per·fer·vid

when: first day in staerdale, new valyria who: anyone where: TOUR OF STAERDALE

 the entire small council was put into overdrive for the construction of this new epicenter for westeros. he could recall his countless letters back and forth with lysara about this place, he even began to switch the color of his paper so lysara would know which letter was intended for business and which letter was intended for simple viewing pleasure. even when he was told he would have a day off, it was always a lie. the last two months were horrid, as he could recall how adamant he had been of going to staerdale. he didn’t want to go, not when his marriage seemed so fragile. he knew it was his fault, the facades he worked so hard to keep separate from one another was becoming hard to distinguish to even those closest to him. cassana was the main victim, as the words that escaped her lips would often cause him to stop in his tracks. 

he would be beheaded for treason if he entertained his wife, he was certain. he couldn’t have that, he couldnt leave his family with no ruling lord, to leave his wife with no husband his children without a father. but at what point could he jeopardize his loyalty to daemon and the crown for the sake of his family’s own sanity? it was a fine line, and he threaded on it for far too long and now he wasn’t sure where to go. he prayed for guidance, he hoped said guidance would show up at some point. yet in the meantime, he was meant to be the guide. so he guided, his voice booming in the halls of staerdale as he took yet another walk across the new architecture. 

“if you look to your right, you will find the sept, so conveniently located near the gardens. most of this flora was brought from lands all across of westeros, replanted in pots and finally depotted and placed in the fertile vale land to hopefully grow as grand as you once saw at king’s landing. though, with this soil, i do hope the gardeners enjoy having to trim this wonderful shrubbery far more regularly than they did over at the red keep.”  

and yet, the red keep, and king’s landing, were familiar. not comfortable, but at the very least, a place he knew the ins and outs, with people he did, to a certain degree, know of. in this new court, he knows not the terrain, nor the castle, and most importantly, not the people ( somehow, even as he loathed the king, he had underestimated his penchant for cruelty. how were they to retain any semblance of comfort and security under the roof of a man who thought it wise to out himself as a ruthless tyrant? ).

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞   …   the   chambers   of   the   ruling   couple   ,   horn   hill   ,   the   reach   .     𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡   …   hisham   tarly   (   @perfervvidus​   )   .   𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧   …   flashback   to   around   three   months   ago   ,   after   the   return   of   casper   lannister   but   before   the   death   of   senya   tyrell   née   rowan   .

the  raven  that  had  flown  with  the  missive  of  the  king  tied  to  it’s  leg  had  been  a  half - starved  thing  by  the  time  it  had  reached  horn  hill,  frightening  the  studying  tarly  children  and  startling  fairuza  from  her  nap  on  the  ruling  lady’s  lap  when  it  had  landed  with  a  loud  squawk  on  the  table,  sending  an  ink  pot  clattering  to  the  ground  ─  with  her  youngest  babe  in  hysterics  from  the  sudden  jolt,  seda  had  ordered  the  maester  to  tend  to  the  damned  bird  as  she  attempted  to  corral  her  overexcited  children  away  from  smothering  the  raven  with  attention,  but  the  silence  that  had  come  from  the  man  had  caused  her  to  turn  around  eventually,  dark  furrowed  brows  smoothing  out  with  surprise  at  the  letter  that  he  had  held  up  between  two  fingers,  the  crest  of  the  king  embossed  proudly  upon  the  wax  seal.  her  children  had  seemed  to  understand  the  sudden  somberness  that  flooded  the  room,  quietening  down  and  gathering  at  her  sides  as  the  letter  was  passed  from  the  hand  of  the  maester  to  the  hand  of  the  master  of  whisperers,  and  none  of  them  grumbled  when  she  lingered  to  kiss  the  tops  of  their  heads  before  leaving,  breathing  in  the  smell  of  their  hairs  as  she  carried  fairuza  to  her  chambers  for  a  nap  while  she  waited  for  the  return  of  her  husband.

yet, upon his arrival, he knows better than to expect her to welcome him as a mindless, pliant wife may have — the silence of the household, however is an unfamiliar one, and the manner in which one of the servant boys tells him the mistress seeks him, whilst helping hisham out of his outer layer, startles him. it is not easy to not let dread fill his heart as he goes towards his chambers, and harder still it is to remain expressionless when, as he enters the room, his eyes fall on the object of disturbance. at once, he can feel his stomach drop, and his step is heavier as he goes towards the letter, picking it up; he does not sit next to seda, instead going towards a window sill, and leaning against it, as his gaze reads up the content within parchment, at least three times each brief line as it sinks in, uncomfortably.

Sarisa watched her daughters with a careful eye as they explored the grounds with each other, far enough that they had the freedom to talk as they wished, but within range of stepping in if she had to. Maege understood the depth of their visit a little better than Zei did and Sarisa could not help but notice that her eldest did not leave Zei on her own often. Already her daughter was falling into the protective role of heir of Bear Island. It eased some discomfort the mother had about having her children here, but even with her daughter’s keen eye, the snakes that walked these halls would not get close to her children.

Her hands were folded in her lap as she sat, eyes still tracking her daughters when she spoke. “Sit with me or walk away,” She did not need to turn her head to know that someone had been standing near her side, just out of her eyeline. “I do not have the patience to deal with you dallying with your decision.”

hisham felt much like a fool. after leaving king’s landing in the manner they did, he had believed he would never bring his children to another capitol whilst he lived, yet regardless of his wishing, and of his authority, it was not an easy feat to remain resolute when not one but five of his children joined together against him, pleading for them to be together once more with seda, who by then had been at least two moons away from home. it was true: he could not keep them away, and the older they were, all he could do was to watch, keeping his distance lest he be scolded and iced out for being too overbearing. 

summerhall   had   shifted   out   of   his   plans   when   senya   passed,   the   months   long   trip   he   had   planned   was   nothing   but   a   distant   passing   daydream.   the   months   away   from   his   beloved   were   beginning   to   wear   away   on   him,   as   much   as   they   tried,   no   one   else   could   soothe   his   soul   as   much   as   his   targeyan   did.   their   letters   remained   superficial,   fearful   to   put   too   much   of   his   emotions   on   paper   less   it   scare   her   away.   less   she   think   he   no   longer   remained   the   man   she   once   had   loved.   would   she   even   recognize   the   shell   of   a   man   he   felt   he   was   now,   so   much   loss   tainting   the   edges   of   his   being.  

his   nights   had   remained   restless .   days   till   their   departure   for   staerdale   ticked   away,   struggling   to   maintain   a   positive   composure   as   he   watched   davios   begin   to   drink   more   and   more-   listened   as   his   mother   and   aunt   began   to   whisper   of   having   the   man   court   once   more.   it   was   all   so   much.   till   it   bubbled   up   within   him,   tossing   together   a   trunk   and   taking   off   for   summerhall   at   the   first   light   of   morning.   sending   a   single   raven   off   to   daella   so   only   she   knew   of   his   intention   to   still   come.   note   hastily   written   for   his   mother   letting   her   know   that   a   raven   had   arrived   from   alerie   requesting   he   accompany   them.  

several   days   later,   aster   had   arrived,   hitching   his   horse   in   the   stable   before   meeting   with   daella   first   secretly.   his   beloved   sister   had   agreed   to   the   secrecy,   leading   him   quietly   to   his   room   at   summerhall   so   that   he   may   change   out   of   his   riding   clothes.   once   done,   she   helped   him   sneak   down   to   where   the   entire   family   was   enjoying   a   mid   afternoon   meal.   aegon   notices   him   first,   face   lighting   up   at   the   sight   of   his   good   brother   standing   there.   he   motions   for   him   to   keep   quiet,   taking   soft   stops   to   the   blonde   he   could   recognize   with   his   eyes   closed   in   the   dark.   alerie   gives   him   away,   his   sweet   sister   calling   out   his   name   before   he   can   fully   reach   aerea.  

her anger seems to dissipate, melting away to give room to a feeling of unbridled glee she has not felt in many moons now for, however much she cared for her friends and family, and laughed and enjoyed their days, there was a place in her mind and within her heart that belonged to no other, even when said room was as clouded as the skies back home. forgotten of all else, the princess resumes to familiarity, and she’s thrown herself at her tyrell at once — where once she’d be held, and spun, before cradled safely back into his embrace, the security crumbles, as do the both of them, to the ground, his body softening her landing against his own. “aster!” his name feels almost wrong in her tongue, when she has been stilling it for so long, sound muffled into paper that never feels quite as right. “you fool! you could have hurt me!” she says, as if it was not her to flung herself against him.

a second coming that emmelyne never intended , her cousin the only reasoning as her boat docks on the rocky shores. how similar and still a noticeable difference to a shore they both can call their own. her princess’ shore is smooth and sure. emmelyne , alone in the darkness , can only ponder how easy it is to come and go. though the past few months have been turbulent enough , she is certain her cousin has her own fair share of turbulence.

that meant that the approaching of another was noticed at once, even if the princess did not bother to confirm the identity of the newcomer — elaena’s approval of whoever they were was enough for her, and if not, it would not take much for the she - dragon or the princess herself to scare the other away. the voice that gives away its owner’s identity tells aerea, however, that the presence is even less pleasing than she expected, and at once her nostrils flare in the anger she had been seething in for two moons now. of course. “lady baratheon.” the title is uttered and spit as one would the most harmful of poisons, unbefitting of her cousin for both its unworthiness, and for how early it had been — they were not yet wed, as far as aerea knew, but they lived almost as if they were, didn’t they? so much so everyone else was secondary, even the bride’s own blood. 

rhaegar is restless. all that is in his mind, his body walking and going wherever it needs to go without the prince even realising what he’s doing until he’s already halfway through. he feels as if someone else is taking charge of his arms, his legs, a mind so overwhelmed with what he’d done ( and how much he did not regret saying ‘dracarys’ through gritted teeth ) that it just lets muscle memory and a subconscious gaze guide him through. the arrival of his sister comes as an anchor, an alarm that pulls him back from whatever cloud his head is that. as soon as he hears aerea has arrived, rhaegar makes his way to greet her. which he does, arms around her as he pulls her into a hug that he never wants to let go of. “gūrotan ao bōsa enough naejot māzigon, aerea.” took you long enough to arrive, aerea, words spoken and muffled by the way he buries his face. truth be told, his sister could have come only a handful of minutes after him that he would think it too long, especially after all that’s happened. all that he’s done. 

HOTD FASHION (PRT. 2) | COSTUME DESIGNER: JANY TEMIME