( ❛ & a queen. )

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       { soft mantua streams on picturesque, emerald grass, accompanied by the sweet sound of a natural
  orchestra: the trill of lively coloured birds & crystal, cold water descending from luxurious marble fountains.
  it is the perfect SANCTUARY of silence a girl queen could ask for. a garden of eden  where the
 sun beams wash away the misdeeds & turn dust into gold. where angels who have contravened the supreme
  sculptor receive their wings back; but not the ones who have fallen. azure sky like a pallium; to camouflage
  evil & the BROKEN existence of rose petals that have been dipped in      b l o o d.

      & she is all carved from alabaster skin, the shadow of a silhouette, the pale projection that is only verdant
  by  vibrant colours & black, schorl tourmaline head. her sensitive hearing catches something more than sounds
        of nature; an euphonious glee that makes amaranth lips    s m i l e.

      how her YOUNG soul longs for the fields of scotland; but her brain is in command, as it should be; the lusty  combination of being a good monarch. the reverie is dispersed when petioles of silk land on the ground at her
  feet. knees bend, candid concern & empathy making heart shiver at the thought of injury, slender fingertips            landing softly on the stranger’s arm. }

                                          ‘      dear Lord !    are you alright  ?         

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                she is heralded as  WILD , as  BOYISH , this  little winter  queen  who toted
                it’s chill within her very bones,  technicolor  veins as it afforded her a sense
                of livelihood where it  would  surely  turn  another  sluggish & so very cold
                instead  but  starks  thrive  amid  the unthrivable & she  is  no  exception ;;
                this  ever  CHILDISH  lady who acts  without  care  to fine  silks &  ropes  of 
                jewels, pearls  'round  slender  throat, careful  coil of hair made  a mess in
                wake of her fun.

                & she knows but LITTLE of court away from lord fathers own, knows but little
                those  who revel within sun  &  warmth  as  opposed  to  desolation,  prime
                WILDERNESS surrounding stone keep  of her home but scant knowledge is
                enough no matter the place for COURT is COURT no matter the location &
                surely a fool has been made  & it is she, oh northern bred lady  decorating
                french ground  with embroidered  silk  after  colliding  with she of ROYALE
                birth, SOVEREIGN decree.

                ALABASTARINE digits curl, lissome  lengths disappearing within wealth of
                creme & the grey of her family  &  ever  RARE  is it that  child of the WOLF
                should appear cowed but emotion is  reserved for royals alone for however
                BLUE she may be, evidence of  KINGS & QUEENS  within her line had all
                but disappeared  from  noble ichor rushing  through paltry veins & training,
                schooling may have failed on many a  subject, but how to treat BETTERS
                was ingrained so perfectly, even if the one before her was not own ruler.

❝     Forgive me !
I must have been enjoying myself too much
to           pay            proper           attention.   ❞

                & is it HALF A LIE  yet  suitably  so  for  any  who had encountered winded
                could attest that attention  had  been  given & t'was SENSE that had been
                lacking instead & of  that  she  is  so  very  much guilty,  this stranger within
                strangers court, clad  in  clan  colors  as  opposed  to myriad of glimmering
                hue  to  match  others  'round  born  station  ;;  ROYALE &  NOBLE  alike ,
                mingling  during  festivities held  by  host  &  she  knows  naught  of what  
                brings forth such merriment but  chance  had  been  taken to  SHUCK such
                stiffing court persona for a spell.

                      (     & she is not made for GENTLENESS & FINE MANNERS ;;    
                            but  rather the essence of  CHILDS PLAY  & she does  not
                            entertain  title  of SHE WOLF for naught after all ;; she  is
                            all teeth & wildness contained  within  soft flesh & roseate
                            lips,     eyes      grey      instead      of      lupine      GOLD.     )

                                                               ❝                       You are not HURT, are you? ❞

(Source: ofwolfmaidsmoved)

/ /

EVERY GIRL

ind. priv. sel. canon divergent book based lyanna stark from asoiaf established: 9.13 && rebooted 1.14.
written by JAILIN
{ 22 | she/her/hers | pst }

#ofwolfmaids

HAS WOLVES

drafts. starters owed. inbox.
permanent starter call.
thread tracker.

PACING RHYTHMS

i am not your apocalypse, i am not your salvation, my body is a kingdom meant only for a queen. i will take your crown, i will shape your stars, my life might not be my own but yours ?? i will make it so !! immortality is an escape, absolution from revolution, blessed by dying breaths of kings who lived too long. you called me an angel, blessed me with candle-bright lies. i will make angels fall, i will burn your kingdom down. immortality belongs to the dead, so bury me with my crown.

IN HER VEINS !!

i am not, nor do i claim to either be or be affiliated with hailee steinfeld or any of my face claims or have any connection to asoiaf. all writing here is my own, however, && my portrayal is based off of my own headcanons && beliefs formed upon watching the movie. i ask you to not take anything used here for yourself, with the exception of utilizing headcanons in our threads, without my permission.