— LUCIYA ROWAN! ❞

everything had devolved into chaos. a king is dead– his brother in law no less– and someone has been snatched from every single kingdom. his own kin, in fact. then there is his dear little sister who holds the heirs to the crownlands who is no doubt a target, if these madmen are true to their insane word.

and with everything gone to shit, it has made the king of the stormlands think. made him reevaluate those who he has deemed important in his life. should the gods take him now, would he leave this world with regrets? sure, there is certainly no man who can leave this life without regrets. however, there are some things he knows he can change, things he can get done now that meant he would rest more soundly.

that is how he finds himself at the chamber doors of one luciya rowan. he had managed to use his royal status to persuade the guards that stood outside to let him through. he knocks and knocks, anxiously waiting a response. “it is me, luciya.”

@tendcrheart·

           THE NORTH WAS PROVING TO  be entirely cold. in its weather and in its occurrences. there had been no love lost in the death of the dragon king, a targaryen from the opposite side of her own. however, there had been a tug in her chest upon realizing that he had left behind a pregnant widow. of course, not just any widow... a baratheon. the twin of the man that had done everything in his power to crumble each and every one of her walls. given, there had been no hesitation or protests on her end... which, of course, made things evidently smoother.

           lithe frame sits by her window, elbow resting against the wooden border, chin propped against her curled fingers and her palm. dark orbs, ever as attentive, studying the fountain. the sun has long since set and there is not an ounce of light other than the ones that had been placed around the corridors. that, and the outside town’s light. booming chatter and laughter drowning out the knocking of her new visitor.

          luciya is nudged out of her trance by the very sound of the stormland’s regent prince voice. the sound she had decided to be her favorite. amongst, of course, others - all circling back to him. eyebrows furrow in confusion, as they had not agreed to meet tonight and he was openly coming to the quarters in which she was residing. a sense of worry claims her, urging the slim brunette towards the door. 

.

theo was always terrible with gifts like this. he had the heart behind it, wanting to get something nice for the people he loved. but he always just drew a blank on what to get until someone helped him. if he sent something back for his sisters the last thing he wanted was for it to be downright ugly. he was thankful for the help from the lady who was standing close by. “thank you, my lady. as much as i love my sister i think i will forever be clueless to what they might actually enjoy.” the lord command chucked. he watched carefully as she scanned the necklaces until she landed on one of them. “one of my younger sister is just like that. i have never met someone who cares for others as much as she. i think that would be perfect for her. thank you.” he smiled picking up the necklace. he couldn’t say he could place who the lady was but she did look familiar. perhaps he knew of her family. “are you from the north my lady or are you visiting as well?”

amongst the crowded market place, theo weaved his way through people. he wanted to pick up a small trinket that he could send back to his sister in crag. they had never been north before but it would be something nice for them to have. walking up to a small jewlery cart, she began eyeing the dark stones necklaces out for display. there was another woman there, maybe just passing by but he felt completely lost. “pardon me, my lady. would you happen to have a thought on which of these are the nicest? they are for my three sisters. i wanted to get them something nice but now i feel a little lost.”

@tendcrheart​

        OH HOW SHE MISSED GOLDENGROVE.  the vale was nice, that much was undeniable, but goldengrove was home and she had once again grown used to being surrounded by all her brothers in their beloved home. she was hoping to truly enjoy her time with them as best she could before being married off to... well, whatever house. 

      originally, she had thought that house to be the baratheons but with her brother’s status as hand of king... the royal ever as irritating pain in her ass that was now king had dissolved her betrothal. luciya was not mad because she was no longer a candidate to become the queen of the stormlands. instead, she was mad because it had been cedric and her brother mathis of all people. besides... she had grown to enjoy the soon to be stormlander king’s company. albeit more than she should. 

       lithe frame exits her quarters, door shutting behind her lightly and her footsteps echo in the empty halls. lost in her thoughts, the lady of the reach has half the mind to register the drowning of her footsteps as another door opens. her head tilts, gaze finding the very frame that had plagued her thoughts for a moment too long. ❝ your grace. ❞ she’s unsure of how exactly to address him or even where to begin, but... that sounds right. one step at a time.

        DARK HUES LIFT ALONG WITH a delicate brow. slowly, head tilts and dark waves cascade over her shoulder towards the side her head shifts to. ❝ regret and i have never been acquainted, we remain strangers. ❞ the rowan admits, shoulders lifting to slump slowly in a well administered shrug. it further adds to her point. ❝ i must admit that with every time that follows, i believe myself to be ruined all the less. ❞

.

no no no. that was the wrong answer luciya rowan, he thinks. she cannot truly know what she is doing, what she is asking of him. surely she knows of his reputation, doesn’t she? while people tend to look past it due to his being a man, it is still something that is whispered about. he has heard it. they aren’t wrong, either. steffon is a womanizer, the type of man to charm the pants right off a woman. he simply cannot help himself.

steffon huffs a deep breath, large hands clutching her face as he continues to keep their foreheads pressed together. “that’s not what you were supposed to say,” he chuckles, briefly pushing his lips to hers again. she deserves much better, this he knows, yet he cannot bring himself to be better. she is beautiful and he is a weak man. besides, he very well could lose his life in a matter of days. if she wants this then why shouldn’t he?

the prince keeps his lips locked with hers, hands moving from her face down to firmly grip her hips. if she doesn’t stop him soon, they were surely end up in a situation that they will be unable to take back. 

         THERE WAS A PART  of her that had far more jurisdiction and awareness to know she should not let things escalate. the other part, however, strongly overpowered that one and all she truly knew was… well, that she wanted him. maybe even so much that she could find she needed him. however ridiculous that sounded to her sober mind that knew better than to rely on a man even if for pleasure. luciya rowan could not care for that part of her mind nor did she wish to pay it any thought. 

       her chest rises slowly and carefully as she regains her breath, dark gaze locked on his through eyelashes. she’s intrigued by ever part of him at this moment, somehow thinking this could work. maybe they could work. challenge each other to do better, be better and even grow together. perhaps her family and his were not wrong to pair them together. ❝ i have never been one to do as expected, my prince. ❞ the brunette admits, edge of lips lifting to form a smirk. though, it lasts no longer than seconds. 

.

steffon supposes he could get used to this. she is a beautiful lady and luciya’s banter is enough to keep him on his toes. perhaps one day he could grow to love her– some years down the line he suspects, if he’s being honest with himself. in his heart of hearts, he thinks that she deserves much better than him. really any woman he could marry would deserve better than him and his antics.

these must be the words of her house. he hadn’t known them at the start, but makes a mental note to commit them to memory lest he end making a fool of himself during his trip to goldengrove. “that is exactly what i wanted to hear,” he replies. the prince could not handle boring, even if it is something he always expected of married life. if all this is truly the woman that luciya rowan is, and not some façade, then surely he couldn’t end up bored.

he kisses her with fervor. it is not gentle and kind, as she surely deserves. he wonders if she has ever been kissed like this. but then again, steffon is not the type to offer such sweetness. he is full of passion and desire, especially when his fate on the battle field is unknown. the baratheons may be born warriors, but no man is invincible. being struck down on the fields of the riverlands isn’t out of the equation.

he breaks away, breathing heavy, but keeps his forehead pressed to hers. “tell me to stop,” he murmurs, knowing that he doesn’t have the willpower to do it himself. knowing that he will take things too far if she does not.

        LUCIYA’S WELL AWARE THAT SHE  really shouldn’t get her hopes up. she knows she should remain level headed and composed, ready for just about anything at any time. after all, nothing was guaranteed until they were officially married. so she’s setting the tempo for their song. he was not an entire stranger to her having met previous to their betrothal’s announcement and accompanied by him to other important events but before all that... she had heard of him through gossiping tongues - the infamous prince of the stormlands, the womanizer. she never expected him to be perfect and she still doesn’t, in truth all luciya wants is to know he’s making an effort. 

       she had been kissed before, of course, but never with such need and things had never escalated beyond kisses. luciya was not a saint, that much was clear but she did value herself and always thought she wanted her future husband to be her first considering that under the eyes of the seven... he should be her last. not that she was strictly religious much like the rest of westeros but she did agree with the loyalty that marriage brought.

The battle was won and the clashing of swords ceased if, but for a moment. Mathis felt a strange sense of relief as he road hard towards Lannisport, leaving behind death and sorrow, but not his own. He would not dwell on the events of late, and set his sights and retrieving his youngest sister and returning home, at least for the time being. His hands were weathered and calloused, which for him was not the norm. His body, tired from the journey and hardened by battle. While he was a vain man, lover of finer things, wine, and women, he felt different now that he was back to this harsh reality that was now his home.

When he entered the gates and beyond, as much as he wanted to rush through the gates and towards his sister, he slowed some more, trying to compose himself in front of the Lannister allies. For now, they found themselves on the same side, but he was always wary of the lions and their pride. He soon spots his sister amongst a couple of ladies and dismounts his horse, walking towards her. It becomes apparent that he has been spotted when she dashes his way and he laughs at her embrace, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a spin before setting her back down. “News is not traveling very fast, but the battle is won, I’m taking you home, Luci.” He actually felt like he could breathe normally for the first time in weeks. “How was your time here in Lannisport?”

        SHE’S SO OVERJOYED WITH  the unexpected presence of her brother that she nearly misses his words. he was here to take her home. the news in itself further delight her and the brunette cannot hide the beaming grin on her features. the concept of war never truly seemed to be a good thing to most ladies and luciya was no exception. more than that, she hated the idea of wars that were not theirs being fought by bystanders. they had lost their father to a war and she became all the more religious when her family was on the front line, hoping that the gods - new or old decide they are worth saving.

         ❝ wonderful !! and our brothers, are they on their way ??? ❞ she figures that they wouldn’t all come to lannisport, especially not the eldest considering that he held the most responsibility. her twin, especially, would be all the more eager too arrive at goldengrove. 

Once again seated at the raised dais in the Great Hall, the seat her husband rarely had the chance to occupy in the last six years since she’d called this keep her home, Alyvia took audience with the lord commander of the city watch, and a few of the guards stationed at the southern end of the ports. They had taken a man in custody, whom they suspected of being Ironborn. These men whom she’d met with regularly knew better than most her distaste for the islanders west of the port, for the great trauma they’d inflicted on her city only a few short years prior. The wounds of which still festered.

Alyvia had, by use of her husbands seal, implemented many harsher measures on the those suspected of bearing ill will towards the city or it’s inhabitants since that incident. For all the feminine wiles she never abandoned, her justice was never soft. “Hold him no longer than a fortnight, Sir Byron. And you shall only press for more rigid questioning should he fail to offer a valid, and verifiable reasoning for being within the city walls. We are no longer in open conflict with the Ironborn.” And though those were the words she spoke, the rigid set of her jaw openly betrayed her personal feelings on the matter, this was perhaps the only matter in which that could be said, as she’d learned to steel herself well over the years.

She listened intently to the commander as he relayed to her more details of the transgression, that was until her gaze fell on her sister who lingered near the double doored entrance to the hall. In an instant the tension in her posture eased as some of the anger left her at the sight of the younger woman she was so fond of. “Please send a runner with any updates.” She said in dismissal as she stood from the seat, nodding farewell to the gathered company. As the room began to clear the Lady of the Port finally stepped down from the dais, to greet her sister. A brilliant smiled filled her face as she stepped forward to embrace Luciya the moment she reached her. “It has been far too long, you can not imagine my excitement when you wrote of your plans to visit. Though I’m happier still finally seeing you after all this time!“

@tendcrheart·

       TRUTHFULLY , SHE HAD NO DESIRE  to remain in lannisport and really had to convince herself to even visit. the youngest rowan had never truly had a motherly figure in her life due to the untimely passing of her mother. one would expect her sister to fill that role in her life but alyvia had barely played her role as a sister and she really had no one besides her father and her brothers. luciya tried her best to not hold it against alyvia as it really was not her fault that she had been married off to the lions. she was childish in every sense of the word to dislike the lannisters considering they had kindly taken her sister in - regardless of the friendship between her late father and addam’s. 

       footsteps echo lightly, bouncing off the walls and lingering in ears. however, as the muffled voices coming from great hall become slightly more distinctive, she slows in an attempt to quiet her steps so as to not interrupt. dark hair is tossed behind her shoulder, cascading down her back and towards her hips. it sways with every movement stilling once she comes to a stop at the entrance, dark hues instinctively finding her older sister’s frame. she seemed happy, luciya supposed. though, she really did not know her well enough to know any better.

        eyebrows furrow at the realization and she bites back a scoff. family was important to her, they were all she knew. her family and her fifth brother, cedric tyrell. as alyvia’s similar gaze finds her, furrowed brows ease and her expression shifts to mirror a bright smile. the other brunette’s movement are graceful even as she dismisses the lord and nears luciya. ❝ it has been a while, hasn’t it ?? you look great. ❞ smaller frame return’s her sister’s embrace, never truly growing used to alyvia’s hugs. they were firm but delicate much like her. 

.

steffon had accepted his fate long ago, knowing that whoever his family chose for him would be it. sure, things change sometimes. however, the pressure for the stag to produce an heir is looming over him. not only that, but it is important to get in the good graces of the reach. all things considered, his match with luciya rowan must work out. and all things considered, he does not completely hate the idea.

“i don’t think you realize what you’re asking, my lady,” he chuckles. asking for a fight with a baratheon? it would be an endless battle. but if it’s a challenge she wants, then it is a challenge she shall get. “i don’t back down easily.. but i suspect you don’t either.” they’ve barely met and it feels as though he knows her so well already. but he hates the idea that she may feel the same. closeness, commitment, intimacy— it all terrifies him.

he watches her in awe, once again shocked by her boldness. steffon inhales a sharp breath as delicate fingers brush lightly against his lips. she cannot possibly know what it is she’s asking of him, he’s sure of it. he isn’t good at holding back, he never has been. if this starts, he is afraid he won’t be able to stop.

fuck it. in one swift motion, the man cups her face and pushes forward. the kiss isn’t one like a prince in a fairytale would give his princess, but he has a feeling that isn’t what she wants anyway.

      THE YOUNGER HER HAD ALWAYS  hoped for much more than a marriage chosen for her. at one point during her childhood she remembered being displeased with the mere idea of having to marry someone she did not love. as the years passed, however, luciya decided that there were worse things in life than being paired with someone for the benefit of her house. steffon baratheon seemed like a good choice, it worked out for the reach and it was obviously working out for her. she rather liked steffon. not for the idea of who he could be or what anyone wanted him to be... luciya rowan simply liked him for what he was, what she had seen and who he was - they were far too similar to dislike, anyway.

       her eyebrow remains raised as he speaks, she knows he is not underestimating her or her stubbornness but rather genuinely believes he stands a chance. ❝ the strong do not wither, my prince. ❞ she had stated his words at the very beginning of their interaction and now offered her own as a rebuttal. ❝ if i ever go down... i promise that it will not be without a fight. which means that you and i will seldom grow bored - if ever at all. ❞ she hopes they never do.

this is nice, he thinks. it is almost forgotten that he is once again marching into war. based on the way the two of them playfully spoke, no one else would think so either. he cannot tell if it is good to ease his nerves this way, or if it will serve as a distraction from his duty. he very well could be killed out on the battlefield, though the rowan lady seems to have no doubts. steffon baratheon is a proud man, but one could always use a confidence boost. her blind faith serves as that boost, for sure.

“i would have to, wouldn’t i?” he chuckles yet again. “happy wife, happy life as they say. if that will keep you happy, then i will have to settle.” it is odd how casually the marriage is discussed, but it is just so normal for the both of them. both had been raised knowing that their partner would be picked out for them, someone who could serve the purpose of securing alliances. whether or not they actually liked them was no matter. but based off their interaction here, steffon thinks that perhaps a life with luciya rowan wouldn’t be so bad. then again, the woman could always turn out to be an awful witch later on. he’ll just have to wait and see.

he is shocked by just how forward she is. touching his arm is one thing– it’s playful, it holds his attention. but brushing along his jaw? that is a far more intimate act, an action often reserved for lovers. it causes him to grin mischievously, “there is nothing to forgive.” seven hells, she could’ve pushed it further and he probably would have let her. the stag certainly isn’t known for his restraint. 

“and i look forward to meeting them properly.” he’s almost positive he had met them before the war, though he can’t really remember. life before the dance is somewhat of a blur now. not exactly the best times, and so it is times he would rather forget. “i’d quite like it as well. i suppose it is about time i see the reach, yeah?”

       PLENTY OF BETROTHALS FELL THROUGH ,  plans often changed, feelings surfaced and life had different plans. that was something she had witnessed first hand if not because of her sister than by her friends. alyvia had infatuated herself with the idea of cedric and in time... it did not work out. steffon and her, however, spoke as if that was not a possibility. as if it was written in stone that they would marry and the rest was for them to figure out. she hoped it was true. something about him - especially not as he so easily shares the conversation with her that she hopes can be hers.

       ❝ we could agree to negotiate. ❞ luciya offers playfully, raising a challenging eyebrow. then she laughs, not a fake laugh rehearsed for interactions with others that she usually did not wish to speak to. her laugh was genuine, spewing from full lips comfortably and echoing in the otherwise empty room. ❝ i would be happier if you put up a fight - turn it into a genuine win. ❞ 

         his next words urge fingertips to delicately dance over his cheekbones and find their way further to finally trace over the outline of his lips, head tilting curiously. dark optics flicker towards his lips, eyeing them as though they are the most interesting thing in the world. perhaps they are. finally, she meets his gaze and her eyebrow raises once more. ❝ do you ever plan on kissing me ?? or have i got to do everything myself ??? ❞ she’s joking, though she isn’t. at least not about the kissing part.

“only think?” he chuckles. this woman is surprising him at every turn. any other would’ve quietly nodded and smiled along with every word he said. instead, she somehow always has a quip back. it is refreshing, honestly. and perhaps for these few moments, he could forget about the worries that plague him. for just a moment, it is simply him and luciya rowan, alone in a room, the world outside fading away. “i suppose i will have to settle for sometimes, then.”

it is only a fleeting moment, though. reality crashes back down on him, taking notice of the way her touch is barely there anymore. “ah, yes,” his smirk falters. “luckily, i have not spent as much time away as my sister has. the stormlands can survive without me for a few more days.. i may just take you up on that offer, my lady.”

        LUCIYA NODS, WORDLESSLY AFFIRMING  his echoed response. curious hues watch him, taking in every small quirk and tiny motion. she’s attentive, perhaps even eager to learn his behavior - wanting to know what exactly makes him himself. his smirk, she has already committed to memory after seeing it one too many times and deciding silently that it was a trademark response. now, however, she cannot decide if she prefers his expressive eyes or the small smiles she has managed to ease out of him. she wonders if he knows his stare gives away the turmoil within but the lady refrains from sharing this deciding that maybe she was just too observant.

        ❝ you would settle for sometimes... ❞ dark hues fall to her own hand on him before she lifts her stare to glance up at the prince through her own long lashes. ❝ for me ?? ❞ statement is finalized and she delicately shifts her fingertips to gingerly trace over his jawline. she’s aware of her actions, though, she narrows her eyes ever so slightly to rid herself of any awareness and instead glances at him apologetically. 

.

“is that something i should get used to? your being always right?” he chuckles. it is something he has noticed in many women over the years, especially the strong women of the stormlands. most would never admit defeat. interesting that a woman of the reach displays similar traits. the idea of being wrong is unfathomable. even he displays such stubbornness and he wonders if it’ll cause them to butt heads. he hopes not.

he tenses then, something he is sure she can feel as her fingers graze over his bicep. of course he isn’t alright but that is not something he can share with her.. not now at least. if he is to marry her, she would know eventually. if not.. well, she still would. consequences be damned, steffon baratheon would legitimize his son. the boy would not grow up a bastard, he would simply not allow it. “of course,” he answers, turning to face her fully with his signature smirk.

“then just for you, i will try my true best,” he answers playfully. this rowan woman is far more interesting than he had expected. he knew little of what women of the reach were like but if all were like luciya, perhaps it was not so bad a place after all.

“brutal honesty is all i would want, my lady,” the man nods. “i am sure we can come to such an agreement in time. but know that your support is appreciated.” he cannot promise anything this soon. perhaps he should, even if he didn’t mean it, but he would not disrespect luciya with such a lie. “i look forward to getting to know you properly when this nonsense is over with.” the return of that signature smirk.

         PERHAPS SHE WAS ALWAYS MEANT  to belong to the stormlands. her septa never failed to reprimand her, calling the girl far too curious and bold. the septa spoke the words as though they were insults and all luciya heard was traits to be proud of. why was curiosity negative ?? how else would she learn ??? why was boldness bad ?? if she was not bold then how was she to get anywhere in life ??? 

         arched eyebrow lifts at his words, vixen like smirk claiming full lips as she shifts slightly. ❝ i might let you think you’ve won once in a while. ❞ the brunette shoots, tone light-hearted and humorous. it makes her realize that she’s rather enjoying their conversation, playful banter and all. ❝ to keep your pride healthy, of course. i hear a prince’s pride should always be intact. ❞ the last bit is not entirely true, only a summary of her septa’s words. swallow your pride and let the prince win, it’ll build confidence and avoid many disagreements. she should know luciya better than that.

        ECHOED FOOTSTEPS MUFFLE OUT  the hushed whispers of her two friends ( ladies of some sort, a bonus to being betrothed to a prince ). the brunette knows they’re chatting, gossping and echoing rumors running through the lannisport walls but luciya cannot be bothered with the details. she dislikes the westerlands and lannisport in particular, perhaps because of the fact that they had taken her sister and left the youngest rowan as the only girl amongst three men. they were often outnumbered, alyvia and her, but now aly was off being a wife and keeping busy.

          visiting lannisport had become a habit, second nature amongst the stormlands but it made her terribly homesick all the same. with her brothers off fighting the tully king, well, it made sense that she spend time with alyvia over in her new home. ❝ what’s lord rowan doing here ?? ❞ the name pulls her out of her thoughts, catching her attention immediately. dark hues flicker around almost instantly settling on the all too familiar frame belonging to her eldest brother.

          she does not dismiss herself, instead rushes over towards mathis and throws her arms around him much like a little girl once she’s close enough to do so. ❝ matti !! ❞ luciya greets, delighted. ❝ thank gods you’re here and in one piece !! what’re you doing here ?? ❞

.

ah, so she has done her research on him and his family then. sure, knowing a house’s words isn’t much, but she appears to know more about the baratheons than just that. the septas have prepared her well for her role as a future baratheon princess– and one day, a queen. he, on the other hand, cannot even recall the words of house rowan.

and yet all the while, there is his complicated entanglement with mellara tully. the stag’s mind, as well as his emotions, are all over the place. he is not built for such complications. the man understood that one day he would marry a woman for duty and fulfill his purpose of carrying on the baratheon bloodline. he was content with that. but now, that path doesn’t seem so clear.

“i suppose you’re right,” he chuckles, pushing aside his inner turmoil. he is a man built for battle, and that needed to be his main focus at the moment. it is a distraction, violence had always been an outlet for him. it is easy, using weapons and fists to deal with one’s problem as opposed to words.

steffon quirks an eyebrow curiously. this lady is coy, not the soft and polite type that he so often encountered. she is polite, sure, but that innocence isn’t who she really is, he suspects. “ah, i’ll try my best, my lady,” another chuckle. “though if i am late, blame the trout king– not me.”

“all this back and forth, just for me?” he questions playfully with a smirk.

         IT WAS UNDENIABLE THAT  the doe like gaze of the youngest rowan was heightened by that mock innocence she held to herself. sure, she was pure and innocent in whatever sense those words held but the cunningness and coyness she possessed strongly outweighed both her purity and innocence. she was quick on her feet, intelligent and even a little manipulative. things that only her family knew of her and things she was entirely proud of. they were great things for women in westeros to possess. otherwise... how would they get what they wanted ?? her sister was kinder than she was, at least luciya thought so. she even admired her but they were not as similar as she hoped - not in her eyes.

         she can tell that he’s not all present in their conversation, trying his best to remain grounded and so she lifts a hand - delicate fingertips dancing over the skin of one of his arms to further secure his attention. ❝ i often am. ❞ luci hums softly, smiling. then, eyebrows shift to reflect concern - doe hues narrowing and bottom lip juts out ever so slightly to further emphasize her features. ❝ are you alright ?? ❞

           then comes a shake of her head, long dark locks shifting with her head and a few strands come to frame her face. ❝ if you’re to try your best - your true best, you won’t be late. ❞ the hand not on him lifts, beginning to tuck stray strands behind her ear at a slow and calm pace. she seems comfortable in his presence, though, luciya rowan is rarely uncomfortable not at all the type of girl to let others believe themselves a threat to her.