adam-stark

[adam-stark]

HOUSE STARK OF WINTERFELL

@owenstark, @daceystvrk, @cassvstark, @devotionturns

[adam-stark]

Closed starter for @naaijas Setting: Winterfell, the North. During the celebratory ball for King Owen Stark's nameday.

Adam stood at the edge of the hall, half in shadow, watching the dance unfold with a glass of wine untouched in his hand. Large gatherings had never come naturally for the Northern prince, though he had grown better at navigating them with time. This celebration belonged to Owen, and for that, he endured it gladly. Despite his more reserved nature, the lone wolf of House Stark was in good spirits tonight. He had simply stepped back for a moment, letting himself breathe, regaining a bit of his social footing before returning to the heart of things.

A gown of sea-green caught in the firelight, bright against the darker tones of the hall, drew his gaze. He turned to see Lady Naija Manderly also making her way to the periphery of the party. With a goblet in her hand, the young woman stood but mere feet away from him.

It had been some time since he'd last seen the Manderly lady. Her house had been a stalwart ally to the Starks for generations, though the events of the past years had begun to change North, pulling houses, interests and loyalties in many different directions.

“Lady Manderly,” the Commander of the Kingsguard said with a light nod, offering a polite smile. “You've also gotten tired of dancing?”. His voice was quiet but laced with wry amusement. He himself had only taken to the floor once, and only to spare Dacey from some unwanted company.

[adam-stark]

“Lucky her, indeed” Adam exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. It was nowhere near as chilly as Winterfell, but it felt familiar enough for the Commander to feel at ease. He was enjoying his time in the Riverlands, he could not deny it, but there was always a part of him that began to yearn for his homeland after being away from the Northern woods for more than a couple of days. Neither he nor Nellie were the most sociable of individuals, and perhaps that was why they’d struck such an agreeable, comforting relationship. They could chat or they could stand in silence, and still at ease with each other.

The Velaryon lady spoke his son’s name and the prince smiled a little. “Elissa chose it. It was her father's name,” he said after a moment, turning to lean against the balcony’s railing with his back to the Riverlands’ scenery, his head turned to the side to look. Lord Hadrian Dustin had died in the early years of the Dance, and his late wife had loved her late father very dearly. She wanted that name for her firstborn -the only son she ended up having- and Adam had no argument against it. “I just didn’t want him to have a name that felt like carrying a burden,” he said after a moment. That was why he’d not even suggested naming his boy after his own father, his dead brother, or even naming him after himself.

The lone wolf of House Stark crossed his arms across his chest and smiled as Nellie asked more about his song. His posture was more relaxed as images of Hadrian filled his mind, how the little boy watched the world with wide, curious eyes. Always reaching, always searching. “He's aware of everything,” Adam admitted, his tone softer. “Always watching, always listening. If you put something in front of him, he has to touch it, turn it over in his hands. He has to figure out what it is”. He let out a quiet breath, almost a chuckle. “Nothing like me”. He wasn’t sure if that was true, not entirely. It was too soon to tell how much his son would be like him. But Adam told himself Hadrian didn't take after him. He wasn't burdened with any of the things Adam carried —grief, guilt, the ghosts of the past pressing at his back. His son was just a little boy. Innocent, bright. And Adam would keep it that way for as long as he could.

“I would like you to,” Adam confirmed without hesitation. It had been some time since the Velaryon lady last visited Winterfell. “So consider this an official invitation”. He even thought she might accompany his family on the way back from the Riverlands if she wished to extend her travels, if she did not mind being away from her home for a few more days.

¿

naelys’s fingers brushed lightly against the cool stone of the balcony railing as she gazed out over the riverlands, the fading moonlight casting a silver glow across the landscape. "lucky kora." there was a slight smile on her features, dark hair in the chilly riverland wind; knowing all too well the both of them would love to be at home right now. not the most outgoing or social creatures, she looked at adam and sometimes wondered if that was what people thought of when they thought her depressing or low.

the name of his son lingered in her mind, curling around her thoughts like the soft breeze that stirred her jet black hair. she turned slightly, her lilac eyes catching adam’s as she spoke, her voice soft and thoughtful. "hadrian," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue with a quiet curiosity. "it’s a strong name... a name of kings, perhaps?" she tilted her head, a small, contemplative smile playing at her lips. "it’s strange, isn’t it? to think of you with a son now." her gaze softened, the faintest trace of a wistful expression crossing her features. "it makes us all feel so much older."

her fingers traced absent patterns on the railing as she continued, her voice carrying the lilting quality of the sea breeze. "....what does it mean, hadrian?" she glanced at adam, her eyes shimmering with genuine curiosity. "it sounds like a very heavy name." for a moment, her gaze drifted back to the horizon, the distant hills bathed in the silver glow of the ruling moon.

she turned back to him, her eyes glimmering with quiet warmth. with comfort. there was something about the starks that seemed to feel like home, even if the thought never truly crossed her mind. "tell me about him, adam. about hadrian. what is he like?" her voice was gentle, inviting, as if she wished to weave his story into her own understanding of the world. she wondered what a stark baby was like. was it just a baby? was it as fierce and loyal?

"if you would like me to." her smile lingered, delicate and sincere, as she waited for his response, the quiet evening settling around them like a comforting embrace.

[adam-stark]

Cyrene was quick to reply. Adam studied his sister's expression, everything else that could be communicated beyond just words to gauge whether or not that simple 'No' was truthful. It went without saying that if his sister was harmed by her husband in any capacity, the Northern Giantslayer would march against the Frey wretch, no questions asked. Alas, there was some relief in learning she was well and that one of her children had accompanied her to the North.

One by one, the surviving Starks found their way to the godswood on that day. Like Cyrene, he also believed Cassana's vision had manifested, and thus, they found themselves together. His own strange episodes were a clear reminder that nothing of the sort was ever a mere coincidence. All of them pulled closer together, holding hands, resting heads on shoulders, hands resting on backs. The absence of those they had lost lingered like a ghost in Adam's mind as the pack stood close.

It was a rare and peaceful moment. The red leaves of the Weirwood tree rustled in the cold breeze, and the faint scent of pine and frost hung in the air in a way that felt entirely like home to Adam. “Brings back memories, does it not?” he said then, looking at his brother and sisters. So much of their youth happened here. Praying, confiding, playing.

@daceystvrk

dacey had been spending more time in the godswood of late, seeking to clear her mind, looking for guidance and insight that did not come. it was amongst the trees where she felt most comfortable these days, but there was only so much that could do for her. and yet, still she came, searching for answers for questions she had not quite figured out how to ask.

oftentimes, when she visited, she would find herself here alone. today, that was not so. the figures of her elder brother and sister loomed before her, sharing a moment of tenderness. she was glad of that - her own reunion with cyrene had been a frosty one, and that was enough to both weigh on her conscience and have her hesitating, dithering between the trees as she pondered whether to interrupt, if her presence would be welcomed in the moment they shared. she was about to turn and return to the keep, leaving them to it, when the sound of her footsteps had adam turning, and she could no longer pretend she had never been there at all.

instead of turning, dacey drew a little closer, leather-gloved hands clasping together before her, coming to a stop a few meters away from them. near, but still apart, still retaining some distance. "sorry," her voice was sheepish when she spoke, the smile on her face a tentative one. "i didn't mean to intrude on you." she'd caught none of their conversation, but before she could speak, another of their kin made their presence known, and her tension relaxed a little. "we're all of a similar mind today, i think."

@owenstark

[adam-stark]

Adam’s gaze softened as Naelys repeated Cassana’s name, her lilac eyes shimmering with a faint light that even the fading sun couldn’t rival. “You remember what matters to you, Nellie, and that’s more than enough,” he replied with a subtle grin, his tone light yet sincere. There was no trace of reproach about her forgetting his siblings' names. For a long time, he'd been acquainted with Naelys' airy, daydreamy nature and not once did he consider it a fault.

The Northern prince smiled at her next remark, about still having her head. It was an unexpected response and Adam appreciated the conversation even more for it. Then, her remark about the Northern air drew a quiet laugh from the prince, a sound as rare as sunlight breaking through clouds. “You’d be welcome at Winterfell anytime,” he said, his voice steady but genuine. “Though I’m not sure it’s height you’d gain there. Perhaps a new appreciation for the cold, or an even stronger appreciation for hearths and hot cider”. His words were tinged with amusement, for he was too aware that only Northerners truly enjoyed their wintry land. But the invitation carried an earnestness beneath the mild tease. He would be glad to welcome the Velaryon lady in Winterfell anytime she wished to visit, and he was certain Dacey would welcome her friend gladly as well.

As she spoke of her meeting with Dacey, Adam couldn’t help but marvel at the way Naelys’s entire demeanor shifted. Her quieter, shier demeanor gave way to a kind of joy that was unguarded, luminous. “I'm most fortunate for the siblings I have. Dacey is a wonderful person. Keeps to herself, as some of us Starks tend to do. I’m glad the two of you had the chance to truly talk. It was long overdue, after all those letters”. Nellie's mention of her own sister made him tilt his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his expression, but he chose not to press. Instead, a faint smile crossed his lips when she mentioned his direwolf.

“Kore? She stayed behind in Winterfell. But I'll tell her you were asking about her,” he said in a gentle tone. Both Saga, his first direwolf, and Kore had taken a liking to Naelys. It was not hard to figure out why. Adam was certain that the large creature would be behaving like a sweet pup around the Velaryon lady if she were here, laying down by her skirts with her belly upwards to get some cuddles and scratches. “She's grown quite protective of my son, Hadrian. I feel better knowing he's well-guarded while I'm away from home”. The little prince was still too young to make trips like this one to the Riverlands, and Adam had done everything in his power to ensure his son was cared for and protected. “I'd like you to meet my boy one day. If you and your brother do make that trip to Winterfell, I'll introduce you”.

¿

naelys velaryon’s fingers stilled on the loose strings of her corset, though the small, contemplative smile on her lips lingered as she processed adam stark’s words. her silver hair, catching the soft amber glow of the setting sun filtering through the chamber windows, framed her face in a way that accentuated the brightness in her lilac eyes—a brightness that sparked with a faint flicker of amusement at his reply. “cassana,” she repeated, her tone thoughtful as though tasting the name for the first time. “your sister.” her voice softened, her confusion melting into understanding.

“i suppose i should remember that now. forgive me—there are so many names to keep track of. the sea does not trouble itself with such things,” she added, her words carrying a lilting, almost wistful quality.

her gaze shifted to him, her vivid purple hues bright as they spoke. for all his gloom and for all her anxious unsettled nerves, she never found herself needing to second guess, or think too hard. as natural as the waves kissing the chore. “grown shorter? well, i hardly think so...i still have my head.” her voice lended a musical quality to her words. “perhaps it is merely the northern air giving you some sense of height. maybe i shall have to visit winterfell with deimos to see if it works on me. maybe.”

she let her fingers trail absently over the pendant now hanging around her neck, her movements deliberate yet unhurried. there was something grounding about his presence, though she would never say so aloud.she were too shy for that. instead, she tilted her head slightly, her lips quirking into a small smile, nodding. when she brightened at the mention of dacey stark, her face seemed to transform, her earlier calm replaced by an unmistakable warmth. “dacey? she’s... wonderful,” naelys said, her voice tinged with an almost unusual girlish excitement. her hands clasped together as she recounted their meeting.

“we talked for hours. about everything—your family, my family, the big wide world. she is just as generous in person as she is with her words, if not more so. you have a very nice sister, adam. much nicer than my sister.” her smile softened, the radiance in her expression dimming only slightly as a trace of introspection seeped into her tone.

she then looked behind him, as though to expect to see his companion. "oh. where is your pup?"

[adam-stark]

Robert Pattinson as Neil — TENET (2020) dir. Christopher Nolan [20/∞]

[adam-stark]

Adam watched her, a small smile tugging at his lips as she fiddled with her corset strings. It was the sort of absentminded habit he had observed in her a few times before, the sort of action that made him wonder just how comfortable she might feel around him. Naelys had never appeared to be much of a social creature, perhaps leaning toward solitary sea shores as he did to wintry, lonely woods. But the prince did hope she found the same ease in his company as he did hers.

The furrow of her brow at the mention of Cass amused him. “Cassana. My sister,” he clarified with ease, tender, never mocking of her confusion. There had always been something light, airy and dreaming about the Velaryon lady in how she moved about the world and how she spoke. For the gloomy Northern prince, it was something soothing, never something to deride or make fun of.

“I don't think I've grown since we last met,” Adam murmured, considering her assertion. “Perhaps you've grown shorter, Nellie,” he offered in return, a warm chuckle accompanying his words.

“Do I?” he raised an eyebrow, glancing toward her. Her teasing about his opportune presence pulled yet another genuine smile from the lone wolf of House Stark. “If that is indeed a talent I possess that I was unaware of, I cannot say I can complain about it”. Naelys said he appeared when she least expected it, and Adam could only hope his appearance was a surprise of the positive kind.

Adam's usual solemnity had vanished entirely around the Lady of Driftmark, for when she brightened about meeting his sister, the prince's smile widened ever so slightly. “You two had been exchanging letters for some years now, correct? I'm glad to hear you have finally met in person”. Naelys' eyes sparkled as she spoke of Dacey and he could only hope the meeting had brought similar joy to his sister.

“How was it? Meeting each other at last?” he inquired, inviting her to share more about an experience that so evidently brought her some excitement. He was pleased to know two people so dear to him had found some happiness in crossing paths at last.

¿

naelys stood still for a moment, her fingers still toying with the undone string of her corset. she could feel the weight of his words, but it didn't quite feel like the heavy, pressing thing she'd feared. there was something almost comforting in his presence, something familiar and grounding. she let her shoulders relax, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as he stepped back, his work done. her brow furrowed as he mentioned a name she did not recognise; her face was painted with confusion.

"i don't think i know a cass...?"

"yes... it is very nice," she repeated, more to herself than to him. the word felt simple, but it was enough. they didn’t need to say much for it to mean everything, not when so many of their conversations had been left unsaid between the lines. "you look taller." putting the necklace around her neck felt like a small but significant thing, a reminder of moments like this one—quiet, unexpected, and somehow more real than any of the grand gestures.

"i didn't expect to see you here," she said, her voice quiet but warm. there was a soft, teasing edge to her words. "but then again, you’ve always had a way of showing up when i least expect it." she could almost hear his dry laugh in her mind, the one that always came after his half-smiles. but there was something more there now, something that made the air between them feel lighter.

and then her face brightened slightly more, visibly. "oh! i finally met dacey!" he knew the two were close friends, but over written form only. despite her betrothal to adam once upon a time, she never managed to meet the second oldest stark princess.

[adam-stark]

END.

( tw: mention of drug use )

Adam looked at his younger sister in silence. She spoke of quitting the substance and ensuring he didn't take it again as if it was something that had not crossed his mind already. Thinking about stopping and actually being able to do it were different matters. The Stark prince had prided himself on being a determined man before, but sheer determination wasn't enough when something inside urged him to take another dose.

“Owen knows,” he admitted plainly. Owen sanctioned it, he thought but didn't say it. Their brother only agreed to have Adam and his men take the substance for the war once the prince had already tried it for himself. And so he did not want to have Cass' pent-up anger be aimed toward their eldest brother for a misleading reason. “I can barely last two days without feeling like my mind is shattering,” the Commander replied. There were things he was saying and things he kept to himself, for it was much too complex to detail every little symptom the withdrawal could bring. But this element in particular —the effect on the mind— was something he wished to bring out with Cassana because of her own experiences with her visions. “I've seen things, Cass. Well, not seen, not really. It's like my eyes are blindfolded and scenarios are built in my mind through sounds, sensations that I feel on my skin as I were touching things that I know are not really around,” the prince went on, trying to make sense of the overwhelming abstractions he sensed during those events.“I've had a few of those strange episodes since I began to try to quit the substance”.

And then she asked it, if it had been worth it. “It made all the difference,” he stated without an ounce of hesitation. The cost to pay had been high, but it would have been higher still to have lost gods knew how many more lives had Adam and his men not been able to cut through the Umber forces like they did. They planted inexplicable fear in the hearts of their opponents, they razed through the field of battle like unearthly creatures that needed no rest, protected true Northern men, women and children, and survived.

“But all of that is over. My son needs me to stop,” the lone wolf of House Stark admitted, managing more conviction in his voice than he had in all of their conversation. Hadrian had lost his mother already. He could not lose his father to a slow decay. “And I need your help, Cass. I need to learn what to do with these—,” he touched his temple, unable to find other words to describe the episodes he experienced. “Like you've learned how to handle better what you see”.

And just like that, an older brother let down his guard, his excuses, his fears, to ask his little sister for help in saving himself.

[adam-stark]

“Consider your attempt successful,” he replied with a nod, still somewhat amused by her very unusual yet very effective method. Adam had expected to gain some time alone earlier, though admittedly he didn't feel robbed in any way as he fortuitously ended up in the company of Naelys. Hers was a company he liked to keep, even if the occasions when that could happen were sporadic and far between. For the good bonds between Starks and Velaryons, it was a shame Winterfell and Driftmark were no closer together on the map.

“I like to think it would take more than a mere jeweled necklace to wound me. Cass would agree my head is thicker than that,” the prince uttered with a half-smile. He could nearly hear his sister's words mocking or chastising him. Out of the pack, his little sister had always been the one more willing to speak to him so openly, even to the detriment of his reason or pride.

The Velaryon lady stood in place and Adam Stark let the precious gem rest on her collarbone as he clasped the necklace's brooch, her precious jewelry back where it belonged. “There,” he murmured and took a step back, offering Nellie a smile. “Hello,” he echoed her words, a light-hearted tone present as they finally greeted.

“I am honored when I receive invitations to come,” he replied. It went beyond the expectations of a prince, or the commonalities that could exist between River folk and Northerners. There was something deeper about his connection to this land, as Naely's well knew. Returning to the land of Rivers oftentimes felt like paying respects to the dead, and a part of his soul resonated with that. “It is nice to see you and your family here”.

¿

it felt as though there was a weight that began to lift from her shoulders as she listened closely to his tone of voice, biting lightly on her lower lip in thought as she surveyed his facial expressions; he appeared to be speaking with her jokingly, and there was a slight smile on his face - which meant he probably was not doing anything too important. she began to indicate she would come down to pick up her own sapphire necklace, though within a swoop he had already bent down to pick it up as he called up to her.

"i was trying to get your attention…i knew not if you were with somebody, and i just blurted your name." she responded, half sheepish and apologetic as she spoke; and half dreamlike as she always uttered her words.

"i am glad it did not fall upon your head." and then suddenly he were climbing up the spiral staircases to the balcony she were stood at, and she began to make her way to the entrance of the terrace to meet him halfway, he held it by it's chain and indicated that he would slip it back on. nodding slightly, she spun on her heel and moved aside jet black dark hair for him to be able to drape it around her neck from the back.

"you know, even though it is small, it could have truly done some damage to your head. the speed of which it fell, and you are not wearing your helmet for there are no giants around." it was wrong to assume that naelys was shatteringly shy; but rather, she seemed to ramble when she did speak.

she remained as still as naelys velaryon could remain as he fiddled slightly with the chain, it seemed warriors were not the most skilled at the art of jewellery upon women. she toyed with a string that had come slightly undone from her deep violet and silver corset, a string between her thumb and her forefinger that she twisted, pulled and tugged at. she felt it finally clasp together, and let out a small sigh, a small smile crossing her features.

"hello." she spoke, looking at him for the first time in a long while. since the northern war, at least. she greeted him to start their conversation properly, rather than throwing a necklace down at him to get his attention. "i thought i would see you here." she implicitly spoke of adam's affinity for the land of rivers, and the significance it placed for him. he had left somebody very important behind here, some years ago.

[adam-stark]

A smile found its way to Adam's lips as well. His son was his pride in every way. He was a ray of hope, too, the tether that pulled him from the darkness. Had it not been for Hadrian, the prince wasn't sure he would have found the necessary drive to become worthy of him, to be the father the little boy deserved and not the shade he'd become during the war. Hadrian took after his mother in many ways, but he did have Adam's eyes. Sad eyes, some said when seeing Adam's gaze. He hoped his boy wouldn't take after him in that way.

“I am,” the lone wolf of House Stark finally said, a peaceful hum accompanying his words. “I am proud of him every day, and I hope I make him proud when he's old enough to start thinking about matters of family and the like”. The Northern prince glanced toward the Locke lady, grateful for her good wishes for his little son. He nodded in appreciation, paying a bit more attention to the young woman at his side.

“Are you feeling unwell, my lady?” he asked after a beat, his tone low enough, discreet, to ensure the exchange did not reach other ears and remained theirs alone. “Forgive me, I do not mean to pry. But if you require some rest, or a maester to tend to you, I could help arrange it”. It wasn't outright noticeable, he thought, but the lady did appear somewhat pale and had a subtle dazed look in her eye.

it had taken some time for feray to go to winterfell after the war. she was not sure where this apprehension had come from. she had felt it towards the starks, towards winterfell. maybe it was because house locke had always felt more removed from house stark due to their allegiance to house manderly and white harbor. but she had friends in winterfell, among the starks. after the journey from the westerlands, she had taken a larger dose of milk of the poppy to make up for the disrupted sleep. and hours later, she still felt rather loopy, as if she was caught in a space between sleep and being awake. but she had duties now that she could not shirk, so feray still got dressed for the day, prayed and went out to be among the nobles gathered.

after attending the feast, she had found a quiet spot in front of the fire, her eyes feeling heavy, when she heard the voice of one of the stark princes. “of course not, your highness.” feray's gaze dropped to the babe in his arms, and a slight smile crept its way to her lips. she had always been fond of children. it was why she had never doubted that she'd have her own one day, despite the warning of her old maester about the danger of it. “the little prince is beautiful. you must be very proud of him.” her dark eyes went to adam. this was yet another person who had known loss. “may the gods keep him safe.” after losing her brothers, feray's biggest fear was that death would come for others she loved. her parents, her friends. she still prayed each day for them to be protected, as if she spoke it out loud, it was enough to guard them.

[adam-stark]

Adam was a Northern man through and through, but sporadically, on nights like this one, he considered that if he had been born somewhere else, the Riverlands would have been the realm he'd liked to have called home. One could breathe a similar air of mysticism here, albeit less crisp, less wild than at home. The prince had spent time here during the war, healing. A part of him had stayed in the Riverlands too, when he had to bury Saga here.

He enjoyed this place more than any other realm when the lone wolf of House Stark had to ride away from the lands of winter. Litha, in particular, was a festival he enjoyed. The quiet side of it, at least, when one could watch dancing bonfires and sit by the banks of the Tumblestone River to write secret wishes and aching desires to burn in the sun wheels. He'd written his piece and had seen his thoughts burn as the flame ate the parchment whole.

The Commander of the Northern Kingsguard had witnessed the improvised performance and avoided dancing, heading out for some peace and quiet for a bit. That was when he heard the familiar voice of Naelys Velaryon and had one of her pretty jewels nearly hit his head. “Dropped something, Nellie?” he asked in a light-hearted manner before picking up the heavy necklace, the sapphire gleaming even in the night.

His brother and the Lord of Driftmark were still deep in conversation and would go on to be for more time, he was sure. “Aye, he is. They'll be talking long, I gathered”. Adam made a gesture then, indicating that he would join her on the balcony, and so he made his way there. A minute later, Adam Stark was next to the young lady that he once thought would be his wife. All of it years before the Moon of Winter called for his heart and he saw her die on the snow. Before he wed Elissa and lost her too. He was a grim portent of bad fortune, it seemed. It was Nellie's good luck she'd not linked herself to him, and so here she was, glowing and alive.

“Your necklace,” the lone wolf said, holding it up in a gesture that indicated he could clasp it back in place around her neck.

who: @adam-stark when and where: flashback, in the riverlands post the release of the sun wheels in the riverlands context: these two were once betrothed considering they are the second son and second daughter of house stark and house velaryon respectively. it ended up breaking off, though they remain on good terms.

a figure with jet black mid length hair seemed to blend easily in the surroundings of the night upon the balcony; as she seemed easily able to blend in any surroundings, something she no doubt much appreciated about herself. the endless navy stretch across her head blurred with the colour of her silks and her jewels, gliding onto a balcony following the release of the sunwheels.

or ginny's sunwheel, as she had ruined her own; there was a slight line above her forehead and her lips turned downward naturally at her thoughts.

something about ginny seemed to have changed, like the phases of the moon; and she did not like thinking such things about her friends. but something, felt different; the talk of wanting more, of power - it did more than simply worry her, it unsettled her. she had seen what happened to those who allowed ambition to become their hamartia.

it was only when she heard the footsteps directly below her from where she stood on the balcony did she shift her amethyst gaze downward, half contemplating on what the gods had bestowed to be her own hamartia, half wondering who that would be. and then the candlelight fell across half of the man's face, and she leaned forward slightly upon the balcony, her arms resting upon it.

"adam?" she called, suddenly incredibly self aware and so her voice came somewhat halfheartedly - she had not even thought if he were with someone, or if he had somewhere else to be. she waved the sleeve of her lace slightly, as though to try and get his attention in the night. what good was waving navy silk in the dark of the night? and so, as though it were the best thing to do, she unclasped a sapphire necklace from around her neck and dropped it directly beside him - narrowly missing his head.

when he looked up, she caught his gaze and raised her palm, offering a small wave from her spot atop the balcony. "is deimos still in there with your brother?" she pointed back toward the bustling feasting hall. she found owen stark incredibly loud, and whilst he were nice enough, his casual volume and roaring laugh admittedly overwhelmed her and burned all the embers she had left for socialising.

[adam-stark]

Closed starter for @feraylocke Setting: After the return from the Westerlands Adam was reunited with his young son, Hadrian, who stayed behind with his late mother's family in Barrowton during the prince's absence. With the return to their homeland, the Northern court gathers in Winterfell.

The feast had ended, and there were some of the lords and ladies of the North who remained in the great hall to converse with each other, to simply enjoy the fact that they were back home. Hadrian's nurse brought the boy to his father then and the Northern prince relished carrying his boy to make up for all the times he missed the opportunity to do while in the West.

Adam moved closer to the fireplace, sitting before the welcoming hearth as he pulled his cloak around his son's small body to ensure he was warm and cozy. Hadrian was already blinking more slowly, leaning against his chest with evident signs that he was ready to begin dozing off.

“I hope we do not intrude your peace and quiet, Lady Locke,” the prince said, for he acknowledged that the Lady of Oldcastle had been sitting all by herself before the dancing flames, perhaps soothed or distracted by them.

[adam-stark]

His brow furrowed at her response. It was an odd thing for the princess to abandon her station as Ruling Lady of the Twins and come back to her family home without notice. His initial concern brought an unpleasant sensation to his stomach. “Did something happen between you and Lord Frey?” he inquired quietly, holding her hands somewhat tighter. Are you unsafe? Did he harm you? Those were the questions interlaced with what he had actually said out loud.

From what Cyrene had confided in him through their letters over the last few years and Adam's own experiences with Lord Frey, he had formed a judgment about the lord that was most unfavorable. He did not trust the man in any capacity, not even to ensure the princess would be safe and unharmed within the halls of her own keep in the Riverlands.

“Apologies that I have no compliments to offer to your lord husband,” he answered with a subtle scoff. Though Adam usually reserved his thoughts on the man for a time in which he could speak them, rather than leave a trace of them on letters. “Did Mako and Wylla travel with you?” he asked then, for he relished the opportunities to see his young nephew and niece. Despite bearing the name of a man Adam didn't particularly like, they were Starks by blood and his care for Cyrene extended to her children as well.

It had been most unexpected to find Cyrene here in Winterfell without a prior word of her arrival, and it was without a doubt a very welcome surprise. “Gods, it is good to see you, sister,” the prince said after a moment, offering his sister a smile before going ahead to pull Cyrene close for a warm embrace.

The sound of footsteps on the snow announced that they were no longer alone. Adam pulled away and turned back to see who approached. The soft expression on his face remained, for the pack was gathering in the godswood on this day, it seemed.

It was true, they had never been quite close. As children, Cyrene had chased the thrill while Adam had remained in his lonesome. She had run away from boredom, while Adam had welcomed the security of it.

The war had come, the fire had come, and Cyrene had grown into a woman. A woman who stood alone, walls of ice grown between those she had held close and those she had not. The dragons had danced and Adam had grown into a man. A good man. A protector.

With every letter she penned, with every one she received, every visit he payed her at the Twins, she'd felt a gnawing sort of guilt take hold in her chest. She had never been fair to him. It was just like time, allowing her to realize how wrong she had been about her very own brother.

Her fingers tightened around his. Warmth meeting warmth among familiar cold. "I told no one," she admitted, a glimmer of mischief dancing within her eyes. "Well, other than all those who traveled with me." Adam's eyes were searching hers, roving over her every expression, her demeanor. "And my husband." She made a point out of telling him. This had been agreed upon. Even if in her very depth, she despised having to gain permission for anything from anyone.

"In a way, I suppose, I am glad you did not answer my letter," she spoke, a slow smile spreading on her lips. "It would not have reached me in time. And gods know what you might have written in those letters. I can imagine Lord Frey being quite affronted."

[adam-stark]

( tw: mention of drug use )

Adam looked at his younger sister in silence. She spoke of quitting the substance and ensuring he didn't take it again as if it was something that had not crossed his mind already. Thinking about stopping and actually being able to do it were different matters. The Stark prince had prided himself on being a determined man before, but sheer determination wasn't enough when something inside urged him to take another dose.

“Owen knows,” he admitted plainly. Owen sanctioned it, he thought but didn't say it. Their brother only agreed to have Adam and his men take the substance for the war once the prince had already tried it for himself. And so he did not want to have Cass' pent-up anger be aimed toward their eldest brother for a misleading reason. “I can barely last two days without feeling like my mind is shattering,” the Commander replied. There were things he was saying and things he kept to himself, for it was much too complex to detail every little symptom the withdrawal could bring. But this element in particular —the effect on the mind— was something he wished to bring out with Cassana because of her own experiences with her visions. “I've seen things, Cass. Well, not seen, not really. It's like my eyes are blindfolded and scenarios are built in my mind through sounds, sensations that I feel on my skin as I were touching things that I know are not really around,” the prince went on, trying to make sense of the overwhelming abstractions he sensed during those events.“I've had a few of those strange episodes since I began to try to quit the substance”.

And then she asked it, if it had been worth it. “It made all the difference,” he stated without an ounce of hesitation. The cost to pay had been high, but it would have been higher still to have lost gods knew how many more lives had Adam and his men not been able to cut through the Umber forces like they did. They planted inexplicable fear in the hearts of their opponents, they razed through the field of battle like unearthly creatures that needed no rest, protected true Northern men, women and children, and survived.

“But all of that is over. My son needs me to stop,” the lone wolf of House Stark admitted, managing more conviction in his voice than he had in all of their conversation. Hadrian had lost his mother already. He could not lose his father to a slow decay. “And I need your help, Cass. I need to learn what to do with these—,” he touched his temple, unable to find other words to describe the episodes he experienced. “Like you've learned how to handle better what you see”.

And just like that, an older brother let down his guard, his excuses, his fears, to ask his little sister for help in saving himself.

.

something gnawed at her—a fierce, unrelenting urge to fight. it simmered in the back of her mind, a voice whispering, urging her to snap, to lash out at all of them. but most of all, at adam. the guilt was there, a constant thorn in her heart, but she knew she had to push it aside, bury it deep for the moment. sooner or later, she was bound to say something she would regret, but right now, she couldn’t stop the torrent of words that spilled from her lips.

the youngest stark forced herself to drop one of the argument, at least for now, and focus on what mattered more—the small, unassuming bag in front of her. whatever this was, it had taken a grip on her brother, sinking its claws into him. "then we need to find a way to make sure you don’t have to take this anymore." she said, her voice low and steady, though her eyes were anything but calm. they burned with a mix of anger and worry as she looked at him. "you can’t be reliant on this, adam. it was foolish to take it in the first place."

for a moment, she considered tossing the bag back to him, letting him deal with the consequences of his choices. she couldn't do that. couldn't do that to adam. but instead, she purposefully held it back, clutching it tightly as if it were a lifeline to keep from him. she doubted this was all he had, though. she was sure there was more hidden somewhere.

"does owen know? dacey? anyone else?" she pressed, needing to know who else was aware of this. it would be important for them to understand, to figure out a way to put an end to this even if they might share her anger. "how long have you gone without it?" she asked, her voice softening as she opened the bag slightly, peering inside. the anger still roiled within her, a storm not yet spent, but it was tempered by her worry, by the desperate need to help, even if she wanted to punch him out at the same time.

"did it really make that much of a difference on the battlefield?" she asked, the question heavy with both skepticism and concern. her eyes searched his, hoping to find some semblance of the brother she knew beneath the layers of guilt and desperation.

[adam-stark]

It was true that Cyrene and Adam had never gravitated much toward each other as children, not even much in their teens either. But a lone wolf in the Northern woods and a solitary creature surrounded by rivers somehow found companionship. Gods knew what led Adam's quill to pen that initial letter to his distant sister, but he was glad he'd done it. Perhaps one lonely soul recognized another, even in the distance.

If there was one thing he wished his sister knew without a shadow of a doubt as she grew into her position of Lady Frey, it was that she would continue to have a protector in Adam. He'd found that place within his family eventually: A protector. Their protector. He vowed to wield his sword and shield for Cyrene as well, especially as she grew away from the rest of them. One stern look from the prince on that first visit was all it took for her husband to know Cyrene did not stand alone.

“Sister,” the Commander said, entirely caught off guard to see Cyrene in Winterfell. Hearing her voice, rather than imagining its sound when reading her letters, was a most pleasant surprise.

“When did you arrive? Apologies, I was at Moat Cailin 'til yesterday evening. I did not hear any news that you would be coming,” the prince said as he approached Cyrene, going ahead to hold both of her hands in his. Had she sent news, he wondered? He paid attention to her demeanor, her voice, trying to detect any clues as to whether she'd come here gladly, or due to some potential tension or hostility from her husband. “I meant to answer to your letter soon. Words still not come as easily to me as they do you, sister,” Adam admitted. Even after all these years, he didn't go about writing back fluidly or with ease. He still took some time and a lot of thoughtful care when replying to Cyrene's letters.

who: @adam-stark where: the godswood in winterfell

Crisp snow crunched beneath her shoes as she walked. One foot in front of the other. This Cyrene left behind marks. This Cyrene strode across the freshly fallen snow without apology, without worry for consequence. The Cyrene she'd left behind in the Riverlands had been nothing but attuned to consequence. Toying the lying between appropriate and inappropriate like it was a game, specifically invented rules to be broken.

Her destination this time? Prince Adam Stark. Someone she had never been quite close to as a child. Too broody for her taste, too little risk taken, too much caution and too much of a loner.

Ironic, perhaps, that they had only began to grow close once they shared letters as Cyrene had already been sent away. Strange, that Adam had been the one to make the journey all the way to the Twins to make sure Cyrene was safe.

"Your response to my last letter has been sorely missed," amusement shone freely through her words. She was not overly bothered by it. But she tingled in anticipation to her brother's reaction at his eldest sister being home once more.

[adam-stark]

Not even in the wintry lands he called home had Adam Stark encountered someone as icy as the Queen of the Vale. It was eerie, in a way. She conducted herself in a way that appeared more like the practice of humanity, rather than a natural, genuine way of moving about the world. Her own sister was treated as just someone who died and had been buried, so the prince could be certain the queen thought even less of so many others around her.

In a way, he was glad Rosa had lived her last years in the North and had died a Northern queen. Even if Owen did not love his wife, it surely was more than what her siblings might have offered.

His intention to offer condolences had been carried out, even if to a woman who clearly cared not for them. Anything else there was to be discussed between the Vale Queen and the Northern Prince ought to happen in the presence of his brother, and so Adam Stark stopped in his tracks once they entered the keep of Winterfell. “If I wanted to ask a question, I would have asked it, your grace,” the Prince of the North stated, offering a polite nod and letting his steps guide him in a different direction than Ravella's.

♟

"i care not for what you meant, your highness." her words came in response, again as though she were coded to do so; something robotic and empty in her words, her actions. there was no hint of actual feeling within her words, any feeling of ire or anger at what she had perceived as this disrespect - it were as though she spoke of civility, rather than anything with depth.

she missed the slight look of confusion the prince of winterfell gave in her direction, a look of genuine intrigue as to what exactly was wrong with this woman; she continued to look ahead, not bothering to even engage in eye contact during their conversation.

still, his sentimental words of rosalyn being loved, cherished and respected within the stark family were enough to paint the hints of cold smile to cross over lips of ruby red - and perhaps for a moment it was genuine, to know her sister had a place where she had found some relative peace. "i am sure she felt it whilst she lived." but, she also knew rosalyn enough to know there would have been an ache in her heart knowing her husband did not have love for her - ravella knew what man appeared as when they loved a woman. this was not it.

meaning, should anyone come across the king of winter that captures his eye, she could easily feel the association of the vale and the north slip through her fingers. "soon there will be reason for you all to venture to the vale in great celebration." because why would owen stark decline her offer to extend his lands? "once the work is finished." she could deal with the rebels in the sisters, give away land that was cancerous to them, and ensure they remained the closest ally of the north - all at once. she caught him looking at her again, and only looked back at him now, her gaze hardening.

"yes?" she asked, coming to a pause once they reached the main halls of winterfell's keep; she felt the warmth in the air, no doubt from the thermal springs winterfell was built over. "you look at me as though you want to ask me a question. ask me."