Feray's Forgiveness Was A Relief, But Dacey Still Stood Ill At Ease, So Sure She Had Said The Wrong Thing,

the frustration that had gripped her was uncharacteristic, but when amir spoke again, it was replaced with something far more familiar. a self-consciousness, a feeling that she had said something wrong, spoken out of turn, that in her own moment of anxiety and discontent, she had caused discontent in turn. and usually, despite her worries, dacey's feelings were unfounded, a result of a mind that worked too much and concerned itself with overanalysing her every action.

but there was no mistaking that this time, there was no unfounded fear. if it were not obvious in his words, it was in his tone, in the set of his jaw. a frown appeared on her face, and she racked her mind back over her previous words, trying to find the place where she had in her irritation provoked insult.

"i see." perhaps it was her own tone of voice, the expression on her face indicating more hostility than intended.

should she broach the tension that seemed to have rooted between them? dacey was unused to conflicts, unsure how best to navigate the waters she found herself in. she took a breath, a sharp, audible intake, and nodded her head. "if that is what my brother decides, then it is not for me to question it." not to question it, but to despair of it in private, away from any eyes that would look for dissent within the ranks of house stark, and dacey would not be the one to give in to it.

but despite it all, the prospect of war and death and battle a growing, pressing worry that was beginning to hurt her head, she could not shake the feeling that she had done something wrong. if owen was to move forward with skagos, there was nothing she could do about it, but if she had made things difficult between herself and house manderly, perhaps that was something she could atone for. theirs was a house that was important to the north, and dissent was not an option.

"my lord," she began, her tone shifting to one much more uncertain. "i apologise if i have given offence. i can assure you that was not my intention."

❅

there was an uncharacteristic, strenuous pause in the moments of hollowed silence between the princess of winter and the man that was ultimately a subject of her house, and her king. something in the air that shifted seemed to have caught onto his attention, and whilst the second son of manderly had never been one to overthink and strain himself over possibilities, the recent nights had been a different case all together.

perhaps he would have not noticed such a change, or such strain; and yet, his increasing sense of voluntary isolation in associating with other northerners only caused him to notice. perhaps add too much emphasis, wrap it up in something that it were not necessarily. "the king is the only one who can answer such a question, your highness." amir responded, and as much as he attempted to ensure his voice remained civil, there was a deadpan to it.

"judging by our conversation, he was eager to see it happen. if i had to guess, then yes. you would be correct."

the question was something he would have considered the answer as being obvious; the isle of skagos had struck out against the king, and the king held every moral and legal reason to get the situation under control. his expression changed ever so slightly in the face of her question, her somewhat bristled manner of passing the words across: it was rare to hear dacey stark speak up, and now when she did, it felt as though he were being patronised. as though he needed to explain the obvious.

and perhaps amir would have felt more sympathetic, felt more of an ability to see the situation as it was and walk it off. but there was a flare of anger that seemed to stir within his gut as he looked at the princess, a sense of anger that did not usually come forth so suddenly. and yet, it were as though his vision of the woman seemed to blur.

i've no wish to see another stark go to the grave before their time. before their time? as though everyone else's time had come for them? as though manal's time had come for her? the fuck was this absent ghost of a princess talking about? what made her think he wanted to hear of her concerns about her own family? the starks get a crown and forget, whilst the north remembers.

"yes, they will." amir responded, his tone bluntly formal. what he did not add, was how everyone else would be putting their necks on the line too. because as much as amir manderly wished he could get the words that burned off his chest, he knew his place. knew what he could, and could not do.

when the knock came at her door, dacey was still awake. sleep was not easy to come by for her - likely for any stark, given the myriad of tragedies that had faced. her mind was overburdened with worry more often than not, and this was not the first night she had lain awake until the dawn.

the knock startled her. at this time, it would only be a sibling or the bearer of more bad news. her relief that it was the former was soon washed away by the look on cassana's face. the two girls were drastically different, night and day in temperament, but there existed an unspoken bond that only sisters can possess. and so, without words, dacey threw back the covers and invited her into the bed.

as soon as cassana took her place next to dacey, she was covering them both again, her hand pressed gently into the small of her sister's back. the northern chill was unforgiving at the best of times, but worse in the dead of night when the fires were dwindling to ash.

eventually, cassana spoke, and at her words, dacey moved her hand from her back to wrap around her, pulling her as close as she could, as though that was enough to keep her safe. in reality, there was little dacey could do to protect her. she was no warrior, like so many of their blood, but it was not their comfort cassana had sought tonight. it was dacey's, and there was nothing she would not do to try and make her sister sleep a little easier.

"i'm sorry," her voice was tinged with understanding and concern. "would you like to talk about it, or would you prefer a distraction?"

location: at winterfell after the trip back home from the coronation event

@daceystvrk

as the late hours stretched on and on into the night's embrace, cassna moved the dimly lit corridors, her path illuminated by the soft glow of a candle clasped in her hand. her destination clear in her mind as she made her way to her sister's chambers.

a gentle rknock on dacey's door preceded cass's quiet entry into the room, casting her visage in a warm halo of flickering candlelight. whether her sister was still awake or roused from slumber mattered not, for in that first exchange of gazes between sisters, words were not needed. between them lay an unspoken understanding, nurtured since cass's return from the harrowing ordeal with the umbers. by day, she grappled with her turmoil through a veneer of aggression and anger. 

yet as night unfurled into darkness, a different specter haunted her—fear.

in the embrace of darkness, cass's unease found no refuge. unable to conceal her nocturnal trepidation with the same facade of anger, she harbored an unspoken dread. and so, an understanding unfolded between the sisters, a silent communion that transcended words. cass approached dacey's bedside, setting the candle upon the nightstand before extinguishing its flame, enveloping them both in the embrace of darkness. nestling beside her sister, she welcomed the comforting touch of dacey's hand upon her back.

minutes ticked by in silence before cass found the courage to speak, breaking into the silence. "i dreamt i was back there...that brandon didn't arrive in time," she confessed, her words punctuating the nocturnal stillness. it was not a prophetic vision that tormented the youngest stark, but a nightmare that held her in its unrelenting grip throughout the night.

a small part of dacey hoped that brandon would confirm that he knew exactly where saoirse was. that this was all a big misunderstanding, and he would take her to her sister, and things would slowly begin to return to normal - or as normal as they could be, given everything else that had happened since their arrival. they would return home, and she would hold her sister close and repair the distance that had festered between them over the years. in their childhood, dacey and saoirse had been near inseparable. the younger sister's fostering in the riverlands had put an end to that, and now, she hated herself for not doing more. why hadn't she done more?

she took a shaky breath, an attempt to steady herself, return her voice to its usual cadence, but it had little effect. when she spoke again, her voice cracked, pitching unnaturally. "saoirse's rooms were empty this morning. it seems she is not in the tower." dacey had always been private with her emotions. she bore her grief and worry and melancholy quietly, away from prying eyes, but there was no hiding it now. later, perhaps, she would be embarrassed by herself, her lack of self-control. right now, though, her own shame was the furthest thing from her mind.

brandon's line of questioning was logical. "a hunting party?" she repeated, half a mutter, allowing herself a moment to ponder the thought. but then, surely her departure would have been seen? somebody would have noticed a princess of the north, would they not? "perhaps? i'm not sure. nobody has mentioned it to me, but perhaps lord manderly..." she broke off, for even in her distress, she was sensitive to the fact that this may be a sore subject for brandon.

her dark eyes met his, and she nodded her head a little. in a way, it was comforting to know that saoirse had been seen so recently. there was only a few hours between her disappearance and the search. "i could not remember the last time i saw her," she confessed, diverting her eyes to look at her ruined hands. she felt like she had failed her little sister. saoirse could be anywhere, dead, alive, in trouble, or simply exploring, unaware of the trouble she had caused. dacey didn't know, but she should.

there was another element to her guilt, one perhaps only brandon could understand. their last conversation hung heavily on her mind, though she had kept what they had discussed to herself. she believed that divulging what he had shared with her would only cause her family further heartache. now, she couldn't help but wonder if her two sister's disappearances were linked - and if they were, could she have prevented all of this? was it her fault?

"we don't know if it's connected to alysanne."

♞

the words that seemed to come tumbling from the lips of the princess who stood before him were words that caused his hands to fall on either side, almost as though there was a blow of defeat he were now dealing with at hearing such a thing: because it meant something was terribly wrong. alysanne's matter was on alysanne, and he thought it was supposed to be focused only on her - she who had taken part in such rituals and practices, and now faced the consequences of lore that ran too deep even for her to understand. but the other princess?

there was no reason for the other to be impacted and to have gone missing too, especially considering her hands had not touched such things?

or had they? was there something he was missing? had both sisters been involved in the matter. "...what?" brandon spoke, his voice ringing a sense of numbing shock that had not been heard since he had been told news of his wife's murder. of her butchering. this was not of his own, and yet, he began to feel as though something nefarious was happening. or, was it a guise of something entirely natural using the chaos of all that had happened to their advantage? there was a level of informality that came in his voice, a striking contrast to their last conversation where he had maintained such boundaries - as she had too. "what you mean?"

brandon knew what she meant, and yet, the thought in itself was enough to cause genuine discomfort to come over him. his grey orbs flickered over the various other northern faces in the hall, some of whom seemed as upset and disturbed as the princess, and others who appeared afraid, looking over their shoulder. "there was a hunting party that left this morning." and there were multiple people going missing from kings landing - from the dornish to the north. were they all connected? they could not have all been connected. unless there was something darker going on here. "are we sure she did not leave with them?"

they would need to leave, was his own take on the matter; gods knew he would tell aleksander he thought it best to return north. some would wish to remain to search, and yet, it was clear this was no place for them. what made him the most uneasy was the fact not once did thought of the dragon king cross his mind, not once did he put it down to him. he only thought of the sight of the woods that night, and the sounds of the chanting. he would need to speak to someone.

"i saw her yesterday during the feast." brandon offered words of attempted comfort; the night where the majority of the northern court gathered together in the great hall allocated to them within kings landing, the tensions and fractures obvious in the air. there was a lack of spirit, and of joy; the king was an increasing drunk, it appeared, and the manderlys found themselves stepping further and further into the light of power. "i don't remember how many times…did she not leave before us all?"

Cathy Park Hong, from "Spring and All"

In the last few months, who has surprised you positively and who has surprised you negatively?

"my cousin, lucius rivers has surprised me positively. we were never close, but i enjoyed speaking with him in a way that i did not expect." the last few months had felt like such a never-ending wave of disaster that she cherished the moments in between where she could simply have a conversation and feel normal. "negatively, it would be my own sister. the princess alysanne." she had remained tight-lipped on what she had discovered about what alysanne had done, but her silence did not mean she condoned it.

dacey was trying her best, but there were times when that just wasn't enough. it overwhelmed her, crowds and people and the feeling of being on display, and that was what had her slipping away from the feast inside. she knew casterly rock not at all, and so it was here, to the stables, where the direwolf she had brought with her from the north was being housed.

she had managed to calm herself down when she stepped from the stables, until the crunch of gravel and a voice she had not expected startled her. dacey visibly jumped, though she did not cry out, silent, even when caught unawares. it took a moment for her to recognise the man who had stepped from the shadows - axell royce was not somebody dacey knew well. her hands clasped before her, an attempt to ground herself and assuage the temporary panic she had felt, though the anxiety she had been attempting to rid herself of bubbled up again.

it was not just her general discomfort with people she did not know. whispers clung to axell royce like his own shadow. dacey was no gossip, but she could see how they had started. still, she was not one to let her apprehension show, nor to be rude. her face arranged itself into a tentative, abashed smile, and she brushed a stray piece of hay from her gown. "forgive me, my lord. you startled me."

he spoke with something like disdain about the festivities, and she let out a polite laugh, too reserved in her ways to outright disagree with him, even though that was not what drew her here at all. "it is the way of the west, i think, to ensure their grandeur is the first thing any of us notice." that much was true, a neutral statement somewhere between his own and the truth, that the opulence here overwhelmed her, that she found herself craving something quieter and more like home.

she would not say that out loud, though, even when the conversation took a turn for her to explain why she, a princess of the north, had wandered off alone. she was certain he would find her reasoning quite ridiculous. instead, she reluctantly let one hand slip from the others grip, gesturing the the stable box where her wolf lay. "i just wanted to check on rose. my direwolf," she explained, quickly. "they unsettle the other dogs, so it is better to keep them in the stables. only, i was worried she would be howling, and making a nuisance of herself." it was a lie. dacey's wolf was a quiet, gentle soul, much like the woman herself, but he need not know that.

"what of you, my lord? just looking for a moment of peace?"

closed starter for: @daceystvrk setting: flashback to the westerlands gathering before the north left early. axell's wife has been missing for a few months now and word has only just begun to be spread to the other kingdoms

the air near the stables smelled of sweet hay and horses, a sharp contrast to the perfume-soaked halls of casterly rock. the celebration roared on inside, but out here, it was quieter, save for the occasional distant echo of laughter and music filtering through the stone corridors. axell royce had never been a man for grand feasts and courtly pretense, not when there were more important matters to tend to. and tonight, his focus had shifted to one particular matter—princess dacey stark.

she was a rare sight outside of winterfell, and even rarer to find alone. meek, quiet, unassuming in his eyes. the kind of woman who did not draw attention to herself, who moved like a whisper rather than a storm. axell liked that. he had seen too many women with sharp tongues and wandering gazes, women who brought trouble.like his late wife. maybe it was time for a change. he did not want trouble. he wanted control. and a stark princess, tied to the great north, bound to him by name and duty—well, that was an opportunity worth taking.

he stepped forward, boots crunching lightly against the gravel, making his presence known. “princess.” his deep voice cut through the cool air, smooth but edged with something heavier. he inclined his head slightly, the closest thing to a proper greeting he would offer. “didn’t think i’d find a stark hiding out here among the horses. tired of all the pomp and spectacle inside?”

he leaned casually against the stable door, his imposingly large frame filling the space. his dark eyes studied her carefully, weighing her reaction. “can’t say i blame you. there’s little worth entertaining in a hall full of peacocks.” a pause, calculated. “though, i must admit, i didn’t expect to find you here alone.” he let the words hang, inviting her to speak, to give him something—anything—to work with.

closed starter for @northernglorie

the hour was late, and dacey's quiet footsteps echoed against the stone walls, reverberating through the silence. there was once a time when she could count on being the only one awake when night fell over the keep, but now, it was more and more common to find that she was not alone in it.

more often then not, one who could be counted on to remain awake was glorie. and on nights where solitude was too much for her, dacey found herself here, approaching glorie's door with a warm drink and the hope that the night would end a little less lonely.

"i brought you something to drink," she placed the cup carefully on a clear spot on the table, careful not to interfere with glorie's work. there was a quiet admiration for her good-sister, and she liked to think that glorie knew it was there, that it showed in these small gestures. "and some candles. i wasn't sure if you had enough."

"and my company, if you'll have it."

dacey turned her head, dark eyes fixing on brandon. there was much that neither was saying, but she wasn't sure they needed to. she couldn't change what had come to pass, but that did not erase the years of knowing him. there was a small comfort in that, the fact that despite everything, she could still find a way to understand him.

"no, of course not." she almost felt a fool for asking. she was in unfamiliar territory, tasked with dealing with things that scared her, that her morals did not hold with, but that did not need to become his problem. still, there was a hesitancy in her, as though spending enough time with what alys had left behind to get rid of them would stain her by mere proximity. she dropped her gaze to her hands. "if there's a way to get rid of such things without making things worse, i'll find it."

she knew little of such practices, except for the gnawing feeling that alys dabbling in them had been a dreadful mistake, and that she would need to be careful in how she proceeded. her first instinct was to throw the whole cursed lot into the fire, but the logical part of her mind told her that would be a grave mistake. the old valyrian empire was steeped in stories of magic, coming from fire and blood. dacey kept to the old gods, but there was a significance to the flame she didn't want to invite. neither did she want to remove alys' belongings in such a way that others could find them.

"and what are your thoughts, brandon?" the formality between them was dropped, driven from her head by the distraction the issue before them presented. she could guess, and was pretty certain her assumptions were close to accuracy, but she would hear it in his own words first, should he be willing to share them with her.

"hmm." her brow furrowed. "i suppose whether or not owen knows is... somewhat irrelevant. for as long as alys remains missing, at least." something deep in dacey's heart told her she would not see her sister again. should that continue to remain true, she wasn't sure that owen's knowledge was relevant. "i don't think i'm going to tell him."

♞

there was a heavy beat of silence in the aftermath of her words, that were tainted with a hint of annoyance that sounded so inherently abnormal within her voice. they were the same in some regard, swept up in the decisions and circumstances of the gods to have to transform, mutate, according to their will. somewhere deep within the sun of winter, the sight of the flames that licked the heart tree and spread from branch to branch as though it were limb from limb, and he knew that the gods would remain unhappy with him.

"i do not know such the depth behind such things, yer highness." brandon spoke, his karhold accent wrapping around each of his words: rougher than the other northern dialects, he found himself thinking back on that night they had embarked for the neck, to cross into the land of rivers and feast within the hospitality of house blackwood - distant kinsfolk. to have emerged from the tent to hear the raspy sound of a voice that was not alysanne's, and the knowing of what it was he needed to halt. to stop.

"princess alysanne heard all my thoughts on the matter." in the end, she had warned him that the ritual had been left incomplete: and yet such action and darkness was not his place to merely turn a blind eye to. brandon karstark was a northman, but meddling in such magic and was only asking for further trouble.

the gods were beyond unhappy. there would come the need for penance, from some place or another. at sometime, when he expected it or when he did not expect it. there was a time where he would have tried to ease the concern and anxiety this may have brought forth, if not with overt affection, than at least with words of warmth that would provide a sense of everything be okay in the end. he hated how he no longer believed such a thing; the concept that everything would turn out okay in the end. it was far from it, and that was obvious.

"i cannot confirm if the princess informed the king." how was he to know such things anymore?

it wasn't that dacey wasn't enjoying herself. in fact, aleksander's feast was a welcome reprieve from everything, but as the night went on, she found herself growing more and more overwhelmed as the attendants grew more and more inebriated. making her excuses, she slipped from the hall, alone, seeking a short break from the festivities.

her moment of solitude didn't last long. the gracious host's voice reached her, and dacey turned her head to face him, smile on her lips.

"not yet, i'm afraid. i just wanted a little air." eyes raked over aleksander, noting his unsteadiness. she was glad that he seemed to be enjoying himself - it was, after all, his night. "would you like to join me?"

who: @daceystvrk where: a hallway outside the great hall

Perhaps Aleksander had indulged a little too much. The Lady Greenleaf had given him a magnificent gift with that bottle they'd shared, but it had made him a little unsteady on his feet as well. Aleks found himself craving a bit of fresh air, but he got no farther than the hallway right outside the noisy Great Hall. Candles lined the walls in their flickering orange glow, casting long shadows.

Aleks braced his palm against the cool stone. A smile split his lips as he caught sight of Princess Dacey. "Tired of the party already, your Highness?"

the offer of tea should not have come as a surprise to dacey. for as long as she had known lillith, she had known her to brew her tinctures. and yet, something in it caught dacey off guard, anyway. she couldn't quite put her finger on the reason for it, why the offer, given so simply, set her ill at ease, but she tried not to dwell on it.

instead, she gave a small nod of her head, glancing towards lillith, then the fire, and then back again. "that sounds lovely," she said, and she meant it. tea did sound lovely. she was being ridiculous, as usual. "i've never been one for the strong stuff. tea will be enough, thank you."

her gaze returned to the hearth, watching the flames flicker. she was always one more comfortable in the quiet, something lillith knew well, but there were times when it felt awkward to dacey, as though she should be offering words, but she just couldn't reach them. it took an enormous amount of effort to bring herself to speak, though when she did manage it, there was relief in hearing her own voice sound even and steady.

"i imagine it tastes of the woods, your blend. birch and honey." there was a thoughtfulness to her voice, inviting lillith to fill the spaces between it. "of ironoaks?" she looked to her then for confirmation. "it would be nice to share something from your home."

even when dacey had briefly found herself in the vale in the past, she had never seen ironoaks, though its name alone conjured a picture - tall trees, straight and strong, standing guard upon the mountain. would the vision in her mind compare to the real thing? or was she entirely wrong? "i hope when i visit, i don't bring enough of the snow to be cruel. just enough to make everything quiet for a little while."

lillith gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment, the corners of her mouth twitching in something like amusement—small, fleeting, but there all the same.

“if you did, i suppose it would serve the vale right,” she mused, mismatched eyes flickering toward the hearth as if measuring its warmth. “perhaps then they’d stop pretending the mountain winds are anything but frigid.”

she was silent for a moment, letting the fire crackle between them, the weight of dacey’s words settling in the space they occupied. the north is as much a part of me as the marrow in my bones. a sentiment she understood, though her own bonds had been forged differently. she had never felt trapped in ironoaks, precisely, but there was an expectation to remain, to endure. it was not always an unwelcome thing. but there was something about the way dacey spoke that made her wonder if the cold in her bones was comforting, or suffocating.

without much preamble, she said, “i could make you some tea.”

it was not quite a question, nor was it particularly warm, but there was a quiet sincerity in the offer. lillith was not one to fuss, not one to coddle, but she knew the value of small comforts. and, if nothing else, she had a fair hand at brewing something strong enough to warm through the bones.

“i brought a blend with me from ironoaks,” she continued, shifting slightly as if already preparing to follow through. “black tea, with birch and a bit of honey. it’s good for the cold. unless you’d rather something stronger?” a wry note entered her voice, though her expression remained unreadable.