#ravella 001

[ravellaarryns]

MEMORIES AS HEAVY AS A STONE; OH GODS HAVE YOU WALKED AWAY FROM ME? (DOMERIC&RAVELLA) / @wcrdsarewind

what: continuation of this thread between lord domeric stone bolton and princess ravella of house arryn.

ravella: and she remains silent as he speaks on the authority of rowan arryn - it takes all in her to ask what authority, what affection does he deserve? but he was the mountain king. he was a representation of her. ravella; how it sickened her so. to know her home, her name, was represented by his weakness. she had doubted her father's decision in sending him to the front lines, leading a regiment in his youth...but now she understood. he prayed weakness would be killed. ravella: "there will be no wildlings walking along my walls." ravella: "i will see them turn on one another in butchery, or give up on these peace efforts and return back to the grovels they come from." and he says men will beg like the gods to be free of him, as he strips them bit by bit. and there is a sick fire in orbs of ice. ravella: "show me the gods exist, domeric."

domeric; watches her. she didn't want the wildlings around her and he understood. they were savages. mountain clans was a term to kind for them. raiding the lands around them expecting to leave untouched. to welcome these monster...he wouldn't have it. not in his kingdom or any other. domeric; "turning them into some frenzy where they kill each other would be harder, that takes time and effort to infiltrate. we can take this with no issue." domeric; watches her. his eyes on her. something about the light there intrigues him, awakens him. reminds him. domeric; "i can do that." domeric; noted the change in his voice. lost in thoughts of her in that moment where she was completely free and unraveled. lost in the thoughts of savages begging for solace. calling to their gods. he hates dorne. the temperature seemed to rise at random.

ravella: and she wants to ask him why he is so ready to help, ready to help with no price to be paid in response; but she knew the answer. she knew the love he seemed to bare towards everything that led back to those hammering rains of runestone. ravella: but why ask him, if it would only make this strange spell he had casted on himself more obvious? ravella: "you will do that." ravella: "you will do that?" and she's careful with her words, like silver poison; she would not give him orders, he was no subject of hers. no subject of the vale of arryn. ravella: "does it take long to get the final outcome?"

domeric; can't focus but he can hide his attentions wandering, his thoughts. he would do this, not just for the vale or the royces or her. he would do this because it was his duty. his gift. his heart. domeric; it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to not order him when she rephrased the same order as a question. so, he nods domeric; “i'll do it.” domeric; “it can take as long as i need it to take. i'm in control. their life, their screams, their pleading is in my hands.”

ravella: and her silhouette, adorned in black dornish silks, sweep over the mosaic tiles as she seems to circle him, if only to stand beside the door with a hand on the doorknob. it was to hear if there was any other on the other side. ravella: "i look forward to seeing it, my lord. this being something not even the rains can wash away from you." ravella: and her mind trails as her orbs fix upon his, trails as she considers what the implications of this could be. there could be violence. they would handle it. they would rise, and be strengthened from it. ravella: and if she died, she knew it was for a cause. a cause to cleanse. ravella: "you'll hold no debt over me, my lord... acknowledged or not." ravella; "when the time comes, you find me."

domeric; watched her circling him, his eyes on hers as she moved to the door. not even the rains of runestone could cleanse a such as he. he was born in whatever darkness ravella wandered into. domeric; "i look forward to showing you. i'll keep it in mind. not sure what you could give me but, perhaps something will come up." domeric; "maybe the best way to avoid cows." domeric; humorless as he bows forward. domeric; "princess." domeric; "i'll send you something when it's time for you to meet me. no worries, you'll know it's from me without the need for written letters or seals."

ravella: and she's still holding onto the doorknob, knowing they would need to slip out into the crowds seperately. knowing that doing this in itself was risky business enough, but she would laugh in the face of those who dared question her. she was no bird, and held no cage; if there was a place she ruled, it was the seven hells themselves ravella: "perhaps. find something - it is in your own interests." because she would not allow another to feel like he did anything for her ravella: and she stares at him when he mentions cows. she didn't understand what he referenced. buried, long dead in the back of memories that were stored in a box; the slight confusion was obvious in a glint within her orbs ravella: "cows, my lord?"

domeric; he looks at her for a moment, his brow furrows and a brief smile comes on to his face and it goes away. it makes him sad to know she's never going to be what she was. he feels a great guilt at liking her better this way. such a weakness that came with an attachment to the past. one he couldn't let go, it gave him humanity. a man born without it, needed to hold on to it where he found it as to not completely fold into the nothingness of his reality. domeric; "it's not important. you should go." domeric; walks by her, to stand at the other side of the room, leaning against the wall, finding a place in the shadows. domeric; "enjoy this festive evening."

ravella: and perhaps she should have asked him to tell her, insisted he tell her; did he know something she didn't? ravella: but truthfully, she did not care enough to wish to get an answer to what it was he spoke of. cows, she simply could not make a link to; and so, the woman merely nodded, raven hair tumbling down her shoulders as she lowered her head in response to him ravella: “i shall leave you to whatever thoughts choose to haunt you, this festive evening.” ravella: and her tone copies his for a moment, before she leaves, closing the door behind her

[incorvaia]

» @fallencrxwns​

sweetened name and customary introductory title held themselves on vevienne’s tongue, behind her teeth, lips that partially opened only to close; of which the blade of words prodded and delved into the cage of ribs with intent being a type of rot. ( too late to claim that it had not already festered ) yet now in this moment such a quip betrayed when otherwise readily scorched. “ you— “ you look well, you look happier, healthier couldn’t pass from thought into reality; be bundled up with a bow coaxed with gentle others and sentimental smiles nonetheless even the corners were laced pinpricks. a jaw clenched endeavor. it had been an avoidance admittedly ( though she would not speak of it as such; she hadn’t allowed it with their cousin making her vitriol a public affair, she hadn’t allowed it with her own match ) preferred to remain within guest quarters and allow celia to be the buffer for any exchanges had. but ‘one must do’ as they say. “ you sent my letters back unread. “ 

[cerysesand]

@lady-allyrion

With the two children off with their Septa for the afternoon, and their Lord trapped away in some meeting or another, Ceryse found herself antsy. Having sought Ravella out, lips drew into an immediate smile. “Come explore the Capital with me. I’ve seen enough stalls now to know what is and isn’t well priced. There are a few I need to stop at, but I know there to be a silken dress you would look beautiful in.” 

[highgcrdxn]

@lady-allyrion

A lord and lady had brought their paramour to the celebrations of the young prince - a juicy piece of gossip that seemed to rival that of the tournament itself. Admittedly, Persephone was a jealous woman and the idea of sharing Emeric with  another wasn’t particularly one that settled well with her - but it seemed the Lord and Lady Allyrion had done so for a decade with no issue ( at least none that her little birds could tell her of ) and that piqued her interest.

Having taken a stroll through the gardens, the woman just so happened to stumble upon the Lady and her children - the young ones undoubtedly grateful to have escaped the Keep in favor of time outside if their laughter was any sign. With a smile gracing her lips, she approached the Lady Allyrion with a chuckle. “If they are always so full of energy I cannot imagine how you stay so well composed. I fear when I have children I won’t have the time nor the energy for anything else.”

[ravellaarryns]

who: @anya-snow​ where: the vale settlements, barrowton

her mood had admittedly been foul these past few days, the amount of changes and things that had taken her by surprise were enough to cause a frustrated sense of anxiety to swirl within the woman, who seemed to wish to only grasp more within her hands - anything for some sense of control, to understand what was going on in the world around them. the geographic distance between the north and braavos was accountable for the lengthy breaks in the discourse she held with the sealord, though as the days and weeks passed on she felt herself growing more and more irritable. much was relying on a detail that could turn the tides with the relations they have always had with the most powerful of the free cities; the extent in which the government of the sealord were aware of the traitors that had found a home within the narrow lanes across the sea.

reports trailed back to her that the sealord was currently hosting a diplomat from as far east as the mysterious yi-ti, a move by the great power to branch further west than usual - it was enough to cause ravella arryn to be somewhat on edge, for gods knew the last thing they needed in this moment would be yi-ti getting involved in the mix - the thought itself was enough to cause a throbbing in the back of her raven haired head. a part of her knew the vale would never support the great power wishing to annex further regions, such as leng; and she knew that would be a conversation they would need to have at some point, should she find another dragon crossing the narrow sea. the doors to her chambers swung open, familiar looking knights of the vale with the sigil of a falcon escorting a certain northern bastard into her chambers, who appeared somewhat disarrayed by the sudden change of events in her day. 

“good for you to join me, anya snow.” ravella spoke, her tone not threatening or cold, but neither warm or inviting, icy orbs looking upon the woman’s silhouette. she recognised her, as she had stayed within the vale some months ago to rework the armoury of runestone. “leave us.” she ordered the guards, keeping her orbs fixed upon anya as the door locked behind them. 

“or should i say, yuan anya?” the woman asked, her tone suggesting the obvious confusion that had come as a result of the correspondence with the braavosi court - still, how surprised was she, to hear that ambassador yuan from yi-ti to braavos had a relative across the narrow sea who too had visited the vale once, a steel hearted swordsmith. “were you in contact with your family across the narrow sea whilst you remained within the walls of runestone?” she asked, her tone direct.