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[ofsaintsnsinners]

[ofsaintsnsinners]

Maraiya loved sex, there was no doubt about it. It wasn’t her main passion, no, indeed, the wide, large world and life itself had much more to offer than just that activity alone. However, there was no denying it was one of her favourite past-times to indulge in every now and then, especially since it was held in such a high regard and importance in her culture. From the moment she had been old enough to be taught the ways on how to explore both her sensuality and sexuality, she had been a passionate and avid learner of the intricate craft of carnal acts and desires and half the time, it was also lovemaking, when one had more deeper feelings than just steamy sexual attraction to the other. She had been one of the most skilled princesses to have served in one of the main temples of love in Jhala and if not for her adventurous spirit and main passion of exploration taking precedence in her life, there was a possibility she might have followed her second eldest sister’s footsteps in becoming a priestess to the either the goddess of love or the goddess of sensuality.

However for all of her many sexual affairs, exploits, little quick romps, she had been very careful to not get impregnated. Having a child was a heavy responsibility and she was having far too much independent fun enjoying her globe-trotting adventures to actually ever settle down. Fate it seemed had a different plan for her when she got together with Tristan Vance. Things had started innocently at first with them becoming genuine friends after a particular incident during his time with The Golden Company, but there was not mistaking the sparks of attraction and sexual tension growing between them and it wasn’t long before they both eventually ended up in bed together. He had been one of her favorite lovers for a time, for there had seemed to be something deeper, more towards a romantic vein between them and he even seemed to be slowly opening up to that idea before he suddenly got into jitters about it and distanced himself away from her. The way he ran away so fast from it did hurt her feelings slightly, but being who she was, a person that always believed that life was too short for regrets or self-pity, she got over it quite quickly. Their relationship was brief and she had thoroughly enjoyed it while it lasted. He didn’t want to commit to something deeper and she wasn’t in love with him just yet, so they were both free to part ways on more than amicable terms and remain friends. It was all smooth and easy.

Except that it turned out, her entanglement with Tristan had left her with a lot more than just fond memories. Nine months later, as she held her precious and cherubic baby boy in her arms, Maraiya vowed sacredly that her child would always be kept safe, healthy, happy and very-well loved. And by the gods, she would do everything in her power to maintain that kind of life for him. 

Which was why she now found herself wrapped up in several layers of furs, arms crossed, head cocked sideways as she surveyed the current ruling Lord of Wayfarer’s Rest with pursed lips and a rather deprecating expression in her wide, startlingly-blue eyes. She was too annoyed with Tristan to even do a brief incline of her head back in polite greeting.

“Oh your son?” she answered dryly. “Our child, has a name, Tristan,” she reminded him, her tone slightly indignant. “..-Or have you forgotten his name as well already by now?” she mocked slightly. “And no he isn’t well, he is suffering. And when my darling boy suffers, I suffer even more on his behalf. Hence, I guess you could say, we are both NOT FINE. “ Maraiya could tell that she was veering of to being a tiny bit dramatic, but as worried and upset single parent, she had every right to be presently.

@ofsaintsnsinners​

Tristan was many things. A lord. A brother. A son. He had been known by many roles in his life, and had utterly failed at all of them. The walls he built around himself were high, and to date, only a select few had been able to breach them, however temporarily before he flitted out of their lives once more. 

All of these failures, but there was one that stuck out as the biggest, the worst. The role of the father. Tristan had never seen himself with children, and over the last few years, since the birth of the son he hardly knew, it was clear why. It wasn’t the responsibility of it. At least there, he could say he wasn’t shirking his duties. He had always provided financial support where he could, but it wasn’t enough, and he knew it. But then, how could you give so much of yourself to somebody, when nobody had done the same for you? 

None of his explanations for how he had acted came to mind now though. How could he even begin to tell Maraiya all that was on his mind? there was no way of going about it that did not involve disrespecting all she had done, so instead, Tristan shuffled from one awkward foot to another, nodded his head in greeting, and opened his mouth to speak. 

“You look well,” he began, somewhat lamely. “Is all well with… with the child? And with you?”

[ofsaintsnsinners]

[ofsaintsnsinners]

His troubling thoughts about all his problems back home, which had not left his mind for weeks, not even with a change of scenery and environment, was momentarily disrupted when he suddenly felt an bitterly-icy hand upon his face. He let out a surprised cry of alarm, jumping away in shock before he noticed who it was. “F-..--Cassandra! What on earth was that for??!” he half-shouted, upset, before he could control himself nor realize how he was acting. His nerves and patience were running on thinning ice nowadays, the stress and pressure building up within him had made him very unlike his more usual self. His usual self would have heard, nay, have even felt the presence of his beloved wife before she even spoke. However this time around, Willmiere, lovingly nicknamed Will, by his closest and dearest, hadn’t even heard her first few sentences nor had he felt her hand till much later, just right before she withdrew it. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he murmured contritely. “I had too much on my mind earlier. However I still shouldn’t have reacted the way I did,” he apologized. His  wonderful wife, the absolute love of his life, was the last person to deserve any negative results of his current stress. Will then sat down next to her and took her cold hands into his large ones. He rubbed them over a number of times before bringing them up to his lips, kissing the back of her hands before attempting to blow hot air from his mouth to her slender fingers. “Despite the lock down, I’ll try to find a way to purchase more furs for you and the children, first thing on the morrow,” he promised.

@ofsaintsnsinners​

Cassandra knew she had been blessed. Too few women could boast that they genuinely loved their husband, but for her, she worshipped the very ground Willmiere walked upon, and had done since the moment they had met. She knew that what they had, and the life they had built together with their children, was special, and most of the time, she knew that it was worth everything she had given up. 

Still, things hadn’t exactly been easy of late. As much as he told her not to worry, Cassandra couldn’t help but do anything but. There was a weariness that hung around him that she simply wasn’t used to, and that had knotted itself into an anxiety that rested in the pit of her stomach. She had so many questions for him - questions that remained on the tip of her tongue for fear of what the answer would be. 

Still, perhaps in Winterfell, away from home for so long, they could get to the bottom of things? If there was any way of getting their marriage back to where it was, this was it. So for the moment, Cassandra put aside all worries of poison and fires, ensured her children were safely tucked away for the night, and set her mind upon giving WIllmiere her undivided attention. 

“It’s cold,” she announced, pressing an icy hand to his cheek with a devilish grin. “I thought there were supposed to be springs that heat the castle, but I think they must be broken. If not, I dread to think what it would be like without them.” Cassandra slowly withdrew her hand, dropping it to rest in her lap. “I fear we’ll have worn through our furs before we get home. I don’t think my Winter wardrobe has ever seen so much wear.” 

[ofsaintsnsinners]

Logan Browning for Essence [x]

[ofsaintsnsinners]

Even though she wasn’t from Westeros, with her many, many years of travelling, as well as her talented memory -  ( Maraiya was one to never forget a name or a face she had either seen or heard of before ) and with someone as well known as the Targaryen king, it would have been impossible for Maraiya to not know the identity of the man was currently in Winterfell’s Godswood. “She smiled cheerfully. “It’s quite allright, your majesty. It is I, who should be asking for forgiveness then, for interrupting your peaceful joy in admiring this place,” she looked around in awe for a moment upon the end of her sentence, before bending her head lightly downards in a contrite manner. “I sincerely apologize,” she uttered before looking up and around their surroundings again. “It is truly an astounding place. I have visited many religious sanctuaries and I can safely say that this is one of the most impressive ones thus far,” Maraiya commented before plucking a fallen blood-red leaf off the ground. “One indeed has to marvel at the extraordinary nature of the Weirwood tree in particular.”

who: aegon targaryen & anyone  ( @brokenstarters​ )  when: a few days after king edric stark’s coronation  where: the godswood, winterfell

lost  in  thought  (  a  phenomena  becoming  more  &  more  frequent  in  the  passing  days  ) aegon  targaryen ,  seventh  of  his  name , wandered  winterfell’s  godswood.  beneath  the night  black  as  velvet  &  the  canopy  of  leaves  red  as  blood ,  his  mind  ran  through  the history  contained  within  these  three  acres. it  was  said  that  brandon  the  builder  built winterfell  to  surround  this  ancient  grove,  that  torrhen  stark  bent  the  knee  to  the  first aegon  targaryen  here. prince  jacaerys  velaryon  married  sara  snow  before  the  heart  tree during  the  dance  of  dragons. 

further  tales ( contested  as  they  might  be  by  the  more  skeptical  of  maesters  ) suggested  that  if  one  stood  still  enough, they  could  hear  the  weirwoods  whisper  secrets,  tell  men  of  their  hearts  desire.  now ,  before  the  great  heart  tree  at  the  center  of  the  wood,  only one  thing  stood  out  in  aegon’s  mind  —  there  was  already  one  king  who  knelt.  why  not  another ?

the  southern  king  was  interrupted  from  his  musings  once  he  heard  someone  call  his  name.  he  lifted  his head  from  the  clouded  dreams  within  his  mind  &  turned  to  face them. “ ah ,  forgive  me. i  did  not  hear  you. ”  his  voice  calm  &  even ,  hands  folded  behind  his  back. his eyes flickered back to the red  “  the  godswood  of  winterfell  is  an  incredible  place ,  is  it  not ? ”

[ofsaintsnsinners]

“I’m afraid that I’m more of a wine-person and I am actually in a great need of something stronger than mead, however,  I’ll take whatever I can get at this point,” responded Maraiya before she let out a loud exhale. It was a very rare thing to see Maraiya vexed or even exhausted. To everyone who knew her, such adjectives hardly ever existed in her dictionary of various languages nor was it present in her being. However the day’s events had indeed both frustrated and slightly tired out the usually upbeat princess. Two long and heavy meetings - ; one,  with the Northern investigators who had heavily sat her down for a very thorough questioning ; and another with the biological father of her son. Both of which had taken a bit of toll on the usually vivacious female. “Only merely more than enough for two?” she smiled amusedly. “I honestly thank ye kind sir, but do keep your jug, for that shan’t be enough for me. Especially if it’s just mead,” she chuckled, before walking to a corner of the hall where more jugs were ready laid in wait to be drunk empty. Picking up one, she then slowly drank from the heavy jug itself, not bothering at all to look around for a tankard,  as she walked back towards where the noble man was. Upon reaching him, she then held out her jug slightly and smiled amiably,” So, what should we toast to?” she asked, even though her jug was already half-empty by now. Mead, in her personal opinion was a very weak alcoholic beverage and most certainly would not get her drunk. Wine, beer, heavy moonshine, or sometimes, even rum, despite her experiences as as a master sailor for many years now,  could do the trick. But mead?? Most certainly not.

@brokenstarters​

Location: Winterfell Long Hall Open: Everyone

While most had filed out of the long hall hours ago, Eivor still sat with a mug of mead in hand. A large fire raged on in front of his chair, his feet propped close to it. His dark blue hues flickering in the light of the burning wood. Mind racing over the events of the past few days. He could not put his finger on one possible suspect for what had happened. There was always a reason to start a war. Especially if one looked hard enough. His mind crawled over old memories of blood soaked fields and the screams of dying men. Gods, he did not want to return to war times. These young ones did not understand the damage those times could cause. Not only to those lost but those left behind. Eivor would, of course, fight for his King and Queen when called on but he was tired. 

Perhaps peace had simply become more comfortable. 

Shaking his head, Eivor lifted his cup of mead to his lips and took a long drink from the edge of the mug. While the mead of Winterfell was better than most, nothing compared to what they brewed on the Ice Coast. That drink made boys into men. He had expected to spent some time in Winterfell on this trip but it seemed now that he would be longing for home before getting back to it. Not that it really bothered him too much. If something were to happen here, Eivor wanted to be on stand by to protect the Northern figure heads. 

Thought withdrew and Eivor came back into the moment as the door behind him opened slowly and let a gust of cool air into the long hall. He turned to see who might be coming to join him for a drink. Holding up the jug of mead that sat at his feet, Eivor gave the other a smile. “I have more than enough for two.” He offered shaking the jug just a bit as a greeting. 

[ofsaintsnsinners]

Will had never really been a religious man. And if he were, it would have been the Seven which would hold his loyalty and undivided faith, not the religion of the North or the Iron Islandsn or anywhere else, due to his upbringing. However now having long practiced and slowly but surely, mastered the art of diplomacy as a ruling Lord ( in order to acquire the respect, solid connections and support of his fellow lords) ,  he learned to keep his mouth shut when necessary and this was indeed one of those instances when he chanced upon a fellow Southerner who was proclaiming his seeming devotion to the Old Gods.  “I hate to say it, but yes,  I am regrettably lost,” Will grimaced. He hated being confused and not knowing his way around more than anything, and was at the moment rather cross with himself. “I had thought I had seen someone dear whom I have not have the chance to meet for a very long time, but as I followed them, I soon found myself mistaken and also at a frustrating confusion as to how to make my way back,” he explained in a vexed voice.

open starter @brokenstarters​ | smol starters

“I find peace in the old Gods. I’ve notice many people coming here to plot and hide but you can’t hide from the Old ones. They’re always watching, all around us.” Anthor would proudly say he was a man of the Rock but he found a strange peace when sitting in the Godswood. Peace and privacy. “Are you lost? Or, more surprisingly, were you looking for me?” He rose from the ground, dusting off his trousers, “either way, I can help you or leave you to your privacy.” 

[ofsaintsnsinners]

Lord Willmiere Seaworth shifted slightly from his original position in order to make a respectful bow to the Northern princess but other than that, he did not move forward nor backwards. He shook his head and smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid I’d have to decline your generous offer, your highness. Sword-play, or to be more exact, sword-fighting was never my forte. That honor actually belongs to my younger sister,” he grinned wryly. Truly, his parents had to have the most vexing time trying to rein in all three of their wild and rambunctious children, he reflected inwardly as a memory from his childhood flitted across his mind. Will only truly understood what his parents felt as well as their struggles and fears when he himself finally became a parent. “After I’ve seen your display of your capabilities, and , that itself, was only for a short moment, I am confident that you would be horrifically disappointed in what combat skills I have to offer,” he chuckled slightly. “I’d be a much better audience than a sparring partner,” he concluded. 

who: princess joanna stark & anyone!  ( @brokenstarters​ ) when: the morning after king edric stark’s coronation where: the training yard, winterfell

joanna rose before the sun that morning , her mind still lingering on the event of edric’s coronation. how could it not ? someone had made an attempt on her brother’s life in their own home. winterfell was the place for starks - the place to keep the pack safe. it was the south was dangerous, where the good lords & ladies would welcome you to their home one moment & thrust a dagger through your heart the next. 

the same good lords & ladies that now resided within these halls, plotting her family’s downfall behind closed doors. 

it was why she found herself in the training yard now, swinging her sword at the practice dummies. a vain attempt at pulling her thoughts away from the horrible events of last night & to focus. on what, she wasn’t sure. that would come later. now, she whirled around the yard, her moves careful and deliberate. it was a dance , almost. instead of a lord or lady in her arms it was her steel. instead of embroidered slippers and a ballroom, there were her leather boots, and the clouds of grey dust that billowed in the sky whenever she leapt or knicked.  

joanna spun around, bringing her blade atop the head of a training dummy. “ sorry old fellow. it was nothing personal. but in my defense you were in my way. ” joanna laughed and pried her sword out of the splintered wood. beneath a cloud of dark curls, she saw that someone was watching her.  “care to join me ? i’d love some more practice.” joanna grinned at her audience of one. “ or are you intent on simply watching? ”

[ofsaintsnsinners]

[ofsaintsnsinners]

south of westeros, cradled in the deep blue waters of the summer sea, the summer isles bask in the warm southern sun. more than fifty islands make up this verdant archipelago. the summer islanders have never once invaded any lands beyond their own shores nor attempted the conquest of any foreign people. their great swan ships sail farther and faster than the vessels of any other nation, to the very ends of the earth, yet the princes of the summer islands have no warships as such and seem to prefer trade and exploration to conquest. each of the smaller islands has its own ruler, styled as a prince or princess in the common tongue; the larger islands, jhala, omboru, and walano, oft have several rival princes.

— the world of ice and fire

asoiaf meme: cultures | the summer islanders

[ofsaintsnsinners]

Dan Jeannotte as James Stuart in Reign s3 & s4 (x6)

[ofsaintsnsinners]

the courts offer bread and salt to maraiya qo of house qo. many say that the thirty one year old princess of sweet lotus vale  is known to be loving and open-minded, though ill tongues whisper that she is mischievous and impulsive. when her name is uttered , one is reminded of ; shrieking and joyful golden laughter, ; a highly curious mind,  ; mass of unruly and exuberant curls and grins, ; a swan-shaped sail-boat, ; a doting and warm mother, ; a whirlwind of spirited and adventurous spunk. may she be blessed and protected in this war of crowns. ( fc: logan browning )  

Her backstory: 

Born the youngest of 3 sisters in Sweet Lotus Valley as a princess of the ruling house of Qo, in the island Jhala, Maraiya had a very happy, extremely safe, enjoyable life. However that wasn't enough for my high-spirited, highly inquisitive, restless and very mischievous girl who was a true EXPLORER at heart like some of the Summer Islanders were, and once she had explored all she could from all of the islands available in the Summer Isles, she left home at 18 - becoming a globe-trotting sailor explorer.  Maraiya wasn't content to just live out the rest of her life peacefully, only having knowledge of the Summer Isles like her sisters and most people she knew did. There had to be more out there in the world to learn of and experience of. She took part time jobs here and there when her money ran out in between her travels so she was really a modern backpacker in a way. She was independent and didn't mind the hard work because in her mind, it gave her more of a chance to really experience the different cultures & way of life of the people from each different realm/ land she visited. And with her willful, mischievous, highly sensual and sexual nature, you can bet she had some dirty fun too at each place. 

Having all these years of exploration and soaking up knowledge and practical & cultural skills from first hand experience, Maraiya could now be said to be known to several people as a master sailor, expert swimmer, determined explorer with an encyclopedia of knowledge in both her brains and limbs. She has a pretty photographic memory too for she rarely ever forgets a face, name or place that she has seen and/or heard of before. 

Maraiya is definitely a force to be reckoned with as well as a sassy, blunt and never-ending ball of sunshine energy. She’s also very warm, engaging and unrestrained ( read: doesn’t know the meaning of personal space or embarrassment/ awkwardness . i apologize in advance XD ) With her very open mind and patience, it is rare for anyone to be the subject of Maraiya’s ire or real anger,.... unless, it has to do with the wellbeing of her precious son - to which at the moment, she is very thoroughly annoyed and a bit upset with Tristan Vance for not being a proper parent to her beloved little boy.  Even though, she’s still very much her own person and does whatever she wants, damn the consequences asdfghjk  BUT, eversince she became a ( single ) mother over the past few years, she's reigned down her willfulness slightly as she takes her responsibilities of a doting and v protective momma bear seriously, so when it comes to son, she does think twice about some of her actions that might negatively impact him and pulls back a little from being rash.

She doesn’t really believe nor entertain the idea of marriage. Why settle down with only one person in one place for the rest of your life, when you can be living your best life with getting to know different types of partners from a variety of places, on different levels,  and most importantly enjoying the different carnal acts / deliciously euphoric pleasures of the flesh with a variety of sexually explorative companions? Hence, Maraiya is very much a modern-day polyamorous kind of person. 

She isn’t your typical princess / nor does she exhibits the kind of behaviours one would expect of a princess, so it would come as a surprise to those who eventually knows that she is a princess. She's not hiding anything, she just doesn't advertise it. If one sticks around long enough to form long conversations with her or swap life stories, they could find out soon enough as she is a pretty honest person. ( except if she is planning to play a harmless prank or joke on you ) Maraiya still occasionally keeps in contact with her family and friends back home, about once a year with letters.

[ofsaintsnsinners]

“My people hold that there is no shame to be found in the pillow house. In the Summer Isles, those who are skilled at giving pleasure are greatly esteemed. Many highborn youths and maidens serve for a few years after their flowerings, to honor the gods.” // Stephanie Levi-John as Chataya