zakariyamallisters

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

whilst it was common knowledge and understood that house tully's strength was rooted in it's respect from the banners that surrounded it, zakariya himself was no doubt one of the least critical voices upon the small council, despite his sternness often giving inclination of being an issue. "i found no insult in her intention, ayca. you may wish to try it for a change, considering all i've heard."

never needing to be a contrarian for the sake of hearing his own voice, he found there was much advantage to casimir tully's leadership; a king who ruled with his heart and his morals was far easier to trust than one who ruled with a brain rotting of ambition, or with his cock.

"it was a worthy conversation." he responded, taking a sip of the black coffee that was often known to be drunk within old way communities; dark, with no tea within it. that in itself was a compliment to the eagle of seagard; to be called worthy, to be considered a practical use of time in reflection rather than a waste of it. he noted the scowl that crossed over the features of his oldest sister at the matter, shooting her a questionable look; as though he were wondering what the issue was in what he had said.

"we both laid our concerns. usually we find ourselves clashing, but…it appears we did not, despite disagreeing." he blew slightly on the top of his drink, swirling it around in the traditional cup it came from. "his grace will accept it, even begrudgingly. the others who have a hand in such things, will push back." by others, he spoke of lord frey and lord mooton. those who made their money, those who needed further security.

"i understand why they are concerned, but in the end, it is money that concerns them more than security - as much as they state otherwise. the vessels are still available for purchase, just at the price we can dictate for ourselves, and from our gates." too many hands in the rivermarket, too much discussion about setting prices for vessels and services alike; there should only be one who did such a thing about their work.

"they simply do not like the fact we charge our own price." which in itself was fair enough; but zakariya would not budge on the matter. it was for house mallister to dictate, and none other.

though there were often times where ayca was grateful for an individual in her life, there was little opportunity for her to express such a thing, and rarely did her pride call for it to be said aloud. with zakariya, however, words would not be able to convey the sense of thankfulness she felt for him. he was the ever watchful eagle, guiding them. it seemed he had already thought steps ahead, chapters ahead, really, on the matter that presented as a potential obstacle for this match.

she were not looking for a reason out, but ayca would not be honest if some small part of her hoped to have reason not to marry - instead of simply refusing to. something about declining a perfectly decent suitor of their way felt rash even for a woman who held her pride like a shield in battle. she swallowed down the thoughts in her mind and the feelings that had become a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. grief was an ever lasting feeling that she found herself struggling to truly ever accept in the end.

perhaps it would be easier if the lines here did not blur with that of the faith in oldtown, under the gaze of the hightowers, whom she disdained.

“beyond limit.” she repeated, voice just above a murmur as she mindlessly tapped a finger upon the oak table between them. “i’ll admit i do not care for it, but i’m willing to understand it.” matters of state did not really interest the eldest lady of seagard, preferring to focus on the dealings of her house, everything coming second to what was ultimately for the good of house mallister. there was only a brief period where her mind shifted in this regard.

ayca hoped the younger one would soon marry and they would not be under one roof. she was not unaware of the things said about him, so called rumors, that were perhaps nothing more than that. in that moment, she was grateful for the topic change, allowing her time to process her potential future and instead focusing on matters at hand.

“did she?” a dark brow rose, a slight scowl almost coming over her face. “surprised? it’s insulting.” arms crossed over her bodice now, shifting in her seat as if to further quell her agitation on the matter. “house tully holds it’s place because we banded together and allowed them to.” she took a sip from the goblet before her now. “you are a faithful servant of the king upon his council. they are not entitled to more than that.” it were no secret the lady’s good graces were hard to achieve, and the crown was no exception.

“it is not our job to clean up the boy hand’s mess and put our coin into a market that is hemorrhaging gold just to rebuild itself.” hand was still wrapped around the goblet as she thought. “how did you respond?”

#c: ayca #ayca 002

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

the furrowed brows that etched themselves upon the features of the princess of the land of rivers that stood before him did not go entirely unnoticed in response to his words, and for a moment he found himself looking with a sense of momentary awkwardness and confusion. "it admittedly is custom, your highness - as you know of. and it too is the deserved truth." zakariya spoke, as though to assure her this was something he done often; but it was also deserved to her.

still, for a moment it were as though he had started to wonder what it was she was displeased about before he even continued with his words, and yet, when her expression softened slightly he too pieced together what had occurred: she had expected them to get into some other tense matter.

perhaps he should have referenced it, but he decided against it, instead merely meeting her softened expression with the nod of his head and a look of kindness. the last he was intending to do was to find another thing they would disagree about, especially because he could bet on much that there would be some other instance where they found themselves disagreeing in some professional setting; there were glimpses of reflection that crossed over her features.

whilst he did not regret his stance on the matter of her ambassador role, he knew he had come across far sterner and harsher than expected: it could have been met with some level of appreciation for the work she had done. instead, he focused only on the pragmatism of it all. it were not necessarily that things would be better without her involvement, but the term he would use would be clearer; should roles be obvious, and respect maintained.

an ambassador could find themselves in tense political situations, could find themselves being thrown out if escalatory measures occurred - and none should be throwing the princess of the riverlands out like some common subject. he rose from his seat as was royal protocol when a member of the royal family was departing, again lowering his head in a form of respect and placing his hand upon his heart at her wishes.

a movement often found within communities of the old way, indicating toward acceptance and appreciation, whilst not necessarily speaking the words. "may we all, your highness." he straightened to his full height now, watching as the servants in the room also dipped into a curtsy for iona as she prepared herself to leave. he remained on the other side of his desk at his next words. "know i have taken your words into account. whilst house mallister will remain severed from the rivermarket, it will be my priority to ensure the realm knows of our support."

Allow it time, the Lord of Seagard said. It was a reminder that she needed to hear, and it was somewhat unexpected that it came from him and not from someone she felt more closely tied to. The Princess of the Riverlands accepted those words in silence as well, just as he'd taken her praise, a light tilt of her head in appreciation.

“Perhaps you're right, my lord,” Iona replied after he voiced his opinions on Lord Frey and Lord Mooton in regards to the River Market. Her words were diplomatic, vague. She was wary regarding both men, if she were honest. Freys and Tullys had had a contentious relationship for too long, unfortunately. It would be ill-advised to not keep a guard up regarding the Frey lord. Perhaps she was mistaken, but she believed Declan Frey was more likely to see after his own interests than that of the realm as a whole. As for Jalabhar, his great losses had most likely placed him in a position of having little faith —and little love— for the River King. It was hard to trust men who felt indifferent, men who felt slighted, to keep the beating heart of commerce alive in the Riverlands.

Casimir needed to tread carefully in the coming months to rebuild what had been so horrendously torn apart.

Iona believed their conversation had come to an end. Lord Mallisted hinted that it was not. Her brows knitted into a most subtle frown, readying herself for whatever it was the man would say next. They never saw eye to eye, she was reminded, despite having had such a cordial and honest conversation. What he said surprised her, however, and her expression softened as she acknowledged how unexpected his last words were.

Amenable as she'd been brought up to be, Iona almost assured him he needed not worry, that his past actions had not done any damage. She stopped herself from saying it, though, for it would have been a lie. His stance had offended her, it had caused some pain and anger. The princess knew his opinions had not been aimed as a personal attack, merely being his perception of how things ought to be. How they would be better. “Thank you for saying that, Lord Mallister. I deeply appreciate it,” Iona said, understanding the weight of him bringing this up ahead of layatal-ikhlas, aware of how meaningful it was. “You have my forgiveness, of course” she added, offering a gentle smile. “And I hope you achieve what you wish this holy month, my lord”.

#c: iona #iona 001 #a wrap on my end!

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

a finer detail came in what zakariya noticed was absent in the words of the newest member of their court, rather than what was present; by asking what the equivalent of yule was, the lord of sealord had been expecting to hear of some activity rooted in some form of religion or faith. the braavos had many faiths across the narrow sea according to what he himself had heard, and yet there was no mention of a god or gods in reference to such celebrations: it made him only think of how religious the continent of westeros truly was, as opposed to other locations.

"i was not expecting a lack of any deity's presence, lord commander." he responded, his tone honest, frank and curious - and yet, there were hints of an underlying statement too. that there should be the presence of a god in such a time. "especially considering the braavosi have so many to pick from." gods knew those more fanatical had caused upheaval in the holy land across the narrow sea; such notions needed to be reigned in.

a silent relief came over him when considering the plight and the migration of his ancient lineage and ancestors; to settle here, rather than someplace else in essos. "the fourth night is the one of my name." the lord of seagard responded, his tone calm and yet remaining as reserved as it had been mere moments ago; truthfully he was not one for entertaining in such an aftermath, not when the mood of the realm remained so sullen and vengeful.

alas, there would be some opportunity to be used in such a time where it seemed as though all would be well - a perfect guise, for wrapping up what needed to be settled. "usually all celebrations are held on a riverboat style of vessel, docked in the harbour of riverrun." the ceremony in itself was of little use to zakariya, but was rather something his sisters held much protectiveness and pride over, a night for them to put forward the best of themselves and push forward their good name. to be noticed, no doubt, would be the aim. it was his job to ensure he was not focused by the wrong sorts.

"it is a quieter affair than the previous nights. most use it as an opportunity to cleanse their body of the liquor before continuing for the nights to come." there was some amusement in his words now, as he fondly recalled the amount of rivermen and women who would be thankful for the array of teas and food to help ease the pounding ache in their heads. "and you? what questions have you found yourself wondering since coming to court?"

the lord commander was not a fool to understand that he were the outsider in all of this, though he had always attempted to present a front that attempted to integrate himself into these things. of course, lysano understood there would always be some sense of being on the outside, but he hoped eventually he would feel as if he were more welcomed than he were. the master of ships was a calm and collected man, from his observations and their brief encounters, and perhaps the lord commander saw opportunity to extend some sort of connection with the other, despite the seeming reserved nature etched upon the other's face.

though lysano understood these times especially were tense, and took little personal offense to anyone who looked at him and wondered his place, but within this realm, and opinion-wise. "understandable, certainly." the braavosi responded, folding his hands on the table before him. he did not care to take to drinking much during these times, having set his goblet down and leaving it be for the time being. instead a watchful eye always scanned the crowds, in case he was needed to play the part of mitigator in some feud.

the question from the other took lysano by surprise. it were rare that anyone had asked him about his home since he had stepped foot in the land of the rivers - casimir had known him greatly, but he knew there was going to be a time of trying to find some common ground with the others. he did his duty, and did it well given the skillset he had obtained as a bravo, but that did not necessarily relieve him of any suspicion from others who knew little of who he was. lysano knew he had to prove himself, in some way, to the others upon the council of the king, and he would happily do so with any opportunity he was given.

and one came now, so it seemed, from the master of ships himself, who lysano would state was perhaps the most collected of the councilmen, but perhaps the hardest to earn the trust of. the lord commander shifted slightly, giving a small clear of his throat, a grin on his features as he thought back to a time when he were a young boy. "the uncloaking." he answered, running a hand under his chin now as eyes seemed to dive into some distant memory. "the sealord uthero had revealed our existence to the other nations, and thus every year on that day, we celebrate in what we call the uncloaking of uthero. there's ten days of dancing, theatre, drinking, of course." lysano gave a soft chuckle, tone light. "i suppose that is the closest thing we have to yule. my brother and i were always the bravo's in the children's play, of course, i grew up to become one, and he grew to maintain the household."

perhaps such small revelations would offer insight into who he was, whether or not the lord of seagard cared to know. lysano took some pride in his home, his family, despite the circumstances that lead him to leave it all. "so i am aware every night belongs to a family for yule. which night is yours?"

#c: lysano #lysano 001

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

"better to not know." when did emira mallister not have questions of some sort? there was a time where his youngest sister's presence was an irritation, a thorn in his side; her consistent attention seeking and ability to wrap their parents around her finger, starting fights at the dinner table and with some tears, being the one owed an apology by the end of it. most of it came with the younger three, though there had been times where zakariya himself had been pulled into it; and now, he thought back on those times with such nostalgia.

"i think it is being out of seagard, seeing everything else…" zakariya spoke, kicking his boots off as he crossed the other side of the cabin, walking seamlessly despite the rocking of the waves beneath them.

"makes you wonder why, about multiple things. then all you begin to think of, is why - for anything and everything." there was the potential for zakariya to talk about his own days and time in the war; following their overlords house tully in the choice to fly the back flag, and watching the riverlands be engulfed in smoke for their choices. zakariya mallister did not speak of what happened during the war, the levels of wretched he felt he had reached; how he had betrayed himself and would he stood for.

he had noted the world was not as he once thought it was, the people he came across - well, there truly was the worst of the worst out there. but men picked themselves up, and learned to handle it. learned to cope. zakariya had been incredibly close to the family septon upon his arrival back from war, recognising the benefits that came with merely speaking of matters. of himself, of what he had seen, of what he had done. he spoke to nobody else of it, but as time passed, he became more and more like himself.

"he is doing what any man should be doing. i would be there myself, if i did not have seagard to look over, and the position on the council." she continued to speak as he crossed the room, picking up some oranges in the fruit bowl; sailors needed to ensure they ate such things. he threw her an orange as he walked over to her, listening to her threaten that she would drive him crazy one day. there was a glint of mischief in his gaze as he sat down beside her.

"as you also aim to drive lord manderly into insanity every social function?"

.

emira ran her finger over the embroidery symbol of an eagle as she listened to her brother speak. trying to pull some strength and comfort from their symbol. pulling from her family to strengthen her. she could not fully understand the feelings soldiers fighting in war. she doubted she ever would. perhaps there were aspects of war that her brother might not ever understand that she felt. it was strange, something perhaps all of them hoped was behind them. but it never was

“i am sorry for asking such lofty questions. i dont know why it has been stuck on my mind recently. ive been thinking about it over and over again and then those men on the dock. i don't want you to feel like you have to explain yourself to me in your time on the battlefield. i suppose it is nice to know more or maybe it's best not to know. i don't know. curiosity about all of it might just …..i don't now” she sighed and shook her head, as if she was shaking off the thoughts and emotions . letting it fall off of her. trying to let herself forget her worries right now. let the emotion go. but why was that so difficult. “i hope for glory for our brother or purpose if that is what he wishes, but for him to return safely to us soon.”

laying back on the small settee, she looked up at the ceiling feeling the way the boat rocked them over the water back home. “it feels like it’s going to just be you and me home in seagard soon enough. i think our brother needs to come back before then or i fear i am going to drive you into insanity.” the said, a hint of a smile on her face now.

#c: emira #emira 002 #yay banter #my babies #OOOP #multiple seeds planted here

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

aye, the realms were to be joined together through the union of a king and a princess; a matter zakariya himself remained undecided about, for there was no denying a clear lack of proportion when it came to the union. welcoming and accepting a bride whose brother had threatened to kill his own princesses was something he found himself thinking about often - wondering how long it would be before the lions attempt to spread their influence further in the west.

there was only one house that was benefit greatly from that - the brackens of stone hedge, who had flew a green banner during the ten year war.

it was going to happen, regardless of any advice issued at this point in time: the king desperately needed an heir, so why should the brackens be the only family to benefit from such a match? zakariya noted the sternness that transformed in her voice, a facade she seemingly slipped on with a sense of ease - or was it the truth? he would not know, and he would never know; only noted an interest in the change in her approach, as though she were sat opposite a man of the westerlands and needed to speak in such a way to be taken seriously.

her reference of naval assets intrigued him, only because he was not aware of the extent of house banefort's naval abilities. a house located on the coast would have access to some naval resources, though truthfully, he would not take vessels from house banefort as any marriage deal. they needed them more than house mallister did. still, he remained silent as she spoke: surprised at the manner of which she had remembered there was still a mallister brother that was unmarried.

zakariya himself was unmarried, and yet judging by wanting to marry her sisters off first, it was apparent that her focus were her sisters.

"i do indeed have an unmarried brother." zakariya responded, his hands clasping together upon the desk that remained between them. "the only issue arises when considering the fact he is across the narrow sea, handling the rhollorists in alayim." the holy crusade remained ever present in the background, a matter the high septon had managed to use to his advantage to avert all criticism of his practices.

"whilst he could return to be wed to a respectable woman of house banefort, i tell you plainly, he will not remain permanently in westeros until there is a final outcome." meaning, lord mallister was more than wiling to see victory, or die in the name of it.

as zakariya thought it his right to do. it was what any man should be doing in this moment. he too would be there, if he were not ruling lord of seagard, master of ships for casimir tully, and had a five year old daughter of his own to look over. "should you find this adequate, i will send forward the message and inform him of plans. i will give you no word of a man that is not my own, for it is his choice when we all come to the table."

soft hush of rushing water is almost enough of a distraction for the lady to forget what it was that brough her to the riverwalk in the first place. she feels a pang of envy for those who share a home realm with her maternal lineage, though shes grateful for the honor and proximity of being housed within the maidenvault. she must not allow herself to focus on such trivial things at a time like this, and a guards subtle tap to the shoulder informs her that now is as good a time as any to clear her mind from anything but talks of marriage. 

the responsibility of seeing that they all find themselves in something advanteageous weighs heavily on amerie and the mallister family might aid in the respite she so desperately seeks when the guards confirm their meeting. frame adorned in fitted red silks and bodice seems to float through the threshold, as expected of all western women. they were sights to behold not to be heard, but its vital that within the anticipated softness, lies the demeanor of a stoic businesswoman in the face of her peers.

"then i'd do well to speak with haste, hmm?" quick quip as she settles into the seat offered, smoothing down the skirts of her dress out of habit before resting darkened hues on his own. eye contact is key when amerie conducts business. she has very little trust in those whose gaze falters, especially when politics factor in. the belief that the eyes hold ones true intention wades in the back of her mind while she takes in his features. wartorn from years of a violent dance, annointed with a heaviness that only true loss can implement, and yet he is much easier to look upon than most men who wished to talk trade. "our realms will be brought together soon, and this union has.. inspired me, my lord," she begins, tone shifting from one laced in velvet formality to a more stern, focused cadence. dealing with men in the west has taught her that femininity only gets a woman in power so far. she needs rigidity, and a sense of formidability that shows in the way her posture holds firm despite the comfort shes afforded.

 "you have an unwed brother, if memory serves me correctly, and i have three sisters in the same predicament. i feel that our advanced naval assets could be beneficial to one another should we decide to forge a union of our own. i'd like your thoughts on this matter, if you have any." there is no trace of nervousness in her voice, not when shes practiced this proposal at length before she was even granted audience with him. she harbors within her the urgency to push her sisters far from the oppression shes sure to be met with as a wife in the strict west when her time comes. 

"do not feel the need to mince your words in my presence, either, lord mallister. i fully intend for this to be something both families find advantages in and any concerns you have will not fall upon unwilling ears."

#c: amerie #amerie 001

[zakariyamallisters]

who: @ameriebanefort where, when and context: kings landing during the festivities of jaehaerys targaryen's coronation, lady banefort requests an audience with the ruling lord of seagard. this is set following the announcement of casimir tully and guinevere lannister's betrothal, and courtiers from both regions are increasing their interactions with one another.

a sole ruling lady was truthfully something that zakariya mallister always found himself holding a sense of sympathy for: and whilst in some circles simply admitting that would be enough to cast him in an unfavourable light, there was no denying the fact that they were at greater risk than others across the realm. to hold the sole responsibility for their house, when society and the world had spent the majority of their upbringing raising them to be something else, meant they essentially needed to be two separate people.

a ruling lady in the west, was a mighty test by the gods; and when the associates of house banefort extended their wish for an audience, he found himself wondering what it was house mallister could do for them.

but was this not also going to be the norm? his king was to marry her princess, and so, just as in social settings their association had begun to increase, other matters would be brought to the table too. he scheduled in time for meeting with lady banefort, and truthfully found himself distracted in other matters until the time drew nearer. in actuality, he had uncharacteristically completely forgotten about the audience until just some moments before it happened - when he heard the sounds of guards speaking with one another outside.

raising himself from his chair and putting aside the confidential documents about the riverlands naval abilities, and where they would be directed in coming weeks, zakariya mallister nodded his head for the lady to be granted entrance into the apartments of house mallister. as she entered, his bowed his head in a respectable manner, whilst also making the effort to lower his gaze. it would not be foolish to claim she was a great beauty, and during such a time, zakariya knew better than to think of such things - and truthfully, he did not. which was why the thought surprised him greatly.

one would not know it, though. his composure remained the same as it ever was. "lady banefort." he spoke, his voice and accent a unique mix of old way and riverlander, raising himself back to his full height. he wordlessly indicated toward the spare seat, where there was a single cup of tea awaiting her, as well as food. most knew he would not be partaking in such things. "before we begin, i regret to inform you i have a meeting scheduled with the hand of the king in the next hour." he did not want her to begin talking about something, and then he would need to cut her off. "should the discussion not be able to be completed today, my pages will be in touch to reschedule a time best for you."

#c: amerie #amerie 001 #way longer than it had to be but muse got meee

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

the eagle of seagard remained quiet in the face of her gentle hint into the inner workings of her mind; clearly fraught with a sense of anxiety and feeling increasingly overwhelmed regarding matters that had too many moving pieces. it was equally a weakness to the riverlands as much as it was a strength, the communal nature that extended toward business, coin and security as well as socialisation. too many hands in a pot only resulted in the contents becoming dirty, or used up; there was no tracking who did what, and at the end of the day, it all simply became a blur.

such was his issue with the river market being the economic heart of the realm; it was too centralised, and therefore too easy a target.

at her words, he made no obvious positive response to the praise; only a nod of his head, and his hand resting slightly upon his chest as though to accept her words of gratitude. whilst he knew his place in the great circle of life, it did not take away from the fact that a subject was happier to serve when their overlords were aware of the work done for them. for them all. "allow it time." zakariya spoke, his voice calm and composed; warm in it's essence, rather than emotively. such was the strength of feeling steadfast experience.

"lord frey and lord mooton have a great deal invested within the market, and for all of the tensions between them and the king, neither take kindly to losing money. they will oversee it's redevelopment." and truthfully, zakariya had no issue with them doing that; he meant it when he said he would have nothing to do with the market, and that included not getting in the way of houses who would benefit greatly from it. "with the guidance of his majesty." zakariya added, his words more of an implicit warning than anything else - though he would not make that fact obvious.

and then came the next matter. it was not foolish to claim there had been some tension between himself and the princess, considering he had vouched for her to be removed from the council as ambassador. he knew how seriously she took her work, considering she was here in good faith, and not even in an official capacity. the holy month was approaching, and soon he would begin his period of re-focus, discipline, and betterment.

"whilst your highness is here, i believe it a good time to address something." zakariya's voice sounded as though it were going to be some form of conflict, confrontation: that was the furthest thing from the truth. "i understand my stance, and my manner of speaking, may have been cause to offend your highness. as the holy month approaches, i ask you for your forgiveness should my words have insulted, or pained you."

While the two of them might not always agree with the words the other spoke, Iona was at least steadied, even reassured, in the knowledge that the man before her remained as sincere as she did toward him. His honesty had angered her in the past, of course, but she never let go of the gratitude for his honest words, regardless of how sharp they were. Here, looking at the Mallister lord, even in his silence as he processed what she'd spoken, she could see he would only speak truthful words to her.

He would not consider her proposal, however, something Iona had prepared herself to be the outcome of this talk. It wasn't a reply he gave because it was her asking, it was a reply given because of the complex situation the realm found itself in. The princess nodded, understanding, albeit not pleased by the outcome. The Lord of Seagard had his reasons, valid reasons, and for that reason she did him the courtesy of not arguing or attempting to dissuade him further.

The Princess of the Riverlands glanced down at her cup of tea for a moment. She lightly tapped her fingers against the porcelain and nodded softly again. “Your guidance is most appreciated, my lord,” she spoke as she glanced up, serene and sincere, “I know for a fact my brother is grateful for it. We all are,” she added, meaning her house as a whole did. Not all of the Tullys were or had been politically involved, those that were at present were so on varying degrees, and the experience and objectivity a man like Zakariya Mallister brought to the table was invaluable.

“The River Market has suffered greatly, and I'm aware of what you speak of, Lord Mallister. I fear we might have lost all that made it an asset,” she admitted, for an incident of the scale of the fire that crumbled the hard work of so many, an event that stole lives, would not soon be forgotten. It was a complicated request, asking people to put their faith —and most importantly their money and resources— in such a space again. “I must admit I'm at my wit's end, my lord,” she let out a breath, for she had run out of ideas on how to fix the current situation within their realm. It was not hers to fix, some would say. But as a Tully princess, was she only meant to sit still and do nothing? She had relegated herself to such silence and inaction following her removal from Casimir's council, and Iona found she could not follow such a course of action anymore. It was not natural to her.

The feuds between the houses was another matter that concerned, of course. It felt like such conflicts were simmering waters that would boil before they knew it. Was it not best to interfere before? How to do so was beyond her, though. Years upon years of hatred and resentment weren't easy to ignore. Blackwoods and Brackens. Tullys and Freys. The princess raised a hand to her temple, softly brushing for a moment before her fingers moved to tuck a strawberry blonde lock of hair behind her ear. “You're right, it is not your duty nor your responsibility,” she replied, “Though I cannot help but feel it is mine”. The princess steadied herself quickly after such an admission, not wishing to appear vulnerable before a man like Zakariya Mallister. It was an honest statement, of course, but one that revealed more of her heart than she wished it had. “I do thank you for your time, Lord Mallister, and for the courtesy of listening to what I wished to say to you,” Iona said, pivoting back to the reason behind this meeting.

#c: iona #iona 001 #that ramadan “forgive me if i have wronged you” is so relatable deadass

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

it had taken some time for riverrun to return back to it's usual ways, and slowly but surely, the initial attack upon the river market at the hands of the lysene terror slowly seeped away, as the rushing trident rushed into the cape of eagles. various lords slowly began making their return to court once securing their own fortifications and their families, including the likes of zakariya mallister and jalabhar mooton; the men remained on distant terms, regardless of the moment in the midst of grief where he had provided him some reassurance and helped aid in some of the funeral arrangements.

still, the lord of seagard remained on a table within the bustling hall of riverrun, speaking closely with a certain vance lord when he heard the sound of another addressing him. he did not even know the other enough to know of his voice so seamlessly, and yet, the reappearance of his face to court suggested more than it truly showed. "lord mooton." zakariya acknowledged, nodding his head in greeting: taking a moment to consider whether the man was simply walking by, or sought him out specifically to speak to.

gods knew, he would go and speak with the ruling lord of raventree about his bastard of a brother, and how this was the only time zakariya would not call for retribution. not before he spoke to the man in question himself, however; he knew all too well that people had different temperaments, but there were lines that should not be crossed. he found himself wondering how was it he had gotten to such levels of comfort, and ease. the man rose from his seat, standing to greet the man in question - all whilst wondering what it was he could do for him.

he had a sneaking suspicion, before the words had even been uttered. "what is it seagard can offer you, my lord?" he asked, his tone remaining as formal as it always as; his arms crossed comfortably over one another. his posture suggested defensiveness, and no doubt, zakariya would need to find himself stating his case again.

who: @zakariyamallisters summary: after the burning of the trident, lord jalabhar mooton seeks the assistance of lord zakariya mallister in acquiring ships for maidenpool. he does not wish to pay the mallister price for them. he aims to convince zakariya to join the river market in this meeting.

The scrolls he received that morning were promising. Three separate scrolls. One with hounds. Another with cooking pots. And the final bore a horse shoe in the center. It was starting as he promised it would start. They would be accidents. Hounds would suddenly turn on a master and bite out his throat. A cook would fall off their stool and be burned by they stew they prepared. And stables were often kicked to death due to carelessness. Even the most trustworthy of stable boys could startle a loyal mare and the shoed hoof crack their chest. Accidents. So many accidents happening. He would expect more of these letters, these drawings to be fed to the fire. One less problem for him to concern himself with, for now.

"Lord Mallister." The lord of Maidenpool walked over to the Lord of Seagard. There was something else that needed to be done. Yes, it would benefit the realm while also benefiting himself. He needed those ships. And he was prepared to do whatever it took to get them at a reasonable and fair price. Could House Mooton afford to pay the Mallister price? Of course they could. Did they want to pay the Mallister price?

No. No he did not. Jalabhar Mooton prided himself on his ability to get what he wanted and this would be no different.

#c: jalabhar #jalabhar 002 #oop here we goo

[zakariyamallisters]

ooc 2024: ramadan kareem guys! ramadan is due to starrt tomorrow, meaning layat-al-ikhlas is to commence from tomorrow too for all our old way characters.

LAYTAL-AL-IKHLAS (NIGHTS OF DEVOTION)

“in the month before the harvest festival, there is a holy month, called layat-al-ikhlas. it is known the holy month will start upon the sight of the full moon. people of the old way fast from sunrise to sunset for thirty days - this means no food, nor water. during this time one is supposed to focus on grounding themselves, becoming more godly and grateful, further develop self-discipline and giving alms to the poor. drinking is also prohibited at this time. the old, the sick, young children, pregnant women and women on their period are not expected to fast. it is a communal time of year, and giving to charity and the homeless is very important, especially during layat-al-ikhlas. your fast does not count if you are not giving to charity, feeding the poor and meeting your prayers. it is believed the angel that remains on your right shoulder will write more good deeds to present to the gods during this month, than any other time in the year.”

ooc: ramadan kareem! it doesn’t start until wednesday or thursday depending on when we see the moon, but i already know i’m gonna be exhausted/have no energy. 

#the old way ; of the faith of the seven.

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

it were for this very reason the ruling lord of seagard and the master of ships to king casimir tully had supported the removal of his sister, the princess iona of house tully, from her position as riverlands ambassador from the council; there should be no way in which a lord, a man lower in social status than her in question should be and could be able to look upon the face of the woman and reject a proposal. at her words, he merely placed a hand upon his chest, bowing his head in sincere gratitude; for he knew she was not lying. her words were genuine, and this conversation, whilst it could become tense at times, would remain genuine.

to say no, to the royal; to have the very ability to say no to the royal rather than be forced to come to some sort of compromise is what made her different. he was not sure if that were a good or a bad thing, but the royals had their role within the realm; truthfully, he was surprised the conversation remained cordial considering the tense history between the two, often disagreeing and not seeing eye to eye before she was ultimately removed from her post. and now they had ended up in the position they were currently in.

zakariya mallister drank his tea scalding, with mint leaves remaining within it to ensure the taste remained sharp - it was not sweetened with honey or any other substance, and it remained tart. he took a drink of it was the princess spoke frankly of her motives, and her concerns: it were clear to see the concern upon her face as she spoke openly to him in regards to what rested heavily upon her shoulders. she had always been skilled with her words, attempting to persuade as well as offer suggestions, and as per tradition, it was zakariya who remained firm in his beliefs and his point of view.

"delegation is more than possible, however i cannot bring myself to consider it a worthy option in this moment of time, your highness." to barter and negotiate with a princess was something he found himself wondering why he had to do; he even found himself wondering whether the king himself knew she was present to argue the case of house tully. "any of those in the naval service of house mallister would be able to undertake and supervise the building of a ship; it is part of the training, and most take a year to complete it." he explained, a mere hint in the process that built the backbone of the riverland defence upon the shores.

it were something his father and lord arlo redwyne had come up with together. the one year training. where had the time gone?

"thus i can, and will, return to riverrun as the heart of the realm to offer my guidance and counsel - only, the vessels will remain behind seagard's gates." he wished to share his opinion that they would always be the weaker of their neighbours. that they had made themselves the weakest by insisting on joining in on the race, rather than accepting what their true strengths are. it were the same for kingdoms as it was for people: there was no use in pretending to be someone you simply are not. "currently, i regret to inform your highness i believe there is a lack of benefit to the rivermarket; economic advantage does not outweigh security, in any matter." her next words made him pause; closer collaboration and feuding between riverland houses?

then, there came a pause. "a more prominent presence of house tully is not needed within the economy of seagard, but it would be of greater benefit elsewhere in the realm. or less so, in some places." these words came to him with a sense of finality, knowing there would be no changing his mind. "the blackwoods and the brackens will continue to shed blood, it is better to remain out of there way than risk being dragged into their blood feud. it is not my responsibility to tidy such a matter, and neither is it the duty of your highness."

Tea had been served for them and the Princess of the Riverlands went ahead to blow on the hot beverage. No part of her had been looking forward to this conversation, for any interaction with the Mallister lord could easily turn tense or even antagonistic. This was a meeting to listen and be listened, however, for she wished to find a way to potentially sway the lord's steadfast position to remain entirely disconnected from the River Market. Find a good enough middle ground even, if possible. The Lord of Seagard was a strong figure within the Riverlands and his presence in matters political and economic was meaningful.

Iona knew Lord Zakariya Mallister to be true and loyal, a matter that was not being questioned and wouldn't ever be, lest he gave House Tully a reason to do so. Despite their differences, the princess easily acknowledged the man sitting before her as one of the most capable within her brother's council. “Your reasons are understandable, Lord Mallister. However, is a form of delegation entirely off the table?” she asked, her tone still calm, still entirely cordial. “Please know I do not suggest it be done by anyone other than whoever you deem worthy and capable of doing so, so every effort dictated by Seagard can continue to be monitored as you command, and the high quality of the ships maintained”.

There was a brief pause and Iona set her teacup aside, leaning forward over the table, ivory fingers lacing together.“We've always done each other the courtesy of being honest,” the princess spoke, “So I will be entirely transparent with you now”. Such honesty had been cutting in the past, of course, and Iona had found herself on the wounded side more often than the one wielding the sharpest words, she thought. But still, honesty was honesty, and it was a precious luxury not found everywhere, not found with everyone. “The situation in the River Market has destabilized us more than anyone would care to admit”. Lives had been lost. House Mooton, in particular, had suffered so greatly that Iona now worried what the aftermath of it all would represent for Qorban, how Qorban would react to it all. The image of the Hand of the King had been smeared and there were whispers about her cousin's inadequacy to hold such a position. There was the whole matter in regards to Lys as well. So much had been shaken, crumbled.

“We are being seen as weak, my lord. We've been an easy target,” the princess uttered the words in a lower tone, a hint of something beyond propriety present in her voice. It was the subtle inkling of the boiling waters that Iona Tully never allowed herself to show in public. “Arguments and differences between Riverlands' houses are almost as inherent as the rivers that cross our lands”. It was their lifeblood almost. It was to be their downfall one day, she feared, unless certain changes began to take place to foster more unity. “I suggest a closer collaboration, a more prominent presence, that is all. You're respected amongst my brother's council and his court, Lord Mallister. Others would follow your example,” she stated, ready to offer personal support and funding, but waiting to do so until she head the lord's response.

#c: iona #iona 001 #these two interest me sm

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

"most feel this strange buzz. like a high, that can turn to excitement, or apprehension. no amount of training readies you for the real thing." her questions, initially muffled against the material of his tunic as she initially remained within his casual yet loving embrace, were questions that surprised him: whilst he knew the great change in their family unit was enough to cause her to feel a sense of anxiety, the greater questions regarding warfare and what it was to be a man were matters he was not expecting to hear from her in this moment.

he remained quiet as the words seemed to endlessly flow, a direct contrast to the way in which her tears slowly ceased to fall as he offered her a handkerchief, stitched with their own family crest and emblem.

an eagle, an animal he always found boring in his youth; whilst others had symbols of wolves, lions and stags, his own was an eagle. he understood it now, and only wished he understood it better then. "it isn't the amount of sword practice you've had that helps you survive war. it's the amount of experience you have surviving around those more experienced than you. you learn from them along the front lines. learn from listening to a commander, then you become the commander."

"keep in mind my words are not law, but…" he trailed slightly, sitting comfortably in the chair, feeling the sway of the currents beneath them in the cabin his sister would remain in for their journey back to the riverlands. what a weighty topic, and yet, it made sense as to why such matters confused the younger woman; how matters were often glorified in ballads and in books, and then she heard her brothers speaking of acts of war over the table. they always avoided the gruesome details, but it was easy enough to read between the lines.

"i think it comes with age, and wanting a sense of purpose. our brother is not ruling lord, and as much as he is important to us, he thirsts for more. and that is okay. people need to search for a greater purpose." it would be sheer cruelty to bound one to the life of being second, and allow them none other grace: there was nothing wrong with zakariya looking the other way, fulfilling his duty whilst his brother sought out his own. the currents of the gods would bring them together once again. "much of it is not happiness as you think it, but the morale of the men. their spirits, the state of them mentally…you'd be surprised the impact it has on the outcome of battles."

and then there came the cause. the cause, which changed so much. "the last time the men went to war, it were over the birthright of valyrians; they were honouring their pledge to father, and then me, and the oaths we took to the crown. there was no real feeling in it, not after the years had passed. we fought to see the finish line, and gods it just kept pushing back." he rested a hand upon his jawline, absentminded - his face looking as it did when he were deeper in thought. "this is different. this is something we are invested in, from the top of society to the bottom. we are involved because we want to - not only because we have to be. so the men will raise their spirits, for themselves…and the mightiest of all kings."

in the gentle glow of the fading daylight, emira's words hung in the air like one of her soft melodies. “you know he will mope if he gets there and is turned around.we will never hear the end of it. and you know he will never be rid of me, married or not. i am suppose to annoy him, it is my job as both of your little sister" a hint of a smile graced emira's face, a delicate bloom in the shadows of worry, as she pictured the return of their brother and by gods grace unharmed. while she had never picked up a sword in her life she knew there were many ways a man could be harmed in a war such as this. and not all of them were physical. if she could keep her family all safe in seaguard together she would want it. but deep down she knew that was not who they were. not what the mallisters represented, what they stood for. they’d always fight if the call was just, if they were needed. a weight carried by those noble enough to take up the cause. it made her proud of her brothers but always made her so fearful for them.

emira wiped away the last of the tears on her face, thankful her brother did not comment on them.she feared that any comment would unravel the delicate composure she had gathered. but she needed to be strong. she needed to be as noble as her two brothers. "it feels selfish when i know why you must fight, when i know innocent people are being hurt," she confessed, “but i am thankful you are here with ayca and i. i have seen you go into war before and i thank god you are still here with us when so many people did not return back.” she frowned. 

“i cannot say i will ever understand the fighting that men seem to love so much. i heard people talking about their excitement to go fight. they seemed so happy to go join everyone across the sea. i wanted to scream at them on the docks when i was saying goodbye to our brother. i just…i dont understand it. and maybe i am being foolish but i cannot see how someone would be excited for this.” she said looking down at her lap, her fingers nervously picking at the hem of her veil “were…have you ever been excited to fight? is he excited?” she said, asking of their brother.

#c: emira #emira 002 #you and me is a forever kind of a thing ; above the rest (the children of house mallister)

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

there was always a strange interest he found within the faith of the old gods, the faith that was the original amongst the entirety of those native to this continent on this side of the narrow sea. it were peculiar to imagine a time where the old faith continued beyond the neck, beyond the halls of raventree hall; where even the houses of the west, the reach and even dorne worshipped the children of the forest. it were from a time before the rhoynish ventured across the narrow sea, when they remained warring with the valyrian freehold and their empire of blood; his dark orbs looked over the godswood, not with a sense of judgement or distaste, but genuine interest.

to disturb a man in prayer was something zakariya found the most unbecoming, regardless of his status in society; gods knew the bastards of the world would need to remain in touch with the gods more than most others.

he could see devotion upon the man's face, and whilst his own personal beliefs thought otherwise regarding the religion that clearly surrounded him in this moment, he would rather the man used his gods to centre himself into a better individual rather than be a non-believer. it were better he remained on his own path, if it made him a better man; the bastard of raventree hall had always had a surprising presence amongst the family, something zakariya himself found surprising. he wished to ask of the social position of bastards according to the old gods, whether the view of them was as harsh as those of the faith of the seven - but he would not.

"admittedly i have always found myself wondering why weirwoods specifically?" he asked, his question genuine as he stepped over a fallen bark in the godswood, the sound of twigs snapping causing a reaction amongst the trees. he looked upon the man and truthfully had no real reason to be stood here, only he had a thirst for knowledge; there was no danger in curiosity lest it be followed with good manners. one's manners were always their beauty. "they are both present within all the natural world, but also watch specifically through the trees? is that correct?" he asked, wondering why an omnipotent, omniscient being would need to watch through specific trees if they were everywhere.

Lucius Rivers felt the mystical and ancestral pull of the gods whenever he stood before a weirwood tree. The alabaster white bark around the trunk and the vision of red leaves crowning the tree felt familiar in a way that the bastard couldn't put into words. It was like coming home. It was like a sweet drowning of the senses. It was beautiful in the most visceral kind of way, it was inexplicably awe-inspiring. Sacred words or translated notions of the divine were irrelevant to him, really, his religion needed no specific prayers or songs, no holy texts, no explanations of how the existence of the gods could be proven. They just were. He felt it deep in his bones, in the quiet trance-like state of praying to the primeval forces of the world.

His eyes opened, and the bastard of Raventree Hall took a moment to ground himself back again after conversing with the gods. Praying for him wasn't so much thanking, asking, or begging. It was mostly listening. He heard the secret whispers of the ancient beings in the rustling of the leaves, in the subtle creaking of the bark. He breathed in deeply, once more grounded in the world. That was when he took notice of the Mallister lord. “You did not disturb me, my lord. I was done”.

Standing up from his spot, the tallest of the blood of Blackwood regarded the lord with silent curiosity. He’d never had an individual of another faith ask him about the system of beliefs that shaped his whole existence. “The old gods are nameless and they are numerous, my lord. They exist in the natural world, everywhere around us,” he said, then he glanced over to the striking and natural embodiment of his spirituality that was the weirwood tree before them. “The weirwoods are sacred, you see, for the gods watch us through these trees,” Lucius stated with a subtle kind of devotion, his tone remaining calm, his gaze steady despite the fervor of his belief.

#c: lucius #lucius 001

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

there was an atmosphere of privacy that seemed to wrap around the settlement of seagard; though it remained entirely busy, both in terms of bustling at the ports and within the halls, there was familiarity in each corner one looked for one of their own way. the sounds of their ancient tongue being carried over the sea breeze, the sound of sailors taking oaths tauntingly whilst attempting not to push one another into the waters below. home continued to be home, even after a sense of loss and sorrow had plagued the halls; there is no place within the entirety of the world that sorrow and loss had not tainted. it was not about learning to remember in ways that did not weigh down the soul, but let it flourish.

there was a way to make humour out of a situation, in which mathis rowan jested about his feet remaining in one place as of yet; it was enough to cause a grin to cross over the features of the eagle of seagard. "let them roam, or remain planted; as long as your location and wellbeing is known, there is no use in limiting what you love." he spoke, moving to take the tray that was given by the serving woman of traditional mint tea; it was offered to the second son of house rowan seamlessly.

"do you intend to join us in kings landing?" zakariya asked, referring to the upcoming trip to kings landing for the coronation of jaehaerys targaryen. "that is one place i'd skip if i were able to." but he was not able to; it was his responsibility to accompany the riverlands court to the castle of the greens, where no doubt the brackens would feel comfort and ease.

now was not the time to think of the fractures of the riverlands court - how fractured it was. was the court of the reach so fractured? so openly fractured, or was it more of a quiet matter? "the family are well, my sisters have done me a great help in helping to look over my daughter, and my brother has decided to take up holy arms. he is across the narrow sea, and keeps in regular contact." no doubt mathis referred to the fact that in the time he was absent, almost the entirety of a year, his wife had passed away. an ache that remained, though he could only be thankful that her passing was peaceful, in their bed, with him by her side. it seemed as though with all the shock of murder and betrayal, one forgot how simple sickness could transform into a monster of it's own kind.

"yasmin speaks to me of bekir. all the time. gods know why, considering he looks like his father." he jested, referring to the fact the two five year old children of house rowan and house mallister were betrothed. they would wed once they came of age, in that time zakariya would have provided more heirs for seagard to ensure that burden was not her own to bare. "i believe she intends to write him letters too. so that may something to hear of in the future." there was laughter between the two men; it was only natural marriage between their families would occur sooner rather than later. "how may i help you, mathis? you know seagard is always open to you, but is there something you wish to discuss specifically?"

the opportunity to visit seagard came about unexpectedly, but mathis rowan would be remiss if he did not make efforts to reintegrate into the world that spun beneath the soles of his feet. a world that he once yearned to explore every inch of, now strange and terrifying, yet beautiful and remarkable all at once. the second son of goldengrove had indeed had his fill of traveling, exploring the seas, essos, and hoped one day to even go beyond, perhaps where no one had traveled before. though there were many tragic tales of the world far east and south. stories of the creatures that roamed the lands of sothoryos. he had always wondered if it really could be so bad. that was before, of course. before, he lived in some state of blissful ignorance.

the golden heart that beat inside of his chest did not extend to those around him. mathis knew this, in some way, he knew that not all had good intentions, or even if they did, their actions did support that. gods knew there have been many decisions mathis had made in his life that had good intentions that were not always so. there were always actions taken that were purposeful and foolish. though he tried to exhibit a demeanor of calm and rational, mathis had before did things that were anything but.

before. the life he had before he came to understand the dark and tumultuous world beyond his own mind. not even memories of the dance could withstand what he endured in his time in the summer isles, though he would say they were anything but the warm, welcome presence of summer. it was a dark and dreary time, comparable to that of a frigid winter though it could not be for the sun had bared down upon him as he stood in the raging heat for what felt like days. he closed his eyes, taking a breath of the sea air, grounding himself for where he was now.

he was asked for, specifically, and mathis would not say no. zakariya mallister had been an extension of his older brother, in some way. he admired the man greatly, the way he managed to extend kindness and a firm hand in the same manner. the other's comment caused a grin to spread over his features. "my feet have remained firmly planted more, as of late." he responded, a jest to his tone, though some truth behind the words as he returned the other's embrace.

he followed the other into the home, overlooking the sea. it reminded him very much of the arbor. though he found the weather this time of year to his liking, the coolness of the breeze upon his warm skin was welcomed. "it seems every time i visit i find myself amazed all over again." he gave a chuckle as his had swiveled to admire the architecture and decor. "how is yasmin? your family?" the man before him, too, had endured a great loss not terribly long ago.

#c: mathis #mathis 001 #just picture they're talking in the old tongue bc i cannae be bothered to get open google translate #good vibes only

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

the khitan had been an event in which the majority of their own people had come together, the men and the women first separate before mixing with one another as the food began to be distributed. there was a moment of strange surrealism, to realise they were stood talking in their own tongue, listening to their own music and eating their own food within the red keep - one of the major symbols of valyrian power within the continent. he felt as though he were seeing things when he looked upon and saw the dragon king himself briefly making a visit, even hearing him refer to the lady redwyne as auntie. it was enough to make zakariya pause, his goblet to his lips; a quizzical look clearly upon his face. perhaps ayca would know. perhaps tirius would?

the men made their way back towards the tower, zakariya in slightly lighter spirits due to the drink he had consumed that night: when zakariya mallister had taken to drinking, he was often in higher spirits, though in a quiet way. more willing to laugh and engage in conversation, rather than do something foolish that requires attention upon himself. "tirius, tell me you know why the dragon king calls lucrezia redwyne auntie?" he asked as the men made their way through the corridor, zakariya half reading a letter from his brother regarding updates in alayim he'd no doubt have to reread in the morning. "auntie, twice. i heard it."

and the rowan lord started to speak on his children, the eldest specifically; tahir had given his parents a hard time as of recently, no doubt a result in being in two places at such momentous times. dramatic culture shock to add to the mix, and the clear differences in everything he had been taught - no wonder the young man began to lash out. "were we not the same?" zakariya asked, wondering whether aiyla rowan's overly protective nature had rubbed off on her son - tahir was growing into a man. this was the age in which young boys began to set their sights on who they wanted to be. and then, there was silence at the news.

"why would i say that?" zakariya asked, his hand moving to his chest; though his movement was not dramatic or sarcastic, but genuine. as much as had his reservations when they were younger regarding tirius rowan's choice in wife, there was only so much he would say and express, and even that was when he was asked to. it was not common tirius asked for opinions, especially on his wife. what man would? "have you spoken to a septon? it is possible they can attempt to organise conciliatory discussions before the official proceedings begin."

| @zakariyamallisters | | setting :: the riverwalk, riverlands tower | | the coronation | | summary :: walking back after arlo's khitan |

"There are so many blondes here I've decided to not acknowledge anymore unless they wear a crown. They got us in the Red Keep. And I can hear the sounds of my ancestors screaming in my ears as I walk down those halls. My mother heard this was the next stop and refused to come. Refused to allow the children to come. My wife has stayed to save the children from mother and Tahir has insisted on coming here because he wants to melee and such. Said he wants to make a Valyrian bleed. I would be concerned but I've been so proud of him, you see. Ser Tahir Rowan. Lovely."

Drunk. In his celebrating at the little khitan he found himself recounting stories of his boys and drinking with some of the men. And drinking to keep himself tightlipped in the presence of the Targaryen King. They fought against him and while those old feelings were long gone, he found a distaste for the Valyrians. Mistrustful, distasteful breed of people. Twisted, ugly things.

"My wife will leave me when these conflicts are over. And perhaps it will be after we return should we conclude this Lys issue is a nonfactor for the Reach." They had no issue with them. Pride kept his wife there. None would accuse her of being a spy and none would accuse of running. But when it was over. It was over. "Divorce. Tahir is so angry he called her a whore. Also why he's here. Needs a firmer hand. You can only smack the shit out of someone so many times before their face becomes leather. Trust me. Feel my cheek." He paused in his steps. "Oh, it doesn't smell like shit over here. Anyway, go on. Say it. Say you were right. Asshole."

#c: tirius #tirius 003 #not the cause and not the cure for it existed long before us (tirius of goldengrove and zakariya of seagard)

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

it were the perfect example of why of all the houses within the land of flowing rivers, it were house mallister that remained the most civilised; aside from the personal differences that seemed to cause fractures between the houses beneath the river king, it came down to image. the image people put out when they were no longer behind their own doors, and whether they came across as sophisticated members of a royal court, or spoiled, temperamental individuals with a new taste of power.

the smile that crossed over the features of zakariya mallister was not one of genuine warmth, but it were almost minimal mocking; amusement not at the situation, but at the sarcastic element within the tone of the blackwood woman before him. it seemed as though they were all struggling to find their place within the world, their close association with a bastard making that all the more apparent.

"strike me you did not, lady blackwood." zakariya spoke, amused at the way in which she seemed to grab the arrow from his hands like a pudgy toddler. "the tree bark suffered it's fate on my behalf." they were clearly not taught manners within the walls of raventree hall, no doubt stemming from the fact she was one of the lyseni offsprings, and then next came to the widow that was known to be incredibly bitter and hostile to those around her. house blackwood was a clear example of what happened when adults made wrong choices; a large number of children attempting to fill the shoes of their elders.

he cleared his throat slightly as he overheard the sound of his sister and the lady in question's sister continuing to have a tense, heated discussion; it was not as much of a discussion as it was the mallister lady speaking over the other consistently. "she is entirely within her rights to be so." zakariya mallister would not speak a word against his sister to those he did not consider one of their own; he wondered whether the hand of the king had spoken of his frustrations with the fact the lord of seagard refused to engage in any trade within the rivermarket, enforcing mallister pricing upon vessels and ships. they did not need to be like the rest of them; they were above the rest, in more ways than one.

"you will find i have no qualm, lady merindah." he assured, his tone not sarcastic, but genuine in his words. perhaps she would not think it so, considering he did not call for ayca; neither would he call after her as though she were a dog at his beckoning and his command. "only that the next person you almost kill will not be as accommodating."

to say that merindah was excited to be bringing out margaret to practice archery would be an understatement; she had always wanted to bond with her sister this way, though she knew the woman would be happier in the walls of the castle doing something else other than watching arrows fly into targets. the only sibling she could share her love of the sport was with lucius as benadict couldn't bother with bonding over such things being a ruling lord -- he had more important things to pay attention to than his twin. like his lady-wife, or soon to be. with her blonde hair, amethyst eyes and slender frame resembling their own mother, merindah wondered if he accepted the offer due to missing her. the thought crossing her mind as she shot off her arrow caused her to miss the target and almost hit a gentleman walking along with a woman.

the mallisters.

sharp lilac eyes glowered at the sight of the mallister who decided to tell her what her problem was; if it was only two inches to the left, it would've struck his head, but it did not. why would he complain? merindah was highly irritated already due to margaret's scolding the whole way over towards the mallisters which just flamed the fire in merindah's voice as she snatched back the arrow without thanks at first. "there is not'in wrong with my vision, my lord. if anything, i figure you' vision would be in question as i did not strike you, you's not bleeding or injured." a slight slip of her accent due to her annoyance. the blackwood woman had no reason to even fathom harming anyone with her archery, though now that she thought about it, lucius had been right that her aim was slightly off this day. much weighed heavy on the red raven's head with her brother's betrothal and the ever-looming presence of the ghost that haunted the halls, calling herself the rightful lady blackwood when she had no right to the title now that meri's father was deep in his grave.

crossing her arms, merindah glanced at the mallister woman who was digging deep into her sister and frowned -- if meri wasn't careful, her face was sure to be stuck in the same position it was in right then. "does your sister have to be so hot-headed about the situation?" a quick adjust of the bow slung across her shoulder and a swift hand wave of dismissal, "it's not that serious to be getting so riled up about." as much as merindah resented the words, she figured an apology was expected from her -- as a respectful woman of the riverlands but also due to the fact she did almost hit someone with her stray arrow. "i'm sorry," merindah said with a hint of sarcasm in her tone, still eyeing the man in front of her. she wouldn't call herself versed in the people of house mallister, though she did know that zakariya seemed to be more handsome than she had imagined which helped her case as the fire that began started to cease. "sorry for almost hitting you. 'twas an accident, i didn't see your 'ead there. 'twas aiming for the target behind you."

#c: merindah #merindah 001 #the mallisters are so snooty its so funny

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

zakariya of house mallister did not know the lord commander of the riverlands. a man that had been brought back with casimir from across the narrow sea, an association rooted deeply with braavos and the band of the second sons. there was a clear difference between lysano and the other council members upon the table in the chambers, each time they brought into it; lysano remained the individual who separated himself from the constantly infighting and strain between the houses of the riverlands, instead watching.

because his ambition was a personal one, rather than protecting the legacy of a house, or rebalancing the scales of an ancient blood feud that was all the riverlanders ever seemed to hear of.

"lord prestayn." the master of ships greeted, his tone amicable, moving aside a goblet that was in the man's empty space. why gesture as though to ask whether to sit, and then take the seat anyway? zak's face stilled slightly, wondering whether he somehow wanted to seem approachable as of this moment in time. the answer was no. these nights were lukewarm at best, because of the context: there was an issue they remained dealing with, and celebrating during it was tone deaf. "it is worse this year, considering the circumstance." he did not need to elaborate.

personal ambition, family ambition; it was all a thin line, and yet, zakariya had not yet found himself entirely warming to the new presence in the riverlands court. and thus, he took to doing what he usually did: maintaining a civil distance from himself and the individual in question; there was no knowing what the king had done across the narrow sea, and who he had tangled himself up. to expect all council members, who shared an ancient lineage in the land of rivers, to simply accept him and be as warm to him as the king was, was frankly inaccessible and foolish.

still, it would not be obvious to see the hesitance zakariya mallister had around the lord commander - for there was a clear lack of disrespect in his tone. just indifference.

"what is the equivalent of yule in braavos?' zakariya asked, wondering whether the man had family. did he simply leave his family behind? did he not care for any relatives he had left?

setting: the riverlands, the first night of the yule feast ; starter for @zakariyamallisters

the lord commander of the riverlands enjoyed a good party. as a young boy he was no stranger to the gathering of people, the way food and drink could bring others together, the importance of community. perhaps he was used to somewhat more lavish celebrations, but he found the festivities associated with yule pleasant and intriguing. hailing from such a mix of cultures, lysano was interested in understand more of those of the river, who could trace their heritage back thousands of years.

a goblet was in his hand, though he took small sips from it as he observed the crowd. while it was a party, of course, he would always remain observant of his surroundings. he had mastered the art of being seen as he wished to, or blending into the sidelines of the room. the lord conversed with others here and there, hearty laughter erupting from him at jests made, and in for the first time in a while, he felt some sense of belonging amongst these people. the man did not expect acceptance, for he was clearly not one of them from the way he dressed to the thick accent that rolled off his tongue, but he was granted it, anyways.

dark hues spotted the master of ships seated at one of the long tables, seemingly observing who lysano saw to be the man's own sisters engaged in their own conversations. the eagle of seaguard, he heard the man called. an eagle indeed with an ever watchful eye, a protector even from a distance.

the lord gestured to the chair before the lord before taking it, the scrapping of oak legs upon the floor mostly drowned out by the lively jig that played in the distance. lysano raised his cup to the other before taking yet another small sip. "my lord mallister." he greeted the man. "i've experienced my share of festivities, but...seven nights of this? surely they are all at each other's throats by the end of it." he joked.

#c: lysano #lysano 001 #uncle zak strikes #im laughing so hard

[zakariyamallisters]

زكريا

"it is all for a good reason." zakariya spoke, his tone almost bitter as he thought of the rapid changes that were taking place within the land of the west: as much as as he found the entire process of shifting spiritual power onto the crown abhorrent, the nature of the lines blurring between god and king in oldtown resulted in this. it were not as though the westermen did not have enough cause or enough of a reason to wish to take power into their own hands: all had seen the spiral decline of the quality of the septs. the way in which corruption spread amongst the ranks of the faith.

"that is the majority of the issue. it is not as though they are acting beyond reason. just beyond limit." his face was one of irritation, sitting comfortably within the chair their father was sat within in the office rooms of seagard. "honestly, nothing irritates me more when people have a valid point behind their radicalism." it were almost comical, and if it were not about ayca, perhaps he would laugh about the matter. all knew the state of oldtown: they had lord hightower, who married a braavosi amidst the issue with the crusades. rumour had it the hightower brothers were fractured, if those whispers were to be taken into account - what would become of the centre of the faith, when the leaders were so disunited?

at her next words, paced with a sense of appreciation and quiet understanding that zakariya had always shared with the oldest of his sisters, he let out a low chuckle, his hand coming to rest on the bridge of his nose. there was a time where he did not know if they would ever be able to come to the point where they were able to laugh on matters such as these, even with sad fondness; and yet, here they were. discussing matters as though this was their first time. hopefully, this would be their last time, if matters were handled correctly and done right.

"weird, as though we have had this conversation before. and we have." he spoke, his hand resting upon the shadow of his dark beard; thinking on a variety of different matters.

"i intend on speaking with both the marbrand brothers, seeing as you will be living with them both." zakariya was not oblivious to the rumours which he had heard regarding the youngest one: however, zakariya was always aware and biased to the fact that men of the old way often treated their own with more respect. a sad fact, but the truth that he was not bothered enough about to change. "i keep you updated and tell you when i am ready to go ahead. after that, take as long as you need."

he paused, taking a drink and clearing his throat with the change of conversation. "has any tried to speak with you of our lack of presence on the river market as of yet?" he asked. house mallister would indeed increase their standing, but carefully. pragmatically. not by diving in headfirst to fire that continued to burn. "the princess iona requested an audience with me, in which she tried to speak of the importance of us banding together beneath the king and crown. it surprised me, honestly."

ayca nodded, chestnut curls falling over her shoulders as she listened to her elder brother reassure her that there would be no insistence that she accept this proposal, that the choice was left entirely in her hands. how grateful she was for his understanding, kind nature. the eldest lady of house mallister had seen her brother in many states, but she would always see him as a warm, constant presence in her life. he the sun, and she the moon. while ayca mallister was far cooler, solemn, the light that did shine from her was a reflection of his own. she trusted him greatly.

his quip regarding their little sister elicited a small smile from her lips, cutting the tension that had begun to rise within her. she knew emira would likely pretend as if all was well, but she knew her sister better than that. "i'll talk to her, too." she assured him.

it were not set in stone, anyways. it were merely a discussion. ayca had heard little of him from imane, though, she only knew they were not particularly close. she assumed the eldest lord marbrand was more strict, conservative, but that didn't necessarily put her off from the possibility of marriage all together. ayca also weighed the very fact that she was a widow, and she would not be getting any younger. she did not want to be the solemn sister of zakariya mallister all her life. while it was not particularly easy to think of marrying another, she did not want to be a spinster, either.

orbs watched her brother pace, laying out all he knew of the other man, which was very little. she supposed he was also private, which was fairly in line with her demeanor, too. "i'd be curious to understand that better as well." she admitted, not quite taking a liking to the reformation occurring in the west. "he must have good reason, i should hope."

she shifted in her seat now, form visibly relaxing the more they openly spoke of things. ayca found it settling to state things aloud, to think aloud with someone she trusted and who understood just how her mind worked as well. "that is true." she responded with a nod. "she does not speak often of her house, but i haven't asked much, either." certainly anything of concern would've been discussed between the two women. ayca knew imane was focusing on her impending birth, and the status of her family and new home in the north.

"thank you, zakariya." she stated after a pause, appreciation laced in the three simple words. "it's....well....it all feels strange. doesn't it?" ayca did not detail her meaning, but she believed he would understand, as a widower himself.

#c: ayca #ayca 001 #you and me is a forever kind of a thing ; above the rest (the children of house mallister)