Dacey's Thumb Brushed Faintly Over The Back Of Naelys' Hands, Tracing Soft Circles In A Touch Light As

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?"

dacey stark - a future au

quick links

style

home decor

career

vibes

school years

whilst the stark family have a long history, dacey was always quietly determined to make her own way in life. she did not have many friends in school, keeping her head down and getting on with her studies.

a straight a student, she did not involve herself in clubs or extra curricular activities, but spent a lot of free time volunteering for charities.

despite having a very small social circle, she dated hugo vance for a while in school, parting in college as they grew apart.

adult life

dacey went to medical school, and ended up becoming a doctor - specifically, a paediatrician who works in a children's hospital on a ward for long-term patients.

she still keeps to herself, living in a country cottage with her golden retriever, lily.

before starting her job at the hospital, she spent some time travelling to provide medical care for underprivileged children. it was on her travels she met safeerah jordayne, and they dated for six months before parting ways on good terms.

currently, dacey is in a relationship with ulises tarth, after being introduced by her brother, adam.

the idea that owen and the targaryen king would make nice with one enough was enough to bring a small laugh to dacey's lips. "i very much doubt it, but i suppose stranger things have happened." she didn't like to speak for her brother, and more often than not had little insight to offer, but on this, at least, she felt confident. "i don't really know the whys of it all. why we went there," she confessed. "if i had to guess, i would say it was probably more about who else would be there than the man of the hour."

she nodded, his amplifying her respect for him. "such is the lot of an older sibling." she had enough siblings herself that she understood how it worked, being both an older sister and a younger one herself. "they're lucky to have you." it was not an empty compliment. as much as she would not bring it up, there was no escaping the fact his cousin was a bastard, and life would not be as kind to him as to his siblings for that simple fact. and yet, a bond still seemed to exist between lucius and his kin, and that was something she found commendable.

"you're not the worst company i've ever had." she shrugged. she'd no doubt that he was capable of rubbing people up the wrong way, but she'd yet to be offended. she didn't even really feel all that self-conscious, which was a feat within itself. "i'm rather enjoying it, actually. if you wish to make things unpleasant, you might have to try a little harder than you initially planned." there was an honesty to the way he spoke that she appreciated. there had been little of that in king's landing, and she had grown weary of trying to decipher the difference between what people said and what they meant.

Lucius knew that perhaps he ought to say something about the losses endured by House Stark. Say something for the sibling that was recently buried, or the sister that had gone missing. He didn't truly feel sorry, however. He had no ill will, he simply had never gotten to know Jon or Alysanne at all. They had been strangers to him. So he didn't utter any condolences for they would have been superficial, insincere words. Even Dacey, who was just getting to know him, would have detected the lack of truth.

“Your brother is seeking to make good with the dragon king?” he inquired, curious to know what was the North's vision of the recent crowning. The realms were no longer Seven Kingdoms under Targaryen rule and had not been for years, and yet they all dragged themselves to the old capital to kiss ass and play nice with the dragon folk. “I admit I had little desire to travel there myself, but where my siblings go, I go. Someone needs to keep an eye on them”. Especially in a place where he trusted no one.

Lucius glanced sideways, looking at Dacey briefly as they walked. “Fret not, I'll be quicker than you in making my company unpleasant,” he half-joked in return, certain that she'd be the one escaping his company eventually, not the other way around, since the Stark princess was evidently a sweet person. The bastard knew he wasn't a likable man and never really bothered to make himself so. Polishing his manners in that way had never been something his father cared about. Samwell never sought to make a proper lord out of him, after all.

for a moment, dacey fell quiet, looking beyond lucius at some point in the distance. his words presented a conundrum, for as much as she was enjoying his company, in a strange sort of way she hadn't quite anticipated, lucius did not feel like someone she should confide in. but then, neither could she ignore his words. there was no doubt that the misfortune that had hit house stark in king's landing was not a secret.

"no." her answer came quietly. she had almost managed to forget, for a moment, lost in the frivolity of small talk, but now her mind wandered back to her sisters. "king's landing wasn't a good experience for us." the fact they were returning with two less starks amongst their number was proof enough of that.

she didn't want to dwell on it. there would be time to think it all through once she was back in winterfell, but time with her cousins was brief, and soon it would be over. she wanted to make the most of it, and so she schooled her face back into a smile and nodded her head. she had not asked the question out of a need to stroke her own ego - it was a genuine curiosity, one that had now been sated. "i'll try and keep it that way." the joke was a light, self-deprecating jab at herself. she even managed a laugh. "there's no offence taken. i'm actually flattered you think so."

Lucius gave a curt nod in response. A fresh start it was. Another person might have considered the strategic nature of becoming closer to someone of royal blood, yet the bastard did not operate in that way. There were few benefits in the world for him to reap beyond what his skill, his infamy, and the closeness to his siblings would award. The Bowman of Raventree Hall did not look for kindness or warmth in others either, yet he could not deny a part of him did appreciate Dacey Stark's manner of treating him.

“Northern folk don't do too well in Southron realms, I've heard,” he mused, admittedly curious to learn her opinions. Lucius did not merely mean the differences in weather, but the way of moving about in the world and interacting with others was so distinct in the wintry realm of the Starks than it was in other regions.

He wouldn't speak further on behalf of his siblings, though knowing the softness in their nature, they would never deem their cousin an intrusion. Her next question was somewhat unexpected. He arched an eyebrow, glancing at her as they walked. He wasn't someone who often felt pleased, so he actually struggled somewhat to decide where he found himself around that spectrum. “I'm not displeased,” he admitted in the end. “No offense to your siblings, but I do find your company better than theirs. They're so serious,” the Riverlander added with a light scoff. He knew he was a serious individual too, so putting him together with someone similar was just a recipe for quiet nods, intense stares and taciturn silence.

anya spoke of pride, of the strength of standing alone. dacey was no stranger to self-imposed isolation, in shouldering her worries alone, but that was where the similarity stopped. her own reasons were quieter, less fierce. she bore things alone not because she believed it made her stronger, but because she feared the weight of her burdens on those she might share them with. there was no sense of northern honour, no streak of independence that she might take comfort in. it was simply easier to swallow the heaviness in silence rather than risk becoming another stone around someone else's neck. were anya chose to hold it like a shield of defiance, dacey's solitude was a habit she had worn for so long it was second nature.

and still now, dacey did not share what was on her mind, instead choosing to continue to speak of anya with a soft smile on her face. "i've often found that to be the case. people can be cruel, i won't deny that, but your own mind is often crueller." others could light the flame, but it was insecurity that often fanned it to an inferno. away from the comforts of home, those feelings were amplied tenfold. "we forget that we see every flaw in ourselves too easily. we can't ignore the cracks that exist within us, and so we expect others to see them just as clearly." her gaze softened when she looked at anya, understanding the weight of admitting such thoughts aloud. "the north was never supposed to be endured alone, i think. we have always been strongest when we stand together. my company is yours to take whenever you have need of it."

and yet as she spoke of unity, it did not escape dacey's thoughts that the north was a court that was growing more and more divided. it felt like she was standing on a frozen river, watching hairline fractures appear in the ice beneath her feet but powerless to move before they cracked below her. the true north cast a growing shadow, but it was another discomfort she held close to her chest, not daring to voice aloud. especially not here, where the image of seeming steadfast mattered so much more.

"embarrass us?" a small frown appeared on dacey's face, and she shook her head. "oh, no, no. i don't think that has been on... well, anybody's mind." but as she thought about the other women, the way it seemed to come so naturally to them what even dacey wore uncomfortably, she could not deny that she couldn't see the root of anya's worries. "the king, my family, we all know who you are, anya. if we had fear of that, i am sure owen would have had no qualms about asking you to remain at winterfell." her teeth came down to chew at her lip, considering what she was about to say next. "but i understand it. the fear of it, i mean. if there is anything i can do to help you, i will." she had never been one to allow someone to face the world alone. she would not start now.

Anya listened intently, letting Dacey's words settle over her. They carried a quiet wisdom that reminded her of why she admired the Stark princess so. Though the paths they walked were different, there was a shared understanding between them, a recognition of the burdens that came with forging their places in the world. Dacey’s observation struck a chord. People never really see you how you see yourself. It was a truth Anya had long grappled with, given her origins, given how she had grown up. The raven-haired woman thought that sometimes she saw more worth in herself than others did, and sometimes it was the other way around. It was a strange sort of cycle in which she moved.

“I suppose that’s true,” she agreed with a nod, a faint smile touching her lips. “Perhaps it’s for the best, in some ways. We can be harder on ourselves than anyone else could ever be”. Perhaps the worst kind of thoughts about her, were the ones she'd conjured herself. Anya’s dark eyes searched Dacey’s face, noticing the princess’s quiet strength, the subtle resilience in her words. And then there was an offer in the princess' words, something that felt like she was extending friendship. “For so long I thought there was pride, there was strength, in standing alone,” Anya admitted. “But I don't always want to be strong... I don't always wish to stand alone”. It felt like both immense weakness and great strength to confess such a thing. “I’m grateful for your company, for your understanding. It’s… rarer than I’d like to admit”.

The judgment could come from the West or from any other place, Anya knew. The princess was right once more, in saying that there could always be something to judge. The Yuan lady knew it was impossible to bend and shape herself in every way that would please others. She'd not done it a day in her life, and it was maddening that as a lady, she was no considering such outside opinions. She shrugged then, the gesture half-defiant, half-resigned. “Well, let them think what they will, I suppose,” she murmured.

“I do still have to learn how to be a better lady, though,” she added with a little chuckle despite herself. “I would hate to embarrass the king and your family because I've not been raised like others have”. Anya's tone was less doubtful, however, more light-hearted in the knowledge that there was still more for her to learn, and having the humility to admit it.

his mask slipped a little, and while she felt a pang of guilt, it was not enough to offer to swap back. in this matter, dacey decided she would be completely selfish. "you can always take it off, if it's too cumbersome for you," there was a faux innocence laced in her tone. "i'd be happy to take it off your hands. for the purposes of the competition, of course." her arm slid through his, leading him to the festival games and looking for something aleks might excel in. "what of this?" she pointed to a wooden crank. from what she could understand, it was a test of strength, the aim being to use one arm to get the crank to turn to a right-angle. it reminded her of an arm wrestle. "you are strong."

He saw her suppress a laugh as Aleksander had finally fixed his mask in place, the ridiculous ornate thing heavier than his simple one had been. Dacey's amusement came as no surprise and when he lifted his hand to nudge to mask back into place after it had slipped a little, Aleks couldn't help the small, albeit equally amused, sigh that escaped him. He huffed, then, offering his arm for the Princess to slip her own through. "Right. Your Highness deserves nothin' but the best," there was slight mockery in his tone, but in no way malicious. The Princess Dacey did deserve good things. That did not mean Aleks couldn't make jokes. He led them towards the stands with the Games, contemplating which one might be the best to play.

she did not step forward to embrace lillith, nor did she offer a barrage of greetings and questions. it was not the way of dacey stark, even with those she was closest to, and yet, there was a warmth in her expression that was nothing to do with the hearth they stood at. lillith understood that, and for that, dacey was endlessly grateful.

it was why the tense set of her shoulders relaxed, even as her gaze dipped to the floor. "if only it were not so loud," she said, with a self-deprecating chuckle. winterfell was bursting at the seams with life, but their time here together in their younger years had been spent in quieter halls. dacey far preferred the latter.

she glanced behind her, further down the hall, where voices and laughter mingled with music. "sometimes i think i wasn't made for this," she confessed. it wasn't just sometimes - it was always, forever trying to fit a role she wore uneasily. there was no bitterness in her tone, nor any trace of self-pity, just a weariness she could not deny.

her lips curved into the smallest of smiles, and she nodded her head, a quick, nervous gesture. it was not to do with lillith - her patience, the way she allowed space to exist without demanding it be filled, were often what dacey needed. she trusted her, but she did not trust the ears around them. and so, she saved what it was she held close to her chest, to reveal another time.

she nodded her sympathies. the north was a harsh place, demanding much of those who travelled it. "the weather has been unkind of late. it makes the roads a little more difficult to traverse." she lifted her gaze from the floor, green eyes raising to meet lillith's mismatched ones. "and how fares the vale? ironoaks?" it had been a long time since dacey had visited the mountains of the moon - not once during queen ravella's reign.

"you'd think i'd be used to the cold by now, but it still catches me sometimes," she laughed again, the sound a little lighter now. "the trick isn't to stand by the hearth, but the walls. the hot springs under winterfell provide heat to them, and the stone spreads it." she looked back towards the fire then, watching the flame twist and dance. "but i suppose it is only human to seek out the fire instead."

lillith stood beside the princess, the warmth from the hearth pulling at the edges of her gown, but it did little to thaw the chill that clung to dacey’s frame. it was always the same—no matter how close she stood to the fire, her hands remained cold. lillith could see it, could sense the quiet unease in her friend, and a small part of her wished she could somehow fix it. but she knew better than to offer empty words of comfort.

“i’m glad to see you too,” she murmured softly, her voice barely above the crackling of the fire. she took a small step closer, her presence a quiet reassurance, though she gave dacey space to remain within herself. lillith didn’t need to speak often, not with dacey; they had always shared an unspoken understanding.

when her friend shifted slightly, as if to gather herself, lillith’s gaze softened. she could feel the heaviness in her friend’s silence, the weight that hung just beneath the surface, something too deep to put into words right now. lillith wasn’t one to push, but the concern was there, palpable in the stillness between them.

the other's words, displacing her question for another moment, elicited a nod of understanding, and an offering of a faint smile that was both comforting and respectful of the boundary the other had set. there was no need to press. “of course,” she said quietly. “i’ll wait for the time when you’re ready.” she was always happy to bear the burden, even if unspoken.

her fingers brushed the edge of her gown, the fabric soft beneath her touch. “the journey here... it was long.” she admitted, never quite mincing her words, but her tone was not in any way harsh, simply, it was.

lillith had grown used to the chill, even in the colder months of ironoaks, where the wind could howl across the moors. still, it was a different kind of cold here—more biting, more oppressive. she could feel it in her bones, no matter how close she got to the fire, and she knew dacey felt it too, despite growing within this place. "the chill makes one want to simply leap into the hearth, huh?"

"i had to try," she protested, though in jest. she shook her head. "i would not have taken your coin from you, though, mask or no." there was not an inch of dacey that was competitive in that manner, and aleks knew her well enough to know as much about her. A glance at his face told her that her assessment was correct, and her choice of game was up his alley. "Of course you're strong," a half-grin appeared on her face, and she folded her arms across her chest as she stood to watch. "I might have a turn next, so try your best. Wouldn't want me showing you up." The idea was laughable. If there was one thing Dacey was not capable of, it was feats of physical strength.

His eyes narrowed behind the mask, and a chortle passed over his lips. "I know what you're doin' there, princess." Aleksander patted her hand as Dacey's arm looped through his. "I doubt you are in need of my coin, though." They strolled through the festival games, looking at them with unbridled curiosity. His lips parted, formed a silent o as she pointed to a game that tested strength. A lopsided grin built on his lips. "I'm flattered you think of me as strong, Dacey. Perhaps it's time to prove you right." He disentangled their arms and walked towards the built game, positioning himself so he could wrap his fingers around the crank.

dacey's steps fell into line with naelys', half a pace behind as she followed. there was a careful way to the way the lady velaryon moved, a tension in her frame, the way her hands clasped as though to hold herself into place, that was all too familiar, like looking at a mirror of herself, and all the times she had tried to shrink herself in the background, unwilling to take up too much space. she longed to offer some reassurances, but her own nerves snared the words in her throat. the last thing she wanted to be was too much, too eager.

"neither did i," she admitted. "that is my own fault. it is only recently that i have felt..." she paused for a moment, trying to grasp for the right words. "comfortable enough to leave the north, i suppose." there was a world outside of winterfell, and dacey was like an infant, taking her first steps out into it. for naelys it was different, she knew. life had taken her across the seas, to braavos as well as these shores. dacey had wondered if her letters were boring, in comparison. "but i am glad that we have." she added.

naelys' next words came so quietly that they would have been easy to miss, but dacey did not. a frown crossed her face - not one of anger, or the disappointment that naelys spoke of, but of disbelief, and a denial that it was true. if anything, it was naelys that should be disappointed. dacey knew she did not cut much of a figure, mousy and quiet as she was. "you could never disappoint me, naelys." her voice was firm, but lost none of its warmth, its tenderness. "the thought hadn't even crossed my mind."

but the more she thought about it, the more she understood. was she not worried herself that in the flesh, she could not match up to words written on a page, those she had given thought to curating and ensuring they were perfect? that she had somehow deceived naelys by presenting a version of herself that she was not? or that the opposite was true, that she had shown her too much, allowed too much of herself to be seen, even the parts that were hard to like? "i know how much we shared in our letters. for me, it almost felt like bearing my soul to you. but you never judged me, and i never judged you. i don't think either of us are about to start now." she paused, as though waiting for naelys to confirm or deny it, to give her an opportunity to correct her if she was wrong.

there was a time where naelys could have been her sister. it wasn't to be, but the idea they had found some sort of sorority within one another regardless struck a deeper chord than dacey had expected. "i would have been honoured to call you a sister," it was a statement meant truthfully. "you have been there for me in a way that not many people have been, even when you did not have to be. i'll never forget that." was she gushing? it felt like she was gushing, being over-effusive. desperate.

they must have been nearing the godswood. the noise of the city was falling away, cobbled streets replaced by something nature had half-reclaimed. it was not quite the domain of the old gods, but it was closer to it. "it's funny. sometimes, when i went to pray, i'd find myself thinking about what i might say to you, the next time i sat down to write." now, naelys would be standing there beside her. it only felt right.

¿

naelys clasped her hands tightly in front of her, the silk of her sleeves cool against her skin. her heart was racing, every beat loud and frantic, echoing in her ears as she stood there. dacey stark. the woman she had known so intimately through letters but had never expected to meet in the flesh. and now here she was, tall and steady, with a presence that made naelys feel even smaller than usual. how many times had she thought of this moment? and yet, now that it was here, she found herself paralyzed, unsure of what to say or do.

her gaze flickered downward. her slippers felt rooted to the ground, her body caught between wanting to move closer and wanting to flee. she felt like glass, as she so often did—fragile, thin, ready to splinter at the slightest shift. she could feel the weight of her own awkwardness pressing down on her, threatening to smother her words before they even reached her lips.

“i…” her voice came out faint, almost swallowed by the sounds of the city around them. she tried again, forcing her tone to steady, though the effort made her throat tighten. “i didn’t think we would ever meet,” she managed at last, her hands twisting together. “it’s… strange. but good.” she glanced up briefly, then down again. “better than i imagined, though i hardly know what to do with myself now.”

she paused, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of dacey. it wasn’t just her height or the way she carried herself—confident but not unkind—it was the familiarity of her. naelys had poured so much of herself into those letters, her thoughts, her fears, her quiet joys, and now all of that felt exposed, like an open book standing in front of its author. “i hope i don’t disappoint you,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if dacey heard. her cheeks burned at the thought of how small her voice must have sounded.

“in person, i mean. i know i must seem…” she trailed off, unable to finish. fragile? weak? all the things people had always whispered about her? she didn’t want to know if dacey thought the same. her fingers fluttered toward her side, an aborted motion she wasn’t even sure she intended. “we could walk,” she said, quieter still, her voice barely more than a breath. “to the godswood. if you like. it’s quiet there. i think i would… like that. and you can pray.” she dared a glance toward dacey again, her heart still hammering against her ribs.

she began to move before she could think better of it, her steps cautious but deliberate. the air felt thinner now, and she was painfully aware of every breath she took. her hands trembled slightly at her sides, though she tried to still them by clasping them once more. “you… were a friend to me. almost a sister, really.” she said softly, the words coming unbidden as she referred to the time where it was once thought the glass seahorse would be sent north to wed adam stark. but such a thought filled her with such dread, such loneliness - even if they were the most approachable and warm people she had ever met.

“when i needed one most. i wanted you to know that.” her throat tightened, but this time it wasn’t with nerves. “thank you.”

westerlands attire

dacey dresses with the exact opposite intention of standing out or making a statement. her clothing is chosen to help her blend in, not make a scene, and not be noticed. just nice enough that people aren't going to say she looks bad, but not remarkable enough to comment on.

she favours darker colours, but never black. greys, deep blues, burgundy and forest greens are common colours in her attire.