feuillemort

AGNAR BOLTON NÉE SALTCLIFFE， lord consort of the dreadfort. intro  ﹔  interactions

CELIA BLACKWOOD， lady of raventree hall. intro  ﹔  interactions

LYNESSE REDWYNE， lady of the arbor. intro  ﹔ interactions 

there  was  much  that  flowed  through  their  homes  throughout  westeros.  were  it  not  for  white  harbor,  the  north  especially  would  not  have  everything  it  needed.  it  took  much  to  run  a  port  city,  but  he  was  sure  she  understood  such.  “  i’m  sure  you  can  breathe  a  sigh  of  relief  that  it  has  occurred  and  quite  successfully.  ”  it  was  how  he  had  felt  after  any  major  event  in  his  life,  for  example  each  time  his  late  wife  had  given  birth  to  his  children.  “  i  will  be  heading  back  to  white  harbor  once  time  deems  it  appropriate.  i  may  make  some  stops  in  the  riverlands  before  that  though.  will  you  be  staying  after  the  wedding  to  help  your  sister  settle  in  ?  ”

lynssse huffs a soft laugh in agreement at the statement. 　“ i certainly am very glad to be finished planning. ”　 even a normal wedding had hours of work put in, but one joining a ruling house went well above and beyond that. 　“ the riverlands? i suppose it would be pleasant to have some time to let your body adjust in a temperate middle between this heat and the chill of the north. ”　 coming back to the arbor after their stay in winterfell had been more a necessity than a vacation, both due to her part in keeping things running smoothly and to prepare what she could in the arbor for this event, but it had been quite a relief to be back in the warmth. though perhaps that would not be the case for a born and raised northerner. 　“ yes, i do plan to stay with denyse for a time. we have lived together for her entire life, and to not be near will require just as much adjustment on my part as hers. ”

❝  good,  you  deserve  it.  ❞    not  too  long  ago,  melina  was  to  be  preparing  for  her  own  wedding.    though  she  wasn’t  sure  she’d  have  gotten  much  say  in  it  had  it  actually  taken  place.    but  she  had  freed  herself  from  that  burden,  for  now,  and  had  only  to  enjoy  others’  weddings  for  the  time  being.    while  she  hasn’t  actually  been  enjoying  herself  at  first,  enough  wine  had  convinced  melina  otherwise  and  she  merely  smiles  and  nods  on  lynesse’s  direction.    ❝  i  truly  do  not  know  how  your  families  did  it  all  with  the  added  stress.    it  will  be  a  wedding  spoken  about  for  years  to  come.  ❞    she  gives  the  other’s  arm  a  gentle  squeeze,  hoping  she  really  did  get  to  enjoy  all  they  did.

now that the main ceremony is complete and the guests seem to have made it through a few rounds of drinks, she is finally able to let go of some of the tension that came with all the preparations. 　“ it wasn’t all easy, but the martells have been nothing but welcoming and intent on preparing an event worthy of their future ruling prince. ”　 even throughout the upheaval of the attacks. 　“ if the wedding is remembered fondly, in the same breath as peaceful years to come, then it will be more than worth it. ”　 that and denyse’s eventual happiness are all she wanted to come from this union. she pats the other’s hand where it rests on her arm. 　“ thank you for the support, melina. i have a suspicion that we will be mostly relegated to letters once everyone leaves, so it is lovely to spend time together while we can. ”

       ❝  so  it’s  only  me.  splendid.  ❞        a  fool he was thinking that perhaps their correspondence might have improved their relationship, but no; apparently, a single letter that had gone without answer due to his responsibilities to the realm had overshadowed everything. given her nature it was hardly a surprise. even had he responded to that last letter he was certain she simply would’ve found another reason to be cross with him.        ❝  i had thought that perhaps you might care to dance,  ❞        he retorted, any good intent the offer might have once possessed now drowned out by his aggravation.        ❝  but if you’d prefer to sulk then by all means, go on.  ❞        he wouldn’t object to not stepping onto the dance floor.

“ yes, obviously, ”　 is the response, tone expressing how clear she finds such a conclusion and slow she thinks willas is for only now realizing it. why be charming to someone so aggravating? the same behavior is admittedly also found in her interactions with others she does not care for, though her betrothed is currently at the top of a rather short list. celia’s head tilts at the mention of dancing, expression turning contemplative. fortuitously close to the area set aside for dancing, the first strains of a new song make up her mind, and she quickly steps in front of willas. 　“ i would prefer to dance. ”　 if there is anything that might make their continued proximity tolerable, surely it will be one of the activities she enjoys most. a curtsey signals the beginning of the steps and her intention not to leave him any chance to refuse.

        a  small  part  of  him  had  hoped that he might find her demeanor improved, which would warrant this exchange unnecessary, but he was met with the same curtness that he’d found in winterfell. at least it made him more certain in his decision regardless of any arguments it might cause.        ❝  it is due to the past months in winterfell that i must say this.  ❞       harrion took a deep breath and clasped his hands behind his back, standing before her not as a brother in law but as her king.        ❝  given your recent conduct toward myself and my siblings, when we depart dorne it would be for the best that you return with your older sisters to raventree hall for the foreseeable future.  ❞        while spoken with care, the order rang clear, but if she required it then he would state it plainly: winterfell’s gates were closed to her.

she waits somewhat impatiently during the preamble, the lure of further festivities a tantalizing one, but her focus turns fully to her brother by law as he continues. an incredulous gasp escapes when harrion finishes his decree, mouth slightly open in pure shock. 　“ i beg your pardon? ”　 leaving the northern seat would normally be anticipated, the people far too dour for her liking and the climate even more so  ﹔  a command to do so, however, is something else entirely. 　“ you would ban me from winterfell 　—　 have me abandon my little sister in such a time of turmoil among her new family, all for some contentious comments? ”　 the blackwood girls are not close by most standards, but celia has never been one to obey commands she dislikes.

Open starter! @reignrbs​​

Agnes had been rather unhappy with how her night was unfolding. Unable to get anywhere near Harrion, constantly pushed near her “betrothed” by her eldest sister, even the conversations had been subpar. So the Blackwood lady had made her way to one of the courtyards outside the open air ballroom, frowning into her goblet of wine. The frown quickly vanishes when she hears footsteps, a charming, welcoming smile in its place. “You know, you can almost see the stars from out here.”

when celia sees agnes step away, she has to stifle a sigh of relief. after a rather blunt aside to lord marbrand, she makes quick excuses to the others around them before stepping away and purposely making her way through the crowd to her sister, layers of tulle swishing behind her. no greeting is given as she enters the courtyard, waving away the pleasantries. 　“ oh, never mind the stars. ”　 why bother admiring them when there is a party happening, and one with such lavish preparations that all else appears dull? 　“ i have spent the entire evening at my betrothed’s side and desperately need relief  ﹔  i told him i wanted to see if you felt ill, but even if you are not i will be remaining out here as long as seems plausible. ”

         a  cheshire  grin  crept  across  his  lips. for most of the night he’d been behaving decently, mildly distracted by the attention his choice of attire had brought him, but now he’d grown antsy. if he hadn’t been able to get his friend alone then his patience may have snapped.        ❝  what a coincidence. i was also eyeing them.  ❞        he’d almost chuckled when he saw them at the start of the evening.        ❝  it’d be such a shame if one of them fell, don’t you think?  ❞

“ oh, absolutely tragic. ”　 he nods, tone full of exaggerated concern doing nothing to belie the smirk growing on his face. if the martells had wanted to avoid any chaos, they really should have thought twice about inviting islanders. the ice sculptures were practically begging for some interference. 　“ a classic case of fighting too close, do you think, or should we come up with something more creative? ”

when valeria begins a conversation she actually wants to participate in, agnar takes the opportunity to leave her side in search of sustenance. upon arriving at a table of food, however, he pauses rather than immediately choosing anything. 　“ all this variety and they couldn’t include anything recognizable. ”　 everything ornately displayed and seeming more fit for decoration than eating. 

❝  mh.  ❞    he  nods,  brow  raising  when  agnar  flatters  him.    he  is  still  eyeing  the  other,  suspiciously,  when  the  shriek  is  heard,  head  turning  quickly  towards  that  direction  just  for  a  moment  before  agnar  is  walking  away.    he  lets  out  a  sigh  and  follows,  rolling  his  eyes  as  he  does  so.    ❝  i’m  not  going  to  ask.  ––  plausible  deniability.  ❞    not  that  he  would  ever  give  the  other  in  anyway  for  whatever  it  was.    ❝  how  is  being  a  mainlander?,  ❞  he  asks,  smirk  appearing  on  his  face  as  they  walk.

agnar finds it rather unlikely that soren would rat him out, even with their deteriorated relationship, but still, 　“ probably for the best. ”　innocence can be convincingly acted, but much more easily when not tempted to laugh. grin at a successful bit of mischief fades as he rolls his eyes at the question. 　“ just delightful 　—　 i love being scared of my own shadow and unable to have any fun. ”　 as he has found most mainlanders to be. 　“ why, feeling especially close to your roots after visiting? ”

        kieran  almost  looked  bored  save  for  his smirk as he eyed the man on the ground. when the man had first taken a swing, he’d hoped for a real fight, but the initial thrilled had been short lived when the man’s weakness had quickly been revealed.         ❝  it wasn’t even that deep of a stab,  ❞        he nearly whined. eyes rolled. the other should’ve known the risks when badgering not one but too boltons. maybe he thought that them being at a wedding would’ve tempered the two of them, but if that was so then he was as brainless as he was weak.        ❝  fine, fine.  ❞        in a rare show of compliance, kieran did as he was told without any protest.        ❝  gods, he’s heavy. i’m surprised he didn’t make a louder sound when he collapsed.  ❞

agnar huffs a laugh at kieran’s complaint. 　“ it seems most of you mainlanders care more about the act of stabbing than its extent. ”　rather a ridiculous standard, if you ask him, but many such constraints are. agnar grunts slightly as they lift the body, the phrase  dead weight  coming to mind, if not actually literal for once. 　“ might as well be glad he didn’t, otherwise we would be dealing with multiple bodies to hide instead of one. ”　they move further still from the crowd, keeping to the shadows, only for agnar to pause as they approach a garden bench. 　“ here looks fine. ”　he drops the man, uncaring of adding another injury. 　“ i say we drape him across the bench as though he ran into it 　—　 the wound isn’t deep enough to be much else. ”　a glance around, the area seemingly quiet enough to cover any trace of what really happened. 　“ surely there’s an abandoned goblet of wine nearby to add to this scenario. ” 

almost  a  wish  that  the  man  had  tested  the  boundaries  of  where  agnar  would  have  allowed  him  to  look.  she  did  so  enjoy  the  fruits  of  her  husband’s  innate  jealousy  when  it  came  to  anyone  daring  to  look  at  her  exposed  flesh  on  display.  knowing  all  too  well  what  her  body  did  to  the  islander  even  in  her  normal  outfits,  but  from  the  moment  he  had  seen  her  in  this  dress  he  had  tried  to  bridge  the  gap  more  than  once,  but  she  had  denied  him.   “  your  efforts  till  now  have  simply  been  child’s  play.  i  think  a  real  challenge  is  warranted.  ”  a  smirk  danced  on  ruby  lips.  each  lord  till  now  had  been  an  annoyance  at  best  to  him,  pulling  his  focus  reluctantly  and  allowing  him  too  soon  to  return  to  where  his  gaze  obviously  desired.  an  amused  sound  at  the  growl  that  is  barely  audible  save  for  their  closeness.  his  frustration  was  surely  mounting  to  a  dangerous  peak  and  she  couldn’t  help  but  poke  at  it.  “  i  shan’t  give  an  exact  answer,  that  would  be  far  too  easy.  ”  the  hand  that  had  been  fiddling  with  his  jacket  comes  up  flat,  palm  against  his  chest,  allowing  him  only  as  far  she  wants  to  step  close  to  her.  the  point  of  his  guards  stings  against  her  skin  but  she  doesn’t  even  blink  instead  enjoying  the  sensation  as  if  calling  his  bluff.  a  brief  gaze  to  her  left,  “  i  do  believe  that  dornish  lord  is  willing  to  press  his  luck.  ”  a  small  chuckle  as  she  begins  to  turn  towards  the  handsome  lord  lingering  nearby.  would  it  be  enough  that  was  for  her  to  decide.

warding off the earlier interactions had been no more than child’s play, it’s true, but agnar does not appreciate invented requirements that will undoubtedly change the moment he has met them. valeria’s amusement at his ire only increases it, constant dismissal wearing through his patience as each moment passes. the hand to his chest stops him short, and is is only after a slow, deliberate glance at it then back up to meet her eyes that he responds,　“ and how long do you intend to play this game? ”　there is not much longer before his tolerance will be spent. his head shoots up as they are approached, but a snarl is not enough to dissuade the dornish lord. more fool him. they are greeted with an effusive 　‘ lord and lady bolton! ’　 and dramatic bow, the lord barely rising before taking valeria’s hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of it, gaze blatantly raking up her arm, over her chest, down her body, then back to her face. agnar barks a laugh, though there is no mirth in it 　—　  not simply a fool, then, but an idiot with a death wish. it takes barely a instant for his sword to be pulled from its sheath, wrist to twist so the point faces the interloper, and the flat of his blade to meet the lord’s wrist and push not-so-gently upwards. only once their hands are parted does he reverse the motion, weapon returning to its sheath in a gesture as practiced as breathing. 　“ what do you want? ”　tone as flat as his glare, but his restraint is wasted as the man continues to speak. 

that  any  weakling  lord  had  the  gumption  to  approach  them  was  impressive  enough.  the  man’s  attention  never  once  falling  below  the  way  of  valeria’s  eyesight  except  only  to  the  sword  agnar  holds.  there  is  understanding  in  his  eyes  that  if  he  dared  looked  any  lower  on  the  ruling  lady  then  agnar  might  have  had  his  eyes.  scampering  away  like  a  rat  afraid  of  a  cat.  “  if  you  can’t  scare away  the  lesser  lords,  then  you’re  not  trying  hard  enough.  ”  she  quips  all  too  pleased  with  the  results  of  her  husband’s  scary  dog  energy.  his  gaze  is  unmistakable  on  her  body  as  the  dress  leaves  little  to  the  imagination.  throughout  the  entirety  of  the  ceremony  agnar  had  tried  to  get  a  rise  out  of  her  but  she  had  been  impassive  at  his  touch.  even  now  as  the  cool  metal  of  his  finger  guards  causes  the  slightest  of  goosebumps  on  her  skin  her  face  betrays  nothing.  a  hand  comes  up  to  pick  at  a  piece  of  lint  on  his  jacket,  “  you  say  that  as  if  i’m  supposed  to  fix  it.  ”  eyes  looking  up  from  his  jacket  to  his  own.  “  i’m  not  sure  if  you’ve  done  hardly  enough  of  your  job  to  deserve  excitement.  ”  a  shrug.

the man had not taken much effort to unnerve before rushing off, though agnar had noticed his eyes steadfastly avoiding valeria 　—　 a wise decision, one which had contributed to his leaving in one piece.  her attire is an obvious taunt intended, for better or worse, to tempt him 　( enough to make him unable unwilling to look away for more than a moment ),　 and another even thinking such thoughts would not last the night. agnar huffs an incredulous laugh at the dismissal. 　“ i think i’ve just proven that such lesser lords are not worth even a moment’s attention. ”　 his or hers. the rabble is little more than a distraction, hardly worth considering opponents, only successful as far as they pull his focus away from where he would prefer to keep it. a low growl rumbles in the back of his throat, vague dissatisfaction from the beginning of their night becoming burning aggravation at her constant refusal to react. 　“ and who must i turn away for you be satisfied? ”　fingers turn so that the sharp points of the guards graze against her skin, not deep enough to draw blood but hinting at the potential, other hand reaching forward to rest on her waist as he steps closer still.

 her  eyes  are  quick  to  narrow  at  the  islander  ,  or  grounded  islander  ,  she  supposed.  “  and  if  i  am  ?  ”  there  was  no  sense  in  pretending  otherwise  ,  playing  her  game  of  a  lady  of  the  court  when  it  was  angar.  the  saltcliffe  was  proving  to  be  bolton  enough  ,  she  supposed.  a  fake  gag  sounds  from  the  lady  ,  hardly  caring  for  how  improper  it  was.  “  disgusting  ,  i  have  no  worries  in  my  mind  you’d  be  stupid  enough  to  make  such  a  mistake.  ”  it’d  then  become  a  battle  of  which  bolton  lady  harmed  him  first.  with  one  look  at  her  sister’s  dress  myr  had  no  doubts  the  ruling  lady  had  a  game  to  play  with  her  husband  ,  one  myr  didn’t  wish  to  know  the  details  of  but  would  always  place  her  bets  on  her  sister.  her  glare  only  to  snatch  the  flask  from  his  fingers  and  take  her  own  drink.  the  liquid  burned  ,  but  it  certainly  helped  her  mood  a  bit.  “  i  expected  more  fun  ,  this  is  not  fun.  ”

“ then i would advise you to do something about it rather than pout. ”　 she certainly has the capabilities to do so 　—　 agnar has spent enough time in essos to know the signs of volanti training, and is rather interested in seeing it in action. grin widens at his goodsister’s revulsion, unfounded as it is. 　“ neither foolish nor interested enough to consider it, have no fear. ”　 the bolton lady he has is the only one he wants in such a carnal way, though that will not stop his teasing. agnar huffs a laugh as she takes and drinks from the flask. 　“ i’m surprised you expected anything at all. even if the would-be tormentors do something, it will undoubtedly be as lackluster as their earlier attempts. ”　 childish and laughable as they were.

closed  starter  for  agnar  bolton  /  @feuillemorts​

❝  why  do  i  feel  like  whenever  you’re  wearing  that  stupid  grin,  you’re  up  to  no  good?  ❞    at  one  time,  they  were  close.    soren  might  have  even  been  in  on  whatever  made  agnar  look  so  pleased.    it  had  only  been  a  year  but  it  felt  like  much  longer  since  the  other  left  for  the  dreadfort.    now,  with  their  lives  intertwining  more  and  more,  avoiding  agnar  seemed  like  it  was  going  to  be  impossible.    ❝  or  is  that  look  of  blissful  ignorance  permanent?  ❞

agnar chuckles. 　“ you always did have good instincts. ”　 when they had worked in tandem those instincts had helped them win on multiple occasions, spars and sea battles alike. now such cooperation was unlikely at best. 　“ but i am entirely innocent of everything that is happening in the south corner, thank you very much. ”　 a burst of laughter punctuated by a woman’s high shriek can be heard from that very direction, and his grin sharpens as he begins to stroll away. 　“ coming? ”

 “  very  little.  ”  she  agrees  too  quickly  ,  her  brother  was  even  dressed  up  more  than  she.  astris  didn’t  find  that  offensive  ,  they  didn’t  enjoy  dressing  up  and  their  attire  was  chosen  specifically  to  suit  their  comfort  and  freedom.  even  dornish  dresses  seemed  too  constricting.  “  mmm  ,  i’ll  believe  she  didn’t  pick  that  for  you  when  i  hear  it  from  her  lips.  ”  they  stubbornly  insist.  speaking  of  the  ruling  lady  ,  astris  had  yet  to  find  her  good  sister  and  makes  a  mental  note  to  see  her  out.  “  it  is  my  favorite  ,  and  you  will  stumble  out  of  this  ballroom  if  you  try  to  take  it.  ”  it’s  a  half  threat  in  truth  ,  astris  would  never  fatally  wound  any  of  her  siblings  ,  but  she  would  rain  a  special  kind  of  hell  upon  her  brother  if  he  so  much  as  touched  her  favorite  blade.

an eye roll is his only reaction to her quick response, expectant of such distain. 　“ by all means, let her prove you wrong. though i have to wonder, since when did a mainlander rise so high in your esteem? ”　 somehow valeria had endeared herself to his sister enough for astris to actually consider the other a trustworthy source, and agnar has yet to decide how concerned he ought to be. 　“ touchy, touchy. ”　 he drawls at her threat, ever pleased to find a new avenue of teasing. 　“ did you at least kill someone interesting in order for it to earn the prized title of favorite? ”　 there is little reason to esteem a weapon if it has not been used for anything memorable, after all. 

addressed   to          :         agnar  bolton   /   @feuillemorts​

“  lord  agnar  ,  ”  rickard  greets  ,  having  waited  for  the  last  possible  moment  ,  wondering  if  perhaps  he  would  not  have  to  enter  into  another  conversation  against  his  wishes  .  but  northerners  were  harder  to  ignore  ,  a  deep  seeded  acknowledgement  between  northern  houses  begged  for  pleasantries  —  much  to  rickard’s  lone  wolfish  chagrin  .  “  i  have  just  parted  with  your  wife  .  ”  there  is  still  a  thick  blanket  of  tension  between  houses  karstark  and  bolton  ,  even  as  rickard  has  resolved  himself  to  forgive  ,  as  more  bad  blood  would  not  bring  back  his  father  .  he  preferred  to  concentrate  on  one  betrayal  at  a  time  .  “  i  was  in  search  of  mead  ,  if  you  are  interested  .  ”

“ lord rickard, ”　 he returns the greeting in kind. the northern nobility has been drilled into his head by his darling wife, the incentives she gave only just enough to keep him listening. all of the posturing and bad blood between the northern houses amuses him more than anything else; people die every day, and whether it is from natural causes or purposeful ones doesn’t change the end result, so why nurture such hatred? agnar quirks an eyebrow at the mention of valeria, almost disappointed he missed the show, before his chin tilts in the direction of a table. 　“ i believe I saw some over there. ”　 an uncomfortably hot looking gathering adds to that theory, the drink provided for foreign guests rather than dornish. he bows slightly and gestures that direction in a mockery of courtesies. 　“ after you. ” 

with  agnar  bolton     /     @feuillemorts​

        he’d  caught  glimpses  of  the  man  since the celebration started but his bolton wife had never been far and so lukas had kept a distance, circling on the outskirts of the room like a shark, waiting. he didn’t have anything against his friend’s wife; she simply wasn’t the company he wanted. he’d finished a cup of ale when at last he spotted agnar alone. smirking, he strode over and tossed his arm over the other’s shoulder.        ❝  finally free from your little wife and ready to have some real fun?  ❞

even the pleasure he derives from intimidating mainlanders is only enough to satiate his boredom momentarily at such an event, reverting back to sullen as soon as they scurry away. the arm over his shoulder is a welcome surprise, a grin growing at his friend’s words. 　“ at long last. ”　 valeria can manage for the few minutes they need to make some mischief. 　“ anything would be better than more standing around, but i have had my eye on those ice sculptures. ”