ăăăăâŠăăă.ăă. ăâËă.ăăăăă . âŠăăă ăËăăăă . â â. ăăă.ââ ăăËăă ăă*ăă ăăâŠăăă.ăăăă#OATHBCUND, an hqcrowns dependent blog, as penned by odette (27, she/her, gmt-1), exploring the themes of: fairytale heroes, the sea as a prison and creativity as an escape.
don't be led away by those howls about realism. remember - pine woods are just as real as pigsties and a darn sight pleasanter to be in
DALLEN TARTH. general tag, interactions, inspiration, playlist, introduction
RHOSLYN TULLY. general tag, interactions, inspiration, playlist, introduction
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@celesticls asked: ' i don't think i've ever seen you smile. ' ( daella to christopher )
.ăă. ăâËă. ââ â i smile,â â ââ â he says, making no move to prove the princess wrong, neutral expression firmly etched in his features. it is the same look he was wearing when she made the comment, and the same one that's greeted the keep since he joined the kingsguard, almost never cracking. he is no saint, after all, and the keep attracts too many colorful people for him to maintain a perfect record, but he tries. it is part of the job, after all.
@crueltied asked: â here, give this a try and tell me what you think. â from adem to dallen!
.ăă. ăâËă.ăwith a slight nod, dallen accepts the hilt of the sword, holding it carefully in his palm as he tests the weight. it takes him a second to become acquainted with the weight, another for his grip to find the correct handle on the hilt, and one final more for him to make friends with it. the weapon spins in his hand, cutting the air with ease.â â ââ â 'tis beauty. named it yet?â â ââ
@celesticls asked: ' if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ' ( willas to dallen )
.ăă. ăâËă.ă smile cracks at the corner of his lips. not his usual smile, which gleams like a knife, cutting away the softness in his features. no, this one was an actual smile; kind, content to exist without calling the entire worldâs attention to it, curling with affection as he leaned back in the chair to watch his friend pace about the room. â
â ââ â i know you are unused to it, but you got to lean into the pain. those are called thoughts. i know, i know. youâve never heard of them before, donât be alarmed. they are normal amongst us good, smart folk.â â â
@crueltied asked: â books mean more to me than people anyway â from jacaerys to ros !! <3
.ăă. ăâËă.ăâ rhoslyn hums at the prince's words, taking a second to consider and not insult him. usually, there is no need for such an exercise, the wrong words never even crossing her mind, but his opinion is so opposite to hers that she requires a second to organize her thoughts.
that is either a self-congratulatoryremark on his taste in literature, or a very pointed criticism to the company he keeps. which might, if she thinks too much about it, include her.
ââ â that's cause you've only found the right books,â â ââ â she says, dash of mirth playing in her eyes.â â ââ â and the wrong people. don't tell me you enjoy the company of all books!â â ââ â
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@celesticls asked: ' im trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ' ( daella to rhoslyn )
.ăă. ăâËă.ăâ back straight, neck tense, rhoslyn focuses all of her energy in concealing the apprehension bubbling up in her stomach behind something which might closely resemble a smile. yes, her hair is a mess. something out of a folktale about a witch, maybe. dark locks, usually coiffed back in a braid or held back with purple adornments are tangled up in her neck and clumping up by her temples, a cruel trick of fate â or, more accurately, the handiwork of one of the children running around in the castle.
she tried to say no. really, really tried, but the word got stuck in her throat when the child looked up at her with pleading eyes and the words of course you can play with my hair, fell out instead.
ââ â just tell me. be honest with me... will i have to cut it?â â ââ â â she asks, voice breaking at the end.
muses participating: dallen tarth, rhoslyn tully, christopher payne**
** i'll post christopher's introduction later on today, in the quickest of summaries: a knight of the kingsguard, known for his bravery, loyalty and dedication. quiet, unassuming, a true believer in the faith ( even if like... plagued by questions ).
â THE polite smile stretches her face to its limit, but once the eye contact ends and her former conversation partner leaves, vanora's expression slackens to one of vague disinterest and boredom. she had spent a good portion of the evening speaking with potential suitors for her sister, but the repetitive formalities had tested even her own patience, and she was now joining the majority of guests in taking advantage of the free drinks, in hopes of putting her mind off of responsibilities. the wine did not aid her frustration, nor did it distract her, but it did give her something to glare at as she gets lost in her thoughts.
MENTALLY going through her very short list of lords who were somewhat worthy of her sister's hand, she did not notice she had company until shoes appeared in periphery. â pardon me, I was lost in my thoughts. did you say something? â as her gaze snaps up, her mask falls back into place, polite smile ready to go.
.ăă. ăâËă.ăâ ââ â not yet. i was going to ask about your gown, but now i'm curious about what's got you so distracted.â â ââ â brown gaze meets vanora's before sweeping across the room; it is the same as it was the quarter hour before, and the hour prior to that, even the conversation, she's noticed, taking turns around the room, seem frozen in amber, the same platitudes repeated to exhaustion.â â ââ â it must be something interesting to distract you from such... splendour,â â ââ â she says, eyes finally returning to vanora's, a touch of playfulness curling at the corner of her lips.
â HE wasn't spying. he was barely snooping. it wasn't his fault they had only deemed to block off the way to the royal family's dormitories, and not the tower that held the meeting chamber of the small council. of course, willem was simply curious as to if the king had decided on a hand yet and whether he could sneak his way into the position, and the door had been left unlocked, practically inviting him in. satisfied that no one had been chosen yet, he quietly closes the door behind him as he leaves the room, only to come face to face with someone who had decidedly not been there when willem had arrived earlier. â and just what exactly do you think you're doing here? â he asks with the confidence of someone who is exactly where he's supposed to be.
.ăă. ăâËă.ăâ â surprise is a funny, tricky little thing. in the span of a second, as her heart jumped to her throat at his words, rhoslyn forgot that she had a legitimate good reason to be there. something of his tone. or of his countenance. one or the other, it struck her into dumb silence. â â ââ â i apologize,â â ââ â â she says, knowing it is the right thing to say, regardless of the situation. the apology gives her enough time to compose herself. her usual smile returns to her features, the realization that she's not in the wrong here tucked away behind it. â â ââ â i was looking for --, oh, it's unimportant. just a note the queen asked me to deliver. the castle is quite in disarray these days. we're all doing things we don't usually do.â â ââ
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.ăă. ăâËă.ăâ â closing the door behind her with a soft click, rhoslyn crossed the room in a few quick, delicate strides, instinctively tucking a lock of alerie's hair behind her ear when she reached her side.â â ââ â there. a moment. â ââ â a pause. playful smile remains on her lips for a moment longer before giving way to a more serious expression, concern touching her features. what she came in here to say, the second-hand information she'd been dying to share with her, forgotten.â â â ââ â i think you deserve two. wouldn't you agree? â â
➻   announcing the arrival of  RHOSLYN TULLY , ladyof  RIVERRUN .
sometimes she did not know what she feared, what she desired: whether she feared or desired what had been or what would be, and precisely what she desired, she did not knowÂ
stats.
NAME : Â rhoslyn tully
NICKNAME: rhos, rho, lynn,
TITLES : lady of riverrun
GENDER : cisfemale
PRONOUNS: she/her
AGE: twenty-six
HOUSE : riverrun hall
ORIENTATION : bisexual
RELIGION : the faith of the seven
LANGUAGES Â SPOKEN Â : Â common tongue
FACECLAIM : Â simay barlas
HAIR : dark brown hair which reaches her waist. it has a slight curl to it, and in the sunlight, it gains a red sheen
EYE : Â brown
HEIGHT : Â 163cm
biography.
the golden child. it is not that there was something rhoslyn did better than anyone else, but there was just something about her. a golden sheen. a magical touch. everything she touched, the way she spoke, honeyed and sweet, it was simply irresistible. her sweet nature, kind ways, made her a favorite everywhere she went, much to the detriment of her twin sister, who lived perpetually in her shadow, who, while far cleverer than sweet-tempered rhoslyn, could never command a room.
at a young age, she was chosen to be one of queen alerie's companions. by her side, she mastered most of the usual accomplishments of a girl her age. she is a graceful dancer, a noted singer, and, most importantly, is a master at talk. all sort of talk. even when she has no idea what she is talking about, rhoslyn has the gift of speaking in a way that is just so pleasing, that it's easy to overlook small mistakes. it was also in this enviourment that she started liking the finer things in life. not a month goes by without her purchasing a new gown, or a ribbon, or a charming little parasol. she's often late to gatherings because she has to change her outfit three times before being happy.
at her core, she's someone who values family, duty, and, above all else, perseverance. and she lives by it. often nicknamed her family's carer, she's often running about, putting out fires, unruffling feathers. her mother panics about her not being married yet, her father worries about his political ambitions, her sister's pride is often wounded, she's never still.
knowledge   is   power   &   when   it   came   to   his   son   ,   cameron   knew   well   enough   that   he   could   play   among   the   best   of   them   .   â   because   your   mother   &   i   raised   you   to   know   which   fork   to   use   .   â   the   elder   tarth   mused   .   â   but   i   am   serious   .   no   running   amuck   .   â
.ăă. ăâËă.ăâ ââ â i never run amuck,â â ââ â â dallen corrects with a tilt of his head, tutting slightly at his father.â â ââ â it is not my fault that i special talent for running into trouble. â â ââ â â it wasn't a straight-up lie. it was true that he never meant to get into any trouble, but only because he always thought he could solve the problem in front of him before the tides shifted.
* ( @oathbcund ! ) âž» hand pats his sons shoulder . â best behaviour , dallen . â cameron certainly should not have to warn him & yet , he does so anyway.
.ăă. ăâËă.ăthere is far too much cleverness in his expression for him feign innocence with any success. when he glances at his father, he attempts to tuck away his smirk, the jest in his eyes, but it pushes through his mask âž» heâs never been able to hide from his gaze. â â ââ â just because i play at uncivilized, doesnât mean i donât know which fork to use.â â ââ
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if  anyone  asks  ,  alicent  really  does  try  her  best  to  restrain  her  anger  but  as  always  ,  she  tragically  fails  --  in  a  blink  she  has  mutated  into  a  raging  fire  ,  cheeks  burning  ember  ,  brows  furrowed  and  fists  clenched  .  "  hey  !  "  she  yells  at  the  running  delinquent  ,  "  you  coward  !  i  will  stab  your  eye  in  your  sleep  then  steal  your  first  born  !  "  she  threatens  into  the  air  ,  the  crowd  turning  heads  in  confusion  and  disgust  but  her  anger  remains  .  she  turns  to  her  apparent  saviour  of  purses  ,  a  frown  still  from  the  prior  scene  .  "  and  who  are  you  ?  "
.ăă. ăâËă.ă dallen can't mask his surprise behind his usual smile. it bursts across his features, eyes widening with amusement as he watches the scene, torn between examining the rage-filled women, and the shocked faces of the passer-bys, who stopped and turned to see if she was serious or not.â â ââ â a boy like that... kind of hard to track his first-born,â â ââ â he replies instead, thoughtfully.â â ââ â what would a girl like you do with a child, anyway?â â ââ
.ăă. ăâËă.ăâ â ââ â don't let me distract you,â â ââ â he says, both hands raised in front of his chest, the universal sign of surrender. a coronation was no place to bicker. and while dallen is many things, impolite is never one of them.â â
