#vi0light

delight clings onto the sapphires of the lord of evenfall hall. he was entirely familiar with the joy that comes with the arrival of a child . not all fathers are fortunate enough to have been there at the birth of all of theirs like he was , and the lesser ones even choose to remain absent in the years after . ❝ i've been told that a group myrish merchants have just arrived in the city hours ago , they offer pale green nectar wine and ... laces . ❞ no reminder was needed about the scars left by the subject , they have long healed . however , the circumstances of the previous year , a tragic loss had nipped and gnawed back at the wounds . he cannot begin to imagine how his beloved wife feels , the words that have not dared escape her lips and those kept beneath alabaster skin . he comforts her to the best of his abilities , providing for her a semblance of escape rid of judgement or control . ❝ should this gathering prove dull , we can always go and see the goods for ourselves before everyone . ❞

"I  didn't  know  whether  to  pick  up  red  or  white,  so  I  grabbed  both."  Gysella  looked  between  the  two  bottles  of  wine  in  her  hands,  like  she  was  carefully  considering  them,  when  she  knew  for  a  fact  that  had  been  her  intention  all  along.  "Which  I  guess  means  we  have  to  drink  them  both,  right?  I  mean,  it  would  be  just  cruel  to  split  up  a  pair  like  this.  Besides,  this  is  the  first  time  in  ages  I  don't  have  to  be  up  at  the  ass-crack  of  dawn."  The  lame  excuses  rolled  easily  off  her  tongue  with  an  air  of  confidence,  a  woman  used  to  fighting  for  sport  now  without  an  opponent.  "Now  for  the  real  dilemma.  Do  we  act  like  adults  we  are,  and  grab  the  glasses.  Or,  do  we  pretend  we're  teenagers  again  and  drink  directly  from  the  bottle?"  She  raised  an  eyebrow  with  a  soft  chuckle.  "Though,  when  I  was  a  teen  I  wasn't  drinking  stuff  half  as  expensive  as  these  two.  But  it  was  the  Iron  Islands,  so  I  suppose  I  should  just  be  glad  my  palate  has  expanded  beyond  shitty  rum."

some few years have passed , and the presence of the the lord heir of evenfall hall in queen's court still held peculiarity by its side . like a child pressed tight against his mother's skirt , an inevitability . the commanding presence of the evenstar runs potent in lord baris , and his sheer stature alone in tournaments is enough to plant seeds of self - doubt in the competition . the image remains true in court , and the whispers of giants' blood coursing through their veins is one that can never be silenced to this very day . not that any noble had allowed themselves to be caught with word hanging from their lips , lest they wish to face the wrath of lord baris tarth and his fist . the world remained perplexed , and yet he cannot be bothered . ❝ is the food not to your liking , my sweet ? ❞ senses only reserved and focused on the dragoness that had tempered every one of his urges . ❝ you need to eat . or shall i fetch you something else ? ❞ there is no one else he trusted when it comes to his beloved , if she desired to feast on the bones of her enemies , he will gladly break those himself and serve it on the silver platter the andals love so much .

everything else had been put on hold, rescheduled, or deferred at work. there is nothing more important than family, that had always been the case for baris. a trip to winterfell presented itself to be the best choice out of all the options — a holiday trip to winter wonderland, as cliché as it may be. the twins and leyla were easier to entertain, his lunch date is not as... easy. gaze fixed on every move, trying to gauge reactions, moods. ❝ do you want something else ? ❞

gaze fixed on the divine beauty before him , breath hitched at the back of his throat . ❝ have i told you how breathtaking you look , my love ? ❞ blue orbs seeking a woken , worldly reminder on her features that he resides not in a dream . her dainty hands resting on his , a delicate touch , a hold brimming with gentleness . stark contrast to the man spoken of in whispers and over open fires . steps and sways needed refinement , rough and callous around the edges . evenstar paid no mind — not to the lavish scenery , not to the many poised nobles , not to any prying eyes and withering tongues . his full , undivided attention reserved only for his lady wife . a dragoness nestled in the sapphire isles , an enchantment that captured him . ❝ no other compares ... 'tis a sin to even dare . ❞

"Perhaps."  She  held  up  the  blue  silk  with  a  frown,  before  tossing  it  onto  her  bed.  Trunks  of  fine  silks,  and  she  still  felt  she  had  nothing  to  wear,  though  was  it  the  fault  of  the  gowns  or  her  own  restless  spirit,  simply  looking  for  an  excuse  to  buy  more  to  feel  something.  "I  fear  I  would  look  like  a  walking  Tully  banner,  though.  I  feel  as  though  the  red  is  overplayed,  and  the  green  is...  Fine.  And  don't  speak  to  me  of  violet,  I  can  scarce  look  at  the  colour  the same again.  It  would  never  come  close  to  the  vibrance  of  your  eyes,  and  so  what  is  the  point  of  it?  No,  that's  it.  I'll  simply  have  to  attend  dinner  in  my  underclothes,  'fore  there  isn't  a  thing  to  wear."

"Lady  Tarth."  Eyes  crinkled  with  a  smile.  It  was  easy  enough  to  spot  a  Targaryen,  even  among  the  hustle  of  the  party,  moonlight  hair  standing  out.  With  goblet  in  hand,  he  strode  forward  with  an  easy  way  about  him,  as  inviting  as  a  lazy  river.  A  party  was  as  good  an  excuse  as  any  to  place  favourable  images  of  ones  self  into  other's  minds,  and  his  ambition  never  ceased,  even  on  days  of  rest.  "Are  you  enjoying  our  hosts  hospitality?  I,  as  many  of  us  did,  expected  such  lavish  festivities  for  the  wedding,  not  for  the  ruling  lady's  name  day.  Though  I  will  never  turn  down  an  opportunity  for  celebration."