Elizabeth Olsen As Wanda Maximoff In WandaVision S01E09

his musings on the gods brought a purse to her lips, a thoughtful look to her eye, and she nodded their head. in king's landing, she had felt so utterly disconnected from the old gods. in the north, she could feel them everywhere, in every bite of wind and whisper of the trees. the further north they travelled, the more at ease she felt, and in blackwood lands, there was a sort of comfort knowing that here at least, they still had power. "then it is all we can do to trust in their wisdom, and hope that we can change with their will, too." she held her faith very privately, but there was an ease to their conversation that made it easier to talk about.

if there was one skill dacey possessed, it was knowing when to stay quiet and listen. lucius did not change his stance, but his words carried enough weight that she did fall into silence, allowing him to speak the thoughts through to completion before responding. "then perhaps there is no luck involved, on either side. you are all simply where you belong." she could almost envy that. so many of her days were spent feeling out of place and out of sorts, trying to contort herself into a shape that fit with something. she did not get the impression the same could be said for lucius, who wore who he was with no frills or compromise, and yet had roots in the ground, a place and a role and a purpose.

"i'm glad of that. i will be awfully embarrassed if you reduce me to tears," as quickly as they had grown serious and candid, the tone once again shifted, a rapport that was more convivial. "westermen, valyrians," she raised a hand and made a gesture, as though dismissing the idea of both. "conversing with either feels like they are trying to catch you out on something so they may use it to condemn you. at least there's a candour to stormlanders i can appreciate. i would rather be slighted by honesty than find comfort in treachery."

Dacey was certainly reserved in what she said, how she phrased things, and her diplomatic demeanor. He detected some disdain in her words, though, or what he believed to be disdain toward the newly crowned Targaryen king. He could respect that she was not immediately inclined to be a boot-licker about it, as so many seemed to be when it came to the mad House of the Dragon. “Stranger things could happen still,” he mused, “the gods continually will for the world to change”.

Lucius glanced silently at the princess as she complimented his presence in the Blackwoods' lives. So often it was perceived in such a way. His siblings were lucky to have him, someone who would always raise his bow and fight for them. A different thought crossed his mind, though, one that was rare in Lucius' mind. “I'm lucky to have them,” he found himself saying. The bastard's stern demeanor remained, despite the vulnerability he perceived in saying something like that out loud. It was best to focus on the practicality of it all, rather than the emotional side of things. “Not everyone welcomes someone like me into their families. I suppose I was fortunate my father always claimed me, even if he didn't give me his name”.

The bastard actually found himself smiling a little at his cousin's last words. She spoke in a similar upfront manner as Maggie did, somehow never crossing a line into cruelty or becoming offensive. It was a talent he didn't develop so graciously. “Fret not, I've no evil plans to do so, Dacey. I do pity you if you've dealt with worse,” he said in a more light-hearted manner. “Who was it? A Westerlander? A Stormlander?”.

if there was one thing dacey knew how to do, it was be polite. manners and kindness came to her with ease - but that did not mean it was not hard to stifle a laugh at the sight of aleksander, donning the ornamented mask she had been allotted, with all it's fine embellishing. doubtless, aleksander would not mind her laughter, but she closed her eyes and pressed her lips together anyway, just for a second, to regain her composure. when she opened them again, though, she was still smiling. "you are far too kind." she meant that genuinely, before her expression turned more mischievous, a rare sight in the princess of winter. "but let's see what you win first, hmm? then we can decide who it should be inflicted upon."

"Apologies, your highness," Aleksander put on a faux solemn tone, hand placed over his heart before the mask was handed to him and he quickly fixed it in place. This ornate piece was heavier than the one he had originally worn. Perhaps this would aid them both in their disguise. A princess wearing a plain mask while a second son wore something ridiculously decorated. He snorted, then. "Don't know how welcomin' the mudmen will be towards symbols from the west. Might be close to the border but they're still northmen through and through." Nonetheless, he was not about to pass up a challenger. Never was, never would be. "I'll win a prize for you, m'lady. To take back to Winterfell." That they were more inviting to such things was no secret, it went unsaid.

the last thing that dacey had expected to find when glorie had wed her brother was a sister. the best she had hoped for was a friend, but glorie had become more than that to her. now, she was as much family as her own blood siblings, and for that, dacey was endlessly grateful. it would have been easy for the mistress of coin to ignore dacey, the direwolf who had never found her howl, but she hadn't. in their sisterhood, dacey found solace, and that was what she sought now, in her own way. the tea and offer of a sympathetic ear was for glorie, because it was in the act of giving that dacey took her comfort.

"it was nothing." it truly had not caused her any trouble - if anything, it was a welcome distraction for them both. a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "an excuse to come and badger you, in truth. i thought it might go over better if i didn't show up empty-handed." it was typical of dacey's sense of humour, a wry sort of self-deprecation. she moved a little further into the room, settling in an empty chair and glancing at the pile of work glorie still had to sift through, with only a small pang of guilt. "i hope you don't expect to be here too much longer?"

the question was a tricky one to answer. dacey's gaze dropped to her hands - still, for a change, but her fingers raw and painful from the toll that everything going on had taken on her over the last few weeks. "just grief and worry," she answered truthfully. "something we have seen more than enough of. nothing you'd be sorry to miss."

if ever there were time for glorie to listen to her body and take a slight reprieve, it was now. her exhausted frame begged to be released from its upright position at her workspace to lean against the comforting cushion lining her chair. she would have allowed slumber to whisk her sway right then and there if it weren't for the light suddenly cast from the firelit hallway. she half expected to see adam emerge from the other side, but he'd been distant as of late, and she was reluctant to interfere with the way grieving had seemingly overtaken him. instead she's greeted by a friendly and familiar face. one that earns a warm grin from the princess consort.

"you didn't have to do that," there's a certain appreciation in the way she spoke. she hadn't a thought of such things until they were presented to her, but the realization that she was, in fact, in dire need of both only makes her that much more grateful. "thank you, your highness." always such formalities. would she ever learn to lighten her essence when others were near? she couldn't seem to unwind no matter how comfortable her kinship with someone is.

"of course, please join me. it seems i haven't seen the spring sun rise or set as of late. is there anything special i've missed?" the company of her family and peers, perhaps.

"must be the jet lag," her own grin betrayed the fact she was being about as serious as he was. it was true that dacey was a classic introvert, leaving social gatherings early more often than nod and endlessly glad that her job gave her a convenient out. it was different with ulises, though. he anchored her in a way, and it was easy to tune out the crowds that surrounded them and carry on as though they were both back at home in their own little world.

she'd not quite mastered spanish, though she was trying to learn, but she knew enough that she understood what he said perfectly, her cheeks tinging a light shade of pink. "so do you," came the simple response, before pulling out her wallet to tuck the pictures carefully inside, on top of a photograph of her dog that was beginning to look ragged around the edges. "are you sure? we don't have to." despite giving him the out, she allowed him to lead her back into the booth, squashing herself onto the tiny bench beside him. she slid a coin in to start the camera, and turned to him as the countdown began. instead of facing the screen and smiling, this time she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and waited for the flash to go off.

“Getting tired already?” he asked with a playful smile. Ulises it was more likely she just simply blinked, but then again, being in this sort of big event with so many people could be somewhat draining. His own social battery was still holding up, but he knew that in a couple of hours, he'd need to either step back for a bit or suggest they left altogether if Dacey was also feeling okay to leave then.

“Te ves hermosa,” he murmured without thought, just looking at the four little images of them. It was true that her eyes were closed in the last one, but her smile remained. She looked so serene, so happy. It made him feel endlessly fortunate to be able to play some part in Dacey's happiness like that. “Yeah, you can keep it,” he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Let's take another one,” Ulises suggested, taking her hand in his and guiding her back inside the booth.

dacey's gaze whipped to aleksander, the surprise and hesitancy in her dark eyes softening when she realised that there was a familiar face behind the mask. "oh, i don't know. i think i would rather have yours. this feels a bit much for me," she waved a hand in front of her face, gesturing to the far more ornate mask that covered it. "we can always swap, if you like. and i mean that literally, by the way, not as an elaborate ruse to unmask you and take your coin."

who: @daceystvrk where: lann's day festival in lannisport

The inside of the mask was a little stuffy, but Aleksander would survive. The city was beautiful enough, colorful and lively. Finding Dacey amongst the growing crowd was a little tricky, but he managed eventually. He gave the side of her mask a miniscule flick. "You got a good one," he said, a chuckle coloring his tone. His hand rose to touch his own mask, unremarkable and rather plain. "I was less lucky. This was the last one they had left."

DACEY STARK - the inspirations

cosette (les misérables)

there was dew in her eyes. cosette was a condensation of auroral light in womanly form.

violet parr (the incredibles)

i feel different. it's different, okay?

beth march (little women)

there are many beth’s in the world, shy and quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, and the sweet, sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind

isobel thorm (baldur's gate iii)

i hope we won't intrude on your hospitality too long. i'm grateful for a safe place to... well, just to be.

sandy (grease)

to my heart i must be true

rapunzel (the brother's grimm)

When she was twelve years old the witch shut her up in a tower in the midst of a wood, and it had neither steps nor door, only a small window above.

primrose everdeen (the hunger games)

there's something else there as well, something entirely her own. an ability to look into the confusing mess of life and see things for what they are.

tara maclay (buffy the vampire slayer)

things fall apart, they fall apart so hard.

{ Words by Megan Fernandes, from "Fabric in Tribeca," in Good Boys / Silas Melvin, from "Twenty," Grit }

{Words by Anaïs Nin, from The Diary Of Anais Nin, Vol. 4 (1944-1947) / Cynthia Cruz }

House Stark

of Winterfell

Winter Is Coming

credits: divider created by @zaldritzosrose

house stark won the poll. the next one is house velaryon!

if dacey was more confident, more sure of herself, she likely would already be dancing without waiting for invitation from hugo vance of the riverlands. she would not care if she looked a fool, would not worry that people may look at her and laugh. 

but unfortunately, she did care. she didn’t want to embarrass herself, her brother or her country, and worst of all she didn’t want to embarrass the poor man who had asked her to dance. for a second, she wavered, considered changing her mind to spare him having to go through that. 

but then he spoke, with a self-deprecating joke that mirrored her own, and that was enough to banish doubts and set dacey stark at ease. She exhaled a quiet breath of laughter at his words. “either we are about to make a wonderful pairing, or the worst westeros has ever seen,” she mused. “Shall we find out?”

She didn't say Princess and it made him wonder how he should greet her. Hugo knew that as a Stark of Winterfell she was undoubtedly a Princess of the North. Far more regale than he expected, soft features and nothing about her said she was a Northern woman. She didn't look ready to don a leather jerkin and go into battle. No. She looked a lady, a Princess. And that made him even more nervous.

Hugo Vance was going to fall over and crack his head on the floor, he just knew it. He knew that he would embarrass his kingdom. But, when the fall didn't come, he trusted himself and decided he would address by her title for she was a Princess and he'd yet to meet a Stark that did not have their title.

"The pleasure is mine, your highness. And so is the honor."

He smiled at what he would assume was her jest. "No worries, I've two right feet, so together we may make up for the others shortcomings."