⤷ * now you're almost mythic.̲.̲.

The cold touch jolts and there is no stopping the bloom of a smile at the lord standing before her. Oh, they knew her all too well, didn't they? A pleased hum leaves her lips, eyes twinkling as she leans just enough to breathe in his closeness without surrendering to it. " Well, strongwine makes everything taste better, doesn’t it? " she muses, glossed lips curling demure. " But so do the right words. " A knowing glint, for they knew too many. She peels back a step, and very quietly:

" Beautiful? " she echoes, fingers idly smoothing a fold in her skirt as though it were her gown they were in reference of. Her appetite for flattery, voracious. " Now you’ve gone and made me suspicious of a handsome lord. I’ve been here all but a while and already someone remembers what I wore last time. "

Laughter spills from her, unrestrained and mischievous as they were, and with a voice laced with implication. " Do tell, Martyn, were you watching, or were you waiting? "

the  dornish  lady  stands  to  the  sidelines,  shoulder  meeting  the  cold  marble  of  the  column  gwyneth  has  chosen  for  company.  all  they  want  is  to  be  back  in  godsgrace  ⸺  and  if  they  could,  it  would  be  by  her  lonesome  (  especially  if  the  alternative  is  having  only  her  brother  for  company  ).  and  then,  one  of  the  only  faces  that  could  change  that  want  for  loneliness  makes  their  presence  known.  for  a  few  moments,  it  is  as  if  the  crowd  around  them  disappears  into  a  void  that  gwyneth  does  not  want  any  of  them  to  come  back  from.  ❝ my  lady  dayne.  ❞  every  fibre  of  gwyneth's  being  relaxes  at  the  sight  of  elira.  ❝ you  are  just  being  kind.  you  outbloom  us  all.  ❞

" Mm, but isn’t it our duty to outbloom each other? " Elira teases, eyes softening at the edges as she closes the distance, her fingertips brushing Gwyneth’s elbow in greeting. Such closeness was a gift for her, to know she be near without recompense or scandal given their past; Elira had hoped it would never change, this closeness to her, for it was simple and true. " How else would we survive such tedious affairs but with a bit of competition in loveliness? " Her smile is slow, not to be taken too seriously, never that. Though they were subject to such games in the court, weren't they?

Elira sighs softly with her flower still idling in hand. She leans against the column beside them, shoulder to shoulder, as though they’ve always been here like this. " It's good to see you, my dearest Gwyn. "

He smiles at her, and once again casts a keen eye to the court mingling around them both. " Truly? " Head cants, " I had hoped to see all your suitors keeping you company. " If only so he could be nosey and charm his way into ensuring the best were loyal to his sister. " Surely you can't mean to say that not even one lord, lady, or ser here has caught your eye, dear sis? "

voices call in the darkest corners of his mind , spitting out accusations and demands , and with his bare hands , those were silenced . no longer was the lord of bear island imposing , waiting for others to take responsibility for the consequences of their actions . from the hours that stretched to days , that stretched to months , that stretched to years , of waiting , desperately reaching out for a drop of concern from kin , he had learned mormonts cannot betray their ambition , no matter the cost . ❝ i was thinking about demands for answers , investigations on the attacks a year ago , but certainly , drinks and bells are more pressing matters , brother . ❞ his brother can pretend as long he pleased , live as though his choices held no consequences if the vale allows him such space for delusions but alaric wanted none of it . there was nothing to go back to , not after all he had lost and no one to answer for it .

Could he fault the younger for his call to war? No. The weight of brotherhood weighed far heavier than the call to rule, to lead. A tired gaze turns to Alaric, and he had thought he'd done so well to steer the conversation to something lighter and more agreeable. It was his own fault for assuming Alaric was anything but agreeable, he thinks as he watches him over the rim of his glass; whatever part of him that he remembered knowing, anyways. " Drinks and bells don’t drown it out. " A hum, and he's gazing back to the court. " What would you do, Alaric? Storm the grounds? Ask questions which would insult their pride and call it justice? " There was truth in Alaric's words, yes, but there was also treason; " Do you even have a plan? And not just more damn noise from someone who doesn’t know the first fucking thing about what he’s asking for. "

" How kind of you to notice, " he shoots back, a wan smile on his face. If there was anybody to keep an eye on, it'd be the new hand, but even still: " but a celebration is still a celebration, my lord hand. " He shrugs, and sips from his own chalice once more with an eye to ton which filled the court; a merry atmosphere, which had given more people to do as they pleased. " It wouldn't quite be a cause of celebration if it were dry. "

In truth, he wouldn't know, given that he had grown out of that isle at any moment he could seize. Antony snorts and finds his own cup, metal rings clinking against the chalice as he tries to find the words that compliment the Isle; even if they were few, he could, " Bear Isle’s winds do strange things, " he agrees, " some folks grow taller. Others just grow a thicker hide. " Companiable, at best. He steps back, and gives him another once over, " have they not been feeding you over there? You should be half a bear already, lad. "

had  it  not  been  for  the  saving  grace  of  the  wine  that  had  already  been  consumed  ,  fury  may  have  taken  over  the  mask  that  siren  wore  ,  though  perhaps  that  was  more  testament  to  who  it  was  that  decided  they  need  not  pay  mind  to  their  surroundings. 

few  elowyn  would  consider  friend  ,  and  yet  somehow  the  seemingly  clumsy  lord  from  the  vale  had  managed  to  claim  such  a  title. 

swirling  pools  of  greens  and  golds  narrowed  slightly  ,  a  subtle  tilt  of  her  head  as  she  peered  up  at  him  beneath  dark  lashes  ,  amusement  hinted  at  the  faint  lift  of  her  lips.  “  you  don't  need  to  lie  to  me  ,  tony.  ”  rasped  words  carried  with  a  taunting  lilt.  “  you  and  i  both  know  it's  just  because  you're  getting  old.  ” 

He's only partially glad she isn't so easily inclined to act on an impulse he knows all too well, having only briefly seen the daggers that clipped him short from bursting out laughing right then and there. Antony grins instead, rolling his eyes at her, " you'd hit an old man? " Oh, he knows she would. " In the middle of such a joyous occassion too, with all these eyes waiting for such a show ... " he tsks, brow raised, " It's unbecoming to be a salty hag, Elowyn. Especially when you're already halfway to cronehood "

Brow raises, and there's a slight uptick of a smile which threatened to overtake if he wasn't aware of just who it was he had bumped into. Her joy was infectious, even to an old bear such as he. Antony places his hand over his chest; dreadfully formal. " Let me take your word instead, your grace. " Not really, he didn't enjoy sweets. A smile curves, " it wouldn't serve well to take a Dagareon's princess' half eaten cake when there's enough to feed the entire realm? " Though the thought made him chuff. Head cants only slightly, and he raises his thumb and forefinger, swiping at his lower lip to indicate, " you have icing... "

the  jolt  takes  dragoness  by  surprise  .  conversation  with  another  abruptly  ended  with  in  a  mirage  of  silver  and  moonbathed  tresses  ;  scowl   is  prominent  first  ,  passive  amusement  second .    ❛   yes  ,  two  left  feet   and  not  much  else  in  between .   ❜   violet  hues  travel  the  length  of  his  figure  ;  a  year  has  not  changed  much  ,  a  little  more  grey  perhaps  ?   ❛   you  did  not  have  to  jostle  me  to  get  my  attention  lord  arryn  ,  my  sights  would  have  set  on  you  sooner  or  later  ... but  i  appreciate  you  may  have  been  loosing  patience .   ❜   previous  company  forgotten  ,  a  far  more  entertaining  target  was  before  her  now . 

The voice stills him, first, and it's the recognizable hue of Valyrian tresses, second. To imagine she'd still be a haunt within memory, and even now? He chuffs. As is customary, he offers a wan smile and incline of his head if only for show. Rhaeny's words were always like a sword at his stomach, a sharp sting just below his rib; an agonizing descent into that which he could stomach, if she'd only let him. " You've always did have a gift for saying so much with so little. " He steps back, smoothing a hand over his tunic, if only to show a bit of propriety. He had often wondered the extent of her affections to keep him bound so close with a dragons grip digging into flesh and bone, consuming all of him albeit slowly. An old affectionate gaze smooths over his features, " It'd shock you to know how much I loathed to see you. " With the attack on Hightower on few months prior, and then the duties of lordship over the Vale; he had busied himself with matters more pressing than old haunts. There couldn't be two specters within the Vale's castle's walls, not when one had already kept him frustrated as is. " Have you been well, Lady Tarth? "

Such impossible inquiry creased only the slightest frustration between his brows, a sharp exhale, and he settles back to his spot for he knows he can't fault her for it; standing beside her, with a drink in his hand like a balm. To that which sounded dangerously close to an invitation that he should know better to be one affectionately made. A hidden smile drowned in fruity wine. Very quietly, his answer to both: " No one. " He could only hope she wouldn't fault him for his own impossible asks. The noble house of Arryn was all a play in the eyes of the court, a united front of Vale and the North to which the benefit was to she, the mountains heart that only drew him near but not enough to crowd but enough to covet her attentions.

"And if they did, I’d pity them."

A ghost of amusement curled at the corner of his mouth. " Should I take waiting beside your doors now, sword at my side, for those you would expect ? " Or want? He's lived with her ghost for months, the living were easier to get rid of.

" Something like that, " the lord would reply with at least the grace to, at the very least, offer a sympathetic smile. The attack was brutal, and wrought in the horrors uttered to those born in the North, except, he had faced it and even just thinking of it. A shudder rolls down his spine, and his hand flexes. " In fact, I think ... " head cants, and eyes narrow as though he had to make sure his own vision didn't fail, though, hesitance laced in his voice: " you've grown ? " A ghost of a smile.