For Westeros

Keyla had found over the years that she and her dear brother were in equal parts good and bad for each other as influences. Part of being at Casterly Rock meant keeping her more base instincts under control, including any blood lust or eagerness for a fight. After all, it was not the proper time and the moment was approaching. But Karlon's own impulses often served to encourage her own and as a pair, it was far too easy for them to incite each other's excitement to a point that could not be bottled back up. Unable to help the smile of equal roguishness in return, the lady consort dipped her head in subtle agreement. "Always best to be prepared...where shall we begin, brother?"

It was far too much to expect that any anger might have been abated properly since the chaos at Casterly Rock. On one hand, Keyla could not begrudge her cousin his frustration and emotional response, Rowena was as dear to him as Theon was to her. And if someone had harmed her lord husband, her own fury would likely be incalculable. But, these facts did not inherently make it any easier for the raven-haired woman to force down the indignant rage her quick temper sought to bring to surface at being interrogated of such obscene allegations. Fighting every urge to snap in return, the lady consort took a deep breath and shook her head. "I would hope such consideration would never even cross your mind, dear cousin...but as these are trying and despicable times I can be understanding of undue suspicion. The answer is no. We merely sought to protect our own and strike against the false king. I would never intentionally allow harm to come to the people and land that raised me, not without first having my hand forced by treachery."

Keyla allowed herself a quiet but genuine laugh at Rowena's good-natured admission. "I could not hold such a lack of generosity against you even if I wished, for it would be upsettingly hypocritical." She noted with a slightly conspiratorial glint of mischief in her eyes. Certainly, her husband was well up to the task...even if he disliked performing it. "And of course, his loss is ultimately my gain which is a pleasure." At the mention of Marwyn, the raven-haired lady shook her head. "Regretfully I have not been able to enjoy his conversation recently. But I hope to again soon...is there anything in particular I need to hear of?"

location: white harbour status: closed ( @armvredfate ) time: morning, a week or so after the events in the westerlands

Her time at White Harbor had been tense, despite Lady Emilya and her family's utmost hospitality. The lady consort was personally still a bit shocked she hadn't managed to create a hole in the stone of her guest chamber from pacing. Alas, the rock stood strong against even her most intense anxieties and frustrations which was for the best ultimately. The need to do something was undeniable. Keyla had never been built to stand around and wait, even when there was some strategic importance to doing so. The noblewoman had done the best she could to keep her mind and body occupied, training and planning for possible future difficulties but it was not a full proof methodology to be certain. The announcement for Lord Marwyn's visit had finally occupied her total attention, but the trepidation it brought almost made the raven-haired woman long to return to her not total but acceptable preoccupations. Some of this conflicted desire faded when it became apparent her kinsman did not intend to be aloof. Returning the gesture, Keyla smiled and nodded slightly. "It is of the utmost importance to make time for our loved ones when possible, now more than ever." The noblewoman concurred pausing a moment before asking with some tentativeness "How fairs your wife?"

where:  on  the  road,  back  to  the  north

The trip away from Casterly Rock is a multitude more difficult than the travel to reach it ever was for several different reasons. Having to flee in haste, and without her sister-in-law continually weighed heavy on Keyla's mind, body, and spirit. Overseeing the safety of Alarra, her other relatives, and the nobles of the North is all that stood between the lady consort and turning her horse around to charge into bloody resistance until she had no more breath or Gilliane was with them once more. The Stark lady began to notice Lady Karstark's pace start to falter, but did not immediately choose to intervene. When Dacey slowed to a halt, the raven-haired noblewoman urged her horse on until reaching the other steed and its rider. Dismounting smoothly, Keyla surveyed the horse and Karstark noblewoman. "Are you or your mount injured, Lady Karstark? If it is exhaustion, we will find you a seat on the back of another saddle and I can keep hold of the mare."

Keyla could feel in her bones that there were far more Iron Islanders scattered around the ballroom than any Lannister would willingly admit. Although the lady consort held no particular affection for the lion's pride, the acts of violence committed against their hosts could easily be extended to them. Of course, the noblewoman would slit any and all of their throats before allowing her family to come to any harm. Unfortunately the masquerade made her usual standard of vigilance a bit less complete, forcing her to rely more heavily on body language and spoken words with so many features obscured. Hearing a familiar voice approach, Keyla softened her stance slightly and smiled as Karlon greeted her. "In decoration as in politics, the Lannisters rely on gold to hide a multitude of sins." She noted with a disdainful sigh.

The lady consort gave a small nod, signaling a tacit agreement with her companion's perspective. Personally, she had always found more enjoyment in facing down an enemy face to face, able to see every moment build to the realization of their downfall. It was far sweeter. But, Keyla supposed there was something to be said for a more cat and mouse-like hunt for quarry.

House Farwynd was one of the stranger houses in the Iron Islands. There were a dozen stories about their house and he listened to every one of them. No matter what he believed, it was important to know. To him it would be a bonus if they were skin changers. But there hadn't been any word or proof of that in any history he knew. Reyna was one he'd been surprised to see here, to want to take part. But this was momentous and he was glad to have as many people here as he could. "And neither should yours." Holding his glass up to her he held up another golden goblet. "Take something, we've all paid the iron price for it. Drink with me. Enjoy your time."

Mentally, Reyna had prepared herself as best one could to receive any variety of response from her king. But the one she'd perhaps been least expectant of was simple respect and praise, albeit generic in nature. The blonde's smile grew more unrestrained and she accepted with goblet with pleasure. "It would be my honor, your grace." The noblewoman insisted, taking a delicate sip after they properly cheered. Allowing for a moment or two of silence before speaking again in case Sigrin sought to excuse himself to conversation with more important nobles, the Farwynd lady decided she might attempt a small act of bravery. "If I could be so bold as to ask, your grace...what do you seek next for the Iron Islands in use of this newfound power?"

KARLON STARK adorns no jewels just like his wife, caring little for the rules when they ask too much. his attention flits across the ballroom, preparation brimming. but when he passes and catches the sharp eyes of KEYLA STARK, his unease settles. // @armvredfate

Keyla could feel in her bones that there were far more Iron Islanders scattered around the ballroom than any Lannister would willingly admit. Although the lady consort held no particular affection for the lion's pride, the acts of violence committed against their hosts could easily be extended to them. Of course, the noblewoman would slit any and all of their throats before allowing her family to come to any harm. Unfortunately the masquerade made her usual standard of vigilance a bit less complete, forcing her to rely more heavily on body language and spoken words with so many features obscured. Hearing a familiar voice approach, Keyla softened her stance slightly and smiled as Karlon greeted her. "In decoration as in politics, the Lannisters rely on gold to hide a multitude of sins." She noted with a disdainful sigh.

The nervous woman to his left only made him shrug in response. He was not familiar with who she was, but this was a masquerade. The entire point was mystery. Yoren supposed that he should be just as nervous as she was, considering what he just completed only six months prior. Too bad Yoren did not care. "Understandable" he waved vaugely to the dancers in the middle of the ballroom, the third face of the mask facing Reyna while his true face stared forward. "Large dances like these can be intimidating and full of danger" He looked straight at Reyna, trying to place who she was. The accent dictated that Reyna was not from the Westerlands, but Yoren's past of being shy and soft spoken made it difficult for him to properly locate it "You never know who you could be dancing with. An assassin could be standing right beside you in disguise" He revealed his smile, which was the only part of his face not covered "When I throw a ball at Hellholt, I will be sure to avoid hosting masques"

Although the stranger's tone was congenial she couldn't help but feel a shiver begin to run down her spine as he spoke. Did this masked lord know she was among the uninvited guests? His chosen words felt almost too prescient and perfectly specified to belong to someone who was fully unaware a labelled invader was his current conversational companion. Swallowing hard, the Farwynd lady felt even more grateful than before that the majority of her features were concealed. Surely he didn't actually know...no, she couldn't let fear get the better of her and worsen the situation. Instead the noblewoman returned Lord Yoren's observation with a small, polite laugh. "I would look most favorably upon such a decision my lord, for they do pose a plethora of potential complications. Do you enjoy entertaining at Hellholt often?"

emilya dipped her head in amusement. perhaps she should not be surprised that the her friend had reacted with suspicion  —  albeit mischievously ! — for she would have done the same if she was in her shoes. " 'tis genuine, of course. " house manderly does not lack for gold, and emilya was quick to pay the merchant for the onyx ring. " we could not possibly ask for anything in return, what could be more cruel than to demand payment from a helpless child? " there should be more frustration, a slight disappointment in having her friend thinking of her so transactionally. but such was the price to pay in a time of pure paranoia, emilya could not blame her. " do you not have such traditions in the eyrie, my lady? "

Keyla softened slightly, though the now missing tightness in her posture and decreased intensity in her gaze would go unnoticed to most. She had a feeling the perceptive Manderly noble would manage to detect it, though. "I apologize if I insinuated anything to the contrary regarding its legitimacy, Lady Emilya." The lady consort insisted, gently accepting possession of the ring and placing it safely within her outerwear. Inquiry about her homeland simultaneously caused a small pang in the Stark noblewoman's chest and elicited a small smile. "We do seek to bring blessings to our young as well, yes. Though I am not particularly in touch with those traditions at present, I must admit." The raven-haired woman paused for a moment, as if weighing whether her words were worth the breath. "It has been too long since I spent any worthwhile length of time at the Eyrie."

「  ⚔  」  STATUS ﹕ closed. 

Although after Dorne, Keyla was even more hesitant of being alone or out of private chambers when outside of the safety of Winterfell and the surrounding North, the lady consort refused to be cowed into submission by fear. Her dagger was in hand, shielded from view by a long sleeve, but ready for action at the slightest sense of danger. The raven-haired woman strode calmly among the quieted paths, intrigued by the singular figure amidst the cargo and equipment upon the docks and drew closer. The noblewoman paused, and took one small step back when Jasper's voice piped up. "Lord Reyne, I have no intention of interrupting or interfering in your actions. I was merely curious." The Stark lady noted calmly, the boy was no threat.

closed starter: iron born

Like most powerful men, Sigrin scared the Farwynd lady in some ways. But she was grateful to have never been on the receiving end of his bold and bloody exploits. This was not her first time speaking to the lord, or rather, now King, but there interactions had been few and far between over her twenty-something years. And Reyna was perfectly content with that. But, today was one where it was critical to converse, to convey respect and devotion in this new era of her beloved islands. Doing her best to maintain steady eye contact and not shy away, the blonde noblewoman nodded and smiled politely. "Your prowess could not be doubted by anyone, your grace. Particularly so after today." the lady bowed her head respectfully