winter has come.

dayana had never been the best dancer. despite her best efforts, it's always felt like she has had two left feet. it's something that's always been a great disappointment to her mother, of course, seeing dancing as a skill that is important to a lady. yet she excelled in other ways, so she hopes that can make up for it.

as she's spinning as part of the dance, she ends up colliding with another. they're nearly sent to the floor from the impact, but dayana is quick to grab them and prevent them from falling. "oh goodness, i am so sorry.." she says quickly, looking the person over momentarily.

"oh! lady.. ryswell," dayana greets her, nearly calling her by the name she once knew her as, back when she was a lady of the riverlands. "please, accept my apologies. how've you been?"

The danger, of course, was that not all who took to the floor were imbued with a natural grace.

Bethany stumbled backwards from the surprise of being hit by the other girl, and was steadied by the arm she reached out with. Her dark eyes flitted over the woman, and recognition dawned upon the Northern lady. "Lady Blackwood," Bethany replied, stepping aside and off the dance floor as others continued on without them. "I am well," she replied, "and flattered that you recall my face, let alone my name."

“Curious, more than lost,” he answered quickly, his attention snapped away entirely by the woman’s soft voice. Bright eyes were soothed by her beauty, clear even in the dull flames of countless torches near their end. “Not that I don’t value your concern,” he added with a smile.

Judging by the look of her and those at and around her long table, his aimless wandering had brought him North. Whether the sudden chill he felt was due to them, or due to the young woman’s beauty alone, he could not say. As if to warm himself, he brought his ornate, golden goblet, adorned with garnets to his lips and took a long, satisfying sip of his Arbor Gold.

A soft hm sounded from Bethany as she regarded the man, and the polite smile on her lips flickered into something genuine for a moment. "If you are not lost," she began, adjusting her skirts as she shifted to make space beside her, "then you are quite welcome to remain."

She eyed the knight curiously. His identity was not lost on Bethany — there was no mistaking a Lannister, particularly when Lady Stark was herself a lioness by blood. She had seen the Lannister before her at a distance when she had accompanied her husband — the most recent and final — to petition the lord. He had sat at the high table with his sister during the evening's feasting. She had found him handsome then, and her estimation of him had remained much the same.

alysanne had ventured into the keep shortly after leaving the young lord edmund blackwood. a nice, handsome young man. she suspects the others will begin to pour into the keep any minute as the joust has most certainly ended if the dying down of cheers are anything to go by. she turns a corner to avoid running into anyone, making her way to a more secluded area of the great castle.

an area that is probably only familiar to those who would know to seek it out, like those of her own blood.

so when she hears footsteps and turns to see a head of silver-gold curls, she is not surprised. in fact, she smiles at the sight of her younger cousin, daena. picking up her skirts slightly, the princess makes her way closer, to meet her in the middle.

"daena!" she exclaims happily, reaching for her hands and giving them a squeeze. "i feel like i've hardly seen you all week.. please, tell me how you've been. it's been far too long."

Coming up Alysanne was therefore a very welcome meeting.

"Aly," Daena greeted warmly, returning the affectionate squeeze of her cousin's hands. "Walk with me," she encouraged, moving to loop one of her arms with the elder girl's. "I am well, but on tenterhooks — I am tired of having my toes stomped upon by spot-faced boys. Will you come with me to the pit, so that we might ride a while? I am desperate for it, and I know that Gaelithox is as well — I can feel it."

"Let us try a game, then," she reasoned, eyeing him curiously as she sipped from her glass. "You may ask me one question of your choosing, and by the Mother, I will be honor-bound to answer honestly. In exchange, you will do the same for me. Yes?"

He did take solace knowing that he and the victor had given the crowd a show. Both had proved stubborn in their resilience and had piles of broken lances to show for it. Though Vaegon’s winnings were double his, Lancel was also soothed by the weight of gold now locked away in his chest at the foot of his bed. Not that a golden lion was ever wanting.

All the better if Vaegon proved difficult over his ransom.

When Humfrey, one of his loyal squires suddenly came into the spacious pavilion upright and chin up, Lancel was quick to his feet, quick to receive his announcement, and straightened all the more when he saw his beautiful visitor.

“Your Grace!” he said surprised, but warmly. “A fair rider, indeed,” he agreed, despite his ego. Vaegon was her cousin after all. “But it was your favor that got me to the end, I think,” he quickly countered, offering her his golden smile.

The Lannisters were not particularly known to Daena. She did know them in the most basic sense — the wealthy rulers of the Westerlands were known to all, even to those beyond the Narrow Sea — but she had spent no great amount of time with the dwellers of the Rock. It was the lot of her cousins in the Dragon Gardens to make progress to their neighbors in the West — just as it was the province of those who ruled in Dragonstone to entreat with the lords of the nearby Vale and Riverlands. Without the benefit of a prior acquaintanceship, the young Princess was left to wonder at why he had sought her favor ahead of the likes of Rhaenys and Alysanne.

She was not so foolishly humble as to think the knights who had submitted to the tourney were not simply keen to claim the favor of a Targaryen Princess — it was a status symbol just as it was fodder for gossip — and perhaps she was merely the first he had managed to ask. The thought that there might be any more consideration behind it was what intrigued her.

"I thought I should come and see after you," she said after a pause, offering the briefest of explanations for her presence. She knitted her hands behind her back, two fingers pinching at a stray thread in her sleeve. "You did not appear injured, Ser," she added politely, "but I have been told before that one cannot always tell from the stands."

"If he knows how to fuck. If I were a woman, I would rather my husband be a drunken, whoremonger who knows how to please me then a chivalrous virgin who leaves me wanting.....more. I could try and find out for you, if you'd so like." He chuckled knowing his cousin to more than likely be aghast at his words. He was jesting for the most part.

"I hope for his sake he is not cruel though. You have a dragon, and many family with one. A precarious position if he has any intentions of not treating you like you deserve."

Vaegon's casual response drew a half-choke, half-laugh from his cousin. "And what do you suggest?" Daena asked, brows lifted, "should I hide out in one of the high-end brothels and wait to see some sign of him?" She held up her hand to indicate that she did not wish for him to answer — she could guess that Vaegon's response would be in the affirmative. "Your offer to seduce Lord Stark is kind," she drawled, "but I think I shall manage without that particular form of generosity."

"that is such an interesting perspective.. really, princess," the formality is used affectionately. the two know each other well enough to be beyond such formalities, but she still likes to slip it in from time to time. "oh i know," lucinda smiles then. "perhaps i will take you up on your offer before we are to leave this place then... it is not every day that one gets to say they've ridden a dragon, unless they are of your family, of course." she places her own hand on top of daena's, giving it a gentle squeeze in return.

"Are you?" She replied, her silver brows arching curiously at the man's admittance. Taking a half-step nearer, her lilac eyes flickered over to the crowd before finding Edmund once more. "Tell me then, Lord Blackwood — have you observed anything of note in these days' past?"

Auron surveyed the crowded room for a moment, genuine confusion in his expression as he shook his head. “No! I truly don't know what we’re celebrating. Have I missed something important while I was away?”

Daena thought that Auron might laugh and reveal that he did know which festivities she spoke of — but his insistence drew a laugh out of her. "Now I hope I am the first you've seen for your own sake," she said with a crooked grin, "we are all celebrating Grandmother's reign." She inclined her chin to gesture towards the Queen, who was at present surrounded by a circle of chattering gentry. "If anyone else asks, you ought to pretend like you already knew."

"a little of your soul, hm? that seems like quite the price to ride a dragon," she says with a slight laugh. though it makes sense, there's always been rumors that targaryens and those like them who ride dragons must dabble in blood magic in order to do so. "i will.. have to think about it, princess. if i'm honest, it is quite daunting."

Her smile grew in amusement at Lucinda's laugh, and she tilted her head in acknowledgment. "He gives to me, it is only right I should give to him." As for the elder woman's answer, it was Daena's turn to quietly laugh. "I am not laughing at you — I understand, any sane person is right to be fearful." Reaching out a hand, she laid it upon Lucinda's arm and gave her an affectionate squeeze. "But you must know I would let no harm befall you."