neverwheres

[neverwheres]

alon hightower

“i’d to hear your opinion on this matter,” and he makes a sweeping motion, indicating the red keep and the council within, “but i’ve tired of politics.” his mother has been keeping him in long, circling discussions that have ultimately ended in nothing but inaction. “so tell me instead how you spent the last weeks.”

"of course. i learned the art of haggling from the best." after all, how many times has alesander accompanied alon to markets while in oldtown? as a young man he used to approach it with curiosity, trying to understand a different way of life – something difficult for an ironborn, but alesander had plenty practice with rhea before. later, as their relationship developed, alesander paid less attention to the things alon talked to others and more to alon himself, to his profile, the curve of his smile when he got his way – which was always, of course.

alesander smiles at the bypass of politics; he has been done with it since he first stepped foot into the red keep, less interested in politics and more in when he could leave. he can always trust alon to not waste their time on things they could easily talk to other people about. he busies himself with pouring another dose, savoring the liquor longer this time.

"i can't say i have an interesting tale for you today, unfortunately. i've spent the past few weeks at home repairing the ships." for without them, ironborn are nothing. and what type of lord and captain would alesander be if he let his men out in the sea on a bad ship? "as much as we like to sail, we all must stay on land for some time."

he had obligations at lonely light, after all. making sure his family was fine, that his people were all hard at work and there were no incidents he had to mediate. and all of the time alesander thought only of being in the sea, with the other creatures, far deeper than any human could reach.

he imagines it now, lets his mind wander. he can see it clearly, the bottom of the ocean, calling his name. sometimes, especially when he's away from home like now, it's difficult to keep his mind from doing so. he is almost about to close his eyes and leave when he remembers where he is. "ah. i think i was daydreaming again, wasn't i?" he asks. sitting straight he drinks all his liquor at once, shaking himself awake. "lord hightower, alon," alesander says. "you must not let me just... drift like this. i'd rather not waste our time together like this."

[neverwheres]

rhaella targaryen

"I'm sure it's much more mundane than what you have at your keep." There. That was a not so subtle way to ask. 

alesander supposes he should be happy to be in the water, but the placid waters of the blackwater do nothing to him. there something about sheer force of the sea that can't be replaced – how it's moody and feisty and no one can tame it. maybe it's what alesander likes the most about it, that out in the sea there are no lords, no ladies, no smallfolk, they are all vassals to nature (and the drowned god, for the ironborn).

he pictures himself far away, at the shores of lonely light. he can see them perfectly in his mind, the waves crashing against the stones, the seals and sea lions lounging on them, eyeing humans with equal parts fascination and contempt. he would approach them as he always does, sit among them for they are one, surround himself with nature and relax.

he is almost, almost slipping away from himself. the desire is there, as it always is, and his mind is almost drifting when he hears a voice. he shakes himself awake, turning to look at princess rhaella. "my princess, what an honor." he bows in deference, wishing that she would have chosen another conversation partner. there is nothing alesander hates more than the political implications of talking to a royal. "i find it every..." he gestures towards the city. "crowded."

but she is here and he won't dare to deny her conversation, so he replies. "i wouldn't call it mundane." he tries to be careful of his words, lest he upsets her. "but i don't think anything can compare to the sea. but of course, i'm a man raised on ships, so i don't think i'm suited to evaluate such a city." he smiles at her. "are you enjoying your time here, my princess?"

[neverwheres]

alarra blackwood

“Oh!” Her first true smile of the evening appeared when he offered his coat, the gesture erasing another of her worries. “Thank you, my lord, that’s very kind.” Alarra wrapped it around herself and nestled comfortably into its warmth before crouching down beside her pet, pushing the sleeves up slightly so she could gesture for him to join her. “Would you like to pet her? She’s not quite the same as a seal, but if you’re missing home, she might make for a decent stand-in.”

alesander follows her look, at the city below. he smiles, somehow knowing that she would understand him. because they are the same, perhaps, because she too has more freedom than any human would have. "i simply cannot imagine living somewhere so crowded," he says. there are very few people in lonely light, and they prefer it that way. "there is something about the quiet of the wildness that calms me."

at her words, alesander laughs. "they are adorable, i can guarantee you that. i used to carry a little one around the shore when i was a child. the poor thing probably just wanted to be put down." he misses those days, when he could be free in the few minutes the maids would let him out – all calling him to return home, to safety and warmth of his room, away from the bad weather that could damage his lungs.

he looks at lady blackwood, at the wolf, and back at her. if lady blackwood does not understand him, then the wolf seems to do it. somehow, alesander can see that the wold knows what he is. "that would be great, thank you." he crouches besides the wolf, looking at it. what a strange animal, and yet he doesn't quite fear it as much now. "may i?" he asks to the wolf, which alesander is sure may sound strange, but he knows better than to treat a creature of nature without proper respect.

extending his arm slowly, he touches the soft fur of her head, enjoying the feeling of it under his fingertips. "what a lovely girl you are," he says to the wolf, smiling. then, he turns to lady blackwood. "you're very lucky to have such a companion, my lady. i can sense she treasures you."

[neverwheres]

closed starter for lord doran swann (@intheweirwood) day third of the council meeting

alesander is a lord, it's what they call him inland.

there, out at the sea, he's a captain and he's a king in his ship. in the iron islands they don't even call him lord, as it's their tradition. he's the farwynd and he's happy about it. but he's not at the sea or back home, he's leaving the red keep to wander around the city, not interested in what entertainment the targaryens may have arranged for the guests.

kings landing is stuffy and so crowded, especially when compared to lonely light. there, only the few strong survive. here, people crowd every corner, every crevice of the city. he imagines how it would be, to live somewhere like this, with no moment of peace, with no moment of true silence. he would go crazy, that much is sure.

he is going crazy on his third day inland. he wants to go back, but of course he can't. he's a lord and lords have duties and his is to stay in this wretched city until the whole thing is over.

and so, because alesander needs to at least be able to breathe, he drinks. not with the lords in their chambers, but at some tavern surrounded by commonfolk. he doesn't look like a lord, but he looks every bit ironborn – he can see it in the way they look at him.

when someone bumps into him, spilling his drink all over the counter, alesander turns around. "you–" he stops, recognizing who stands in front of him. "you," he repeats, hands already itching to throw a punch. "lord swann, i didn't think i'd find you here." although of course he should, it's the only type of place where they meet.

[neverwheres]

Lewis Tan as Gaius Chau in Into the Badlands 3x05 

[neverwheres]

talla lannister

“ you have aged like the finest arbor wine, lord farwynd. i will not lie, i am delighted to see you here. “

over the years, alesander learned to take talla redwyne from his mind, to forget every memory of her. and how sweet they were, of all those years of childish dreams and promises, of imagining a life together that would never happen. he knew and yet he allowed himself to dream, to wish she was his.

but she's not, she's a lannister now.

she is a lannister and still as beautiful as the first day he saw. or even more, now that she has grown into a woman. no longer the shy girl that would go after him in castle halls and drag him away to places where they could be together.

"thank you, my lady," he bows his head to her in acknowledgement, keeping his distance. she is not his to be close, even though that's all alesander wants to do. "you look as beautiful as always."

talla surely can see every emotion ins his eyes, but alesander doesn't mind it, not with her. "tell me, how have the years treated you, my lady?" he asks, although what he truly wants to ask is are you happy? does he treat you well? do you love him? he doesn't love her, not anymore, but he doesn't know how he would feel knowing that talla fully loves her husband, that she lives the life they wanted for themselves. "it's been so long since we last saw each other."

[neverwheres]

alon hightower

“what have you brought me? rum? spiced liquor? surely something less pedestrian than the wine i’ve been pried with all evening.” the chairs are angled towards one another, but he drags his closer to the other before he sits. quite suddenly he feels glad for the lack of daylight that falls into this part of the room, for it means they won’t be watched by even the most curious of witnesses.

alesander listens to alon, laughing at his words. maybe other people would believe him, but alesander knows him better than anyone, can see through his every lie. he leaves the bottle on a table, taking off his coat and placing it on the back of a chair. "why, lord hightower, you wound me," he says, turning to alon. "do you think i don't know you enough to know your refined tastes?"

they've known each other for so long and never has alesander seen alon not surrounded by beauty. beautiful clothes, a beautiful sword that he has used maybe once on his hip, beautiful jewelry, beautiful people surrounding him. he wonders what exactly of beauty does alon see in him, what makes him shine in lord hightower's eyes.

"no, i bring you tyroshi pear brandy." he presents the bottle with a mocking flourish of his hands, sitting down. "bought it at the markets two days ago. it's supposedly the real deal and the seller haggled for what seemed like hours." alesander rolls his eyes as he pours both of them the brandy. "had it happened somewhere else i would have killed him for wasting my time, but i suppose one must pay the gold price when among dragons."

and how boring that is, alesander thinks. how much easier would it be to pay the iron price, take what you want, fight for what you want. but alas, he's trapped here, in these bothersome costumes. he raises his glass on a toast. "to our joyous reunion." he smiles at alon and it's almost genuine. joyous is not exactly the word he would use. he takes a sip, shrugging. "not bad. but i hope it is to your liking, my lord."

[neverwheres]

alarra blackwood

“No one ever does. But I found her after she wandered from her den as a pup and couldn’t leave her behind. We’ve been together ever since.” A pause, then a swift redirection intended to draw attention away from her. “Do you have any pets, my lord?” 

alesander continues staring at her, he can't bring himself to stop. of course it's not the proper thing to do, but nothing about this situation is proper. "overwhelming is a way to put it," he says, looking over at the city again. how much he years to be in the sea, away from everything and everyone, one with the water. does she want something similar? "i'm not used to being on land for so long." alesander offers a part of himself hoping that she will do so too.

"that surely is quite unusual," he muses, looking at the wolf. of course he's nervous, that is a predator. but a part of himself is excited and alesander finds himself hiding his hand behind his back so he won't do something stupid like reaching out and trying to pet the wolf. it wouldn't look very good for an ironborn to lose his hand in such manner.

"unfortunately we do not have many animals that could be turned into pets in lonely light," he adds. "unless you count the seals, of course. lovely animals if you keep your distance." which he never had, even as a child. many times had alesander woken up among them on the beach, nearly drowning. he wonders if the same happened to her.

"but where are my manners!" alesander notes, taking his coat off. "here, my lady, wear this, it's a cold night." he passes her his coat, making a point of not looking at her. instead, he looks at the wolf again, trying to make himself more at ease with its presence.

[neverwheres]

closed starter for lord alon hightower (@melicos) at the last day of the council meeting

alesander's steps echo through the empty corridors, not even a servant to be seen. of course not, all the other lords and ladies are busy somewhere else – in the gardens, feasting, engaged in conversation and games and their own personal agendas. all but one. and alesander noticed it, as he always does, because at this point in his life it's a second instinct when they are in the same place, to enter a room and search for alon. not for comfort, not in public, but for assurance, that alon is there, that alon would turn to look at him and offer a polite smile and know that alesander is looking at him.

he should not be doing this, as he shouldn't have done many things in his life, but he did them anyway because he's ironborn and they're moved like the sea – unpredictable and moody and fierce. if they want something, they'll go and take it, and if it ends badly at least they fought. farwynds may be called odd, or mad, but they're still forged by the drowned god, the desire to take is always there in their blood.

and does he desire alon hightower.

he shouldn't, of course, but they've been over that for years and by now there is no guilt – if there ever was – just a feeling he can't understand. not love, or not entirely, but something ugly that claws at his chest, demanding to be let out. it's like skinchanging, when he's himself and also not, when he's himself but also something else entirely.

he knocks at lord hightower's door, a bottle in hand, and smiles when it's open. "tired of the festivities already, my lord?" alesander asks. then, he raises the bottle, eyes shining with malice. "fear not, i brought them to you." he pushes past to enter, knowing he will not be denied. they didn't invite each other to their lives, but by now they don't know how to leave.

[neverwheres]

alesander can't help but stare at her. he keeps his eyes on her face, searching for – what? he doesn't know. does she know what she was doing? even if she did, she would not tell him. after all, alesander knows that is not something one goes around telling as if it's a funny story. realizing he's been staring for a while, he offers her a smile. "of course, my lady," he says. "you didn't startle me at all, i was just..." he gestures towards the night, miles of city on the horizon. "taking some fresh air."

it's as good of a lie as if he can muster right now, rattled by the knowledge that what he had been doing, she was the same. alesander wants to ask, to tell her, to say i know, i know, but what good would that make? farwynds are known as mad, she'd think him too if he said a word about it.

he knows he is staring again, but he can't help it. he never imagined he would know someone like him, not out of the pages of the old tomes he found at his home's library. there is so much he wants to ask, and yet he doesn't dare to make the first move. instead, he shakes himself off the daze he's in, looking at the wolf instead. "i'm sorry but... it's that your pet?" he asks. "i never imagined a lady would have a wolf for a pet." or that she would turn into one, but that part he keeps to himself.

Alarra woke with a start, heart pounding as her head jerked back. Her body felt too heavy suddenly, bogged down with extra weight, and she lifted a hand to steady herself against the wall. “Lord Farwynd?” She blinked at him, dark eyes adjusting to the dim light, confusion wrinkling her brow. It was with something akin to horror that she realized her dream had not been a dream at all. She hadn’t imagined running through the grass or spinning care-free beneath the moon, unbound by the confines and constant noise of the Red Keep. She’d done it. Again. 

“I– I’m sorry, I must have been sleep-walking...” Alarra, who had never been good at lying, floundered as she struggled to come back to and explain herself all at once. A lady had no business wandering the grounds in her nightgown and bare feet, even accompanied by a wolf. It was dangerous and strange, and only stood to be more so if someone understood the truth of it – that she was not accompanied by a wolf. She was one, however temporarily, wrapped up warm inside the fur and body of the animal that now stood between her and the ironborn lord. 

“I’m afraid it is a bad habit I inherited from my mother,” she finally said with a forced laugh. It was true enough. Whatever this was, whatever allowed her to enter her wolf and compelled her body to follow, zombie-like, was the same madness that plagued her mother. And at this rate, uncontrolled, it would take her too. “I hope I didn’t startle you.”

[neverwheres]

I think sitting on the floor of the ocean for a few hours would fix me

[neverwheres]

closed starter for lady erena reed (@bogdevl) at the second day of the council meeting

at least he's in the water now, alesader thinks as he looks at the blackwater, its calm waters taking their boat without a problem. it's nothing like the sea, of course, not like being in the middle of the crashing waves, not knowing if the drowned god will bless him with a safe return home. they call farwynds mad, and alesander must be if he misses the uncertainty that much.

once again he wishes he was somewhere else, anywhere, but trapped at kings landing, unwillingly part of political machinations he's sure will cost lives. he looks at the water and wishes he could just disappear miles away, back to lonely light, the shores, to the minds of animals.

but, as he looks at his side, he knows he can't. it's one thing to be deemed odd, it's another to try his luck and do it right here in the open. farwynds are strange, not stupid. he turns to his companion, and for once is happy that whoever organized this journey decided to put them on the same boat.

"tell me, lady reed," he says. "what do you think of the blackwater? doesn't it look too... calm?" something tells him that lady reed will understand him better than most ever could.

[neverwheres]

closed starter for lady alarra blackwood (@intheweirwood) — day one of the council meeting

there is nothing alesander hates more than this – land. no matter where he looks, miles and miles of land (and people) stand in front of him, suffocating him in its immutability. he can't imagine a life like this, away from water, from its ever changing nature. he misses the saltiness of the air of the iron islands, the sturdiness of their people. here, everyone seems too soft, to noble.

he shouldn't leave his room in the red keep in the middle of the night, risk being seen, but he can't stand the closed room and the stillness of the night, away from the noise of the crashing waves. he shouldn't, but he wants and the iron born are men who always take what they want.

it's not hard to find a secluded corner outside, somewhere where he can feel the night breeze on his face. he takes a deep breath to calm himself and pictures lonely light, sea against the rocks, sea lions on its shores, unbothered at first, but deadly if approached. he shouldn't do this here, miles away from home, in the open, but he needs to be in the sea, deeper than any human can go.

it's easy now, to lean against the wall, close his eyes and slip out of himself until he's in the sea, swimming among sea lions, one of them. he's something else now, a creature, unbound by human's laws, free. until he feels it, a predator near his human body.

he opens his eyes and sees it, a wolf. hand going to the dagger on his hip, alesander is about to unsheathe it when he sees her, a woman. and he knows, he knows. this, her, scares him more than the wolf and for a moment he doesn't say anything, only studies her. but it wouldn't be good for them to be seen like this here, more so for her, so alesander clears his throat, calls her softly "lady alarra," and hopes it's the right thing to do. no one ever woke him up when he was in his trance. "lady alarra, wake up."

[neverwheres]

*  ♔  ◟     (   lewis tan,   thirty seven,   cis man,   he/him)     the  capital  of  king’s  landing  welcomes  alesander of  house farwynd,  the  ruling lord  of  lonely light.  news  borne  by  raven  sends  word  that  they  are  reputed  to  be  kind,  but  with  the  eyes  of  court  watching  their  every  move,  they  might  prove  to  be  stubborn.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of the sea at early morning + the sound of creaking wood of an old ship + the rustling of book pages being turned  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  the ironborn and his house,  where  they  conspire  to  improve his house's social standing.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones. 

BASICS

name: alesander farwynd / age: thirty seven / title: ruling lord of lonely light / gender & pronouns: cis man, he/him / relationship status: widower

PHYSICAL

height: 187 cm (6'1'') / eyes: dark brown / scars: multiple on his arms and torso

ABILITIES

aside from being a very good sailor and warrior as expected from an ironborn, alesander is a skinchanger, able to enter the minds of sea lions. he spent most of his teens and twenties learning how to control the ability thanks to old tomes he found in lonely light's library. nowadays he can do it easily, although he does it only when he's alone and for brief periods of time.

BACKGROUND

first born of house farwynd, alesander was a frail, sicken child who spent most of his time inside. as lord farwynd had no other heirs at the time it was important to make sure little alesander would survive into adulthood.

that is when the dreams of the sea and swimming started, but he would not understand what they meant until later.

his health improved with the time, and as alesander grew up he took a love for the sea, spending most of his time at the shores of lonely light, learning how to swim and how to sail, becoming a very capable sailor.

married young to rhea hightower, his wife died in a shipwreck a few years later. alesander knows that it's up to him to continue the farwynd lineage, but with his house's fame he knows it won't be easy to find suitable marriages for himself + his siblings.

as with all farwynd, alesander is considered an odd person, spending most of his time in solitude. although he can be well spoken and charming when he wants to, he hides behind his family's reputation when he doesn't feel like engaging in small talk with other noblemen.

[neverwheres]

[neverwheres]

Lewis Tan as  Tolya Yul-Bataar in Shadow and Bone s2epo1

[neverwheres]

neverwheres. dependent blog for asobai, penned by lei. featuring:

alesander farwynd, ruling lord of lonely light intro - visual - inspiration - pinterest