#yxuna

[mountainvroyce]

celebrating the marriage of lord axell royce and lady yuna upcliff

As the sun dipped below the horizon, it painted the sky in a fiery canvas of crimson, marbled with hues of gold, orange, and hints of cobalt. This celestial spectacle cast an ethereal glow upon the standing stones. The stage was set for the union of Axell Royce and Yuna Upcliff, a sacred bond that would be consecrated amidst the honored stones of Runestone. While the rugged mountains of the Vale echoed with the clamor of battle, Axell Royce and Yuna Upcliff, both figures marked by others with trepidation, otherworldlyness and notoriety, took a respite from the conflict to embark on this most auspicious journey. The entirety of the Vale's nobility, and even emissaries from realms beyond, had been invited to gather to partake in this momentous occasion. The air hung heavy with the weight of both celebration and caution, for Axell remained a target of the Mountain Clans, and he was resolute in ensuring the safety of his new bride and the sanctity of their celebration. And while one plan of attempted assassination was discovered a few days before nothing happened at the ceremony itself. Or at least none that the newlywed couple were aware of. Within the hallowed circle of standing stones, an exquisite fusion of heritage transpired. It was a dance of customs, a harmonious marriage of Runestone's storied traditions, a tribute to the legacy of House Royce, interwoven with the mysterious tapestry of practices brought forth from the Witch Isles, paying homage to the Upcliffs. The very stones that bore witness to centuries of history now stood witness to this union, a bridge between realms and legacies. As the clock struck midnight and the celebration continued on inside, the newlyweds stole away as part of an ancient tradition in Runestone's lore. It was within the protection and blessing of the standing stones that the newlyweds consummated their marriage and the start of their new life together.

@yxuna

[ravellaarryns]

who: @yxuna where: the private chambers of queen ravella arryn, first of her name. for context, ravella overheard a quiet incident on the other side of the veil between the audience chamber and her bedchamber between lady yuna royce and lady anastacia templeton. the woman entered wordlessly, before asking the lady yuna royce to joinher.

the strange little one of witch isle outranked them all now, all the little porcelain dolls that would line up on the other side of the veil. sometimes the dolls would whisper and mutter to one another, and sometimes the most stupid of them all would would find herself losing patience with the strangeness of the others that surrounded her; her voice had a certain squeak to it, and it reminded her more of a repulsive, pulsating rat rather than anything else.

the sound wafted into her bedchambers, where the queen was stood across her own mirror: she looked in the mirror and saw her mother. it repulsed her.

as though with each year that passed, her face resembled more and more of a woman that raised her eldest son to be a mere shadow of the greatness that was her husband. she sought to look in the mirror and see her father staring back at her: so many uttered she were truly alfrid arryn's daughter. and so why did she see the late, tragic, lady charice? the rat continued to squeak, and another of the porcelain dolls uttered something that sounded suspiciously like the word babe. child. infant.

"she is only a baby. she is our princess. the window must have already been open, and caused the door to creak. enough of this."

and something in ravella seemingly extinguished. for imperfection in the house of arryn was something she would not stand for, even if it were to come from her own womb. she would rip it from existence, the very same way she had ripped the body of a weak daughter from her own bleeding cunt on all fours. her first obstacle as ruler. a daughter. worthless. she would cleanse the ancestral line of house arryn of any impurities, for they needed to be perfect. purely bred. strongest. smartest

imperfection already showed in the way of her deaf sister, weak, feeble minded; known only for a fertile womb. easily replaceable by any woman cunning or shrewd enough to use a brain to gain some influence over the king of winter. he was a good man. good men were always the easiest to control. it was only a matter of time before that alliance was useless beyond surface level formalities.

and she knew why avalon would not be perfect. she knew now, in this quiet moment, whose seed she truly came from. corrupted. defiled.

the newest addition to the house of royce followed after her at her direct command, and ravella did not even remember crossing the threshold into the room where three other souls seemed to hold their breaths, or even walking away from the mirror. she stood nowhere near the mirror now, and yet, as orbs of ice flickered back over to it, she continued to see her own figure stood, staring directly at her. not blinking. she was always used to feeling watched, both in reality and from the mirror. it gave no reaction at all. "tell me, what is it the ladies whisper of her?" ravella spoke, meaning to speak in the common tongue: and yet when she did, the ancestral tongue of the first men tumbled from her lips, painted in shades of ruby hues. "is she wrong? crippled."

[ulises-tarth]

Reverse make the 8! Choose one person from each region to push off a cliff

The question felt a bit ridiculous, frankly, since the Evenstar didn't think he'd ever feel truly compelled to push anyone off a cliff. He didn't consider himself to be someone who would kill in another scenario that wasn't the battlefield, or during naval warfare. For survival too, perhaps, as he'd already experienced what it was to feel the visceral desperation to keep on living in an adverse situation. “For the Vale, perhaps Lady Upcliff. For the Stormlands, I'd much easier throw myself off a cliff than to move against my kin,” he said. “For the West, the older Lord Serrett. For Dorne, Lord Wyl. For the North, the Lord of Sea Dragon Point. Lord Celtigar for the Crownlands. The Bastard of Raventree for the Riverlands, and Lord Tarly for the Reach”.

( @yxuna, @adrianserrett, @ryonwyl, @jin-renshu, @vlxyrianclaws, @lucius-rivers & @harlonvflowers )

[xialigreenleaf]

closed starter for @yxuna !! xia-li invites her cousin to her chambers to spend time and chat over a meal during the festivities for the coronation of king jaehaerys.

delicacies of the crownlands left little to he desired for the yitish lady. despite her acceptance of the decadent meals provided by the royal court, she found it lacked the ability to fully sate her hunger and theres no doubt that the cousin she'd sent for a few hours earlier shared the sentiment. its the very reason why she requested that those accompanying her brother prepare dishes that were more familiar to their palettes. she was far too busy reading through the parchment brought within her belongings to find the passages that might mean the most to yuna.

eager eyes scan over the options covering the stretch of wood they would be seated at. succulent dumplings and fluffy rice enveloped in a steady rise of steam are sat next to two bowl, filled to the brim with broth, noodles and vegetation imported from the lands their ancestors once inhabitabed before settling amongst the westerosi. it took every bit of self control she could muster not to touch the tempting bowls of tangyuan and trays of wagashi that had made friends alongside each other at each end.

only when she hears the footsteps of her most cherished family member, does she snatch a flower-shaped sweet from its place on the table, ready to present as a welcome gift to her guest. "any longer and i might have eaten all this myself." said with jest as she wraps an arm around yuna, giving a tight squeeze before ushering her towards the enticing aromas.

[rememberences]

Religion and Culture in the Kingdom of the Vale 

language: they talk with highland scottish accents and speak scottish gaelic as their old tongue (first men roots)

geography: a mix of switzerand and scotland. all noble families have their own tartan, and perhaps even their own theme on bagpipes.

in terms of the faith, it is inspired more by celtic christianity - early  forms of christianity in the british isles before roman catholicism came over were veyr mixed with druid practices. in terms of our verse, this reflects the mix of first men and andal culture prevalent in the kingdom of the vale.

religion beliefs: 

the seven are the reigning gods, and their spirits are felt around mortals. through nature, and through combining your worldly and spiritual practices. they are there to guide you.  they also follow the scripture of the seven pointed star, and believe in those very same principles and rules.

there is a love of nature, the elements and the seasons; though this love  for nature is not translated into the worship of nature. it is believed a living reminder of the care of the gods, to grant a beautiful world to live in.

the belief in “thin places”: andals continue the first men belief that specific geographical locations provided a closer view of the spirit world. these places became sacred sites where worshipers could be closer to the seven and the holy spirits. for example, the royce stone circle.

septs look like small abbeys, and there is one singular septon in charge of each sept. they are not large, or overly flashy; the most impressive sept in the realm is the one in the eyrie. it is not about the money. communities and settlements gather around the septs and the septon.

there is the belief of something called a 'caraid anam' which is believed to be something similar to a soulmate. it is not always romantic, but is believed to be more of a compassionate presence. it can be friends, a husband or wife, other family, etc.

marriage and funeral customs:

noble and smallfolk engagements are formally made between families, often with a dowry or for political/economic advantage. smallfolk tend to also utilise handfasting ceremonies, which essentially binds them together, however it not a marriage. this is done traditionally in a place that is ‘thin.’ 

funerals are small affairs, both for nobles and the smallfolk. bodies are placed in the sept, and prayed over; the eldest son is to stand vigil over the individual as the sept prepares for their entombment/burial the next day.

@mountainvroyce  / @domericstone / @ravellaarryns / @rosaaaryn / @longbowhalllord / @yeseniaegen / @yxuna​

[jin-renshu]

The storm

Setting: A Highgarden Inn. A few who were lucky enough to be in the main market square when the storm hit were able to find themselves within the warm walls of one of the main inns of the city.

Group: @lightxshadow, @joymanwoody & @yxuna​

There was no use trying to leave; the storm was raging outside and the group was fortunate enough to be able to take cover in this place. Some had even indulged in the comfort of food and drink while they waited for the climate’s fury to lessen. It was calm, for the most part, small groups forming at the tables and yet Ren had noticed the looks from some of the Reach folk. They regarded him with mistrust, particularly those that had children at their sides. Their fleeting eyes landed on him and then they were quick to glance away when he caught them looking. It wasn’t just him, though, he took notice that similar looks were given to some of the foreign dignitaries from the other realms.

“Not too fond of those that don’t call the Reach their home, are they?” he murmured as he walked closer to a Dornish woman, the lady who came from across the seas to wed the Hightower lord, and the Vale girl who bore the pride of Yi Ti as well as he did. He didn’t think it was a coincidence at all that those parents and nurses aimed their suspicious glances toward those that looked so different from them. There was little time to muse or discuss the matter, for the piercing cry of a woman echoed through the whole inn, putting every soul on edge as she claimed that her two children had vanished from her side.

[danceofwhispers]

Dear Watchers, have you noticed the strange Upcliff girl within the Vale Court? They say their name has a sinister reputation, and she seems to whisper things in a strange tongue. Do you know if she is a witch? Her presence at court falls closely to the time of the poor missing Princess...you don't think she sacrificed her for blood magic, do you?

“I’ve heard things and seen a few more. Once upon a time we didn’t suffer witches in the Vale. Alas, the Kingly Queen seems not better than her wildling loving brother. Mayhap this is an issue for the Septons. In my day, we burned witches. We didn’t employ them of course, this watcher thinks the Kingslayer isn’t too far above a Princess slayer. Perhaps they all work together.”

| @yxuna @ravellaarryns @rememberences |

[svnho]

   *         “ este jardín es muy pacífico.   ”        

sueño vuelve ligero como pluma desde últimas semanas ( quizás es el estrago del estrés y angusti ). capaz de alejarlo de los brazos de morfeo cuando voz ajena retumba como eco.  ‘ era muy pacífico. ’ la voz se vuelve adormilada, llevando el costado de su mano derecha a la altura de sus ojos, tallándolos después. ‘ ¿no sabes que es de terrible educación interrumpir el descanso de los demás? ’ y, apenas termina de soltar cuestión, un pequeño bostezo toma lugar.  ‘ ¿cómo piensas compensarme? ’ el elevar de cejitas deja en claro que el cansancio, poco a poco, va quedando en el olvido.          ──        @yxuna​ @svnnha​

[minjac]

                         ☾ ―“Al menos estamos lejos de Kang Yoonseo.” ( @yxuna​ )

   “O mejor dicho, por suerte ella está alejada de nosotros. Ya después del desmadre de la otra vez debe habernos tomado como que estamos compuestos a base de dinamita”. Esperaba su comentario no le sentar a mal, sobre todo siendo ella una de las alumnas que se había visto afectado particularmente por ese accidente, pero a la distancia Minjae solo podía pensar en tratar de desdramatizar el hecho. “Aunque dudo no tenga secuaces ocultos entre nosotros...” dijo al alzar las cejas varias veces. “De alguna manera es que siempre logra estar actualizada”

[lvcivn]

“ ¿Qué haces aquí solo? ” @yxuna​

          Dígito se deja caer en pequeños golpecitos sobre el cristal del vaso, brisa que acaricia sus facciones le otorga innegable calma. “Necesitaba tomar un poco de aire” respondió con calidez, volteándose hacia Yuna y encontrando auténtico el sentimiento reconfortante que le producía verla “¿cómo estás?”

[sunhws]

*     ‘ hay una leyenda que dice que hay kappas en estas termas. ’     /     @yxuna​

deja que palabras ajenas ronden por su mente por sólo unos segundos, silencio dándose paso por su parte y permite que sus pensamientos busquen algo de información sobre lo que había dicho, preguntándose si alguna vez había oído algo como eso ‘ no te voy a mentir– ’ comienza con algo de lentitud y las comisuras de sus labios se elevan levemente ‘ no tengo idea que son esas cosas. ’

[mountainvroyce]

location: the halls of the eyrie at night

@yxuna​

“if it isn’t the the lady of witch isle. good evening.”

he had seen the new lady in waiting around the vale court recently. despite how he felt he was going around in more a blur than he would prefer. it was needed to get through what his duty was. how does one manage when their own brother marries the queen? but she was not just the queen to him. she was more. and now he feared could not longer be anything else to him. 

but the lady upcliff was a new change to the eyrie court that the lord commander did not mind. perhaps she was a little strange, but when did strange or unusual hold him back from anything. however this was the first time the ghost of runestone had been able to find her alone. and even in the grand halls of the eyrie axell’s frame loomed large in the moonlight.

“you know i have been all over the vale. maybe more than any man here. been atop nearly every mountain range, hunted in all our forests, looked down the moondoor of the eyrie, been in the courts of the lords but i have never set foot on the witch’s isle. is really as unsettling as people say it is?”

[ravellaarryns]

who: @yxuna​ where: the wedding feast of queen ravella of house arryn and lord graham of house royce

No longer could she remain a Princess of a Falcon King, able to manipulate their love and their weakness to allow her to live as she pleased - that was the issue with both of her brothers, how soft-minded and easily swayed they were as long as they were in said company. It were funny how the moment it fell on Ravella herself, the moment the Falcon crown of sapphires and white diamond and all the weight that came with it, fell upon Ravella’s responsibiltiy - it was done with the correct decorum and etiquette as one would expect upon the Vale of the Arryn.

That included the likes of taking ladies, ladies that were more than just mere servants - they were supposed to be confidants, companions, the eyes and ears of a court the Queen herself would not obtain access to.

Much had changed with her ascension, and it was something she had silently and swiftly accepted for the sake of ensuring there was little to no opposition to it, nothing that wedding the most respected and feared man in the Vale that would not sort out. 

Her mind remained blank as she listened to the sounds of the lutes dancing over blood stained walls, walls that had only recently played host to those savages that had nearly been the downfall of their house; she were thankful the Lannister whore had returned to her family out of fear, and ended up stuck there once again, like the foolish golden bird she was.

That bastard of hers could remain there, within the Lions’ den, where it was nothing but a bastard with a King whose mother was at his very mercy. That baby would remain there, wouldn’t it?

Wouldn’t it? Would she need to make sure of it? Would that child someday come for her own? She felt her hand stiffen slightly upon the mountain throne she sat upon, feeling the ancient weirwood beneath her fingers as she watched her husband speak with a noble dignitary from the Free City of Braavos, her husband and Domeric Stone. Stone, fucking stone - how disgusting did she find his face now, and she only silently thought he would lose himself within the clouds. So high up above from reality, either it would make or break him.

She did not care, truthfully, for what it did to him.

Leaning quietly to the left, she felt the presence of the Lady she had known for some time, though there was no doubt their association had only become more regular and closer since choosing to bring the Lady Yuna to court at her first official Lady. A raven curl fell from from her updo as she she spoke to the lady, as was often seen these past days; the two women speaking in quiet voices to one another.

“Do you these think men would rather see the Lannister’s bastard on the throne, with Lord Royce as regent?”

[ddye]

                 la bebida es exquisita y no esperaba menos de la necesidad de la institución por alabar a quienes metían dinero cada periodo en la academia. no es frugal con lo que va tomando, pues supone así podría soportar el evento. perdió las ganas de saludar a viejos padres conocidos cuando la conversación siempre caía en la falta de presencia del anciano abuelo y el observar la hipocresía de otros con su familia, le tenía asqueado. ve salida brillante en forma de menuda mujer y no duda en acercarse.  “entonces, ¿invitaste a alguien para acompañarte?, ¿vas a presentarme si es así?”               @yxuna​

[xialigreenleaf]

raven is en route to witch isle, scroll and clear indicator of its greenleaf origins accompanying it on its journey. / @yxuna

dearest moon child,

has the time yet come for you come down from your enigmatic corner of the world to grace the north with your presence? our time at the reach ran much shorter than i'd have liked and when you feel its safe for you travel, i request your audience in the heart of winterfell.

it is not fir hold, where we could spend our times reading the stories of our ancestors, but i've gotten my hands on some scrolls that may be of interest to you. we must keep them pristine, or my brother shall have my head.

prosperity & blessings,

lady xia-li ♡

[rememberences]

who: @yxuna​ where: the halls of the eyrie, the vale of arryn

Witch Isle had been an independent sovereignty as had the majority of the ancient and noble houses of the Vale, remaining separate to the Andal conquered kingdom even after the Battle of the Seven Stars had been fought and, his own ancestor had been defeated. Even when the Royces had bent the knee to the Falcon King, even when so many of those followers retreated into the Mountains of the Moon to become the clans that now plagued their lands, the Upcliffs remained beyond the stretch of the Andals until it was brought into the fold by the marriage of Lady Arwen Upcliff to King Alester II.

“Lady Upcliff.” The Royce of Runestone addressed the entrance of the Lady whom he had seen in passing over the years, as though she danced in the shadows; of a shadow that grew only larger and larger. The King Consort’s audience chambers were a floor below the ones of the Queen, with a hearth already roaring and the curtains drawn against the chill. “Please be seated.” The guards remained positioned outside of the doors she had walked through, those of Arryn and Royce alike.

It was a history he knew was taught upon Witch Isle as much as the people of Runestone sing folk songs suggesting that the rightful king Robar Royce did not perish during that final battle, but was sent over the Narrow Sea to safety; how pride remained something that both bound and separated the Houses of the Vale, time and time again. The corridors of the Eyrie remained the very same as they always had, beautiful marble of white with stained glass windows that offered glimpses of the clouds and mountains beyond; and yet, so much had changed. 

“Your brother is due to receive a royal summons within the fortnight.” The Upcliffs were a family that benefited from the change in the head that wore the crown. 

There was no longer a Falcon King to sit upon the Mountain Throne, but a Falcon Queen; and with the wedding between himself and that very Queen he had silently taken as his wife within the wild landscape of the Bronze valleys finally binding Houses Royce and Arryn, there now was a Royce King in history. With that, came great changes; changes in regards to the line of succession most obviously and how it needed to be filled urgently, but also changes for those who were linked to new King and Queen of the Vale. 

“In the mean time, be seated.” The chair was empty, though he remained stood by the hearth, slipping his sword from around his hip atop a wooden surface, his hair slightly wet from training with the Knights of the Vale within one of the Eyrie’s courtyards. 

Lady Yuna Upcliff, for example, had found herself rising from the Lady of a Princess who refused to involve herself in the open politics of the realm, to the Lady and trusted confident of the Ruling Queen. There would be many who would wish to seek out her position, and undermine her by any chance necessarily; including the sinsister reputation for witchcraft and heresy the Upcliffs seemed to wear as armour. He knew what he needed to speak to her about, and was never one for dancing around a subject. “Your change in position - how are you coming to terms with it?”