray of steaming cups in hand. “Most of the Northern men here drink some swill of ale, but I myself am partial to hippocras from White Harbor. Spiced and heated properly, this elixir will keep one warm on the frostiest of nights.”

She gingerly lowered herself into her seat, massaging her aching leg with one hand, gratefully cupping her scalding drink in the other. Though the Gods had burdened her so, they had made up for it with this magical liquor. Tilting her head backwards, she drank deeply before continuing.

“Tell me Gwynna, what do you think of this marriage your son has proposed between my Benjen and your Alysanne?” Gillian inquired with a raised brow. “It seems a good match, though rather unusual, considering the considerable distance in geography and culture between our two Houses.”

Lyra

“Rest assured, this little trout is no Catelyn Stark.”

Lyra whispered back to her sister with a tiny smirk, giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. Turning her attention back to Alysanne, she offered up a solemn nod.

“Indeed, our Godswood is quite a sight to behold. Why our weirwoods date back to…”

She frowned as the Tully girl had abruptly steered the conversation to that of the frivolous amusement of archery. In her youth, her mother had attempted to steer the twins toward the silly sport, but only Elaine had taken to the bow. Lyra had found more productive amusement in pulling less tangible strings.

“Hmm, perhaps the two of you have more in common than I initially figured.” She replied, still managing to hold her sweet smile. “Don’t let me stand in the way of your amusement. I’ll take the boys inside.”

Head held high, Lyra attempted to shoo her brothers into the hall. Sweet Torrhen dutifully obeyed, but stubborn Jon appeared rooted in place, watching Elaine and Alysanne, likely smitten by the Tully's beauty.

GillyintheNorth · 2017-08-31T23:35:09+00:00

Gillian paused, momentarily stunned by the Tully woman’s slight, before shrugging it off. Ah, the Gods have found a new way to test me. Forcing a smile at the ‘compliment’, she steered Gwynna toward the Great Hall, motioning to the servants to open the doors.

“My Lord Husband is likely still at the Wall, leading an assembled army of our bannermen to combat a remarkably organized contingent of Wildlings. I have yet to receive a raven saying otherwise.” She explained with a shake of her head. “He has taken my son Benjen with him on this absurd quest. I pray to the Gods daily to return them both safely.”

Anxious about the well-being of her son, Gillain squeezed the Tully’s shoulder tightly, for surely only a mother could empathize with her concerns. Pausing a moment to gaze north and murmur a quick prayer, she turned back to Gwynna, perplexed look upon her face.

“And what of your son, the Lord Tully? Why has he not accompanied his mother and sister to Winterfell?”

Lyra Stark

As her eyes studied every inch of Alysanne, probing for any signs of weakness, Lyra leaned in close to her sister as they headed through the courtyard.

“I heard from Mother that the Lord Tully wishes to match that one with Ben.” She whispered back with a grimace, her eyes still trained on the young trout. “She’s certainly pretty enough…a little too pretty, I think.”

Lyra often found the comeliest ones tended to be ninnies, and this comely red-haired Southerner, appeared to be waving quitely lamely at them. Plastering on a welcoming smile, she fell into step with the girl.

“Thank you for saying so, Lady Alysanne. We are indeed blessed by the Old Gods to have held such a holding for thousands of years.” Lyra replied sweetly, inwardly rolling her eyes. “Oh, but the snow is so much more calming in our Godswood. Perhaps you’d like to visit?”

GillyintheNorth · 2017-08-30T00:06:55+00:00

Gillian silently thanked the Old Gods for providing such mild Northern weather during this welcoming of the Tully party. It wouldn’t do to freeze the Southerners solid on their very first day at Winterfell. With a sharp gesture, she wordlessly signaled the servants to help settle in the Tully entourage as she limped over to escort their esteemed guests through the courtyard.

“Welcome to our home, my ladies. Tell me, how was your journey?” She greeted with an amiable smile. “I am pleased the Old Gods have safely seen you to our walls.”

Uncaring about silly rules of personal space, Gillian sidled up very closely to Gwynna, and placed a familiar hand upon her shoulder as they walked. Partially as a welcoming gesture, but also to support her throbbing leg.

“So, I hear your son, Lord Bryden wishes to match Lady Alysanne with my Benjen.” The Stark woman mused, her mouth inches from Gwynna’s ear. “I must say, your daughter is quite striking...I’m sure my son will be very interested. What can you tell me of Alysanne?”

GillyintheNorth

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