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she sighed loudly and immediately regretted this indelicate outburst. all eyes were on her, and not all of them kindly, even as they maintained polite conversation amongst themselves. amerei felt herself withering like a dying flower, the opposite of what she had arrived to do. the offer of the scone and the goblet of juice were a benevolent balm to the awkwardness of the moment. ❛❛ — my thanks, my lady. — ❞ she added it felt impolite to leave it so impersonal, so distant. a gesture of acknowledgement would be the most proper, the lady looked important by her garbs and her countenance and also familiar. before her misfortunes and headaches, she would have no hard time in knowing the lady’s life and her whole lineage. amerei glanced discreetly at the lady’s adornments, noticing the seven-star pendant resting on her cleavage and her green dress. lady alerie, of oldtown. amerei had met her plenty of times before during the last tourney of the seven, lord perceon hosted. ❛❛ — lady hightower, you are too kind. — ❞ she opened a bright smile, reminiscent of her past self, far too pleased with herself. ❛❛ — have you ever been to dorne, my lady? i never traveled that far south. but my grandmother is dornish. of house dayne. the riverlands can be quite humid too. in peak summer, as children, we would swim in the river to cool ourselves. and it rains a lot. but it is beautiful. — ❞ oh how she missed those times, more than anything. amerei had suffered a couple of winters in her short life, but this autumn was only a preview that this time it would be worse.
the eyes around the table were quick to slide sidelong glances to the riverlady. should she rise and make her leave from the table now, alerie would estimate it would take a mere few minutes for the conversation to shift to amerei in her absence. her stature, her clothing, her recovery or obvious lack thereof. it was rather easy to become the topic of conversation at tables such as these, meddlesome nobles with hardly much else to do but jabber on about their opinions on those not present to speak for themselves.
the younger woman's graciousness and the smile that finally brightened her features relieved alerie's soft heart, glad to see an expression on her gaunt face that wasn't weighed down by discomfort. " i cannot say that i have , " she admits, thinking of the places she has taken to travel for tourneys or weddings or celebrations of the sort about the realm. she could count on one hand the few times she has left the southern kingdoms, and yet dorne still remained a bit of mystery.
" my good sister is formerly a dayne herself ! " alerie lays a hand atop amerei's frail one at the realization of the connection. " old town is not at all far from starfall, and i had always hoped allyria might one day show me the home she knew before cider hall. although, i suppose sunspear may be my first taste of dorne, yet . " she spent long hours imagining the great, magical stronghold nestled amongst the red mountains as allyria had described it to her when she was younger.
the riverlands were as far north as alerie had ever found herself. she remembers them being beautiful, but having a thrum of something wild hidden just beneath the surface. she could feel it on the wind, the vine-laced trees hiding more than succulent fruit. " of the few times i've ventured to the riverlands, i do recall it's great beauty , " she agrees with the lady of her homeland. " i imagine seagard is much more temperate a port city than old town being so far north , " she muses. alerie could hardly comprehend the vastness of the true north, imagining amerei's home dusted with crystals of ice even nearing the neck.
"i find it is the ones who do not realize what their station is or the ones who feel they can do whatever it is they please without consequence." devrim normally did not wish to judge others, but what he has seen this kingsmoot from some of these people who are meant to uphold justice and respect, was something he was finding hard to ignore. the realm was on the line and they preferred to whore and drink their days away. "it must be a normal occurrence for a hightower to find the sept," he muses as they walk through the stone corridors of the red keep, his arm perfectly still as it holds the lady's own. "what guidance do they offer to you? perhaps an answer to this madness? or do they only trust those close enough?" if they had offered him anything after his wife and child were brutally murdered, perhaps he would find faith in them more often.
alerie chuckles softly at his question, a sound like gently rustling leaves, amused by the notion that the gods might place a solution to such convoluted matters plainly in the lap of even the most pious. though it does at times seem like her good father, the new hand, acts with the confidence of a man with such faith. " sadly not , " she answers honestly. they do not even seem to wish to grant her answers regarding her own personal matters. she has lit a candle for the mother each morning and night so that she may grace her womb with a child, and yet she is married seven years with no heir to speak of.
" perhaps the problem lies in the fact that too few people have turned to their guidance. if each person turns inwards rather than upwards, they will all follow a different path, but if we all look to the gods as one, perhaps they will reveal to us a guiding star , " her fingers of her hand not clasping his elbow rise to press the pendant of the seven-pointed star to her chest, warmed by her skin. a guiding star of sorts would be well appreciated right now amongst all of the havoc of this kingsmoot thus far. admittedly, she hoped it would point homeward, away from dragons and dorne and deception.
"better that than mischief making other nobles have found as of late." he thinks of elianna, viserra, even that rivers bastard. making the city their play place as if it isn't in absolute disaster, smallfolk dead and begging for coin to rebuild their lives. "the sun is quite beautiful, if only we were able to enjoy such a thing without a threat." devrim got to, but only through an armored helm as he stood guard at the gates of the red keep. "i have not prayed much, my lady, no. it is hard to find the time in between my duties," or was it his questioning and curiosity of other faiths that made him see the seven differently now? he could not admit such a thing to a hightower's wife, lest he be strung up and gelded. "perhaps i can walk you back to your chambers and you can tell me more about your prayers." devrim extends an arm toward her.
" mischief making ? at a time like this ? " alerie's blonde brows raised high into her hairline. she knew there were some nobles whose preference was debauchery rather than manners, but she had hoped in an environment that seemed as dire as this, those individuals would choose their safety over whatever other poor choices they deemed to make in the night.
" that would be lovely, ser , " she accepts his arm graciously, her hold in the crook of his elbow light and modest. though she had never been one for praying in her youth, it was hard not to fall into the habit when you marry into the most zealous pious of families in the realm. " i must admit, i did not always make the time for prayer myself, but in days like these, my lord husband reminds me that it is through the seven's guidance that we will find our way . " mother above, she sounds like a zealot herself. perhaps her words would hold more conviction if the gods were more inclined to answer her prayers.
STATUS: SEMI-OPEN with @rottedhearts @graveruins @firercts @tragic-keepers @ofglcry @retrouviel
LOCATION: the gardens of the red keep, five days after the discovery of the missing.
she clinged to normalcy with the same drive it took her to survive the fall and the waters of the blackwater rush. the maesters had cleared her of the worst of her injuries, for they could do nothing for her mind, where she truly felt the most disturbed. they bandaged her ribs and shoulders, and she hid the balmed linens under the silk and wool of her clothes, wearing cloaks over her beautiful dresses she would never have dared before, and she left her family's watchful eyes as soon as she could. pretending until she believed her own follies was a better step to recovery than any concoction a maester could force down her body, amerei assured herself as she took those next steps to where she could see a couple of noble lieges, lords and ladies reunited at the gardens under a nice shade, with plenty of fruits and juice for their delight. a nice rendezvous she would definitely be invited, or even hosted, before. and now she felt so undeniably ungraceful, barging in uninvited.
her foot caught and almost made her slip and fall on the cobblestones, she was too weak, her limbs frail and unresponsive as a newborn mare, still recovering from the past week without sustenance. ❛❛ — m-my lieges. do not stop on my account. were you discussing our possible move to dorne? exciting, i-is it not? — ❞ her voice trembled in many words, and her smile followed it, to amerei's dismay. amerei was not sure that was the actual topic of the conversation, her head was so foggy she could barely do something as simple as recalling the seconds before. she picked the first subject she could think of, to keep the flow of the conversation, but her mere presence was a deterrent. still, she persevered, against her own body and mind's betrayal, and held the smile as long as she could, lowering her face when she could not. she took a seat, her movements slow and wretched, with none of the whimsy flow amerei was always proud to be known for. all while feeling eyes on her. were they pitying her? for the first time in her life amerei simply wished that no one paid attention to her. that she could disappear in obscurity among the many ladies and lords of no importance. she was a shell of a woman, with only the hope that some day she would open her eyes and feel normal again; such miracle was impossible.
it felt odd to return to such normalcy after such a tragedy. chattering with fellow nobles in the gardens while across the city, the homes of smallfolk still smoldered. even some of their own were confined to sick beds thanks to the injuries they had sustained. her good father was one step closer to the crown thanks to it all, and yet everything still felt ... flat.
the sudden appearance of the lady mallister was only a stark reminder. her frail form was swallowed by a cloak even in the southern heat, though to her credit she was hiding the physical damage well. her eyes revealed a different story as she all but collapsed into the chair next to alerie. she caught the glances shared around the table, the lull in conversation that was quickly recovered to maintain politeness. but beside her, lady amerei looked as though she would soon blow away in the wind and she would welcome the leave with open arms.
alerie leaned forward to pluck a scone from a pile of them in the middle of the table and placed it on the plate in front of amerei, nudging her own goblet of juice in her direction. " some sustenance may help, my lady , " she offered lowly enough for just the woman beside her to hear. " i hear the heat of dorne rivals even the arbor's most sweltering summers , " she announces a bit louder to carry on the conversation that the riverlady had abruptly begun.
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when: after the council meeting, shortly before the court departs for dorne
who: open !
the lord of highgarden finds the gardens of the red keep to be… lacking. it has been sometime since he has been out here, though he supposes he must get used to this place, considering now that he has a place on the council. it feels good, to finally be recognized. and it was his father, of all people, who recommended him for the job – which sweetens the deal all the more. harlon and his father had a complicated relationship, to say the least, so to feel as though the man has finally gone to bat for him… it's nice.
but there is still much and more to do, of course. with the city in ruin and its people devastated by dragonfire, there is much on harlon's plate, so to speak. he will need to tend to much over the coming days if he is to truly do his due diligence before the court is to depart.
it feels wrong, leaving the city behind at such a perilious time. yet, it is necessary.
as he takes a seat on a nearby bench, he hears footsteps approach. “if you've come to address council business, i'm afraid i cannot help you at the moment,” he says with a sigh to the stranger he's yet to gaze upon. “i needed to clear my head of all that, hence my presence here.”
the gardens of the red keep were the one place in this wretched city that could truly remind alerie of home. though the the perfumes of the wide variety of flowers was still rather foreign, it was the sounds of the birds and the rustle of the leaves that comforted her the most. she found the lack of trees in this city rather disturbing, and the largest one she could find with the most beautifully dappled shade was what she now sought.
it seemed she was not the only reachman with the same thought. " no, my lord, i'm afraid my place is not with the council , " alerie chuckled softly, imagining herself in her good father's seat amongst the true power of westeros, advising the future king or queen. she would much rather take up that hobby in a more private place. " although, i understand well what you mean by coming here to clear your head , " she gestured to the bench beside him for permission before she sat down.
" it's no highgarden , " she teased gently, looking around at the gardens that would be vastly impressive... if they hadn't spent time with the leige lords of the reach, that is. " but it provides some semblance of home, does it not ? "
In this here gif hunt you’ll find 644 gifs of Holliday in the episodes of ‘C.B. Strike’, episodes entitled ‘Lethal White’. All these gifs were made by me, so please don’t claim as your own. Do NOT put into other gif hunts. If credit is given, you may use/edit them as sidebars, crackships, etc, just please ( @ ) me in your creations!
trigger warnings for: panic attacks, violence, guns, blood, and kidnapping
in the source link you'll find 342 GIFS of HOLLIDAY GRAINGER in THE STOLEN GIRL (2025). all of them were made by me from scratch, for roleplay purposes. DO NOT repost, edit in any way or claim as your own. and if you find them useful, a LIKE / REBLOG would be much appreciated.
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set during the day after the conclusion of the council, the dorne decision ruminating. ser devrim is stood near the entrance of the keep when a figure — @firedreamt, @firercts, @eclipt1cs, @fromashe, @rottedhearts, @ofglcry — appears from the shadows of the setting sun.
devrim is a man built on principal, it was ridiculous when he thought about it truly. when all he had seen throughout his time as a knight was not what the title stood for at all. the kingsguard were not as virtuous as the people made them out to be, but he was hoping to uphold as much as he could. perhaps even though funny methods when there was no king to guard. "the curfew is almost here, my liege," he nods at the person approaching. he was not technically on duty, but that did not stop worry. nor did it stop the need for a moment before he too would be holed up until morning. "what fares of the city tonight? of you?"
" thank you, ser , " alerie offers the guard a polite smile and a nod of thanks for the reminder, though the orange hues of the sky behind her might offer the same idea. " i was lost in prayer in the sept when the sun sinking below the stained glass reminded me i ought make my way home , " she explained. while she may not truly be the picture of piety that she leads others to believe, the sept is a place she is able to find some peace and quiet in the raucous city away from the bustling keep that has taken on a rather somber air as of late. though after the attacks, even the sept seemed rather full today.
" have you prayed to our gods as of late, ser devrim ? " she did not mean the words to come across accusatory, they had simply been a curiosity. though as they leave her lips, the heavy weight of the seven-pointed star dangling from her neck reminds her that she may be looking closer to a scolding septa in that moment.
❛ let me stay tender-hearted , despite despite despite . . . ❜
the hand of the late king welcomes alerie hightower nee fossoway, the wife to the heir of oldtown, to the kingsmoot. the realm knows them to be gracious and steady, but the master of whisperers has unearthed information that speaks to their staunch and naive tendencies. to dream of them would be to dream of the ripest apple hung from the bough just out of reach, a polite smile curving a lady’s lips, the steadfastness of a tree in a windstorm. they themselves dream of the hightowers on the throne. time is an unwieldy mistress, and only she may tell who will sit the iron throne when the dust settles.
a sweet red apple belonging to a world whose fangs desire only the sweetness of its insides. a childhood in the lushness of the reach was soft and inviting. she was a child who indulged in honeycakes and ran barefoot through the orchards, returning home to be scolded for the twigs stuck in her golden curls and the mud dampening the hem of her dress. she counted stars from her window and dreamed of a love match to a shining prince or a golden knight. she hardly knew toil in her younger years, raised to be a perfect, picturesque reachwoman who would one day inflate the family’s standings to even higher heights. it was a kind-mannered nature that was instilled in her, a pacifism that didn’t fit the ferocity of the political landscape she would one day step into. she was taught that life is a game of appearances, and to achieve anything at all, you must be as bright and sweet as the ripest fruit upon the highest boughs. though for the amiably-natured alerie, this came much easier than the cunning that the lord fossoway hoped would slither beneath.
she accepted her place in the world passively rather than taking it, but she has made the most of her situation. she is soft-hearted in an uncaring realm, but in her kindness to people who have needed it dearly, she has made strong alliances. but in her guilessness, there are plenty who seek to take advantage. both the fossoways and the hightowers are houses that know the cleverest ways to climb, whether it be the steady boughs of an apple tree or the unwavering stone of a castle’s highest turret, and a woman with her round apple cheeks and gentle smile can make waves even she may not recognize. there is a juxtaposition to the between what she has found herself surrounded by and the softness of her nature, but she continues to devote herself with her heart and stands by the ones she loves.
her inner turmoil comes in the shape of her inability to face her own desires. her heart wants to please everyone she cares for, she tells herself that her highest desire is to see the people she loves get what they want, even if they are conflicting, even at the cost of what she desires for herself. there is a fuzzy grey line between what she thinks is right and what she would do because it is what her loved ones want. a soft heart is a malleable one, after all.
#1 . BASICS
FULL NAME: alerie rosanne hightower nee fossoway NICKNAMES: aly, al AGE: six and thirty TITLE: lady of oldtown, wife to the heir BIRTHDATE: july 17 PLACE OF BIRTH: cider hall, the reach, westeros GENDER + PRONOUNS: cis woman + she/her SEXUAL + ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: heterosexual, heteroromantic RELIGION: faith of the seven MARITAL STATUS: married
#2 . PHYSICAL
FACECLAIM: holliday grainger HAIR + STYLE: long, ash blonde hair, soft curls. she typically wears her hair half-up, enough to keep her hair back from her face but allow it to still flow free. EYE COLOR: brown. HEIGHT: 5'7 / 170 cm. BUILD: lean SCENT: apple, sandalwood, cinnamon, cedar DISTINGUISHING FEATURES/b> doe eyes, blonde curls, pendant of the seven-pointed star around her neck. CLOTHING STYLE: most commonly in greens, she dresses modestly as the faith suggests, though she has been known to push the barriers every so often. she prefers subdued colors nowadays, blues and soft greens as opposed to her youth when she’d most often be found in bronze and reds. she would rather wear flowy dresses than anything restrictive, and she can’t ever recall a time she wore pants. she is always sporting a seven-pointed star pendant and is often seen twirling the chain around her finger idly.
#3 . PERSONALITY
TRAITS: gracious, steady, charming, devoted, patient, kind, naive, staunch MBTI: enfj + the protagonist ENNEAGRAM: the giver ELEMENT: earth STAR SIGN: cancer sun, libra moon, taurus rising TEMPERAMENT: phlegmatic DEADLY SIN: pride HEAVENLY VIRTUE: patience GODLY PARENT: demeter CHARACTER INSPIRATION: margaery tyrell
#4 . FAMILIAL
FATHER: lord lorence fossoway MOTHER: lady shireen fossoway née bar emmon SIBLINGS: rosalei lannister, edmure fossoway, desmera fossoway (half) SIGNIFICANT OTHER: lord elyas hightower CHILDREN: tbd ETC: house hightower by marriage
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