╳ ┊❛ poor dear.

crowned with traitorous gold. starter.                       

                                         _{^{❛ MY LADY you mustn’t utter a word of this to anyone. ❜  fingers clawed against callous fabric; NERVES RISEN in crude breaths. she’s strangled by devotion. to her king. her husband. fearful of fate.  ❛ no one must know of this. not even robb. please, you must understand. ❜}}

                ^{she has been in this position before, knows the struggle, the desire for secrecy ;; it is hers && hers alone && she wolf holds no desire to take it from her. exhalation from frozen lungs ;; digits skim weighty fabric, pale ‘gainst heavy grey.           ❛     you have my word. this is yours && yours alone. none shall hear it from me, this i promise you.     ❜          (  she does not break promises.  )}

╳ ┊❛ alys.

【 ofwolfmaids 】:

     Looking at Lyanna Stark felt much like looking at anunsettling mirror. Their shared grey eyes, dark hair, sunless skin and slenderbodies heralded their kinship, however distantly. Though the mirror was harderand colder than the reality, carrying with her a past of harship and sorrowthat Alys was yet to experience, and hopefully never would. Of all the Starkswho, more or less, welcomed her to their home, the lady in question had beenthe quietest, and the most distant.

     “Lady Lyanna.” Her greeting was awkwardto say the least, her words coming out as less like a courtesy and more like amumble. Should she curtsy? No, that would feel too formal for a place where NedStark assured her was her ‘new home.’ Besides, if she curtsied every time shestumbled upon a Stark, it would take her the whole day to get anywhere in thecastle. So she merely stood there, fidgeting and shuffling her feet, unable tokeep their eye contact for long.

                ^{t'is not that she is cold, but rather guarded ;; life experience comes at a price && lady has always been protective of kin yet, now, she knows that which could happen, loath to see member of family experience similar. no doubt lingers within gilded bones that alys means no harm yet such is something not easily turned off. knowledge child shall make nephew happy alight within very bones yet it is all the same.   (  she has grown harder ;; lifetime of experience obtained by sixteenth year, held within fragility of adolescent palms. secrets guarded so very closely to this day.  )}

                 ^{❛     alys.     ❜          there is pebble within shoe && desire to grimace as weight shifts && it goes pressed ‘gainst heel is fought  ;; eggshells scattered && she does not know where to step. own betrothed, those of siblings one thing, this so wholly different ;; connection removed as opposed to direct && there is no need to make SHE WOLF happy to get good word received or relayed.   (  she does not matter, truly, in this arrangement ;; status foreign.  )}

                                    ^{❛     how are you finding winterfell? i hope it is to your liking.     ❜}

███┊❛ & ; northsheir. 

                ^{&& vocables slip forth of own  accord,  DRENCHED within  tonality of ever
                simple-mindedness &&  though  utterance  undesired, there  remains  truth
                within such BASIC speech offered, near set  to mumble ‘neath press of chin
                to soft of palm raised, curled unto cushion  for frozen curvature of northern
                jaw && all of it’s FALSIFIED FRAGILITY.}

                ^{(  there  is  enough  REMINISCENT  that  there  is  desire  within  cast  iron
                bones to abandon  posture  held  to  give  allowance  to hand to  reach, to 
                slip slender digits within his hair  && RUFFLE,  see is reaction given would
                match  memory  bank   of   actions   brother   would  perform  under  exact
                circumstance launched by sisterly  FONDNESS &&  sisterly desire to annoy
                all  wrapped  within  tiny,  tiny   (  she had once  been so tiny  )   SMILING
                package yet restraint is barely maintained.  )}

                                                               ^{❝ You look like your father. ❞}

███┊❛ & ; lanniisterblood

                ^{SILKS && FINERY heavy ‘round slender  frame,  as oppressive as gilt walls
                && visit ever undesired ;; such  RARITY it  is  for iron blooded, wolf hearted
                to be shown 'round capital,  within  castle  amongst  ghosts of those  whose
                DEATHS she, herself, caused   (  only SAVING GRACE  being  that there is
                no  marriage to keep her here among southron  lords &&  ladies who leave
                sour taste 'pon slick of northern tongue.  )}

                ^{there is no recent connection to finery  of castle yet still SHE WOLF moves
                as   she   had  back   when   entrenched   within   youth,  without   care   to 
                BOUNDARIES, to ever watchful eye  whenever she appears && she comes
                to make herself comfortable  within  gardens,  situated  among blooms && 
                seated 'pon grass with little care as opposed to scattered bench && here is
                FRESH  AIR  &&  OPEN SPACE  ;;  she  does  not  feel  suffocated  under 
                weight of royalty. movement catches  eye  oh so suddenly && head tilts to
                capture it && for one  beat,  two  it  is  HISTORY gone 'fore SHE WOLF 'til
                timelines right themselves 'fore heather gaze.}

                                    ^{❝   I thought you to be your MOTHER.
                              T'is quite UNCANNY how alike you appear.   ❞}

███┊❛ & ; sweetcxb

                ^{with age comes SILENCE where  before  there had been  none, youth ever
                asserting  itself with hums &&  tapping  fingers,  steps  LOUD when gentility 
                went deemed unnecessary   (  even  then  she  would  make  sound  as if to 
                herald approach to the world ‘til shushing whispers && looks of disapproval
                finally settled beneath flesh of SILKEN FROST  )   but  here  she  is,  mere
                CHILD no longer but woman grown 'gainst odds set by own heart which, in
                such painfully bloody innocence, did not know better.}

                ^{&& so she walks without sound, without grasp of glance of those passed   (
                she knows better, knows she possesses  attention for all know of SHE WOLF
                still eternally red  with blood  of  THOUSANDS 'pon cast iron palms  )   &&
                she expects to be ever  so  along  with  naught  but  unwelcome  ghosts to 
                offer company  'til  storm cloud  irises  latch  'pon  form  of  youth &&  steps 
                quell for moment.}

                                    ^{❝ Should you not be CLUTCHING your mothers skirts? ❞}

( ❛ & dear heart. )

             the auburn haired stark erupted in his well-
             known breathless laughter once his aunt had
             spoken. as soon as he calmed himself down,
             he tilted his head in thought. rickon knew of
             the targaryens, the people related to the man
             whom killed his namesake and uncle. yet, he
             was unaware of what a VIRGIN was.

                       “aunt lya, what is a virgin?
                      i’ve heard theon say that before!”

                eyes widen &          ;; OH how to explain. t'was not duty of AUNT but rather
                PARENTS to  explain  such  a thing & , surely , he was much too young to
                reach understanding   (  perhaps she should have  spoken to theon instead
                yet  only rickon & arya showed  true  appreciation  for wit & jest  displayed
                ‘pon her tongue.   )

                                                              ❝ A virgin is … ❞

                (  & she could suggest he ask  his  mother,  his  father but, surely , it would
                come back to her as BLAME was laid where it should rest.  )

❝ An … Unwed woman who  …  is not a
mother? I          ;;
                                                               ask THEON. ❞

(Source: ofwolfmaidsmoved)

( ❛ & sweetling. )

         █ ▌ ♛ ▐ — — — ❬ Ѕ ❭

               ever a lady immersed in the beauty of songs, talk of color and flowers
                   brings a  smile to her lips  that not  even her  sister could  diminish  if she
                   thought to try.    beauty and songs are two things that sansa L O V E S to
                   immerse herself in.     tales of gallant knights who rescue pretty maidens
                   from evils, and all of them always end beautifully,  with happily ever afters
                   and true love. sansa dreams of a life like that. one full of BEAUTY and joy
                   and, above all else, love.

                                   ❝  ‘Tis why I have always longed to travel South,
                                        for I have heard that they have color to spare! ❞

                   she wishes there could be more color in winterfell.  greys and whites and
                   blacks are lovely in their own way, but nothing can truly replace c o l o r s
                   ( blues, and purples, and pinks,  and countless other colors that can light
                   up a room )       but the north is not a place meant for the bright colors. it
                   holds it’s own beauty instead.

                   sansa quickly takes her aunt’s arm, her smile growing even more ( if that
                   was still possible ).  her joy and eagerness is painted across her visage, a     
                   child’s J O Y that only the most powerful forces can quench.

                                   ❝  No, Aunt Lyanna, I am afraid I do not.  Perhaps
                                        you could show me? For I would love to learn! ❞

                & the south held very little charm to lyanna, a lady who preferred CHILL & 
                OPEN SPACE  as opposed to  DELICATE CONSTITUTIONS  &  ladies  who
                his true intentions behind  fake  smiles  &,  quite  often, far too well for her
                comfort & she is  not  made  for  SOUTHRON  life  as  it was, far too prickly 
                ‘round their nobles & far too happy to be left to own devices yet SANSA ;;
                                                                       there is little doubt sansa would thrive.

                there were instances FEW &  far between  that  would find she wolf willing
                to  leave lands once governed by  lord father  &  now  by dear brother,  to
                return south for any amount of time,  walk those trailing  paths & smell the
                ocean & , yes , little niece would be one should she so request.

                hand pats  adolescent  arm  as  it  takes hold,  fondness  seeping  through
                even  such basic action & there  has  never  been  any doubt that  FAMILY
                has seen softer sides of wolf blooded woman that no other ever shall.

❝   It would be my honor, sweetling.   ❞

                &  ALREADY  there  is  a  plan  forming  within  mind ,  fresh  winter  roses 
                woven  together & decorating auburn  locks all the while  wishing,  hoping
                that  any  floral crown  placed  there  would  not  be  done  so  by  one  of 
                ROYALE blood & such  is forever  heavier  than  one would ever expect of
                something forged of bloom & stem & t'is a  tradition she hopes dear niece
                never to be a part of.

                                             ❝ I shall teach you & we can make one for each other ;;
                                             & we could  even  make  one  for  your  SISTER  & your
                                             LADY MOTHER  if  you  so  desire.  &  I  do not imagine
                                             your brothers or your father would decline either. ❞

(Source: ofwolfmaidsmoved)

( ❛ & sweetling. )

         █ ▌ ♛ ▐ — — — ❬ Ѕ ❭

               mention of new  flowers brought a smile full of DELIGHT onto the
                   young girl’s lips. the north was not home to many different blooms, and
                   most of  the ones that could  endure the cold  were awfully dull in color,
                   but they held their own beauty nonetheless.     the gardens of winterfell
                   would never  compare to  those of  highgarden, but  that did  not mean
                   they lacked all beauty.   no gardens south would possess the beauty of
                   the winter rose. and new blooms arriving always delighted her! 

                                     ❝  I would LOVE to see the new blooms. So a
                                         walk it is then!  It will be lovely to see some
                                         more color in the gardens. ❞

                           &  she  is  not  unaware   of   comparisons  made  of  she  & 
                           youngest  niece   yet  there  are  similarities  'tween   she  & 
                           sansa as  well even if they are  not  heralded so obviously ;;
                           fondness of story & song & sweets  &, especially, flowers in
                           fervor near akin to that of  young  lady,  only difference being
                           that lyannas appreciation  is  hidden beneath all that she is
                           while sansa wears it all ‘pon her sleeve.

                                                                ❝ Color does not come often enough,
                                            & it does not oft stay as long as we would prefer. ❞

                           but such is the price of winterfell,  of  the north & even within
                           the  summer as they are, this  achingly  long summer,  only
                           the strong, the hearty survive  &  in  that  respect, blossoms
                           are very much like her brothers people.

                           arm is  extended, silent offer for  niece to 'twine hers  'round
                           lithe line, smile 'pon  wild pulchritude one of utter fondness,
                           for one  accompanying  her  &  thought  strikes  her, causes
                           head to cant & curiosity to flow through delicate veins.

                             ❝ Do you know  how to braid  flowers, sweet?
                How to fold their stems around the others to create a
                                                              C R O W N ? ❞

(Source: ofwolfmaidsmoved)

( ❛ & sweetling. )

“Aunt Lyanna!” the girl cried out, far more startled by sudden plunge than
  a steed rearing in its vociferous displeasure. Silk moved in a dry whisper across
  the ground as Sansa hurried to tend her fallen relative.

                       So fastidious in all else, no mind was paid to the state of her skirts as
                       she knelt in dry winter grasses. Winterfell’s mounts rarely displayed
                       such unpredictable temperament, her own small palfrey so gentle as
                       to pluck apples from a waiting palm. Lord Eddard’s sister, not unlike
                       the younger sister who bore her looks, preferred wilder beasts. “Are

                       you well, dear aunt? Do not try to walk, I shall fetch the master at once!”

                           a smile placed so  cunningly  ‘pon  mien,  measured  within
                           its curl so as to not instill  more  worry  within auburn haired
                           kin & perhaps she aught be honored that state of fine skirts
                           might be ruined  on her  account but                   ;;  now is not
                           for such thoughts & hand lifts,  lissome digits curling 'round
                           adolescent  arm  with   gentle   movement,   attempt  to  give
                           comfort barely disguised.

                             ❝ I  am  fine,  Sansa. Truly.  I  have  lived
                through worse & I shall live through this as well
                although  I am  comforted  by  your  concern.  It 
                would require more than falling from a horse to
                do me any damage. ❞

(Source: ofwolfmaidsmoved)

( ❛ & sweetling. )

         █ ▌ ♛ ▐ — — — ❬ Ѕ ❭

               an aunt’s kind words comfort the child and bring a soft smile
                   to pink lips.    still, embarrassment lingers for a voice reminds her
                   that  it is  not ladylike  to sneak  up on  someone,  no  matter how
                   unintentional it is. she would have to be more careful in the future.
                   but for  now, she  was simply  glad that   she had  not  started her
                   aunt too terribly.        hands are clasped together in front of her as
                   she spoke. 

                                  ❝  regardless, i  should have  tried to  ALERT
                                      you to my presence.   but i was wondering
                                      if you would like to  join me  for a walk? or
                                         we could go for a ride if you’d prefer? ❞

                           query is not  unexpected  for  who  it  is  that speaks it,  ever
                           ladylike niece who  seems  forever enthralled by that which
                           shows beauty in  this  world  of  theirs  &  what better way to
                           view it all than a walk?  no  chance  of  refusal lingers within
                           adult breast for eternally will she  deign to meet the desires
                           of family loved above all else, time  spent  with any believed
                           a treat.

                             ❝ I would love either, sweetling,  whichever
                you would prefer. I’ve heard word that new blooms
                have arrived  if  you  would  care  to walk? I believe
                you would be fond of their color. ❞

(Source: ofwolfmaidsmoved)