#catheryne tyrell

thank u my goat mili for the tag!!! here is the quiz!

⋆.𐙚 ̊ daena velaryon is romantic cannibalism

eating others as a metaphor for love, desire and devotion. a love that is so strong it is destructive. you are a desperate person. you believe in love at first sight. you belive in soul mates. you believed in magic until you were probably a bit too old. you tend to be obsessive. you long for connection, and all though you have friends, you feel that none of them truly understand you. you wish to devote yourself to another person, as you feel you are not enough in yourself.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ alerie hightower is ritualistic cannibalism

eating others as a religious act, a form of human sacrifice or tradition in the name of a deity. you care a lot about your grades, or used to as a child, and would cry if you got a b in English. you are a people pleaser. you are good at self discipline. you desperately want to achieve success, in whatever way that means to you, and feel the need to devote your life to something you find bigger than yourself, in order for your life to have meaning. you probably had an eating disorder. or an anxiety disorder

⋆.𐙚 ̊ catheryne tyrell as epicurean cannibalism

eating human meat because it tastes good. you appreciate the finer things in life. you are an extrovert. why waste your life thinking about what might have been? you certainly won't. your biggest fear is to live a boring life. subconsciously you harbor a deep sense of emptiness. you distract yourself from this emptiness with extravagant behavior, risk-taking, and pleasure-seeking. you may have a gambling problem, binge eating problem, or substance abuse issues. you are also impatient.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ the goldenthorn girl

yes this is filler but it needs to be said idgaf. warning emotional incest with this girl as always. #freecatheryne. and i started using capital letters shock horror

⋆. 208 — THE DRY SPELL

The courtship of Catheryne Tyrell and Lyonel Baratheon was made a lengthy process— a period Catheryne miserably referred to as The Dry Spell in her letters to him. Catheryne’s hefty dowry would not be paid for moons, promised her father. It was not as though he could stop the couple now, lest Highgarden’s relationship with Storms End, and the Stormlands as a whole, be fractured beyond repair, but he could certainly stall it. Some viewed the prolonging of their marriage as an insult to Lord Baratheon, others, merely the concern of a doting father.

Highgarden began to feel more and more like a gilded cage every day. Leo had ceased from inviting her into his office; perhaps embarrassed of his behaviour— or unwilling to look at her all together. The feast had changed their relationship in a way that could not be mended. Silence could not longer be comfortable. Meals could not be shared without the breads and meats tasting rotten.

The nine moons between Catheryne’s betrothal, and her marriage, felt as though she were standing on the precipice of something great. She paced her rooms nightly, and bit her nails until blood gathered at the quick. Her father was distant, but his presence had never felt more looming, as though he were watching her sit at her desk or lay in her bed through the walls somehow.

Her brother had begun to receive the attention he’d been lacking his entire life from their father. Unlike the affection Catheryne received, however, he, instead, was struck by a firm hand. Catheryne would watch them train together. Edmund was gentle, a sensitive kind of soul, and he cried when their father beat him into the ground and called it teaching. That, of course, would only make Leo angrier, make him swing harder. Catheryne would comfort him as best she could, taking him into his arms and letting him sniffle into her shoulder. He’d never known their mother. She was all he had, no?

Catheryne fell into her books, as she often did when riddled with anxiety. She’d spend hours in the library at Highgarden, falling asleep with her head in tomes. She’d write Lyonel there, too.

She did not like keeping correspondence, she told him in her first letter. It was a tedious endeavour she usually wished to avoid at all costs. But she found herself drawn to her quill despite herself. Meeting him was like biting into something sweet, fresh, and letting the juice of it drip down your chin. Perhaps she was starved of adventure.

She knew he had brothers, and learnt of his nieces he doted on. She read of his fondness for sailing, even if it made him sick, and the memories he had of almost falling off the cliffs of Storms End while messing around with his companions as a boy. His father was harsh, but fair, and his mother was cold one moment, hot the other. He preferred ale to wine, and liked best when it rained on hunts— it made it more enjoyable, apparently, when his hair grew wet and the dirt beneath his boots turned to mud.

Catheryne, in turn, told him of her little brother, and the golden gardens she had grown up playing in, and recounted what little she could of her own mother. It was like writing to a friend, rather than a betrothed.

It was in this period, the first signs of Leo Tyrell’s waning health began to show. One morning as he supped, he began to complain of pains in his stomach in between bites of his porridge, and within hours, he was bedridden. His legs had swollen up like fat plums, Catheryne had observed when she visited him. The sheets had been pulled from his body when he lamented the heat. Catheryne sat diligently at his bedside, squeezing his sweat-slick hand as Maester Peremore poured milk of the poppy down his throat every few hours. It was odd to see her imposing father so weakened, like Catheryne had forgotten he could bleed.

They could not name his ailment. People spoke of Edmund becoming Lord of Highgarden, and Catheryne serving as regent until he came of age. Talk of it unsettled her. What would her room become without father watching through the walls? It seemed to frighten Edmund, too, who thought himself unready for such responsibility.

Lord Tyrell, much to the shock of the Reach, made a steady recovery. Within a moon, he was back in the training yard, though softened around the edges. He would still fight in tourneys, however, and was keen to prove his prowess once more after the series of humiliations he had endured.

One afternoon, he called her into his chambers and told her they would be journeying to Storms End in the coming weeks, regret etched in the lines of his face— which he seemed to have more of, these days.

yayayay more on catheryne!! warning for hinted emotional incest/abuse! also my finger slipped and there's a twenty year age gap with her love interest... my bad fam.

⋆. 208 — THE HASTILUDE OF HIGHGARDEN

catheryne flowered at fourteen, later than most. she didn't appear to show much interest in boys, or flirting, her childish fancies to do with knights and romance dying with her mother, and living with her memory. still, she grew beautiful. a golden flower, reachmen called her. her warm complexion and dark curls captured the attention of many suitors, but her father was content to deny them all. she was still a child, in his mind. she still belonged to him, and the notion of marrying her off, away from him, in the fortress of some lord, did not sit well in his soul. no, highgarden was her place. safe and sound.

their closeness had been sweet when she was a girl. as she matured, many pitied the girl. she was treated as the lady of the house, a second wife for her father who saw his first in her. he had stableboys who dare glance at her too long whipped, boys of lesser houses scolded for attempting to make conversation with her.

catheryne loved her father, deeply. everyone knew it to be true. but his attention had quickly begun to feel suffocating. she was a young woman now, who longed for the freedom of womanhood. it was at this point she began to enjoy drink. previously, her father had limited her to a single cup, since she’d began to wear her hems lower, and she reveled in the feeling it gave her. a little warm, relaxed. she began to sneak dornish red into her rooms, drinking alone, or with her brother (he would not partake, of course, even she knew it was foolish to give her little brother drink), if he deigned to join her, and awake the next morning exhausted and achy.

as her education turned to the duties of a lady, and of a wife to a lord, catheryne was attentive, and in fact, excelled, when she wasn't hazy from a night filled with wine, of course. all agreed she would make a fine wife one day.

this talk angered her lord father. in a public display, he threatened the tongues of men who spoke of his daughter in such a manner— and announced any letters regarding betrothals would be burnt upon arrival. for three years, he maintained his stance.

this escalated, as things often did with leo longthorn.

her lord father announced that only the man who could beat him in one-to-one combat would be the one who could wed his daughter. a foolish endeavour, for a man unskilled, but lord tyrell had proved prowess both in battle and in the lists. an open invitation was extended to the lords of the realm, to travel to highgarden and try to win lady goldenthorn's hand, now seven and ten, a title bestowed upon her by the reach.

many men from great and vassal houses tried, and failed. abelar hightower, tybolt lannister, and medgar tully were a few noted challengers. prince valarr targaryn was said to have expressed interest in participating, however, his father had already secured a match for him with a lady from tyrosh.

leo made a spectacle of it, hosting a grand feast for each fight he won. catheryne did not participate in the revelry. it was a delightful excuse to fall into her cups and giggle with ladies; she found she enjoyed the company of others more when she had ale in her belly. however, she found her father’s ego was becoming an ugly thing.

then, lyonel baratheon arrived at highgarden.

it was a shock for all. lyonel baratheon was older than most other suitors, though still sprightly. he was a swaggering giant of a man, seven and thirty, handsome, and called the laughing storm, for laughing at his opponents in the lists, and within the bloody blackfyre rebelllions. notably, he had not yet wed, and seemed to show little interest it, preferring to hunt, and fight, and make merry. most assumed his heir would be his brother, gowen.

but he was vying for the hand of lady goldethorn.

later, he told her he had essentially been challenged to by a companion, and that he did not intend to wed the girl, only win the fight— knock leo longthorn down a peg. but upon seeing her in the flesh, his mind change. everyone spoke of her beauty, but seeing it for himself was entirely different.

catheryne appeared to at least be invested in this fight. the green boys who had fought for her hand previously all held unearned pride. and though lyonel was perhaps the most arrogant of them all, he had the skill to fall back on. she found herself actually watching the fight, the goblet in her hand forgotten.

her father seemed to have met his match.

lyonel eventually made her father yield, and in the swing of a sword, the maid of highgarden was the soon-to-be lady of storms end. as the stories say, he approached her seat and took her hand, placing a kiss upon it, drunk on his victory, and the maiden he had won.

it was all very story-like, to catheryne. something she’d heard in songs and read before bed.

his pride wounded, lord tyrell conceded to his win. though he was protective, he was a man of his word. or so it seemed.

a great feast was held once more, this time, in honour of lyonel baratheon. catheryne appeared to fall deep into her cups. her first conversations with lyonel seemed to be stilted, for leo longthorn kept burning eyes on the two for the whole of the night.

catheryne quickly discovered how truly reckless her soon-to-be husband was. he laughed loudly— unsurprisingly— and practically drank her under the table. eventually, when the wine had thoroughly flushed her cheeks, conversation begun to flow more easily, and she was delighted to know that he was actually interested in asking her questions. how remarkable! She told him she read; he liked it in childhood, but had grown to find sitting still for long periods to not be of his taste— but, if a sweet lady were to read to him, well, he may just change his mind.

catheryne wanted the ground to swallow her up for falling for his shameless attempts to woo her.

he asked her if she liked dancing. she did not. she preferred not to make a spectacle of herself, and her father had always scolded her for even considering taking the hands of young men who asked. but this was her betrothed, no? and something about the baratheon’s man deep smile made her want to please him, to show that she matched him. so she said yes, and he’d swept her up.

they danced the rest of the night. catheryne felt foolish, at first, but something in the way lyonel moved— graceful, but near buffoonish in energy— made her giggle and forget there were others even attending the feast, let alone watching them. life was not long enough to fear foolishness, he'd said. perhaps.

her father was seething by the end of the night. catheryne was his sweet, precious girl, and she was drunk and laughing girlishly, making an utter ruin of herself! he adored her under his thumb, and nowhere else.

what happened next varies from who you ask.

when catheryne finally sat down, a lord recounted that red-faced, lord tyrell yanked the girl by her hair, quite drunk himself, and began to drag her to her chambers like she was some misbehaving girl. it was said the lord of storms end attempted to calm the lord of highgarden down, offering him more drink, remarking the music was far too fine for him to leave now. This only seemed to anger the man more, who swung at the baratheon— his punches more akin to flailing than anything truly threatening. lyonel had laughed, and knocked lord tyrell off his feet, as though play-fighting, who was promptly picked up by lesser lords and ushered back to his seat. catheryne had fled.

another account spins that leo shoved between them and again, and made a swing at lyonel, accusing the man of things untoward. the two fought briefly, with lyonel seeming to swat the man away with ease, as he had quite a few inches on his new good-father. catheryne was swept off by her cousins, away from the scene, and the lord of jighgarden was eventually escorted to his rooms. the merriment in the room had all but died.

first bit of catheryne lore, covering her childhood!!!! bit of a warning, there's death and some hinting towards emotional incest/abuse, but very lightly. that will be expanded upon in the next part.

⋆. 191 — 194 AC

catheryne was born in 191AC, the eldest born child and only daughter of leo tyrell and leona rowan. it was said the lord and lady of highgarden had been sure their first babe was to be a son. tales from nursemaids, about the resting position of the babe, and the sorts of foods and fruits she craved all pointed to the fact leona would be giving her husband his most sought after heir. a daughter was a shock. a disappointment.

but lord tyrell had still swept the babe into his arms and cradled her while his much beloved lady wife rested; if the man was indeed upset, he did not show it.

catheryne enjoyed a childhood of indulgence at in her early years. leo cherished his girl. you would often find him at work with his daughter on his knee, soothing and swaddling her as he worked. he was easily coerced into buying her the prettiest dresses, the most expensive of toys and porcelain dolls. he spearheaded the construction of the opulent golden garden in his daughter’s honour, in which rows and rows of flowers of every kind grew, surrounding a statue depicting a scene of little catheryne’s favourite tale— the great love story of florian the fool and the maiden joaquil.

she was a happy, contented child, enjoying playing in the gardens her father had built for her, and liked most of all reading in the library with her mother. leona read to her so often, that later in life, she could recite the stories on her own if prompted or pleased to. she was particularly enraptured by romance, of darling princesses, dashing knights, and daring rescues. any activity with her mother she enjoyed, in fact, spending much of her time sitting at her legs with her dolls, letting her hair be stroked and braided.

⋆. 195 — 204 AC

catheryne’s younger brother, and heir to highgarden, edmund, was born in 195AC. the night of his birth was long, and catheryne was kept busy with her lady's-in-waiting, too young to bear witness to her mother’s pain. leona rowan died in her labours, but edmund lived; little, and sickly, but breathing.

lord tyrell could not rejoice in the birth of his heir. most knew of the love he held for his wife. he took no mistresses, visited no brothels, even when she was heavy with child. he had devoted himself entirely to his lady wife, and with her gone, he seemed to be adrift. catheryne was clever, but she was still a girl, and she had not quite comprehended what death was. her septas told her the stranger had rocked her mother to sleep. catheryne simply wondered when she would wake.

alas, she did not.

leo eventually recovered, but it was noted he was never the same. the once lively air of highgarden had dulled, and it's once even-tempered lord grew wrathful. edmund grew healthier each day, and catheryne found herself saddled with the little babe her mother left behind. she wondered if the gods had traded her mother for this small, red creature. it was wicked to think so, she knew, but in all earnestness, she would have preferred her mother.

it was said that leo seemed to share this sentiment. his affection for his little girl only grew, but his visits to his son and heir were few and far between. catheryne shared most of her mother’s features— the same brown ringlets, those large, dark eyes— the last remnants of his late wife he intended to keep close to him, as one would press flowers between pages. or place a bird in a cage. his son was merely a reminder of his losses.

the first blackfyre rebellion broke out in 196AC, and as her father went off to fight, catheryne and her brother warded with their grandfather, triston rowan, who had been injured in his youth and could no longer fight as he once could. he was the strict sort, and after having her every whim indulged by her doting father, it was a shock to be denied what she wished. still, she enjoyed her time with him well enough, and though he found her spoilt, he was occasionally praise her for her sharpness, stoking her thirst for knowledge and for stories with his immense library. he thought her the spitting image of her mother, as most did. It ached, to see his daughter alive and well again. it was in his company than catheryne and her brother grew close.

her father won many notable victories in the rebellions, gaining the respect of those who saw him as a soft fool who allowed the women in his life to rule him. the short, but bloody conflict was over, and catheryne was overjoyed to return home. she wrote to her grandfather regularly until he died.

as catheryne grew, she became quieter— the incessant chirping of her toddlerhood transforming into something a little more awkward, stilted. she did not find much pleasure in being with children her own age. she much preferred staying with her father, playing or reading in his study while he worked. she did not wholly isolate herself, however, as much as her father may have preferred it. she made a few friends, the sort she ran off with and played with at feasts— and she developed a deep affection for her brother. though he had taken her mother, as her father ceaselessly reminded her, she found he could be quiet pleasant. he wasn’t loud, or as boisterous as other babies, and indeed, grew to be quite clever. they japed, and spent time in the gardens, well aware of their father watching them from the window.

she was a fine student, but was prone to daydreaming, which oft earnt her scoldings from her septas. still, all knew her to be an intelligent, well-mannered little girl— seen, but not heard at her father’s side. never at the centre of the merriment, but observing, enjoying it.

her father had grown fiercely protective as her childhood went on.

template below <3

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ARIES — CATHERYNE TYRELL

⋆. how does catheryne handle competition?

lowkey...she doesn't. lmfao. the golden girl of highgarden, who had her every whim fulfilled and her every need waited on...competition. there's no such thing, in her mind. she disregards it, if anything. if we're talking something along the lines of a rival lady at her husband's court...well...i mean. she's the lady of storms end. she's already won. she drgaf! i think she could get a little drunk with her own power, and endeavour to subtly humiliate people, if there's any rivalry at all. all through smiles and courtesy. romantic competition also doesn't really exist to her...flirt as much as you want brother but everyone knows lyonel is obsessed with her. good for cathy.

⋆. what is catheryne's biggest regret?

okay. in a non-spoiler sense, i think she regrets the dependency she developed on drink. it became a habit when she was pretty young, and she can never truly escape it.

⋆. how does catheryne handle losing control?

not well! catheryne's entire girlhood is marked by her lack of autonomy under her father's thumb, and though marriage is technically a different kind of prison, it allowed her much more authority and freedom than she'd ever had before. as i said, she's had basically every wish of hers granted, and if she were to ever be in a position where she no longer has any sort of power again, she'd go crazy. it's like letting a bird out of it's cage for a day to experience the skies, only to lock it back up again. she'd yearn for it back.

⋆. how does catheryne express her passion?

oh babes she loves a chat. once she's had a drink and you get her talking...she'll never shut up about the things she loves. she gets smiley, and the words tumble out of her mouth all at once. books, gardening, music, plays...girl, even things she's not that passionate about, she can talk about it in a manner that says it's the most important thing in the world to her. she'll put in into action, too. storms end is already a lively place with lyonel baratheon as it's lord, but trust and believe minstrels and actors and puppeteers are always welcome, and likely invited by cathy.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ lady goldenthorn / lady of storms end

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⋆.𐙚 ̊ lore

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