Kingarryn​:​

ravellaarryns​:

.

         “I CAN IMAGINE IT WOULD BE PEACEFUL AMONGST THE DEAD.”  her comment was casual; a sly indication to her dark sense of humour, referencing to the barren lands surrounding the harsh, ancient beauty of winterfell. it was a quiet place, away from the bustling of a city and much further north than most southerners would visit lest on route to castle black at the wall. there was beauty in isolation; whether it were atop the highest mountain within the mountains of the moon, or within the cold white landscape of the rugged north. ravella of house arryn found the most peace in order and routine; in knowing what to expect and remaining steadfast to the traditions the arryns had followed for thousands of years. 

after all; the andals invasion of westeros had started with the vale of arryn; her own bloodline tracing back to the andals rather than the wilderness of the first men. she thought the reason the arryns had held onto their grip on power for so long was their understanding of their people, their landscape, and their traditions; there was safety in sticking to what one knows. and for the vale, it was military warfare and knighthood being used solely within the vale of arryn; historically at least. since the dance of dragons, her family had spilled vale blood for outsiders; just as most of westeros had done - and yet it were the first in a long history for the vale of arryn.

there had always been something different about rowan; his mindset, his opinions, his view that differed greatly from the way alfrid arryn had taught the rest of his children. it was something she resigned herself to ignoring; for she knew him to be steadfast in his pursuit of fulfilling duty, as they all were. he was her brother, he was her king; she would never dare to question him before their subjects, for then she would be questioning her blood and her own line. and now? there was different, and then there was being poles apart from what she thought she knew of rowan arryn. even rhys admitting his secret was less of a shock than what had been brought upon the family; a shadow, and a lion’s roar.

“i couldn’t send a raven - for fear of it being read by the wrong eyes. it stays between us, rosalyn. not even your husband can know yet, as he hasn’t informed any of our allies.” would they have allies after this move? how could they consider them allies, when their own king married into the enemy? “it seems the king decided to gift us a lannister queen; for love, as he supposedly says. he eloped.”

.

this moment felt familiar to the new northern queen. the two sisters huddled together in secret. during the war it felt like the two of them worked quietly behind the scenes to ensure everything was going to be alright. secrets whispered between them of everything they knew or what they had found out from their brothers. in that time it felt like all she could trust was her family. even to this day some of the secrets shared in that room had stayed between the two of them. only to be uttered to themselves. this would be a new secret to add to it all. but now it felt strange to have to keep it from her new growing family. rodrik would understand though, she hoped he would.

ravella’s words struck rosa harder than she expected it to. part of her knew that if ravella couldn’t send a raven then it must be important. but she never expected this.

a lannister queen? how could that even be possible? a flicker of a memory came back to her in that moment. her wedding. the night was so full of laughter and happiness that the small memory had been buried somewhere within her mind. but she remember it now. the small fleeting moment between her brother and gwen. it was only a small moment she caught before she was pulled away. but it was a look. had she missed those moments all along? were they right in front of them all but they were too busy to see it. and did that make her a bad sister for not seeing something that could make her own brother so happy? “they must really love one another” her voice quiet. “why else would he do something like this? risk so much if it wasn’t for love.” like a story in one of her books. “how could he not tell us of his plans though….”

TRUTH SERUM

feel free to ask anything, in character or anonymously, and my character will be forced to answer truthfully.

rosa || mellara || ophelia || morra || harlon || theo ||

anya-snow​:

Location: The North, Winterfell Closed starter for @rosaaaryn​

After the meeting, Anya remained within the chambers of the council to discuss some matters regarding the trading alliance with Yi Ti. King Theon and his trusted knight, Ren, went over some of the details of beginning to send Northern soldiers to the regions of Wan and Shizi as had been agreed. In turn, the blacksmith turned representative for the merchant’s guild and liaison to the free regions of the Golden Empire had informed them both of the upcoming visit from her father and her uncle. Jinhai in particular was someone she knew the Winter King might wish to meet, as her dear uncle was the current head of one of the richest, most influential guilds in Wan. A powerful man in Yi Ti as a whole.

Exiting the council chambers, Anya was greeted by familiar wintry air. Over her warm coat, the raven-haired woman wore a jade green cloak with embroidery of golden thread made from one of the rolls of silk her uncle gifted her on his last visit. Dahlia had sewn it for her a while back but now that the king had legitimized her in Westeros, it felt right to finally wear it. Let there be no doubt that she was proud of her ancestry and the links that tied her to her father’s family.

She walked across the courtyard of Winterfell and stopped to look over her shoulder when her name was called. “Your grace,” the blacksmith said, seeing the Queen in the North. There was evident respect in her tone and as Anya approached the redheaded queen, she also offered a polite bow of her head. “How may I help you?”.

.

a sense of calm had rested over winterfell since everyone had returned from the fighting. it felt like all of them could breath once more. there was no more waiting for a messenger to bring the starks terrible news of a loss of one of their own. it felt like now they could start again to focus on what was most important, which was building up the north to be the best it could be.

there were many tasks of being a queen that rosa had found herself settling into rather well. but the biggest piece of advice that had been given to her was to surround herself with friends in her court. ladies who were smart, and clever, and represented all sides of what being a northern woman could be. there was one woman who had impressed the queen at every opportunity presented to her.

“anya!” rosalyn called out to the blacksmith as she spotted her heading out of the meeting. “i hope i have not caught you at a bad time. i was hoping you could come for a little walk with me, i wanted to ask you something.” she smiled. “although it should be inside or else i think the wisdoms will throw a fit given, well…” she said motioning to her stomach which was growing more and more each day. 

heading back into the relative warmth of the castle, she waited for the other to join her. “how are you enjoying your new position so far? i know everyone is excited to see what new opportunities are ahead of us now with bringing in new ties to the north.” the queen said. “i believe the king and i share a vision for what new people could be brought into the north and find their home here. there are opportunities for people to move beyond where they have begun….i believe that is important”

letter sent to @ravellaarryns after a few weeks after fighting breaks out

dear sister,

i have missed you terribly since my visit back home to the eyire. it warmed my heart to see you once again and i hope i will be able to visit you again soon. please give my love to graham as well, it was wonderful to see him and i am so happy for the two of you. i know i said it about a dozen times when i saw you in person but i know in my heart you will be an amazing queen. i am so proud of you.

there is some slight unfortunate news upon returning back to the north. it seems not even us could escape the trouble in the iron islands. some of the escaped men have found their way into our woods and have joined forces with the thenns. theon and the others have left to deal with the issue. 

however with bad news come some good news. a week after theon left to fight i discovered i may be with child. the midwives here have confirmed it and they believe it may be more than one. but it is still too early to tell for sure. i have yet to tell my husband yet as i am afraid it may be a distraction while he is fighting. but i am in good hands and being well protected and taken care of. i wanted you to know as quickly as i could tell you.

i love you so much. and eddie says the same.

your loving sister,

rosa

it was clear the wedding party was going to go deep into the night. it seemed like everyone was ready for a night of drinking and partying before what was going to lie ahead of them. and while rosalyn had enjoyed her time of merriment with everyone else, she was also happy to sneak away for a bit. holding onto the arm of her now husband the two of them walked the halls of the castle. butterflies filling her stomach once more as they walked alone together. no more need of a chaperon to keep a watchful eye on the couple. they were married which afforded them a little more privacy, which was both relieving but also caused the butterflies to flutter in her stomach. "did you have a nice time?" the now queen asked as they walked together. "i know it was more of a southern wedding but i hope you still enjoyed yourself."

@rodrikofwinter​

within the library of barrowhall, the ever-growing shape of rosalyn stark darted around the room. probably much to the chagrin of her lady maids who do desperately wanted her to just sit and relax in her state. but how could one relax when there were people missing within her kingdom. she was the new queen here wasn't it her duty to help? she could not hold a sword, she could not travel into the freezing temperatures of the north. but what she could do, is her research.

in front of her dozens of books and maps were laid out. pages of notes were quickly being written by her as she looked over everything she could. if these people were holding so many people captive surely they would need a big place to hold them? and that somewhere would need to be isolated. and maybe somewhere there would be a record of a place like that, or maybe a mention in notes of a tax collector or traveler. ink stain fingers continued to furiously take notes when she heard the sound of someone entering the library. brandon karstark, a dear friend of her husbands and to the stark family in general. infact she had learned the two families considered themselves family. which meant he was now hers as well. the kindness he had shown to her in her first days of the north was something she was sure she would never forget. "lord brandon." she said starting to stand up from her seat. "forgive me i did not see you there. is everything alright? did you need something?"

@wintervsuns​

a q u e e n ' s c h o i c e

in the dimly lit chamber, heavy with the weight of anticipation the wisdom’'s voice bore the burden of grief as he delivered the dire news to the king of the north. “only one of them can most likely live your highness. i’m so sorry.”  throughout the evening, the stone walls of the castle reverberated with anguished cries, marking the onset of labor for the next child of house stark. but this time, the arrival was fraught with unforeseen complications. owen, somber and resolute, settled by his wife's side, his hand seeking hers in a silent gesture of solidarity. together, they listened as the sage relayed the harrowing choice that lay before them: the life of the queen or that of their unborn child. in a heartbeat, rosalyn, with unwavering resolve, voiced her decision. her gaze met owen's, her eyes a reflection of unwavering maternal love and sacrifice. "our child, owen. we must choose our child," she declared, her words bearing the weight of an unimaginable sacrifice. rosalyn knew the risks of what she choice. what it meant to have them focusing on saving the childs life. but she would willingly surrender her own life a thousand times over to safeguard the future of her children. if it meant they had a chance. she had known the risks everytime she laid down in the birthing bed. every woman did. and so she choice their child. with a heavy heart, rosalyn embraced the risk inherent in her decision, knowing full well the perilous path ahead. yet, she harbored no hesitation, for she would willingly surrender her own life a thousand times over to safeguard the future of her offspring. as their children were ushered into the room, rosalyn savored a fleeting moment to shower them with kisses, her heart heavy with the bittersweet knowledge that these may be her last embraces. alone with her husband in the quiet before the storm, rosalyn clutched owen's hand tightly, her tear-filled eyes. "don't let them forget me, promise me. please," she implored, her voice choked with emotion. "i won't. i promise you, they will not forget you," owen vowed, his own grief mirroring hers. even he knew the likely outcome of this. grasping onto the flickering flame of hope amidst the encroaching darkness, she spoke quietly to her husband "you are a good man, owen stark. you have a good soul. you doubt yourself i know you do…" she whispered, her voice trembling with conviction. "promise me you won't lose that." rosa could swear she saw a tear moving down his cheek, “i wont.” he promised, his voice tight. quiet and solumn as he made his promise. and so, as the night wore on and the castle fell into a hushed stillness, the cries of a newborn babe pierced the air, a beacon of life amidst the shroud of sorrow. the child was saved, but queen rosalyn was lost to them, her sacrifice felt by all those around her. the child that survived has been named rosalyn jeyne stark. a baby with red hair like her mothers. queen rosalyn will be buried in the crypts of the north, in the customs of the land she had gotten to embrace and call her own. @owenstark

.

in the shadows of war the eyrie had stood tall and stoic during the dance, its craggy peaks a fortress against the fighting. yet, for rosa, it had been a haven, shielding her from the grim realities of what war brought to many people. now, the landscape had shifted. no longer hidden  seclusion of her mountainous refuge, she stood amidst the chos, a queen bearing witness to the all of it.

the weight of responsibility pressed upon her but one she would not cast aside. she was a queen, entrusted with lives to safeguard, their hopes and fears mirrored in her gaze. no longer could she shy away, for she had owen's trust and right now that was more important than anything.

amidst the whirlwind of activity, she moved with a grace born of purpose. conversations flowed like a river, each word a bridge to understanding thechallenges that confronted her realm. the influx of refugees into winterfell, demanded her attention. yet, she navigated this sea of concerns with the steady helm of a leader.

her exchanges with some of the elder lords had concluded just as xia-li's voice resonated through the air along with the promise of a moment's rest with her lady in waiting. "of course," rosa affirmed, placing a gentle hand on the ladies shoulder to lead them to a more private area. in xia-li, she found not only a confidante but a vital advisor. her ladies in waiting  were more than attendants; they were the pillars of her inner court. her friends, her adviors her confidons. 

"thank you," she responded, her hands signing along to her words as she spoke. "i will plan to meet with them soon. there will be much to discuss. you're welcome to accompany me later. your insights on the arrivals from fir hold are invaluable. i trust in your judgment."

𖥸 starter for @rosaaaryn, set in winterfell during relief efforts 𖥸

shes been here before. the sense of urgency, anxiety, and uncertainty that comes with times of war. xia-li was much younger when the dance began. a wide-eyed adolescent, who knew nothing of the threats loomimg in darkened skies. she'd lived her life in a rose-colored bubble for so long that when conflict struck the north, she could hardly make sense of the chaos that had ensued. shouldnt she be more prepared now that shes a woman grown? she's been here before. so why does she feel as shaken as she did then?

time to dwell on personal afflictions is few and far between for the lady of fir hold. there are refugees to tend to, people whose own fears far outweighed the ones that keep her hands in a subtle shake and a queen that depends on her help to comfort them. "your grace, a word if i may?" the ladys request is rushed, but she still feels relief in rosalyns presence. a particular picture had been painted for her of what a lady-in-waiting should be, one burned into her memory by parents and siblings alike. she was fully prepared to put on the same facade that she was forced to adorn when in the presence of her peers. that was until the discovery that her queen preferred who she truly was to the mask she'd broken and pieced back together so many times that it was nearly unrecognizable. she feels like herself in winterfell, she feels at home.

"your audience is requested to address the influx of refugees arriving. most of them have been placed and fed, but his graces men need guidance with their rationing."

in the embrace of the hearth, amidst the flickering flames, her father's scornful words echoed like a haunting melody—etched into her mind like a searing brand. 

“warm his bed, have his children and stay silent. that is all that is needed from you in your marriage, rosalyn. anything more than that and you may risk embarrassing us all again.”

rosalyn, burdened by the fear that these words would never truly vanish, knew her role well as a wife in this land of nobility. yet, her life had taken a different course than the prescribed fate. her husband, a man unlike any she had known before, saw beyond those confines, yearning for her voice, thoughts, and emotions.

the weight of responsibility now rested upon her shoulders, and she felt a mix of trepidation and determination as she prepared to lead the kingdom alone, without a fellow stark by her side. only a month after the birthing bed, she was called upon to assume this new mantle of authority. yet, her husband's unwavering faith in her, the trust he placed in his wife—an arryn, an outsider— or had it become she was an outsider to the lands of the vale. perhaps the snow and ice had hardened her skin.

"it is an honor to be the stark in winterfell," she declared, absorbing the magnitude of her new station. "i won’t let you down; i vow to prove myself worthy. when we return to winterfell, i will ensure there is ample space for those seeking refuge."

with their child in his tender embrace, she found solace and strength, witnessing his loving care for brandon, as well as his affectionate she had seen for edric and ravella. his kindness extended beyond his own family to encompass her as well, granting her a profound sense of gratitude and awe. the blessings she had received exceeded her wildest expectations.

"thank you, owen," she murmured with sincerity,. "thank you for entrusting me with our home. i will strive to be the leader our people deserve."

| a starter for @rosaaaryn​ | | setting: in highgarden before leaving for war |

“You will be the Stark in Winterfell. Edric will be with you and so will our Wisdom. He will guide you in matters of state and decision making. You are the queen of the North and it’s time for all to see you as such. Since the Dance, it was a responsibility to fall on Alys’ shoulders as my twin sister and the eldest girl here it was only fit. This time, you have given birth to Bran and Ravella. It is time. Of course, you will be tired as you recover and that’s where the wisdom will come in. I’ve need for Alys that will keep her far too busy for this.” 

Owen smiled at her, settling comfortably with Brandon in his arms. Another boy. Ravella was sleep and little Bran seemed to always be awake, always looking around. Owen promised he wouldn’t keep waking them so whenever they both were sleep he only woke one which was keeping his promise and on this day, Ravella would sleep. “I’ll leave soon and you’ll heal here with Ravella. Much of our court will return North, some prefer Winterfell, but those who will have need of you will be here until it’s safe for you to come home. At the very least, the neck. Greywater Watch is quite secure as is Moat Cailin.” 

Already planning. Always planning. Rebel. False King and his master. He kissed Bran’s forehead. 

“What say you, my lady wife?” 

location: the welcoming ball, dorne

@starkwhitewolf

a cool breeze blew across the terrace, rusting the pieces of red curls that had escaped her hair style. she wondered if eddard would share in the curly hair she had. he certainly already had the dark color of his father. she’d have to teach him how to properly control it so it didn’t get completely out of control. 

gods even now at a party all she could think of was her son. though she heard it was a common thing for new mothers, especially as they were spending the night away from him. she wondered if he was feeling alright or doing well or giving the maids any trouble at all. maybe she could sneak back. maybe torrhen would be alright without her here? no, no that was silly to think about.

in fact it was nice to get to spend the night together with him without having to run off every moment for their son.

almost like she had summoned him herself she spotted him walking over towards her on the terrace. “i hope you don’t mind i left you speaking with the other lords. it’s far too hot…well everywhere. but at least out here there is a breeze.” she said, closing her eyes for just a moment to enjoy the cool evening air. “are you enjoying the party?”