The Offer Of Tea Should Not Have Come As A Surprise To Dacey. For As Long As She Had Known Lillith, She

closed starter for @intothewylde

the day was warm and pleasant, the sun bathing the hill of the lion's tor in light. it was one of the few places in the west dacey had been eager to see, and the first chance she had to get there. the old gods had little power in the south, and she felt that doubly so in the westerlands. even the weirwood that stood in the casterly rock godswood left her with the feeling of confinement, as though those twisting roots would wrap around her and squeeze.

but here was a place removed from the splendour of the west, its legends speaking of the children of the forest and the first men who worshipped as she did. here there was a little more ease, and for a moment, dacey almost felt at peace.

she was crouched before a patch of flowers, a book and a basket next to her. the basket she had filled with plants and herbs she had already collecting, growing wild on the hillside. the book, she lafed through, comparing each illustration to the buds before her, trying to identify them to little avail.

she was not the only one here. there was another, one dacey had given an awkward smile and bob of her head, but largely left to their own devices, as he had her. he seemed to be interested in the local flora, too. perhaps he would have answers for her? she turned to look at him, cleared her throat, and called out.

"excuse me, my lord?" dacey's voice was quiet, but it carried across the hillside. he would have heard her. "by any chance, do you happen to know what this is called?" she gestured to the plant, but did not touch it. "i don't want to pick it up until i know its name," she explained.

Elizabeth Olsen as Wanda Maximoff WANDAVISION | Season 1 Episode 9

if there was one thing dacey was completely certain of, it was cassana's strength. where dacey had little, her sister, her baby sister, possessed it in spades. dacey had faltered so many times, crumbled under the slightest amount of pressure, but cassana had always stood proud and unyielding. it broke her heart to see her like this, but she understood it inherently.

"cass," there was something firm in her voice, an indication that what she was about to say was not to be argued with. "there is no apology needed. i was already awake, and you are welcome company." she paused, hesitating for a moment. "and even if i was, it doesn't matter. you can come to me no matter the hour." there was a gentle earnestness to her tone, an open invitation to seek dacey's door whenever it was needed.

a distraction. it was an easy enough to propose, but now the prospect of actually doing the distracting was before her, it was difficult to think exactly what she could do to provide relief from all Cass had been through. She absent-mindedly ran her fingers through Cass' hair, chuckling when she felt a knot towards the ends. "Your hair is all tangled," she couldn't help but chuckle as she spoke the words. "would you like me to fix it for you?"

.

cass closed her eyes, surrendering to the embrace of her sister's arms, finding comfort in their warmth and familiarity. though she was the youngest among them, she rarely sought such comfort from her siblings. she prided herself on her resilience, her ability to remain steadfast in the face of adversity that they always seemed to face. she was a wolf. a stark. yet, despite her efforts to maintain composure, she found herself crumbling beneath the weight of her emotions. why was this particular moment so different? why did she struggle to maintain her facade of strength? it was stupid, she was stupid for feeling this way.

a surge of guilt and embarrassment flooded through her, prompting a hasty apology. "i'm sorry, dacey. i shouldn't have woken you up," she murmured, attempting to dismiss how she was feeling.. but even as she spoke, she made no move to break free from her sister's embrace. her words felt feeble, even her lie felt stupid.

"perhaps a distraction would be good." cass suggested, her voice resonating softly in the darkness. something to help get her mind off of things, make her believe she wasnt being foolish. that the darkness didn’t suddenly frighten her.

Willow making the decision to marry Robert

@asoiafsnet ‘s stark appreciation week

“the winters are hard, but the starks will endure. we always have.”

the sense of unease that had been dacey's constant companion in recent days was multiplied tenfold in the west. at least in the north, there were only her own people to face, and all the comforts at home that allowed her to do what she did best and retreat into herself when things were overwhelming, despite the attempts she was making to break the habits of a lifetime.

but here, there was nowhere to hide, and so she was forced to face the seven kingdoms and dorne with her head held as high as her neck would allow, and hope the sense of propriety that seemed to permeate the very foundations of casterly rock had some influence in stilling the tongues of those who would ask about her sisters' whereabouts, for she did not think her own courtly mask would remain fixed if they should.

anya's appearance had an unmistakeable relief flood through her features. she would not claim to know her well, but she knew her and liked her, and more than that, here she was something familiar. had they been in winterfell, she might have made a subtle step towards removing the barriers of formality between them, as she so often did. it felt like the walls had ears. "lady yuan," despite her unease, her smile was genuine, though it soon faded, replaced with something akin to concern. "are you alright? how are you settling in?" it sounded like small talk, but there was an undercurrent to her words. here, they carried more weight.

Closed starter for @daceystvrk Setting: Casterly Rock, the Westerlands. Little after the Northern court arrived in the West.

Anya had become accustomed to not display her doubts or her insecurities. As she grew up, remaining steady, appearing unfazed, untouchable, was almost a way of continuing to survive. Her unshakable demeanor was the only shield a lowborn bastard could hold. It remained second nature to her, even if her circumstances had drastically changed. And so here, in the court of the West, she could not find the words or who to confide in about the utter sense of being ill-fitting with every other noble around.

It was different than it was in the North. The court of the West appeared to have a heightened sense of elegance and propriety that Anya had not seen elsewhere. In the North, she'd earned her place. Here, she felt she was being seen as someone merely wearing the costume of a lady. She didn't even know if others thought that or not. She should not care, but she did. The raven-haired lady did not wish to embarrass the king or the North as a whole for any missteps, for failing to know what others at court knew from birth.

The Yuan lady walked next to the Northern retinue when they arrived at Casterly Rock, and was later led to the area of the keep where they would be hosted. Anya noted that her chambers were only a few doors away from where Dacey and Cassana would be, which was somewhat of a relief. In fact, after settling in and unpacking, she ran into the middle Stark princess as she was leaving her room. “Your highness,” she greeted with a polite nod.

even on her best days, dacey retreated in on herself in a crowd, and today was not one of her better days. even in winterfell, it was a struggle to pull herself from her isolation, and doubly so when she was in a place that did not offer the comfort of home. there was an undeniable sort of joy in the air, and while it warmed her heart to witness it, she remained on the outskirts regardless, witnessing the merriment, but never quite a part of it.

even if she had been at her brightest, had been able to make herself mingle in the crowds, the competitions would have held little interest for dacey, save for one name on the lists. her cousin's skill was well known, and here was her opportunity to see it in action. so she had braved the crowd, finding herself a spot to watch as lucius did what he did best. even with her limited knowledge on such matters, all she knew coming from watching starks stronger than she train in winterfell's courtyard, there was no denying his ability, and when he was declared the winner, she genuinely felt a little proud of him as she joined in the applause.

she did not expect him to spot her, nor to approach her, but she smiled when he did, the tense set of her shoulders relaxing a little in the company of someone she was more familiar with. "and to you," she greeted him back. she did not want to butcher the traditional phrase, to embarrass herself by stumbling over words that she was unfamiliar with, instead opting to sidestep the issue. "your title is safe another day, though i don't think that was in doubt." even with her inexpert perspective, it did not look like a particularly close contest to dacey.

Closed starter for @daceystvrk Setting: Following the end of the archery competition, Lucius runs into the Stark princess.

The bastard had earned the grim moniker of Red Rivers because of how many men's lives ended every time he nocked an arrow to his bowstring during the war. With an archery competition taking place as part of the activities for the Litha festival, it was only right that he defended his renowned skill —his title as one of the best there ever was—, even more so in his homeland.

There were very skilled archers he competed against in the tournament, making him work for it, but in the end, Lucius Rivers did emerge as the undisputed champion. There was prize money to be earned, but it was the recognition that the bastard of Raventree Hall truly savored. The reverence, the fear, and not born out of a name or noble title but because of what he was capable of doing.

The giving of the prizes for the archery competition and other disciplines in the open tourney ended, and that was when he spotted the familiar figure of the Northern princess. She brought her hands together for some subtle clapping as he walked towards his cousin. “Well, I had to defend my title, didn't I?” he said as a form of greeting before he offered a respectful bow for Dacey. “Beannaithe Litha,” Blessed Litha, he said then, which he didn't actually wish to any save a select few.

"a fresh start, then." it felt odd to offer a fresh start to a man who she barely knew, who aside from shared grandparents was essentially a blank slate, but dacey was glad to offer it. there was no offence to be taken by either party, no perceived snub to try and overcome. she did not know, if a familial connection was what she was looking for, if she'd find that in lucius rivers, but she also knew that it would not sit right with her to overlook his existence. the circumstances of his birth did not alter the fact she shared just as much blood with him as with any of his siblings.

his words were coarse, but dacey laughed anyway. "it was something," she found herself agreeing. "it couldn't end soon enough. i was more than glad to take my leave of it." it had been too hot, too smelly, too much of everything for dacey, too used to the quiet of winter and her own company.

"i'm sure they would, and i'm very grateful for it, but i hope not to intrude too long." this was a necessary stopover, not a planned visit, and she could not help but think that her presence was more of a burden than a pleasure. "does it please you?" she did not know where the question came from, but it had spilled from her lips before she could bite it back.

Lucius Rivers was bound by blood to House Stark, and yet he had nowhere near as close a bond to them as his brother and sisters did. Some of the Stark pups had been fostered in the Riverlands, some made it a point to spend time in the company of their kin, but the bastard of Raventree Hall had never engaged enough to feel a true familial bond if he were honest.

Dacey Stark was much too fragile in his mind, a quiet and reserved young woman who lacked the grit he'd seen in other Northern folk. Her company wasn't disagreeable, though, if only because she was one of the few who regarded him as she were regarding any other of the true-blooded Blackwoods. “No apology is needed. I did not seek your company or that of your siblings while in King's Landing, so that makes us even,” the Riverlander stated plainly. “That fucking place was a nightmare,” he found himself agreeing in less cordial language than Dacey's. Fuck diplomacy now, there was no lizard king or lords to offend in earshot.

“You're welcome to visit anytime you like, Dacey. I'm sure Ben and Maggie would gladly welcome you anytime you wished to visit,” the man assured her, for it was his brother and sister who made all the choices about their house, not the hag who clung to the title of Lady of Raventree Hall. “Or if you hope to extend this visit. It pleases them to have cousins around”.

tarot card pull

the past - the king of swords, reversed

appearance and symbolism

a king sits on his throne while holding a double-edged sword that points upwards in his right hand

the blue tunic that the king wears is a symbol of his spiritual understanding

the butterflies on the back of his throne are indicative of transformation

the king of swords radiates intellectual power, clear thinking, truth, and authority

card meaning

in reverse, the king of swords can show shows tyrannical, abusive and manipulative habits

it may indicate the misuse of one’s mental power, drive, and authority

if the king of swords appears reversed, he is encouraging you to challenge your assumptions and beliefs

the butterflies on his throne now appears at the base of the card, signifying the process of discarding outdated, self-limiting thinking

this card can also suggest that intelligence and discernment is not being used to their fullest potential and important information that could help overcome obstacles or move forward is missing

he challenges you to resist the temptation to fall back into old, rigid ways of thinking that limit growth and possibilities

the present - the knight of cups

appearance and symbolism

the card which depicts a young knight who is gloriously riding a white horse while at the same time holding a cup as if he is a messenger of a certain sort

he is moving slowly forward which provides the entire setting an overall impression of peace and calmness

the horse is known to represent one's drive, energy, and power

the horse's colour is white, which is a well-known symbol of spirituality, light, and purity

he wears the wings of hermes, the messenger god, on his helm and his feet, and fish decorate his tunic, symbolising his ability to communicate clearly about deep unconscious feelings that can be difficult for others to put into words.

card meaning

the knight of cups is the most feminine amongst all the knight cards in the tarot, but it's important to note though, that this doesn’t even slightly suggest that he is any less of a worthy knight, but implies that he is in proper touch with his emotions and his intuition, and that he uses them for his own well-being and during his romantic quests

when faced with a decision, the knight of cups is going to listen to his heart, regardless of whether this is actually a logical choice or not

he appears as a messenger – and with him, he carries an invitation or an arrival of something or someone which is going to have a certain emotional benefit

as a knight, he is also charged with taking the gifts of his suit, and bringing it outward into the world - therefore can also represent the undertaking of some project with significant emotional or creative value

the knight of cups is the tarot’s brave messenger of love, who can communicate his deepest feelings without fear or embarrassment

he represents all forms of love: romantic, passionate, platonic and familial, and reminds those who believe they are alone that they are connected, valuable, loved, and accepted

the knight of cups appears when it’s time to be emotionally courageous

he teaches that communication about feelings heals isolation and confusion - the more difficult the subject, the more healing to be gained from talking about it

the knight of cups is eternally optimistic that the future will be brighter than times before, and knows that the heart is not as fragile as it pretends to be

the future - the sun, reversed

appearance and symbolism

the sun is the source of all the life on our planet, and it represents life energy itself

there is a child depicted in the card, playing joyfully in the foreground - a symbol of our innocence, it represents the happiness that occurs when there is alignment with the true self

the child is naked, meaning that he has absolutely nothing to hide

the card also depicts the childhood innocence and absolute purity - emphasised through the white horse upon which the child is riding

the horse here is also a symbol of strength and nobility

the Sun is the most powerful card in the deck, representing triumph, positivity, and things generally falling into place as they should

card meaning

in the reversed position, the sun indicate significant difficulties finding positive aspects to certain situations, with clouds blocking out the warmth and light needed to progress

it may also indicated an unrealistic outlook, or overly optimistic perception of certain situations

however, it could possibly show that despite setbacks, things may be beginning to brighten

the horse on the card is a reminder that any assistance required to get to the next place in life is out there, and will arrive just when it is needed

even when the sun is hidden behind clouds, it always reappears, and even when darkness engulfs the world every night, the sun promises to return with the dawn - it is a universal truth that light will always resurface, even after the darkest moments

dacey's palm was flat against the stone, long, thin fingers red from the cold and where the skin had been picked and peeled around the beds of her nails. the starks were of the old gods; they believed that their nameless deities watched them through the trees, spoke to them through the whisper of the winds and rustle of the leaves and rush of the streams, but in the stones lay the history of man, of the ancestors whose blood persisted in their veins.

these walls had stood for thousands of years, raised by brandon the builder, seen the celebrations when the barrow kings and red kings and marsh kings had fallen to the kings of winter. they had seen the andals beaten back to the south and the wildlings back to the north, had seen the king who knelt and the end of the kings of the north, and had seen them rise once more from the dragon's ashes. they had seen starks born and die and born and die, over and over, and would go on doing so for as long as the sun continued to rise and set.

in between those moments, the ones preserved in the pages of history books, the walls had seen other things, the day to day living that had been lost to time. it was there that dacey's mind turned now, to a girl and a girl and a boy and the three wolves that shadowed them, long enough ago to become memory, not yet long enough to be lost.

"you fell from there, once," her voice was gentle and fond, her breath escaping her lips in small puffs that lingered in the air in a misty cloud. "and you landed on my snowman." it had been one of the first snows of the year. the snow was fresh, soft and powdery, which had been cyrene's good fortune. it had not yet compacted and turned to ice, and so, she had popped out of the pile that had once been dacey's work of art without a scratch.

she withdrew her hand from the wall, brushing it daintily against her furs to rid it of any dirt. "i wasn't going to climb it." it was a reversal from how things had been when cyrene had left for the riverlands, a wild and wilful girl who had balked at nothing, so much so that dacey had wondered if her sister had been born without fear. then, it had been dacey who had called words of caution. that cyrene would be halfway up the wall by now, responding to dacey's warnings with nothing but a laugh.

but things changed. the world changed, and they changed with it. in cyrene, the change was more pronounced than dacey could have ever imagined. but then, the years had not been kind to their kin. distance had not saved cyrene from grief and heartache. dacey did not know how to be with this new sister, who wore the face of the old. not yet.

"there isn't enough snow at the moment. to catch me if i fell."

who: @daceystvrk where: at winterfell when cyrene arrives home for the first time in years

There were notches in the outer walls. Always had been, always would be. Cyrene found at least some comfort that things in Winterfell would never change. The people who lived within the walls would. Death haunted the halls, but the years did as well. She'd already seen many who had survived the wars that lay in the past, but they had not come out of it unchanged.

Neither had she.

"Don't climb that," she spoke, voice pragmatic and clipped, "That cannot end well."