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[ellievswann]

.

ellie’s time spent at driftmark was often without her husband at her side. it felt strange for a newly married couple to spend so much time apart but that was the way the dice had rolled for them. their marriage life was quickly interrupted by a call to arms against the pirates of the stepstones who were threatening the seas. even in the short time she had gotten to spend with her husband she understood his deep understanding of duty and the call of the sea that pulled at him.

since her husband was away most of the time it meant that she spent most of her time with her good siblings. and aerea was someone that ellie always found so fascinating. it seemed in many ways they were similar in mind. and ellie enjoyed getting to talk with her throughout the days. they were often meaningful discussions and not full of nonsense or utter fluff that some lords and ladies shared together. talking about the weather and how divine this party was. it was nice just to talk.

as she beheld her former sister-in-law, a rush of conflicting emotions surged within ellie. had circumstances unfolded differently, she might still be referred to as her good sister. having recently shed her mourning attire, ellie couldn't help but question whether the velaryons had moved on, or if her presence lingered as a distant memory in their minds. she wouldnt blame them if she was.

"please, there's no need for formalities," ellie gently interjected, her smile imbued with a bittersweet nostalgia. "we were once good sisters. you called me ellie then; you can call me ellie now." her gaze softened as she regarded the thoughtful offerings brought before her. "your gesture is truly kind," she remarked, a genuine warmth infusing her words. "i really am so happy to see you. we've missed so many opportunities to reconnect." with a welcoming gesture, she invited her former sister-in-law to join her at a quaint table adorned with tea and food.

The Velaryons seemed exceptionally good at dying. When her oldest brother passed away, he left behind a widow, left behind at Driftmark with the other women. Aerea had long since lost her dragon by then, and unable to join battle in a meaningful way, had been left behind to make of life what she would. And then the war had ended, but by then what was done was done. Her brother's wife was made a widow and left Driftmark, and Aerea had been so sunk within herself that she had not even said goodbye. 

Aerea held no ill will towards Ellie, though she could also have been friendlier. With the coronation over and her continued presence in King's Landing, it was time to pay a visit to the woman who had once been family, even if it was not by blood. Ellie's brother was Hand now; altruism was not the entirety of Aerea's motivation. Continuing Velaryon interests was a larger part of it than she was willing to admit. 

That day she came bearing gifts as she awaited entrance to Ellie's rooms. A bottle of perfume scented like the little flowers that grew on Driftmark, with an undercurrent of the sea air. Wine of some vintage, expected when greeting another. Little, inconsequential things. The perfume had been Aerea's idea, but the wine she let someone else choose. 

"Lady Swann, I come with gifts. It has been too long since we have talked."  @ellievswann

[ellievswann]

location: a small gathering of lords and ladies in the crownlands. a few nights after all the other kingshamds departed home.

@vlxyrianclaws

there was a certain shield that draped around those wore the widow's black, a veil of reverence that seemed to cloak them. it afforded them a quiet dignity, a respectful distance that others instinctively observed unless they were invited in. and amidst the throngs of guests gathered for the coronation, this aura of mourning lent a sense of sanctuary for ellie. a way to keep those unwanted at bay but allow those whom she wished to see a way to speak with her. but as the days wore on and the time for mourning drew to a close, there came a bittersweet moment during the coronation celebration when the widow's garments were exchanged for attire more befitting the living. but part of her didn’t mind, it felt nice to once again feel like herself and not just the sorrowed widow.

and now she was here at this gathering in her normal attire for the first time in many months. it was something to get used to once again.

out of all the guests at the party there was one who caused the most turmoil within her. and of course he was the one who was walking towards her. ellie breathed a silent curse under her breath as she caught sight of the approaching figure, a presence she would have gladly avoided if given the chance. he was the last person she wished to engage with on this night—or any other, for that matter. yet, despite the overwhelming thoughts of protests echoing in her mind, she found herself unable to resist his pull. there was something about him that defied explanation, an enigmatic allure that drew her in despite her better judgment. a moth to a flame is what she felt like.

 as much as she would roll her eyes or throw his jeers and jabs back at him she hadnt found the strength to simple ignore him.

maybe it was because he never bored her.

"lord celtigar," she greeted him with a curt nod as he approached, her tone betraying a hint of intrigue. "i assume you have something you wish to speak to me about. i doubt you are over here to ask me if i am enjoying my night.”

[ellievswann]

.

suddenly ellie was very thankful for all the high valyrian lessons her mother insisted on her taking. if they were going to be in the court of the dragons then she needed to know how to speak their language. and with her previous marriage to a velaryon it proved very useful. she listened carefully to the young princes' words. he spoke quickly but she was able to understand most of what he was saying

"a warlock?" she answered back in high valyrian, confused as to where they were and who that man wa. but she took the letter from the prince and read allowed the words in common incase there was anyone here who did not speak high valyrian.

"drink me to get the freedom you seek"

ellie's looked towards her brother and then to the cups. "do we know even what this is? what if it is poisoned? the prince said the man was a warlock"

@mourningblood

|The Details:

The drink in the room, possibly unknown to the people in the room, is Shade of the Evening, is a thick, blue liquid consumed by the warlocks of Qarth. It is called "the wine of warlocks", but it is made from the inky blue leaves that grow on the black-barked trees found around the House of the Undying. This means warlocks are involved. Shade of the evening is deep blue and viscous, flowing like honey. It has an unappetizing smell and initial taste, having been compared to ink, spoiled meat, and rotten flesh, but upon swallowing tastes like all things its imbiber has ever tasted, and more. (Canon example: The first sip tasted like ink and spoiled meat, foul, but when she swallowed it seemed to come to life within her. She could feel tendrils spreading through her chest, like fingers of fire coiling around her heart, and on her tongue was a taste like honey and anise and cream, like mother's milk and Drogo's seed, like red meat and hot blood and molten gold. It was all the tastes she had ever known, and none of them … and then the glass was empty. ) Now because they are not in the house of the Undying there will be some magical shenanigans happening to change the room around, everyone will perhaps see a series of things the others can not, but the room itself wont be like the scene with dany where she's going down the hall through the many doors.

| @ellievswann @mourningblood @bloodfcrblood @nadiaestermont tag the others when they post |

"There is something wrong." Viserys spoke in High Valyrian as he stared at thee drinnk before them on the table. Why did he follow that man? Why lead these people? There was danger. It was all around them. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, fear settled into pale purple eyes as he turned to face those with him. Prince. What would a Prince do? He did not know. He could barely think with the splitting headache.

"Very very wrong." He said again, the boy with the strange accent speaking an old tongue as if it were the only language he'd ever known. They would have to drink or they would die here. That much he knew.

"That man. He smelled like a warlock." He expected they all knew High Valyrian. Right?

"You understand me?" He asked before he turned to fill the cups. "Read this to them." He held out the letter for whoever stood closest. "We must drink. It's the only way."

[ellievswann]

.

a subtle roll of her eyes accompanied her response, her words delivered with an air of complete contempt for the man before her. "oh come now, lord celtigar. let's not twist how this went. you approached me to speak. i do not think that was very desperate of me. politeness drove me to continue the conversation, not simply walking away from you—a mistake i will have to learn from."

boredom was a constant companion. a curse for her waking mind, her mother's warning echoing in her mind. a mind hungry for more, perpetually seeking novelty. why sit idle when the world offered a myriad of experiences? experiences however she was often kept from. boredom was a curse of her mind, her mother told her. a mind that yearned for more, wanted more but there was never enough to do or see for her. why sit around when that was just so terribly boring. sure she enjoyed the company of the other ladies in the court, but sitting discussing what party to do next was boring after a time. the men were not much better, bragging and boasting about their conquests of an old war. it was all just…boring.

she knew she should be content with her marriage to such an influential man. but it was hard to be content in a marriage when she barely got to spend any time with him at all. it felt like weeks after their marriage was set her husband was called away to the sea. he was a sailor afterall in the deepest parts of his soul despite the title of his family. the burden of a sailors wife to know the sea would always call their husbands back to them. a siren song they could not resist.

as weeks passed with her husband at sea, boredom became her unwelcome companion

was that why she stayed around to talk with a man who bothered her so much? who insulted her every chance he could get. who had beaten her brother so severely. a man who’s arrogance fell off of him in waves. a man who seemed to look at her and understand her on a level she did not know possible. the rare moment of a smile on his face was so intriguing she couldnt explain it.

no, she couldn’t dare but think of him in any other way. no regrets lingered as she moved to slap him. in a swift motion, he caught her wrist. time stretched as he pulled her closer, minutes were an hour or more maybe. she had no idea. the echo of her breath filling the charged space between them. cruel words formed on his lips, yet she found herself speechless, her hand captured by his.

"lord celtigar..." she stammered, her voice trailing off as he released her wrist. a blush adorned her cheeks, a mix of anger and an inexplicable vulnerability under his intense gaze. moments hung in suspension as they stood close, the air charged with an unspoken tension.a moment of something…else. something that stirred deep in her very being. she have expected the man to rush at her again but this time for a completely different purpose.  her expectation shifted from aggression to something entirely different.

"good day, lord celtigar," she managed, straightening herself before gracefully exiting. the intensity of the encounter lingered, leaving her with a sense of exposure and a stirring within—a strange cocktail of emotions that demanded distance before anger resurfaced, unsure if she would strike again or unleash something far more profound.

mxc.

there came a set of skills, in knowing how best to get to people: to truly get under their skin, and result in them feeling a growing sense of anger and emptiness following the conversation, laced with regrets as to what else was not said. what else could have been said. elenda swann was of no particular importance to maximus celtigar, regardless of how much she attempted to adorn herself in the finery of the valyrian name of house velaryon and pretend to be something she so clearly was not. "and yet here you were, desperate to talk to a cad, and a brute."

she had none of the attitude of a valyrian woman, considering she appeared bored with her newlyfound status post marriage rather than content with having to do nothing. such was the reality when one married gods, and yet alas, it seemed as though some would forever want to continue playing in the mud or milking cows or whatever it was stormlanders did. she appeared continuously restless, often found wondering in the hallways of the red keep, attempting to find herself useful in some way or another, even if it were simply transporting archives and ledgers. no better than a maid.

anger would not work at making elenda swan feel degraded. no, considering it appeared she had much of a mouth on her: instead, it was the feeling of inferiority that she'd never be able to scrub off her. in a court full of valyrian women, knowing she would never be one, despite how much she drank or spent time with them. "of course you are, look at all the sophisticated vocabulary you are using." he spoke, his tone laced with scathing sarcasm as a cold, dismissive laugh came directly in her face.

and when her hand came to strike him, a rare insight to the wilderness that was the stormlanders and how they no doubt needed to be tamed, his laughter seemed to only continue as his hand moved to grab a hold of her wrist. "and so the animal can kick and claw, look at you." there had been an impact on his cheek, and yet, it were obvious the man had no qualms with using violence to restrain. he pulled her forward, using his force to yank her with force than to press down hard on her wrist itself. the last thing he needed to do was leave a bruise.

"do you truly believe i would not be willing to deal with the fall out of striking you happily in the face?" he asked, his tone switching: the scathing element remained, but there was not an inch of him that remained joking. there was no mirth on his fac,e even a cruel mirth. "only one of us is replaceable." and then he lowered his voice, releasing his hand from her wrist whilst maintaining a dark, chaotic gaze upon her. "you need to do something for me, ellie swann. you'll listen closely, and then you'll open your mouth and tell your brother the next time i see him may well be the last time he sees anything."

he noted how dark and stormy her own orbs were; more complicated than the naive, warm orbs of her brother. for a moment, there came another urge that swept over him: the urge to grab hold of her and feel her legs around him as they smashed into the wall behind them. he wanted to hear just how proper she could be, or whether she truly was just like all the others. perhaps there was also the sickening urge to get to wylliam swann in a way he felt as thoug he had been insulted. his sisters were not whores, but this woman? well. "you'll do that for me. i know of your good memory. ensure he remembers too."

[ellievswann]

.

ellie's departure from driftmark carried an air of uncertainty. none of the velayrons were ever outwardly rude to her, or had much to say on her marriage but she was not sure she ever felt totally at home. it was her husband who had extended the warmth, albeit briefly. ellie olingered a  short time more in driftmark after the passing of her husband. she wanted to ensure she was there when he was brought back home and properly put to rest. the rest of the time was waiting to ensure she had not been blesses with a child. when that was sorted out ellie was sent on her way.r.

in the realm of widows, ellie now found herself. the turmoil of war had unleashed a wave of young brides into this unfamiliar territory, their sails set adrift with no compass. she was determined not to flounder. after time there would be another match, another semblance of stability. that was her goal. but for now, she embraced the serenity that the somber attire of widowhood offered.

"yes, stonehelm, your grace," she responded, noticing a potential gap in the new king's knowledge of stormland families. he held the wellbeing of both kingdoms in his hands and it was crucial held the same level of fairness for both crownlanders and stormlanders alike. will, she thought, might need to offer some guidance. that would be his new role now.

 “it would be an honor to be a lady in waiting to our new queen, thank you your grace.” she said, with a genuine smile as it was an honor. it was an opportunity she hadn't been granted by the previous queen, perhaps owing to her origins. now, rejoining the court and shedding the seclusion of stonehelm was a prospect she relished.

"my parents instilled in us a profound devotion to the seven. there are so many who flee from it in time of war, it is really a shame." she shared, her fingers instinctively finding the small, seven-pointed star adorning her necklace. while her faith often resonated in quietude rather than fervor, ellie's belief remained steadfast. she silently thanked her stars that her husband didn't follow the ancient valyrian doctrines some of his lineage were known to uphold.

"your grace, you've already bestowed upon me so much...i do not know else there is to ask for. i thank you for your kindness. would there be anything you wish to ask of me?"

ellievswann​:.

in the embrace of mourning, ellie found herself a curious mourner for a man she had barely gotten to know. not in any way was he a bad man. he had become a distant but gentle presence—never imposing, never contentious. a man who bestowed kindness in the moments he graced the halls of driftmark, though his days were often claimed by pursuits beyond its walls. a kind soul, a good man—that was what he was, what he had left behind.

“your grace,” her voice carried a subdued reverence, head bowed in acknowledgment of the king, a graceful curtsey followed.  in truth she did not see much of their new king before but she had heard of his close relationship with her brother. rumors of his proximity to her brother, their shared camaraderie, lingered in her mind, weaving through the corridors of speculation. but she never got much of a chance to meet him. there has been talks of ellie becoming a lady in waiting for their former queen, but the discussions never went very far. she doubted the queen trusted her enough to allow her in a position so close to her. she did not take offense to it knowing of the tensions between the two kingdoms. but jae was different it seemed at least he seemed to seek out approval of the stormland lords. he had many of them at his side, her brother was his own hand of the king. foolish as it may be she found herself willingly weaving trust into this new chapter of the realm.

“that is most kind of you to say, your grace.” ellie said, ready to play out this conversation as she had so many times since the news had reached her. almost numb to it by now, numb to the feelings of sadness of wondering what could have been. she never wished ill on her husband, never wanted to see him dead. she had only wished for him to be home with her more. this was never what she wanted. “he was a good man, he will be missed by me and by many more.”

her conversation flowed onward, his inquiry delving into the elevation of her brother, the stormlands’ proud and capable hand of the king. “i heard the news of my brother’s promotion to hand of the king. truly you have bestowed a great honor on the swann household. i have always believed my brother to be one of the smartest men in all of the kingdoms. a good man.” truthful will was one of the best. a rare person with a heart of good intentions in a cruel world that seeked to spread corruption in its path. will never strayed from convictions. it was exactly what a good king needed to have by their side “he will serve you well as hand of the king,” she declared with conviction, the words carrying the weight of her unwavering faith.

“my place has always been with my family and the stormlands and now with you as our new king” her voice rose with unshakable fidelity, an indomitable pledge of loyalty offered with unwavering eyes. “i would be honored to stay at court alongside my brother,” her voice, steady as a mountain stream in their lands, held no hesitation. “ i hope i may prove myself useful as time continues.” not that their previous queen ever found any place for ellie in her court. she could be useful if someone opened their eyes and saw her, saw her brains. her smarts. part of her doubted the king would do anything with it, maybe if will spoke of her talents. but…she did not put much faith in the idea. the prospect of proving herself, of manifesting the dormant talents she harbored, lingered in her aspirations—a beacon of potential, waiting to be embraced.

clad in the black garb of a widow, ellie found herself at a crossroads between past and present. it was in the embrace of faith that she sought solace. “i have always found my strength and comforts with the gods, as we all should. i have heard word you are a godly man, your grace. i am happy to see someone on the iron thrones who respects the will and wishes of the gods” her words an offering, a potential sentiment shared between a godly king and a lady whose convictions were equally aligned.

.

She talked a lot. So many words coming out of the mouth of a woman who seemingly had nothing to say and yet she didn’t know when to stop and when to be quiet. He nodded his head, listening to her as she went on and on. Jaehaerys mocked his dead cousin for his ugly wife but he supposed she wasn’t as ugly as he thought she from a distance. Still, the coloring her was all wrong. She had too much of the Stormlander blood and much like those Baratheon, genes like that could effect the look of his children.

“It is nice to know you care so much for your family and your place among them and I’m sure you will be returning home to,” He paused for a moment and then snapped his fingers, “Stonehelm. And if there’s little room for there then you are welcome to come here and take your place as a lady in waiting once you have completed your mourning period.”  

Jaehaerys didn’t know how she could be useful in his court. Where he felt a strong influence from his grandmother and believed women to be useful beyond the bedroom, though he didn’t know if she would be of use. It wasn’t the job of a King to make use of his the ladies waiting on his Queen, he was neither his father nor his grandsire. They would remain the problem of his wife. Reaching out he grabbed his quill and scribbled a note across the page to make sure to discuss with his wife. He wanted her ladies to be from the Crownlands. Stormlands, and then wherever she chose as long as it proved useful. They were building a dynasty to last through the ages, something his predecessors would have never been able to accomplished.

“The Gods will be felt throughout my realm. And I’m glad to hear you are a woman of the Gods for I had no idea.” And he didn’t, he was under the false impression most of the Stormlanders followed tree gods. Which he wouldn’t have.

“What do you have a need for, my lady? As your King and kin I’m here to see life easier for us all.”

[ellievswann]

Sai Bennett as Mary Tudor in The Spanish Princess (2020)

[ellievswann]

.

in the embrace of mourning, ellie found herself a curious mourner for a man she had barely gotten to know. not in any way was he a bad man. he had become a distant but gentle presence—never imposing, never contentious. a man who bestowed kindness in the moments he graced the halls of driftmark, though his days were often claimed by pursuits beyond its walls. a kind soul, a good man—that was what he was, what he had left behind.

"your grace," her voice carried a subdued reverence, head bowed in acknowledgment of the king, a graceful curtsey followed.  in truth she did not see much of their new king before but she had heard of his close relationship with her brother. rumors of his proximity to her brother, their shared camaraderie, lingered in her mind, weaving through the corridors of speculation. but she never got much of a chance to meet him. there has been talks of ellie becoming a lady in waiting for their former queen, but the discussions never went very far. she doubted the queen trusted her enough to allow her in a position so close to her. she did not take offense to it knowing of the tensions between the two kingdoms. but jae was different it seemed at least he seemed to seek out approval of the stormland lords. he had many of them at his side, her brother was his own hand of the king. foolish as it may be she found herself willingly weaving trust into this new chapter of the realm.

“that is most kind of you to say, your grace.” ellie said, ready to play out this conversation as she had so many times since the news had reached her. almost numb to it by now, numb to the feelings of sadness of wondering what could have been. she never wished ill on her husband, never wanted to see him dead. she had only wished for him to be home with her more. this was never what she wanted. “he was a good man, he will be missed by me and by many more.”

her conversation flowed onward, his inquiry delving into the elevation of her brother, the stormlands' proud and capable hand of the king. “i heard the news of my brother’s promotion to hand of the king. truly you have bestowed a great honor on the swann household. i have always believed my brother to be one of the smartest men in all of the kingdoms. a good man.” truthful will was one of the best. a rare person with a heart of good intentions in a cruel world that seeked to spread corruption in its path. will never strayed from convictions. it was exactly what a good king needed to have by their side "he will serve you well as hand of the king," she declared with conviction, the words carrying the weight of her unwavering faith.

"my place has always been with my family and the stormlands and now with you as our new king" her voice rose with unshakable fidelity, an indomitable pledge of loyalty offered with unwavering eyes. "i would be honored to stay at court alongside my brother," her voice, steady as a mountain stream in their lands, held no hesitation. “ i hope i may prove myself useful as time continues.” not that their previous queen ever found any place for ellie in her court. she could be useful if someone opened their eyes and saw her, saw her brains. her smarts. part of her doubted the king would do anything with it, maybe if will spoke of her talents. but…she did not put much faith in the idea. the prospect of proving herself, of manifesting the dormant talents she harbored, lingered in her aspirations—a beacon of potential, waiting to be embraced.

clad in the black garb of a widow, ellie found herself at a crossroads between past and present. it was in the embrace of faith that she sought solace. “i have always found my strength and comforts with the gods, as we all should. i have heard word you are a godly man, your grace. i am happy to see someone on the iron thrones who respects the will and wishes of the gods” her words an offering, a potential sentiment shared between a godly king and a lady whose convictions were equally aligned.

| @ellievswann | | setting :: jaehaerys meets with ellie swann to discuss her alliances

“I am overwhelmed with grief at the death of your husband.”

The King’s tone didn’t register grief, he would fairy say he didn’t give it his all when speaking to her. Most people would find farce in an emotional display from the King and the man didn’t have the time to put out these displays. It was better to speak with people directly, thoroughly. Acknowledge their losses and offer some condolences where some were meant to be found.

“He was a great sailor; a fighter of outstanding caliber and men were honored to fight alongside him.”

The King ran over things in his head, circled through the many thoughts bouncing around in his head. He offered his condolences along with an offer of compliment. It was over. They weren’t meeting on even footing. She no longer held ties to his family, though, he wanted the Velaryons close to him. Close to court. He wanted to be able to watch them. Jaehaerys didn’t necessarily wish them ill, he didn’t fully mistrust them. They remained family and they made their choice, a choice that once benefitted them and now those days were over. He was the new choice, the new king, the rightful King.

“Where do you stand? Your brother is Hand of the King and I would say your best choice to stand with me, the best choice is to stand alongside us. You were once kin by law and through the approval of the Gods. I want you to stay here, at court, with us. You may come and go when your brother travels for it is unwise for women to travel alone. And while you are here you will be treated as the Lady you are as long as you conduct yourself like a lady who lives for and through the Gods. Mourning, widowhood will be difficult. During my time in the Starry I witnessed many widows who grieved the men called home by the Mother.”

“Will you stay?”

[ellievswann]

.

the tendrils of loneliness had woven themselves deep within ellie's soul over the passage of months. her husband was not supposed to be gone this long and was supposed to be back at her side. yet he still felt like a stranger to her. he practically was in many sense and now word had completely stopped from him. despite the persistent uncertainty, the island of driftmark clung to their hope, their collective gaze tracing the ethereal line where the sea met the sky. but, a secondary yearning towards ellie—whispers echoed, hoping that the absent lord had bestowed upon ellie a child, a beacon of life amidst the shadows of absence.

maybe that loneliness was why she entertaining this conversation in the first place. was she desperately seeking something out? conversation? connection? something. there was something she craved, something missing, something she wanted. she could not explain it. could not understand what it was. and how in the hells was she supposed to find it in a man like max? the more he spoke down to her the more she regretted responding back to him. she was ready to leave and go back to her empty bedchambers

"yes, i am smart," the retort sprung from her lips, a swift riposte. the conversation's meaning seemed to disintegrate into the growing void of annoyance. it was a dance with no rhythm, a tune that had lost its melody. frustration simmered—fierce enough to provoke an almost primal urge to lash out, to grasp him by the collar and dig her nails into his neck. alas, the confines of ladyship, of courtly conventions, denied her that release. her battlefield was the arena of words, each phrase a finely honed weapon.

yet, it was elenda who bore the full brunt of max's brazen rhetoric. for a fleeting moment, the weight of his words paralyzed her—a frozen reverie beneath his judgment. a whore, he had dared to label her, those two syllables heavy with venom. his audacity, his quickness to deploy such derogatory language, struck her with the force of a slap. the fire of anger surged forth, quelling the momentary paralysis.

"lord celtigar, be wary of your tongue, for it flirts with the precipice of insolence," she surged up from her seat, the veneer of silence shattered. her voice, once tempered, had taken on a ferocious cadence, a stormlander refusing to cower. "i am lady velaryon—no common rose you can trample upon. my husband even in his absence is still cousin to the targaryens." a delicate tremor ran through her voice, an echo of suppressed rage, but the strength in her eyes resonated unyielding resolve.

his words, coarse and uncouth, clung to the air—a stain upon the grand tapestry of nobility. "how dare you!" her pent-up fury could no longer be restrained. all attempts at upholding her ladylike demeanor disintegrated, her anger claiming its throne. the wall of restraint crumbled—she was no porcelain doll to be trampled upon. his insults, an affront to her worth and dignity, sparked a ferocity that she could no longer suppress. "you are a cad and brute!" the words rushed forth, a proclamation of her judgment, a piercing indictment of his character. her open palm flew through the air—a strike aimed at his face, a physical testament to her refusal to be silenced, her yearning for respect, and the declaration that she was no easy prey to his barbed words.

ellievswann​:

.

within the intricate tapestry of these kingdoms, there often emerged figures that seemed destined to be nothing but thorns in her side. they stood as if purposefully designed to vex her to the point of losing the delicate threads of her composure. and among them, there he was—a member of the very council where her husband held his seat. worse still, he was a friend of her husband’s, adding another layer to the complex interactions they found themselves enmeshed in. 

disdain emanated from his every glance, a palpable chill that seemed reserved particularly for her and the entourage from the stormlands. it was not only his demeanor but also the tales her brother had told her with about the fiery exchange he’d had with the celtigar lord. a tale heavy on action and light on words, it seemed.

then why did she continue to engage in conversations with a man with whom she shared mutual animosity? a question that loomed over her, even as she regarded him with a level of fascination that could be seen as dangerous. he was a break from the predictable monotony of court life, a jolt of unpredictability that, against her better judgment, lured her attention. dangerous indeed, she mused, unwilling to admit even to herself the curious dance they seemed to be entwined in. it was a dance of restraint, a contest of wills. a dangerous dance for them both.

“my husband is currently in discussions with some lords. i’m certain he will be available for conversation later, should you wish,” her words flowed like a masterful painting, each phrase layered with formal elegance, as taught by her mother. beneath her facade, the tempest of emotions raged, but like a seasoned performer, she concealed it well. some sentiments were better kept locked away.

as she contemplated dismissing him, he pressed on, his words continuing like a tempest battering the shores of her patience. anger flared within her, threatening to erupt like a furious storm, a question lingering—was he testing her, searching for the sore spots to prod, keen to see what reactions he could extract from her? she held her ground, refusing to be ensnared in his provocations. though the waves were beginning to erode her composure ever so slightly

a sigh, so subtle, whispered its way past her lips. “i see little reason for you to require my husband’s insights on stonehelm, given his own limited experience of it. unlike him, i have spent my entire life in that stronghold and may well possess a more intricate understanding of its intricacies than anyone within these court walls,” her tone was measured, every syllable painstakingly restrained as she fought to keep her emotions tethered. “i shall attribute your inquiry to a momentary lapse of memory, lord celtigar. it won’t judge it against your intelligence.”

her words were accompanied by a smile, as if she could banish the tension with the mere curve of her lips. “unless, of course, you were seeking a conversation with me? there is no need to be so shy, not for a lord like you.. after all, we seem to be on the cusp of familiarity.,” she added with a hint of playful slyness, a glint of irony dancing in her gaze.

mxc.

lady elenda of house swann was not an individual he knew anything of prior to her betrothal to the ruling lord of driftmark: there was no reason why a man such as himself would need to know anything regarding a woman who was raised within the stormlands, who answered to the stags of storms end. even after the betrothal, there was still no use in them becoming acquainted; his discussions with deimos entirely ignored the sight of his wife sat beside him, night after night within the court of kings landing. almost as though she were not there at all, an empty seat with an empty space and an emptier head.

“you are not your husband.’ his tone was blunt and scathing, almost entirely cruel and laced with disgust as he looked upon her. as though she were vermin. then looking at the book in her skirts. a bored wife at home could come up with many ways to damage the reputation of her husband. her family. her house. a part of him wished to ensure the lord paramount of the stormlands knew to never cross him again. “that in itself, is the answer.”

even if he were visiting driftmark, which would be the only place in which he actually greeted the new lady of driftmark as it were on her own lands, his greeting was entirely cold. it were obvious what thoughts lingered in his mind; his abhorrence for stormlanders was more obvious than ever following the dragons taking the lands of wilderness. and yet, that had changed in the flicker of a moment when he had crossed the threshold of the apartments of the hand of the king and found the sight of her sat within the corner of the room: book on her skirts, lost.

she spoke of how her knowledge of stonehelm would no doubt surpass her husbands: and yet still, he gave her the wrong attention. he gave her scathing, distrust. he made her into the other.  and it seemed to do something to spark that wild, disgraceful nature that was within stormlanders: they had no idea of civility. it showed in the way she watched him, a playful smirk on her lips. 

“aren’t you smart - remembering all the words your septa taught you.” he asked, a violet gaze fixed on her. “good memory.”

and it were obvious that whatever that page was, she would much rather be there than here in this moment in time. it slowly dawned on him that he had not seen much of lady elenda velaryon at kings landing: for she remained mostly upon driftmark, no doubt for her husband a decade her senior to return home. the thought was enough to almost amuse him; the idea of her misery, more than anything else. such was the reality when stormlanders overreached. they found themselves unable to adapt. unable to keep up and understand those around them: of higher breeding, high caliber. 

“you are on the cusp of behaving the whore.” dirt. she was as dirty as the soil of their lands. there was a reason their gods had given them the stormlands. for conquering. for civilising.

he crossed the room, his hands before him; and he continued to simply look at her. it amused him. it made him think of doing things that he knew he would not regret in the morning; things that would set the small council on fire. she seemed desperate. and he could almost picture her on her knees. “if you were were one, i would tell you that if you were my wife, you would find yourself taking my cock down your throat. keep that mouth shut and avoid making your husband look any more like a fool.”

he fixed her with a look. a silent look, and a dark smirk that played on features to see the reaction that crossed over her face. a silent look, that asked a question. are you a whore, elenda? 

[ellievswann]

.

within the intricate tapestry of these kingdoms, there often emerged figures that seemed destined to be nothing but thorns in her side. they stood as if purposefully designed to vex her to the point of losing the delicate threads of her composure. and among them, there he was—a member of the very council where her husband held his seat. worse still, he was a friend of her husband's, adding another layer to the complex interactions they found themselves enmeshed in. disdain emanated from his every glance, a palpable chill that seemed reserved particularly for her and the entourage from the stormlands. it was not only his demeanor but also the tales her brother had told her with about the fiery exchange he'd had with the celtigar lord. a tale heavy on action and light on words, it seemed.

then why did she continue to engage in conversations with a man with whom she shared mutual animosity? a question that loomed over her, even as she regarded him with a level of fascination that could be seen as dangerous. he was a break from the predictable monotony of court life, a jolt of unpredictability that, against her better judgment, lured her attention. dangerous indeed, she mused, unwilling to admit even to herself the curious dance they seemed to be entwined in. it was a dance of restraint, a contest of wills. a dangerous dance for them both.

"my husband is currently in discussions with some lords. i'm certain he will be available for conversation later, should you wish," her words flowed like a masterful painting, each phrase layered with formal elegance, as taught by her mother. beneath her facade, the tempest of emotions raged, but like a seasoned performer, she concealed it well. some sentiments were better kept locked away.

as she contemplated dismissing him, he pressed on, his words continuing like a tempest battering the shores of her patience. anger flared within her, threatening to erupt like a furious storm, a question lingering—was he testing her, searching for the sore spots to prod, keen to see what reactions he could extract from her? she held her ground, refusing to be ensnared in his provocations. though the waves were beginning to erode her composure ever so slightly

a sigh, so subtle, whispered its way past her lips. "i see little reason for you to require my husband's insights on stonehelm, given his own limited experience of it. unlike him, i have spent my entire life in that stronghold and may well possess a more intricate understanding of its intricacies than anyone within thesecourt walls," her tone was measured, every syllable painstakingly restrained as she fought to keep her emotions tethered. "i shall attribute your inquiry to a momentary lapse of memory, lord celtigar. it won’t judge it against your intelligence"

her words were accompanied by a smile, as if she could banish the tension with the mere curve of her lips. "unless, of course, you were seeking a conversation with me? there is no need to be so shy, not for a lord like you.. after all, we seem to be on the cusp of familiarity.," she added with a hint of playful slyness, a glint of irony dancing in her gaze.

ellievswann​:

location: in a vassell lord’s castle during the travels back to the crownlands

@vlxyrianclaws

the trip back home was always far too long for her liking. it was strange to call driftmark her home now. it was starting to feel like it more and more. but splitting her time between driftmark and kings landing made it hard to feel like one of these places were her actual home. honestly she was looking forward to getting to stay home in driftmark for a few weeks while deimos finished up his some final dealings. they’d get to spend some time there together before having to go back so deimos could continue his dealings as hand of the king.

but for now at least they could enjoy their time together in his journey back. the whole traveling council members and their families had stopped at a local lord’s castle to spend the next few days before continuing their journey. and of course demios was whisked away to do…something.

and here she was once again ready for something to happen. anything. at least she had gotten the honor of working as a lady in waiting for the queen. it gave her something to do. but she wanted more. 

gods if she were a man she could be working for the iron bank or studying great histories or weighing in on the intellectual discussion of philosophers. her mind ached for something. anything.

sitting in the small common area, she flipped through the pages of her book barely reading what was on the page. she had begged for something to happen, anything at all. but she didn’t mean him. not that pompous ass who seemed to hate her very presence. “lord celtigar.” elenda greeted him a he made his way over towards him. she placed the book down at her side to give him her attention. as much as she wished to simply brush him off she would not disrespect a man so important as he. “can i help you with anything? or are you looking for my husband?”

mxc.

was the woman to have any idea that his knuckles were bruised from the beating he had put upon the face of her own brother? no; and yet, the lord of cracklaw point found a strange amusement in knowing that behind the obvious irritation she found in his presence, she would have no clue that soon, the sight of her brother’s face would surprise her. it was a shame he would not be there to see the look of irritation wipe, and see shock take over instead; did he have any genuine issues with the lady of driftmark? 

“lady velaryon.” his tone, if one listened close enough, almost sounded sarcastic.

no. apart from her stock and her breed, her family name. so in reality, most of everything. even that was hardly of any genuine importance rather than the usual sense of twisted, warped superiority; they were wild, they were uncivilised and uncouth. they needed peoples such as himself to civilise them, as valyria had once been the greatest of all empires. it was the way nature itself worked; the weaker ones submitted to those stronger, faster, smarter. and perhaps he would have walked right by her, if not for the fact she had that surname. house swann. 

“i was looking for your husband.”

did she have any inclination that the lord paramount of the stormlands intended on bringing a lady of cracklaw point within the walls of stonehelm? did she have any genuine knowledge of the strangeness that seemingly lingered between the two; for as much as he wished to be assured that his sister remembered all they had been taught, despite the fact he knew she too shared similar thoughts regarding their superiority, he knew there had been a line that was crossed. some sick part of him decided that, whilst walking over to her direction indifferently, his expression blank, he would engage in a game of his own. 

“i sought to ask him some questions about stonehelm.” a hook.

sat with a book on her lap, just as she always was, day after day. head in it. but never doing anything with that information; one needed to take one look at her face to see it. “what would i ever need to seek you out for?” why did lyra feel the need to go to stonehelm? considering the dubious nature of lord arthur swann, the eldest son of stonehelm; but how much did elenda truly know of her brother’s thoughts? of his plans? 

[ellievswann]

a peak into the letter written by ellie to her brother

@malcontentswanns

[ellievswann]

.

ellie's thoughts swirled like gusts of wind through the halls of stonehelm, pondering what path would be best for their ancient house. should they seek an alliance with a house from the stormlands, beneficial for the people, or should they strive for a ruling lady from another influential domain, elevating house swann to its rightful position? their wealth, respect, honor, and reputation—qualities that shone like the gems in will’s collection, much like will—made it high time for those beyond the stormlands to recognize their true worth.

"i believe choosing a house willing to cooperate with the stormlands would serve us best. ultimately we are supposed to be united we cannot fight against that now. if you do consider a house from the crownlands, ensure she holds sympathy for the stormlanders. the people of stonehelm might not turn their nose up at a crownlander bride, but it is in our collective interest to find a bride worthy of stonehelm and of you," she spoke with the wisdom she could only hope was correct.

in her heart, ellie knew this world was not meant for her brother, will. he belonged to the realm of books and knowledge, a scholar through and through. though she yearned to join him in that world, she recognized her role in the courts, where she would charm, smile, and gather secrets as ladies often did. such was her destined world. if only will did not have to step into it.

"you won't have to, will, please," she assured him, reaching across the table to take his hand. "i will make the arrangements and gather the information you need. focus on returning home and reuniting with our family. i can take care of the rest for you." her determination was palpable, a testament to the unyielding love she held for her brother. “but in the end, it will have to be you who makes the decision.”

"no, i would never think you'd be the type of man to abandon our good sister. she has remained by arthur's side through thick and thin. she is part of our family, with or without him," her voice caught unexpectedly at the mention of arthur. there had been tension and squabbles, but he was their sibling—their protector. the reality of what awaited him struck her like a bolt of lightning, momentarily breaking her composed and demure demeanor. swiftly, she gathered herself, refusing to be consumed by emotion. there were too many tasks ahead, too many responsibilities to shoulder, to allow herself to dwell on such thoughts now. the swanns had to persevere, just as they had these past few months.

"i will compile the list for you and have it ready before your travels," she pledged.

ellievswann​:

there was a sad recognition in ellie’s eyes when will confirmed what they were both were thinking. it had been so unspoken for years, everything kept so close to the family that it made it almost seem like it wouldn’t happen. if they didnt discuss this, if they didn’t think about it then it would never happen. but it would. their brother was not getting better. he would not get any better. there was a sadness within the understanding of them both.

there were only a few words that the two siblings needed to share to understand one another. she knew what will be needed to do when he got home and new her part in helping. “i will prepare a list for you. not that you need to pick from my choices or mother’s or father’s but at least it will give you somewhere to start. the ladies around this court are always abuzz with whom is free and who’s power is dwindling.” she told him, taking a seat across from him. “we are swanns, others should be wishing to join our family.”

“i have played my part for our family will. i have secured our alliance to the targaryens through my marriage. don’t think i am complaining about that, my husband is a good man. but you will… i want you to find someone from our home. you deserve someone whom you care for or can grow to care for. let us play chess with the dragons in their cities but have our home be ours.”

➳

the genuine prospect of marriage was one that made him feel as though he could sense the headache coming before it even began; truthfully, he had always been entirely split upon the matter. it seemed as though everyone around them married for the sake of political alliance, which was a strength and was necessary according to the ways in which their society simply was. he knew why that happened. he knew why others did such things. it made sense. something about elenda speaking of gathering women made the whole thing feel so real. 

“you think a stormlands house would be better?” he asked, his tone tired. the prospect exhausted him, and it did not even start yet. what didn’t make sense, was the way in which some people seemed to expect more from political arrangements: he had no clue whether his sister loved her husband. truthfully, he did not want to know.

“i will pick from your list. i am not...” he trailed off, a slight sigh escaping from his mouth at the prospect of being put in a room and attempting to force conversations with people. did he need to ask them what their favourite colour was? did he need to ask them what their favourite song was? if they enjoyed reading? when he did not truly care? “i won’t do it.” he did not expand on what he meant. she would understand. his hand came down upon the armrest. “the extra faff. i don’t have it in me.” 

he just knew not how to have another person in his personal space; be emotionally available for another person. women were strange creatures; they seemed to mean one thing and say another. they were easily ready to shed tears for things they too done; he had made lyra celtigar cry so seamlessly he wondered whether there was something wrong with him. “and hers.” he spoke, a brief comment on their goodsister.

for when lord arthur swann died, wylliam would not turn out the woman that had dedicated herself to their family. she would be welcome to remain in stonehelm, should she wish: there would be no expectation for her to return to her own kin. “i understand there could be tensions, but i do not intend on removing her from the family or sending her away.” she would lose her status of ruling lady to the second son, and whoever wylliam married; he only hoped arthur was preparing his wife for life without him.

he did not know how he would do it. 

[ellievswann]

there was a sad recognition in ellie’s eyes when will confirmed what they were both were thinking. it had been so unspoken for years, everything kept so close to the family that it made it almost seem like it wouldn’t happen. if they didnt discuss this, if they didn’t think about it then it would never happen. but it would. their brother was not getting better. he would not get any better. there was a sadness within the understanding of them both.

there were only a few words that the two siblings needed to share to understand one another. she knew what will be needed to do when he got home and new her part in helping. “i will prepare a list for you. not that you need to pick from my choices or mother’s or father’s but at least it will give you somewhere to start. the ladies around this court are always abuzz with whom is free and who’s power is dwindling.” she told him, taking a seat across from him. “we are swanns, others should be wishing to join our family.”

“i have played my part for our family will. i have secured our alliance to the targaryens through my marriage. don’t think i am complaining about that, my husband is a good man. but you will… i want you to find someone from our home. you deserve someone whom you care for or can grow to care for. let us play chess with the dragons in their cities but have our home be ours.”

ellievswann​:

there was a melancholy that had hung around her brother for a time now, completely understandable. she had been there to hold him as he cried. she had seen his face and could almost hear his heart breaking at the news. but will was tough, tougher than anyone may give him credit for. he had found the strength to move forwards to continue his duties as master of laws. to perhaps find another happiness, at least she could hope.

ellie hated that she must be the bearer of more bad news to him. she wished it had been joyful news of their nephews birth but it had to be this. “i think we both know why he could not travel to highgarden will.” her words were often careful as she danced around the subject of their brother, but this was no time for that. no they needed to be direct. that time had finally come. ellie put down the letter from their goodsister ontop of his work.

“i…i don’t think he is getting any better. will…. i don’t think there will be another child.”

➳

what reason was that exactly? the fact the very name of their brother was not entirely in the good graces of the targaryens in this very moment in time, rumours of possible treason and snubbing of a new power. or the fact that handkerchief after handkerchief seemed to be stained with blood after each cough, or blood stains on the bedsheets of every failed pregnancy that seemed to haunt the ancient walls of stonehelm. 

it were too easy to claim that the swanns of stonehelm were easy to work out; an open book on the lap of the girl that once followed after her older brother on the banks of a mighty river. for the secrets that had been wrapped up within them continued to live with them. 

“because he is aggravating them more, or because he has a point?” the velaryon master of ships in nightsong. an inland house. it was laughable. 

there was weight to his words. daeron dondarrion, as much as he appreciated and respected the man, seemed to be a piece in a wider game of chess; feigning acceptance and inclusion. it were obvious to see who held the reins of power within the court of kings landing. and if stonehelm were soon to end up being in his hands, being his responsibility to handle and continue securing along the dornish borders, he knew the targaryens would seek to secure it in ways that were more than merely wylliam’s good word. for wylliam would be dead in some years, and of what the generations to come? 

“..neither do i.”

there was a low exhale as he looked upon his sister, his expression and his eyes saying more than he could ever say. he and his family were more than simple parts on a chessboard - he would not be pressured into marrying a targaryen or velaryon to secure their presence within their own lands. any future ruling lady of stonehelm would need to understand the sentiment of the stormlanders. 

“i will arrange to return to the stormlands soon, and see the family. see to it.” the line of succession, was what they referred to. 

[ellievswann]

everyday away from driftwood was another day some terrible could happen. another day someone could turn on each other and he was so far away. right in the middle of it all. elenda did not fully trust the rest of the targaryen family. afterall they had turned on each other once before. what would stop them from doing it again? and deimos would find himself right in the middle of the mess being hand of the queen. her own brother could be in danger as well. she hated being away from them both but someone needed to watch driftmark while he was gone.

he was safer at home with her here. they could be alright here away from all.

ellie had been waiting all morning for any sign of deimos ship on the horizon. the moment it was annouced they were spotted she rushed down to the beach to meet them. her heart fluttered when she spotted him aboard the ship. she could curse him for warming heart so, making it soft just at the sight of him. it was annoying but how could she blame him.

how could she resist when he looked at her like that? when he rushed across the beach like that. took her in his arms. her lips met his as he pulled her into the embrace. "welcome home." was all she could barely say between the kisses. seemingly forgetting the other men aboard the ship not too far from them.

Location: The Crownlands, Driftmark Closed starter for @ellievswann​

After the return from the Reach, the Hand of the Queen had remained at King’s landing for a few weeks, staying at his cousin’s side to ensure matters in the realm were running smoothly. It was tiresome, of course, addressing the issues that had flared up in their absence. His lady wife ruled Driftmark in her own right while Deimos was away, with ravens exchanged between the two from time to time. There was some relief in being able to write I’m coming home in his last letter to his wife.

And so trquoise sails were seen approaching Driftmark, and as they sailed closer to the coast, the Master of the Tides could recognize Elenda’s figure there, waiting by the shore. Deimos shouted orders at his men and when it was all said and done, the Valyrian ship docked at home, the lord rushed to reunite with his wife. Gods, he’d missed her.

[ellievswann]

location: in a vassel lord's castle during the travels back to the crownlands

@vlxyrianclaws

the trip back home was always far too long for her liking. it was strange to call driftmark her home now. it was starting to feel like it more and more. but splitting her time between driftmark and kings landing made it hard to feel like one of these places were her actual home. honestly she was looking forward to getting to stay home in driftmark for a few weeks while deimos finished up his some final dealings. they’d get to spend some time there together before having to go back so deimos could continue his dealings as hand of the king.

but for now at least they could enjoy their time together in his journey back. the whole traveling council members and their families had stopped at a local lord’s castle to spend the next few days before continuing their journey. and of course demios was whisked away to do…something.

and here she was once again ready for something to happen. anything. at least she had gotten the honor of working as a lady in waiting for the queen. it gave her something to do. but she wanted more. 

gods if she were a man she could be working for the iron bank or studying great histories or weighing in on the intellectual discussion of philosophers. her mind ached for something. anything.

sitting in the small common area, she flipped through the pages of her book barely reading what was on the page. she had begged for something to happen, anything at all. but she didn’t mean him. not that pompous ass who seemed to hate her very presence. “lord celtigar.” elenda greeted him a he made his way over towards him. she placed the book down at her side to give him her attention. as much as she wished to simply brush him off she would not disrespect a man so important as he. “can i help you with anything? or are you looking for my husband?”

[ellievswann]

these were the event ellie's mother had been training her for since she was a little girl. these times, when women gathered together, could be seen as frivolous by less intelligent men. but those who saw beyond their own misogynist views could understand the power that came from meetings such as this. the information that could be obtained during things like this, secrets, alliances. or just new friendships. all of it was possible at gatherings like this.

however right now ellie was also thankful to just have something to do this afternoon. all her time could be spent with her books but even for her after a time she needed something to do. plus it seemed rarer and rarer that these types of gatherings were happening. so she gathered herself up, dressed as the newest ruling lady velaryon should and headed out to the party.

"it is a very beautiful day, what a wonderful idea to have everyone gathered together like this. it's a rare chance we get to do so." ellie smiled, glancing around at the already growing number of women from all over. "i wanted to thank you lady manderly for the invitation here. i have heard many wonderful things of the north from my queen caerella. though i unfortunately have yet to travel there myself."

| open starter, banter length |  | after the weddings of the reach have come to a stop and discussions of political natures begin manal takes it upon herself to host a brunch for the ladies of the many courts. (though men are allowed to attend they were not directly invited as to avoid implications. | 

“There are already people arriving.” Manal spoke to her serving girl as she walked along the gardens, a man behind with a parasol over her head. As much as she enjoyed the Reach, she was finding it did terrible things to her hair and the parasol worked best for her comfort. She folded her hands in front of her as she pointed to a serving girl to move and tend to the table of aunties muttering in their cups. 

Why did she decide to do this? Because she was bored. A lady in the North often found herself bored when she’d rather spend her day not trouncing around in mud and playing with sticks. Yes, women of the North could do a great many things. Manal cared not for a single of those additional activities of Northern women. Why play alongside the men when she could watch and greet them after? Men smell strangely after being in the wild all day. There was no need to encourage them by joining in. 

“Hello, welcome, welcome. There are tables aplenty and food. Such a beautiful day to enjoy the sun and fresh air.” 

[ellievswann]

there was a melancholy that had hung around her brother for a time now, completely understandable. she had been there to hold him as he cried. she had seen his face and could almost hear his heart breaking at the news. but will was tough, tougher than anyone may give him credit for. he had found the strength to move forwards to continue his duties as master of laws. to perhaps find another happiness, at least she could hope.

ellie hated that she must be the bearer of more bad news to him. she wished it had been joyful news of their nephews birth but it had to be this. "i think we both know why he could not travel to highgarden will." her words were often careful as she danced around the subject of their brother, but this was no time for that. no they needed to be direct. that time had finally come. ellie put down the letter from their goodsister ontop of his work.

"i…i don't think he is getting any better. will…. i don't think there will be another child."

ellievswann​:

location: will swanns chambers in highgarden

@malcontentswanns

ellie’s eyes glanced over the letter in her hands, her mind going a million places at once. thinking of all the outcomes that could come from this letter. but only one settled in her mind as the strongest possibility. one that she was sure will did not wish to hear at this moment but one that they needed to discuss. making her way to her brother’s chambers, she kept the letter in hand. as she entered in the room, she dismissed the guards there with a simple wave of the hand and a quick “leave us.” once they were gone she glanced back to her brother. “i’ve received news from our good sister. unfortunately, the child she was carrying…” she paused, frowning. “he is gone. she has miscarried earlier this month. it seems her health has taken a toll from this.”

➳

the master of laws had remained within his chambers for the majority of this day, moving between the various rooms from the audience chamber to his personal bedchamber, almost as though that was enough of a change of setting. there were days where he did not necessarily feel the urge to want to socialise and be in the company of others, not from a place of melancholy,  but from a place of needing to be simply left to regather himself and his energy. he had promised to meet with the lady of tarth later on in that evening, not only for dinner, but for going over what plans she wished to push out and develop for tarth. 

at the sound of familiar footsteps approaching the other side of his door, wylliam swann's warm dark gaze looked up from the collected revenue from tenants belonging to the lands of stonehelm. 

he felt as though he barely was able to register his sister's presence before she began to speak on the other issue regarding the family. there was a part of him that felt his jaw hardening, clearing his throat: no doubt their older brother was a source of tension within their court. but he was their brother nonetheless.  "is that why he did not travel to highgarden? at least, one of the reasons?" and what of his health, was the question that truly defeaned any form of steady silence that hung in the air. "they can try again, in time, when she has regained her strength."

[ellievswann]

location: will swanns chambers in highgarden

@malcontentswanns

ellie's eyes glanced over the letter in her hands, her mind going a million places at once. thinking of all the outcomes that could come from this letter. but only one settled in her mind as the strongest possibility. one that she was sure will did not wish to hear at this moment but one that they needed to discuss. making her way to her brother's chambers, she kept the letter in hand. as she entered in the room, she dismissed the guards there with a simple wave of the hand and a quick "leave us." once they were gone she glanced back to her brother. "i've received news from our good sister. unfortunately, the child she was carrying..." she paused, frowning. "he is gone. she has miscarried earlier this month. it seems her health has taken a toll from this."