Two more days to a year that I'm not supposed to be counting. The little Tom Hanks in my soul is marking days without you. Castaway on an island surrounded by an ocean of tears getting deeper daily.
6 yrs ago
Want a Slice of Life? Sol City is your ticket! Large, friendly group always room for more! roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
3
likes
7 yrs ago
November 10th, 2017 4:30 pm CST. You let go and I wasn't ready. I'm still not ready. I miss you.
2
likes
7 yrs ago
Two months and a week. I miss you. This sucks. Is it bad that I pretend that you PCS'd and will be back before long? Then I remember you're gone and won't be back even if I wished it. And I do. Daily.
7 yrs ago
Two months, four days. I miss you. Can't listen to Mike and the Mechanics "In The Living Years" anymore. It came on at work yesterday as the last song and I cried.
Bio
Ugh...I hate this part. So I'm super into Sailor Moon...which no one else is...and that's okay. I also really love Items, Escaflowne, Vampire Knight, Fushigi Yugi, Ah My Goddess, K Dramas, Chinese and Tiwanise Dramas as well. I torture people by making them read the TV.
Oh this is where I tell you I'm American...and I just lost a few people but oh well. Trust me if I could afford to live overseas I would. So yeah...that's me.
Description: The Noble and Puissant Order of the Warrior's Sons is an order of Westerosi knights sworn to the Faith of the Seven. They are part of the Faith Militant, and are also known as the Swords. Their counterparts are the "Stars", also called the Poor Fellows. The Warrior's Sons obey and answer to the High Septon, as they believe the High Septon speaks for the Seven.
Name: Ayden Darklyn Age: 30 Born 11 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Ayden “Denny” Darklyn the most rounded of all the children and is the most passionate about cleansing of the Iron Throne. He is the dangerous kind of warrior, an educated and intelligent one. He doesn’t have a speciality when it comes to fighting. He has the ability to use most any weapon with no preference. His greatest talent lies in his mind. He is cunning and will do what it takes to win. He knows the flaws of his brothers in faith and where their strengths lie. While he pushes them to their perceived limits he would always be there to help when needed. He truly loves his brothers in faith and is very close with all of them.
Name: Olyver Blackwood Age: 30 Born 11 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Olyver “Oly” Blackwood is a warrior to the core. He specializes in working with just a shield, unarmed and with a whip. He is the quiet one of the group but just because he is almost always silent doesn’t mean that he can’t talk or is unintelligent, though he lets people make their assumptions. Like all the other brothers he has scars and has nearly died a few times.
Name: Dyclan Grey Age: 27 Born 14 AC House/Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Dyclan “Lan” Grey has always been a man of action. He and Rhys take after their father more in looks than the twins. His instincts are honed to a fine edge and he is especially good with spears and javelins paired with or without shields. He is brutal when it comes to anyone deemed an enemy seeing the world in black and white. He loves his brothers to a fault and would die to keep them safe. He is extremely faithful.
Name: Rhysander Bushy Age: 24 Born 17 AC House/Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Rhysander “Rhys” Bushyis more of a thinker and liked to plan out and design really well anything. He has designed weapons as well as buildings and furniture. He’s done less fighting than his brothers but he did design their weapons. Like all his brothers he loves his faith and likes to make things for them. He is very skilled in carpentry, blacksmithing, tinsmithing, leather working and glasswork. He stayed in Braavos more than his older brothers.
Name: Kaylib Roxton Age: 22 Born 19 AC House/Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Kaylib “Kay” Roxton is a little hotheaded Water Dancer. His arrogance extends to women as well and he has had a good share of lovers. Thankfully he is not stupid enough to have deflowered the wrong noble’s daughter. He likes to stick to the courtesans and widows so as not to get tied down. His youth and ability make him very proud. He struts around like a Summer Island bird that squawks and imitates its owners. He could be the First Sword but he doesn’t have the dedication to any but his brothers. He is especially protective of his faith which he does not see his actions are against it.
Name: Paris Sloane Age: 23 18 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Paris Sloane is a Reach native who is quick to smile and joke. He has been with the Warrior Sons for months. His speciality is spears and javelins.
Name: Mylo Graves Age: 33 Born 8 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Mylo Graves is a Reach man that specializes in dual wielding daggers.
Name: Sabriel Errol Age: 42 Born 1 BC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Sabriel Errol is a Stormlander his speciality is the great sword.
Name: Gabryle Crane Age: 20 Born 21 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Gabryle Crane is from the Reach and his specialty is longsword and shield.
Name: Icarus Pyke Age: 35 Born 6 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Icarus Pyke is a former Iron Islander that didn’t take to the Drowned God. He decided at the age of twelve to jump ship, ending up in Essos after a few months. He joined the Warrior Sons when they started. He specializes in hand axes.
Name: Pyter Cargyll Age: 25 Born 16 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Pyter Cargyll is from the Crownlands. He decided at the age of twenty to adventure, ending up in Essos after a few months. He joined the Warrior Sons when they started. He specializes in water dancing.
Dragonstone. With no Rhaena or Aegon. It is not fair. Princess Melyssanthi pouted in the garden. She sat amidst beautiful growing things and pouted.
Samantha and Alayne went with her and I am stuck here with the littles and Aunt Vinegar. Ugh I despise that woman. I wish her dragon would eat her! Melyssanthi looked around to make sure that her Aunt was not near her, convinced that even the thought was enough to summon the woman.
Relaxing when she did not see her Aunt she stood and felt a weight on her chest. Looking around cautiously, Melyssanthi turned her head and listened. Something is not right. Rising from sitting Melyssanthi made her way from the garden to mope to her older sister's room. It will not be her room once she gets back. Or not just her room. Will things be different? Will they still want me hanging around? Or will I be in the way? Melyssanthi walked slowly toward the Stone Drum, planning to flop in the center of Rhaena's bed. She sighed and wrapped her sleeves around her hands.
“I should return to King’s Landing tonight, love.” Aenys brought his cheek down against the top of Alyssa’s head to a soft murmur of annoyed agreement. “I fear that Melyssanthi is too beside herself, perhaps we should have let her go with-”
Alyssa pulled herself out from beneath her husband’s embrace. “No, you cannot give her permission to fly out to meet them. We have spoiled them long enough, they must each fulfill their own responsibilities now.” She chided her husband, her king, but it was with an ease that spoke of the mutual love and respect they held for one another. Besides, given the choice she too would have her way and command him to stay with her rather than return to his own duties in the capitol.
"You are a cruel mother, as I’m sure she will remind you of frequently.” Aenys returned with a laugh as he rolled over and stretched for the glass of wine beside the bed. The bottle had been a gift from his aunt. He frowned as he swallowed the last dredges of the glass. It was not a good wine, an opinion he would not share with the woman. “I should go find her, gather the rest of the children to see me off?” The girl had been beside herself, perhaps he could ease the pain a little before leaving.
Aenys wandered the halls that lead to the children’s suites. He sang out Melyssanthi’s name in a strong, sweet voice. “Melyssanthi, sweet dragon of mine…” He stumbled and paused, his voice echoed against the walls. Perhaps he had had more wine than he should have. He pressed a hand to his forehead and lightly shook his head. Foolish man, Alyssa will have words if you try flying off like this.
He turned a corner and saw his daughter, heading not for her room but Rhaena’s. Ah, poor child. I should send her off on Fyresong, I’ll be forgiven eventually. "There you are! Come, fly with me before I return to King’s Landing, I hate to leave seeing you with such unhappiness on your face.”
Hearing her name sung by the sweet tenor of her father King Aenys the Princess grinned her heart swelling with love. "Papa!" Turning to him with a warm, loving smile she embraced him with the enthusiasm she'd always expressed to her family. No matter how upset with them Melyssanthi was she always let them know she loved them, hence why she was so crushed when she'd been told she would not accompany her siblings on their tour.
Pulling back to see her father’s face after her unabashed display of affection Melyssanthi pouted. "Papa, you cannot make up for not letting me go by letting me win one race." She looked him in the eyes scowling with a twinkle in her eyes. "However, it will go a way to soften me up, but Silverwing will not appreciate it."
Aenys smiled down at his daughter, he had wrapped his arm about her to return the embrace. How lucky he was, the gods - whichever ones - had truly blessed him. Even if they tested him with Maegor’s folly and the Faith’s intractableness. His eyes shone bright, even as his wife’s words prickled in his mind. Melyssanthi would need to do her duty for their family soon enough as well. He and Alyssa had been wed with Rhaena already born by the time they were her age. Perhaps in the next year he would arrange a good match, a happy marriage to one of the sons of the great houses. She would love the Reach surely, or perhaps they would strengthen the bond with their cousins in the Stormlands.
Now, though, was not the time for that discussion. "Silverwing will show me her displeasure when I am halfway across the Bay, certainly. But that is for me to worry about.” He left his arm around her shoulder as he turned to guide them out of the Stone Drum. “A race around the island it is.”
Aenys led them out at a leisurely pace though it was not entirely just to enjoy time with his daughter. He had begun to sweat lightly, he felt off in a way he couldn't quite place. The king tried to ignore it, he had often been sickly growing up and memories of it triggered a panic from time to time. Surely that's all this was, mixed with discontent at having to leave his family. "We should be careful though. One of the men saw that wild dragon take flight again. He'll be a mighty one, perhaps even to rival Vhagar." He smiled, knowing how his children felt about his aunt's mount. "Perhaps when Aegon returns, he will manage to bond with him." It would be an especially good omen, if Aegon were to tame the wild one.
"Papa, you would never let Silverwing do such a thing." Melyssanthi slowed their pace even more when she noticed how pale her father was and that he'd begun to sweat. "Papa? Is something wrong?" She ignored the comment about Aegon being without a dragon. Others in her family, cousins on mothers side, did not have dragons. Her brother's lack of one did not mean he was weak, just different.
Her voice pitched low so that others could not hear, she turned in her father's embrace. Melyssanthi cast a worried eye over him. He really does not look well.A sense of dread fell over her as she felt that sense of something that was not right. Instead of hearing what was around her; her ears were full of a rushing sound that roared upon her. Then a mob so loud all shouting over another. Sounds of fighting then a soft murmur of anguish in her sister's voice as she said her brother's name. The sharp caw caw of a raven, far too loud, snapped her hearing back to where she was presently. "Papa…something is not right. Something is wrong. I am afraid."
Aenys stopped, his other arm raised and pressed to his chest at a sudden, piercing pain. In the haze of it, he attempted to look down and comfort his daughter that all was well, but he faltered before being able to utter a single reassuring syllable. He dropped, one knee catching him on the floor, but most of his weight now supported by the arm around his daughter. His pale lilac eyes widened with untempered fear. He sucked in a breath but felt no air.
He saw the look on her face, a fear mirroring his own. A groan of anguish passed his lips as his vision blurred and was filled with blackness. He slumped, his body falling away from Melyssanthi. A fleeting thought fluttered through his mind, a plea to the gods. Not yet.
Melyssanthi saw the look of pain that carved her father’s visage into something that terrified her. He twitched and his lips opened as he suddenly went slack, his weight nearly toppling them both. Melyssanthi could not hold him up but he did not have to crash to the floor. She knelt with him as he went down.
Tears coursed down Melyssanthi’s face with a shared fear. He groaned heartbreakingly and she began to sob. "NO!!! PAPA!!" She moved to arrest his fall; to hold him in the world with her as he fell to the floor slipping out of her hands like water.
Everything seemed to move like the last drop of honey on a spoon in winter. Melyssanthi watched as her father fell to the floor and she let out an anguished scream. The scream sounded like that of a mortality wounded dragon, those that heard it said it raised chill bumps and brought tears pouring forth. It was followed by the heart wrenching sobs of a daughter that very clearly loved her father. Echoing cries rose from where the dragons resided when on Dragonstone as if they too heard Melyssanthi’s heartbreak.
Sobbing Melyssanthi clutched at her father’s tunic, the only word between sobs was father in different languages falling into Valyrian and staying there until guards came around the corner. They froze weapons out only to put them away. Ser Raymont of the Kingsguard reached down for the girl. Sobbing Melyssanthi held on tighter to her father. As fast as a dragon she turned her tear stained face to the Kingsguard and the excruciatingly raw sorrow evident on her face as she screamed. "Renigon issa daor! Touch me not!"
Description: The Noble and Puissant Order of the Warrior's Sons is an order of Westerosi knights sworn to the Faith of the Seven. They are part of the Faith Militant, and are also known as the Swords. Their counterparts are the "Stars", also called the Poor Fellows. The Warrior's Sons obey and answer to the High Septon, as they believe the High Septon speaks for the Seven.
Name: Ayden Darklyn Age: 30 Born 11 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Ayden “Denny” Darklyn the most rounded of all the children and is the most passionate about cleansing of the Iron Throne. He is the dangerous kind of warrior, an educated and intelligent one. He doesn’t have a speciality when it comes to fighting. He has the ability to use most any weapon with no preference. His greatest talent lies in his mind. He is cunning and will do what it takes to win. He knows the flaws of his brothers in faith and where their strengths lie. While he pushes them to their perceived limits he would always be there to help when needed. He truly loves his brothers in faith and is very close with all of them.
Name: Olyver Blackwood Age: 30 Born 11 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Olyver “Oly” Blackwood is a warrior to the core. He specializes in working with just a shield, unarmed and with a whip. He is the quiet one of the group but just because he is almost always silent doesn’t mean that he can’t talk or is unintelligent, though he lets people make their assumptions. Like all the other brothers he has scars and has nearly died a few times.
Name: Dyclan Grey Age: 27 Born 14 AC House/Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Dyclan “Lan” Grey has always been a man of action. He and Rhys take after their father more in looks than the twins. His instincts are honed to a fine edge and he is especially good with spears and javelins paired with or without shields. He is brutal when it comes to anyone deemed an enemy seeing the world in black and white. He loves his brothers to a fault and would die to keep them safe. He is extremely faithful.
Name: Rhysander Bushy Age: 24 Born 17 AC House/Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Rhysander “Rhys” Bushyis more of a thinker and liked to plan out and design really well anything. He has designed weapons as well as buildings and furniture. He’s done less fighting than his brothers but he did design their weapons. Like all his brothers he loves his faith and likes to make things for them. He is very skilled in carpentry, blacksmithing, tinsmithing, leather working and glasswork. He stayed in Braavos more than his older brothers.
Name: Kaylib Roxton Age: 22 Born 19 AC House/Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Kaylib “Kay” Roxton is a little hotheaded Water Dancer. His arrogance extends to women as well and he has had a good share of lovers. Thankfully he is not stupid enough to have deflowered the wrong noble’s daughter. He likes to stick to the courtesans and widows so as not to get tied down. His youth and ability make him very proud. He struts around like a Summer Island bird that squawks and imitates its owners. He could be the First Sword but he doesn’t have the dedication to any but his brothers. He is especially protective of his faith which he does not see his actions are against it.
Name: Paris Sloane Age: 23 18 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Paris Sloane is a Reach native who is quick to smile and joke. He has been with the Warrior Sons for months. His speciality is spears and javelins.
Name: Mylo Graves Age: 33 Born 8 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Mylo Graves is a Reach man that specializes in dual wielding daggers.
Name: Sabriel Errol Age: 42 Born 1 BC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Sabriel Errol is a Stormlander his speciality is the great sword.
Name: Gabryle Crane Age: 20 Born 21 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Gabryle Crane is from the Reach and his specialty is longsword and shield.
Name: Icarus Pyke Age: 35 Born 6 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Icarus Pyke is a former Iron Islander that didn’t take to the Drowned God. He decided at the age of twelve to jump ship, ending up in Essos after a few months. He joined the Warrior Sons when they started. He specializes in hand axes.
Name: Pyter Cargyll Age: 25 Born 16 AC Affiliation: Warrior Sons Description & Biography: Pyter Cargyll is from the Crownlands. He decided at the age of twenty to adventure, ending up in Essos after a few months. He joined the Warrior Sons when they started. He specializes in water dancing.
Although the uprising began during the reign of King Aenys I Targaryen, the first seeds were already planted during the reign of his father, King Aegon I Targaryen. Before the birth of Aenys's children, his younger half-brother Maegor was regarded as his heir. However, Aenys was wed in 22 AC, and his first child, Princess Rhaena, was born the next year. Her birth sparked the discussion of the line of succession, as it was unclear whether Maegor remained second in the line of succession or whether he fell behind the newborn Rhaena. In 24 AC, shortly after Maegor turned twelve, his mother Queen Visenya Targaryen proposed a betrothal between Rhaena and Maegor to settle the issue of the royal succession. However, both Prince Aenys and his wife and the High Septon protested. The High Septon suggested his own niece, Lady Ceryse Hightower, as a bride for the young prince instead. Maegor and Ceryse were subsequently wed in 25 AC at the Starry Sept in Oldtown, in a ceremony officiated by the High Septon himself.
Maegor's second marriage angered many. Ceryse's father, Lord Martyn Hightower, protested the marriage to King Aenys and demanded that Maegor set Alys aside. The High Septon denounced the marriage as sin and fornication and called Alys "this whore of Harroway." Many of the pious lords in the realm similarly condemned the marriage, and openly began to call Alys "Maegor's Whore". Maegor remained defiant, however, citing that his father had taken two wives as well, claiming that the strictures of the Faith did not rule the blood of the dragon.
Maegor quarreled bitterly with his brother over the marriage, as the king had neither known of the marriage prior to the ceremony, nor given his leave for it. Eventually, Aenys made Maegor choose between setting Alys aside or going into exile for five years. Maegor chose the latter, and left for Pentos in 40 AC. The High Septon was not yet satisfied, however, so Aenys appointed Septon Murmison as his new Hand of the King, but even he could not heal the rift between the Iron Throne and the Faith.
The situation worsened in 41 AC, when Aenys wed his daughter Rhaena and son Aegon to one another. The High Septon sent Aenys a denunciation, addressing him as "King Abomination". The uprising was about to begin, and even the pious lords and smallfolk, who had loved Aenys, turned against the king.
Appearance: Melyssanthi is tall and athletic due to her love for the outdoors. Her hair is a fine white blonde with silver threaded through and she has intense violet eyes. Her eyebrows are a few shades darker than her white blonde hair. Her hair extends to her knees and is fine in texture. She favors the colors gold and red but will dress in any color.
Description & biography: Melyssanthi is always smiling. She has several different smiles and her face is very expressive. She has no trouble hiding her emotions except from her immediate family. Rhaena is particularly good at reading her since Melyssanthi has always looked up to her. She loves her family dearly but her Uncle and Great Aunt after making Rhaena cry after announcing that Rhaena would wed Maegor her heart hardened to them.
Melyssanthi is a bright and beautiful young woman who is headstrong and opinionated but respectful to those she deems worthy of respect. She was very much her sister's advocate while Rhaena was younger until Dreamfyre boosted her confidence. Melyssanthi is fascinated with the outdoors and was happiest outside. She learned to swim and fish right in the Ocean.
She is fascinated with language and singing which she excelled at both. Her voice is a clear bright soprano and she is able to easily hit whistle tones. She can mimic several animals uncannily and only has to hear something once to mimic it. She struggles with lower tones just because her voice can not go that low.
If there was a child that was willful and headstrong it was Melyssanthi. She knew what she wanted and pursued it until she got it. However in no way was she spoiled. She accepted when she was wrong at an early age. Her hobbies were much like her father’s astrology, astronomy, riding both dragons and horses as well as sailing. She was well educated and possesed a mind thirsting for knowledge. Most days one could find her with a book outside reading with her dragon Fyresong.
Fyresong is a red and gold dragon with blue eyes that burn with intelligence. He is not as big as some dragons but is comparable to Silverwing in size. He is extremely fast and maneuverable with stamina. His fire sounded like a song to the five year old Melyssanthi so she named the little hatchling Fyresong.
Not much has hindered Melyssanthi from getting what she wanted. She makes friends easily and she is incredibly intelligent.
However if pressed she does recount her Grandfather's death as well as when she and her sister, Rhaena, were young the announcement that their mother finally broke to them of the betrothal between Rhaena and Maegor. Rhaena was practically inconsolable and it took all night for Melys, as her siblings called her, and Aegon to soothe her. Thankfully the betrothal was dropped.
Melyssanthi can recall the tragic death of her youngest sister Vaella in 39 AC when she was fifteen. She could tell that her mother was heartbroken and a shadow seemed to hang over her for a while.
Appearance: The Flame of Lys is always seen in expensive silks of varying colors. Her clothes adorn a beautifully curvaceous form accentuating it to astounding advantage. She always has a kind smile for those who grace her establishment. Her silvery gray eyes are large and titled like a cat's eyes. Her mouth is full and the perfect cupid’s bow.
Description & biography: The Flame of Lys was a Lyseni pleasure slave named Leandra who was sold to pay for her father’s debts. She was ten at the time. It became profitable to sell flesh to greedy Westerosi merchants and thus Leandra’s fate was sealed. Sold off to a merchant of flesh that took one look at her and knew what a prize she had. Leandra realized quickly that while yes she was still very much property she did not have to remain so. The merchant was an older woman who’s looks were not aging well. She informed Leandra that if she worked hard she could change her fate. Perhaps the Gods had taken pity on her and sent her to a greater destiny?
That hope was soon dashed as they arrived in a city that was no more than a wood and earthen fort. Leandra recalled someone saying once to her that one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. She was quickly put to work in a brothel where she served as a maid until she filled out. She was shown the craft that the other women practiced. She became quite accomplished at her craft at the tender age of sixteen she had many panting at her heels, none of them to marry her.
Fame, or infamy, was a draw that led to more money being spent at Sheath and Dagger which led to poaching the better… entertainment and more coins. As Leandra’s nineteenth year came, the old merchant woman Phylippa became ill. Over the years Leandra became attached to Phylippa, after all she had changed Leandra’s life. Leandra had the ability to learn to read, write, summations, herbal medicine, needlework, dancing, singing, languages, history just to name a few.
Leandra proceeded to care for Phylippa and consequently began to take over the business. Quickly they both learned that Leandra had a head for business and the Sheath and Dagger prospered even more. Taking opportunities given, Leandra began to invest in other businesses that surrounded them. Seamstresses, tailors, blacksmiths, even jewelers. It has grown to further her reach, extending beyond her immediate community. She quickly found that information was an even better commodity to trade in.
As Leandra cared for the now dying Phylippa it was revealed who was a silent owner of the Sheath and Dagger. Leandra was pleasantly surprised and began her campaign of getting her employer's attention in a subtle way. With coin came connections. Small folk could be counted on to carry messages, but the one going by Raven would be quicker and having one of the rookery boys by the bollocks didn't hurt. Leandra had found her way into many places with little favors she promised men and women. Whether it was her, the business or another of the girls those promises were kept; though she examined the deals she made to make sure they were at least evenly balanced or tipped in her favor and none of the girls were ever forced into anything. Not using force went a long way to increasing the reputation of the business but her own as well.
Once communication with her employer was opened Leandra sent them qualifications to take over for Phylippa including a recommendation and the increase in profits while she'd been running the business. Unfortunately Phylippa passed away soon after that. Leandra has been thriving since then and rarely takes on a client unless it is an important one.
Appearance: The Flame of Lys is always seen in expensive silks of varying colors. Her clothes adorn a beautifully curvaceous form accentuating it to astounding advantage. She always has a kind smile for those who grace her establishment. Her silvery gray eyes are large and titled like a cat's eyes. Her mouth is full and the perfect cupid’s bow.
Description & biography: The Flame of Lys was a Lyseni pleasure slave named Leandra who was sold to pay for her father’s debts. She was ten at the time. It became profitable to sell flesh to greedy Westerosi merchants and thus Leandra’s fate was sealed. Sold off to a merchant of flesh that took one look at her and knew what a prize she had. Leandra realized quickly that while yes she was still very much property she did not have to remain so. The merchant was an older woman who’s looks were not aging well. She informed Leandra that if she worked hard she could change her fate. Perhaps the Gods had taken pity on her and sent her to a greater destiny?
That hope was soon dashed as they arrived in a city that was no more than a wood and earthen fort. Leandra recalled someone saying once to her that one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. She was quickly put to work in a brothel where she served as a maid until she filled out. She was shown the craft that the other women practiced. She became quite accomplished at her craft at the tender age of sixteen she had many panting at her heels, none of them to marry her.
Fame, or infamy, was a draw that led to more money being spent at Sheath and Dagger which led to poaching the better… entertainment and more coins. As Leandra’s nineteenth year came, the old merchant woman Phylippa became ill. Over the years Leandra became attached to Phylippa, after all she had changed Leandra’s life. Leandra had the ability to learn to read, write, summations, herbal medicine, needlework, dancing, singing, languages, history just to name a few.
Leandra proceeded to care for Phylippa and consequently began to take over the business. Quickly they both learned that Leandra had a head for business and the Sheath and Dagger prospered even more. Taking opportunities given, Leandra began to invest in other businesses that surrounded them. Seamstresses, tailors, blacksmiths, even jewelers. It has grown to further her reach, extending beyond her immediate community. She quickly found that information was an even better commodity to trade in.
As Leandra cared for the now dying Phylippa it was revealed who was a silent owner of the Sheath and Dagger. Leandra was pleasantly surprised and began her campaign of getting her employer's attention in a subtle way. With coin came connections. Small folk could be counted on to carry messages, but the one going by Raven would be quicker and having one of the rookery boys by the bollocks didn't hurt. Leandra had found her way into many places with little favors she promised men and women. Whether it was her, the business or another of the girls those promises were kept; though she examined the deals she made to make sure they were at least evenly balanced or tipped in her favor and none of the girls were ever forced into anything. Not using force went a long way to increasing the reputation of the business but her own as well.
Once communication with her employer was opened Leandra sent them qualifications to take over for Phylippa including a recommendation and the increase in profits while she'd been running the business. Unfortunately Phylippa passed away soon after that. Leandra has been thriving since then and rarely takes on a client unless it is an important one.
Although the uprising began during the reign of King Aenys I Targaryen, the first seeds were already planted during the reign of his father, King Aegon I Targaryen. Before the birth of Aenys's children, his younger half-brother Maegor was regarded as his heir. However, Aenys was wed in 22 AC, and his first child, Princess Rhaena, was born the next year. Her birth sparked the discussion of the line of succession, as it was unclear whether Maegor remained second in the line of succession or whether he fell behind the newborn Rhaena. In 24 AC, shortly after Maegor turned twelve, his mother Queen Visenya Targaryen proposed a betrothal between Rhaena and Maegor to settle the issue of the royal succession. However, both Prince Aenys and his wife and the High Septon protested. The High Septon suggested his own niece, Lady Ceryse Hightower, as a bride for the young prince instead. Maegor and Ceryse were subsequently wed in 25 AC at the Starry Sept in Oldtown, in a ceremony officiated by the High Septon himself.
Maegor's second marriage angered many. Ceryse's father, Lord Martyn Hightower, protested the marriage to King Aenys and demanded that Maegor set Alys aside. The High Septon denounced the marriage as sin and fornication and called Alys "this whore of Harroway." Many of the pious lords in the realm similarly condemned the marriage, and openly began to call Alys "Maegor's Whore". Maegor remained defiant, however, citing that his father had taken two wives as well, claiming that the strictures of the Faith did not rule the blood of the dragon.
Maegor quarreled bitterly with his brother over the marriage, as the king had neither known of the marriage prior to the ceremony, nor given his leave for it. Eventually, Aenys made Maegor choose between setting Alys aside or going into exile for five years. Maegor chose the latter, and left for Pentos in 40 AC. The High Septon was not yet satisfied, however, so Aenys appointed Septon Murmison as his new Hand of the King, but even he could not heal the rift between the Iron Throne and the Faith.
The situation worsened in 41 AC, when Aenys wed his daughter Rhaena and son Aegon to one another. The High Septon sent Aenys a denunciation, addressing him as "King Abomination". The uprising was about to begin, and even the pious lords and smallfolk, who had loved Aenys, turned against the king.
Appearance: Melyssanthi is tall and athletic due to her love for the outdoors. Her hair is a fine white blonde with silver threaded through and she has intense violet eyes. Her eyebrows are a few shades darker than her white blonde hair. Her hair extends to her knees and is fine in texture. She favors the colors gold and red but will dress in any color.
Description & biography: Melyssanthi is always smiling. She has several different smiles and her face is very expressive. She has no trouble hiding her emotions except from her immediate family. Rhaena is particularly good at reading her since Melyssanthi has always looked up to her. She loves her family dearly but her Uncle and Great Aunt after making Rhaena cry after announcing that Rhaena would wed Maegor her heart hardened to them.
Melyssanthi is a bright and beautiful young woman who is headstrong and opinionated but respectful to those she deems worthy of respect. She was very much her sister's advocate while Rhaena was younger until Dreamfyre boosted her confidence. Melyssanthi is fascinated with the outdoors and was happiest outside. She learned to swim and fish right in the Ocean.
She is fascinated with language and singing which she excelled at both. Her voice is a clear bright soprano and she is able to easily hit whistle tones. She can mimic several animals uncannily and only has to hear something once to mimic it. She struggles with lower tones just because her voice can not go that low.
If there was a child that was willful and headstrong it was Melyssanthi. She knew what she wanted and pursued it until she got it. However in no way was she spoiled. She accepted when she was wrong at an early age. Her hobbies were much like her father’s astrology, astronomy, riding both dragons and horses as well as sailing. She was well educated and possesed a mind thirsting for knowledge. Most days one could find her with a book outside reading with her dragon Fyrestar.
Fyrestar is a red and gold dragon with blue eyes that burn with intelligence. He is not as big as some dragons but is comparable to Silverwing in size. He is extremely fast and maneuverable with stamina. His fire sounded like a song to the five year old Melyssanthi so she named the little hatchling Fyresong.
Not much has hindered Melyssanthi from getting what she wanted. She makes friends easily and she is incredibly intelligent.
However if pressed she does recount her Grandfather's death as well as when she and her sister, Rhaena, were young the announcement that their mother finally broke to them of the betrothal between Rhaena and Maegor. Rhaena was practically inconsolable and it took all night for Melys, as her siblings called her, and Aegon to soothe her. Thankfully the betrothal was dropped.
Melyssanthi can recall the tragic death of her youngest sister Vaella in 39 AC when she was fifteen. She could tell that her mother was heartbroken and a shadow seemed to hang over her for a while.
@CorinTraven@Vanq@Almalthia Still have CSs that need approval just when you get a chance. Mine not so important since my house isn't coming around till after the tourney. @Sini & @Ruby
Edit: @Vanq has posted in CS Tab so nevermind about hers.
The morning of the tournament before the sun was up Gwen was. Mentyr needed to be exercised daily and it was some alone time she enjoyed. She could put her thoughts together before she saw most anyone. She needed that time. With everything that happened last night she wanted some time to process. Without the She Bears.
Gwen had decided that she was not sitting side-saddle today so she wore the tunic and leggings that her family had sent to her. She pulled out a grass green tunic with embroidery. The thin silk was soft and slippery. The embroidery was of little buttery yellow roses, bright blue forget-me-nots and twisting vines that were a shade or two deeper green than the tunic. She grabbed a doeskin vest dyed a soft rich brown. The leggings were a soft buff color and clung to her long legs like a second skin. Her boots were gently worn, their color a brown so deep it was almost black and came up to the bottom of her knee.
Pulling on stockings before the leggings Gwen thought about the night before with Ashton and Arystide. Out of the two of them she had spent more time with Ashton and was going to meet his family this morning. That was exciting and terrifying all at once. Luci and Quinn had grilled her about what she thought of each and reminded her that there were more young men out there. Quinn had even mentioned Prince Aelor. After the rumors going around about Elayne Lothson being seen riding in his lap Gwen was very sure that he would be looking more in that direction rather than at her. She wouldn’t mind having a conversation with him or the Princess but Elayne was surely where he cast his eye for a marriage. It was rather bold but he was a Prince so his boldness was part of his charm.
Quietly pulling on her tunic and vest Gwen gathered her boots, belt and sword in hand. Rather than wake her Aunts she crept out of the room and into the silent hall. Slipping into the boots was almost comical as she attempted to be, if not silent, then quiet about it. She had already put two knives in the inside of her boots but she had to take them out as she put on the boots. Small little hops made almost no sound as she got them on and slipped the knives down the side. Then wrapping her belt around herself she adjusted it to where it felt most comfortable to draw the sword from.
Gwen was not Gryff but could hold her own with the blade. It was very plain looking because the lighter it was for her the better. She had limitations on how long she could wield the blade effectively. It wasn’t a great sword but it was modeled after a water dancer blade and sharp enough that it got the job done. She’d named it Riñnykeā or Lady in High Valyrian.
In the early half light of predawn the hall was nearly pitch black and Gwen struggled into the boots and started to braid her hair quickly. It was a loose braid from the back of the head. It would hold for now, and it was better than having it a snarled mess when she had to arrange her hair later.
Moving through the hall downstairs to a common room that was dimly lit by a banked fire Gwen smiled at the housemaid as her eyes nearly fell out of her head. “My Lady ya nearly gave me a fright. What in the name of the Seven are ya wearing men’s clothes fer?" The plump kind woman nodded at Gwen’s outfit.
Grinning Gwen bantered back with, “Oh just out riding is all."
“Is all she says like it’s a lark!? Ya be careful that the Demon Steed don’t get ya nor those She Bears who took the room across from you."
“Whist Mari don’t worry your pretty head. You did like I asked and put the power in the She Bear’s goblets right?" Mari nodded. “I’ll be back in an hour or so. Have a bath ready for me? Besides that Demon Steed in the stables is mine. He needs his lady and his exercise." Gwen snagged a piece of twine from Mari and grinned happily at her as Mari sputtered, crossing herself while Gwen tied up the end of her braid with a wink.
Scampering down to the stables Gwen wasn’t even out of breath when she got there. She hadn’t seen a soul on her way and the sky was just starting to lighten to a charcoal gray. She could hear Mentyr pacing in his stall and the whispers of the stable hands that were trying to calm him.
Gwen coming into the stables made Mentyr knicker like a young colt. “Miss me did you? You know they call you Demon Steed. One of these days you’re going to be far too interesting to a person of lofty interest and you inevitably will end up disappointing them."
Mentyr whinnied softly as if to say. “I care not, for they are not you, my love."
“Yes, yes you brute. They’re not me but you need to behave." Gwen knew she indulged the stallion but she couldn’t help it. She opened the stall door and he stepped out daintily. “Oh as if sugar wouldn’t melt in your mouth, eh? Keligon."
Mentyr stopped. She had given the word to stop him. She brushed him down and while he lipped her arms, leg, side and blew on her neck and she giggled he didn’t shift from his spot. Gathered a bridle that was bitless and put it on him. Tossing a saddle blanket over him she smirked and gave another command. “Obūljagon." Mentyr knelt smoothly at the command. She affixed the saddle to him and gave another command. “Sīmonagon." Rising smoothly he held his head high as she made sure the saddle was fitted properly. “Obūljarion." His front half went down and he waited for her to climb on. “Sīmonagon." He rose just as smoothly with her on his back as he had with no one on his back. “Memēbagon." He daintily danced forward and they were out of the stables.
Laughing Gwen rode hell for leather as she let Mentyr have his head.
Yet she was not the only one out whilst others still slumbered deeply. Another lone figure had risen early this morn, ignoring his guards' wishes for him not to go out alone. They were all such droll bores. But it was not an unusual sight, the young Lord had always been apt to awaken with the sun, leaving behind any warm bodies and thoughts of one too many goblets of wine. He enjoyed moments of solitude far more than he would ever let on, particularly given his late fathers propensity to encourage a near endless stream of guests, each as foolish and brown-nosing as the last. It had been lucky that Highgarden was vast and many did not know of its secret twists & turns. Though he was far from his home now and a tent, even one as extravagant as his own, left much to be desired in ways of entertainment.
His pace had reached a gallop when a sudden flash of white caught his eye. Years of instruction took over and he pulled on the reins, steering his steed in a wide arc, only narrowing avoiding what would have surely been a fatal accident. Hooves cast dirt flying, though thankfully there had not been a heavy rain and he was saved from the worst of it. He pulled back, his eyebrows furrowed as his heels dug gently into his steed's flanks, ceasing her unhappy movements.
"Calm girl." Garrett removed a hand from the reins, patting the ebony black mare firmly on her side. The horse responded quickly to his touch but gave a snort of annoyance, front legs stomping irritability against the wet grass, casting dew over its coat. His sharp gaze moved slowly over to the offending party, wondering which fool had decided to ride with such reckless abandon.
Leaning back in his saddle as easily as if he were in the finest chair, he looked the girl up and down. Red of hair but not Tully in her looks, and wearing what many ladies would refuse to ever place against their skin, she was somewhat intriguing, he'd give her that. He wondered if he recognised her, from the Pavilion last night, but there had been oh so many women. It was difficult to recall. A playful smirk played at the corner of his lips, his own hair lightly dampened by the fading fog of the early morning. "Do you always try to knock people off their horses at such an hour?" He raised a dark, mocking eyebrow, eyes glimmering, refusing to look away.
Preoccupation and letting Mentyr have his head was a mistake on her part. Gwen knew better and drew up sharply. Mentyr reared and Gwen growled at his juvenile attitude. Turning Mentyr back she brought him under control. "My apologies. I was preoccupied, which he took advantage of. But you are uninjured as is your animal. So the question begs, do you normally stand in the middle of a field wool gathering so that you cannot hear the world?"
The raised eyebrow over lavender gray eyes shot the snark back at the man. Her smirk was irreverent and in no way apologetic. He was as much to blame as she was. Handsome men, she was learning, had interesting and varied ideas on how to treat the opposite sex. "I am ready for your apology now. Unless of course you're not that good of a rider. Then as the superior rider I apologize."
Garrett steered his mare so they were beside one another, turning to face the woman once more. "I will not be goaded." He replied, a smile still painting his features. "I am happy for you to believe you are the superior rider, my ego is not so easily bruised." The lord leant in closer, or at least as close as one could safely do whilst atop a horse. "Though I do not think you could beat me in a race. I am rather wily and prone to cheating." Spoken with a stern seriousness it was difficult, as ever with the Lord, to tell whether there was any real truth to his words. "It really is an abhorrent habit." He smirked, feeling no unease in these lightly given confessions.
Keeping a serious countenance Gwen’s eyes sparkled with laughter at his wit. "Yes I could immediately place that about you. I said to myself 'There is a man who cheats'. Never play with a cheater, it spoils the game. Besides you have nothing I want. Your pride in tatters, as stunningly breathtaking it would be, I think not. There is no audience to witness your crushing defeat."
With little practically imperceptible movements Gwen ordered Mentyr to circle the man and his mare. For Gwen knew that Mentyr would never have let a male horse as close to him. "Besides that I have nothing you could want. Or were you looking for lessons?" She had finished circling and was back to where she had started, but closer. They were close enough to have easily reached out and touched the other rider.
"Hm, that is true, I have vowed to only embarrass myself when in the full view of at least a hundred other people." He quipped back, idly turning his head to keep her in his sight as her stallion circled him. "It is much too boring otherwise." His brown eyes glimmered with something darker as she continued to speak, though his countenance remained light. "Oh I would not say that. I'm sure you have plenty to offer. Perhaps a name would be an adequate start?"
Tossing her head Gwen smirked. “You would beg a name as your prize? What a funny little man you are. No harm in a name. Alright. To the treeline then."
Mentyr sprang into a full gallop at the touch of Gwen’s knees. The pounding of his hooves in a steady quick rhythm thrummed through her and she laughed freely. The treeline was, or rather had been a descent 200 yards from their stopping point.
Garretts jaw twitched before he cast after her, leaning into his mare. She was quick, very quick. Not built for war and no good at carrying a heavily armored knight, she was closely related to the sand steeds of Dorne. He had no temptation to let the stranger win simply because she was a lady and he gained on her, mud and broken pieces of hillock cast aside as he closed in. It was a small distance and just as it looked like she might win, he overtook her, pulling on the reins to pull his steed to a halt just past the first row of trees.
Jumping down, a cocky smile graced his features and he wandered over to her side, holding out his hand. "I believe I am owed a name?"
Laughing Gwen watched as the little mare put on a burst of speed and outstripped Mentyr. She pulled up and smiled broadly at the man who’d beat her fairly. As he moved to her side she whispered to Mentyr. “Gīda."
Mentyr steadied and stilled as the man came near him. He had gotten the look in his eye that he was going to lash out because the man was advancing on his lady love. He snorted as the man held out a hand to Gwen.
Gwen could get off Mentyr but it would require her jumping down exactly where the man was or getting off on the wrong side, which Mentyr wasn’t fond of. Gwen knew he wanted her name but she’d never promised him her name. “Mentyr." The steed flicked his ears and nickered softly. “You have your name, lit-uh stranger."
Garretts polite visage fell at her continued taunts. He stepped closer, grabbing ahold of her forearm. He paused as if in thought before, with a sudden yank, he had pulled her from Mentyr.
Gwen tensed as she saw the arrogant smirk fall from the man’s face. She had pushed too far. She felt Mentyr turn to lash out at the man and shouted as the man grabbed her, paused, then yanked. “Keligon!!" Her head was turned toward Mentyr who halted as she commanded.
The yank sent Gwen sprawling; she struck chest first into the man and gasped. Unconsciously and out of self preservation her feet had cleared the stirrups so the awkward position that he pulled her to essentially pulled her out of the saddle and on to him. Unfortunately she was off balance and totally reliant on him to stay upright until he let her go. Gwen blushed as she became aware that there was no separation but for their clothes and hers were summer thin. She could feel his body heat and it made her blush more as she realized that he was quite fit. “Unhand me or you will regret it."
Holding her against him, the Tyrell seemed rather comfortable with their closeness and made no move to let go. He leant closer, enough so that he could speak quietly into her ear. "Oh don't tempt me so, now I must see what you will do." He replied, his voice low and tender as if speaking to a lover, though his fingers were tightening around her upper arms. "Perhaps if you tell me your name then I will let go. Or perhaps not..." Garrett shrugged, "I did already point out that I am apt to cheat."
“Fancy to know the name of the female who undermined your manly riding abilities?" Gwen flushed angrily and struggled half-heartedly. She didn’t fancy a bruise and she was a little shocked at the words coming out of her mouth. “Gwendolyn. Now unhand me." Gwen narrowed her eyes on the man to cover her breathlessness.
"Thank you, Gwendolyn." Garrett smiled coldly before letting go, holding up his hands as one would if they were showing they bore no weapons. "But you mistake me. I do not care for my riding abilities, whether I have them or not is inconsequential to me. You are the one who was determined to beat me." He brushed a hand through his dark locks, shaking some of the moisture away. "I am now simply intent on never telling you my name. And I do hope you suffer because of it."
Gwen refused to rub her arms like she wanted to. To soothe? Yes to soothe the touch of the man who handled her with less care than she was used to. She glared at the man as she fought a shiver at his use of her name. It was intimate. “Did I ask your name? No. I did not. Perhaps you should have your ears checked or mayhaps it is your memory that is going. Besides, why should I suffer because I do not know your name? Believe me I will not." Her voice sounded husky and different to her own ears even as she gave him as good as he gave her. The excitement kicked up her heartbeat. She did not detest sparing like this; it wasn't really arguing.
He let out a bark of a laugh at her little speech. "It would be a blessing for my memory to fail me, for then I would not have to recall this encounter." He quipped back. Stepping over to his mare, he opened a fine leather satchel on its side, pulling out a ripe green apple. "I am surprised, Gwendolyn Carmyne," He spoke as the horse took a large bite from the apple, blowing air through her nose in what one would presume was a gesture of enjoyment. Her last name rolled off his tongue as if he had said it a thousand times before. "I imagined being a ward of the Starks would make one droll and dull in conversation. I am pleased to find it otherwise."
Gwen froze. He should not know her full name or who she was warded to. She recovered quickly, smirking as she looked him over, letting her eyes study his clothing. The deep rich marron leaning toward brown tunic was studded at the bottom with jewels. Peridot or so it seemed from the light green sparkles. Leather in a warm brown color with buckles that shone brightly in the morning light that was dappled due to being in the tree line. Some of them were open and she was lucky that she hadn’t cut herself on them when she fell. His tunic was open showing his undershirt that was an ivory colored silk and was open as well showing a small portion of his chest. Her focus wandered for an instant as she recalled the heat of him when she had fallen against him.
Her mouth tightened subtly as she refocused on his clothes. The cut was simple but the cloth was fine, again because she had fallen on him she noticed. His breeches were a deep brown and the weave an excellent fiber. His boots came up over his knee, the leather soft and brown so deep it was nearly black. It may have been simple but it was of excellent materials.
Looking toward his mare Gwen mentally calculated the value of the horseflesh and then the sword at his hip. Raising an eyebrow Gwen circled the man and moved to the mare. Mentyr nickered and snorted, stamping his foot at her giving the mare attention. “Lyka Mentyr." Stroking the mare she whispered soothingly to her, a murmur in High Valyrian. “Rytsas gevie riñnykeā. Ao dakogon raqagon se jelmio." A liquid string of words that was melodic and hypnotic as she told the mare she was a beautiful lady and ran like the wind.
“Nyke daor kesīr naejot kostilus ao." Was said to the man so that he could hear Gwen as she cast her eye in his direction letting him know that she was not here to please him.
Turning her attention to the man Gwen studied his face. “Your intimacies with my name and my place in a House not my own are fascinating." She tapped her chin with a single finger. “So you are one of three things. Possibly four.." She ticked off her thumb and first two fingers as she made her next statements. “An assassin from my Uncle. A scholar who knows house history. Or a lordling that has spies." She stroked the mare’s nose absently. “If you were the first, you're a poor assassin. Your clothes and horse are too fine to be a scholar so… a lordling that has spies. Spies that are well informed. Or you could be taken with me. Though that is laughable since you do not know me. No matter how intimate my name sounds coming out of your mouth..." She looked at the mouth in question and seemed to lose focus then blinked after a heartbeat or two.
Tipping her head Gwen felt the tendrils that had come loose from her braid slide along her neck and shoulders. She fingered the bridle on the mare’s head tracing the pattern of flowers embossed into it. Then she looked at the saddle which had the same embossed work on it. “Ostentatious in subtlety."
Gwen moved to point out the embossing in the saddle and along the bridle. She moved around to touch a lock of his hair. “Yes, your hair gives you away. Not to mention your subtle wealth." She let her fingers fall to the collar of his open tunic as she fingered the weave then the silk undershirt a moment before letting her hand fall. “Never put a puzzle in front of me you do not want to see puzzled out. ‘Growing Strong’ yes… I see… a Tyrell lordling." She smiled, flashing her dimples; it was that smile that charmed the North. She was mostly unaware of its effect on the opposite sex for it turned her from beautiful to captivating. She just knew that it caught people off guard unaware of why because she was unaware of her own beauty.
Garrett watched her silently, his dark eyes impassive as she picked out details that many others would not want, or be able to see. A glimmer of something flashed across his face when she delicately played with his collar and he was half tempted to grab ahold of her once more. She had done something rare - she had surprised him. Only moments before he had been ready to ignore her and leave, but now she had kindled a small spark of curiosity within him and it was that which made him stay. He was not ready to stop this game quite yet.
"How very astute. I did think I had dressed subtly but you have caught me out." He admitted with a wry smile, "I suppose I cannot deny that I am a Tyrell now or it might seem that I am ashamed of myself." The lord's words were playful as he closed the gap between them once more. As she had done him, he moved a hand to her head, catching a strand of vivid red hair and curling it about his finger. Her height was less than his own and he had to look down to face her when this close. "It is so unusual for a woman to inherit. Though perhaps it is becoming fashionable in the Riverlands?" He pondered idly, "My maesters think such things are a portent sign but I think they are old fools."
Opening her mouth to let him know that he had dressed subtly Gwen's eyes widened at him stepping near. Her eyes dilated as his scent teased. A sharp tang of apple crisp, sandalwood, warm leather and man. She almost backed up but stubbornly held her ground.
Straightening at the inherit comment She blinked and swallowed. He stirred things in her that were half frightening, half exciting and Gwen was a nudge away from listening to that impulse. Her lavender gray eyes flashed with a bit of temper and she adroitly retorted. "I do not know why you or your Maester would find this surprising. After all, did the Tyrells not support Rhaenyra's claim? Why should my sex matter if I inherit or not? Do you ask the Seven why you inherited your locks?" She reached up and caught a soft curl and rested her wrist on the bend of his shoulder and neck. Placing her wrist there she could feel the satiny smoothness of his skin and the beat of his pulse. Conversely, so could he monitor her. She ignored this as she combed her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck.
Gwen's eyes went soft as she envisioned him pulling her closer…
Blinking Gwen brought herself back to the present. Blushing, she removed her hand from his hair and his person. "And why should you feel they're fools…?" She let the question hang hoping he'd give his name.
"Because they are." Garrett replied bluntly, never one to shy from the truth. Or at least what he perceived as true. "I do not believe the Crone knows our fates and guides us, as some of my maesters would like to convince me." His brows furrowed for the briefest of moments, annoyance spilling over until he quickly reined it back in. "It is natural therefore that I have no qualms with you inheriting your house. It does not affect me." Garrett stepped forwards, the trees closing in behind Gwendolyn and leaving little room in the way of a retreat. He would oh so like to see her ivory skin alight with a blush once more.
"Unless of course your plan all along has been to woo me in the hopes of a betrothal?" He grinned wickedly, knowing he was stepping into territory that might be apt to upset her but enjoying it too much to stop. "No...I do not think that was the case, which is lucky for I am awfully selfish and cruel, and I would make for a terrible husband." A hand came up to rest on the tree trunk behind her, blocking the path to the open field beside them.
He advanced, Gwen retreated… into a tree. His comment about her wooing him made her burst out laughing. Her laugh was not the courtly affectation most women had. Gwen's laugh was pure joy and full of bright bubbly sparkling happiness. She laughed all the more at him saying he was cruel, selfish and would make a terrible husband. She laughed so hard that she thought nothing of leaning her forehead on his chest since she couldn't bend in double. Her arms held her sides as she finally wound down to little giggles. She was flushed and her eyes sparkled and she attempted to cover her mouth.
"Oh excuse me, I found those last few statements more than uncommonly funny." Gwen cleared her throat, grinning. "Me woo you?" She giggled. "One moment." Tipping her head back and sucking a breath in for control; she'd inadvertently shown off her long vulnerable neck, arched her back and pushed her breasts forward. It was but a few seconds then she cleared her throat and returned her sparkling attention back to the man who'd made her laugh. "I find me wooing you, not knowing your name and yet pursuing you… I cannot get past how hilarious that was but then you said you were selfish, cruel and a terrible husband." She barely got through the whole thing not laughing.
Breathing deeply determined to get through the rest of her comment Gwen continued on. "If you were any of those things that beauty there would not respond to you in such a manner. Her coat would be littered with scars or she would fear your slightest touch. She does not move because you ask her but because it is pleasing to you." Gwen had abandoned her laughter as she indicated his mare. As she spoke she began to feel a kinship with the mare and it made her feel peculiar.
Gwen realized how close he was. "You crowd me. Step back." She didn't want to sound panicked but she was starting to feel peculiarly warm as if the sun had been high in the sky and she'd been in it for far too long.
The lord seemed momentarily nonplussed by her laughter, staring at her even when she leant her head against his chest, his gaze passing over the fine curves of her body. She was undoubtedly a beautiful woman though she did not appear at all aware of her impact on others.
It was only when she took a hold of herself that he shook himself out of his reverie. His name nearly slipped from his lips but he stopped as she spoke of his horse, the amusement falling off his face like leaves from an autumn bough. "There is more than one kind of cruelty." Came his simple answer, though it irritated him that she spoke words which he could not refute. It was true that he saw little use in harming an animal. What purpose would there be to that? Especially when the mare had cost him more gold than most would see in the entire span of their lives. How dare she presume to...no not presume. How dare she read him so well? It infuriated him. And when she asked him to move away his eyes narrowed and for the first time it did not seem like he was simply playing a game. "Make me." He muttered coldly.
Gwen blinked then tilted her head. "I will in a moment, and I cannot say that you will like it. But tell me why you do not wish to."
Her words were a taunt, one Garrett refused to rise to and though he smiled, it did not reach his eyes. "Never." He snapped back before turning on his heel and striding over to his horse, who gave a gentle whinny of greeting. Rubbing a hand against the soft hair atop her nose, he took the reins, making to swing himself back onto the saddle.
Gwen blinked. "That was far too easy. By the Seven you swing as hot and cold as we women are purported to do." She was right behind him. "For being selfish and cruel you most certainly did not do the one thing you wanted to do this whole time. You'll regret that later." She stalked away toward where Mentyr had wandered off to. She had no intention of mounting; she was far too keyed up to ride Mentyr without risking his, her own or both their lives.
Frustration welled up inside her. So much frustration she wanted to scream but knew that wouldn't help. No one had ever frustrated, irritated or gotten under her skin more than this Tyrell boy. She turned and in an insulting tone shot at him. “Ao issi nykeā gevie vala! Sīr gevie ziry ōdrikagon issa naejot daor gīmigon aōha brōzi! ōdria issa!" Her tone was all fire and blood, however the actual translation was far from an insult. It spoke of him being a beautiful man and that to not know his name hurt her, wounds her. She meant it as a way to vent her frustration with the truth.
Gwen dresses in men’s clothes that were designed by her family.
Gwen sneaks out of her room in Summerhall leaving the She Bears in the dust.
Garrett is out riding and enjoying his freedom from the trivialities of life not paying attention and Gwen nearly runs him over due to neither of them paying attention.
The two banter back and forth then race to inside the treeline.
Garrett wins and Gwen tricks him.
Garrett gets annoyed and pulls Gwen from the saddle. Gwen stops Mentyr from lashing out at Garrett.
Gwen surrenders to his manhandling and warns Garrett to unhand her.
Garrett taunts Gwen and she gives it back with her name finally with a warning again.
Garrett lets go and they taunt each other till he drops her full name and what house she is Warded to.
Gwen panics for a moment then begins to evaluate Garrett a bit suspiciously.
Gwen makes comments in High Valyrian.
Gwen makes observations and puts the puzzle together mostly… and calls Garrett out accusing him of being an assassin, scholar or a lordling with a crush.
Garrett is surprised, which is unusual for him. He taunts Gwen and almost intimidates her.
They taunt one another he backs her up accusing her of attempting to woo him as he stated he was cruel.
Gwen laughs in his face and points out the flaw in his logic then she tells him to back up.
Garrett is a bit stunned and infuriated, telling her to make him back up.
Gwen calls his bluff by simply asking him to tell her why he won’t.
Ugh...I hate this part. So I'm super into Sailor Moon...which no one else is...and that's okay. I also really love Items, Escaflowne, Vampire Knight, Fushigi Yugi, Ah My Goddess, K Dramas, Chinese and Tiwanise Dramas as well. I torture people by making them read the TV.
Oh this is where I tell you I'm American...and I just lost a few people but oh well. Trust me if I could afford to live overseas I would. So yeah...that's me.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Ugh...I hate this part. So I'm super into Sailor Moon...which no one else is...and that's okay. I also really love Items, Escaflowne, Vampire Knight, Fushigi Yugi, Ah My Goddess, K Dramas, Chinese and Tiwanise Dramas as well. I torture people by making them read the TV. <br><br>Oh this is where I tell you I'm American...and I just lost a few people but oh well. Trust me if I could afford to live overseas I would. So yeah...that's me.</div>
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Chronic
PrinceAlexus
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