#northsborn

Love does not stop cruelty. The words sit with him more than he thought possible. It made sense. Aerion was a loved cousin but he was cruel and didn’t stop that from putting his family at risk. Aegon the Fourth supposedly loved his sons, even the bastards, but even the act of legitimising them was cruel for the entire realm and them. “Either option does not make them suitable for worship,” he counters, no concern about the hearsay that came out of his mouth.

“You’re right. People talk a lot about my fathers virtues in that regard but not many do my mother. I look like my father and Matarys looks like our mother. They both have that red colouring to their hair that I’ve seen in her house but it's softer than it is in some of the other Dondarrion’s. Matrays has both of her blue eyes, I only have the one.”

“I am reminded constantly that we should love our family in spite of what they do to us and forgiven for their actions. How it displeases the gods and we would surely be punished if we fight but I don’t agree.” It’s the first time someone had not come with hollow words about the loss and encouraging words they all uttered for themselves more than for anyone else. “Tell me, if the Gods hate war between kin then how would they feel about brother killing brother in a trial meant to get their attention and judgement? If they used one brother as their conduit and another died at those hands then is it still hateful to them?”

   The cold and Jace were not good companions. Since arriving in Winterfell he felt he could do nothing to fight the chill that pervaded every single one of his limbs. No matter how many furs he wore, or how thick his cape was, he was still prone to shivering. Jace willed his dragonic blood to ignite, making it possible for him to withstand the cold. Thus far his wishes had fallen upon silent ears. To make matters worse snow had started falling, adding to his list of growing annoyances. Jace shuts his eyes for a moment, gathering his feelings before tucking them away. He would grow accustomed to the cold in time. In time he would return to Dragonstone where he could bask in the sun. For now he had a job to do.    It is the touch of delicate fingers that snapped Jace out of his petulant reverie. He blinks, following the hand to the face of its owner. Roses bloom on his cheeks realizing he had been so caught off guard. "My lady." Jace clears his throat, forcing a polite smile. "Did I have something in my hair?" It was a snowflake, no doubt, and Jace was certain there were a dozen more lost in his curls.

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ It  is  quite  an  honor  for  you  to  join  us  at  court  Lady  Snow.  I  wish  you  would  have  sent  word  ahead  of  your  arrival;  I  would  have  prepared  a  better  welcoming  for  you.  ❞  All  a  jape,  knowing  she  was  brought  her  as  a  captive,  but  a  king  should  be  allowed  to  enjoy  his  farces  as  he  will,  yes?  ❝ I  think  it  should  go  without  saying  that  I  expect  all  guests  of  the  crown  to  act  within  a  certain  conduct.  I  understand  you  Northerners  tend  to  be  more  wild  in  your  ways,  but  I'm  sure  a  few  corrections  will  reign  in  your  more  barbaric  tendencies,  if  need  be.  ❞  Aegon  stands  at  a  distance,  far  enough  where  she  cannot  reach,  but  close  enough  to  see  the  defiance  in  her  eyes.  The  threat  in  his  own  is  clear  enough.  As  much  as  he  may  call  her  a  guest for appearances' sake,  she  is  still  a  prisoner,  one  misstep  away  from  being  taken  to  the  dungeon  or  punished  for  any  acts  of  rebellion.  All  of  his  false  intentions  fade  in  those  few  seconds,  pure  malice  and  disdain  shining  in  the  king's  eyes  as  a  threat,  all  the  while  his  grin  never  fades.  ❝ Do  we  have  an  accord?  ❞