nasirofmanderlys - Tumblr blog

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

things like this never needed to be a big deal; especially when it came to tion peake, the calmer one dealt and offered advice on matters, the more likely someone was going to get something out of him that was more than just audible hums. and so, nasir manderly made sure to speak about this as though it were the most casual thing in the world - paying more attention to fixing his cufflinks.

but the reality was, nasir manderly was listening - and he was listening intently.

"you'll block when you're ready." because it truly was as simple as that; one day he would wake up and realise he was over this whole drama that he spent far too much energy on, even in his composed, calm manner. he was glad tion was speaking to him about it, because if he were being honest he had multiple questions about the whole thing. some of them being answered without even having to ask.

"but...they should know you're bothered? it'd be weird if they thought you were okay with it, and weirder if you act like it's not an issue. there's only so much you're gonna sit and take. if it makes them uncomfortable and awkward, good."

he'd honestly offer to try and match his best friend up with someone, but maybe some time away from women could do him well. the last thing he needed was transferring issues that were not the woman's to deal with to her shoulders. that, and nasir himself wasn't the best in regard to women. "forget what they think about it. it's good for you to put yourself out there again."

his own phone beeped, and looked down at it. tion's phone beeped at the same time. "the guys have made a group chat. think we're all dipping early and doing our own thing. you coming?" the usual group. ja, amir, lysano, tirius - maybe even a guest surprise from lucerys.

tion had never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, nor to stress himself out - at least, not in a way that could easily be noticed. with nasir, though, it was different, a friendship with enough trust that he could let down his guard a little. it wasn't a marked change - a crease between his brows, a slight downturn of his mouth, but it was enough to make it clear that he was not much looking forward to seeing either of them.

but if he had hoped for words of wisdom, he was sorely mistaken. instead, what nasir offered was a reality check.

tion picked up his phone, staring at it for a second as though contemplating doing exactly that, then sighed, tossing it carelessly on to the small table next to the chair he had sunk into. "can't," he said, simply. "they'd only know i was bothered if i did that." in truth, he suspected ayca, at the very least, knew he was already quite bothered by how things had turned out. mariela was another story all together. they'd never really gone anywhere, but he could have sworn there was something - until he heard that she had something with someone else, too. it was all a bigger mess than he wanted to be dealing with.

"you're right," he conceded, rubbing a hand over his beard. "you're right," he repeated, a little more defeated. he eyed his phone again. "there's bound to be some single women here anyway. and if they see me with one, that's all the better."

[nasirofmanderlys]

who: @tionpeake when and where: nasir's room, as he tries to work out what blazer to wear

he were stood in the mirror, half wondering whether the blue appeared too bright for a function such as this one: he wordlessly answered his own question when he shrugged off the blazer, instead going to put on the grey one he was originally wearing at the beginning. all the while, he listened to his best friend speak on the update in his life; or multiple updates.

he moved to fix the tom ford watch on his wrist, walking back into the main living area where tion was, already in the rum nasir had begun to drink earlier.

"just block them." he uttered, as though he were offering groundbreaking advice. truly, ayca mallister had always been for the streets, and mariela egen's association with lucius rivers was enough. "if mariela wanted you, she'd be with you. she's not." because it were truly as simple as that. if someone wanted to be with someone, they would be. anything else, is dragging along another's interest for the sake of their own ego.

"both of them like the attention, even if they won't admit it. stop giving it to them."

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

the distance that had been imposed between the lord of sea dragon point and the rest of the north by the king was a move that nasir did not entirely agree with; all for the reason of believing it ultimately went to undermine what owen had actually decreed. "it is long overdue on my own behalf." nasir admitted, his head nodding in response; the move of the hand to his chest drew his attention, if not for the familiarity such a move had within the halls of white harbour.

"i wanted to gather the facts before visiting you." because of them all, nasir understood the importance of grieving in a healthy manner - of not letting one become engulfed with a sense of vengeance, or marked by hatred. "any misinformation being spread is being reported back to me, and amply corrected." how false information instantly spread and flamed anger, and rumour…well, rumour were the true enemy of man. the long, patient enemy that had issue with taking years to bring one down.

the lord of sea dragon point had been granted a pardon and understood by the king in the north, enough to distance and isolate his longest, most trusted companion - the case against lady karstark was ample enough to grant that clemency. all the man before him was doing, was his duty; was what any guard would have been expected to do. gods knew, should anything have befallen the queen, it would be he who would be considered responsible - it would be ren who would be painted as negligent, and of a lazy work ethic.

targets of hatred, of otherness, or isolation. it made a slight look cross over nasir's features, and his voice cleared - he were not blunt enough to inform the man in question that if the manderlys were still considered the other, so would his people, and the yitish. such words were too cutting for them, and nasir could speak of much casually - not this. "there will always be an other." nasir spoke, in quiet agreement with the man. none wanted to see what happened to the communities surrounding white harbour to happen to others.

"i cannot promise you of the actions of other men…or women." gods knew, there were some women in the attackers. screaming. blaming. "but i can assure you that any spewing such filth, will be met with the full force of the king's justice. we are not new valyria; our realm is not built on race, or how one looks. i assure you, we will not be taken by surprise again. if i suspect that you need reinforcement, then manderly men will be sent to your door to support you."

The Lord of Sea Dragon Point was to meet with the Lord Hand. Much of what was whispered about him would be set aflame by word of the Manderly lord or would perhaps be scattered. So much depended on what the other man thought of him, and there was some regret in Ren to not have built more of a closer relationship with the other before, so Nasir could have prior knowledge of his character. Keeping many at arm's length to secure his past had proved to be part of his downfall now. For what had the Northerners known about him beyond his origins and his position in the Kingsguard? Not much else.

“My lord,” Renshu greeted the other with a polite nod, the sort of bow that continued to hold traces of his YiTish origin. He could also detect in the lord before him traces that were not only of Northerner origin. “I thank you for the time,” he added, grateful for it, and somewhat hopeful that he might be heard rather than immediately judged.

The YiTish lord took a seat and thanked Nasir for the array of food that had been set up for them with another silent nod, a hand briefly going up to his chest. In his language there were many ways to say thank you, varying in situations and to those being addressed, and yet there were many more instances of body language becoming the way in which to show gratitude. “I do not spare much thought to my own safety if I'm honest. I've served to protect others for many years now,” he answered in truth. “I do fear for the people of Sea Dragon Point. I do not wish to see them become targets of otherness, isolation, or hatred”. Least of all, as consequence of an action he took.

[nasirofmanderlys]

who: @intothewylde when and where: lannisport, during lann's day; the hand of the king of the north and the lord paramount of the stormlands find themselves in conversation over a drink. various different lords are at an eatery, whilst celebrations continue outside.

there came the jovial sound of laughter, the roaring sort one felt in the pit of their stomach that were the natural assumption one would hear being sat at a table of northerners and stormlanders. at surface level, it were easy to claim they had some sense of similarity: a striking roughness and a sense of unpredictability, not fitting in the stereotype of what it was to be a chivalrous lord. though it seemed as though two men, both prominent in nature in both courts, worked to settle themselves against that title: whilst the rest of their folk dined, laughed, drunk and called across the room to various different tavern wenches and smallfolk alike.

in the corner of a quieter part of the room, one found the hand of king owen stark and the lord paramount of the stormlands.

"we have all heard of the situation within the marches." nasir spoke, already engulfed in conversation with the man who shared a similar temperament to him; truthfully, nasir did not understand how it was one could govern both regions - what actual power did the lord paramount hold in the chain of positions under the court of the green dragon? "do you not think it risky to remain within the same proximity, considering all that could happen?" he were referring to the dornish; for whilst the issue seemed to stem from the valyrians, something about a missing lady of godsgrace, it seemed as though the dornish would take the opportunity to wipe away two of their greatest threats - the stormlanders and the valyrians alike.

"is it not much for your people to bare?"

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

he was all too aware of the fact there was a quietness that settled between them, and whilst nasir usually could appreciate moments of silence and stretches of quiet, whenever it settled in the space between them he found himself wondering if he had somehow misstepped. whether his words had been too direct and forward, and had resulted in him somehow offending her.

she had always been the quietest of her siblings, seemingly softer than the rest of them - he was sure she had muttered something under her breath, and he had not heard it. if he were not overthinking, he would simply have ignored it - and yet, nasir did not want her to think he was ignoring her to her very face. why could she not just speak louder?

"…did you say something, your highness?" nasir asked, looking over at her again; and again, his expression always came across far more serious than he could ever truly intend.

perhaps he had only put her off their upcoming journey, and yet it was imperative that the woman in the most amount of power in this northern court understood the reality of where they were going - if not for her to coach the rest of the northern ladies in the court. they could not be too casual with their tongue, they could not find false friends in those who were more foe.

"perhaps that was the reason." or perhaps manal would have found the princess entirely dull and unbecoming; they were striking different, manal able to command the centre of attention - whilst, well, the difference was obvious enough. again, he sounded almost borderline dismissive of dacey's idea of her perhaps getting along with his sister - though not because he actually thought that, but rather because he'd rather not discuss his sister at great length. too sensitive a subject, no doubt.

"i think it would best if you did…i know my limits, princess." he knew what he was good at. gift giving, had never been one of those subjects.

nasir spoke, and dacey fell silent, though her gaze remained fixed upon his face. she was listening, taking everything he said to heart, regarding his words seriously and thoughtfully. there was a wisdom to his words, she thought, one that she should have expected, but made it clear in her mind that owen's decision to name the elder manderly as his next hand had been a correct one. and it were not that she had doubted that, as she had never doubted her brother's vision, but to say there was not uncertainty within her about the change in the north would be untrue. yet, things could not be how they were. they would all need to look to the future, in order to ensure the north was all it could be.

but his guidance did not soothe her, he spoke of hate, and that made her nervous. fearful they would hate her simply upon the sight of her, anxious that something she could do would incite that hatred further. "and so around it goes," she murmured, more to herself than to nasir. she possessed such little capacity for hate in her own heart, and she could not understand those who held it close to them. was it not exhausting? how was it that they were not so weighted down by it that they found it in them to hate even those they purported to hold as allies?

but the same could be said of the north, she supposed, though instead of hating the west or the reach, it seemed to her that they would rather hate one another, as though the war had taught them nothing. she thought of her sister, the princess saoirse, who had clung to her own grudges so hard she left claw marks behind before she had vanished.

"i would not mind if you did." despite her personal issues with nasir manderly, he had spoken to her plainly and granted her insight and truth, and that she could appreciate. "i am grateful for your council, lord manderly. we are stronger when we know what to expect." and she said we, because in his capacity as the new hand of the king, whatever either of them did would reflect on the north.

the north had seen much grief, and house stark had not been untouched by it, but out of everything, even the loss of her own kin, perhaps it was manal manderly's death that felt the most tragic, the most horrifying. her instincts were to offer words of condolences, but what words could there be that could be enough? there wasn't any, and so though her expression softened, her tension and uneasiness giving way to something gentler.

"maybe she thought i would not have accepted?" in truth, there was a high likelihood that she would not have. it had taken her own losses to shake her out of her solitude, an isolation born in her childhood but maintained only by dacey herself. "i did not know your sister well." everything she knew about manal came from what others had told her - but she was yet to find anybody with an unkind word to say about who she was as a person, and how she treated others. "but i think i would have liked her very much."

"i don't think babies like very much," for the first time since the conversation began, a smile found its way to her lips. "and this particular baby is a prince of the west. he will want for nothing." that, at least, she was certain of. "something symbolic would be most suitable, i think. if you would like, i would not mind taking the responsibility for putting something together." it was a small gesture, but it was only in the small gestures that dacey every felt like she could be useful.

[nasirofmanderlys]

who: @jin-renshu when and where: on route to casterly rock for the presentation of prince arthur of house lannister, the hand of the king requests specifically to meet with the infamous lord of sea dragon point, the subject of much speculation and discussion as of recent months. the pair have a private conversation during a rest stop within the nasir's manderly tent, situated only some space away from that of the king's.

jin renshu was a name that nasir manderly did not hear all that often; a name that was often associated with some mystery considering his links across the narrow sea and the lack of details he shared with the northern court, but never that of cruelty or tyranny. and yet now, one of nasir's first cases was to overlook the evidence and speak to the king regarding ren's name being cleared of any charges; something the king had personally pushed for, and assured.

but what about society? how was he to save the man's reputation from being that of a bloodthirsty foreigner? he found a sense of responsibility for solving the case of jin renshu, perhaps because he again did not want to see the one with foreign blood go down in northern history as treacherous.

there was a sense of firmness that came from nasir, a world away from brandon's warmer, rougher around the edges approach of handling situations as hand - put him in a room with the other hands of the continent, and it would all make sense. still, he abstained from passing his judgement until speaking to the man, the myth and the legend himself on a one to one basis - taking the opportunity when the journey came to a rest stop.

it was sunset when the men agreed to meet, in the aftermath of food being shared amongst the camp; nasir had no issue with inviting the lord of sea dragon point to eat in his own tent. the flap of the tent closed behind him, and nasir gestured toward the empty chair, where the food was already laid out. "i thought it time i met you in person, rather than hear of you." nasir spoke, in his unique manderly accent - a blend of northern and that of the old way. he did not shy from it.

"sit, eat with me. whilst certain parts of the conversation may be hard to digest, the food should not." nasir's hands moved to some bread, tearing it apart as he looked at the man - it were no trap. "do you worry for your safety at all, or the safety of your own?"

[nasirofmanderlys]

who: @erenmarbrand when and where: the arrival of the northern court to the land of elegant savagery, the hands of king tyland lannister and king owen stark meet with one another. there is a slight heaviness that lingers in the air between the two, considering the news that came from ashemark since returning from kings landing.

the westermen hated the northmen, and the northmen hated the westermen; it was as much of a fact as any other fact rooted in science and empirical evidence, and yet that did not mean they were to put their jobs aside and forget what their duty and what their role was supposed to be. as part of owen's emphasis upon progression, there was much discussion also placed upon the idea of progressing from the stories of war and the battleground.

the hour of the wolf had come and gone, and the blood spilled by the north and the west upon the fields of the land of rivers had too gone with a blink of an eye.

it was something nasir was resound in his dedication to push through, much unlike the rest of his court. what surprise was that, at this point? and yet still, he briefly wondered the lord marbrand would ever be on the same page as him: whether he too was willing to put the history aside, and focus on what truly mattered - the present. there was still much to see.

"as-salamu alaykum." nasir greeted, his hands clasped together as the hand of the king approached the other; there had always been an air of gravity and seriousness to the oldest lord of ashemark, one which only made him suit his role further.

there was no better time to attempt to bring plans to the lion king than when he were at his highest; the gods had finally given tyland lannister a son, well into his age. a single son, to continue the mightiest of lines; aside from the king's fury, whom many whispered would never be able to be king after all he had done. all he had allowed himself to be.

"the news reached white harbour regarding your brother, my lord. he is in my prayers, and i too have ensured that the guards are looking for him. they will bring me word if they do." they wouldn't - there was a strangeness about a man vanishing. he was probably dead. their younger brothers had been far closer than eren and nasir respectively, and it was for that history they spoke in such a way - that, and the communal ties that bound them together.

then, a slight thought crossed his mind - would any other northmen be met in such a way? "have you heard news?"

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

it seemed as though nasir manderly had unintentionally did that thing he done where he appeared, and sounded, far more stern than he ever truly intended to be; the lady in question seemed to offer multiple apologies in one breath, whilst going on to explain something about the importance ladies placed upon their favours.

nasir wordlessly extended his arm for her to take, a silent acceptance of her question; though he made brief eye contact with his brother, who appeared highly amused by the scene unfolding before him. he did not intend to find himself in this situation, with a lady of the reach (or so he could only guess) on his arm, but here they were. "you appear on edge, lady…" his voice trailed, realising that he had not obtained her family name. just who was he speaking to? "there is no issue. i found no offence in your mistake."

he would not understand a woman's worry of what others would be watching them thinking of - and whether anything would end up on the pamphlets that he did not even bother to read for himself. a small part of him wondered whether she went on to explain such things because of his northern nature, somehow assuming that a man of the north would not understand the chivalric customs that came with southern knighthood. or perhaps he was simply thinking too deeply about that matter - he was definitely thinking too deeply about the matter.

"i understand it was merely a mistake, and therefore it is no issue." he commented, his tone his usual as he moved from her way, allowing her to step away from the main bustling crowds. how awkward he found it, the fact she felt the need to apologise not once, but twice; the man was hardly going to draw his blade and demand a dual over a ribbon.

the manderlys spoke in an interesting accent, a strange blend of the northern and southern accent of the old way intertwined with one another; only a few words seemed to give away their identity seamlessly enough to any who knew much about accents. to his surprise though, she asked him to accompany her away from the bustling crowds around the square for some air away from the crowds - and he began to wonder why she would do such a thing if she had not a moment ago perceived him to be far more irritable than he was.

"i lost my mask some hours back, it seems." a lie, considering he had never bothered to wear one at all. such fanciful foolishness. "does that disqualify me from the afternoon?"

it happened just as quickly as she extended her arm and the silk had been pulled from her grasp. a relieved thank you from the lady who had been missing her favor before disappearing into the crowd once again, and tilly was still frozen, dumb struck, with realizing she had jabbed her elbow into an innocent passerby. green eyes were wide, locked on the man who was no doubt annoyed by the motion she made.

his words made her believe he was awaiting an apology, that was taking far too long to come from her. it had been long since matilda tyrell was truly frozen, recalling the first time was when she was introduced to alicent hightower as a young girl, queen alicent hightower. no lesson or practice had prepared her for the pressure of that moment, it seemed. just keep smiling, tilly. she could hear her mother's voice beckoning her, and her trademark grin came over her face, dimpling her cheeks, though no doubt they were also blush from embarrassment. she would blame the heat, if she had to.

"i'm so sorry, my lord." the words were genuine and stressed, though an apologetic grin remained. "it's silly, i know, but us ladies take great pride of our favors. i would be remiss if i did not find it's owner and was quite vigilant in my pursuit...i'm sorry, i did not see you." she swallowed, realizing she was rambling now.

waving a hand towards her face, either the heat or frustration of her mistake began to actually come over her now. "would you mind accompanying a lady from this crowd? i think i could use a bit of fresh air." she asked of him, taking a step forward, despite his lack of answer, she hoped he would oblige anyways, and at least it might give her an opportunity to make up for her blunder. the last think matilda wanted was one silly mistake being blown out of proportion, for the whispers to say something more scathing occurred than actually did.

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

it did not take long for his dark haze to turn from the outline of various buildings of this new valyria, to a different gaze that was settled upon him: one he felt in the way one felt being stared at from a distance, that secret sixth sense which whispered in the back of his mind to look up. when he did, he saw only the facial expression of the lady before him, no doubt reflecting upon the fact that this instance was only one in which she would be saved. that this would continue, quite possibly for the rest of life; and such was the price for being different.

"yes. people know your husband, lady royce." there was something serious to his tone, all had heard of the harsh cruelty that was axell royce. the ghost of runestone.

he watched the realisation flicker through her features in silent understanding, looking away to give her some semblance of privacy; it felt too personal for some reason, as though he were pushing aside a curtain and looking into a hole within her heart instead. he patted the side of the carriage, in which a guard approached the open window; and nasir spoke when the man approached. "send word forward to the high commander of the vale, axell royce, regarding the incident and his wife's wellbeing. we'll be arriving through the main gate."

he did not know of their relationship, nor was it his responsibility to ask, but nasir knew if anything had befallen his wife, he would be expected to be made informed to be able to take hold of the situation when the time came.

and then he leaned back against the seat, momentarily closing his orbs, and letting out a low breath to avoid the feeling of his chest tightening. such a situation somehow seemed more horrid than treading over a hundred corpses, than hearing the sound of green boys crying for their mother - no, watching someone be made into the other before his very eyes. for a moment, he wondered whether amir had a point. whether it was too late for them. then he took it back.

because for some reason, the facial expressions of yuna's fear seemed to blur into the expressions of manal. he wondered whether she appeared as afraid, how long it had taken for her to cry of fear and terror - whether she had realised she was not going to get out of this alive. whether she had realised the weight was dropping from her body too fast.

she thought of the sea? "you should think of getting out of that situation, as soon as you can. angry people will do anything to have a reason for any of their woes, and it's only better if the reason is a person. people." and for some strange reason, he felt like he could simply withdraw into himself and have a moment to sort through his mind - even before the gaze of a stranger. he would do that for himself, whenever he needed to.

the northern lord ended her line of thanks with a couple of words. yuna disagreed - gratitude was more than needed. the people she encountered had grown hostile so quickly, and if there were any lord or lady who had seen the situation escalate did not intervene. lord manderly did, but wished to talk about the situation no more. the lady of witch isle wished for the same. it happens indeed, and they could only wish for more tolerance.

the carriage ride was continued in silence, with only the sounds of the gravel under the wheels for the music. yuna gazed out of the window of the vehicle, but she had little interest for the landscape around them. instead, she turned her head towards the lord, her gaze fixed on his figure. she tried to remember the stories her mother told of the manderlys. her knowledge was not enviable. she could only remember the merman on their sigil, and a good reputation that followed the members of the house. if all northmen were as selfless as lord nasir, the north was a safe haven indeed.

and as she looked at the man in front of her, she found herself wondering at his state. his exhale, the position of his hand, it all pointed to a feeling of unease. yuna had preferred to spend her life on the sidelines, because she enjoyed the act of seeing, of noticing what others didn't. but she didn't know this lord well. she could not know how he would react to her comments. but she wanted to say something. he had gone out of his way to help her.

"in situations like these," yuna started, her eyes once again watching the outline of the great port of kings landing. it was not home. it would never be home. "i think of the sea. witch isle is an island. so i suppose i have grown used to it. it's amusing, how some people fear it. to me, it means peace. safety, perhaps. the vastness is comforting." even she knew, from her limited knowledge of the north's geography, house manderly was similar. it didn't mean much, the comment, but it was a try.

at his question she turned her attention toward him. it was the truth, the two of them could not ride in silence the whole day. even if it was strangely comforting. she did not wish to take up more of his time. but yuna did not want to exit the safety of the carriage, not yet. not when she could still see the angry faces. she heard the things they said, and somehow the unsaid was even more frightening.

"my lord husband. lord axell royce," she said, the name so familiar on her lips. she wondered if he were busy. these days were not peaceful for the valemen, ever since the attempt on the king's life. "he's the high commander of the vale. one really cannot not notice him," she said, for the first time with a small smile.

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

"i think, knowing there is not much difference between westermen and reachmen is important." there were beats of awkward silence that seemed to sit comfortably between the conversation, not within it but between it; nasir of house manderly had never been one to attempt to fill in the cracks within a conversation, no doubt having once been the quietest of a trio of the generation that no longer existed. she had insisted he did not need to, but nasir would not have the princess of the north walk into a situation she did not know of.

the king, the truth north, and the manderly was what it had seemed to become; the realities of adulthood pulling apart strings of friendship and all but severing them rather than letting them hang loose was all but apparent. "the men of the west do in sunlight what the men in the reach do in the shadows." still, his quiet nature had turned to a certain sense of stubborn sternness that came in his beliefs; and what he could offer the kingdom of the north. "it is easy to assume the men of the west hate us. and perhaps they do. but as do the men of the reach, who are their greatest allies. then, they too hate one another."

the brothers of house manderly had swung both ways; one latching further onto the north, as though he wished to shake it into waking itself up and realising how much better it could be. the other turning away from it, all too apparent of the feelings of isolation and otherness that the stirrings had caused against their own. "i do not ever intend to inform your highness of how to behave, or how to be. only that, your kindness and your virtue is an exception within such lands."

there was no denying the fact that much bloodshed stained the pure snow of the north, but the violence targeted toward the manderlys and their people was due to a different reason - not just treason, but a feeling of being a scapegoat. the wealthy other. "manal found a great love for the reach." his late sister, the oldest kidnapped by the false king and who perished from malnutrition. he knew it the moment he looked upon her frame, her face; the death that had already sunk within her face.

"she spoke of wishing to extend you an invitation to join her, at least once. i am not sure why she never got around to it." perhaps because manal manderly had been a northern socialite, effortlessly involved in all matters - a striking difference to the princess. and suddenly, nasir found himself realising he was able to speak of his sister without feeling something blocking his throat.

now nasir wished to shake them all in their ignorance, force them to look upon what he could and what he would do; never did he think that brandon karstark would be an obstacle, a barrier to such a reality. even when he had detached himself from court, when he had pulled himself away, there continued a sense of faith, loyalty and trust in him that nasir did not have as hand. it caused a large hole in nasir's side, an apparent one any could use to target.

"…ah. i've forgotten that detail. what do babies like?"

"hmm." dacey's own response was a low hum of acknowledgement. would she have liked the reach? she wasn't certain. it certainly seemed as though it would have been less overwhelming than king's landing, and all that transpired there. and yet, it was the latter that had tempted her from the north. perhaps there had been something within her that had sensed what was to come, that she would be needed in a way she had never been before.

"perhaps i would have." or perhaps she would have felt similarly to how she did in the crownlands, lost and shy and adrift. that was not lord manderly's concern, though, and so she kept it to herself. she already felt as though she was sharing too much with him, more than he asked for, at least. it would seem that the more present she was, the more difficult it was to shut up.

and that was the precise wrong way to be - at least, around nasir it was. she was getting along just fine before, when they could comfortably keep their distance from one another, but that distance had become less tenable, and would continue to do so the more time he spent as her brother's hand.

and yet. despite her own discomfort, the prospect of him not being the hand was worse than the prospect of seeing his face in her home more often than she was used to. the north needed the stability of a steady hand, and if it could no longer be brandon karstark, she trusted her brother's judgement, that nasir was the best man for the job.

"you don't have to." the refusal was quick to fall from her lips. "i would like to be prepared, i mean, but that's not exactly within your remit. i won't bother you with that." and she was over-explaining, trying to make the burden of her own existence a little smaller for others and somehow feeling more of an irritant than ever.

and she nodded, for of course there were reasons beyond that which she understood. "of course." she should have known that owen would have his reasons, his presence would be necessary, but did that mean she would need to go, too? almost as soon as the thought materialised, she felt guilty for it. she still had not quite found where she could be most useful to the north, but it would not be hiding behind the walls of winterfell.

"do we have a gift prepared?" she wondered aloud. "from the north, i mean. for the baby?"

[nasirofmanderlys]

who: @amirofmanderlys when and where: flashback thread, set shortly following brandon karstark's departure from the northern court, the brothers of house manderly find themselves catching up on current events and what it means for their family's position, and their family as a whole. at this point, lady manal manderly has been laid to rest and amir's twin sister has ventured across the narrow sea to help in the crusading efforts of alayim

the gathering room within the manderly apartments was quiet, quieter than usual as nasir looked over the official documentation which had been forwarded to his rooms by the king's page. moving his reading spectacles to read it over closely, he almost did not hear the sounds of his younger brother venturing into the room and making his way directly through it, for the intention of going to his own chambers. one could only really tell by his walking style, for nasir had identified how each of his siblings walked across the floorboards.

"had a good day?" nasir asked, to be met with a resounding, brooding silence. there was some grunt, some mutter that he did not entirely pick up. amir had never had a sullen period as a younger man, when one may have expected it to come forth: and yet now, it were as though he were seeing it himself.

there had been a growing quiet between the two brothers, not one of malice and anger, but one of sadness; they both were in their process of grieving. still, he saw the detachment and the derailing happening before him; a back that was turned not to nasir or white harbour individually, but the wider context. what it was to be a northman. "we have news." nasir called over his shoulder, remaining seated upon the recliner; his voice boomed and carried the way it always did. there was news to share, and if nasir had any inclination that could be proved correct, he would know the reaction would not be one that was the best.

and then he heard the footsteps approaching him again, nasir rising from the recliner, keeping a hold of the parchment and another symbol. that of the hand, that was now to be worn upon nasir manderly's torso, in the aftermath of a great schism in the northern court. but he saw it, saw the tensions that brewed between two groups. "the king has made the decision to name me hand." his words to the point, offering the letter to amir to read if he wished it.

"i'll need to be in winterfell more than previously. i'll ensure to check in, especially when she's home." he referred to their youngest sister, who was trying to make a change across the narrow sea. and he did not mean to make it sound like amir could not watch over their sister, or be her guardian, but that was the way the words came out nonetheless. "i know you'll disagree with the move, but i've accepted. it's important to our family, and provides us the direct support."

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

"i did think so." his response in reaction to her words about never having visited the reach, nor the westerlands; there was no denying the fact that of all the courtly beating hearts within the continent, it was the kingdom of thorns and roses that seemed the most culturally developed. a variety of differences between them, and yet their lands were filled with both the necessary for survival, and so much more.

whilst many northerners turned their noses up at the frequent trips the manderlys of white harbour took further south, there was no denying the fact that it had given them something many others did not have - perspective. "we were all there only some months ago, for the coronation of king cedric, following the end to their civil war."

it had been the height of discussion and gossip at the time, how brother had turned against brother; and it had resulted in one root of house tyrell being pulled from the dirt, the body of the eldest son left hanging from a window for all to see.

"perhaps you may have liked it." and suddenly, nasir began to wonder whether he were speaking too much; this princess was one he did not often find himself speaking with, for he did not speak much to any of the stark princesses. there was no denying the fact that dacey was now being forced to be present, because of the troubling issues which had arisen. that left much silences to either allow to grow between them, or fill.

"...do you want me to tell you of the westerlands?" the hand of the king asked, half hoping she would honestly say no, and the conversation could come to an end. why did it feel so strange each time they crossed paths with one another? why did he always find himself wondering whether he had been mistakenly rude? he knew he could do that at times, yet he were always quick to pull back and clarify.

but then she asked another question, one which there was no shortening the conversation of. "the king has been waiting for the right time to approach the lion king with some offer. there is no better time than when the man is of higher spirits - when his son has been born." there was only so much the north could do; search parties were out, but he began to wonder whether both stark princesses had involved themselves in the ritualistic practices of hags of the woods.

in that case, the only person responsible for what happened to them, was them. "there is little use in letting the opportunity slip."

the starks were plenty in number - or at least, they had been, once. that had allowed dacey to slip by unnoticed, to pander to her nerves and her shyness and her desire to avoid the perception of others who may look at her with unkind thoughts. but then jon had died, and so had the queen, and alysanne had vanished without a trace, and so had saoirse , and all of a sudden, there was far less family to hide behind. it had forced dacey out of the comfort of solitude. there was gaping holes in the northern court that they had once filled, that dacey was trying her best to make less pronounced, and it felt like her failure to do so was exceptionally obvious today under nasir's gaze.

he had seen and voiced that weakness in her long ago. it would not surprise him to know that it still existed within her. and now he was hand, there was far less opportunity to stay out of his way. it was an unfortunate reality that they were both needed far more than they ever had been, that their paths would need cross far more often. she bit back the urge to apologise for that, but could not stop herself from scratching at the loose skin around her thumbnail.

"i've never been to the reach, either." she was thinking out loud, and immediately regretted it. it was no secret that she had rarely left the north, where she felt safest, even when it did not seem like the safest place to be. such was the comfort of home, she supposed. but despite that, it felt like another admission of her failures.

"why?" her brows furrowed. was he trying to catch her out, to make her feel a bigger fool than she already did? did he simply wish to see her squirm, to further drive home his point? if he wished to prove her a mouse, he was certainly succeeding. perhaps it was her mistake. she had simply sought to grasp at a topic of conversation, something to fill the awkwardness of the silence between them, and was now faced with trying to justify that.

"i've never seen the westerlands." she confessed. "i know little of what to expect there." there was something else on her mind, but she did not know if nasir was the best person to mention it to. but then, after all, was he not now the hand? if not him, then who else was there to voice her concerns to?

"do you think it wise to be leaving the north at such a time?" there was a different tone to her question, less guarded and more genuine. the kingdom was moving forward, knitting over the void left by her sisters, but dacey had not. with alys, at least, she had some semblance of an answer, thanks to brandon karstark, even if she would never fully know the truth. but saoirse was a different matter entirely, one that kept her up at night.

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

only the land of the lions would have a festival in celebration of a man who slid into the halls of casterly rock as naked as the day he came into existence, only covered in butter, and obtained the fortress that was casterly rock through trickery and foolishness. nasir's own mood was slightly more grumpy than his usual self, no doubt because of the warmer temperature of the westerlands; and yet still, he did not look an inch out of place.

nasir manderly could discard of the furs and slip into tunics and vestments easily, and none would suspect he were out of place; because the manderlys had maintained their southern nature, despite their very essence being northern. masks were supposed to be worn, and yet, his own had been taken by a woman who was excitedly proclaiming a name that belonged to house manderly, only, it was not his own - he merely frowned at this strange woman calling his brother's name excitedly, before she ran off in embarrassment.

and so he had been unmasked by his brother's stalker, and continued to make his way through the crowded stands; all who knew him by name knew it were him, and others merely laughed as they raced by, no doubt because he had been unmasked so quickly into whatever fiendish day this was supposed to be.

his intention was to return to the apartments where the manderlys were being hosted, and that would consist of needing to escape from this crowd - as he was doing, until he felt an elbow to his side and a ribbon being pulled before his eyes, in the direction of whoever was beside him. perhaps it was the moment his patience finally slipped from him, and he turned to look toward the source of the elbow.

there was an audible sigh of annoyance that came from him, and when his gaze fixed upon the woman, he did not recognise her. and perhaps he wanted to ask if she were daft, but he held his tongue instead, simply waiting. there was only moments of silence, no doubt painfully awkward. "i did not see you, my lady."

open starter

setting : matilda tyrell is present in the audience during the king's games, watching the jousting tournament occurring down below, currently a lord from the westerlands and a lord from the vale are facing off.

the sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the tournament grounds, in which matilda tyrell sat as an onlooker upon the games. her eyes alight with anticipation. a light breeze blue, causing a rippling of richly embroidered banners to flutter and wave, proclaiming the colors and sigils of noble houses. green hues peered down at the grounds below, as grand as one would expect of a tournament hosted by the westerlands. a sudden clopping of hooves caused her to nearly hold her breath in anticipation of the blow to come, and ultimately the westerlander was unseated this round.

hands came together to clap along with the crowd, leaning to the lady next to her she had chatted with since the two had found themselves in each other's company. matilda had always generally been one to make quick friends, and she was glad to find someone who was equally as social, especially with the way the crowd seemed to be quite squeezed together.

eyes glanced down, catching sight of silk shimmering in the sunlight, and hand reached down to pluck it up. it was a favor, certainly, she thought, and head turned to seek who it might belong to, catching sight of a woman who seemed to also be looking around her for something. "my lady." she called, holding up the fabric, noting it delicately embroidered with white flowers. "i believe this may be yours?" she questioned, extending her arm to the woman to return the item, being careful to try and not nudge anyone in the process, despite the close quarters.

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

nasir manderly had not been walking quietly; and even if he appeared more serious and soft-spoken than his louder younger brother, his boots were still easily audible within such a quiet chamber. the storms of winter continue to rage beyond their window, and winterfell continued to be the beating heart of the realm; though it felt fractured, ripped to shreds and to pieces - a part of him wondered if the further rise of his family would only bring more tension to the realm. not as though he cared, but rather, he measured out the risks.

"i assure you, my prince, i was not meanin' to sneak up on you." nasir spoke, as though he were pointing out the obvious; his brows furrowed ever so slightly upon noticing the appearance of the prince. his skin appeared more pale, a sheen of sweat that stuck to the hair that fell across his forehead. he appeared unwell. how was it adam stark, the giantslayer, had not heard him?

there had been a flux of madness and darkness that spread across the court: rising with noticeable disappearances of princesses, the murder of princes, and then the unsteady silence that was broken by the drunken laughter of their king. simmering with rage, before he unleashed himself upon something, or someone.

he needed to bring some order to the court once again, and yet, he knew and understood all too well that stepping into the former position of brandon karstark would be a difficult one - if not for the love the people had for the sun of winter. "but, do you need the court wisdom?" nasir asked, not hesitating to allow his obvious concern to settle upon his features. he appeared unwell, as though he had gotten the sweating sickness.

"i shall apologise for my frankness if needed, but you have had better days. what have you eaten, my prince?"

Open starter (1/3) Setting: Winterfell, The North. Princess Alysanne Stark has been declared missing. Plans for searching for and rescuing her have been discussed by the king, his council and those willing to take part in a search party.

( tw: mention of drug use )

When Cassana had been taken by the Umber bastard, Adam had begun experiencing the strange episodes. Visions of sorts, though not at all like what his sister experienced with her green sight. What he felt then, it happened... Something similar happened just a day before Alysanne went missing. A moment in time, a place, present in his mind's eye. Then it stopped. He'd not experienced anything like that another time. He even dared consume a bit more xiangliao, hoping it would awaken another episode that gave him a clue about Alys. Only silence. Only darkness.

Adam didn't say it to his siblings, but he feared that perhaps, Alysanne was no longer with them...

“Gods, you startled me,” the prince stated as a figure suddenly appeared at the corner of his eye. So deep in thought, so lost in his train of thought and what he could or couldn't envision, that he didn't even hear the other person approach him. It was unlike Adam, really. A born soldier, he was never so off guard.

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

it should have been no great feat to notice the greatest heartbreak the north could witness was that of the disintegration of stark and karstark; the wolf and sun of winter, whom had always been far more in cohesion with one another than nasir himself. "ah." it would have been easy to develop feelings of being left out, and yet, nasir understood there were differences between him and them; took comfort and understanding of it, each knowing their own place and what they brought to the table of their friendship.

"you cannot blame yourself for what happened. every pair of hands in the story were tied." how unfortunate it was, to have such a situation where there was none truly in the wrong. even lord jin, who was the topic of much rumour and discussion in the north at this time. and now it were ashes, and nasir could have tried to lie and assure the king that his closest friend did not hate him - but nasir himself would not speak on what he would not know.

"lord karstark said unjust things in anger, which he will come to understand eventually. his fury was misdirected." the question of consequences in the court of the king of winter - it was a comment that had seemingly burned into the mind of the king. and he did not blame him. "until then, some space would do the realm well."

they knew things would be different once the crown went upon the brow of owen stark; and yet, the idea of it being different to them was something that had not crossed his mind. perhaps he were naive to think such a thing, and there was quiet concern that simmered between them as owen spoke, and spoke, and spoke. the drunken words of pain and grief coming from the mouth of a man that appeared to be inclining to his worst, natural instincts.

owen was always a handful when he were drunk - abrasive, rough around the edges, all that which a northman was supposed to be. nasir's dark orbs met briefly with those of his brother when the words truly resonated with him, and it was enough to make him turn to look at the king once again. moving into the tower of the hand meant one thing; it would be up to nasir to take up the mantle of hand of the king of winter.

and others may have argued it could prove too soon after all their family had gone through, this was a moment of opportunity to grasp. with the powers of the hand of the king, nasir manderly would ensure none would dare to question the place, the authority and the influence of white harbour again. his family would adjust. "with your grace's permission, i'll see both duties done until there is enough time to grant the position of master of laws to another. it is imperative they understand the balance of the realm."

"Karstark isn't here. He hates me. I've decided to not take the head of Lord Jin for it seems counterproductive to kill my Lord Commander for thinking he was saving the Queen in the North. Not my wife. Because I do not love my wife in the way Brandon loved his wife. Or loves. Why do people say loved when they speak of the dead? I still love my mother. My father. My brother." Owen took another drink and then looked at the man. "My brother. Brandon looked at me and he questioned when the King will have consequence. My brother delivered to me with a wolf's head sewn to his body. When will I have consequence I am asked." The King was drunk. The King was angry. The King was so very tired that he wished to sleep forever.

Owen missed Brandon. He loves him. Would always love the brother he betrayed. A betrayal that would not be undone. Meera Reed was dead. Again. Brandon would mourn. He would struggle. And they would be distant. Brandon surely hated him. And if he didn't hate him ... no there was no reality where the man did not hate him. And if the man hated him then he would not be able to maintain the position he currently held.

"You won't have time to train your replacement, my lord. It'll take us time to find one. When you move into the tower of the hand you may take the time to adjust and move in your family." Owen would have to make changes to his council. Brandon Karstark hated him. There was no place for a Hand who hated his King.

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

for a while there came only the noise of the wagon moving through the narrowed lanes of kings landing, and the sound of the world that moved beyond the open window; almost as though the both of them needed the silence to reflect and consider what it was had just happened. he had little inclination of what it was that drove mankind to isolate people, to always be hunting for something or another; and yet, the dangers of it seemed to dance in the empty space between them.

"don't thank me, my lady." his voice came, slightly harsher than expected - though it was not wrapped in irritation, but rather, strain. "it happens."

nasir manderly moved his knees to ensure they did not brush against the skirts of the woman, an entire stranger to him, and yet he knew they both understood what it was they had slipped through. what they had escaped; there was no closing his eyes and trying to blind himself from the fact she looked different to the smallfolk of kings landing. and he would have stayed in the comfortable silence that filled the carriage in the aftermath of her quiet thanks quite happily, feeling his heart beating faster; perhaps because it had triggered some deeper memories of the smoke filling the grey skies of the north, and the increasingly empty settlements his horses tread through.

the harrowing faces of those who had survived, the mangled corpses, and those who remained with a label. missing. nasir manderly had survived war. but this was not a war. it had not just been a war. "the greenleafs are good people."

he had not even begun to realise his chest was tightening until it was already happening, and the exhale that came from him reminded him that he needed to breathe; and when his arm rested upon the carriage door, it was anything but casual - despite how casual it may have looked. there was a brief moment where colour seemed to drain from his features, and he felt like he could not feel himself sitting in the carriage. only inwardly reminding himself that there was safety in these four walls, even with this yuna lady sat across from him.

they could sit in silence.

he knew why he had stopped for her ; what reshuffling of fate he was trying to bestow, what he was trying to show and ask the gods. why him and his own? what reason did they have to burden his soul with such matters, despite how much they assured they never burdened a soul with more than it could take? "is there anyone i can send for to be awaiting you when we return?" he'd ask one of the guards to ride forward and pass the message along.

the lady of witch isle could feel the unstoppable wave of foolish hope flood over her as she noticed the sounds of a carriage stopping and feet landing on gravel. she was never among the smallfolk for a long period of time. nobody in her family ever was. perhaps she understood why, now. there was little safety in the unknown. fate was a fickle thing, prone to change in an instant. the wide-eyed group of people could have turned into a violent mob, leaving her as nothing more than a shell. but they were stopped in time, by an arrival of a noble unfamiliar to her.

as the lord exited his carriage, yuna observed the sigil belonging to a man who would become her saviour. a white merman with green hair. yuna recognized it, having ties to the north herself. it was the sigil of house manderly, and if she recalled correctly, the house suffered a tragedy of their own, not too long ago. she wondered if that had anything to do with his intervention. if this was his way of rearranging the cards of faith. she muttered a small "thank you" and entered the carriage, wishing to be in the safety of her four walls.

she waited until he was inside to speak. but words eluded her, so she waited until the carriage started to move. she did not know what to say, except express her thanks once again. she knew nothing about lord manderly. only the fact he would stop in the middle of a road to help a stranger. "i must thank you once more, lord manderly," she started, her voice still shaky from the shock. "my name is yuna upcliff, as i presume you heard already. royce, now." he must be the ruling lord, yuna thought. his age matched. lord nasir? she could not be sure.

she was comfortable with silence, but she did not know what the lord's opinion of it was. so she tried to make a connection, to keep the conversation going. "my mother is from the north. a greenleaf, of fir hold."

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

if someone were to ask what it was nasir manderly thought of the princess dacey stark, he would only pause with furrowed brows as though this were some trick of a question; what was their to think personally of the princess who was above his station? he had not come across an inability in performing her duty, and whilst she remained unmarried, it were not as though the north was without alliances in itself.

she was on the quieter side, but so was he generally; often the quietest of men in his surroundings, drowned out by the thunderous laughter of karstark and stark alike - judging by the ways in which the king was drowning himself in drink, those days would not come again.

there as a strangeness in the air, a sense of urgency that seemed to dance behind dormant eyes: all in the northern court knew that something had happened to the stark princesses, and yet, it were as though it were a chapter they were moving on from. because they all looked to their king for guidance, for inspiration: and there was nothing. nothing major, no major blow of emotion - damn, it appeared as though he was more pained by the fracture of his bond with brandon karstark.

he had not noticed the princess in the room until she was somehow leaving it, just as he was passing over the threshold in the presence of his younger brother; the two discussing updates to the naval fleet, considering owen's discussion with the master of ships. back to skagos, and it could be happening sooner than expected. then he remembered that it was she who was trying to follow up on leads.

"princess." nasir greeted, turning slightly on his heel as she passed to greet him. that was all he was expecting. he watched as she paused. she had thought he had called out for her. he never noticed how skittish she was around him. not once - for over a decade. he still did not. "once or twice, your highness." nasir responded, referencing the times in which the manderlys and the marbrands had met together; there was a time where the younger sons were incredibly close.

"similar to the reach, without the excessive chivalry." he did not think so - he could not recall. "go ahead, i'll join you soon." he spoke to amir, who merely nodded and moved further into the great hall.

"why?" he asked, the question genuine.

closed starter for @nasirofmanderlys

dacey was not a bold person. she had little of her siblings courage. when she entered a room, it was with her head lowered, determined not to draw attention to herself. she did not covet the feeling of eyes on her, but the last few months, though fraught with the stress of loss, had had the unintended side effect of pushing her from her comfort zone. more visible and more involved than she had perhaps ever been, she held her head a little higher these days, even if only to give the impression that she actually knew what she was doing.

however, if there was anybody guaranteed to send her scuttling from the room, gazed fixed firmly on her own feet, it was nasir manderly. it wouldn't be accurate to say dacey did not like nasir - it was just that she was very, very aware that he held little regard for her. being unnoticed wasn't something that bothered dacey much. she actually preferred that, in many ways. but nasir manderley's words, so long ago, had given her the distinct impression that he plain disliked her, and that, she found harder to deal with.

and so, she responded in the only way she knew how - by completely avoiding him. if she entered a room and saw him there, she shot to the other side of it, or made her excuses and left. it wasn't a snub, on her part - simply a desire not to force her company where it. a kindness.

and so, when she noticed nasir in this room, she was quick to say her goodbyes and take her leave. that was, until she heard someone calling her name. she turned to look for who had called out to her, but failed to spot them. what she did see was nasir, standing close enough to her that she couldn't avoid him without being rude, and looking her dead in the eye.

"lord manderly," she managed to keep her voice steady. that was about all she managed, though. her mouth opened, then closed again, her brain completely devoid of all logical thought. how long had it been since she'd last spoken to him? she had to say something. "have you been to the westerlands before?" it was good enough.