✹ mumu for cognatihq
❖ lady rosalyn stark née arryn ( adria arjona ).
❖ lord dominic greyjoy ( tyriq withers ).
❖ lady myrcella dondarrion née lannister ( vanessa kirby ).
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@beautifulsnares
✹ mumu for cognatihq
❖ lady rosalyn stark née arryn ( adria arjona ).
❖ lord dominic greyjoy ( tyriq withers ).
❖ lady myrcella dondarrion née lannister ( vanessa kirby ).

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LOCATION : day two, morning, greyjoys private quarters STATUS : closed ( @beautifulsnares )
aeron made his way towards the table, his hair messy from sleep. he rubbed his eyes and let out another yawn. "brother!" he called out, hopeful that his youngest brother would answer. he was exhausted but that was his own fault, he had met up with some old friends after a full day. he wished he had just left early like others suggested. he did not listen. he let out another yawn and practically fell into the chair. "dominic, come out here ... we have some things to discuss." he stated. "i hope and pray to the gods that you're alone in that room."
"you wound me for thinking so little of me aeron," he said as he entered the shared space after he heard his older brother call for him. "as if i would dare bring someone back to our quarters when most would rather have me sneaking out if theirs instead." He teased as he sat across from him.
"You are scaring me by saying you wish to discuss something. Has our father sent you to tell me that I need to spend more time at home? That i should stop galavanting around Westeros?" Not that Dominic would do as he asked but it was different when it came to his brother.
setting: the fourth night, several hours after the fateful shinty match, on the quarters of the stark children, w. @beautifulsnares
she's been prepared for what is to come for moons now – has aided in what she believes is the right path to change, in fact, but gilliane had not expected the display on the field. whenever blood haunted her slumber, she never expected it to be from a northern boy. it's dreadful – she doesn't want, she can't second guess, but she can't help the way her chest thaws and breaks and makes her distance herself from the now hollower than ever celebrations as night falls.
instead, she seeks the nursery. every child within it is perhaps too grown to still sleep huddled together, but the siblings and cousins still take their rest on the large children's room, free from the obligations of the adults that must still mingle. she wonders how scared they are – as scared as she is? wrapping an arm each around lynara and beron, she enjoys the kids' little nothings. alys has realized what has happened, and despite the frown on her little face, she's playing along for her siblings and cousins, holding royce's hand and singing to him.
gilliane doesn't realize she's singing as well until the door opens, dragging forth the light of the outside torches. "auntie, you've ruined it!" beron exclaims. "mama was singing! she never sings anymore." it's true, but gilliane frowns, unwilling to have it held against herself. "roslyn is a much better singer than i am, bear. come and join us – i would offer you solitude with them, but i am afraid i can not bear to be with others right now. even if i must sing for my cowardice." she shoots her youngest a look, torn between amusement and judgment.
she had been away with consoling the family with their loss. she knew when these games happened their was a possibility of someone getting hurt. it is inevitable as it is with anything physical but this was not something they had prepared for. death already lingered over Winterfell and now it seems as if its shadow will not be lifted over them for some time.
ros needed to see her children. to hug them. to know they were safe and sound. she had not wanted them to see something like this ever. not at this age when the only troubles they should have would be if they would ever finish their food. but the old gods must have thought differently, she wondered as she entered the room.
"oh lord beron i cannot believe what i have done. i deserve the highest of punishment. oh please forgive me." she pretended after hearing what the young boy had said. she walked quickly and sat on one of the beds. "i shall bring you all the sweet treats in the morrow to make up for what i had." she pleaded. before patting the boys head.
"i do not blame you. i would rather wish to lock the doors to this room and not leave for the hunt. I do not want to be away from them but I told Alaric i would join him." she says. "it was pretty what was being sung.
rubbing his temples, alaric let out a weary sigh. "i apologize for my absence." amid all the chaos, he had wanted to spare lynara and royce from the grief that had settled over the north following his grandfather's passing. more than that, he had hoped the burden of his new station would not fall upon his children. yet it seemed he was already failing in that endeavor. "i will have to give in to whatever demands they make of me tomorrow." a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he reached for rosalyn's hand. the warmth of her touch soothed something deep within him, easing the chill that had settled into his soul.
for all the quiet composure alaric maintained, rosalyn was his complete opposite. since the day they had met, there had never been a thought she was unwilling to voice— even those others deemed inappropriate or distasteful. his wife was a force of nature, and when alaric found himself exhausted by diplomacy and courtesy, he could always trust her to handle matters in her own unmistakable way.
"you would start another war if you were allowed to write down every thought you have about our southern neighbors and send it directly to the king," he teased. bringing her hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles. he had hoped to shield both his wife and children from the weight of rule, but that hope had always been little more than a fantasy.
with another heavy sigh, he continued. "they're coming here. to winterfell. it should be two moons before they arrive, but they wish to pay their respects to the old man." the very thought threatened to send him spiraling.
the north was only beginning to recover from years of famine and brutal winters. how were they expected to host thousands of southerners— people who had never known true hunger, who had never watched their stores dwindle while the snows stretched endlessly across the land? if alaric intended to keep the peace, he would have to tread carefully.
the north remembered.
it remembered five long years of suffering. winters that had arrived early and lingered too long. trade routes that had faltered when they were needed most. famine that had first ravaged the north before spreading southward into the riverlands and the vale.
part of him wanted to write back to the king and tell him exactly where he could shove his condolences, but that would be treason. his grandfather had spent a lifetime forging peace between north and south. alaric refused to be the man who shattered it.
"do not apologize. they are young and hardly know better." she said. oh to have the innocence of a child, she thought. it was something she wish to spare her children if Ros could. spare them learning about grief so young like she did when she lost her own parents.
"i fear what the they might have you do. particularly lynara. you spoil her too much." she teased. when their daughter had been born, she knew that many wished it was a boy. for it was no secret what they had said about the future heir but rosalyn said her piece to anyone who thought different of her child.
"a war i think we could win." the falcon joked. "for i doubt they would know how to navigate the winter lands and its dense trees. i bet they hardly know how to properly wield a sword." she quipped but he was right. her words would cause a scene but because of Alaric she always held her tongue as much as she could. for he was one of the handful that could quite her storm.
"they are to come here?" she repeated the words he had just spoke. "do they think we are prepared to host them? we have only just lost your grandfather and we are still recovering. the North is not prepared for something like this so soon. Who does the Crown think they are?" Rosalyn was not even hiding her dismay. She was lucky they were alone in his chambers and not somewhere where ears could hear what she spoke.
"you are writing to them that we are still recovering right? the Northerners will not be too pleased. not after what they did." she spoke as anger rose in her. "i would rather they send a small convey that have us do something to host them all."
starter : open to all
during : at the stark hunting lodge, the morning before the hunt begins
holding onto her sleeping child, the lioness turned lady dondarrion watches as the nobles converse. some speaking about what had occurred the day prior while others about who they think will come back with the biggest prize during the hunt. all myrcella can do is think about what happened. the child only ten years older than her own and she cannot help but feel for the family. it only makes her want to leave back home yet they could not leave. not when she still had yet had time to speak to her family after what has happened.
" If you've not yet found a spot to sit, you are more than welcome here to sit here." she gestures to the chair near her as she watched the noble wondering if they were lost. "it seems it is only a matter of time before many leave for the hunt."

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"a delicacy?" no, that can't be. her face says as much, having allowed a lapse in decorum in the company of her soon to be goodbrother — the silver kraken with a sharp tongue. still, ever a rose of the reach, elanur maintains a more tactful and less ruthlessly blunt approach, even if she finds herself in agreement with him. "perhaps. i fear my presence alone offends them far more than either of our comments ever could, though." a terrible thought. elanur doesn't know quite how his lot does it. her fingers tap on the side of her goblet then, brown eyes looking him once over. he grows taller each time she sees him, it feels like. "and what of your precious islands' fare, my lord?" she quirks a brow at him, lips trying and failing to fight off an amused smirk. "am i a fool to hope for better? or shall i acclimate myself now while i'm here?"
"Of course, I am surprised you had not heard." He joked as he teased her. He already knows that he will get an earful frim his brother once he hears how he teases his beloved.
"As if its hard to not cause them to look our way with litte decorum. I fear that if anyone laughs or smiles too much, a glare would be thrown their way as if they are allergic to such notions." Dominic quips. He already got such looks and finds it funny.
"Last I heard from my father, the isles are doing well as they could. I shall have to make a quick visit soon before I am off galavabting to some new place." He says. "If i call you a fool, my brother might coming running towards me with a weapon. Though maybe anything would taste better than what you just had."
“yes, i've heard as much… seen it, as well.” it was obvious that the northerners had no interest in being welcoming to those of the south. then again, everyone north of dorne was a northerner to her. even him, even being from the islands like he is.
“i wish you luck then,” she says with a polite smile. “when does that take place? i will be sure to watch you.”
"That i can agree on." He says as he looks towards the crowd of people competing. "I actually do not know when it is. I was hoping that someone would just let me know and I will just show up." Dominic jokes. "I feel as if i now i have to make sure it do well in the competition if I am going to have someone watching me now." He teased with a smirk.
[ vanessa kirby. lannister b. 36. cis female. she/her. ] the king welcomes myrcella of house dondarrion nee lannister of blackhaven ! all of court has heard that they are patient and diligent, but whispers claim that they are also vain and brazen when no one is looking … how much of that is true, we will soon find out. asking around, we are told that they remind people of perfect posture and etiquette as if she was born to be a lady with her poisonous judgmental glare, dutiful daughter who would do anything for her family and to expand their legacy, silent as the wind if she doesn’t have anything to say but when she does her words hold its weight in gold ─ that should give the bards something to sing about ! unbeknown by most, supporting her husband is the real reason why they answered the call of the king, but with so many rumors flying around, who is to say what the truth is ?
“you have done quite a lot with what you have,” daenys says sweetly. it is true, she was not expecting much when they traveled this far north… but they've done well to make things accommodating and entertaining. not that the entertainment was quite to her taste, but that is fine. the effort is enough to please her.
“it has been,” she confirms with a smile. “i appreciate your grace, lady stark.. truly.” she looks off in the distance for a moment before her gaze falls back on the northern lady. “you have children, do you not? we should arrange for our children to meet. i think it would do them all some good.”
"I shall thank the rest of my family. Much of what has been transpired were their ideas." She answered. An endearing smile appears on her face at the mere thought of her children. They are her pride and joy. Sometimes they acted more like wolves than falcons but she still loved them.
"Yes I have two, a daughter and a son. I think it would be a wonderful idea for them to meet others. They have been quite intrigued with all the nobles arriving. They have never seen winterfell so full of peple." Rosalyn said.
𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝑜𝑓 𝐶𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑅𝑜𝑐𝑘

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Vanessa Kirby.
credits ; midnights.bloom
(gallery) ✧ 15 avatars
allyria looks him over, just now coming to notice the pin on his dublet – that of a silver kraken, symbol of house greyjoy. so he is an ironborn, then. she knows little of the people, beyond that they are quite harsh and known for raiding other regions such as the west and the north. many seem to hold this reputation against them, but not she. she knows all too well what it is like to hold one's birth status against them.
she chuckles slightly when he says that he may well be talking completely out of turn. it is not as if she knows any better, though. she knows little and less of these northern style games.
“i think i will be quite content to watch from the sidelines… truthfully, i am not quite sure how much of this is even supposed to be done. i fear i would just make a fool of myself if i were to participate. will you be participating, my lord?”
"I am sure if you had asked, some liege probably would have taken the chance to show off so they could teach you how to do so. But then again I heard not all northerners are nice." He teased about the region. It earned Dominic some looks but he did not care.
"I had hoped to do the stone put. It looks easy. The other games do not interest me enough." He admitted to the other as he leaned against the fence.
🌹 — set during one of the feasts on any day of your choosing. assume whatever and i'll go with it.
elanur isn't much of a drinker, she never has been, but she can't deny that she is deeply curious and ever committed to always doing as the locals do on her travels. it's how she finds herself staring down at a most generous cup of black beer, her eyes widening with apprehension as she swirls it a bit, noting its thickness. gods, she thinks. do they really drink this? and enjoy it, too? not wanting to risk chickening out — or worse: be a bad guest — elanur brings the cup to her lips at last and takes one brave mouthful.
which, of course, is the greatest mistake she's made yet.
immediately, no. she will not be swallowing this. she cannot swallow this. seven hells, she could practically fucking chew it if she wanted to. eugh. northerners and their endless curiosities — no wonder they are the way they are. she looks around, fully intending to spit it back in her cup, when she catches someone's eye.
great. now she has to swallow it.
which, actually, turns out to be an even bigger mistake.
“oh,” elanur coughs, unable to stop the way her face contorts with disgust. she shakes her head, nose and eyes both stinging in protest, before she realizes and tries to put on a brave face instead. “that is, um…” bad, she thinks, coughing again. bad, bad, so very terribly awfully bad, but what comes out instead is a warbly: “strong! yes. wow. ahem. how... exquisite, really. i’m not sure i’ve ever had anything quite like that.” and she hopes she never does again.
It takes alot to hold in his laughter as he drinks his own goblet. He had not meant to catch the eye of the Tyrell when they were too drinking but seeing their reaction to whatever was in their goblet made him almost spit out his own. "I heard it is a delicacy here in the North. What you just said. You should be careful to not offend our gracious Northern hosts, lady tyrell."
Dominic put his own goblet. "Though it is shit compared to arbor wine and dornish red many would more than likely prefer." He had the stomach for beer and whatever ale that came his way. In his travels he had drank many new things that were not what he was used to ever having before on the Isles.
He also did not care for what he said. "I would day you should have some of the food but I do not think they have heard of spices here before but the bland in the food might just help."
to say that erich dondarrion was in sour mood was an understatement. sure, the ruling lord of blackhaven was nowadays known to be easily irritatable and very temperamental, but these past few days he had been in the crabbiest mood so far this year.
he detested the wintry North. the bitingly dry winds seem to find a way to nip through any unseen flimsy part of his clothing, keeping him in a constant state of freezing coldness no matter how warmly he dressed up. the cold did wonders to the old bone and joint injuries he had sustained during the war, causing him to suffer from dull, lingering aches several times during the day. and just when he initially thought he could just pay his due respects to a great old man and leave immediately with his family, it now seemed he was forced to stay and endure this horrible weather for almost a week.
he would have very much preferred to stay indoors for the rest of his obligated time here, but apparently his beloved family had other ideas. so here he was, shivering slightly in the biting cold as he awaited his turn to participate in the hammer throw competition.
"you sound more as if to mock him than pity him," he stated in dry observation. in truth, erich would have said exactly the same words if the younger lord had not beaten him to it. he wasn't about to defend that sorry excuse of a throw. he just had no care for people feigning empathy that they didn't have just to appear noble. "but perhaps we might be a bit too harsh or hasty in our judgements? " he contemplated briefly. “he could very well have an old injury that is flaring up in pain due to this damned weather.” much like erich himself.
"Well let's just say that liege and I may have crossed paths before and he was not exactly the most welcoming." Not that anyone welcomed an ironborn but then again dominic allowed it when he was the one to had initially ruffled their feathers beforehand.
"Though i would not put it past them to feign an injury later on afterwards and put the blame on why he did so poorly." Though he would never fault an injury on a warrior. If anything it should make one stronger, not make one seem weak.
"Maybe my father is showing in me. He would have said that one should never show weakness so easily." He greyjoy said.
it is always a pleasure to be in the company of the starks. beron had grown with them, been through war with them, and seen the atrocities of winter with them — a bond that has not been broken through the many years his family has held fealty. though the lady consort was newer to his life, it was not as if he was less fond of her. "it is not that, m'lady," though a blush does rise upon his cheeks at the insinuation she believed his work was worth more. "it is just—" and he has to pause, gather himself for a moment before he gets too worked up. "i do not peg the southerners to willingly give their coin to us, but if they can offer anything, it would be more than we have had in years." a bitter feeling floods through him, though he does his best to show. he should not act this way in front of the lady consort, she deserved more respect than that. "but anything you shall want, please do not pay more than a fair share or even any at all, i would not feel right taking it from you. which catch your eye?"
"I see you are not much of a haggle yourself lord umber." She herself back in the Vale was someone who would enjoy doing do when she visited the markets, dragging others with her. Rosalyn was no stranger to them and knew that every stall and those who ran them knew their worth. "I would say you should at least have a set amount for some of the items. Certainly the pelts." She said as she admired them from afar.
"Oh please i would what I deem them worthy to be. If you do not take my coin I would make a scandal and send it straight to your lord father or present it to you at tonight's feast." Not that Ros would actually do something like that but she knew many would not put it past her. "I shall say I know my daughter would enjoy the wolf and my son the bear. As much as I would wish for them to take more after me and love Falcons as i, they are their father's children."

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allyria cannot say that she is truly entertained by the northern display. it is so different from her home, after all, so far from what she is used to. still, it is interesting to see how culture shift the further one travels away. and though she loves dorne more than anything, she has always longed to see the rest of westeros.
she is stood just at the outskirts of the games, right along the barrier. honestly, she fears that something might get tossed her way and gods how awful would that be? just as she is almost fully entranced by what she is watching, she hears a voice beside her.
the bastard of starfall looks up and up, to the tall man beside her. he carelessly picks apart the player's performance and she cannot help but to snicker slightly. “was that really not far?” she had no idea what made a good throw, clearly. “it's certainly further than i ever could.”
"Well im not much a hammer throwing guy but I've seen quite a few people throw it earlier in the day more farther. I take it the leige isn't one who is used to doing as so." He answered. Dominic half expected the other to make a comment on him for what he said but just maybe they were also in agreement.
"Its all in the grip I think. My brother weilds an axe himself and if its anything similar to it, I think its the same principle." He says. "Though i could just be saying some shit and be totally wrong for all I know." The ironborn admits. "Are you partaking in an of the other contests or do you prefer to admire the view instead?"
sansa reclined, content with watching now, one hand up to shield her eyes. “ perhaps he does it more for fun than for sport. ” she had not signed up for any of the games that required strength alone ( tug o'war a group, after all ) but had taken enjoyment in watching others compete. the few practice throws she had taken gone barely further than the tips of her shoes, yet happy all the same as if she would be declared the winner. “ or he has won the game before and wishes to give another the chance to come out victorious. either way, he looks to be having a nice time. will you attempt to best him ? ”
"i shall dare hope so. i know only of a handful of people who enjoy throwing their weapons and the leige looks to not be one of those." he said. Dom did not know why he was bashing the other so blatantly. they had no quarrels as far as he knows but maybe it was out of habit.
"that would be quite kind of him to do so. though i have never met another who would easily doing something like that. then again I have spent many years on the Isles and on the sea where such action could coat one their life." he said so morbidly. "me? no. i know my strengths and throwing things is not for me." he answers. "are you partaking, my lady?"