#i. trystane allyrion — with wyllas caron.

[crvwnfought]

with  wyllas  caron    /    @flvvrpetals​ where:   the library at staerdale.

       the  library  had  seen  more  of  the allyrion lord than any other room in staerdale, including his own chambers. it was here and here alone that he could seize even a momentary escape from the rest of his life. he’d been a fool to think matters would be more quiet in new valyria as long as he avoided one person, a task he’d already failed at, but now rumors filled the halls, stalking him wherever he went, and trystane wished he could disappear once and for all. the quiet corner of the library, entirely out of sight, was the best - his only safe haven. he didn’t even look up at the sound of footsteps; many had walked past over the days, but he’d chosen this spot for how hidden it was. only this time the person didn’t walk past. the chair opposite of him was pulled out. trystane looked up from his book and froze. get up. get up now and go. but wyllas caron’s gaze held him in place.

[flvvrpetals]

𝖒𝖎𝖉𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 | solo flashback thread.

a look into when wyllas caron first knew he loved trystane allyrion. | takes place about fourteen years ago from present day.  ( @crvwnfought​ )

“ do not return until you are ready to be our son, wyllas.” 

 eyes watch from a crack in the door, little fingers peeping out to reveal their hiding spot. the man pauses in his departure, glancing towards where he knew the other girl stood. words rest uneasy in his mouth, aware he should say something. he does not. swallows down any parting peace he may have given his sister, gaze returning forward as he departs their childhood home. lightning strikes him down. 

two years later.

the dream startles the man awake, heart pounding against chest as if it was a drum. his eyes open to stare at the night sky above him, counting dotted stars till he is no longer fighting to breathe. wyllas would bet all he had that the constellations looked more beautiful in dorne than in nightsong. patterns that had no name to him before someone had taught him them. 

the man rolls to his side, gaze seeking out the shape of his companion across the campfire. relief fills his body as he confirms that his night terror did not stir them awake, not yet ready to confess why he never spoke of his family. why there was a small bundle of unsent letters in his bag tightly wrapped with string.

with no one awake to catch him, wyllas allows himself to drift off back to sleep, comforted by the rise and fall of the man’s chest. 

hours later. 

“ an ocean is an ocean, trystane, i do not truly think it matters where it begins.” 

 the words draw out a laugh from the taller man that reminds wyllas of two swords clashing against each other, mesmerizing. he hangs embarrassingly onto every word trystane says, listening to the man explain the legend of starfall as they ride. 

silence rests comfortably between them once trystane finishes speaking, smile on his lips. it is a struggle to not let his eyes linger on the other’s body, to not be caught staring at trystane. a piece of him whispers that the man already knows his thoughts. that the way he holds himself higher on his horse, shirt unbuttoned in the heat, is all a performance for the caron. much like how wyllas insisted nightly on building their fire, so that he may bask in the feel of trystane peering at him over his book. dark eyes warming his body far more than any flame ever could. 

they talk each night till trystane begins to yawn, politely bidding each other a good night. wyllas has to bite his tongue from asking him to share the bed roll each time. not daring enough to cross the divide between them, to give credence to his own desire, to claim trystane as his own. he wonders if there is disappointment in the man’s eyes when wyllas simply smiles and retires to his side of the fire, or if the light makes him see things. 

“ wyllas, do you see it? the summer sea.” 

words break through his day dreaming, coming to to see that trystane has briefly claimed the lead, glancing over his shoulder at wyllas with a look that knocks any air out of his lungs. it is a dangerous look. he forces himself to focus on the horizon in front of them, the light reflecting off the sea somehow feels less blinding than trystane’s smile. 

“ let’s race. “

wyllas does not wait for a response before he is pushing his horse to rush forward, passing trystane easily and heading straight for water in the distance. there is a sound of disgruntlement from behind him, but wyllas’ laugh drowns it out. the ride is not long enough to quell all the feelings that rest within him. soon enough he is dismounting inches away from the water, the sound of waves make the hooves behind him sound louder. 

trystane joins him, breathing heavily from the exertion. the water brushes their toes teasingly, wyllas far too focused on the summer sea in front of him to care about his boots getting wet. storm’s end could never compete with the ocean that lay before them. nothing in nightsong could ever compete with the way trystane’s hand finds his, fingers intertwining. 

“ i told you it was beautiful, did i not?”

their eyes meet, trystane smiles again, and wyllas is suddenly drowning on dry land. every feeling he has carefully pushed down during their trip is suffocating him now. they are clawing at his throat, begging for him to give them air. begging to bask in the sunlight that radiates from the man beside him. 

“ yes. it is. “ 

wyllas had spent nights fearful of claiming trystane as his, naively not realizing that it was not him claiming ownership. at some point, the other man had crept into every inch of his heart till it began to beat only for him. the caron realizes in this moment that he could cross a thousand seas, withstand armies entirely alone, just to experience the way trystane looks at him again. 

“ wyllas? “ 

“ you owe me a reward, trystane allyrion.”

“ do i?” 

a smirk of his lips. gorgeous brown eyes challenging wyllas. there are no shadows to misinterupt the way he looks at the shorter man.

words are not a sufficient answer, feet stepping forward so that he may pull the man into a kiss. wyllas surrenders himself to every feeling he has been containing, letting them spill out and into the gentle way he holds the other. 

the caron hands over a heart he had been protecting fiercely since the day he left nightsong, entrusting it to trystane allyrion. 

[crvwnfought]

with  wyllas  caron  &  aurore caron    /    @gcldenflwer & @aurorecaron​ where:   the great hall. when:   midway through the evening celebration.

        watching  one  piece  of  his  heart bind herself to another for all her days gave the lord of godsgrace very little reason to smile, but he’d maintain a neutral expression, a fragile one, and thankfully he was known for his quietness in recent years so no one looked twice while he remained on the sidelines for most of the night, watching the dancing rather than partaking. until a welcomed face caught his eye amongst the crowd. it was as if the gods themselves were reminding him that while his heart had lost one it had reunited with another, one trystane had only thought he would ever embrace again in his memories. their moments shared since their kiss rushed to the forefront of him mind, awaking not only a smile but a sense of boldness within the allyrion that he’d thought lost to his youth.

        he strode through the crowd with eyes locked on wyllas. his heart pounded in his chest, still possessing a reluctance to draw too much attention to himself, but bravery - love even - kept him moving until he stood before the other man. only then did he realize that lady aurore stood beside him. quickly, he nodded his head in greeting to her.        ❝  lady aurore. you look lovely this evening. i’m surprised lady ravenna could bear leaving you alone.  ❞        as quickly as he looked at her, he looked away. warmth and affection swam in dark hues as he looked upon wyllas. there was never a moment where trystane didn’t think he looked handsome, but tonight, seeing him dressed in his finest attire, he looked more god than man. his heart stuttered.        ❝  wyllas.  ❞        fondness bled into his words. ignoring any hesitation, he reached out and grasped the other’s hand, raising it so he could place a kiss on the caron’s knuckles.        ❝  would you do me the honor of joining me for this dance?  ❞

[crvwnfought]

with  wyllas  caron    /    @flvvrpetals​ where:   dorne, somewhere between godsgrace and starfall. when:   years ago, before their first separation. 

        ❝  hold  still.  ❞        lips  were  pressed  into  a thin line as he tended to the wound on the other’s arm. worry had seized his chest when he’d watched the stranger’s sword slip past wyllas’ defenses and made his blood spill. it’d only been his arm, but had wyllas misstepped or the other’s aim been more accurate it could have been the heart’s blood dripping to the ground - trystane powerless. only now that he is staring at the wound, wrapping a bandage around it so it ceases spilling life’s liquid, than the fear abated. he sympathized with poor patroclus; it was difficult cherishing a warrior so dear, even if trystane’s devotion remained a quiet secret of his heart. dark eyes flicker toward wyllas’.        ❝  that was reckless of you. you can’t cross blades with everyone who says something that irritates you.  ❞        but holding onto annoyance was near impossible when the words that had spurned the fight had been an insult against the allyrion; one he would have bore in silence had wyllas not risen with sword brandished like the moon rising to combat the night’s darkness when the sun was too fatigued to shine. in that moment, an emotion he’d never felt had overtaken trystane. it lingered now, swimming in his eyes as he stared at wyllas.

[crvwnfought]

@flvvrpetals​​

laying on trystane's bed, carefully placed on the bed by a servant at a lord's request, is a a bundle of beautiful black, streaked with grey ( reminiscent of the beard of lord caron ) fur. it is gently rolled and tied with string, note attached to it. 

to my heart, 

i know that the cold air is not a friend of yours, i purchased this from an old friend up north for you. i hope it will keep you warm while my arms cannot. i find that recalling summers under the dorne sun with you, warm me adequately. and if you do not read this, i hope you will at least wear the fur. 

may the gods gift me another breath so that i may use it to remind you of my love. 

yours, 

wyllas.

        the  sight  of  the  gift  made  him choke on the heart that had lodged itself in his throat. his lungs screamed for air, but he couldn’t move let along command his brain to function. there was no need to look at the note to know who it was from for he’d not said a word to anyone recently about how the winds in the vale were far too cold and cutting for him, far too used to the desert’s heat. people could assume, but only someone who knew him would know for certain. and there was only one person who knew that would go to the trouble. something squeezed his heart. wyllas. why . . . he knew now that the letters had all been burned. did he find joy in torturing him?

        a poor servant chose that time to enter the room, and before he could even say an apology for interrupting the allyrion lord, trystane snapped,        ❝  who put this here?  ❞        his emotions, desperate for an escape, rushed forth in a fury, making his tone harsher than he’d intended. the nervous response came, “i don’t know, my lord. forgive me. some other servant brought it.” someone assigned to the carons, he almost corrected because he knew, he knew. he’d opened the door a crack, and now wyllas was trying to squeeze through again. stupid man. he shouldn’t have done that. he should’ve have kept it shut like he’d swore himself he would. he shouldn’t have . . .  “do you want me to take it away?” how quickly his mind ceased all thoughts. over a simple question with what should be a simple answer. yes, his mind screamed, but it had not won the war, and his heart screamed the opposite just as loudly. a stalemate.        ❝  i’m sorry for snapping at you. it’s fine. you can go,  ❞        he said instead to the servant. 

        it was only when the door closed that trystane stepped forward, feeling like his feet were stepping across quicksand, or mayhap he was already being dragged under. his lungs felt heavy. his heart even worse. it was the agony, however, that had resurfaced in his soul ever since his eyes had found wyllas’s once again, though even in godsgrace it’d quietly lurked, that reminded him he was alive; death would feel kinder. sitting down on the bed, he reached out and touched the fur. it was soft. it couldn’t have been easy for wyllas to get this. the effort and thought alone should make his heart warm more than any fire could; the small gifts he’d given him during their time in dorne  ( be it flowers, small trinkets, warm words, or merely reaching out to hold his hand )  had always made trystane feel blessed to be loved by one as magnificent as wyllas caron. and yet . . .

        i don’t want this, he realized, and the knife twisted as painful clarity washed over him. his heart wanted wyllas. he . . . he wanted wyllas. he wanted to run to the other, casting aside all chains that held him back. he wanted it to be wyllas’s arms that kept him warm against the cold winds. his fingers inched toward the letter         but there was no relief. his hand curled into a fist. for he could want, so strongly that he almost found the courage to act, but then his wounds ached, and he remembered. he wouldn’t survive another wound like the previous one. so he rose to his feet, picked up the fur and the unopened letter, and forced himself to lock both away in the bottom of one of his trunks. hopefully, his heart would remain in there too. it was better off this way.

[crvwnfought]

@aurorecaron

— - a raven arrives addressed to lord trystane of godsgrace shortly after most nobles arrive home from the destruction of the red keep

Dear Lord Allyrion, 

     I would apologize that I'm not one for writing grand openings to letters, but I believe we've already passed the threshold for polite introductions. I had planned to speak to you further after the Prince's wedding, but it seems the gods had far different plans. Nevertheless, I hope this letter finds you and your family in safety following the tragedy in King's Landing. 

     I simply wish to discuss what I might have if fate had not intervened, and firstly wish you to know that it's quite clear to me you had no knowledge of my marriage to Wyllas. In fact you looked and sounded quite stricken if my memory serves me properly. And it usually does. I look forward to your reply, and ask that you address any ravens to Karhold. 

Sincerely, 

      Lady Captain Aurore of the Iron Fleet

        the  letter  had  sat  unopened  on  a table in his study for far too long, staring at him whenever he walked by, before he opened it, knowing he owed her at least that. more days passed before a satisfactory response was penned. it reached karhold near the end of the first month.

dear lady captain aurore,

        it is i and i alone who must apologize both for my delayed response and most especially, for my conduct at the wedding and the embarrassment i inflicted upon you. my sincerest apologizes. i regret that i couldn’t apologize in person as i’d planned to. my family is well and safe. i hope the same can be said of yours? 

        you are correct. i was unaware of your marriage to lord caron. had i known, i never would have looked in his direction  ( the line was scratched out and the first sentences rewritten on a blank page. because he doubted himself. had wyllas only told him... maybe love wouldn’t have let him care )  but it is no excuse. i was the one who assumed you spoke of lady ravenna when you mentioned your marriage after wyllas had made no mentions of being wed when we first met. i neither ask nor expect your forgiveness for i know i don’t deserve it. however, if you have any questions, i will answer. otherwise, i wish you well and promise i shall no longer interfere in your and your husband’s lives.

sincerely,         lord trystane allyrion of godsgrace