a good man in a storm

She hadn’t gone home, instead coming to Dorne straight from Braavos. She didn’t want to step foot on the isle of Tarth and be informed of all the things she missed and have all the nerves come back over her again, washing away her content feeling like the waves destroying a sandcastle. And she’d spent a good portion of their time here already exploring and experiencing lots of new things. Some of which she was never going to tell her brother about, how it felt to have the wanted touch of a man who she knew near nothing about… oh better not focus on that now before she overheated more.

Thankfully her brother broke the reverie with his words, and she saw him for the first time since their arrival. They’d been so busy, and Darrik was involving himself in things she wished he’d just leave to their father and uncle. “You grew a beard.” Gods he looked so much like Petyr and Arik, she was the only one who got their mother’s blonde hair and soft face, and it made her tear up for a little. “I know, I know… but I used to help you pick out things when you were younger and I brought things from Braavos…” She motioned to lightweight clothes in dark inky shades like midnight blue, dark crimson, and the smoothest black. “Nobles in the city wear dark colors, so I picked up a few things I thought would look good on you.” Her voice cracked a bit from the emotion. He looked so much like their brothers… She barely blinked and she was across the room, hugging her bigger-but-still-younger brother tightly. “You look just like Arik, and like papa when he was younger…” She sniffled as she looked up at him, tiny chin resting on his chest.

“I did. I didn’t find much time to be clean shaven with how busy I’ve been as of late.” Darrik laughed, reaching up to run a hand over his face. “Ah you wish to stick to tradition then I see. In that case, I’ll appease you.” He smiled and looked over at the garments that she had chosen for him. “These are very nice, thank you.” He touched the soft fabric and let it run between his fingers. With the crack of her voice catching his attention, he looked back at his sister, seeing the expression in her eyes. “I must say.. I glanced at my reflection this morning and thought the same. I never realized just how much I resemble them until now.” 

   Florian smiled when the lord approached, he remembered them as one of the sons of Lord Tarth. Though the last time he had seen him, he was much younger, and not yet the heir to the family. Florian was also not yet the Lord of Maidenpool, a role his father had thought he was going to be assuming before his son. It would seem both their lives had changed quite a good deal since their last meeting. Smiling at him, “Darrik Tarth correct? My my, you’ve grown so much since last we met. I think you’re a whole foot taller. How have you been?”  

“That is I.” Darrik answered and gave a laugh. “I suppose you may be right.” He looked down at himself. His sister was just mentioning to him how much he had changed as of recent. “Well, all things considering. How about yourself?” 

When she saw him, a smile spread across her features. “You do, too,” she said, her gaze rising to meet his. He did appear different in some ways, which was understandable. He seemed to have changed since their last meeting in the north.

“It’s quite different,” she replied, looking away briefly to take in their surroundings. Dorne had nothing in common with the crownlands or the stormlands. The heat and never-ending sand were unlike anything she had ever seen. Argella thought the accommodations assigned to the newly united kingdoms were a little bleak, and she wasn’t sure if that was on purpose. “The air is very stiff,” she added. “However, I’ve heard that the bazaar has some of the most unique pieces on display. One of my ladies claims that a knight who once courted her brought her the most beautiful dark gems she had ever seen in a necklace. He had apparently discovered it while at the market in Sunspear”, she shared. “And what do you think of Dorne?”

“It’s definitely a great changed in weather and scenery. But, I must say, I do enjoy seeing different parts of the world and learning about all the different people within it. I’ve gotten to do that a lot more as of recent. I didn’t realize just how vast our world is.” Darrik replied, smiling more at seeing the grin that appeared on her lovely face. “Dorne is a unique place. I’m not quite sure what to make of it just yet.” He let out a soft laugh. “In that case, would you like to take a stroll through the bazaar?” 

With his recent promotion to heir of House Tarth, Darrik saw the ball as an opportunity to become better acquainted with the lords and ladies of other houses. He had typically left that responsibility to his elder brothers, but now it was up to him to spread their good family name. “Lord Mooton, it’s been quite some time, hasn’t it.” He commented, remembering the man’s name from a gathering a long time ago. 

“I can’t understand.” Pearse tried to consider the possibilities and he couldn’t find one that didn’t end with him even more frustrated than before the conversation started. “Then they expect us to continue to fight this war on our own. We matter so little to them and yet we surrender to their rule.” Pearse sighed. “I fear our best days will only be legends for our children.” Even his oldest son admired the dragon. Where did he go wrong? 

“If they expect us to do so then they need to hear our wishes and do something. For us to not have a voice? It’s unjust. The problems of the Stormlands are not always aligned with the Crownlands. Our needs are different and need to be addressed differently. If they do not speak on our behalf.. well we might have to do so for ourselves.” 

“Must you fuss?” Darrik laughed as he walked into the room where his elder sister was preparing to make sure he looked presentable for the ball. “You do know I am perfectly capable of making sure I am dressed appropriately for an occasion, don’t you?” He teased, a smile on his face now that he was finally reunited with his sister. “It is good to see you, Minisa.” 

@darriktarth​

She had planned to stay in the crownlands, in King’s Landing, with her children, but she had changed her mind and followed the others to Dorne. It was her first visit. While she had anticipated the scorching heat, it had still surprised her when she arrived in Sunspear. She had quickly ordered her ladies to go to the bazaar and find some fabrics for her to make new gowns out of, ones that would be more appropriate for the weather. While she felt underdressed, it was preferable to overheating inside stuffing dresses. 

Once she had settled into her temporary quarters, she had dispatched a messenger boy to find Darrik and inquire if he wanted to meet with her.  They hadn’t had the opportunity to meet in King’s Landing, but now they might. She had missed him since they had left the north. It had brought back old memories and feelings for her.

When the time came, she exited her chambers and proceeded to the agreed-upon location. As she waited for him, her heart was skipping a beat from excitement.

Since they had last seen one another so much had taken place. She had become a mother and he had become a soldier, protecting their shores from the Dornish attacks and working quietly with Pearse involving the Stormlander rebellion. But for the moment, all his worry could be put aside for he was about to see Argella. Whenever he was in her presence a quiet peace would fall upon him, not the mention a boyish giddiness as well. 

“Argella,” He called out her name, forgetting time and time again the formalities that nobles used to address one another. But with her it was different, was it not? “You look well.” He smiled, a light coming to his eyes that was always there when he looked upon her. “I’m glad you reached out and asked to see me. How are you finding Dorne?” 

“Of course.” Pearse let out a laugh. They were clearly in these quarters because the Martells wanted them to know what they thought of them and they lacked the boldness to say so. “I despise messages spent by someone afraid to write words with business such as the ruling Prince of Dorne and his son. “I think they take our problems for a joke, my Lord. A peace meeting withholding their royal support.” Pearse scoffed, glad to speak freely with someone who understood him and understood his love for their lands. “I hope while we’re here our Queen comes up with something to make all of this worth it.”  

“I wonder what they hope to gain from any of this.” Darrik replied. “To do all of this and then have nothing change? Appears like a giant waste of everyone’s time. If we return home and there’s still violence on our shores? We’re going to have to come away with something at least.”

a starter for @darriktarth location; Pearse’s quarters 

Pearse didn’t make it to feast. He didn’t want to keep eating with the same people. The worse part of sitting as a ruling Lord was the requirement to always put your best foot and face forward. It was effortless for Pearse. Charm was as important as reading, writing, and warring. Warring. Pearse found himself familiar with battle repeatedly. The gods built stormlanders for these wars, able to withstand much and more. But. He ran his hand over his face, leaning back in his seat as he put down the goblet of wine. 

“Thank you for joining me, Darrik. It’s nice to have a meal with someone I don’t have to worry about.” Pearse smiled, picking up a piece of bread from the bowl. “What do you think of our lodgings? Such luxury.” 

“Thank you for asking me to join you.” Darrik replied, taking a seat across from his fellow Stormlander as they broke bread. “Luxury is a choice word.” He let out a small laugh. “A better phrase I imagine would be what a message.” The Dornish feelings towards the Crownlands was no secret and that could be reflected in where they were being housed. “Tell me, what do you make of all of this, an invitation to Dorne while we’ve been battling along our shores?” 

Minisa bit her tongue, because she knew what woman her brother wanted, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted Argella to take her place as Lady of Tarth. Not because of vanity or anything, but she wanted someone who would love her brother fully and without reservation to be his wife and her replacement, and she was unsure if the widowed queen would. She wouldn’t even come back to the Stormlands and rule her own kingdom as left to her by her brother, passively letting the Targaryens take over yet again. It said to Minisa that the woman had abandoned her people, fed them to dragons and didn’t care about any of them, even Darrik. But Minisa didn’t voice these thoughts, even if her face betrayed a bit of her feelings before she brushed it off with a shrug. “Avoid all the melodrama happening. I’ve been getting anxious again, like during the war.” Minisa didn’t mention the deep sadness of being home, of the feeling of ghosts stuck so deep in the marble of their home that she felt so lonely and yet so watched at the same time. It would already worry Darrik that she was getting that scared restless feeling again, like she wasn’t safe. “So Father and I thought a month in Braavos would help my nerves, and keep me safe if something happens.” Like a rebellion that seemed to be whispered about from time to time.

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“You deserve respite from it all.” Darrik agreed. “Take as much time as you need.” He knew how much anxiety and fear had plagued her during the dance, all they lost haunting them both. “And should you need, I will be there for you within a moment’s notice.” He would always drop whatever he was doing to be there for his sister. “You’ve heard the whispers I assume?” He knew that something was brewing just below the surface in their lands, he just didn’t know the extent of it. 

@darriktarth​​

Dear Darrik,

I hope you are in good health as I write this letter. It may come as a surprise to you that I’m writing to you right now. I believe it has been quite some time since my last letter to you. As we are both well aware, a great deal has occurred that has temporarily hampered our communication. When I saw you in the north, I was overjoyed. My smile, I believe, gave it away. I admit it was heartbreaking when we had to part ways again, and I had to return to King’s Landing while you returned to Tarth. What has happened to you since then? Are you doing well?

But, in any case, I should probably explain why I’m writing this letter: I recently gave birth to my children. Maybe the news reached you in the stormlands. Surprisingly, the gods bestowed upon me not one, but two babes. A boy and a girl. Daemon and Daenys are the names I gave them. They are both breathtaking, the most lovely children I have ever seen. I’d like for you to meet them. If you wish and have the time, I personally invite you to come to King’s Landing and meet my two blessings at the Red Keep. Of course, you should not feel pressed. It’s fine if you have other commitments that keep your schedule full.

Please respond so that I know whether or not to expect you.

Love,

Dearest Argella,  I am greatly pleased to hear from you and find fault in myself for not corresponding with you sooner. It was lovely to see you once again and I felt as if no time had passed since we last set eyes upon one another. I am doing well, settling in more to my new role, still adjusting, still trying to make my brothers proud. 

How lucky are you to have something so utterly pure and precious. I would love nothing more than to come meet the both of them. Daemon and Daenys, good strong names. I pray they both be blessed, as I pray the same for their mother. I will send gifts for the two babes ahead of my arrival and look forward to seeing you soon. Never question whether I will make time for you. 

Yours, 

Her features were already soft in her brother’s presence, but they softened further at his questions, and she reached forward to take her Darrik’s hand in hers. Minisa understood the feeling, as years ago she worried about stepping into their mother’s place as lady of the house. For a while it was a constant effort not to compare herself to a woman she barely knew, and even to that day there were the nagging thoughts she had to keep pushing away. There would always be a wondering if she would make her mother proud, but at the same time she had long ago accepted that she would never know. At least not in this life. “If you weren’t doing the very best we thought you were capable of, Father and I would have told you. But you are as perfect as you can be, with all this settling on you as suddenly as it had.” They had not expected to lose Petyr and Arik has they had, how could they? They had managed to fight in the last battles of the war alongside the banner of the Blacks without incident. A flash of their bodies on the marble floor of the main hall came into Minisa’s mind, but she pushed it away. The ghosts were not wanted now, no matter how they haunted the corners of Evenfall Hall for her.

“The only thing we could ask of you is to marry and have children for us to spoil. But that is something you can still wait on. Father waited until he was in his forties, after all. The precedent set gives you near-boundless freedom.” Minisa knew it wasn’t just the precedent, as when had she and Darrik ever hidden things from each other? She knew about Argella, how he got moon-struck by the widowed Queen long ago. Minisa thought certain things she was sure her little brother wouldn’t want to hear about current events, and she didn’t want to bring down the mood. She was already anticipating a mention of her lack of marriage and wanted to wave it off as quickly as possible if it were to come to fruition. “Did I tell you I was planning on a short trip to Braavos in a few months? After going to visit a few people.”

↠ “That is something I do want.” Darrik nodded. “Whenever it shall happen for me.” He was a kind man with a lot of love and devotion to give someone. “To have a life with a good woman and sweet children and to help the Tarth name live on far beyond me.” The idea made him smile. He just wished he could imagine it clearer and know whether the possibility of having that with Argella would ever be feasible or not. “Braavos?” He asked, his curiosity piqued. “And what do you plan on doing there?” 

Minisa had been having a harder time adjusting to being home after the North. The ghosts of their mother and brothers seemed more present after her near brush with the Stranger. Tarth was always home, but it was getting to the point she couldn’t stand to be there again. The pitying looks from those who knew another betrothal failed, the paintings of those who passed staring down at her and making her feel she had failed them due to all the hope they’d put in her. Since the Tarths returned, she’d been out of the castle for the most part, riding or camping out in the ruins of Morne before being gone too long so no one worried about her. And now she was making a list of people she wished to visit to try and get her mind off things… and maybe somewhere else to be, if only for a little while, that wasn’t Westeros and all the insanity of alliances and colors.

“Hmm? Oh, no, you didn’t tell me.” Minisa muttered as she watched him pour her a glass of juice and took it with a non-verbal thank you. “You’re going to be filling the stables to over-flowing soon, with all your pets.” A small admonishment that was really more of a tease from sister to brother before she took a sip of her drink and turned more to give Darrik her attention better. “You know I couldn’t betray my Marigold.” Her grey dappled mare was aging now, but she’d been a gift from their departed eldest brother. Minisa couldn’t dare imagine favoring another beast while she still lived, even if she couldn’t ride more than a few hours on her before she was too sore to hold the lady on her back anymore.

↠

“Of course, I couldn’t expect that of you.” Darrik gave a small smile, knowing how much that horse meant to her. “But I decided if my role going forward was to be more prominent then I needed a strong horse to carry me wherever I must go. Which brings something to my mind that I wanted to ask you... Do I think I am doing a good job? Am I living up to expectations?” He tried not to second guess himself but it was hard. 

“Did I tell you that when we returned I acquired a new horse?” Darrik asked. He had always been such an animal lover. As a child he was the type to make sure others didn’t squash bugs or he would nurse small birds that had fallen from their nests back to health. It was just a testament to the good kind heart that Lord Tarth possessed. “His name is Qwynn. He has a lovely deamenor, I think you would be very fond of him.” He poured a drink for her before sitting down himself. 

“Allow me to say that I feel welcomed already.” Houses made it known when guests were not welcome and there would be a strong preference for them to never return. 

“Great to hear.” He smiled as he took a seat. “I understand. I’ve always found myself more of a traveler. Of course, I prefer when the traveling is on my time.” Pearse understood the work of being an heir. “When I took charge of Nightsong, I had a much harder time adjusting to my duties.” 

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“I always wished to see more of Westeros but now that the opportunity is before me I’ve found myself being more attached to home than ever.” Darrik admitted. “But isn’t that how it always is, the glory of hindsight.” He gave a small laugh. “What’s the key, hm?” He asked curiously. “What helps get you through the adjustment period?”