;;daggers and petticoats

still, it wasn't entirely easy to get a read on her. that didn't deter him entirely. it suggested some degree of intelligence, at the least, another desirable quality in a bride. but all knew that a lefford bride was worth a small fortune, and not a prize to be won with a crown alone. if he wanted a shot at it, he would need to play the long game. which, quite frankly, sounded exhausting, but so was everything else he did on a daily basis in the name of coin.

he caught the briefest flicker of movement, a slight brush of fingers against her sleeve. was it a sign of nerves? it certainly looked like it, even if it was well hidden. for a moment, younes softened. it was not enough to make him abandon the game entirely, but it was enough to tug at something, the gentler side of him he did a remarkable job of keeping hidden. "then we are both terribly polite," he was joking, but his smile had changed into something a little more sincere. "the most courteous pair at the feast."

he offered his arm to lead her out into the garden. "though if you ask me, i still the think the honour is mine," he tilted his head at her, brow quirked. "you wore that crown better than i could ever wear my victories." he led her out to the gardens, dropping her arm to allow her to pass through the door before he did. "besides, who is to say i would have won a thing had you not inspired my victory?" he was pleased with that one, he thought, his walk developing into a bit of a strut as he walked out into the garden.

only to promptly trip over thin air.

it was as though it happened in slow motion, the flail of limbs and startled, choked noise that escaped him as he went down like a sack of potatoes. it wasn't a dramatic fall, nor a particularly dangerous one - a scraped elbow would be his biggest injury, save that to his pride. still, younes stayed exactly where he was, sprawled on the ground in an unfortunately damp patch of grass, silently cursing all the choices he had ever made that had led him to this moment.

she turned quickly.

for a brief second she simply stared, blue eyes wide with surprise as lord younes lay sprawled in the grass where he had fallen. the moment hung there, suspended between shock and something dangerously close to laughter. she pressed her lips together quickly, fighting the smile that threatened to escape. how strangely freeing it felt to have. a rare moment though at someone elses expense. luckily she had learned from a young age how to hide anything that might read on her face.

instead she stepped toward him, gathering the skirts of her dress slightly so they would not brush the damp ground.

“my lord,” she said, a note of concern in her voice, worried for a moment that he might have actually hurt himself. she lowered herself just enough to offer him her hand. “are you hurt?”

her fingers hovered patiently in the space between them, waiting for him to take it. not sure if that was good for her to do or not. it seemed worse or more rude to simply stand by and watch. 

“the gardens can be treacherous after dusk” she added gently, glancing down at the patch of grass he had fallen into before looking back to him again. “i fear they do not show the same courtesy you spoke of inside.” she said. her voice quiet

this time the small smile did slip free, soft and fleeting, though she tried her best to hide it behind composure. she did not want to make him feel any worse then he probably did in that moment. she could hear the slight snickering of ladies and other men who happened to witness the fall. no doubt he would as well.

before he had even stepped foot on the road that brought him to the westerlands, younes corbray had done his research. the odds of he, a man of the vale, finding a bride amongst the women of the west was slim - but not none. and so, he had made it his business to look into things, to find out who was eligible for marriage, and who had the sort of dowry that was worth looking twice at.

at the top of his list was cerissa lefford.

he'd been on a losing streak lately, a result of money exchanging hands under tables in shaded corners, but today, there was no bribe compelling him to lose. he had ridden well, and by the time the sun began to sink in the sky, he had been crowned the victor of the tourney. he had taken the crown of laurels and roses, and handed it to cerissa, naming her the queen of love and beauty in a gesture that had seemed spontaneous, but was utterly calculatd.

he stood in the hall now, the air thick with the scent of cooked fruit, spiced meat and wine, his dented armour replaced with his finest clothing, though even that was old, the stitching meticulously replaced to give the impression of a man who had at least something in his coffers. he had skirted around the room, moving closer to where cerissa sat, intending to make himself known to her beyond the tourney grounds.

"lady lefford," he said as he approached, nodding his head in a gesture of greeting. "i thought it only proper to thank you for accepting my crown today. it was very kind of you not to refuse me." his words were polite, but carried in them a undercurrent of warmth, a friendliness that he hoped was inviting.

"my apologies, my lady. it is warm in here, and i am yet to see the gardens properly. i was wondering if you might accompany me outside?" he gestured subtly to the open doors, where the cool night air awaited.

cerissa had spent most of the feast tucked neatly at her place, surrounded by familiar faces, the din of laughter and music filling the great hall. the air was thick with the scent of spiced meats and honeyed wine, a warmth settling over the room that made her feel slightly lightheaded—or perhaps that was the lingering surprise of earlier, when lord younes corbray had placed a crown of roses and laurels upon her head.

she had not expected it.

even now, as she absently traced the stem of her goblet, she wasn’t sure what to make of the gesture. there had been a moment—brief, fleeting—where she had wondered if he had mistaken her for someone else. a stranger from the vale had no reason to know her, no reason to seek her out. and yet, he had.

at the sound of her name, she glanced up, her blue eyes meeting his as he approached. lord younes stood before her now, no longer in the dented armor he had worn upon the tourney grounds, but dressed finely enough to make a careful impression. his words, smooth and polite, held an inviting warmth, but cerissa could not quite shake the feeling that there was something calculated in them. but perhaps that was just her anxiety clinging to her.

still, she had been taught the importance of courtesy, and more than that, she did not wish to appear ungrateful. she offered a small, graceful smile. “it is i who should thank you, my lord” she said, her voice gentle but steady. “it was an honor to receive such a distinction from the champion of the tourney.” her fingers brushed the edge of her sleeve, a subtle movement, a flicker of nerves well hidden.

at his invitation, she hesitated. it would be impolite to refuse, and the air in the hall did feel heavy, the warmth pressing against her skin. a moment outside—away from the eyes that so often lingered on her—was not unappealing. and yet, she knew nothing of him, nothing of his intentions.

still, she was not a child to shrink away from polite company.

after a beat, she nodded. “the gardens are lovely at dusk.” she said, rising with quiet grace. “i would not mind a moment of air.” she took a step forward, tilting her head slightly as she regarded him. “do you often travel to the westerlands, lords younes? i dont believe we have properly met before, have we? ” there was no accusation in her tone, only quiet curiosity. if he wished to seek her company, she wished to know why.

"oh, please don't thank me." lucrezia all but uttered, in a tone that was far quicker than she had expected it to be. there was a sense of nerves at the pit of her stomach, and she knew not why. to look upon the golden features of the youngest daughter of house lefford and feel a sense of inner impending dread was something that she would not have expected to feel; and yet, the moment hazel hues locked with those of vivd shades of blue which appeared ever frozen in time, it were as though the sun beaming upon them vanished.

"it is a busy day." she spoke in an agreeable tone, saying something…anything, to speak. the sound of the music and the flutes all but disintegrated and fizzled away, and instead it were the roaring of the stormiest churns of seas and the roaring of bloodthirsty men with the background of shackles. "thankfully it is just us ladies in this part of the garden. there was some commotion over a mask, supposedly, over the flower wall." notions of honour and gallantry fell away the moment she had realised what war done to men; turned them into hounds, whose blood pumped through their ears. and she thought she had managed to swallow away what she had not only seen, but experienced on the shores of salt and sea.

so much for the ballads of war heroes.

and she had submerged it all, in all the duties of a woman. council meetings, managing household funds, bleeding between her thighs, inventory checks in the lower decks for food supplies, septas checking over her body, listening to the words that seemed to come from here, there and everywhere around her. being a present mother in trying not to miss the first steps of development, missing those first steps of development, being a present wife in trying to sit across from him at the end of the day and still find themselves as them. and everything she had submerged came churning and bubbling back, with one look of vivid blue eyes.

one which wore a shy, tentative smile and a look of innocence that made lucrezia's inner stomach all but flip. it were almost her nature to find herself calling the woman over, and she did not even need to think about moving alongside the recliner within this decorated outside space to spare her a seat. there was a sort of tragedy that seemed to linger in the air between them, discussions that would not be socially appropriate in a social circle of women dressed in their finest silks and discussing matters of politics, or gossip. she wondered if cerissa thought about it too, whether it were some unspoken call of the void that sat not between them, but upon them.

cerissa settled into the seat beside lucrezia, her movements careful but not hesitant as she expected there to be. there was an ease in being her. being with her. a silent understanding that did not need to be spoken aloud. even if she had not yet found the right words to say all that she wanted to, she did not feel the need to force them—not now. for now she would try to just enjoy the simple pleasures of being surrounded by all the other women here. to let herself feel safe, try to calm her beating heart.

she listened intently as lucrezia spoke of the land, her gaze softening at the mention of the hills and the roaming lions. a small smile played on her lips, one that felt lighter than she expected it to. “yes my lady,” she nodded, her voice quiet but steady, “there are still some prides that roam, mostly in the southern reaches. they are fewer now than they once were, but my father used to say that if you listen carefully on quiet nights, you can still hear their roars carried on the wind.”

cerissa’s fingers smoothed absently over the fabric of her dress as her gaze drifted toward the distant hills beyond the garden walls. “the terrain can be difficult for those not used to it,” she admitted. “it’s nothing like the gentle lands of the reach. i haven’t had the chance to travel there in some time, but i remember loving it.” a small, almost wistful smile touched her lips as a memory surfaced. “when i was younger, there was a lord i met from the reach, and i was so convinced i would marry him,” she said, the words leaving her easily, as if she had known lucrezia for years rather than mere minutes. it was an old, childish thought, but sharing it felt strangely natural.

she turned her attention back to lucrezia, her gaze lingering for a brief moment. “i imagine the arbor must feel like an entirely different world compared to this,” she mused. once, she might have thought it a beautiful place to live—lush, vibrant, surrounded by the endless blue of the sea. but now, the mere thought of an island, of being surrounded by water on all sides, made her chest tighten.

a sudden, sharp pop echoed through the air—a bottle, perhaps, or a tray crashing to the ground. the women around them barely spared it a glance, their conversation flowing uninterrupted. but cerissa’s hands clutched at the seat beneath her, fingers digging into the fabric as her knuckles turned white. her breath hitched, caught in her throat, her body bracing for something that wasn’t coming.

it was nothing. she knew that. just a sound. just a noise in the middle of a crowded gathering.

forcing herself to exhale slowly, she turned back to lucrezia, her smile returning—but it did not shine as brightly as before. “are…” she hesitated, then cleared her throat, smoothing out the slight shake in her voice. “are you staying in the westerlands long?”

shame was as much of a stranger to guinevere lannister as the stranger; introspective torture that went beyond acknowledgment but repetition. once there had been a time where another was able to speak to her of parts of herself she shunned away, standing in the rays of sun through stained glass; some things were meant to remain in the shadows, after all.

"i could have called upon any to bring me the shroud that hour." she spoke, her words not painted in anything but earnest honesty - but she had called cerissa. because she wanted cerissa to see it, for it would strike leo.

it had caused her to swallow back the anger that began to simmer in the pit of her stomach, for as much as she had been angry with the other in question, she had been equally as angered and disappointed in herself. there could be nothing another could tell her about herself she did not already know; to do so would be to spin her from all she had ever known, and never cease watching the world turn around her.

thus, the aftermath of the butchery in the halls was an ominous, morbid type of silence; an event which would forever go inscribed into the chronicles of the land of the west. what interpretations would come of the actions of all involved that day? "i demonstrated a lack of consideration as your princess, your mistress, and your kin."

what would be said in the future of the moment the high commander crossed the threshold of her apartment chambers, and it had resulted in the killing of a pageboy, a limp grip upon a rainbow glinted seven pointed star. in the silence as she sat, almost as still as a statue if not for the blinking of an emerald gaze, she swore there would be no record of her reaction.

but guinevere lannister knew right from wrong; as she believed every human did - it would not be on her to force her kin to see where he had gone wrong. it was not her judgement that could be passed, nor the judgement of his highness, nor his majesty; but the eternal judgement.

for she knew leo lefford cared of what people thought of him as a man. not in the way he swung his sword, nor his tactic: but him, as a man. what his sisters believed of him, in the aftermath of their mother's murder. that was enough to satisfy her acceptance, enough to ensure she would hold his gaze when s he saw him. but she knew where she had gone wrong; and she needed to acknowledge it.

cerissa’s breathing hitched in her throat, her heart racing as the weight of guinevere’s apology settled over her. there was no point in hiding how she felt—not now. everyone in that room had seen what had happened that day, though she wasn’t sure if gwen had truly registered it. the grief and chaos in the air had been suffocating, drowning out her own pain as just another note in the cacophony. had she heard her other screams as she stumbled back into the other room, as she saw the visions of the islands once more. of the men. of the bodies. of the violence.

but hearing gwen’s words now—hearing her cousin acknowledge her regret—brought those memories surging back. her fingers tightened instinctively, nails pressing through the fabric of her dress, and into the bandages beneath. she winced, fearing she might have reopened the healing cuts there, but she couldnt stop herself.

“g… gwen,” she managed, her voice trembling, small and fragile like a child’s. a single tear escaped, slipping down her cheek. she wiped it away quickly, her movements sharp, almost mechanical, as she tried to summon the mask she had practiced so carefully. the mask her cousin wore so effortlessly. she faltered with hers.

drawing a shaky breath, she tried to steady herself. her mother’s lessons echoed faintly in her mind—lessons on composure, on keeping oneself poised and in control. that was what leffords did, what the lannisters did. but every attempt to put the mask back on seemed to crack under the strain of this moment. but she tried and tried and tried.

it was only gwen here, she reminded herself. only gwen. her cousin, who had been through so much, who loved her as deeply as she loved her in return. if she couldn’t hold the mask for gwen, perhaps it didn’t matter. perhaps gwen would understand. at least maybe she would forgive her.

“th-thank you, g… gwen,” she stammered, her voice faltering as the old stutter pushed its way through, a habit she thought she had mostly overcome. “i… i know you weren’t trying to hurt me. i know you wouldn’t do that.”

her hands unclenched slightly, her gaze lowering to her lap as her words trailed off. “i’m getting better… better than i was, i…” she paused, her voice breaking into a whisper. “i don’t always know what to say.”

for a moment, silence hung between them, but cerissa hoped her cousin would see what she couldn’t say—that she forgave her. that despite her broken edges, she was trying. always trying.

@jaehaerysiitargaryen

ceri wasn't entirely sure what the proper relationship was supposed to be with one's good-brothers. were they meant to be friendly, mere acquaintances, or something akin to family—a true brother? she supposed it all depended on the man in question. she had never been around long enough to get to know her sister’s other husbands, her other good-brothers. though there was one whom she would have liked to kick right in the good shin. was that wrong to say? mother forgive her, but it was true.

after the argument with lenora upon learning she was to marry the targaryen king, ceri wondered if she was supposed to avoid conversation with him entirely. but that felt wrong, too. instead, she found herself enjoying the time spent in the presence of her good-brother. as she had told lenora from the start, he was a good man. and truly, she believed that. a hero to the women saved on the iron islands, and a man who had been nothing but kind to her. she hoped her sister now agreed but she was hesitant to ask. she did not have the spirit to endure yet another argument with lenora on the subject.

a genuine smile spread across her face as she saw him walking across the courtyard of casterly rock. "your grace," she greeted him, dipping into a respectful curtsey. good-brother or not, he was still the king, and she had no desire to offend him. "it is so nice to see you, good-brother," she added, her smile radiating warmth. normally so wary with others outside of her family she found it a good sign that she did not share the wariness with the king.

As she mentioned his sons, a proud, almost boyish smile broke through his usually stern demeanor. "Ah, my little dragons. They are a handful already, but I couldn't be prouder. Aegor will be a great king, you can see it in how he takes charge to be so small. And Tybolt, I wish to see him as the greatest dragon knight in my families history."

He studied her for a moment, noticing the light in her eyes and the genuine warmth in her voice. "Your kindness towards them means a great deal to me. They will benefit greatly from your presence and care." Jaehaerys was proud of his ability to wear the kingly face and speak godly. To improve his reputation.

Jaehaerys glanced around the courtyard, the memories of darker times and war flashing briefly in his mind. "I must thank you, Cerissa, for your unwavering support. In these times of celebration, it's easy to forget the shadows that linger. But having family—true family—around makes all the difference." Yes, the true weakness of the dragon King. A desire to be loved. To feel loved. And to have a family all his own.

cerissa’s cheeks warmed faintly as jaehaerys spoke, her gaze dropping momentarily to the ground before lifting again to meet his. his words, spoken with sincerity, were like an anchor in a way—a reminder that she was not just someone to be pitied or avoided, but someone he truly valued. it was a feeling she wasn’t entirely used to, and she found herself holding onto it tightly. she didnt wish to be the broken lefford forever.

“you’ve always been so kind to me, your grace,” she said, her voice soft yet full of warmth. “even when i returned, unsure of how to face….anythingyou never treated me differently. i’ve always appreciated that… more than i can say.” her gaze flickered downward for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts, before rising again to meet his. “and seeing you with your sons now—it’s clear they’ll grow up with that same strength and kindness. i imagine there’s so much of you in them already.” her lips curved into a small, sincere smile. “you will always have my support, your grace.” as she spoke, her gaze shifted briefly to the gardens around them, where sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting golden patches across the stone courtyard. when her eyes returned to jaehaerys, she noticed he had stepped closer. yet, for once, she didn’t feel the need to move back or away as she often did with anyone outside her family. it reassured her, confirming the truth in his words: they were more than family by law. they were allies. they were friends.

“i’m glad to see you here, your grace. it’s not often i get to speak with you like this. and though i know you have many more important matters to attend to, it’s always a comfort to be in your company. i truly mean that,” she said, her voice steady with earnestness.

her smile deepened slightly as she continued, “thank you. if i need anything, i will come to you. i am no king, but if you ever need something, i wish to repay the kindness you’ve shown me.” a warmth spread through her as she spoke, a glimmer of hope blooming within her chest. maybe things were changing—at least, it felt that way now. here, in this moment, with someone outside of her family who did not avoid her in the halls or treat her with awkward distance, she felt seen.

the flower garlands that seemed to hang over their heads beneath the open, endless stretch of sky made her think of highgarden; and for a moment, the lady of the arbor would be able to drown out everything around her and think of herself as in highgarden, surrounded by rolling fertile hills and thorns she had pricked her finger on time and time again.

her thorns, her roses; such a fantasy would not last for long, considering all it took was one look toward the high table to fully fathom where she was. the court of elegant savagery circled around their king, their voice of the gods upon the soil of this mortal realm as had been appointed by the gods themselves in choosing him. only, tyland lannister had been born lord; not a king, and the divine right was not something that could be simply taken.

there were multiple women that sat in the proximity, and it would be false to claim that lucrezia redwyne was antisocial - it were quite the opposite, in the company of those she felt safest with she seemed to open and flourish like a rose. the princess consort, her closest companion and friend in what was deemed the delights by courtiers of highgarden, was soon to be due - and there came always the sense of great nervousness and anxiety that came over her when thinking of the birthing bed.

it was a foe that could be battled, that could be conquered as her husband would jokingly whisper in her ear; she had done it herself, twice. her friend would do it too. it was not rare to see smiles cross her features, to find no reason to contain herself in such restrictive behaviours; there was nothing wrong with a woman's laughter being carried over in the air, had it not inspired most ballads and sonnets from the dawn of ages?

it was only when she moved her gaze from meeting a knowing look with meredyth across the open space did she feel a set of eyes looking upon her again; not in a way that made her want to hide herself beneath her veil, but one of curiosity. a set of striking blue orbs, who usually was accompanied with her cousin's former wife - and now, she stood alone on the sides of a bustling garden.

how lucrezia hated seeing such things; a moment of uncertainty, looking over the room, trying to find someone to approach; it reminded her of the trepidation the isolation of the arbor had installed upon her.

and so, lucrezia did not call the woman's voice from across the garden space - not for fear of not being heard, but for fear of startling. instead she made eye contact, and thought. thought about what speaking with cerissa lefford would mean they would need to speak about; a part of her still felt the treacherous waves of the iron isles beneath her feet, the fear of laying in her bed staring at the wooden panels above - sobbing in fear, pleading why she had not been a man.

amidst the bustling crowd of the lann’s day celebrations, cerissa stood alone on the edges of the garden, feeling both out of place and exposed. she scanned the area, her hands nervously twisting the fabric of her skirts, hoping to catch sight of a familiar face. time was making gatherings like this easier and easier but right now she was never fully comfortable alone in gatherings like these; it was as though every gaze could pierce through her, lingering on the fragments of what she had endured and survived. now she felt like a small boat caught in a current, invisible among the grand lords and ladies of the courts. stuck waiting for something to help pull her out.

her gaze wandered over the garden, a habit she had developed since her return always making sure she was safe. scanning the crowd for some perceived danger or, scanning for someone she could approach, someone she knew. anyone.

amongst the crowd she could hear her name being called . glancing towards the source her eyes landed on a face she hadn’t expected to see: lady lucrezia florent. she was poised, composed, and seemingly unfazed by the grand crowd. despite the months that had passed since her return, cerissa had never forgotten the memory of lu’s face, the strength she’d radiated that day on the cold, jagged shores of the iron islands.

thst day amongst the chaos she had been a becon. her eyes linked onto lu’s from across the beach and an understanding crossed them. just for a fleeting moment before the arms of her brother escorted her up onto a waiting ship. they werent meant to be here. neither of them were and yet here they were.and they had survived. she did not think in her lifetime she could ever properly put into words what that had meant to her. what it had meant to see her that day. what she had done not only for her but all the women there. there must have been so much fear that she was carrying  when she step ashore of the stoney beach but she did it anyways.

at last, cerissa was pulled from her thoughts as she saw lucrezia look her way, a hint of understanding in her gaze. cerissa hesitated, then managed a shy, tentative smile and walked towards where lucrezia and her party was gathered. her heart raced in her chest, not out of nerves of being alone now but nerves of what to say. if she should even say something here. how did one convey complete gratitude to someone they barely knew. how do you tell someone that seeing them on the day of their rescue gave her courage to take another step. to keep going.

she was afraid there would never be the right words.

The death of Leander Lefford made their house feel a grief again. A grief he was certain his sisters felt. Augustus did not miss him, he did not mourn him, and if plans went any better there wouldn't have been anything left once the rocks were moved and they would have had to dig up the ash. Alas, it was over, time had passed and mourning was over. Or it should have been over. And as such, he wouldn't talk about it. Bring it up over dinner.

In his arms, his sister's son laid quietly as the Lord waited for their table to be fully set. Dragging his tongue over his lips he smiled briefly. Tybolt Lefford. Yes, it was going well for her. She was doing as instructed. Married well, a queen and with two sons. Two. Their line would know royalty. True royalty.

"He's a strong boy. The King has let me meet Aegor." Augustus didn't say more than that, the baby boys looked the same it was more Jaehaerys that worried him but it wasn't his place to say, not here. "Tybolt is a great name. Strong, akin the lion King's house, and a name Stormlords can respect."

there was seldom a day when cerissa was without the company of one of her siblings or family members. others might find such constant presence overwhelming or stifling, but she never minded it. to her, family was a comfort, a warmth that wrapped around her like a favorite cloak.

today, however, was special. she would get to spend time with her entire family—a rare occasion in these times where they were getting split across the kingdoms. after the loss of their brother, the leffords needed this more than ever, at least ceri wished for that. it was a time for healing, for coming together in the face of their grief. and now, with the celebration of their cousin’s new child and lenora's twin sons, there was much to lift their spirits. cerissa had seen lenora with her boys earlier, the light of motherhood glowing in her sister’s eyes. she seemed happy, and cerissa silently prayed that the happiness would last for her.

she glanced over her brother’s shoulder and smiled as the baby in his arms cooed contentedly, the soft, melodic sound filling the room. he was peaceful, perfectly at ease in the security of his uncle's embrace. "they are both so well-behaved already," she mused aloud, her voice gentle. "he knows to behave for his uncle."

cerissa couldn't help but wonder at what age these children might begin to grasp the weight of the power they were born into. all kings and queens began as innocent babes, yet it was strange to think that these tiny, fragile beings might one day wield such authority. the thought lingered as she watched her brother, who seemed to sense her gaze. when he said her name, it caught her off guard—it felt like a rare occurrence, but he was getting better at it.

"of course, whoever you think is best, brother" she reassured him, a soft smile playing on her lips. the youngest lefford knew that her time at home in golden tooth would not last forever. as much as she might wish to hide within its familiar walls, safe and cocooned, she understood that a marriage would eventually take her far from these comforts. still, she had faith in her brother's judgment. she trusted him not to choose someone terrible for her, even if she dreaded the thought of being sent far away.

but those were worries for another day. for now, she was with her family, where she belonged. cerissa took her seat at the table, her heart swelling as she looked around at everyone gathered there. "i have missed our family dinners." she said, her voice filled with warmth and a hint of nostalgia.

People began to retire from the great feasting hall. The fact that she'd not seen her sister during dinner became her sign to go look for her as soon as she finished her meal. Thus far Calla had been keeping an eye on Cerissa. Her sister had certainly adapted rather well after her return to the West, slowly but surely finding her footing after her kidnapping. Ceri might smile and nod and keep her voice gentle, present herself as an entirely agreeable woman of the West, but the red lioness was aware that there were parts of her sister's harrowing experience that would forever linger within her. She wasn't sure if this large of a gathering could be overwhelming for her little sister, so she kept the mental note to check in on Ceri from time to time.

there was no day that what happened to ceri didnt affect her in some way.  each step forward demanded caution, it required it to be one step at a time. needed to be guided and walked through with caution, or at least with and an understanding that the path ahead could veer unexpectedly. but some days were better than others. some days she could almost feel like her old self again. tonight was one of the those nights. within the halls of king’s landing, cerissa felt an odd sense of safety.one that she hadnt expected to feel. but she knew if she looked around the room she might find one of her siblings, or a friendly face at least.

the events of the celebration carried on deep into the night, until most of the ladies retired to bed. some gentlemen might be staying up to enjoy more celebrations but it would be unwelcomed for an unmarried lady to stay with them. so ceri had returned to her chambers, allowing the handmaids to help her undress and get ready for the night. that was until she heard her sister’s voice at the door. smiling she took her sister’s hand and pulled her inside.

“calla did you see it?” she exclaimed, excitement bubbling within her. “ i danced the entire night and i did not need to stop once. i didnt even feel the need to panic once. i just got to enjoy everything.” she said happily, flopping herself down on her bed. she felt like a teenager again getting to attend her first festival. “did you see who i was dancing with? he was very handsome.” the joy in ceri's voice was unmistakable, a radiant glow illuminating her features as she recounted the evening's festivities to her sister

"Jasper has a mother." Arron spoke flatly, a bit of confusion crossing his features, leaving as quickly as it arrived. He supposed it made some sense. No it didn't. Well, maybe? Arron Lannister knew little about the Reach and less about the practices of Goldengrove. Did they find to strange to ward a child? Did she not know the story of Jasper? The danger in his existence or did she believe the rumors used to keep the boy.

The smile returned. "Thank you. I often find a worry for my wife. She's from a region that's quite different than others. I hear the Reach has quite close interpersonal relationships. A youth among one another and now they rule a kingdom together." Perhaps they were more informal?

hearing of that. ceri was glad she was able to speak to her cousin in such a candid manor, wanting him to know he could trust in her telling him everything. it would only hurt both arron and his new wife to keep secrets about what had happened. and she knew arron could handle the truth of what happened.

"that is what gwen said in response to your wife. that jasper did have a mother," ceri relayed, remembering how gwen’s demeanor had changed after those words were spoken. "and afterward, it seemed she realized her misstep in the conversation. she appeared to try to distance herself from her initial remarks, or at the very least, recognized the poor choice of words given the circumstances."

ceri's gaze softened as she continued, her trust in aaron's ability to confront the truth evident in her demeanor.  "i am not familiar with the customs of the reach, but perhaps you are correct. it may be more acceptable to speak more informally with a princess," she mused, “i am not sure. but i trust you know best on that.”

a smile spread across the young lefford’s face as she leaned forward to mimic her cousin’s move, as if they were telling a secret. "think we should be very thankful the conversation was in private chambers. if it was publicly then…well. i cannot speculate on how everyone would react but honestly i do not think the greater court would have been happy."

“i will do my best for it not to spread anymore, cousin,  if that is what you’d wish. the other ladies present in the room might already be talking but i can try to make sure nothing further is said if you’d wish.” she said, quickly adding in. “i have no gossiped about it, just telling you about it. i promise.” ceri offered earnestly, her willingness to assist her family evident in her words. since her return home, she’d been lucky to find herself in attendance to her cousin. it gave her a position in the court, let others see her family standing behind her, supporting her. and now if she could find a way to help her siblings and her cousins, she would be happy.

hues watched the tournament grounds just below, the pounding of horses hooves upon dirt, the roar of the crowd as the knights struck, he remembered many of these as a young boy, admired how valiant the knights of the reach were. it was interesting to see so many from all over come together, and he was eager to see the knights of the vale in action. "it is, quite the crowd, huh?" mathis answered her, making polite conversation as he scanned the crowd. "it has been a while for me too."

these sorts of events were equal parts watching the games in front of them and equal parts watching the crowd around them. who was there. who was talking with who. what new people had arrived. every gesture, every whispered conversation could hold significance. it was just as political as the courts themselves. but in public everyone could see everyone. she had made it a point to ensure that she was not going to lose herself here in the crowd. she couldnt afford to. not when this many eyes were on them all. for her, maintaining a sense of composure amidst the throng of people became paramount—a conscious effort to remain grounded in the face of scrutiny, unaware that her companion shared in the same silent vigil. trying to navigate themselves back into court life, back into the politics of it all.

she had heard of what happened with mathis, as he returned not too long after she did. he seemed to be doing well, she hoped that wasnt just mask. but they all were very good at holding up those masks.

following his lead, she spotted the meadows knight, his presence commanding attention for someone so young. seemed he had an air of intensity to win, or prove himself amongst his older competitors. "bartholomew," she murmured, a wistful smile gracing her lips. " gods, his parents gave him a weighty name to carry, indeed.  though 'barry meadows' may lack the same grandeur, i shall be cheering for him nonetheless"

a tension, previously coiled within her shoulders, began to unravel with each exchanged word. getting to be with someone in a crowded place like this helped to put her mind at ease. “i am sure i have a cousin or a second cousin competing in one of these games. at a point it just is too hard to keep track of.”

"As much as I hate this place it has been so lovely to be here. Lovely to know that so much blood was shed for a reason.” Arron thought the Dance without purpose and everyday it became clearer to him that there was much good from the destruction. The Westerlands were truly independent, one of the only regions to know true independence with no reliance on the Starry or Sept of Baelor. They would have their own banks and then it would continue. Arron never cared for court or politics. Politics made him uncomfortable, and he hated to tap into a place that made him uncomfortable. A feeling washed over him that was strangely fitting, strangely cold.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time, cousin. I’ve already spoken to Guinevere and let her know I needed you for only a few moments so she won’t worry about you there.” Arron didn’t exactly tell Guinevere what he wanted just that he wanted to talk to her and see how she was, leaving it open. It wasn’t odd because Arron Lannister always spoke to his family, always spoke to his cousins, to his family. Everyone save for his Aunt Lanna, once he was old enough to not speak to her he didn’t. He thought her an irritating nitwit. Still, he spoke to his cousins because didn’t think them all to be severely lost and misdirected in their cause. Anyone could be redirected. He captained through storms and sailed through the eyes of the stranger to come out on the other side.

“cousin you are not taking up my time. i am happy to be spending it with you. as i always am." she assured arron, a genuine warmth infusing her smile. of all her cousins, cerissa often got to see arron the least mostly to blame was the vast distances between them. yet, with each courtly appearance he made cerissa was happy to get to see him again. and it seemed lately they were becoming more frequent.

as arron broached the topic weighing on his mind, cerissa's posture subtly stiffened, though his reassuring smile quelled her apprehension. the memory of that  conversation lingered vividly, as it was all the other ladies could talk about for days.

"well..." she hesitated only for a moment. not wanting to insult the new wife of her cousin but he said he wanted the facts. and she never liked lying to her cousin.  "the encounter did not unfold as we might have hoped," she admitted, her tone laced with candor.

"gwen extended her courtesies as a princess, outlining the responsibilities expected of her in caring for jasper as he is going to be your ward," cerissa recounted, "and then the princess, your wife, stated that ‘those are some detailed demands’ in regards to the expectations. and forgive me arron it seemed she was rather….bored. or maybe detached. i don’t know exactly how to describe it." she continued, her words chosen delicately to convey the underlying tension.

"she expressed concern over the distance of the riverlands, questioning her ability to oversee jasper's well-being from afar," she added, her voice tinged with a note of regret. "and then, she stated that the child would need a mother and she would be able to be one to him." she said as she observed, gauging aaron's reaction to the news.

the ruling lord of golden tooth still did not know where he stood in regards to his youngest sister. a relationship still existed, with the siblings talking regularly. the voyage to the crownlands bringing them all together and forcing them to interact in close proximity. but the gnawing feeling in his chest was still there, every time he looked into the sapphire eyes of cerissa lefford. he was her big brother who swore to protect her. and he had failed her twice now. he believed cerissa had forgiven him so quickly because she was afraid. not of him, but of losing her family once again. and as much as he resented himself for it, he was glad she did.

he searched her out in the gardens, as he remembered it was always her favourite place as a child. but he did not wish to speak to her to reminisce about the good times. no, the lord of golden tooth acted with a purpose. it seemed like he had a purpose for everything these days. leo spotted the bright blonde head among the flowers and walked over to cerissa, tapping her on the shoulder lightly. he did not want to frighten her.

"where is the hermit?" he looked around, and finally sat down on a stone bench next to his sister. "did he run away from you already? i think he is the happiest when we are all in casterly rock."

he listened to her responses. she seemed content, unnerved. this was a good time for an important conversation. still, leo could not exactly gage if cerissa realised he came to speak to her about something specific. she was his sister and she knew him. she understood well enough to know leo rarely wasted his words on smalltalk.

it was a day of clarity for cerissa, her mind unburdened by the weight of worry or apprehension. she felt a sense of ease wash over her, returning her to a semblance of her former self. as she deftly braided the blossoms together, a soft melody hummed from her lips. the tap of her brother's finger upon her shoulder interrupted her humming, and cerissa's smile blossomed at the sight of leo's familiar face. cerissa let out a laugh at her brother’s teasing words, “he did not run away from me!” she smiled. “i’ll have you know we had a lovely conversation and then he needed to go for some daily meditation or something like that. he wasnt running away from me.” she laughed. leaning over she picked another one of the many flowers to add it into the crown. the gardeners wouldn’t mind as they were used to it by now and there was plenty of flowers amongst their massive estate. 

part of cerissa had wondered why leo was searching her out in the gardens. she knew her brother well enough to know he was not coming out to enjoy the sunshine with her. she knew he was a busy man with all of the work he needed to do not just for golden tooth but as a council member. she did not envy everything that he needed to balance. and as he began speaking she knew his tone well enough, knew that look he gave to know this was a serious question. something he genuinely wished to know. moving to join him on the bench, her hands still adorned with the remnants of her floral creation, she listened attentively as he broached the topic at hand.

“i have gotten to know queen katherine recently. with gwen’s marriage to the riverlands king soon, she will be leaving to travel to her new home. there had been discussions that i would move to join as one of the ladies in waiting for the queen. so i have begun to meet with her, she had been nothing but very kind to me. very welcoming, wishing to help me adjust back.” she said. “and…” she paused, hoping he would not be angry with her. but honestly she was sure he already knew. but it shouldnt be a problem since he was a friend of leanders anyways. “i met lord ambrose serrett in the crownlands. he was also nice to me. he escorted me over to one of the tournament events when i could not find leander.”

a small, humored smile graced her features at her notice of the other fixing her posture, it reminded her of her younger self, in truth. how aware she was of every little thing then, that now extended to an awareness of those around her, instead. she found the youngest lefford lady to be charming, kind, and sweet. “you are most welcome, lady lefford. i have a tendency to overdo things, and yet still i want to ensure nothing is missing.”

at the story of her siblings, the eyes of the queen glimmered with amusement, a sign of her true engagement with the other woman’s story. she wished she had similar ones to give, but she feared her relationship with her siblings was not quite like that. “as the elder sister, i can certainly attest to that.” she responded, though her words were light-hearted and were followed by an airy laugh. “my little sister could not want for anything.” she added with the same tone.

as the queen's words meandered towards the topic of the islands, a wave of solemnity washed over cerissa's countenance, its weight palpable in the slight furrow of her brow and the subtle downturn of her lips. she had grown adept at masking her emotions, a skill honed through time being back at the court, but she still hadnt mastered it just yet. and she knew eventually she would have to hide her feelings behind a polite smile as people did. but at least she was no longer paralyzed by the very thought of it all. though the mere mention of the islands stirred a familiar ache within her, cerissa found solace in the company of her queen, her hands momentarily betraying the turbulence of her thoughts as they wrung together before finding repose in her lap.

"your grace," she began softly, her voice gentle, "i... i am grateful for your understanding." a tender smile graced her lips, though it carried the weight of a lingering sorrow.“i have found myself adjusting back quickly. i am lucky to have my siblings and my cousins around me. they have helped me more than i could ever say. ”she said, “ thank you, your grace. i truly appreciate it.” and she did. she wouldnt have been able to get back to where she was if it wasnt for the help of those around her, guiding her, and having patience and understanding about certain things. 

"it seems things have begun to settle for us. just from my time being back at the court" she observed, "from what i have witnessed, our king and council have undertaken admirable efforts to better the lives of our people in the westerlands. i wonder if the same spirit of benevolence is in the courts of the other kingdoms."