rosaaaryn

[rosaaaryn]

a q u e e n ' s c h o i c e

in the dimly lit chamber, heavy with the weight of anticipation the wisdom’'s voice bore the burden of grief as he delivered the dire news to the king of the north. “only one of them can most likely live your highness. i’m so sorry.”  throughout the evening, the stone walls of the castle reverberated with anguished cries, marking the onset of labor for the next child of house stark. but this time, the arrival was fraught with unforeseen complications. owen, somber and resolute, settled by his wife's side, his hand seeking hers in a silent gesture of solidarity. together, they listened as the sage relayed the harrowing choice that lay before them: the life of the queen or that of their unborn child. in a heartbeat, rosalyn, with unwavering resolve, voiced her decision. her gaze met owen's, her eyes a reflection of unwavering maternal love and sacrifice. "our child, owen. we must choose our child," she declared, her words bearing the weight of an unimaginable sacrifice. rosalyn knew the risks of what she choice. what it meant to have them focusing on saving the childs life. but she would willingly surrender her own life a thousand times over to safeguard the future of her children. if it meant they had a chance. she had known the risks everytime she laid down in the birthing bed. every woman did. and so she choice their child. with a heavy heart, rosalyn embraced the risk inherent in her decision, knowing full well the perilous path ahead. yet, she harbored no hesitation, for she would willingly surrender her own life a thousand times over to safeguard the future of her offspring. as their children were ushered into the room, rosalyn savored a fleeting moment to shower them with kisses, her heart heavy with the bittersweet knowledge that these may be her last embraces. alone with her husband in the quiet before the storm, rosalyn clutched owen's hand tightly, her tear-filled eyes. "don't let them forget me, promise me. please," she implored, her voice choked with emotion. "i won't. i promise you, they will not forget you," owen vowed, his own grief mirroring hers. even he knew the likely outcome of this. grasping onto the flickering flame of hope amidst the encroaching darkness, she spoke quietly to her husband "you are a good man, owen stark. you have a good soul. you doubt yourself i know you do…" she whispered, her voice trembling with conviction. "promise me you won't lose that." rosa could swear she saw a tear moving down his cheek, “i wont.” he promised, his voice tight. quiet and solumn as he made his promise. and so, as the night wore on and the castle fell into a hushed stillness, the cries of a newborn babe pierced the air, a beacon of life amidst the shroud of sorrow. the child was saved, but queen rosalyn was lost to them, her sacrifice felt by all those around her. the child that survived has been named rosalyn jeyne stark. a baby with red hair like her mothers. queen rosalyn will be buried in the crypts of the north, in the customs of the land she had gotten to embrace and call her own. @owenstark

#;;owen #;;self para #tw: childbirth #tw: death

[rosaaaryn]

location: in the great hall of winterfell after one of the nights of the northern games

@anya-snow

the northern games had cast a spell of joy across the castle that seemed to have been in hibernation. laughter echoed in the corridors, people recounting the day's events or enjoying catching up with people. for a land that had weathered the storm of a war, the northern folk deserved the pleasure of celebration, a collective exhale after being ensnared by a man's unwarranted quest for power.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, various houses and families gathered in the great hall for an evening feast. the air was full of merriment, the spirits of the north rekindled by a shared joy. rosa, the queen, found delight in conversing with lords and ladies, the hall alive with the burgeoning cheer of a people reclaiming their right to happiness.

amidst the revelry, rosa spotted anya across the hall and beckoned her lady in waiting to join at the table. with a server gracefully pouring glasses for each, the queen inquired, "are you enjoying the games, anya?" her words carried genuine interest as they settled into the lively mood of the feast.

"i wanted to speak with you, to get your thoughts on some matters," rosa continued, her demeanor earnest. "as a representative for the merchants guild, and with the wars now hopefully behind us, i believe it's time to look to the future of our trade. i know you've discussed matters with his grace before, but i was hoping to hear directly from you." she offered anya a reassuring smile, her intentions clear.

"i think you should consider reaching out to other merchant guild representatives from different kingdoms as one of our ambassadors. alternatively, if you're willing, you could venture to yi-ti. i recall your desire to visit. you would be going as our representative, ensuring northern support accompanies you." rosa spoke with both warmth and wisdom she had recently begun to embrace, delicately addressing a desire she had sensed in anya during their late-evening conversations in the court. she aimed not to pressure but to guide—a gentle nudge towards a decision anya may have yearned for but hesitated to embrace.

#please no need to match length was just setting the scene #;;anya

[rosaaaryn]

.

in the shadows of war the eyrie had stood tall and stoic during the dance, its craggy peaks a fortress against the fighting. yet, for rosa, it had been a haven, shielding her from the grim realities of what war brought to many people. now, the landscape had shifted. no longer hidden  seclusion of her mountainous refuge, she stood amidst the chos, a queen bearing witness to the all of it.

the weight of responsibility pressed upon her but one she would not cast aside. she was a queen, entrusted with lives to safeguard, their hopes and fears mirrored in her gaze. no longer could she shy away, for she had owen's trust and right now that was more important than anything.

amidst the whirlwind of activity, she moved with a grace born of purpose. conversations flowed like a river, each word a bridge to understanding thechallenges that confronted her realm. the influx of refugees into winterfell, demanded her attention. yet, she navigated this sea of concerns with the steady helm of a leader.

her exchanges with some of the elder lords had concluded just as xia-li's voice resonated through the air along with the promise of a moment's rest with her lady in waiting. "of course," rosa affirmed, placing a gentle hand on the ladies shoulder to lead them to a more private area. in xia-li, she found not only a confidante but a vital advisor. her ladies in waiting  were more than attendants; they were the pillars of her inner court. her friends, her adviors her confidons. 

"thank you," she responded, her hands signing along to her words as she spoke. "i will plan to meet with them soon. there will be much to discuss. you're welcome to accompany me later. your insights on the arrivals from fir hold are invaluable. i trust in your judgment."

𖥸 starter for @rosaaaryn, set in winterfell during relief efforts 𖥸

shes been here before. the sense of urgency, anxiety, and uncertainty that comes with times of war. xia-li was much younger when the dance began. a wide-eyed adolescent, who knew nothing of the threats loomimg in darkened skies. she'd lived her life in a rose-colored bubble for so long that when conflict struck the north, she could hardly make sense of the chaos that had ensued. shouldnt she be more prepared now that shes a woman grown? she's been here before. so why does she feel as shaken as she did then?

time to dwell on personal afflictions is few and far between for the lady of fir hold. there are refugees to tend to, people whose own fears far outweighed the ones that keep her hands in a subtle shake and a queen that depends on her help to comfort them. "your grace, a word if i may?" the ladys request is rushed, but she still feels relief in rosalyns presence. a particular picture had been painted for her of what a lady-in-waiting should be, one burned into her memory by parents and siblings alike. she was fully prepared to put on the same facade that she was forced to adorn when in the presence of her peers. that was until the discovery that her queen preferred who she truly was to the mask she'd broken and pieced back together so many times that it was nearly unrecognizable. she feels like herself in winterfell, she feels at home.

"your audience is requested to address the influx of refugees arriving. most of them have been placed and fed, but his graces men need guidance with their rationing."

#;;xia-li #this is very late i apologize #;;flashback #getting my muse back for her!!

[rosaaaryn]

throughout most of her life, rosalyn had been led to believe that her destiny lay within the north. her father, in those rare moments of interaction with his youngest daughter, would tell her over and over to prepare for the north. there she would be away from the vale, from his sight and someone else’s issue to deal with. after all, her sister ravella would be sealing an alliance with a powerful vale lord, making her a valuable asset for the kingdom closer to their own. in this intricate dance of politics and marriage, his other daughter could be used to help the kingdom close by them. thereby securing alliances and ensuring prosperity. but the tapestry of fate often weaved intricate patterns, and the eventual upheavals of war and death transformed their predestined lives.

and yet, here she stood once more, poised for betrothal, this time not to a stark lord but to a stark king—a union that would elevate her status to that of a queen.

upon the first engagement announcement, rosalyn had delved into a tome detailing the teachings of the old gods. recognizing that her children would grow up worshipping these ancient deities, she diligently pored over the book's pages, seeking to imbibe the knowledge. yet, as the days elapsed, the book eventually returned to its place on the shelf, its purpose temporarily fulfilled. now, however, she found herself pulling it down again, gently wiping away the dust that had gathered, ready to plunge into its wisdom again.

outwardly, she adhered to the tenets of the faith of the seven, a virtuous woman of the vale, as expected. but always, there lingered that fractional part within her—a questioning spark. it was not solely due to the old gods book she had perused; rather, it was a lingering sense of unease that never seemed to abate. how could she reconcile the cruelty of her father, who wielded his power like a merciless blade, with the reverence he received within the sept? the hypocrisy of it all gnawed at her. in a realm where faithful followers constantly bickered, killing one another, how could these acts be deemed righteous? for years, she had sat in the sept asking the gods to reveal answers, but none came. a veil of guilt shrouded her thoughts for entertaining such heretical notions, leaving her to ponder whether her father's maltreatment was somehow justifiable. her uncertainty deepened, threading uncertainty into the future she envisaged for her children, whom she hoped to raise in the worship of the old gods.

the eyrie's godswood provided the setting for the newly engaged first real meeting—an apt fusion of the old and new, a bridge between two belief systems that had yet to fully intertwine. a strange kinship settled within her as the ancient trees that should be watching over them, sharing her sense of a divided spirit.

"many attribute the statue to alyssa," she shared, a soft, knowing smile gracing her lips. "my mother was among those who believed it. strangely cruel, isn't it? to cast a statue of her weeping while she ceaselessly sheds tears over the giant's lance.you know the one name my father forbid my mother to name any of us was alyssa. he thought it would bring bad luck down upon them." a faint laugh colored her voice, but it was a laughter born of contemplation as the thought of her father caring for his own daughters. at least he didn’t curse them with bad luck.

as the topic shifted to the godswood's trees, rosalyn's gaze turned towards where the tree should be. "attempts have been made to transplant the heart tree here, but the very rocks seem to thwart the endeavor. an unfortunate pity, for i can only imagine the beauty it would bring to this sacred space," she mused, a yearning note in her tone. “i have read of the weiwood heart tree in the north many times in my books but have never seen one in person before. i am looking forward to seeing the one in winterfell.” 

his next question, led to the briefest of pauses in her response. as she fashioned her reply, it could have been perceived as her merely searching for the right words or perhaps due to the intricacies of her needing to lipread. but deep within, she battled the impulse to reveal her innermost thoughts. yet, in this initial meeting as fiancés, restraint triumphed. "yes, i have been raised within the faith of the seven from infancy. within the vale, there are not many who veer from this path," she replied, maintaining her calm facade. her eyes met his gaze, a subtle challenge in her demeanor. "and you, i imagine you are a practitioner of the old gods. i've delved into texts, but true understanding often evades the confines of mere pages."

| a starter for @rosaaaryn​ | | time: flashback, year 2 | | setting: the day before their wedding, king owen stark and princess rosa arryn speak in the godswood of the eyrie |

They were betrothed once before. Back in a time before the dance. His father thought it would be a great way to unite their houses and their regions, before the dance. Before the war that came and dissolved most unions in favor of others or security. His father talked about it so often that when they weren’t fighting, he tried to avoid the man’s gruff words. And now he would do anything to hear those words again. Sons were meant to bury their fathers, didn’t make it hurt any less. He missed the man now, not half as much as he missed his mother, but he was close to his father. They spent so much of their time together that he often still found himself entering what was once his father’s office and sitting at the table instead of the desk only for Jon to tell him to move.

The godswood of the Eyrie wasn’t a godswood at all. The godswood contained no heart tree. Owen thought it more of a garden than a godswood and he looked forward to the day he would go home again. There was something more important than being homesick and it was securing his family, the royal line, and making alliances. Military and trade alliances and it was best to start close to home. They were once betrothed, years ago. They were quite different now, at least he felt different. Ten years on, war changed him and the crown he wore felt quite heavy.

“Princess Arryn, they say this statue is Alyssa Arryn.” Owen spoke as he walked up to the marble statue of the legendary woman. The crypts of Winterfell were filled with statues of Starks and their direwolves. The godswood of Winterfell didn’t hold any great statues or fountains, only the many trees, the small and cold pool at the ancient weirwood heart tree. “Our learned men say weirwoods can’t grow up here…” Owen didn’t know why he was speaking of the Gods. It seemed a good place to start.

“And you, you follow the way of the seven?”

#got a little carried away #no need to match!! #;;owen

[rosaaaryn]

in the embrace of the hearth, amidst the flickering flames, her father's scornful words echoed like a haunting melody—etched into her mind like a searing brand. 

“warm his bed, have his children and stay silent. that is all that is needed from you in your marriage, rosalyn. anything more than that and you may risk embarrassing us all again.”

rosalyn, burdened by the fear that these words would never truly vanish, knew her role well as a wife in this land of nobility. yet, her life had taken a different course than the prescribed fate. her husband, a man unlike any she had known before, saw beyond those confines, yearning for her voice, thoughts, and emotions.

the weight of responsibility now rested upon her shoulders, and she felt a mix of trepidation and determination as she prepared to lead the kingdom alone, without a fellow stark by her side. only a month after the birthing bed, she was called upon to assume this new mantle of authority. yet, her husband's unwavering faith in her, the trust he placed in his wife—an arryn, an outsider— or had it become she was an outsider to the lands of the vale. perhaps the snow and ice had hardened her skin.

"it is an honor to be the stark in winterfell," she declared, absorbing the magnitude of her new station. "i won’t let you down; i vow to prove myself worthy. when we return to winterfell, i will ensure there is ample space for those seeking refuge."

with their child in his tender embrace, she found solace and strength, witnessing his loving care for brandon, as well as his affectionate she had seen for edric and ravella. his kindness extended beyond his own family to encompass her as well, granting her a profound sense of gratitude and awe. the blessings she had received exceeded her wildest expectations.

"thank you, owen," she murmured with sincerity,. "thank you for entrusting me with our home. i will strive to be the leader our people deserve."

| a starter for @rosaaaryn​ | | setting: in highgarden before leaving for war |

“You will be the Stark in Winterfell. Edric will be with you and so will our Wisdom. He will guide you in matters of state and decision making. You are the queen of the North and it’s time for all to see you as such. Since the Dance, it was a responsibility to fall on Alys’ shoulders as my twin sister and the eldest girl here it was only fit. This time, you have given birth to Bran and Ravella. It is time. Of course, you will be tired as you recover and that’s where the wisdom will come in. I’ve need for Alys that will keep her far too busy for this.” 

Owen smiled at her, settling comfortably with Brandon in his arms. Another boy. Ravella was sleep and little Bran seemed to always be awake, always looking around. Owen promised he wouldn’t keep waking them so whenever they both were sleep he only woke one which was keeping his promise and on this day, Ravella would sleep. “I’ll leave soon and you’ll heal here with Ravella. Much of our court will return North, some prefer Winterfell, but those who will have need of you will be here until it’s safe for you to come home. At the very least, the neck. Greywater Watch is quite secure as is Moat Cailin.” 

Already planning. Always planning. Rebel. False King and his master. He kissed Bran’s forehead. 

“What say you, my lady wife?” 

#no need to match length i got carried away LOL #;;owen

[rosaaaryn]

THE KING AND QUEEN OF WINTER are pleased to announce the birth of the twins PRINCE BRANDON STARK and PRINCESS RAVELLA STARK. the second and third born children of king owen stark and queen rosalyn stark. mother and the two children are reported to be strong and healthy.

@owenstark

#;;owen #;;children #three down 100000 to go

[rosaaaryn]

tears flowed down the cheeks of the queen of winter. this couldn’t be. this simply could not be. there was always hope that one day their niece would be returned home safe. that one day soon she would be found amongst the mountain clans that took her and she would be returned back home to them. reading the letter her sister had given her broke her heart over and over again with each new word she read.

why would her sister allow her to read such a thing without warning? why not tell her herself to soften such a blow. perhaps she thought this would be easier…it was strange. but grief made everyone act strange. rosalyn’s hand clutched at her swelling stomach as she tried to process the news. 

“rowan made me promise i would look after her.” she remembered back to the time when their family was whole. rowan holding his young daughter and making her swear to look after his daughter if anything happened to him. and now she had let him down. at least the guards who allowed it would also be punished. how they could lack in their duty to protect someone so innocent, so young. they needed to be punished. 

“sister please,”rosalyn said looking over towards ravella who’s eyes had barely moved away from the window. “please sit with me, i need you.” she said reaching out her hand for her sister. gods only knew how different they were from one another, they always had been since they were little. but that never stopped the deep connection of love between them. rosalyn doubted very little could ever stop her from loving her sister.

who: @rosaaaryn​  where: the queens of winter and the mountains of the moon sit together within the private bedchambers of ravella within highgarden, upon the news of their niece’s murder being broken to the queen in the north. a corpse had been found, and identified as the late daughter of rowan arryn.

and the sound of the crying that seemed to come from the lips of her sister at the news was a sound that would once have caused something within her to stir, the way it did upon hearing the way rosalyn’s voice would break whilst having conversation within their father. never once had his favouritism of his eldest daughter gotten in the way of the sisterhood they shared. one that was not filled with affection from the queen of winter, but a level of tolerance that could only equate love.

“cry. you need cry. you can cry.”

and yet now, there was nothing as she stood by the window; she had not spoken the words directly to her sister, instead allowing her to read the letter that had been received to the queen directly. the small council had already been gathered, and she attempted to ignore the ways in which lord stone’s dark gaze looked upon her. somewhere along the way, it was decided that sacrifices would be needed to make the mountain stronger. the mountain needed to be fed, and falcons had lived in delusion for long enough. they were not untouchable. the mountain needed to be fed.

“the guards who allowed it were put to death by the lord commander.”

how was it people reacted to news of such grief? did they sob and sound like a wounded animal, pouring their hearts out into the void amidst the wracking of shoulders? no, that would be entirely undignified. but rosalyn would react in that way, considering she was entirely fond of the girl. the daughter of rowan arryn. weakness ran in blood, and thus so did the undoing of their realm. sacrifices needed to be made to make matters stronger again. sacrifices needed to be made to ensure there was no threat to her own legitimacy, apart from what lay between her legs.

#;;ravella

[rosaaaryn]

standing up from her seat, the queen moved to the spot next to her husband and reached out to take his hand. a gentle touch but one to let him know she was there, to help calm him as she could see the tension building within him. even if she could just help to take away some of the stress from him she would. she wished to take all of it from him.

"it seemed that she did not know. i am sorry i had to bring you this news so early in the morning. but i knew you'd find it just as important as i did." she frowned. "i think the criers may be needed. at least in the lands we cannot fully trust their petty lords."

she squeezed his hand as she spoke, understanding his worry. a feeling growing up in the vale she was very accusumed to. "no i do not think they disobey you. i have seen the way your lords look to you. they respect you as a man and a king. i do not think many disobey you. especially after you lead them to a victory in battle with you by their side. they would foolish to do so. this petty lord is foolish to think no one would find out about this."

rosaaaryn​:

there was no doubt in rosalyn’s mind that her husband wouldn’t take this seriously. when they had discussed the new laws of the north they had done so together. she never felt pushed aside or made to feel less than. the laws of the north were an effort for both the king and the queen. after all it was both of their duties to look after the people within their kingdom. men and women alike. “i can get you her name and the husbands name. i don’t think she knew of the law that was passed, she seemed surprised that i mentioned it. the sister did not seem to know either. i doubt she wanted to sleep with the lord before her own husband.” she said, recounting the look of shock on her face when rosalyn had mentioned about the banning of the practice “from what she knew there was at least five wives that had to follow this rule. and those are just the ones she knew about. gods only know how many there actually is.”

rosa hated the thought of what these poor women had to go through because of one narcissistic man. did that mean there were other laws that were not known? most of these people could not read themselves. how else were they supposed to find out about these laws if their lord did not tell them “perhaps we need to find a way to ensure these new laws are reaching everyone. i don’t want to think about what other laws this man might have not told his people…”

o.

“She didn't know? I expressed that it should be announced and now this petty lord must be stripped of lands and titles. Lest he makes me look a fool among my own people and courts. What sort of King cannot handle his own people?” 

And he didn't show much of his anger to her but there is a tension in his shoulders and it's obvious what choice he will make. It was time for examples to be made and when a King stepped in to punish petty lords it bruised the egos of their ruling Lords. It showed a lack of trust from the King to his Lords, a lack of trust the didn’t have when he denied their lords the title of Duke.

“We must send out criers as were used in the old days. The smallfolk can't read. They must know what their lords and knights don't tell them.” Owen felt a brief worry creep into his shoulders, “Do you think they disobey me far and wide?”

#;;owen

[rosaaaryn]

there was no doubt in rosalyn's mind that her husband wouldn't take this seriously. when they had discussed the new laws of the north they had done so together. she never felt pushed aside or made to feel less than. the laws of the north were an effort for both the king and the queen. after all it was both of their duties to look after the people within their kingdom. men and women alike. "i can get you her name and the husbands name. i don't think she knew of the law that was passed, she seemed surprised that i mentioned it. the sister did not seem to know either. i doubt she wanted to sleep with the lord before her own husband." she said, recounting the look of shock on her face when rosalyn had mentioned about the banning of the practice "from what she knew there was at least five wives that had to follow this rule. and those are just the ones she knew about. gods only know how many there actually is."

rosa hated the thought of what these poor women had to go through because of one narcissistic man. did that mean there were other laws that were not known? most of these people could not read themselves. how else were they supposed to find out about these laws if their lord did not tell them "perhaps we need to find a way to ensure these new laws are reaching everyone. i don't want to think about what other laws this man might have not told his people…"

And he looks to her as he starts eating a heel of bread, cutting off a slice of cheese and putting it with the almost burnt bacon. he only paused in his eating when she began to sigh before sharing her words. then the end of this lady's sisters tragedy.

"I will have the name of her sisters husband and the village he looks over. We must have reports of the ladies in the area."

And he took a large bite of the food then took a drink of the black northern beer. His mind wandering as he considered how many agreed to his laws and disregarded them. Criminals would always exist but there was crime and then there was...savagery. The behavior of wildlings.

"We had the strip the Umber lord for the same reasons. One of the few great houses denied dukedom."

#;;owen

[rosaaaryn]

rosa knew her husband was busy and this would be just another thing to add to his growing list of tasks but it was important to stop this in its tracks. "i was getting ready for the wedding with my ladies in waiting and we were discussing the upcoming wedding. young lady mara mentioned how lucky this new queen would be that the first man she got to be with on her wedding night was her husband...." rosa took in a deep breath to continue the story, unhappy with the news she had to present. "after some questions it seems that mara's sister was made to sleep with the lesser lord who looked after her village. and she had no idea that the first night had been banned by law."

Owen wasn't prepared for his morning to go one way or another. He had the routine of his meals and meetings and sparring and sketching and circling back to meals through various points. And honestly, he let his council run meetings without him. And the wedding season seems even busier than most of those seasons.

"Of course, my wife. What's on your mind? Has something happened?" Owen asked as he began to pile food on his plate.

#;;owen

[rosaaaryn]

setting: in the private dinning area within the norths lodging in highgarden. set the morning after the wedding of the new king and queen of the reach

much had been swirling in the queen of the north's mind since she heard the news from her lady in waiting. she did not wish to spoil the wedding night for anyone in the north so she decided the matter could wait until the morning. once owen had settled down at the table, and she had gotten eddie set up in his high chair to eat the queen of the north turned to look at her husband. "darling…i have something i would like to speak to you about. i think it could be a problem." she said, her hands signing along with some of her words.

@owenstark

#;;owen

[rosaaaryn]

Eleanor Tomlinson for Schon! Magazine (2021) ♥

#;;self #she is so PRETTY OMG

[rosaaaryn]

ravellaarryns​:

who: @rosaaaryn where: the great hall, the eyrie, the vale of arryn when: the wedding feast of queen ravella arryn and lord graham royce

The sound of a baby crying won’t leave the very fringe of her mind, as though she could just about hear it over the sounds of talking and the lute, the sounds of footsteps hitting the floor, the sounds of bodies hitting the floor. The ruling Queen of the Vale of Arryn appeared as distant and untouchable as the most holy of stars as she remained sat upon the Weirwood throne, which so many Arryns had sat upon in the centuries, decades, years and even weeks leading up to this very moment; finally the Gods had played their dominion over her in a way she had always suspected they would, and bound the houses together. 

Those houses that were always supposed to be bound, with the two same souls as it were in the very beginning. What had all of this been for, if not to start again in the very beginning? How much of a say did any of them have, over any of it? 

What the fuck was that sound? Who was crying? Her hand clenched around around the weirwood, looking down upon it; was it not a very twisted symbol of that Andal conquering over the First Men, chopping down those trees that held some sense of meaning only to sit upon it. Her hand was a fist upon the edges, her knuckles white as her jaw stiffened; those who had been in the far North had already seen a vision of those icy, dead orbs that now fixed upon the King Consort in his negotiations with the Braavosi dignitary. Why did she feel so, so far away?

 The Queen barely noticed her sister approaching her, the glow of motherhood remaining upon her porcelain features, with hair that had been kissed by fire; the only two Arryns seemingly left in the world, from what felt like  a dynasty in the very beginning. How it had all had fallen down from such dizzying heights, and how she would ensure to fix it, dragging it up if she needed to; the Arryns needed to be untouchable once again. It was the only way. 

She did not react as her sister spoke to her, though there was no doubt the women were entirely opposing figures in what their wedding day had looked like; Rosalyn the blushing bride of the Mountain, and Ravella had not cracked a smile once. That was hardly out of the ordinary though. She looked upon her sister in silence for a few moments, realising she would need to put herself through the same torture she seemed to love putting herself through. She would need to now. There was no other choice.

Oh well. 

.

the music swirled around the halls of eyrie like it had done so many times before and would continue over and over again. although to rosa is was barely audible to her, enough for her to hear what was happening and for her to enjoy the melodic tunes. when she was little, she hated being sent away from parties by her father since if she ventured too far from the room the music would be lost to her. all of the party would be lost to her the moment she was out of the doors, while her siblings could at least enjoy the sounds of it through the halls. ravella was always there for her, ready to interrupt something for her or steer their father’s anger away from her. there was a bond of sisterhood that not even their father could sever from them.

it was strange they were the last two arryns left standing. how their father must be rolling in the crypt to think his daughters would be who would carry on his legacy. it was frightening to think how large and strong their brothers were growing up and to think where they fell to. 

no. she could not think of such things at her own sister’s wedding. this was a time for celebration and happiness. the vale would be in good hands with ravella and graham. both of them cared for the future of the vale, they always had been. they needed that now, they needed people who could carry the burden of ruling.

the music reached its end and everyone in the hall gave polite applause for the dance. rosalyn had thanked her dance partner, a vale lord who said it was an honor to be dancing with one of the arryn queens. and the younger queen searched for where her sister was. and unsurprisingly , she was in the same spot atop her throne. but as she approached her sister, there was no recognition on her face. 

rosalyn knew what this marbled silence from her sister could possibly mean. it was like her sister was staring into another world. one that she could not fathom to understand. while rosalyn loved her sister so very dearly, feeling as if she was part of her own heart, she knew of the walls that ravella had built up. of the cold exterior that must be maintained for some reason. had it always been like this? or lately had the marble become more and more frequent? it was hard to say as her time was spent in her new home.

 “sister are you alright?” she asked, her voice quiet so none other would hear. but she got no response, just a silent look from here sister. oh gods she really was in that other world today. the winter queen took a seat down next to her sister, turning to face her. her hand rested gently on her sister’s hand that gripped the throne so harshly. “come back to me for a moment.” she spoke softly. “something is wrong. what is troubling you? this is your wedding day you should be dancing with the rest of us yet you sit up here all alone.” she said, her hands signing along with her words as they often did when speaking with her family. “i know you now have this new weight upon your shoulders that was not supposed to be yours…but bearing it alone is not something you must do.” she told her. “what is troubling you?” she asked again.

#;;ravella

[rosaaaryn]

anya-snow​:

Location: The North, Winterfell Closed starter for @rosaaaryn​

After the meeting, Anya remained within the chambers of the council to discuss some matters regarding the trading alliance with Yi Ti. King Theon and his trusted knight, Ren, went over some of the details of beginning to send Northern soldiers to the regions of Wan and Shizi as had been agreed. In turn, the blacksmith turned representative for the merchant’s guild and liaison to the free regions of the Golden Empire had informed them both of the upcoming visit from her father and her uncle. Jinhai in particular was someone she knew the Winter King might wish to meet, as her dear uncle was the current head of one of the richest, most influential guilds in Wan. A powerful man in Yi Ti as a whole.

Exiting the council chambers, Anya was greeted by familiar wintry air. Over her warm coat, the raven-haired woman wore a jade green cloak with embroidery of golden thread made from one of the rolls of silk her uncle gifted her on his last visit. Dahlia had sewn it for her a while back but now that the king had legitimized her in Westeros, it felt right to finally wear it. Let there be no doubt that she was proud of her ancestry and the links that tied her to her father’s family.

She walked across the courtyard of Winterfell and stopped to look over her shoulder when her name was called. “Your grace,” the blacksmith said, seeing the Queen in the North. There was evident respect in her tone and as Anya approached the redheaded queen, she also offered a polite bow of her head. “How may I help you?”.

.

a sense of calm had rested over winterfell since everyone had returned from the fighting. it felt like all of them could breath once more. there was no more waiting for a messenger to bring the starks terrible news of a loss of one of their own. it felt like now they could start again to focus on what was most important, which was building up the north to be the best it could be.

there were many tasks of being a queen that rosa had found herself settling into rather well. but the biggest piece of advice that had been given to her was to surround herself with friends in her court. ladies who were smart, and clever, and represented all sides of what being a northern woman could be. there was one woman who had impressed the queen at every opportunity presented to her.

“anya!” rosalyn called out to the blacksmith as she spotted her heading out of the meeting. “i hope i have not caught you at a bad time. i was hoping you could come for a little walk with me, i wanted to ask you something.” she smiled. “although it should be inside or else i think the wisdoms will throw a fit given, well…” she said motioning to her stomach which was growing more and more each day. 

heading back into the relative warmth of the castle, she waited for the other to join her. “how are you enjoying your new position so far? i know everyone is excited to see what new opportunities are ahead of us now with bringing in new ties to the north.” the queen said. “i believe the king and i share a vision for what new people could be brought into the north and find their home here. there are opportunities for people to move beyond where they have begun….i believe that is important”

#;;anya

[rosaaaryn]

location: winterfell, the day of the king’s arrival back home

@kingtheonstark​

news spread quickly throughout the castle that the king was spotted riding up to winterfell. everyone was abuzz with energy getting everything ready for the return of their king and his men. a feast would be held in celebration of his safe return and the good news brought from the war. there would be planning that would require her attention but right now rosa did not care for any of that. all she wanted to see was her husband. to hold him in her arms and know for certain that he was safe.

perhaps the pit in her stomach would be gone, the worry that had settled there the day he had ridden off to fight. the worry had only grown once she had learned the news of her pregnancy only a few days after he departed. the news kept secret from him as to not distract him while out at war. it had been a difficult decision to make but one she knew was right. 

but four month in now her stomach began to swell more and more visibly with each day that passed. the wisdoms and midwives had begun discussing the possibility that she was perhaps carrying more than one child given how large her stomach had already gotten. a likely outcome given her husband was a twin.

outside the triumphant sound of horns echoed across the castle as the king’s party entered the castle's walls. there was cheering and celebrations from all who were outside. all welcoming back their king and heroes. rosalyn hurried down the halls to make her way there, leaving behind her ladies in waiting encouraging her to slow down. but how could she when theon was here? when he was right outside. she hurried until she arrived at the large curved door that lead to outside, taking a moment to pull herself together as a queen should before stepping outside.

and there he was. alive, safe and finally home. “my king.” she smiled seeing him in their home at a last. the pit in her stomach already disappearing just seeing him here. taking the steps down to meet him in the courtyard, reaching her hand out for him. “welcome home.”

#no need to match length just wanted to set the scene #;;theon #she is so happy to see him!!!

[rosaaaryn]

L U C R E Z I A   R E D W Y N E 

“Because the woman spent her life caught between different roles, roles that clashed and caused mayhem and chaos and tears to her personal life, a clash that came more into play than it did for her male counterparts. ”

penned by bambi

@lucreziasredwyne

[rosaaaryn]

R A V E L L A    A R R Y N

“no, she felt a literal sense of belonging over the place and the people in it; as though she could reach her hand out and it would cast a shadow over the entire realm. everything beneath that shadow, all the souls that came under such a cloud, would be under her control; her judgement, her mercy - the king remained the king, and yet, the woman had grown hungry for power. ”

penned by salma

@ravellaarryns