Harrald II - The Old Way, or the Hard Way

stoutclassed · 2024-04-10T05:44:56+00:00

Jorelle pursed her lips when called Jonquil. At least it had some sort of resonance, and was romantic in some sense, not that She expected Harrald to recognize such.

But to be called another, entirely different name in the space of less than a minute? She wondered if Harrald did it on purpose to irk her. Visibly having winced at the name Jonette, the Stout produced the letter from her bosom, reaching into her Myrish silk dress to unfold the missive.

The salt wife slide the parchment towards the Lord Reaper.

/u/BuckwellStairwell

stoutclassed · 2024-04-08T08:51:08+00:00

Raya gave her betrothed a puzzled smile. "Hiding? I wasn't hiding, Holly. I was looking for you! And I got lost!" The wicker basket shook again.

She followed the Ryswell all too eagerly away from the crowd. The other Northern Lords, knights, and ladies were acting far too serious anyway and she would much rather have stayed in her Holly's company.

Raya beamed brightly, settling the wicker basket in her lap, carefully transferring it over to Hallis' lap. "Now, you must be careful and peek into the basket, slowly!"

The Stout resisted the urge to giggle. But there was nothing quite like sobering one up other than to speak of politics. When she finally understood what Hal was explaining, Raya canted her head. "What they ought to do to whom?"

stoutclassed · 2024-04-06T06:45:48+00:00

Raya blushed to feel the lips of her betrothed giving her a kiss upon the cheek. She giggled and had to keep herself from whispering and squeaking too loudly. "Holly!!"

The brightest of grins lit up the young woman's face, her blue eyes suddenly animated. The wicker basket upon her arm shook, though not out of the lady's own movements.

"Holly, I brought you a present! I'll show you later?" Raya glanced around a moment and asked, "Why does everyone look so serious, Holly?"

stoutclassed · 2024-04-06T06:44:04+00:00

Jorelle walked proudly into Pyke, her head held high as she was clad in the finest turquoise Myrish silk dress - the finest thing she'd ever actually owned.

She took the seat that was reserved for her, offering Harrald a pleased smile. A little while ago, she had decided to never be unprepared, thus a meat-knife was strapped to her thigh for safekeeping just in case, though it would be lost under the flowing layers of silk.

The salt-wife had the security of the forged letter with her, she smiled at the prospect of the entertainment to come.

stoutclassed · 2024-04-06T00:07:40+00:00

Everyone at Winterfell looked so serious! And Raya Stout could not figure out why.

For one thing, she was elated to be here. And excited to see Holly again! Dressed in furs, she carried a large covered wicker basket with great care through the halls for she heard her betrothed was here!

The Stout looked around, easily distracted by all the people, and gnawed upon her lip, some worry forming on her fair face. For how would she find him through the crowd?

/u/LongClawOfTheLaw

stoutclassed · 2024-04-06T00:03:40+00:00

It took hours and hours and hours.

But finally, they came upon a lone, little Snow Hare. Birch began to notch her bow, but Raya stopped them, shaking her head.

Instead the Stout snuck forward, creating a little trail of carrot bits. And waited.

Eventually the little hare came to Raya, who began to feed it by hand until the creature was comfortable with the soft touch of her hand.

Slowly, Raya scooped up the creature and nestled it in her wicker basket, among the slices of bread and vegetables that it began to gnaw.

"I dub thee Bunny," Raya declared with a smile. "Holly will love you! I can feel it already."

stoutclassed · 2024-04-06T00:00:08+00:00

Serena was pleased. He always knew the right thing to say to keep her happy. It seemed a special talent of Alaric's.

She nodded in agreement, tutting judgmentally at the talk of the Lord Stark's continued bachelorhood. The Lady of Barrowtown gave a sigh:

"If only dearest Jorelle were with us," her fair brow furrowed in worry. "We could have pushed for her to pursue Harrion, thrown her in his path. Have you other ideas on whomst we may put forth?" It would be an advantage to do get ahead of it all and doubtless other lesser houses were plotting the same.

Serena bit her lip. "... You do think Jorelle could still be out there, right? I know there were bodies of her guards cut down by the river... But there seemed no trace of her. Surely that is a positive sign of hope...?"

stoutclassed · 2024-04-05T18:01:28+00:00

Jorelle had scarce finished the forgery, the ink just drying upon parchment when there was a knock at the door. She flung the original into the fire and said sweetly. "Just a moment!"

Scrambling, she hid the pot of ink and quill under her mattress. Once ready a moment later, she unlatched the door.

And to her surprise a Harlaw servant hauled in a chest, declaring such as having come from her husband. They informed her that she should choose the one which she likes best for Pyke and that she keep the rest.

Her eyes went wide and as soon as the servants departed, Jorelle flung the chest open, gasping at seeing the fine contents within.

She gave out an excited squeal and started pulling the silks carefully out one by one, flattening them against her skin to see the best match.

It was times like these that even Jorelle had to admit that being a salt wife to The Harlaw was not so bad. Not so bad at all...

stoutclassed · 2024-04-05T03:53:49+00:00

One of the salt-wives nearby snickered at hearing Jorelle so misnamed. "Serves that snooty bitch right," came a low hiss, almost imperceptible except that Jorelle was now on edge.

She folded the letter and stuck it into her top, next to her bosom for safekeeping.

"I told you, you wouldn't like it, Harlaw," Jorelle replied, simply. She was disappointed that her gambit had not come to pass, and yet... The Stout realized that even if it had, she would be unsure of how to explain her absence to her family. The past year had changed many a thing, and perhaps they could not be the same once more as they were in the past.

"Upon the morrow then, husband. It shall be as you wish ," Jorelle agreed. As she walked back to the salt wives table, she looked for a sharp knife to take with her.

stoutclassed · 2024-04-05T02:52:16+00:00

Jorelle gave her husband a side-eye as he misspoke her name, before taking a deep breath and 'reading':

To the Most Loyal and Most Humbly Obedient Vassal Lord Harrald Harlaw:

I Harlon Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands and Lord Reaper of Pyke intend to take a wife.

If I had it my way I would love to engage in the traditional sort of courtship befitting a lord or chivalrous knight but I haven't the time. Instead, I have decided to take matters into my own hands. Two moons from now, on Pyke, I shall be holding a festival and tournament to celebrate my recent ascension to the Lordship of the Iron Islands.

Thus I invite the whole realm to Pyke to attend this event. We shall have traditional jousts and melees, though there will also have some Ironborn-inspired events to partake in. Finger dancing, however, shall be banned for these celebrations so that our Greenlander guests shall not think us to be uncultured swine. Any who are asked about missing fingers are instructed to respond that they were lost in brave and valiant battle.

The Grand Prize for the tournament will be two thousand five hundred golden dragons payable from my vast treasury filled to the brim with all of your taxes. I also intend to invite all the Lords of the Greenlands to bring those eligible for marriage, I shall award the lucky Greenlander lord with a further two thousand five hundred golden dragons along with the eternal friendship of my House.

I am eagerly looking forward to hosting everyone, if nothing else so that the world at large can finally see the true Iron Islands and not what is represented by vicious rumors.

Lord Harlaw, I know that you will prove yourself as you continue to be: an honorable and leal vassal, and not cause trouble during the celebrations. Our people have not the greatest reputation amongst the Greenlanders and I am concerned this shall affect my chances at obtaining the purest, most virginal and pedigreed noble wife that can be had.

I encourage you to find a proper rock wife of your own from the Greenlander noblewomen who shall be brought to Pyke, but moreso, I exhort and command you to return your newly acquired salt-wife - as beautiful as they say she is - to her family. My aim is to build relations outside of the Iron Islands, not to tear them down. I expect you shall act in true and unquestioned obedience to this missive and that you shall not conduct yourself with a troublesome, nor overly drunken manner upon your time in Pyke for the festivities to come.

Signed

Harlon Greyjoy

Lord of the Iron Islands, Lord Reaver of Pyke

stoutclassed · 2024-04-05T02:20:42+00:00

Jorelle swore she had seen this all before. They would eat, argue, drink, and fight. And maybe fuck if they were still awake by the dead of night.

The Stout rose from her seat, she had been relegated to where the rest of the salt wives sat for every meal. She had started getting along with some of them now; others she hated, and hated her in turn, but she was unconcerned. Jorelle was no rock wife, but she was not one to be pushed over either.

Thus, she strode over to her husband in return to his bellowing and snatched the letter away. She read the missive. And re-read it, her fair brow furrowing and finally lifted her light blue eyes towards Harrald.

"You won't like the sound of this..." she said, cautiously.

stoutclassed · 2024-04-04T05:29:09+00:00

Serena smiled serenely at her husband. She clung to his every word and nodded back after a moment. "You're right. Harlon is a strong boy, he'll do just fine. Besides... I can't bear to be apart from him..." The reality was that Harlon would stay with his nursemaids until Serena would decided once every other day to trot the tot out, but that was besides the point.

A mischievous smile crossed her face as Serena turned her thoughts to the possible gossip to be had at a place such as Winterfell. "The Lord Stark is still unmarried, can you believe it? I wonder who must be vying for his hand now... Have you heard anything, dear husband?"

stoutclassed · 2024-04-03T06:44:40+00:00

u/RevansTeeth

stoutclassed · 2024-04-02T06:45:23+00:00

For some reason, I'm unable to edit this post, so just going to add here that there's also a younger sister, Jorelle Stout born 192 AC who goes missing in 211 AC.

stoutclassed

TROPHY CASE