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a bastard's place was not in a ballroom. even with her face entirely obscured in gold, when she could become whoever she deemed beneath the glimmering chandeliers, amongst the gluttonous revelers, she knew who she would remain when the masks fell away at the end of the night. a breeze blew through the courtyard, carrying the smell of the sea and caressing her hair. it almost reminded her of sunspear. but the heat in king's landing was heavy and humid, encasing you in a miserable damp cocoon the moment you step outside. it didn't carry the delicious sting of the scorching sun or the weathering brush of sand from the dunes.
it did however carry something different. an unfamiliar scent. a perfume or a smoke from unfamiliar firewood. when allyria turned, her eyes landed on someone who looked equally as though they wished to be alone. or not-so-alone but away from all of the tittering nobles. her gaze roved over them in a quick assessment, determining what it was they sought from the isolation of this courtyard swathed in moonlight rather than the warm flickering torchlight of the ballroom.
" good evening, my liege , " she straightened, but she did not bow. " what draws you away from the... revelry ? " she tried not to let the word drip with disdain, but she could hardly hide her true feelings so thoroughly.
the evening had grown louder with every passing hour. laughter rose and fell beneath the music, silver goblets clinked together in endless celebration, and somewhere beyond the ballroom another dance had already begun. laenora had endured enough of it to know when she required a brief reprieve, and the courtyard offered exactly that.
cooler air drifted in from blackwater bay, carrying with it the familiar scent of salt. it was not quite driftmark, but close enough to stir a quiet ache beneath her ribs. she'd found herself missing the restless rhythm of waves striking the cliffs and the cries of gulls wheeling overhead as of late. her train of thoughts, though, was interrupted when she heard the sound of another.
she turned, dark violet eyes settling easily upon the masked woman before her. there was no mistaking the reluctance behind the greeting, nor the disdain that clung to the mention of revelry despite the speaker's best efforts to conceal it. it earned the faintest curve at the corner of laenora's mouth.
"good evening," she returned, inclining her head just enough to acknowledge the greeting. her gaze drifted briefly toward the distant murmur of music and laughter that carried faintly through the night before returning to the stranger. "nothing particularly dramatic, i'm afraid." the corner of her mouth lifted ever so slightly. "i simply came to steal a breath of fresh air before throwing myself back into the festivities."
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emmon quirked an eyebrow, “and they would be correct, my lady”. in truth he hadn’t meant to seek out lady laenora. their match at cyvasse had not lingered long in his thoughts, not for want of her talent, but simply because it was over. a game was a game. the pieces were swept from the board, victories counted, and defeats endured. the world marched on without care for either player. he had played too many matches over too many years to dwell long on matches.
emmon stood beside her, quietly watching the waves. the lingering salt in the air and crash of waves reminded him of oldtown. the thought brought an ache in his chest he could not wholly name. whether it belonged to memory, to age, or to past regrets, he could not have said. his knuckles clenched on the railing as his brows furrowed.
“your technique proved..." he frowned slightly, searching for the proper word as a pause lingered between them. "disciplined. you never chased an advantage that was not there, nor did you lose yourself when fortune turned against you." the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "though, perhaps, you afforded me a touch too much respect. cyvasse rewards boldness as readily as caution. there were moments when a risk might have unsettled me."
His fingers wandered into his beard, absently stroking through the patches of silver that had claimed it these past years.“even so, i thought you played wonderfully.” he continued, a faint smile now obvious, "had you found me on an off day, with my attention wandering, i daresay the match would have been yours.” he gave a small shrug, as though dismissing his own victory.
laenora's smile lingered for a moment, small enough that it might have disappeared entirely had he looked away. he was being kind -- perhaps even modest. she found herself suspecting the latter.
there was something almost amusing about listening to a man who had spent decades mastering the game attempt to convince her she had nearly bested him. had their positions been reversed, she doubted she would have offered the same comfort so readily. not out of cruelty, but because she had always preferred honesty over consolation, even when it stung. still, she appreciated the gesture.
"you give me rather more credit than i deserve, my lord." her gaze drifted back toward the sea, watching another wave scatter itself against the rocks below. it reminded her of the match in an odd sort of way. every movement appeared inevitable only after it had already happened. "i've replayed it often enough to know where it slipped away from me." and it happened somewhere much, much earlier than she had thought. she let the thought settle between them before continuing.
"i believed i understood what you were building." a quiet laugh escaped her then, softer than before. "what never occurred to me was that you understood precisely what i believed."
laenora folded her hands loosely before her, turning just enough to meet his gaze once more. "i appreciate your generosity all the same." there was warmth in her voice, though her smile had taken on something more thoughtful. "but i suspect had we played that match ten times over, the outcome would have favored you far more often than not."
location: on one of the many red keep's balconies, hours after the velaryon heir's loss against the ruling lord of raventree hall -- day two of the event
open starter for ( 3 / 3 ) closed !
the applause had long since faded from her ears. the court had already found something else to occupy its attention, as it always did. a few matches of cyvasse were hardly enough to hold the realm's interest for more than a handful of passing conversations, particularly when the outcome had seemed almost inevitable. a ruling lord had prevailed. the velaryon heir had fallen to a player with decades more experience. there was little shame in losing. at least, that was what everyone kept insisting. whether laenora believed it herself was another matter entirely.
laenora stood upon one of the red keep's balconies overlooking the sea, the evening breeze tugging lazily at the silks gathered around her frame. somewhere below, waves broke rhythmically against the cliffs, indifferent to victories and defeats alike. she had come searching for silence. instead, she found herself replaying the match move by move. not the final checkmate, the move before it. no -- the one before that.
her fingers absently traced invisible paths across the stone balustrade, as though the weathered stone had become another cyvasse board entirely. she could still picture every piece exactly where it had stood. every sacrifice. every feint. every decision that had seemed entirely reasonable in the moment. in the end, it had not been a single brilliant move that defeated her, but the quiet accumulation of many. the realization was strangely comforting.
the sound of approaching footsteps stirred her from the endless replay unfolding within her thoughts. she did not turn immediately, allowing the silence to linger for another heartbeat before speaking with the same easy composure she had worn at the end of the match.
"if you've come to offer condolences," she said lightly, her gaze still fixed upon the darkening horizon, "i've been thoroughly reassured that there is no shame in losing."
only then did she glance over her shoulder. a faint, polite smile finding its way across her features as a stray breeze lifted the pale streak woven through the left side of her dark curls.
.ೃ࿔ king maelor offers his welcome to lady laenora velaryon, of driftmark. across the realm, they are praised as astute and charismatic, though courtly whispers insist they can also be ruthless and prideful behind closed doors. still, their allegiance is said to lie with herself and, by extension, house velaryon. their presence evokes imagery of half-forgotten letters pressed between the pages of well-worn books, pale seafoam silks dancing in the ocean wind, pearls scattered across a dressing table like forgotten stars, and the temptation of a door left slightly ajar, enough to inspire any storyteller. with so many tales in circulation, separating truth from fiction may prove no easy task.
i. ⎯⎯ basics.
full name: laenora velaryon. nickname(s): nora -- for those close to her. title(s): lady heir of driftmark && captain of the wandering pearl. age: twenty9. gender + pronouns: ciswoman && she / her. orientation: biromantic, demisexual. birthplace: driftmark, crownlands. residence: drifts between driftmark and king’s landing. languages: the common tongue (mother tongue) && high valyrian (fluent) && bastard valyrian (fluent). religion: the faith of the seven -- not particularly devout. affiliation: house velaryon.
ii. ⎯⎯ physical
faceclaim: laura harrier. eyes: dark purple -- so dark they almost seem blue. hair: dark brown curls with wisps of white on the left side ala valarr targaryen -- often styled with pearls and silver adornments. height: 5'8" / 173 cm. scars + marks: few visible scars, though years spent sailing have left her skin kissed by the sun. distinguishing features: wide, striking eyes && radiant smile && a quiet confidence that often draws attention before she speaks. clothing style: favors flowing silks and fine tailoring that reflect both velaryon wealth and maritime heritage -- often in sea-glass greens and blues. scent: sea salt && jasmine && a faint citrus-y smell.
iii. ⎯⎯ personality
positive traits: astute && perceptive && charismatic && resourceful. negative traits: calculating && prideful && ruthless && restless. mbti: enfj. enneagram: type 3w4 (the expert). moral alignment: lawful neutral. heavenly virtue: diligence. deadly sin: pride. fears: irrelevance && watching her house fade into obscurity. pet peeve(s): incompetence && people mistaking her overall personality for weakness. quirks + mannerisms: absently traces the rim of her goblet while thinking && watches people more than she thinks. hobbies + interests: sailing && cyvasse && reading history books && collecting rare perfumes.
v. ⎯⎯ connections
father: unnammed velaryon. mother: unnamed velaryon. spouse / betrothed: see wanted connection below ! siblings: tba. friends: tba. rivals / enemies: tba. other allies and associations: tba.
vi. ⎯⎯ background
laenora velaryon was born surrounded by stories. some were carved into driftmark's weathered halls, passed down through generations alongside silver heirlooms and fading valyrian relics. others arrived with the ships that crowded its harbors, carried by sailors returning from distant ports with tales of foreign courts, strange customs, and storms survived by little more than luck.
as a child, she possessed an irritating habit of lingering where she was not expected to be. people rarely paid attention to a young girl tucked away in the corner and unsurprisingly, they revealed far more than they intended when they believed nobody important was listening. she remembered names, favors, and grudges long before she knew their weight.
the sea became her second home long before politics ever did. she first sailed at the young age of eight, often escaping driftmark’s halls whenever she could convince someone to take her aboard. what began as childish fascination quickly became something far more enduring. the sea taught her lessons no maester ever could. fortunes rose and fell with remarkable speed. powerful men became forgotten men. nothing remained unchanged forever.
by the time she entered adulthood, laenora had become the captain of her own ship and spent years drifting between ports across the narrow sea and the western coast of westeros -- collecting favors as readily as stories and learning that information was often more valuable than gold. she was charming when she wished to be, clever when she needed to be, and patient enough to let others mistake those qualities for harmlessness.
everything changed once she was named heir. the voyages that had once defined her life became increasingly rare, replaced by responsibilities that kept her anchored to driftmark. meetings replaced distant horizons. alliances replaced adventure. the freedom she once enjoyed gradually gave way to duty. and truthfully? she accepted it more easily than most expected.
after all, laenora had never been interested in sailing merely for the sake of wandering. every voyage had taught her something: who held power, who wanted it, and who would do almost anything to keep it. driftmark may have become her anchor, but she had no intention of remaining still.
the tides in westeros are changing. dragons are gone, old certainties are crumbling, and houses that once stood unquestioned now find themselves struggling to remain relevant. laenora intends to survive the storm. more than that, she intends to emerge from it stronger than before.
vii. ⎯⎯ headcanons and extras tidbits.
✱ laenora still keeps a detailed journal from her years at sea. officially, it is a record of voyages, weather patterns, and trade routes. unofficially, it contains years worth of observations, rumors, secrets, and impressions of people she has encountered throughout the realm.
✱ nosy asf and has an unfortunate habit of turning nearly every conversation into an opportunity to gather information. whether she realizes it or not, she is almost always listening for something beneath the words being spoken.
✱ unlike many nobles, laenora genuinely enjoys spending time with merchants and sailors. she often finds their company far more honest than that of courtiers.
✱ possesses a deep fascination with the mystery surrounding the extinction of the dragons, though she rarely speaks of it aloud.
✱ the wandering pearl was gifted to her on her sixteenth nameday -- what began as a lavish birthday present from her father quickly became one of the most treasured things she owned.
viii. ⎯⎯ wanted connections.
✱ political betrothal (open) … since laenora is The Heir, her betrothal is a match that makes perfect sense on paper. whether arranged recently or negotiated years ago, both understand that duty brought them together before affection ever had the chance to. perhaps they are attempting to make the arrangement work. perhaps one or both resent it. perhaps feelings have complicated things in ways neither anticipated. i’m very much open to whatever for this connection, but just know laenora is saying yes to the betrothal because it benefits her and her house.
✱ trusted confidant (open) … one of the few people laenora trusts with the thoughts she keeps hidden from everyone else. they have seen her uncertainty, her fears, and the pressures she rarely allows herself to acknowledge publicly.
✱ friendship turned fracture (open) … once inseparable, now barely capable of speaking without old resentments surfacing. somewhere along the way, ambition, distance, duty, or perhaps differing loyalties drove a wedge between them. neither has entirely forgiven the other.
✱ old sailing companion (open) … someone who knew laenora before she became driftmark’s heir. they sailed together, traveled together, and witnessed a version of her that few people know still exists.
✱ frenemies -- yes, i want frenemies (open) … another liege convinced their vision for the realm is the correct one. there is mutual respect between them, but also constant competition. every meeting feels one conversation away from becoming either an alliance or a disaster.
✱ open to more including … former lovers, political (or not) allies, people she met during her travels, people attempting to pull her toward opposing factions, gimme anything and everything !
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