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THIS BLOG IS NOW AN ARCHIVE! PLEASE FIND ME OVER HERE!
liondaughter-archive reblogged
gachcuid:
Robb had almost been about to tell the girl that they were headed to Riverrun, and that she could be escorted as far as the Crossroads Inn, left to take the High Road to the Vale herself, but sense stopped him. The news had most certainly filtered to the south that he was heading their way, and where else should he go than to his mother’s lands, to support her family in fending off the Lannisters? But still, he would not like to have it confirmed for certain to anyone, all for the sake of offering a passing comment to a girl he had just met. “We head south, you may join us until you feel is best for you to carry on alone. I’ll see to it that you are kept safe on your travels,” he assured her.
With that, he turned to the maester once more. “Once she is warmed up and well enough, find one of the men who can be trusted to have her ride with them,” he instructed, briefly thinking over who would be the sort to look after her well enough but also be courteous and not take advantage of the fact she was not a noblewoman. “Perhaps Rodrik Forrester, or Lord Glover.” He looked at Myrcella once more. “Both good men, and to be trusted,” he told her.
He bid his farewells for now, knowing he really could not afford to linger much longer for the sake of one girl. She would have time to rest yet, until everyone in the front of the march was ready to carry on - for the rear was only just coming to a stop. Hours of marching followed, and when night fell the order was sent through the men to camp down for the night. Only a matter of days of this were left before they’d reach Moat Cailin. What would happen after that was anyone’s guess. As his mind pondered the possibilities, he found himself reminded of the stranger he had placed among his men earlier that day. He wondered if the girl was still among them, or if she had taken fear and left, or worse, had she gathered the information she was sent for and went back to some foe with it. He rose then, and decided to enquire.
Having found his way to the Forresters, it seemed the maester had entrusted Lord Glover with Myrcella after all. Once pointed in their direction, he looked around for a few minutes and eventually found her near a fire around which many tents had been raised, and she cupped a portion of broth in a small wooden bowl, looking a little bewildered and ill at ease.
“My lady,” he said, knowing she was not a noble lady at all, but he felt it would be rude to call her anything else. “I hope my lords have treated you well today. I’m glad to see you eating. Are you feeling better at all?”
it wasn’t becoming easier to accept with time, that much was certain. some moments she blinks and thinks again that she must be dreaming, she must be, only for something to remind her that it is all too real. this is not, she thinks, the kind of dream her brain could ever serve up. at least, she thought, robb stark had been true in what he said : the man she had been assigned to ride with was a good man. and while she might not be at ease with him and the others, neither did she feel more than a token’s worth of fear.
but she is glad for the stop, when it comes : when fires and tents are set up, and she has a moment’s time to consider everything that’s happened. to try to sort it all through in her mind. not that, when she has that moment, it does much good. there is no explanation of science, history, philosophy, or mathematics that can possibly make sense of this.
she glances up at him, once again wishing she had anything but blonde hair and green eyes, knowing well which family was noted for those features in the days she’s now walking through. wonders, not for the first time, what he must make of her. whether he thinks of her as a threat or just some unfortunate lost thing.
“as well as can be expected,” she says honestly, in answer to his question. he will take it to mean as well as could be expected for a girl who had been half-frozen. she is the only one who will know different. “your lords have been...better than i expected,” she says, opting for the modern boldness that may well serve her well, if she is to play the part of common girl. “i didn’t expect you to check up on me again.”
liondaughter-archive reblogged
Could he make you smile? Can you? I can try.
liondaughter-archive reblogged
gachcuid:
Her answers did little to help Robb’s confusion about the circumstances in which she found herself here. It worried him a little, though he would not admit as much out loud. She was not a northerner, he could tell. Even with the way she spoke, she didn’t have the look of a northerner. And her answers were so very vague. One young woman could not do his cause or his men much harm, but if she was a spy… It would do well to reveal little, or even keep her with them and not her report back to anyone. All such things crossed his mind in a matter of moments.
South and west… It seemed as though she had been coming in the direction from White Harbor, although it was much further than just a day away, so she must have been travelling for some time. His suspicions rose a little more. But he would say nothing. His mind, after all, was perhaps jumping to extreme conclusions.
“And where are you headed?” he asked next. “It’s not safe to be travelling alone in days like these. Mayhaps you would travel with our party, if we are headed in the same direction.”
weren’t women always fainting in these days? she considers it for a moment, a possible route of escape - - - she is not prepared for these questions. how could she be? she’d had neither time or reason to prepare, had been hurtled headfirst backward in time....! she wonders if the worry and the frustration of it shows on her face. she’s certainly trying her best to hide it, and takes another tiny sip of ale to cover her pause.
“i....have family in the vale,” she says, and it’s only partly a lie. she does, in her own time. “some cousins.” rosamund was going to school there, she knows. it’s the truth, just not in the current time. the bow of her head is to hide the fact that her mind is racing, that she’s spinning this story with flyway threads of thought, but she hopes it only makes her look sad, lost and small. helpless, innocent, unknowing. all of the things that might win her safe passage and not imprisonment. (though safe passage where, she wasn’t sure. and could any passage in this time really be called safe at all, particularly for a young woman?)
when she turns wide green eyes up at him, the fear in them is a true emotion, one she choses to let him see. it can only help her, after all : that fear, that uncertainty. “i have no other family here....my lord. and little other choice but to travel on my own.” her eyes are steady, even if there is fear in them. “...but if you can promise me some measure of safety here among your men, perhaps it would be better not to travel on my own. at least, not all the way.”
liondaughter-archive reblogged
❝ no, i’m not! ❞ but she can hardly hide her grin. she’s TERRIBLE at keeping secrets when she’s this excited about something. ❝ it’s not aboutme. it’s…. look you can’t let on that you know. ❞ she leans in close so only cella will hear. ❝ robb asked me what your favorite flowers were and if plain chocolates or chocolate covered strawberries would make a better gift. ❞
it is a point of pride, with myrcella, that she is not very easily surprised. but the blink of her eyes shows her pleasant surprise at this. “i promise not to tell,” she says with a giggle, tugging playfully at a lock of sansa’s hair as she leans in to tell her secret. and though she can feel a flush of warmth upon her face at the secret her friend imparts, she does try to pretend she isn’t quite as happily surprised as she is. “....and what did you tell him?”
yes
i know
i have to write drafts
i have to write starters
am i doing either of those things RIGHT NOW?
sure am not
liondaughter-archive reblogged
LUCREZIA BORGIA + pink ✩ “pink means sweet, nice, playful, cute, romantic, charming, feminine, and tenderness; associated with bubble gum, flowers, babies, little girls, cotton candy, and sweetness; is the color of universal love of oneself and of others — pink also represents friendship, affection, harmony, inner peace, and approachability.”
Source: borgialucrezia
liondaughter-archive reblogged
lady-vogue-deactivated20230306
liondaughter-archive reblogged
nobodys-archive-deactivated2023
i think in the wake of game of thrones season 8 being so mindbogglingly horrible, people tend to forget how stupid seasons 5-7 were as well. my favorite moment in the show still remains when cersei blew up the most revered religious building in the country with the most popular royals inside and it had zero - and i mean literally zero - consequence. not even a mildly negative reaction from the people of kingslanding. imagine if the president of italy blew up the vatican with the pope and the kardashians inside and no one batted an eye.
pefensea:
edmund snorts. “ no, although it would be just my luck that i’ve been coming here for years, and only now they would turn up. ” considering what he has used this hideaway for in the past, he’s disinclined to immediately explain its history to her. instead, edmund scoops myrcella into his arms, bridal style, and carries her the rest of the way into the shack ( it is cold, after all ). inside, is a large mattress that takes up majority of the space covered in an appropriate holiday-colored bedspread and countless pillows. a tray sits on the bed with sparkling juice ( to replace the alcohol that edmund can’t have ) and little desserts ( he owes peter and lucy for months ). he places her on the bed and then joins her, kicking off his shoes, and grins, laying back. “ happy valentine’s day.”
myrcella gives a very half-hearted squeak of protest as he whisks her up into his arms, though the way she settles against him so easily, so comfortably, rather negates the noise. it isn’t the valentine’s day she had expected, perhaps, but it’s better than anything she could have expected. and how he had managed to pull it all off without ever sparking her suspicion was well beyond her own reckoning. a giggle escapes her lips as he deposits her upon the bed before laying back beside her. she follows suit, stretching with a very luxuriously cat-like manner before lazily slipping her own shoes off to let them fall one by one to the ground. her coat she leaves on for the moment, too much absorbed in rolling over onto her side to drape her arm across her stomach and kiss his cheek to think of it. “happy valentine’s day,” she echoes. “this really is amazing, edmund. thank you.”
pefensea:
“ oh i know, ” he responds as he gently places the scarf over her eyes. “ and i promise i am reveling in your loving trust. ” edmund kisses the back of her head, before taking her hand to lead her further on. he walks slowly to ensure that she does not trip over any loose pebbles along the path despite his impatience. it is not a long journey, and soon he is pausing. “ okay. wait here, and don’t remove the blindfold. i’ll just be right over here. ” edmund dashes forward to remove the tarp he threw over everything to ensure it wasn’t touched; he hides it behind a tree. after straightening a few stray petals, and lighting the candles, he approaches myrcella again: “okay ! ” he goes behind her and moves her a few steps so she was in just the right position. before them is a small, abandoned shack that edmund decorated with heart shaped string lights, tall candles, and a rose petal path that leads to the front door, which stood slightly ajar, just enough for the light from the inside to peek out ( inside will be more candles, a plush bed set up, with a dinner laid out on a nice tray on the bed ). “ one…two…three ! ” he removes the scarf before immediately wrapping his arms around myrcella’s middle: “ happy valentine’s day. ”
“mmhm, you had better.” she says, but protests no further as he ties the scarf over her eyes, even giggles at the kiss to the back of her head. she hadn’t been exaggerating, when she’d said there were few she would trust to do something like this. but edmund....she had put her trust in him long ago. so she takes his hand and follows on until he stops her, stands there waiting without so much as touching the blindfold, despite her anticipation, her confusion as to what this could possibly be. he removes the blindfold and she laughs, a delighted smile taking her face as her eyes flit from one thing to another: the rose petal path, the string lights. it feels, for a moment, as though she has been dropped into a different world entirely. “edmund...this is beautiful...” her lips twitch and she has to bite short another giggle. her hands land over his as she leans back against his chest, and she looks up at him with a playful gleam beneath the softness in her eyes. still smiling, she leans up to kiss his jaw, lifting one hand to touch the opposite cheek. “i do have to ask though,” she murmurs, nuzzling against his jaw. “we won’t be encountering any ahh-....disgruntled shack owners, will we?”
pefensea:
he laughs. “ who me? i would never ! ” but his grin is much too full of mischief for any part of that to be believable. his expression sobers, however, looking as if he’s deliberating telling her, and he reaches forward to cup her face, leaning forward: “… now when have i ever given up the opportunity to relentlessly tease you ? ” he kisses her forehead with a laugh before leading her further along. once they reach a certain path, edmund pauses and takes a red silk scarf out of his pocket, grandly flourishing it. “ from this point on, i humbly request that you be blind-folded. ” he holds the scarf out in front of him, waiting for her agreement.
“oh, never.” she echoes, though with several layers of disbelief hidden beneath her little laugh. eyes flutter closed for a moment as his lips press to her forehead, not bothering even to feign disappointment at her failure to wheedle the truth from him. she walks along beside him without complaint, holding on to his arm as they continue their walk, letting go only at the flourish of the scarf. eyebrows lift, and she glances between him and the scarf with a look of amusement. “a blindfold? really?” but she relents - - - how could she not? though it’s with an exaggerated sigh, one that’s betrayed by the fact that she’s still smiling. “fine,” she says. “i submit to your humble request.” obligingly, she turns, closes her eyes. though, a moment later, she opens one to look at him. “you’re very lucky i trust you. i don’t let just anybody blindfold me.”
VALENTINE’S DAY STARTER FOR: @pefensea
"you’re up to something,” she says, trying (and failing) to look suspicious. “i can tell.” she tugs him to a stop with a little laugh, reaching up to wind her arms around his neck. “are you going to tell me what you’re up to, or are you going to insist it’s a surprise?”
VALENTINE’S DAY STARTER FOR: @wulfheir
“i sent you a valentine years ago,” she admits, studiously avoiding his gaze even as she glances over at him, the smallest smile playing on her face. she’s not embarrassed, not exactly, but there’s a sense of uncertainty - - - toward whether she should have said anything at all. “you probably don’t remember it. i signed it “from your secret admirer” and everything.” she giggles, pausing to seal the envelope of sansa’s card. “i suppose it was probably at least a little bit creepy, now that i think about it.”