flvvrpetals
shattered.
exclusive to thronesfm. | aster tyrell, braxton brax, wyllas caron, violet drumm, and maeve whent.
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crvwnfought:
regret pooled in his stomach the second the words, immersed in his frigid tone, pierced the air. cruelty was not a weapon he enjoyed; however, desperation clouded his mind. he burning with a desire he couldn’t have and unsure how to make it cease so some fragment of his wings could remain. he braced himself for the response, but instead of hurt there was a snort. his gaze jumped up. his brow furrowed as he watched the sound grow into laughter. it sounded, as it always had, like sunshine. ❝ that isn’t what i meant. when my privacy isn’t interrupted i can look where i please without someone misinterpreting it, ❞ he grumbled, looking back at his book. where they back in dorne? the bickering felt like a ghost from then. clearly lord caron was intent on pulling at his strings as if he knew of the longing living within him and believed if he played it like a harp he could produce the desired melody - trystane prayed he didn’t know how correct he was. ❝ yes, a few. ❞ including your wife. but mentioning the acquaintanceship he’d developed with aurore in the past seven months was far too cruel when wyllas’ letters had been cast into the fire. ❝ but i’m perfectly content with the parchment i have. ❞
“ so if i was not speaking and interrupting you, you would simply stare at me for as long as your heart desired? i am flattered, trystane, and it is duly noted,” wyllas quips back, the faintest hint of a smirk along his face. there was far comfort in the back and forth he’d grown accustomed to, rather than the overwhelming crushing press of grief that followed them as of recently. that sunk into wyllas’ bones and made itself home underneath his skin. yet, there was still something that remained in him that rose like jealousy in the back of his throat at the idea of trystane ignoring his letters, burning them, but was corresponding constantly with prospective spouses. he let out another snort to cover up the envy that resided in his stomach, tilting his head slightly at the other man as he stared at him. “ perhaps a new quill then? since yours never appears to work when it comes to putting words on parchment for me.” there was the slightest hint of jealousy that leaked into his words, revealing a single card from his metaphorical hand to the other man.
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crvwnfought:
every muscle in his body tensed when wyllas spoke, and trystane’s gaze shot back down to his book. not before, however, he caught sight of the smile that still made his heart stutter. it was identical to the one wyllas had flashed when he’d caught trystane watching him train all those years ago. the memories were unwanted; they intensified the ache that never let his heart rest. he clenched his jaw. ❝ the book had posed an interesting question. i was lost in thought considering it, ❞ he said tensely, but even as he spoke, he knew the other wouldn’t believe him. the two souls were still joined by a single thread, one that trystane couldn’t cut even though he had tried. it tried tugging his eyes up again so he’d fall back into eyes he’d once happily drowned in. trys kept his eyes glued to the page, but he swore he felt wyllas’ eyes on him, and his heart quickened. until the man spoke. wyllas didn’t speak his true question, but trystane heard. there was only one reason he’d ask about his cloaks. ❝ i’m fine. ❞ he turned the page a little too quickly. stop talking. stop caring about me. i’m not yours to worry about anymore, and if you don’t stop, i can’t… move on. heal. extinguish the candle that still burned solely for him. desperation mingled with frustrated, making the words fall without thought, ❝ besides even if i wasn’t, all the cloaks i have are useless. ❞
a snort escapes his throat before wyllas can shove it back down, finding something about the way trystane emphasizes all of his cloaks to be absurdly endearing. he knows he should find it a cruel comment, it should ache in his heart to know that trystane has rejected another gift from him, but there is something contagious in the way that his lover speaks it so matter of fact. a laugh bubbles out of his chest to chase after the snort, followed by another - till the caron is covering his mouth to politely stifle them. “ lost in thought staring at my eyes? interesting question indeed,” he replies, once the chuckles have settled into a more appropriate form of amusement. the man’s eyes are now entirely off his book, the guise of pretending to read mostly forgotten as he watches trystane curiously. it was a foolish act, to attempt to be coy about his intentions and expect trystane to fall in line with his game again so easily. “ if they are all useless, then i shall need to find something more suitable to gift you . . . “ he waits, considering his next words carefully. “ perhaps new parchment, i have heard you are writing quite a few letters. new writing companions?”
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crvwnfought:
that was a relief. in addition to the fact that she wasn’t shouting at him for not being more aware of his surroundings. having been forsaken by luck, its blessing now was a surprise, but perhaps it was the lady it was smiling down upon. ❝ lady maeve. ❞ a warm smile appeared. ❝ you needn’t apologize for either, ❞ he assured her. ❝ while i have no doubt you would have brightened godgrace’s halls, i understand it wasn’t an invitation that would interest all. ❞ in truth, trystane had been surprised that so many had accepted the invitation.
the compliment makes the lady duck her head for a moment to hide that it makes her grin foolishly, far more accustomed to more brazen comments other lords had given her in the past. “ lord trystane, i ask you kindly to not place such words in my mouth,” maeve scolds teasingly, looking up at him with a gentle smirk. “ i would have adored the chance to steal your company and ask the numerous questions about godsgrace that rattle around in my head,” the woman paused, eyes flickering away for a moment before they returned to him. “ my presence was required elsewhere however, i fear. may i steal your attention another time to recreate the experience?”
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knightsfcll:
His mind couldn’t escape the woman he’d met on the staircase. he didn’t know her name, he didn’t know where she came from, and yet he was in his own thoughts as he stumbled upon Maeve whent. He remembered her from the time she had been on the iron islands and even if they hadn’t spoken much he had found her enchanting. his head snapped back up at her comment and he frowned, looking down to see himself stomping on the flowers. he shook his foot, making the flowers swiftly fly away as if they were weeds. A mumble came forth before he looked at her. “Why is it you sound like you want my head chopped off lady whent?” he cocked his head to the side and approached her. “did I offend you in some way during our first meeting?” he had little to no tact and yet he couldn’t possibly understand what he might’ve done to this woman.
the woman had to bite back a laugh that threatened to escape at the absurdity of watching sigfryd shake the flowers out from beneath his feet, if she was less mad at him she may have made a jest about how he reminded her of a deer more than a fish of any sort. however, his mean spirited jests towards victraction sit sat fresh in her mind so she held off on the comment. “ perhaps because i believe you are a crass man, lord wynch,” she declared, crossing her arms as she watched him approach. “ no, not in our first meeting.” while maeve may be upset, she could not deny that sigfryd had been kind and sweet to her when violet first introduced them, he nearly had reminded her of her own younger brother. “ i overheard you talking before we left, you were being rather brazen about lord drumm.”
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scndrenched:
“I would choice to believe such a nice lie from a good friend,” Nyles replied softly, eyes moving back to the horizone that seemed to taunt him. The world looked all too much the same after everything had changed. A world unchanged by the things that had shatted his own. Her fingers in his drew his eye, staring down at them for a long moment before finally admitting,”I fear I’m not sure how long I have been here. I haven’t been able to keep track of the time lately.”
maeve waved her empty hand in the air as if she could easily dismiss any concern they both might carry over nyles’ inability to keep track of time. truthfully, it frightened maeve a fair amount to see her beloved friend so clearly shattered. “ when have you ever been gifted with knowing the time, love? you have left me waiting for you at dinner feasts countless times,” her tone is light, a lie compared to the way her body instinctively moves to guard him from the outside world, as she had done countless times before. “ perhaps for once it is i who has made you wait, yes? stuck here for so long waiting for me to arrive.”
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crvwnfought:
damn him. damn him for holding so much power over him still despite reality being set in stone. he’d always viewed wyllas as a god, but he’d never thought that would make altering his faith so difficult. he had tried rising from his knees, walking away from the alter; the temple’s doors had even been sealed to him, talia caron’s words of his banishment from the family’s chambers had made him avoid that wing of staerdale entirely, but he couldn’t rest. perhaps it was he who was damned, cursed with this terrible affliction that made his chest tighten with worry when he saw pain briefly flicker across the other’s face. eyes widened a fraction, a question almost fell from his lips, but he choked it down. ❝ good day. ❞ was all he said instead. end it there, he thought, make an excuse and leave. only beneath the agony coursing through his veins, there was a calmness, a familiarity. his heart still knew what its old home felt like, and it longed for a moment longer. so trystane looked back at his book. the words blended together; he continued pretending, but after a long moment his eyes risked a glance up, half afraid that wyllas would prove nothing more than an illusion.
it is a mercy from the seven that trystane does not address by formal title, or rather more that he acknowledges wyllas at all and does not immediately turn and run for the farthest spot in the entire keep from the caron. once the pain subsides to the dull ache he is more accustomed to, wyllas begins to return his focus to the passage he had been reading previously. it was regarding the history of storm’s end, from creation to when the baratheons claimed it, and wyllas found it oddly fascinating. perhaps it was because he could easily picture the halls in his mind, shifting them like chess pieces till they fit the descriptions in the book. admittedly, the task was more difficult than usual as wyllas could feel the eyes of the man across on him. it was familiar, bringing up memories of their younger days when trystane would pretend to read as he watched wyllas train across the fire. “ if your book is so boring that staring at me is more entertaining, i can suggest a better one for you, trystane,” he quips, eyes raising from his own read to meet the others, a fond smile tugging at his lips. the man waits a beat more before returning to his own book, though his eyes slip up against his own will as he speaks. “ are you not too cold? i would imagine you would bring a cloak with you, considering how drafty it is in here.”
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crvwnfought:
❝ and i would argue that you are entirely biased, wyllas. ❞ his tone might be lighthearted, but within warmth filled his chest at the knowledge that the man he viewed as a god in human flesh looked upon him with similar reverence. though, he refused to call it equal, nothing could match or eclipse the emotions that consumed him when he looked upon the other. ❝ people are free to believe that one’s worth comes from their prowess as a warrior, ❞ he halfheartedly tried arguing, but all protest faded when wyllas’ hand brushed against his cheek. trystane’s eyes deepened with fondness. he leaned into the touch without a thought. my heart. the words echoed in his head. we must have traded without realizing it. trys felt no panic, failing to think of a safer place for his heart than in the hands of wyllas. ❝ if anyone can make death wait it’s you. ❞ he only had the briefest moment of realization before he was melting, pouring normally quiet emotions into the kiss.
“ and i would argue that you simply take far too much joy in picking fights with me, trystane. you should concede that i am right and spare yourself the inevitable defeat,” the man quipped in return to his friend, lover?, the self serving smug grin that some found charming back on his lips. wyllas found that one of his favorite pastimes, second only to kissing him, was poking slight fun at the prim and neutral way that the man held himself around others. “ and i am free to call them stupid for thinking that way, love.” he brushes his thumb across the other’s cheek, tracing the edge of the beard that trystane kept so neatly. their lips meet and something inside his chest feels as if though it is bursting outward. as if this love is a blaze that is all consuming, pouring from his chest till he is near fearful they may both be on fire. “ do you believe the words i speak now?” he asks once they have parted for air, forehead resting against the others’.
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glvrious:
“me too.” it almost seems impossible to believe but nymeria is no less grateful. “i am sure she will love whatever you give her, wyllas, but she would love it more if you were the one to hand it to her. she is with her septa now but you can come by later, if you wish.” nym’s smile comes easily, yet there’s the added weight of all that has happened with wyllas and trystane. despite her friendship with the former, it is the latter that will always be chosen and so, she did what a good sister would do. however, it did not make her miss her friend any less. if anything, the moment he shares his loss, the way she hasn’t talked to him at all in months only makes her wrap her arms around him even faster. “i’m so sorry, wyllas,” nymeria shares, a whisper given to him after a few moments of hugging him. then, she pulls away, “i ——— i hadn’t heard.”
a tiny laugh escapes him at the idea of seeing ashara again, near certain that she would be far more excited to see the gift he got her. “ i imagine that you both require a break from one another, the journey to new valyria is far longer than the ones we have done to king’s landing for previous celebrations.” the caron is relieved that there is not as much tension that remains between the pair, having always valued nymeria’s friendship nearly as much as he valued trystane’s. the hug still startles him, hands hovering awkwardly over her much smaller frame for half a beat before he embraces her back tightly. “ you could not have ever known, nymeria,” he says softly, pulling comfort into his tone more for her than for himself. when she steps back, wyllas finds he almost misses the warmth immediately, hands falling to hang at his sides instead. “ i wrote to your brother about it. . . i was not aware that he was not reading them . . . perhaps, i would have sent word of it to you instead.”
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crownscost:
once upon a time, dilara had made a handful of visits to the eyrie, rare occasions when they traveled beyond the neck, but they were so distant that the changes making it staerdale seemed inconsequential. while many of the nobles remained in sour spirits, and rightfully so, or begrudged the push of the winter winds, the eldest stark lady found comfort in it. just as she did in familiar company, wyllas a welcome face, even if concern clawed at her at the sight of him. something sad in that far off gaze, so different from the lively storyteller she knew so well. ❝ my good mother may reproach you for the use of that title, ❞ dilara offered, and though her nose crinkles, there is still a small smile that tugs at her lips in answer. ❝ as am i, i have missed your company, ❞ with a small nod in answer, she stepped close, hand reach to squeeze his arm gently. ❝ it’s quite a breathtaking view, isn’t it ? i always wondered if one might be able to see the wall from here. ❞
“ she would not be the first mother to scold me and i am fearful, would not be the last,” wyllas jests, faintest hint of a smile on his face as he turns away from her to gaze out across the view. it certainly was vastly different from what he often saw out his window back in nightsong, and the landscapes of his many travels throughout the realm in his younger years. “ it is quite beautiful,” he admits, hand reaching up to rest over hers on his arms, a gentle pat in return. “ certainly you cannot see the wall from here, we are not that close to the north, yes? ...my geography is usually my strongest suit.” there was a bit of comfort he finds he derives from dilara’s presence, while their friendship had been built on the foundations of storytelling, wyllas had never found the need to lie to the stark woman. “ i am afraid that i did not return this time with stories to tell you, sweet wolf pup.” wyllas speaks after letting the silence rest between them for a few minutes.
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for wyllas: don’t you hate trystane a little for how he’s treated you? he didn’t even care to write you after jeyne died
" i could never carry hate for trystane in my heart, it goes against my being." slight tense roll of his shoulders, honesty forcing its way out his lips. " i am shattered, broken in ways i did not believe i could break any longer. he burned every letter i sent and every piece of me that i sent with them. he has left me with very little of myself left that i recognize. and yet, i still do not hate him."
#i gotta stop answering wyllas sad asks#wyllas caron && honesty#let it be known alex sends all of these
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for wyllas: is there anything trystane could do that would make you stop loving him?
the question makes his stomach feel uneasy, as if he is standing on the bow of a ship as it is thrashed about in the middle of a storm. years ago, wyllas would have not hesitated to laugh in the face of this very question, believing without a doubt that there was nothing that trystane could ever do that would make his heart not beat solely for the allyrion. but with the knowledge he carried now, the weight of the current present between them, wyllas found he hesitated as he mulls it over as if it is stone in his hand. “ i . . . am privvy to the knowledge now, that no. there is not anything trystane can do that would cut that piece of my heart out. despite wishing at times that there was. if only so i could cut him free from the sinking ship i now reside on.”
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for violet: would you ever turn against the harlaws?
" if it meant protecting my brothers, yes. i would hope that they would understand why." not that violet would ever allow such a choice to exist, not as long as they could help it. there was no more need for unnecessary bloodshed.
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for wyllas: what do you think jeyne would say to you if they were here? what would you say to them?
" jeyne would give me an earful about remaining close to the baratheons, for attending stefan's wedding. they'd tell me i need to think less with my heart and more with my head, especially politically," wyllas lets out a laugh, able to picture clearly the lecture that jeyne would have given him after witnessing what he did at the wedding. "i would have stormed off, we have met again to break our fast together in the morning and they would have a handful of ideas and plans for me. jeyne would look at me and go, okay, so you love him, what are we going to do about it?" he paused for a moment, fond sparkle in his eyes at the idea, the shimmer of an unshed tear. " and i would have looked at her and all their plans, and said i love you."
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braxton: what is it about lady genna lannister that you despise her so?
“ where shall one begin? her disregard for her own vassals? or perhaps the fact she remains without a partner or heir?” tread carefully, he reminds himself. “ that she is not true heir to casterly rock but parades herself about as if she is? or is it that she is infuriatingly arrogant as all lannisters are, even in the face of her own potential demise?”
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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.
since his sisters had barred him from the training yard, the look on talia’s face when she found him initially was a strong deterrent, wyllas had been attempting to seek out other outlets to spend his time with. garden strolls without company proved to be a bore and the new chambers in staerdale for nobiles felt overbeating most days. the caron lord had taken to enjoying the library, he’d picked up a book several days ago, picking out a window seat to enjoy it. usually he went unbothered, maybe the occasional acquaintance greeting wyllas, asking surface questions before they moved along. today when he entered the library wyllas spotted a far too familiar body sitting by himself. feet take him over to the table before he can stop himself, pulling out the chair and sitting as if it is not the most fearful thing he has done all week. the man lets out the smallest pained grunt as he adjusts in the wooden chair, still feeling the effects of spending several hours in the yard. “ good day, lord trystane,” wyllas speaks finally, holding his gaze for a moment before it moves down to his book. please do not leave, please do not leave. the plea repeats in his head over and over again.
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for aster: if you had to choose a favourite sibling, who would it be?
“ i love all my siblings equally, certainly not on a scale that varies daily based on how much attention they have given me as of late. . .” aster snorts, nearly goofy grin on his face. it lasts only a few moments before it shifts into something softer, a smile that was more fond than jest. “ i do believe we would all answer the same, regardless of who you may ask. . . it will always be alerie.” the youngest tyrell, the last of them all, the little girl who was the final missing piece in their home. “ i adore the others, nothing shall ever change that. . . but alerie is my other half. not a soul exists in the realm who knows me as well as my sister, who holds onto each secret i tell them as if it is a treasure.” his childhood was full of running after his siblings, but as they all drifted off to other places, it had been him and alerie together in highgarden. sharing books and stories as they walked the gardens, whispering about their first loves. their first heartbreaks. trading jests at their parents expense. “ . . . now do not ask me my second favorite, i have yet to compare their recent performances.”
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