and maybe i won't repent.

        she listens attentively, eyebrows raising as he voices out his opinions. i did not know you were such an envious man, poison tickles the back of her throat but she swallows her words, downs a sip of arbor red and gives him a curt nod as a sign of acknowledgment. “one could say so, but if i may, combat or barbaric are misused words in this context, your highness. do you truly believe a sparring match to be more gruesome than, shall we say, the battle of the whispering wood?” he had read it to her, with her, so many years ago – she hoped he would not miss it. “but then, you are correct, in some ways. watching does seem more interesting than to actually partake on the experience.” she half lies, half declares, mostly to please him, as she glances at the men bellow. she had watched men sparr since she was a child, so she had gotten used to it. “would your father allow it, anyhow? you may be far too precious to fall prey to possible fatalities, especially now, my prince. some still seem hostile about new titles, and kingdoms.” treachery, she remembers the official words to be.

Lynesse: Fuck you, marry Tate, kill Ronan

Send me a “🆗” for a random drabble.

He watches her, nervous, shaky, playing with the hems of her maid’s garbs. They always kept their maids nice and clean, properly fed. It kept their appearances up in front of visiting lords and kept the servants from resorting to treachery. The servants, except this one one, however. Meg, her name was, dark brown hair tied into a braid behind her back, dark blue eyes looking everywhere in his study but at him. The gossip would surely go through the halls of the Eyrie among the other servants, What was a maid doing in the Lord’s study? Humorous, eyebrow raising, for now, but soon it will be seen as a warning.

Gerold hummed under his breath, eyeing the Arryn heir from the side. “Odd, that. Perhaps I am wrong—all the business of these last months has rather exhausted me—but I had always thought of the Vale as the home to the finest knights of the kingdoms, in battle as well as in tournament.” He turned to face the man, polite smile pasted on. “Perhaps that will change when you are Lord of the Vale, then?”

He doesn’t do house chores; he’s a prince.

Tate cringed at the term, but turned in response to it all the same. It was the future heir to The Vale calling his name. That was probably not good. If he’d heard any rumors about Lynesse, it would likely lead to him being a right prat. Instead the man simply inquired to how he’d been. “Well, my hand has finally healed, and I’m no longer trapped in a dungeon so all in all, better than I have been. How are you, Prince Arryn? I didn’t even know that you were headed into the Capitol.” Had Rosa told him that? He hadn’t exactly been the best listener lately, either. 

“I am well.” Ronan's gaze drifted to the mans hands, nice and steady. Could not use them to protect himself. (A little harsh, he supposed he was being. Instinct.) “I had thought to surprise everyone, truly. Had not told a soul. You do not seem delighted, prince Tully. Do I have cause for offense?” He allowed moments to pass in silence, before his face broke out into a terrible grin, “Do tell me of the capitol; everything has changed quite a bit.”

“So only too barbaric to participate. Not too barbaric to watch,” Lyra clarified, one eyebrow arched with curiosity as a teasing smirk pulled at her lips. “Were it not for the archery and riding competitions, I don’t think I’d attend. The rest is, as you put it, barbaric. Though it’s rare to find a gentleman who isn’t hopping at the chance to prove himself in those feats of skill. As if winning a silly joust speaks higher of someone than their character.” 

“If I watch the court fool entertain, does that mean I will need to learn to juggle balls?” He hummed, giving a once over to the woman speaking, eyes catching sight of the blond hair. Targaryen? Lannister? Clegane? It was getting harder to keep track. “I suppose it has to do with the glory of being known as the strongest. Brute strength won’t be enough to get you by. I suppose it is safe to assume you are not a participant, my lady. More women than I had expected have decided to join.” 

“If you do not worry about your ability to rule, then you are certainly not fit to rule. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder; to others, I am a blessing.”

“Married men should know to keep themselves to their wives. They made their vows, after all.”

standing amongst some of the other ladies of the court, rosa stood back enjoying their conversations. only chiming in when she felt necessary, but besides that, she enjoyed observing the conversation. with quick looks between them all, she could pick up bits and pieces of most conversations. just another day at the court and she rather enjoyed that. she longed for boring days of idle conversation where she could feel at peace. she tried to feel that today but even still she felt tense amongst the large group.

a soft tapping on her shoulder caught her attention from the conversation happening in front of her. she could only assume it was one of the many different guards who was set on keeping an eye on her. rosa could not go anywhere without an arryn, tully or kingsguard following close behind her. turning towards them, she was ready to be faced with a plate of armor but instead, it was a pair of eyes she could never forget. years apart of not getting to see his face in the flesh but she could never forget his eyes. she’d always thought they look just like their mothers. they held a stern look but rosa saw the kindness under those looks. she never thought he would be the one she was going to turn around to.

her mind could barely form a sentence as she looked at him, eyes wide as she tried to process what she was seeing. “r-ronan?” she didn’t wait for him to respond before throwing her arms tightly around her brother, holding him close. she shut her eyes tightly, holding onto him so tight in fear that if she let go it might just all be a dream.

And, there she was, his sweet sister Rosalyn. He grabbed her back from around the shoulders, holding even more tightly than she could, bringing her head to his shoulder. He could see them, the multiple gaurds that had come with her, some apprehensive while those of House Arryn told them of who he was. “It’s the lo-Prince. Princess Rosalyn’s brother.” Those of House Arryn who would soon be let go, for keeping their guard down twice and letting his kind younger sister be taken. What had they done to her, while he was away, unable to protect her? 

He pulled back, smile not the widest, but still, so very genuine. He had missed her dearly, and let her know as much as he pulled back to attempt the signs for her, mouthing the words anyways. I missed you. I am sorry. His fingers were not as quick as they were, having gotten rusty from the long time spent away from Rosalyn, no need to communicate with this little language of hers when she was not there. 

Rivalry — I’ll write a drabble of our characters having a rivalry between each other.

Ronan could hear Qarl rearranging his notes, stacking them from best to worst, worst to best. It didn’t matter now. But he knew, his friend, his partner, was actually feeling anxious. In his defense, the cool gaze Rhaena Targaryen had given them as she got up, the whip of the opposition’s team, chilling. Still. They had done their research, their arguments made sense, and they had definitely trumped the other two teams. This was fine. Rhaena didn’t scare him.

She started her speech, eyes barely flickering over her own notes, and Ronan had his pen ready in hand, writing. Writing, rewriting, scribbling it out whenever she ruined another one of his arguments. Damnit. And then, he had her cornered, and with a minute and a half left. 

He raised his finger, eyes shining in her direction. And she...the demon. She waved him off. No one did that! He scowled, but nevertheless kept his eyes on her, eyes that widened slightly as her voice raised and her own showed a fire that was completely opposite to her previous demeanor.

He remembered, dimly, a memory, 

“From one top debater to another, don’t rely on your emotions so much.” At her quirked eyebrow for the unwanted advice, he continued, “It makes you less believable.” He he held up his notes, facts scribbled all over them in a chaotic mess only he could understand. “You have to give your support properly.”

“Emotions can be support. If you know how to wield them.” She’d replied, and he’d known from that moment, they couldn’t be friends.  

And they hadn’t, each trying to outwit the other while remaining with their teams on top of the competition, not going against each other until now, the final game, the great debate. And she had finished, loud voice and all, argument annoyingly sound.

The timer went off, a shrill noise coming out of a judge’s phone just as she said her final word before walking primly to her chair and taking a seat next to her partner. From the other side of the room, she looked into his eyes, and he looked back, trying not to visibly swallow. They could still win this. (The judges were in deep thought.) They had come so far, he and Qarl. (Back and forth, back and forth they’d looked). 

A break.

Three cups of water. 

“It’s just debate, dude, chill.” Qarl had told him, a hand gently put on his shoulder.

But it wasn’t just debate. It was Rhaena, and destroying Rhaena, who’d been tormenting him for the past year. (An exaggeration; he just didn’t like being upstaged in his areas of expertise. Rhaena was perfectly civil.)

And, back into the room. And.

One of the judge gave a kind smile, red curls bouncing around her face. He didn’t really focus on what she was saying until he heard the words Closing Opposition and had to keep himself from banging his head against the desk. 

She looked at him, Rhaena, and while he thought he’d find a smug smirk, raised eyebrows and crossed arms, what he’d found was decidedly worse: A king smile, her mouthing good game. As if he hadn’t been worth the competition. 

a historical / fantasy / period / medieval friendly character survey.

roses / cherry blossoms / orchids / tulips winter / summer / autumn / spring  thunderstorms / sunshine / snow  indoors / outdoors  meat / fruit / sweets  extravagance / traditionalism / minimalism  god fearing / non god fearing  cats / dogs / horses / birds  sunrise / sunset  day time / night time  fire / earth / water / wind  reading / writing rising early / sleeping late  wine / ale / neither fur / silk / satin / lace / leather rubies / pearls / sapphires / emeralds horseback / walking / carriages  having company / being alone  lakes / rivers / oceans  knife / sword / bow / poison  gold / silver