#c. rickon karstark

[prodixal]

@fyrebrandd || helaena targaryen

His cell was a cold room resembling a tomb. It reminded him of the Winterfell crypt. Dark and long, with heavy air, and moisture sticking to ones skin. The only light within, was that which reflected from the hallway through the small opening at the door. As Helaena walked in, carrying her own torch, the light that now illuminated the space took a moment of getting used to. The sound of moving chains echoed as he drew his hand to shield his eyes from the sudden sensation. "I did not kidnap your sister." he says, though she'd not yet said a word. He knew the accusation would come. It is what everyone else had believed. The reason he was here. "The trial will prove it, you'll see." words were almost a whisper by the end, as if he had yet to convince himself they were true. No one spoke to him of a trial. Or what happens next. "You look well."

[prodixal]

"Aye. I wouldn't say I was green with jealousy of this...fictional friend of yours. Mildly jealous, maybe? A tad bit?" he wasn't entirely sure if being jealous of someone who did not exist was better, or worse, than the alternative. Either way, he was not fond the guy -- or the idea of him. "Besides you are far more jealous than I. If this was one of our competitions you'd be sure to win. For a change." he shrugged at the words, as if they were spoken with utmost certainty -- and yet he knew them not to be true. Rickon did not think it was possible to feel jealousy stronger than he did, and yet he kept those feelings at bay when they did arise -- mostly. It was unbecoming of a lord, to act on such impulses. And he had no right to jealousy, not with her. As she proceeded to explain her thoughts, with brows furrowed and words broken in their struggle to convert feelings into thoughts -- he had half a mind to stop her. It felt oddly wrong that she should need to do that, that she should need to reassure him when she was just as much her own person as he had been his own. Just as capable of making decisions, just as certain. And yet it felt good to hear -- it felt good to allow them, even if only this once. Because they etched on, every word of hers engraved into his mind like it was made of stone and they were chisel. "Alright." he says at last then, and his eyes go visibly softer, and his breath eases following much relief. "Thank you. For choosing me." it is all he could utter, all he knew how to express in return. And his cheeks turned warm once more, as she leaned further in. "I would be quite content staying in this room with you as well. For a good amount of time." Her sudden push against his chest nudged him to fake an injury through a hearty laugh. "I keep no secrets from you, that is a vile accusation." he said through that laugh, and his eyes searched to find hers in a moment of contemplation. "You need not know such things." it came out warm and honest. "I've not the words to string together into poetry that could accurately describe the extents of your beauty. No poet does. Such is my curse, and yours -- that I should admire you wordlessly and you should have to accept that." nervousness was surpassed only by the sweet taste of relief, as he expressed something he held onto for much too long. "And know that, well, so long as I am me and...you are you --" his eyes could not hold her gaze, not truly, though a smile did linger. "You will remain the single most beautiful thing."

As she rested her chin against his chest once more, and her fingers traced over his collar bone sending fresh goosebumps up his skin, Rickon felt incredibly at ease. His mind was freed of the barricades placed between his mind and his soul, and for a moment he let himself recall the first time he'd ever laid eyes on her. He remembered everything about that day. The way sun felt against his skin upon reaching the capitol for the very first time. The way smells overwhelmed his senses, and colours were so bright and varied. He remembered the sounds of distant laughter at the bay, the southern birds singing. He remembered how she wore her hair, the colour of her dress, the violet in eyes, the smell of jasmine. Clearly, as if it were all unfolding before his very eyes, he recalled the sound of her voice -- and how quickly she went from a stranger, to a friend. How such moments were written now, permanently, across time and space. So many strings had to intertwine, so many stories come to pass, so much had to have gone exactly right so he could meet her then, so he could hold her now. Rickon pulled her closer, as that thought settled. "It is different to how I thought it would be too." he said quietly, still somewhat lost in thought. He'd never imagined crossing so many lines, never meant for things to get this far. "You must know I never..." voice traced off. Only couple moons ago he would have been betrothed to someone else. His feelings, in a grand scheme of things, always mattered very little. So whatever he did, and did not feel for her through time, mattered little as well. A sweet thought of her smile, a shiver at the touch of her hand, a warmth at the sound of her laughter, those were but harmless, and rare, indulgences. They never went further than that. "I did not plan for things t -- to turn out the way they did." and yet, here they were. So perhaps a part of him had wanted it all the same. Perhaps when all else became distant and obsolete...the principles of duty, and honour and certainty, he wanted her more than he'd ever dared to admit. "But I am glad it is alright with you." he shifted gently, not do disturb the place she lay. "It is alright with me too." Daenyas words entered the room like a sweet lullaby. Perhaps he had been exhausted of travelling, of thinking -- but the hopefulness within her voice made his mind latch on to her effortlessly. He knew no such happiness would ever find them. That no good times would ever come to stay. Long periods of joy, of health, of summer, they were the most rare thing of all. And not for the likes of them. Not in this lifetime, perhaps not even the next. She must have known it too, the girl who spoke with death knew death did not rest. And yet here they were, together, in a moment that made him buy into every single word anyway. Moment so sweet he'd imagined perfectly what their life could someday be. Life where war was long gone, and summer was at its peak, and they were happy and healthy and together. The thought warmed him, even more so than her hands as they dug into his hair anew. Head rested upon her collar, eyes closed as he was permitting the tiredness and the thoughts to overcome him. "A long stretch of good..." he repeated, almost as a whisper, a prayer of sort. "I am prepared...I think." smile pushed into dimpled cheeks, and he did not hear the words she drowned within the fabric of his shirt. Yet he knew them to be sweet, and so without opening his eyes or moving much at all, he placed a gentle kiss upon her neck and let his mind wander off with the dreams.

" YOU CONFESSED TO YOUR JEALOUSY JUST EARLIER ." daeny reminds him lightly , her brows arching with it as her lips twitch in response to his smile . although , now with everything that has happened perhaps the confession can be put into different context . " you said you were frightfully jealous of my faster , stronger friend . have you forgotten ?" she finally allows a smile to bloom over her features at his nudge , a huff of laughter escaping her as she bumps into him lightly in return . " by that you mean it is annoying how charming i am ?" daeny blinks at the words , startled by the line of them . her brow furrows a bit in confusion . " i offer because — because you're rickon ." it seems quite self explanatory to her somehow . of course she would offer . it is rickon . is such a feeling not mutually felt ? she's quite sure rickon would offer quite a great many things to her as well . gods , he offered this , this journey , this danger he had put himself in , for her . was it not the same ? " and — " daeny fumbles for words , for how to explain . " as you are rickon i feel quite strongly for you . and about you . " her eyes meet his with the words , her gaze searching even as she tries , " i wish for you to be happy and i wish to make you happy and — " another fumble for words , her brows knitting tighter together to say , " you are very important to me ." her gaze flicks over his features , searching some level of understanding as she says, "i enjoy things very much when i do them with you . and so as such if i were to pick who to do such things with it ... " a shrug that is more a nervous movement than anything else . " would be you ." she has to blink in surprise as her hand is captured , and as a kiss is placed on her finger she can only feel her ears warm in surprise . the warmth of her flush only grows as rickon continues . " i know you are perhaps charming me ," daeny starts with an arch of her brow at his words , her head tilting with it even as she still feels the warmth of his touch in her hand . " but i actually quite like this room ." she lets her gaze travel around the room with the words , thoughtful before she meets his eyes again to say , " under other circumstances i would be quite content to stay here with you i would think . at least for a good amount of time ." it is pipe dream truly . an unrealistic one . she knows they both know that . and yet daeny feels the need to verbalize it all the same . daeny can't help the warm feeling that floods through her at the sound of his laughter , her grin growing impishly as the action rattles their hands on his chest , as giggles escape her as well . she shifts impossibly closer as if proximity will perhaps bottle the feeling . in a way it perhaps does . " i am glad to hear that i am not the only one who struggles with this ." daeny makes a show of sighing , her eyes twinkling before she lightly teases , " although your story is of course much stranger . i accept you all the same ." daeny rests her chin on rickon's sternum as he speaks , feels her cheeks warm once again as he starts . for a moment it seems as if he perhaps gets lost in thought , an act that only makes her impossibly warmer at the concept . and yet the sentence never finishes . daeny didn't even realize she was waiting for the conclusion until it never came . " i — " daenya has to blink a bit to clear her head , shaking her head a little as her brows furrow to say , " what is that supposed to mean ?" the thought that whatever rickon was thinking was deemed better to not tell her only makes daenya feel more flustered in the moment . she smacks her palm down on his chest with not nearly enough impact to actually wound . " you are keeping a great many secrets lately , you know ." daeny huffs lightly , and yet there is no heat in the words . no , all the heat has somehow found its way to her skin . daeny moves to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear in an attempt to compose herself .

and yet it is rickon taking her braid next , him moving to tuck it away . daeny allows her chin to rest on him anew . she can feel his heartbeat thrumming underneath the point of contact . " i do not mind it ." daeny replies gently and honestly as her lilac eyes meet his . she shrugs once again as she sweeps her palm gently over the cloth of his shirt , smoothing over it before she's pivoting to allow the tip of her finger to trace over his collarbone . " and i do not think it greedy ." there's a beat as her fingers trace back and forth over the skin , her eyes on the movement before she shrugs and adds , " ... i do enjoy that it is me you wish to ask ." daeny can only huff as he continues , her fingers rubbing circles into his scalp as she turns her head to rest her cheek on his chest . there is a beat there where she indulges in the rise and fall of his breath before she says , " you tease me ." a pout even as her fingers gently comb through his curls . " i have never pitied you ." she drinks in the closeness for a moment before she's blinking as he continues . the words push her to straighten , to meet his eyes as she says , " it does benefit me ." the words are insistent , and in the moment daeny is quite sure of them . although she cannot say how exactly she is benefited she knows she is . just as she is benefitted now , as they lay together . this benefits her in a way she is quite sure little else can , and yet rickon provides it so freely . she is grateful for it . " it does ." she sighs as she moves to lean on him anew , fingers twirling a curl around her finger to say, " you will just have to trust me on this fact , rickon ." she blinks as he moves to sit up , surprised by the gentle motion even as his fingers move to enter her hair . her brows furrow . " in ... " daeny fumbles a bit for words . her hands , now extracted from his hair , gesture uselessly to say , " such a way ! you must know what i mean , i —" her brows twitch to furrow . " i knew we would be together for the rest of our days . or at least as many of them as we can . and i knew you felt the same ." a nod as she meets his eyes , as her fingers twist a bit as she adds , " and yet this is different than how i thought we may have meant that ." there's a beat there before she meets his eyes meaningfully again to add , " ... but it is alright with me ."

his next words instantly cause her brows to furrow , knitted together gently as her thumbs pass soothingly over the soft downy hairs curling at his hairline . " i like you as you are ," she insists . it is not the first time daeny has extended such a sentiment and she will do so again . rickon was rickon , and she quite liked him that way . for him to be more like her of all people was not something she would particularly long for . and perhaps for that his admiration comes as a surprise . she allows her hand to smooth over his curls as he speaks . her next words are a whisper and they are a gentle one . a hopeful one as she moves to press them near cheek to cheek as she rests her face on his shoulder . her lips press against it in what is not a kiss but could easily become one as she says , " but perhaps things will be good for a long while ." daeny's eyes are bright with the hope . her fingertips comb through his hair , again and again in a soothing rhythm . " perhaps they will remain good forever one day . wouldn't that be lovely ?" daeny's tone is hopeful as she turns her head towards him , her words near murmured into his ear . " you should learn to enjoy it in preparation for that day . because it will come ." daeny's tone is certain . her head shifts a bit in a nod . " of course small things will happen . you will perhaps stub your toe or maybe ... you will find dinner burnt . but there will be a long stretch of good one day and — you should learn to enjoy it before then ." it is her hope really . that one day there will just be a long stretch of good . a great many years of it . perhaps not today or tomorrow but at some point . she does not want to be weighed heavy with dread when that day comes . she wants to enjoy it as it's happening instead of in hindsight . she shifts to accommodate rickon as he moves closer , as he embraces her and tucks his face into her throat . daeny slides a hand up the nape of his neck and into his hair anew as she warms with pride at the words . at the concept that she could offer such help . she tucks her face into his shoulder once more . " ... you help me forget too ." and it is the truth . the heaviness of it all feels far away in rickon's presence . his previous words echo and daeny can't help but think that she has surely benefitted in a great many ways . her words are hushed and murmured against the fabric of his shirt as she says , " ... thank you ."

[asongofsilks]

ASOIAF FANCASTING --> EVERY NAMED FEMALE CHARACTER ABOVE THE AGE OF FIVE, PART VII

Argella Durrandon (b. approx. 20 BC): Daughter of the last Storm King, Argilac the Arrogant. After he was killed in battle by Orys Baratheon, she declared herself the new Storm Queen, but was betrayed by her own garrison and delivered bound and gagged to the enemy. She then surrendered her kingdom to Aegon the Conqueror and married Orys, founding House Baratheon. Fancast: Amy Bailey.

Arianne Martell (b. 276 AC): The oldest child and heir of Prince Doran Martell. At the age of fourteen, she uncovers what she thinks is her father's plan to disinherit her in favour of her younger brother Quentyn. This leads her to attempt to crown Myrcella Baratheon as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms when her older brother Joffrey dies, so that she will replace her father in the ensuing conflict with the Iron Throne. However, this plan fails and Doran finally shares his plans for a Targaryen restoration with her in the aftermath. Arianne is currently on her way to meet the supposed Aegon, son of Rhaegar Targaryen who miraculously survived the sack of King's Landing. Fancast: Morena Baccarin.

Arra Norrey (c. 110-128 AC): Childhood companion and first wife of Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell. She died giving birth to his first son, Rickon. Fancast: Natalie Portman.

Arrana Stark (b. approx 180 AC): Eldest daughter of Serena Stark and her husband Edric Stark, who was also her uncle. Serena was the younger daughter of Rickon Stark, who was the heir to Winterfell before his death, but none of Rickon's descendants inherited Winterfell. Arrana's older twin brothers, Cregard and Torrhen, probably died young. Arrana was married to Osric Umber, Lord of the Last Hearth, and bore his children. Fancast: Anna Walton.

Arsa Stark (b. approx. 190 AC): Daughter of Lord Brandon Stark, youngest son of Cregan Stark, and his wife Alys Karstark. She had two full older brothers as well as a bastard brother. Fancast: Caren Pistorius.

Arwen Upcliff (era of Andal conquest): Her marriage to Alester II Arryn, King of Mountain and Vale, brought the Witch Isle into his kingdom. Fancast: Camilla Rutherford.

Arwyn Frey (b. 285 AC): Daughter of Lord Walder Frey by Annara Farring. She is one of the Frey maidens presented to King Robb. Fancast: Jordon Stevens.

Arwyn Oakheart (b. approx. 240 AC): Lady of Old Oak and Head of House Oakheart. She is the mother of Arys Oakheart, member of the Kingsguard. She initially supports Renly Baratheon's claim to the Iron Throne after the death of King Robert, but when he dies, she goes along with House Tyrell's support of King Joffrey. Fancast: Cate Blanchett.

Arya Flint (b. approx. 210 AC): Wife of Rodrik Stark, known as the Wandering Wolf, and mother to two daughters. Her younger daughter Lyarra married Lord Rickard Stark, her cousin, and bore the children Brandon, Eddard, Lyanna and Benjen. Eddard named his second daughter after her. Fancast: Hailee Steinfeld.

Arya Stark (b. 289 AC): Second daughter and third child of Lord Eddard Stark and his wife, Catelyn Tully. When Eddard is executed in King's Landing, she goes missing. She attempts to reach her remaining family, but is first captured by Gregor Clegane's men and then her mother and brother Robb are slaughtered by the Freys at the Red Wedding. She then takes a ship to Braavos and becomes an acolyte of the Faceless Men, training to become an assassin. Meanwhile the Lannister-Bolton alliance claim to have found her, and send the false Arya Stark to the North to marry Ramsay Bolton (originally Snow) in order to secure House Bolton's hold over the North. Fancast: Maisie Williams.

Previous

[prodixal]

@ironlamb || daenya targaryen

Rickon failed to understand the need for chains, when he was already locked alone in a singular dark cell, deep beneath the ground. Two guards stood watch at his door, seldom breaking the deafening silence with quiet chatter. He'd tried to listen in, but between the cold brick wall, and a small wooden door with an even smaller opening -- he'd not had much luck. All he could hear was the sound of his stomach rumbling, echoing as it entered the empty space. But now that silence was broken anew with the sound of familiar steps. And Rickon jumped up to his feet, waiting for her to enter. It would be insufficient to say his heart fastened with relief, and mind eased as he spread out his chained hands as wide as he could to pull her in. He knew her well enough to know -- she'd feel much of this was her fault. And that she'd worry. "I'm alright. It's alright." he says with feigned confidence. "It is not so bad here, really..." voice trailed off as he pulled away gently, so his eyes could search for hers. "Are you alright? Y-your family?"

[thesevenkingdomschroniclesrol]

Cregan Stark nació en Invernalia en el año 108, hijo de Rickon Stark, señor de Invernalia. Su madre fue Gilliane Glover y hasta el día de hoy dicha Casa le presta mucho apoyo cada vez que los ha necesitado. Su padre falleció en el año 121 y con sólo trece años quedó como Señor, aunque sin poder ejercer legalmente.

Durante su minoría de edad, su tío Bennard gobernó El Norte como Regente, pero en el 124 Cregan cumplió los dieciséis años y descubrió que su tío no tenía ninguna prisa por renunciar al poder.

La relación entre los dos se volvió tensa, ya que al joven señor le irritaban los límites impuestos por el hermano de su padre. Al final, en el 126 d. C., Cregan se rebeló, encarceló a Bennard, a sus tres hijos, y se hizo con el control directo del Norte.

Poco después se casó con lady Arra Norrey, una estimada compañera de juventud, pero ella murió en el 128 tras dar a luz a su hijo y heredero, al que Cregan llamó Rickon en honor de su padre.

En medio de su duelo y con el invierno cayendo sobre el Norte, Cregan se encontraba realizando las preparaciones para afrontar el duro clima que se les vendría encima cuando el Rey Viserys falleció. Buscando apoyo para su madre Rhaenyra en la guerra que estaba por asumir, se envió al príncipe Jacaerys Velaryon al Norte.

Cregan prometió su ayuda y dos años después se encontraría a sí mismo en Desembarco del Rey, con Aegon II muerto, la ciudad en medio de celebraciones y los traidores caminando en libertad.

Cregan tenía veintitrés años, pero era un hombre y los Rivereños que habían tomado la ciudad, sólo niños que se encogían en su presencia. Desembarco del Rey había recibido a los señores de los Ríos y a sus ejércitos con fiestas, flores y honores.

No fue el caso de los norteños. Para empezar, eran más: un ejército dos veces mayor y con una fama temible. Recorrían la ciudad con arrogancia ataviados con cota de malla y grandes capas de piel, con los rasgos ocultos tras espesas barbas. Muchos de sus norteños no tenían hijos, ni hogar, ni esposa.

Otros, era sólo chicos que marchaban a la guerra para que sus familias no tuvieran una boca más que alimentar durante el invierno. Lord Stark estaba firme en su convicción de continuar la guerra y marchar a Bastión de Tormentas, Antigua y luego a Casterly Rock, los asentamientos más poderosos de los Verdes.

Cuando se le dijo que muchos de sus hombres morirían en dicha locura Cregan les respondió que ya habían muerto desde el momento en que marcharon a la guerra. Lord Stark arrestó a muchos miembros de la corte por el asesinato del Rey Aegon II.

Le parecía un acto de cobardía que hubiese sido asesinado por veneno. Se mantuvo en la Fortaleza Roja por seis días, tiempo que se conoció como “la Hora del Lobo”, confinando a Aegon Menor a la Torre de Maegor.

Cuando se encontraba decido a marchar, empezaron a llegar los cuervos de los señores más importantes del bando de los Verdes rindiéndose y aceptando las condiciones que había enviado antes Lord Velaryon.

Cregan aceptó de mala gana, pero insistió en que todos los responsables de la muerte del Rey debían ser juzgados. Para esta labor, fue nombrado Mano del Rey por el Príncipe Aegon. Gobernando desde un taburete a los pies del trono de Hierro, Cregan permitió que el Septon Eustace fuese liberado, pero condenó al gran Maestre Orwyle y a ser Gyles Belgrave.

Otros veintidós hombres también fueron condenados a muerte; aceptó liberar a los soldados de la casa Strong que habían salvado a Baela ya que esta salió con espada en mano a defenderles.

También condenó a Corlys Velaryon a muerte, quien dijo haber actuado por el bien del reino y a Larys Strong, señor de Harrenhal. Cregan ignoró el edicto que el Rey decretó para liberar a Lord Velaryon. Sólo concedió perdonarle la vida debido a que una moza se lo pidió; Alysanne Blackwood.

Cregan nunca había visto una mujer como ella y se impresionó tanto con la presencia de la dama que cuando ésta le pidió perdonar la vida de Corlys, él accedió a cambio de que se casara con él. Una mano por una cabeza.

Decidió que personalmente decapitaría a todos los condenados a muerte con Hielo. Cuando permitió que Perkin la Pulga se uniera a la Guardia de la noche, la mayoría de los condenados a muerte pidieron tomar el negro, excepto Gyles y Larys Strong.

Al día siguiente, Lord Cregan renunció a su puesto como mano y luego de la coronación de Aegon volvió al norte, rehusando servir como Regente. Lord Cregan se casó con Alysanne Blackwood en Invernalia en el 132 D.C.

Lord Benjicot Blackwood partió de Los Ríos hacia El Norte, por la boda y fue asaltado tres veces por el camino. El Norte ya estaba en las garras del invierno, por lo que el viaje duró el triple de lo previsto.

La mitad de los jinetes perdieron el caballo mientras la columna luchaba contra las ventiscas y los carruajes de lord Blackwood sufrían el ataque de bandas de forajidos que se llevaron la mayor parte de las provisiones y todos los regalos de boda.

Sin embargo, la ceremonia en sí fue espléndida; Aly la Negra y su lobo proclamaron sus votos ante el árbol corazón, en los bosques helados de Invernalia. En el banquete subsiguiente, Rickon Stark entonó una canción dedicada a su nueva madrastra.

En el Norte, durante el resto del 132 y 133 el espectro del hambre empezaba a acechar; Cregan Stark y sus vasallos veían disminuir sus reservas de provisiones, y se recibían noticias de que la Guardia de la Noche tenía que rechazar cada vez más incursiones de los salvajes del otro lado del Muro además de que una terrible peste había llegado a Puerto Blanco enfermando a la población.

Hubo miles de muertos, entre ellos lord Desmond Manderly. Su hijo, ser Medrick, el mejor caballero del Norte, lo sobrevivió solo cuatro días, antes de caer víctima del mismo mal. Cregan lamentó escucharlo y envió sus condolencias al nuevo Señor de Puerto Blanco, Torrhen Manderly.

Como si ese año no hubiese estado plagado de malas nuevas, la peor llegó al final cuando recibió en sus manos una misiva del Lord Comandante de la Guardia de la Noche anunciándole la caída de Puerta de la Reina; tres mil salvajes habían cruzado hacia el Agasajo. ¿Qué podía hacer él? Con el invierno tan avanzado nadie deseaba salir de sus asentamientos.

No había provisiones que gastar y pasar la noche a la intemperie; era casi una sentencia de muerte para aquellos que no estaban preparados para el frío. Lúgubre, tuvo que acudir a sus vasallos más leales y con quienes los unía un lazo de familia: Los Glover de Bosquespeso, los Flint y los Norrey de las Colinas.

Un centenar de exploradores de la Guardia de la Noche se les uniría para darles caza y acabar con los salvajes, pero aún no era suficiente. En su hora más oscura, Margaret Stark, la esposa de su tío, solicitó que se libere a sus hijos a cambio de la asistencia de la casa Karstark. Cregan debe tomar una decisión difícil para poder conservar la paz reinante en el Norte. 

¿Podrá confiar en esos primos que ha mantenido tantos años como prisioneros para que lo asistan en reducir a los Salvajes? ¿Puede recuperar el Agasajo sin la ayuda de los Karstark?

[prodixal]

"Worry not, my lady, I should not need handle the heat for long. Once the celebrations cease, I am expected back in Karhold at my earliest convenience. With both my brothers in the capitol, I fear they've little use for me here." and he would not complain either. Summers used to be fun in Kings Landing, back when he was a child and his father would let him enjoy getting into all sorts of trouble with the royal kids. Now, he was a stranger here, had it not been for the chance to see his family and seek out Daenya, he would likely not have come. "It is an open offer, my lady -- the north should be happy to have you shine some light on it."

Rickon finds relief in knowing she was unaware of his curious gaze of admiration, and it helps him ease away the slight sense of nervousness as he now falls into a more stern and confident step. "I should think the princess is lucky to have you at their side. I imagine it could not have been easy for her --" since the passing of their late brother. Though he does not say that part aloud. --- As she considers his question, a smile will enter his cheeks and he'll nod as she grapples deciding her favourite among so many to choose from. "The libraries are exquisite to be sure. Though I know less of their contents, and more of the good hiding spots should one attempt a game of hide and seek." during his childhood summers spent here, he did not exactly waste much time reading. His passion for written word came much later. "I see. I am glad to hear you're finding this place so to your liking. Seems you've made it quite a home for yourself."

"oh that's right.. i can imagine the heat of the south is something that's difficult to get used to," she says with a nod. "that is quite nice to hear, i may just have to take you up on that offer sometime," telessa says with a smile. she cannot imagine a time where she will be leaving the keep anytime soon, but should she ever choose to travel, it would be nice to see what charms the north holds, like he said.

telessa is blissfully unaware of how his eyes linger on her as she is simply in awe of the gardens. they are almost as grand as the ones she remembers back on casterly rock. but it's been so long.. the memories are fading. "i spend most of my time attending to the princess but i do like coming out here, in my free time, yes," she tells him, finally looking up to smile at him. "the best place in the keep? now that is quite the question.. i do enjoy the libraries quite a lot, but the courtyards are peaceful as well. and the throne room, the iron throne is certainly a sight to behold... it's hard to choose just one place."

[asongofsilks]

ASOIAF FANCASTING –> EVERY NAMED FEMALE CHARACTER ABOVE THE AGE OF FIVE, PART XXIII

Gella (main series era): Granddaughter of Lord Godric Borrell of Sweetsister, one of the three islands known as the Sisters. Fancast: Lia Pappas-Kemps.

Genna Lannister (b. 245 AC): Only daughter of Lord Tytos Lannister of Casterly Rock, and sister to Lord Tywin. At the age of seven, she was betrothed to her husband Emmon Frey, second son of Lord Walder Frey of the Twins, and went on to have four sons with him. Her son Tion is murdered by Rickard Karstark during the War of the Five Kings. After Lord Edmure Tully of Riverrun is attainted by King Tommen, Riverrun and its lands and incomes are granted to Emmon. My own headcanon: Obviously, this is a young Genna - simply can't find a good fancast for older Genna. Fancast: Juno Temple.

Gilliane Glover (b. approx. 90 AC): Wife of Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and mother to Lord Cregan Stark, famous for his involvement in the Dance of the Dragons. Fancast: Amelia Warner.

Gilly (b. 283 AC): Daughter and wife to Craster, who makes his keep beyond the Wall and lives alone with his many daughters and wives, sacrificing his sons to the Others for protection. To save the life of her son, Gilly pleads with Samwell Tarly and Jon Snow, brothers of the Night's Watch on Lord Commander Mormont's great ranging, to take her with them back across the Wall. After the mutiny of the Night's Watch against Lord Mormont, Sam flees back to the Wall with Gilly, facing the Others when they come to fetch the child. They are saved by a mysterious figure known as Coldhands, who takes them to a secret entrance through the Wall ending in the Nightfort, and they make it to Castle Black. While at Castle Black, Gilly becomes the wet nurse for the son of Mance Rayder, as his wife Dalla has died during the birth. The new Lord Commander Jon Snow, fearing for the safety of Mance Rayder's son, secretly sends him south to Oldtown with Sam and Master Aemon, forcing Gilly to leave her real child behind. She becomes Sam's lover during the long journey, and Sam intends to send her to his family at Horn Hill, claiming the child as his bastard with Gilly. Fancast: Hannah Murray.

Gretchel (main series era): A serving woman at the Eyrie. Fancast: Ruth Gordon.

Grisel (main series era): The head of Petyr Baelish's household at his ancestral holding on the Fingers, formerly his wet nurse. Fancast: Jessica Tandy.

Grisella (lived c. 280 AC): A skinchanger of the Free Folk who could inhabit the body of a goat. Fancast: Peta Rutter.

Gwenys Rivers (b. 174 AC): Bastard daughter to Aegon IV Targaryen and his sixth mistress, Lady Melissa Blackwood. She had an older sister. Her younger brother was Brynden Rivers, who would go on to become a greenseer and the Hand of King Aerys I. Fancast: Freya Mavor.

Gwin Goodbrother (b. approx. 280 AC): One of the twelve daughters of Lord Gorold Goodbrother of Hammerhorn in the Iron Islands. Fancast: Emma Fuhrmann.

Gwynesse Harlaw (b. approx. 240 AC): Elder sister of Lord Rodrik Harlaw of Ten Towers. Her husband died during the Ironborn Rebellion and she subsequently returned to Ten Towers, where she constantly reminds her brother that the castle should be hers since she is the elder. Fancast: Diana Scarwid.

Previous

[prodixal]

He falls in the step with her, craving some company more than anything else. Rickon knew the following days will be filled with ass kissing, and noble lords and ladies pretending to be better people than they really are. So before being thrown into the deep end, he wished to hear from someone who had been in said 'deep end' for some time now. "My family would hate to find me speak so freely, but I wish nothing more than some unfiltered truth regarding this place. It has been a decade since my last visit, and I fear finding myself out of my depth." Rickon had been warned, about trusting people in Kings Landing. It was not a smart thing to do. But he had met Alson as a child, and he knew the most important thing there was to know -- she had honour. And North did not play with its honour. "So, any advice? Any warnings?"

house karstark has always been close and loyal to house stark, an off branch house formed by stark cousins centuries ago that still shares blood of the first men together to this day. though alson was never given the name of stark, she will always have a place in her heart for the northern houses. so when rickon karstark approaches her, she feels that sense of home at the sound of his voice. "thank you, my lord," she says with a small smile. it was good to hear of home but to know that there was some pride despite her having the name snow was good. "i believe we could arrange that. what can i do for you?"

[prodixal]

@ironlamb | daenya targaryen

He looked for her in the crowd, then the tunnels, then the Keep. He climbed up to her chambers, then searched the kitchen, the stables, and all the places he hoped she might be. Failure to find her stirred awake a sense of worry, his mind pulling forth the memories of her burden. To see death, to feel it -- he knew, should he stay within the confines of his chambers, he would not welcome any sleep. Hesitantly, after a long moment of pacing and uncertainty, he packed up a small bag, put on a coat to shield him from the harshness of the night cold, and he set off to the meadow by the river where they agreed to meet. And he sat there, in darkness, in silence, awaiting dawn -- until the sound of broken twigs, a warning of the steps approaching, pulled him out of thought. "Daeny?" he's up on his feet, eyes adjusting, and a sense of relief washes over him as she steps closer. Without hesitation, or any reservation, he will pull her against his chest. "I tried to find you --" he holds her for a moment still, before pulling away. One arm resting over her shoulder, as the other cupped her face and he leaned lower to face her against the dark. "What happened?"

[prodixal]

@fyrebrandd | helaena targaryen

There was an art to sneaking into servants quarters, and over the years he'd become somewhat proficient. It was a necessary step, to bypass those corridors so that he could reach the window outside which the canopies and bricks were laid out in a perfect manner -- to climb over the balcony of Daenya's chambers. Only it was not Daeny he had found, once entering the dim-lit room. "Princess Helaena --" he's locked in step, looking around as if to ensure he was in the right place. He'd never been caught sneaking in before, so whatever excuses he may have once had, evaporated long ago. "I can assure you, this is not --" what it looks like?

[prodixal]

@wyldwolves || lyanna stark. contd.

“Or a dancer, perhaps.” he smiles at the thought. The world had enough fighters. Perhaps if everyone was more fond of dancing instead fighting, it would be a better place. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me Stark.” He laughs then, for the first time tonight, and pinches gently the tip of her nose. “Aye, I’d have taken great offence had you declined.” another soft laugh, perhaps he could call for Ashara as well, have the two speak of motherhood as he entertains the boys. “I will not be staying long, I don’t think. You will be safe here, with your family…and mine.” he squeezes gently at her hand. Being here was more than he’d truly dared face. He needed to put distance between himself, and the south, and the girl he could not have. “I will be heading to the Vale in three days time. I have some business to attend there. But I should meet you in Winterfell upon your return. You and our child, of course. I was offered congratulations today by Lord Caswell, it took all I had not not to laugh in his face.” for all the months together, Rickon never did learn who the father of the child really was. Perhaps he never would. He stopped in his tracks then, turning to face her, and he took her hands into his own. “Tell me you are alright Lyanna. That you do not feel frightened…or lonely.”

[prodixal]

"Oh it is far more likely should you venture North, you'd wind up at Winterfell. Our cousins are more favourably located, and I dare say -- just as hospitable." it was not often one happened upon his home, not unless they were heading toward it with a purpose. "Nonetheless, if you find yourself North of the Vale, feel free to send out a raven. I will ride out, if duty allows.'

He proceeds to observe, as her smile mellows -- and he wonders if it is sadness that now lingers between her words, or the heaviness of longing. Regardless, Rickon will find himself strangely akin to the other. For the winter too had met him as a boy, and left him a man scarred by loss and strengthened by necessity. "What is the saying? Smooth seas never made a skilled sailor? Suppose it applies rather literally to you, my lady." gentle smile tugs on his lips as he tries to soften the conversation, for the talk of home was starting to feel more bitter than sweet.

"Now that the spring is here, have you any plans to sail the Narrow Sea?" he didn't know why that question arose, only that if he had the skill...and the ship -- it would be the first thing he'd do. -- "I should think the sea a better friend...and a kinder enemy than a man." and there were far more men on land. "Though I suppose you would know better, 'm lady." a curious nod will nudge her way, with all the attentiveness his eyes can afford. "So, which will it be? Land or the sea?"

Jaenara listens to the description of Karhold, trying to picture it in her mind. Despite the generosity her parents afforded her in letting her travel, it had still been an incredibly limited area. She couldn't imagine what the rest of the world must look like and she hung onto every detail she could get.

"If ever I find myself fortunate enough to travel north, I hope you will give me a thorough tour. It sounds striking." And as the topic turned to Driftmark, her smile became wistful and tinged with sadness.

"Winter... yes. While I doubt the severity was anywhere near what you and your people experienced, it became treacherous for our sailors and coastal towns. We lost many ships, many merchants, trying to ensure food and supplies were transported to the other lands in Westeros. I learned to sail during the winter, though, and I do like to think I'm stronger for it." Her gaze, which had locked onto the ground as she spoke, returned to him. "Tell me, My Lord, do you think there's more to fear on land or on sea?"

[prodixal]

@eclipt1cs || shaera targaryen

The staff never truly slept, rotating their shifts instead so that the good Westerosi nobility could have access to their every wish and whim at any given time. Yet, late at night, as hours passed and sleep crept in for most, the numbers withered and servants slithered into their own quiet little corners. Rickon entered one of the kitchens quietly, and let the old woman return to her knitting as he tossed more wood into the furnace and warmed up some milk. Sleep evaded him. Heat did not agree with him. And he was ready to venture back North. As Shaera entered, he'd mistaken her for Daenya at first. His heart dropping momentarily before his eyes adjusted to the dim candle lights dancing across the kitchen walls. "Princess." he nodded her way, his voice quiet as he moved in-between familiar spaces reaching for another cup to fill, searching for the words to say. Though none seemed to come. Perhaps it would have been easier, more proper, if he had come to her directly in days past. Perhaps the right words only ever came to a rested mind, in which case, the circumstances of their reunion mattered little. "Milk?"

[prodixal]

@trcshcans || vaegon targaryen

"I hear you're to be a father soon -- " he says, stepping closer to pull the other into a much overdue hug. "Time flies, aye? Seems like only yesterday you had a knife to my throat. Or was that Helaena? Can't recall." he chuckles at the words, looking down to where the blades might've hid with a smile spread on. "Are you busy Vaegon? Shall we venture to the kitchens?"

[prodixal]

@fyrebrandd || helaena hightower

He approached the princess in spite the company which now surrounded her, wide smile pushed into dimpled cheeks as ignored the ladies that fell more quiet with each step he got closer. "Princess," he began, bowing his head quick and proper. "I fear I must request your company on the account of some urgent matter. Ladies, if you'll excuse us." he offers out his arm, trying his hardest to contain a laugh brewing beneath the heaviness of a spoken lie. Rickon knew she would see right through it, after all, what urgent matter would he have to convey? Once far enough, his eyes found hers and a cheeky smile assumed. "Oh do not hold it against me, I know that crowd was no fun."

[prodixal]

Rickon never once underestimated the value of family. From young age he'd found that nothing brought him quite as much joy as having his family beneath the same roof. But times changed, winter came and separation festered between the Karstark boys leaving behind a gaping sense of loneliness. Still, it was human nature to adjust, and to overcome, and so he did. Now, the gods were rewarding the patient. He was in joyous company of his sister in law, his nephews, and he had no doubts soon enough Thorian would extend their family some more. Things were good, and summer was here, and war was over. But happiness felt dangerous, and he was reluctant to touch it -- for every time something sweet blossomed beneath his skin, something bitter came to wash it all away. Rickon did not let such thoughts show, however, instead he smiled at Asharas words nodding politely at the mention of her babies and his own mother. "She is doing very well." he says. "She misses father still, I am sure she always will, but you have brought her so much joy Ashara. You will see, once you meet, North may be a cold place but the people are warm. My mother most of all." as much as his sister in law desired to see lady Wylla, it most certainly paled in comparison to how much his mother desired to see her grandchildren. There were beautiful things yet to come. "Have you spoken to Alec? Of going North sometime soon?" he asks, though his attention is still divided between her and Olyver. "You are our ruling lady, people are eager to meet you." her place, his brothers place, it was now bound to Karhold. They had duties that could not be dealt with so far South. "Do you feel...prepared?" he'd yet to ask such a question, to dive into her mind in regards to her newfound responsibilities. And yet, she was so graceful, so smart and kind and wonderful that he could hardly picture a better ruling lady. But in spite her character, she was a Southerner, and she had yet to truly learn of the cold, and the grey life of the North. Which reminded him -- "I almost forgot." he says, hopping to his feet to rush quickly toward the door next to which he'd left a medium-sized box. Olyver followed him in a wobbling fashion and giggled as he feigned a groan to lift the box off the ground. "I've a gift for your mother -- help me walk back to her lad." he says, keeping the gift in one hand and extending the other for the boy to take and walk back with him to where Ashara had now sat with a baby in her hands. "Karhold is not known for its grand library but, I gathered what I could. There is books on history, customs and so on, should you find it helpful." he places the box by her feet. "Lyanna helped too, Winterfell had more to offer in terms of...logistical scripts, but you need not worry much of those our maester will help you settle once you come." Finally he is back on the floor beside her, where he continued to fidget with the many toys shared by the little boy. A chuckle escaped him at last and he gave Ashara quick glance. "Rickona is a perfectly fine unique name." he was adamant to have at least one of the children named after him, and so far it seemed a losing battle. But a jest of it got sweeter with each day, he supposed. Eventually, his brows furrowed slightly in confusion. "You wish to make Olyver a Dayne?" it made sense, even if it pained him to admit so. "Not a Karstark?" he was certain those would not be his brothers wishes, he'd known his brother enough to know Olyver was his son, blood was no matter. "Are you certain it is what you want?"

people found purpose in many things. as warriors, protectors of those who needed it the most, rulers, or devoting oneself to adventure. for ashara, whose tender hands took to pursuits of healing, mending, caring for others, her purpose was motherhood. that she would be surrounded by sons, and hopefully daughters, to fill her home with light and laughter until her time came. "they are my greatest reward, and my greatest challenge. this one fussed most of the journey to king's landing, poor sweet boy." she spoke of arthor as she ran a hand over his light blonde crown. "i regret that you left your mother behind. i know her place is in karhold... but i would've liked to meet her and have her here with us, very much." for herself, for alecor and their boys, and for her own mother who shared a similar fate of having lost her husband. she was glad rickon had stayed with her for a while though, and given her strength to see this difficult time through.

she watched rickon with her sons, a natural. "fun uncle, is it? nymor may covet that title for himself." she laughed. "he's taking to the small baby, yes. he did object in the first weeks, bouts of jealousy here and there. i anticipated as much, he had me all to himself for a good while." adept at deciphering her toddler's ramblings, ashara listened and smiled when olyver proffered two toys. "for me, my love? i think i'd prefer this one." ashara placed the toy of her choosing in her lap, and he took to piling on more toys, and withdrawing some as if there was a system to his actions. "tell your brother that as well. a girl with raven hair." she would love every child the gods saw fit to bless them with, it was an unspoken fact. "rickona. is that a very common name in the north?" asked with an arched brow before she broke into a chuckle, mirth faltering only as she pondered his question.

"of course i am. i am to represent karhold alongside alecor, to fight for our titles, our home, for arthor's inheritance. and for olyver's, as well. i intend to speak to princess obella, to make him a dayne."