𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘.

"I am sure if you had asked, some liege probably would have taken the chance to show off so they could teach you how to do so. But then again I heard not all northerners are nice." He teased about the region. It earned Dominic some looks but he did not care.

“i  wish  you  luck  then,”  she  says  with  a  polite  smile.  “when  does  that  take  place?  i  will  be  sure  to  watch  you.”

he  must  have  been  searching  for  almost  two  hours  now  and  still  no  luck.  he  huffed  impatiently  as  he  came  to  a  halt  next  to  the  statue  of  cregan  and  was  unwillingly  pulled  into  a  shallow  conversation.  "if  you  want  my  honest  opinion,  i'd  say  it  is  a  blatant  show  of  overcompensation,"  he  stated  bluntly  with  a  slight  roll  of  his  eyes.  no  one  ever  wanted  erich's  brutally  honest  opinion  but  he'd  still  give  it  anyway.  "and  they  got  his  nose  wrong.  it's  a  little  too  big  and  the  bulbous  tip  serves  no  justice  to  an  otherwise  rather  handsome  face,"  he  noted  as  he  studied  the  statue  once  more.  "it  was  a  good  turn  out  for  the  procession  but  that  resulted  in  a  lot  of  accidental  stepped  on  toes.  a  clumsy  oaf  treaded  on  my  wife's  foot  ,  not  once  but  twice,  mind  you,"  he  grumbled  in  irritation.

“i  take  it  you  knew  him  well,  then?”  she  questions  curiously.  enough  to  know  that  this  statue  got  his  features  wrong,  at  least.  so  she  has  to  wonder,  how  exactly  did  he  know  the  old  wolf  of  the  north?

“i  am  sorry  to  hear  such  a  thing,  my  lord.  i  suppose  i  am  not  surprised,  considering  how  big  the  turn  out  was,  but  still,  that  is  quite  frustrating…”  she  frowns  slightly.  “did  i  hear  you  were  looking  for  something,  or  am  i  mistaken?”

hallis  had  spent  the  majority  of  the  day  drinking  and  laughing  at  those  who  took  part  in  the  games.  it  was  rather  hilarious,  watching  some  of  the  southern  houses  make  fools  of  themselves.  hallis  had  enjoyed  himself  a  bit  too  much  and  now  he  found  himself  stumbling  around,  drunk.  his  sisters  would  not  be  happy  if  they  found  him  like  this. he  made  his  way  around  to  pick  up  another  cup  of  ale  but  when  he  turned  around,  he  slammed  directly  into  someone.  he  groaned  and  threw  his  hands  up  in  defeat.  "of  course  this  would  happen  to  me!"  he  exclaimed.  "now  i  need  to  get  another  drink."  he  continued.  "now  please..  try  not  to  make  me  drop  it."

she's  walking  around  the  festivities  when  suddenly,  she  collides  with  another.  the  collision  nearly  sends  her  directly  into  the  cold  ground,  but  luckily  she  is  quick  on  her  feet  and  manages  to  stop  before  she  falls.  she  looks  up  into  the  half-lidded  eyes  of  a  northern  lord,  reaching  out  to  him  briefly  for  stabilization.  “apologies,  my  lord!”  she  quickly  says,  releasing  her  grip  on  him.

he  is  lucky  that  his  drink  did  not  spill  all  over  her  dress.

“i  will  do  my  best,”  she  says,  almost  sarcastically.  “is  this  drink  any  good?”  she  asks  curiously  as  she  joins  him  in  grabbing  another.  she'd  never  had  northern  ale  before.

"Well im not much a hammer throwing guy but I've seen quite a few people throw it earlier in the day more farther. I take it the leige isn't one who is used to doing as so." He answered. Dominic half expected the other to make a comment on him for what he said but just maybe they were also in agreement.

she  chuckles  slightly  when  he  says  that  he  may  well  be  talking  completely  out  of  turn.  it  is  not  as  if  she  knows  any  better,  though.  she  knows  little  and  less  of  these  northern  style  games.

“i  think  i  will  be  quite  content  to  watch  from  the  sidelines…  truthfully,  i  am  not  quite  sure  how  much  of  this  is  even  supposed  to  be  done.  i  fear  i  would  just  make  a  fool  of  myself  if  i  were  to  participate.  will  you  be  participating,  my  lord?”

"It has been quite some time since the North has played host to many people. At least that is what my lord husband has told me. So I would not say it was not a disturbance just more along the lines of having to prepare and hoping there is enough." They were all still recovering from the last five years. Rosalyn had even asked her ruling cousin for help. She did not want to as rhe Vale had already helped out so much but last thing she had wanted was to hear some Southerner complain of them lacking things.

“it  has  been,”  she  confirms  with  a  smile.  “i  appreciate  your  grace,  lady  stark..  truly.”  she  looks  off  in  the  distance  for  a  moment  before  her  gaze  falls  back  on  the  northern  lady.  “you  have  children,  do  you  not?  we  should  arrange  for  our  children  to  meet.  i  think  it  would  do  them  all  some  good.”

she  nearly  jolts,  eyes  widening  and  mouth  parting  in  gasp.  but  it  takes  only  a  heartbeat  for  recognition  to  ignite,  and  daera  forces  the  tension  out  of  her  body  in  an  exhale.

"yes,  yes.  i'm  okay,  daenys."  she  raises  her  hand,  fingertips  feather-light  on  the  back  of  her  sister's  hand.  "i  ---  i  was  thinking  of  father."  a  smaller  truth.  she  would  not  yet  lie  to  daenys.  "i  .  .  .  i  miss  him  terribly.  and  so  much  more  on  a  day  like  today."

“i…  i  understand.  the  years  have  not  made  the  loss  any  easier,  no  matter  how  much  everyone  says  it  will…”  she  sighs.  “shall  we  go  somewhere  more  quiet,  more  private?”

“no,  of  course  not,”  she  shakes  her  head  along  with  her  words.  she  looks  to  him  again,  brow  slightly  furrowed.  “please,  take  all  the  time  you  need…  i  will  not  bother  you  with  my  thoughts  if  it  is  quiet  reflection  you  were  hoping  for.”

the grunt comes. wrinkles gather at the corners of their eyes as they squint, not yet having formed an opinion upon the statue. eyeing the princess with both respect and suspicion, still uncertain of how to read her smile, but the lady dayne rarely smiles for anybody. she was not the full targaryen representation, all too willing to be folded against love, but for the martells, perhaps that was for the best. but for dorne? ❝ the procession was thoughtful, but why need an idol or reminder? did his actions not speak louder than the rest of it? ... i would strike a statue down of me. ❞ another grunt. everyone is far too willing to exaggerate how nice and well - thought a man was when he passed.

❝ let my legacy speak for itself. folk will say what they wish ... your grace. they'll stand at the feet of this statue and take out all they couldn't on the living. it disturbs me, but ... ❞ ending with a shrug. she clearly enjoys it, entertains the notion. acrasia, rather aware of how they don't wish to fumble a tentative friendship with their liege martell's spouse.

“you  really  think  so?”  she  says,  brow  furrowed  as  she  looks  over  at  her.  “at  least  the  craftsmanship  is  quite  well  done,  wouldn't  you  say?”

“i  imagine  that  must  be  difficult,”  she  nods,  still  smiling  as  she  remains  kneeling  beside  her  friend.  “and  how  do  you  imagine  they  will  take  it?  i  know  the  southerners  expect  grace  from  us,  but…”  she  sighs  heavily.  “somewhat,”  the  lady  nods.  “though  i  think  i  mostly  just  want  to  get  this  over  with.”

“you  are  too  kind,”  she  chuckles  lightly,  looking  down  for  just  a  moment  as  her  cheeks  burn  before  looking  back  up  at  him.  “it  is,  you  know  it  is!”  she  insists,  reaching  across  the  table  to  lightly  push  him  in  jest. 

“fine,  i  suppose  that  will  work…  and  i  appreciate  that,  beron,  i  really  do.  we  all  do.  it  has  been  hard  but…  i  dunno,  the  sooner  these  southerners  depart,  the  better.”

the targaryen princess ( for that was what daenys would always be to her, no matter how many dornish babes she bore for akshay, just as coryanne would always be the martell princess ) was something of a mystery to her ─ in many ways, they mirrored each other in that they had been forced to serve as pawns to ensure the peace between their people. love had blossomed, slowly but surely, between coryanne and gaemon, but she had never been comfortable enough to prod her siblings about their own love lives, and the idea of akshay, softening for his targaryen bride, sat uneasily in the gut. was this how the rest of westeros saw her ? an outsider, one that would sway their king into making wrong decisions ? it made her sympathetic to daenys for a brief moment, enough that she accepts the arm that is offered, leaning into her goodsister for warmth. coryanne hated that they had been forced so far north for a dead man she cared naught for, but perhaps something good might come from this. ❝ it is times like these when i do not envy your brother for the burden he carries ... king, conciliator and miracle worker. ❞ coryanne rolled her eyes, allowing the conversation to flow towards more pleasant topics. she groaned as she thought of her pregnancy, the weight of the babe heavy on her back. ❝ well enough, all things considered. i am trying to make my peace with the fact that i will likely have this baby in the north or gods forbid, the riverlands. ❞ she grimaced. ❝ we've brought all three of the boys ... it will be good for baelon to see his future kingdom and well ... if baelon goes, then aeryn must go. ❞ and she would not be parted from rhaegar, though that needn't mention. ❝ if you need some time to yourself, please feel free to drop nymor and rhaena off with me ... i intend to stay inside whenever possible, and rhaegar could use the company. his brothers are ... less patient with him. ❞

she  doesn't  want  to  dwell  too  much  on  that  though.  especially  not  when  her  goodsister  is  being  so  kind.  it  would  be  silly  to  disrupt  the  fragile  peace  that  hangs  between  them  now.

“ah  yes,  i  feel  the  same,”  she  says  with  a  nod.  gaemon,  with  so  much  sitting  upon  his  shoulders…  she  wishes  that  more  would  see  that,  would  understand  that  he  is  trying  his  very  best  to  please  everyone.  she  knows  that  more  should've  been  done  during  the  harsh  winter,  but  what  was  he  to  do?  let  the  illness  wreak  havoc  upon  the  whole  of  the  realm?

“i  do  hope  my  brother  has  been  tending  to  his  pregnant  wife  as  he  should,”  she  adds  with  a  little  smile.  “i  can  hardly  believe  how  big  they've  gotten,  you  know?  they're  such  good  boys…  but  tell  me,  do  you  wish  for  another  boy  this  time  around?  or  are  you  hoping  the  gods  bless  you  both  with  a  little  princess  finally?”  there  is  just  a  certain  bond  between  a  woman  and  her  daughter,  and  truly  daenys  hopes  that  the  queen  gets  to  experience  it.

“that  is  so  kind  of  you  to  offer.”  daenys  had  taken  to  motherhood  well  enough,  though  she  feels  as  though  she  hasn't  quite  thrived  in  the  way  that  coryanne  has.  perhaps  it  would  be  good  for  the  two  of  them  to  spend  some  time  with  her,  and  their  cousins  as  well.  “i  am  sure  they  would  love  to.  rhaena  is  a  little  shy,  but  nymor…  nymor  i  can  hardly  keep  track  of,  the  way  he's  always  go  go  go.”

during : the time of northern  games - hammer  throw

this was one of the places he had yet to visit fully. he had seen the shores of the North but stepping foot on it was a different story. the ironborn were hated mostly everywhere. so it came no surprise when he walked amongst the crowd, pretending to play the little noble lord, the looks that came his way. some stared at times because of his height but others was because of the house sigil pin he wore on chest. the one that shone brightly of a silver kraken, a preference of his over the traditional gold, on black field. still he could not hide his smirk as some stared with disgust and others who think they could tame the ironborn.

she  is  stood  just  at  the  outskirts  of  the  games,  right  along  the  barrier.  honestly,  she  fears  that  something  might  get  tossed  her  way  and  gods  how  awful  would  that  be?  just  as  she  is  almost  fully  entranced  by  what  she  is  watching,  she  hears  a  voice  beside  her. 

the  bastard  of  starfall  looks  up  and  up,  to  the  tall  man  beside  her.  he  carelessly  picks  apart  the  player's  performance  and  she  cannot  help  but  to  snicker  slightly.  “was  that  really  not  far?”  she  had  no  idea  what  made  a  good  throw,  clearly.  “it's  certainly  further  than  i  ever  could.”

"That is certainly a word to use to describe the statue." It was taking much to hold back her words. She clearly did not know the other well enough to say what she truly thought of it. How the statue was anything but marvelous. How it felt as if it was almost an insult from the Crown and his people. But she held back for the sake of her husband. For he had asked her to play nice and for him, she would.

“it  has,”  she  lies.  the  bitter  cold  and  the  the  frigidness  of  its  people  had  been  far  from  welcoming,  but  what  was  the  point  in  saying  that?  it  would  only  sour  the  conversation.  “i  quite  appreciate  the  hospitality…  i  do  hope  we  have  not  caused  too  much  of  a  disturbance  in  coming  here,  lady  stark.”