;;heart of wildflowers

shes been here before. the sense of urgency, anxiety, and uncertainty that comes with times of war. xia-li was much younger when the dance began. a wide-eyed adolescent, who knew nothing of the threats loomimg in darkened skies. she'd lived her life in a rose-colored bubble for so long that when conflict struck the north, she could hardly make sense of the chaos that had ensued. shouldnt she be more prepared now that shes a woman grown? she's been here before. so why does she feel as shaken as she did then?

time to dwell on personal afflictions is few and far between for the lady of fir hold. there are refugees to tend to, people whose own fears far outweighed the ones that keep her hands in a subtle shake and a queen that depends on her help to comfort them. "your grace, a word if i may?" the ladys request is rushed, but she still feels relief in rosalyns presence. a particular picture had been painted for her of what a lady-in-waiting should be, one burned into her memory by parents and siblings alike. she was fully prepared to put on the same facade that she was forced to adorn when in the presence of her peers. that was until the discovery that her queen preferred who she truly was to the mask she'd broken and pieced back together so many times that it was nearly unrecognizable. she feels like herself in winterfell, she feels at home.

in the shadows of war the eyrie had stood tall and stoic during the dance, its craggy peaks a fortress against the fighting. yet, for rosa, it had been a haven, shielding her from the grim realities of what war brought to many people. now, the landscape had shifted. no longer hidden  seclusion of her mountainous refuge, she stood amidst the chos, a queen bearing witness to the all of it.

the weight of responsibility pressed upon her but one she would not cast aside. she was a queen, entrusted with lives to safeguard, their hopes and fears mirrored in her gaze. no longer could she shy away, for she had owen's trust and right now that was more important than anything.

amidst the whirlwind of activity, she moved with a grace born of purpose. conversations flowed like a river, each word a bridge to understanding thechallenges that confronted her realm. the influx of refugees into winterfell, demanded her attention. yet, she navigated this sea of concerns with the steady helm of a leader.

her exchanges with some of the elder lords had concluded just as xia-li's voice resonated through the air along with the promise of a moment's rest with her lady in waiting. "of course," rosa affirmed, placing a gentle hand on the ladies shoulder to lead them to a more private area. in xia-li, she found not only a confidante but a vital advisor. her ladies in waiting  were more than attendants; they were the pillars of her inner court. her friends, her adviors her confidons. 

"thank you," she responded, her hands signing along to her words as she spoke. "i will plan to meet with them soon. there will be much to discuss. you're welcome to accompany me later. your insights on the arrivals from fir hold are invaluable. i trust in your judgment."

They were betrothed once before. Back in a time before the dance. His father thought it would be a great way to unite their houses and their regions, before the dance. Before the war that came and dissolved most unions in favor of others or security. His father talked about it so often that when they weren’t fighting, he tried to avoid the man’s gruff words. And now he would do anything to hear those words again. Sons were meant to bury their fathers, didn’t make it hurt any less. He missed the man now, not half as much as he missed his mother, but he was close to his father. They spent so much of their time together that he often still found himself entering what was once his father’s office and sitting at the table instead of the desk only for Jon to tell him to move.

The godswood of the Eyrie wasn’t a godswood at all. The godswood contained no heart tree. Owen thought it more of a garden than a godswood and he looked forward to the day he would go home again. There was something more important than being homesick and it was securing his family, the royal line, and making alliances. Military and trade alliances and it was best to start close to home. They were once betrothed, years ago. They were quite different now, at least he felt different. Ten years on, war changed him and the crown he wore felt quite heavy.

“Princess Arryn, they say this statue is Alyssa Arryn.” Owen spoke as he walked up to the marble statue of the legendary woman. The crypts of Winterfell were filled with statues of Starks and their direwolves. The godswood of Winterfell didn’t hold any great statues or fountains, only the many trees, the small and cold pool at the ancient weirwood heart tree. “Our learned men say weirwoods can’t grow up here…” Owen didn’t know why he was speaking of the Gods. It seemed a good place to start.

and yet, here she stood once more, poised for betrothal, this time not to a stark lord but to a stark king—a union that would elevate her status to that of a queen.

upon the first engagement announcement, rosalyn had delved into a tome detailing the teachings of the old gods. recognizing that her children would grow up worshipping these ancient deities, she diligently pored over the book's pages, seeking to imbibe the knowledge. yet, as the days elapsed, the book eventually returned to its place on the shelf, its purpose temporarily fulfilled. now, however, she found herself pulling it down again, gently wiping away the dust that had gathered, ready to plunge into its wisdom again.

outwardly, she adhered to the tenets of the faith of the seven, a virtuous woman of the vale, as expected. but always, there lingered that fractional part within her—a questioning spark. it was not solely due to the old gods book she had perused; rather, it was a lingering sense of unease that never seemed to abate. how could she reconcile the cruelty of her father, who wielded his power like a merciless blade, with the reverence he received within the sept? the hypocrisy of it all gnawed at her. in a realm where faithful followers constantly bickered, killing one another, how could these acts be deemed righteous? for years, she had sat in the sept asking the gods to reveal answers, but none came. a veil of guilt shrouded her thoughts for entertaining such heretical notions, leaving her to ponder whether her father's maltreatment was somehow justifiable. her uncertainty deepened, threading uncertainty into the future she envisaged for her children, whom she hoped to raise in the worship of the old gods.

the eyrie's godswood provided the setting for the newly engaged first real meeting—an apt fusion of the old and new, a bridge between two belief systems that had yet to fully intertwine. a strange kinship settled within her as the ancient trees that should be watching over them, sharing her sense of a divided spirit.

"many attribute the statue to alyssa," she shared, a soft, knowing smile gracing her lips. "my mother was among those who believed it. strangely cruel, isn't it? to cast a statue of her weeping while she ceaselessly sheds tears over the giant's lance.you know the one name my father forbid my mother to name any of us was alyssa. he thought it would bring bad luck down upon them." a faint laugh colored her voice, but it was a laughter born of contemplation as the thought of her father caring for his own daughters. at least he didn’t curse them with bad luck.

as the topic shifted to the godswood's trees, rosalyn's gaze turned towards where the tree should be. "attempts have been made to transplant the heart tree here, but the very rocks seem to thwart the endeavor. an unfortunate pity, for i can only imagine the beauty it would bring to this sacred space," she mused, a yearning note in her tone. “i have read of the weiwood heart tree in the north many times in my books but have never seen one in person before. i am looking forward to seeing the one in winterfell.” 

his next question, led to the briefest of pauses in her response. as she fashioned her reply, it could have been perceived as her merely searching for the right words or perhaps due to the intricacies of her needing to lipread. but deep within, she battled the impulse to reveal her innermost thoughts. yet, in this initial meeting as fiancés, restraint triumphed. "yes, i have been raised within the faith of the seven from infancy. within the vale, there are not many who veer from this path," she replied, maintaining her calm facade. her eyes met his gaze, a subtle challenge in her demeanor. "and you, i imagine you are a practitioner of the old gods. i've delved into texts, but true understanding often evades the confines of mere pages."

“You will be the Stark in Winterfell. Edric will be with you and so will our Wisdom. He will guide you in matters of state and decision making. You are the queen of the North and it’s time for all to see you as such. Since the Dance, it was a responsibility to fall on Alys’ shoulders as my twin sister and the eldest girl here it was only fit. This time, you have given birth to Bran and Ravella. It is time. Of course, you will be tired as you recover and that’s where the wisdom will come in. I’ve need for Alys that will keep her far too busy for this.” 

Owen smiled at her, settling comfortably with Brandon in his arms. Another boy. Ravella was sleep and little Bran seemed to always be awake, always looking around. Owen promised he wouldn’t keep waking them so whenever they both were sleep he only woke one which was keeping his promise and on this day, Ravella would sleep. “I’ll leave soon and you’ll heal here with Ravella. Much of our court will return North, some prefer Winterfell, but those who will have need of you will be here until it’s safe for you to come home. At the very least, the neck. Greywater Watch is quite secure as is Moat Cailin.” 

Already planning. Always planning. Rebel. False King and his master. He kissed Bran’s forehead. 

“warm his bed, have his children and stay silent. that is all that is needed from you in your marriage, rosalyn. anything more than that and you may risk embarrassing us all again.”

rosalyn, burdened by the fear that these words would never truly vanish, knew her role well as a wife in this land of nobility. yet, her life had taken a different course than the prescribed fate. her husband, a man unlike any she had known before, saw beyond those confines, yearning for her voice, thoughts, and emotions.

the weight of responsibility now rested upon her shoulders, and she felt a mix of trepidation and determination as she prepared to lead the kingdom alone, without a fellow stark by her side. only a month after the birthing bed, she was called upon to assume this new mantle of authority. yet, her husband's unwavering faith in her, the trust he placed in his wife—an arryn, an outsider— or had it become she was an outsider to the lands of the vale. perhaps the snow and ice had hardened her skin.

"it is an honor to be the stark in winterfell," she declared, absorbing the magnitude of her new station. "i won’t let you down; i vow to prove myself worthy. when we return to winterfell, i will ensure there is ample space for those seeking refuge."

with their child in his tender embrace, she found solace and strength, witnessing his loving care for brandon, as well as his affectionate she had seen for edric and ravella. his kindness extended beyond his own family to encompass her as well, granting her a profound sense of gratitude and awe. the blessings she had received exceeded her wildest expectations.

"thank you, owen," she murmured with sincerity,. "thank you for entrusting me with our home. i will strive to be the leader our people deserve."

and the sound of the crying that seemed to come from the lips of her sister at the news was a sound that would once have caused something within her to stir, the way it did upon hearing the way rosalyn’s voice would break whilst having conversation within their father. never once had his favouritism of his eldest daughter gotten in the way of the sisterhood they shared. one that was not filled with affection from the queen of winter, but a level of tolerance that could only equate love.

“cry. you need cry. you can cry.”

and yet now, there was nothing as she stood by the window; she had not spoken the words directly to her sister, instead allowing her to read the letter that had been received to the queen directly. the small council had already been gathered, and she attempted to ignore the ways in which lord stone’s dark gaze looked upon her. somewhere along the way, it was decided that sacrifices would be needed to make the mountain stronger. the mountain needed to be fed, and falcons had lived in delusion for long enough. they were not untouchable. the mountain needed to be fed.

“the guards who allowed it were put to death by the lord commander.”

why would her sister allow her to read such a thing without warning? why not tell her herself to soften such a blow. perhaps she thought this would be easier…it was strange. but grief made everyone act strange. rosalyn’s hand clutched at her swelling stomach as she tried to process the news. 

“rowan made me promise i would look after her.” she remembered back to the time when their family was whole. rowan holding his young daughter and making her swear to look after his daughter if anything happened to him. and now she had let him down. at least the guards who allowed it would also be punished. how they could lack in their duty to protect someone so innocent, so young. they needed to be punished. 

“sister please,”rosalyn said looking over towards ravella who’s eyes had barely moved away from the window. “please sit with me, i need you.” she said reaching out her hand for her sister. gods only knew how different they were from one another, they always had been since they were little. but that never stopped the deep connection of love between them. rosalyn doubted very little could ever stop her from loving her sister.

there was no doubt in rosalyn’s mind that her husband wouldn’t take this seriously. when they had discussed the new laws of the north they had done so together. she never felt pushed aside or made to feel less than. the laws of the north were an effort for both the king and the queen. after all it was both of their duties to look after the people within their kingdom. men and women alike. “i can get you her name and the husbands name. i don’t think she knew of the law that was passed, she seemed surprised that i mentioned it. the sister did not seem to know either. i doubt she wanted to sleep with the lord before her own husband.” she said, recounting the look of shock on her face when rosalyn had mentioned about the banning of the practice “from what she knew there was at least five wives that had to follow this rule. and those are just the ones she knew about. gods only know how many there actually is.”

rosa hated the thought of what these poor women had to go through because of one narcissistic man. did that mean there were other laws that were not known? most of these people could not read themselves. how else were they supposed to find out about these laws if their lord did not tell them “perhaps we need to find a way to ensure these new laws are reaching everyone. i don’t want to think about what other laws this man might have not told his people…”

o.

“She didn't know? I expressed that it should be announced and now this petty lord must be stripped of lands and titles. Lest he makes me look a fool among my own people and courts. What sort of King cannot handle his own people?” 

And he didn't show much of his anger to her but there is a tension in his shoulders and it's obvious what choice he will make. It was time for examples to be made and when a King stepped in to punish petty lords it bruised the egos of their ruling Lords. It showed a lack of trust from the King to his Lords, a lack of trust the didn’t have when he denied their lords the title of Duke.

"it seemed that she did not know. i am sorry i had to bring you this news so early in the morning. but i knew you'd find it just as important as i did." she frowned. "i think the criers may be needed. at least in the lands we cannot fully trust their petty lords."

she squeezed his hand as she spoke, understanding his worry. a feeling growing up in the vale she was very accusumed to. "no i do not think they disobey you. i have seen the way your lords look to you. they respect you as a man and a king. i do not think many disobey you. especially after you lead them to a victory in battle with you by their side. they would foolish to do so. this petty lord is foolish to think no one would find out about this."

"I will have the name of her sisters husband and the village he looks over. We must have reports of the ladies in the area."

And he took a large bite of the food then took a drink of the black northern beer. His mind wandering as he considered how many agreed to his laws and disregarded them. Criminals would always exist but there was crime and then there was...savagery. The behavior of wildlings.

rosa hated the thought of what these poor women had to go through because of one narcissistic man. did that mean there were other laws that were not known? most of these people could not read themselves. how else were they supposed to find out about these laws if their lord did not tell them "perhaps we need to find a way to ensure these new laws are reaching everyone. i don't want to think about what other laws this man might have not told his people…"