wintrwild , dependent multimuse for throneshq , written by kit . featuring ..
kyra fossoway , lady of cider hall. introduction, interactions, +
orwen reed , grand maester of the iron islands. introduction, interactions, +
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@wintrwild
wintrwild , dependent multimuse for throneshq , written by kit . featuring ..
kyra fossoway , lady of cider hall. introduction, interactions, +
orwen reed , grand maester of the iron islands. introduction, interactions, +

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crownsandgods ,
Lale chuckles, with the amount of breaks and stopping at nights it was definitely taking longer than usual. but it was necessary when you had such a large amount of people traveling to one location, accounting for everyone was necessary from time to time. but she agreed she too felt relentless. she tilts her head, lale was no ordinary lady she had proven it once she became a mother and refuse to let a stranger take care of him or nurse him for that matter. “no offense to the ladies that prefer to take advantage of wet nurses and septas, but i will raise my children all on my own. i do have a septa from time to time to watch him at night or for small periods of time if i have duties to attend, but during the day he is mostly all mine. i am his mother, it is only right.”
kyra returns her attention partially to her embroidery, beginning to pick apart her uneven stitches with a careful, practiced surety, gaze flickering back and forth from the cloth to lady lale and the infant aslan. wide eyes go even wider at the lady’s explanation, and she has to be careful not to let her surprise show too clearly, lest it be taken for disapproval. “ really ? that’s remarkable. ” remarkably foolish, she thinks to herself, unable to imagine devoting the entirety of her life to a creature so unrewarding as a newborn infant. perhaps just a failure of imagination. or empathy, more likely ─ her septa had always said it was something she lacked. “ i am sure the little lord is grateful for it, even if he cannot yet say so, ” she says, looking dotingly upon the boy the way she’d learned to do. “ and your husband approves ? ” she asks, still as though she can hardly believe it.
stxrfclls ,
few people didn’t address her with a title, but zara knows whenever it is only her nickname it will be someone she holds dear. when her eyes drift up and catch sight of the grand maester, her heart softens a small fraction. “orwen,” comes her gentle voice, so soft and sweet as opposed to someone covered in blood and dirt. “it’s all just too much.” she’s lost an aunt, and gods knew how many were hurt. it’s a weakness, one the princess never meant to show but everything on her shoulders is just too much to handle. “how are valter and the blacktyde family?”
“ i know, ” he says, quiet and calm. trying to be a lighthouse as she weathers her storm. they don’t need to say her name to feel her presence like a pall ─ the ghost of saga greyjoy haunts their conversation, as he suspects it will for some time. “ they’re ─.. well, gwyn’s fine. valter’s had worse, he’ll recover. ” physically, at least. how he’s taking saga’s death is another matter entirely, one orwen won’t speculate on. “ delena is doing better. ” that’s the most hope he can offer, hesitation betraying his fear: a wound is simple, poison much more complicated. realizing he’s not being quite as reassuring as he could be, he adds, “ she’s awake, eating and talking. those are all good signs. ”
anicxc ,
She noticed someone about to fall and quickly moved forward to help but saw that they caught themselves. At the mention of not seeing anything, she raised a hand, “your secret is safe with me” she reassured him. She may have been a gossip but she knew when there were things that should not be talked about. “Why would I laugh? The gods would look down on me,” she said as she walked forward and held out a hand for him to steady himself with
“ ah, why would you not ? ” he parries back. though he doesn’t really expect any other response from her ─ although a harlaw in name, anicia was brought up with the same northern sensibilities as orwen. he’d never seen her display the sort of casual mockery he’d become so used to from other iron islanders, though that may be more a credit to her character than her upbringing per se. “ it was a great display of hubris on my part, and probably well worth a laugh. ” he’s mostly joking, in the self-deprecating way he’s become accustomed to, wearing his shortcomings like armor ─ yet he still waves away the hand she offers, holding on to some faint pride. “ the gods look down on us all, my lady. but i have never seen them smite a person for laughing ─ or any other offense, for that matter ─ so i think you’re safe. ”
wolfblvod ,
Putting his feet up, Tybor looked around at the people who were walking around. They were panicked and he couldn’t care less. The people he cared about were fine, and he had been burning in his anger out. Now he was calmed down, sitting and watching the rest of the people scurry about. His eyes caught someone standing there silently. “Not your cup of tea?” He smirked at them, “Blood can be refreshing if you ask me.” @wintrwild
as chaos reigns, she doesn’t really expect to be noticed, certainly not addressed. everyone is scrambling to see their loved ones safe, and she knows she has none here. but lord clegane catches her distant gaze, and by his question, must have spotted some displeasure in her look. “ oh, no, certainly not, ” kyra quickly answers, rather unconvincingly ─ once secure in a carriage, she’d spent most of the attack trying to get a better view of the fight, blood and all. “ though i understand some men find a fight invigorating ─ so long as they survive, of course. only .. well, i question the prudence of appearing quite so pleased, when your queen may well be at death’s door. ”

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@fatewcpt / for cleo hill !
“ cleo, my lady, ” kyra greets, though in truth the lannister bastard is no real lady ─ but she offers the title like a gift, a meaningless little trinket she suspects cleo will like. perhaps a token of apology too, for not seeking her out sooner. “ are you alright ? you weren’t hurt, were you ? ” in truth, she hadn’t even considered the possibility, much too concerned with the queen’s health to worry about anyone else’s. “ can you believe it ? of course i know the roads can be dangerous, but i never thought bandits would be stupid enough to attack everyone all at once. what could they have possibly hoped for, against the strength of four kingdoms ? ”
ANYA TAYLOR-JOY THE NORTHMAN (2022) dir. Robert Eggers
crwyn ,
She looked up from the small stain she’d just noticed adorning her mourning clothes, and blinked. It took a moment for her to parse what the Fossoway had said. “Ah. Well… Thrilled seems excessive, though perhaps I will be pleased. It is difficult to say.” Vittoria had been enjoying travel, and feared that at its end she would find herself in want of things to occupy herself with. Then again, there was nothing for it – she would have to face stillness and all the thoughts it might bring sooner or later. They’d already been nipping at the edges of her mind, in the thin hours of the night before sleep, and she was old enough to know that shoving complicated emotions under the rug was a terrible habit. “So,” she began, and paused. “Er– Do you know a great deal about cider?”
“ you only say that because you haven’t seen it yet, i’m certain. it’s the most beautiful place in westeros. if you’re not at the very least delighted, let them raze the whole thing to the ground and build something new and better, if it please you. ” and she’s only half joking ─ the whole point of beauty is to please, and if it doesn’t, then what is it worth ? if she registers the lady forrester’s obvious discomfort, it is only vaguely, in the way one might notice but not fully see a cupbearer or stableboy going about their work. “ oh, me ? gods no, not unless you count being quite proficient at drinking it. do you know much about ironwood ? ” kyra parries back, lighthearted and playful and perhaps the slightest bit mocking.
gcldnhearts ,
closed starter for orwen reed / @wintrwild
zehra had a very unhappy konrad on her hip. her youngest seemed to not be responding well to a plant or food, she was unsure. either way, he was very itchy and cranky making zehra even crankier. no amount of consoling helped and zehra was sure she was going to have to give up her sanity soon. spotting a familiar face a few carriages down, the northerner felt relief, readjusting her whining son and making her way through the groups of people getting on and off their horses and carriages. “maester!,” she called, waving as she got a bit closer. “it’s good to see you. – do you have a minute?” she’d probably be a lot more polite if she’d gotten any sleep in the past day, but pleasantries would have to wait until after she could get some help.
book tucked under his arm, trying to ignore the faint headache building behind his eyes, orwen sets out in search of something to break his fast before they must mount up and ride off once more. he doesn’t get far, though, before a faintly familiar voice calls for him. and there’s zehra hornwood, waving him down, her youngest in tow ─ what was the boy’s name, again ? kevan ? karlon ? ─ and orwen’s already caught her eye, can’t pretend to not have heard and scuttle off in search of food. “ lady hornwood, ” he greets with a deferent nod, pushing his spectacles back up the bridge of his nose. “ it’s good to see you too, i hope you’re well. ” though by the sight of it, she is not ─ her son seems decidedly unhappy, face flushed and scrunched up in displeasure, and orwen knows well enough how distressing that should be to a doting mother. “ of course, as many minutes as you require. ” breakfast is already beginning to feel like a distant dream. “ what might i help you with ? ”
stxrfclls ,
𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓 : open starter ! ( @thronesstarters )
𝖘𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 : post plot drop ( travel to highgarden arc )
the gutted feeling that runs through zara when news of her aunt reaches her ear is much stronger than the way she felt after each bandit fell to her sword. “i’m sorry, if you’ll excuse me.” she manages to gasp, slipping from those around her to disappear behind a carriage. zara slowly slinks to the ground, curling her knees up to her chest as heavy breaths and sobs wrack her body. fighting well hadn’t protected those she loved, so what had the lives she took been for?
he’s hardly slept, feels like he’s been running through one never-ending nightmare of a day, barely noticing anything that isn’t wounded and bleeding, or poisoned and festering. yet he notices zara, hears the strain in her voice, and decides that delena will forgive him if he’s just a little late. “ zara, ” he says, quiet and cautious as he follows, kneeling beside her despite the difficulty, unsure what else to say. “ what is it ? ” .. stupid question, he’s pretty sure he knows what it is. what he means to say is what can i do ? but unless he learns to bring back the dead, he knows the answer is nothing.

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crownsandgods ,
Lale rocks the bassinet with one hand as she tries to focus on what the other one is showing her, she tilts her head trying to make sense of it as well, which she cannot. “well i must say if we were to take breaks for needle work we would take months to reach high garden, i’ve told you books are better ways of entertainment when sitting in a carriage.” thankfully this time around lale had her son to distract her from the long road. the kid was pure amusement when he was in a good mood, and consuming when he was not, either way the day went by quickly. “you could also marry and have one of this ones, that’ll keep you busy enough to never touch a needle again.” she teases.
“ oh, i know ─ gods forbid we take even more breaks, we won’t reach highgarden before winter ! but i just can’t stand feeling so useless, i thought i might do something worthwhile .. ” she sighs dejectedly, though her annoyance has much more to do with boredom than any innate industriousness. kyra laughs at lady lannister’s suggestion, putting on a wistful smile, as if the proposed prospect was one she genuinely yearned for. it’s a familiar enough part to play ─ she spends an inordinate amount of time with ladies and their children, has learned how to dote like the best of them. “ oh, i do hope i will, one day. but somehow i don’t think that will happen before we reach highgarden. ” then, turning curious, “ are you really so busy, my lady ? i always thought wet nurses and septas would do much of the real work. ”
Oscar Isaac in Agora (2009) dir. Alejandro Amenábar
@stcneheartd / for braxton flowers !
his maester’s chain, heavy round his neck, rattles ever so slightly with each step of his horse. of course, orwen could ride in a carriage ─ might be more comfortable if he did ─ but apparently he’s not fully divested of his desire to retain a bit of dignity, and chooses to ride. the scenery, while beautiful, offers at the moment no features of particular interest, and orwen finds himself falling slowly into bored, uncharitable reflections. “ last time i saw highgarden, i was just a boy. thought it was the grandest place i’d ever set eyes on. ” probably still was, though his memories of oldtown now compete. “ do you visit often, ser braxton ? if i may ask. i understand you serve the crown in king’s landing .. do you find they’re very different ? ”
@anicxc / for anicia harlaw !
orwen’s long since given up on seeming graceful, or even reasonably respectable. but remaining upright, that still seems like a reasonably achievable goal ─ or it would be, if the ground hadn’t been trampled to a soft mud by countless feet and hooves and carriage wheels. if he’d been paying more attention instead of feeling half-asleep. if his bad leg ─ the left one, the one that’s fake below the knee ─ hadn’t been aching something fierce. it just takes one wrong step to send him stumbling, catching himself at the last minute on a nearby carriage. at least no one’s around to see his embarrassment, he thinks, looking around .. except, there they are. orwen clears his throat and steadies himself. “ i’d be terribly grateful if you’d do me the honor of pretending you didn’t see that, ” he says, embarrassed but also trying for a self-deprecating amusement at his misfortune. “ or even if you just held off on laughing ‘til i’m out of earshot, really. ”
@crownsandgods / for utp !
that doesn’t look right. kyra frowns, turns the little piece of embroidery clockwise, frowns again, and turns it back. shifts, so that the shadows cast by the late afternoon sun don’t fall on her needlework, then sighs. “ does this look absolutely horrible to you ? ” she asks, offering her work for inspection. “ be honest, don’t spare my feelings, i should start over, shouldn’t i ? it’s just that damned carriage, rattles like the bones of dead ! if we could sit still for any longer than it takes to eat and sleep it might not have turned out so poorly. ”

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@crwyn / for utp !
“ how are you holding up ? ” kyra asks, seated at yet another midday rest stop, hoping to drum up something like civilized conversation. the travel was dragging on and on ─ felt like forever, yet they’d not even made it past cider hall ─ and she suspects most everyone is worse for wear. at least, she is. “ i, for one, am exhausted. i’ve made the trip before, of course, but somehow in my memory it’s always shorter, and much more pleasant. won’t you just be thrilled when we reach highgarden ? ”
* ── [ anya taylor joy , cis woman , she + her . ] : in the frays of king aerys iii's reign , therein remains kyra fossoway , the twenty - four year old lady of cider hall . rumor has it that their loyalties lie with house tyrell + targaryen and they are neutral to the targaryen reign . they're so discerning + educated that it makes sense , but most seem to look past their garrulous + opportunistic nature . when they come up in conversation , i'm always reminded of licking honey from sticky fingers, elegant neck dripping in freshwater pearls, & a glossy red apple, core black with rot .
cw ─ deaths, abuse, murders.