The Northern Court Was No Stranger To Upheaval, Usually Riding On The Back Of Tragedy. Dacey Had Learned

a temporary hush fell between them. usually when such silences fell, it kicked dacey's mind into overdrive, always assuming the worst of herself, always trying to figure out where she had gone wrong. but there was reassurance in his voice, and her cheeks turned half a shade more flushed when it hit her that she had missed the point, completely overlooked that this was simply banter between brothers, even if one of the brothers were not there to hear it. it still did not feel like her place to poke fun at aleksander behind his back, but neither did she need to explain and overexplain it, neither. she breathed out, and nodded her head once more. "thank you."

it was a common pattern for dacey. for a brief moment, her defences would lower enough for her to speak without thinking, until her mind caught up with her and forced her to re-examine what she had said. and then she would doubt herself. she spun, but continued to try and maintain eye contact with him, glancing back over her shoulder with her neck twisted at an awkward angle until the only option was to turn her head the other way. for a brief second, confusion flitted over her face, for when he announced his intention to speak with the hand, her mind still went to him first, not nasir manderly. "i am sure that will put many minds at ease."

he mentioned speaking to the king, and it would not be hard for him to notice how dacey tensed at the idea. was that a good idea? she opened her mouth, then closed it again. unless you think it best. was that a rhetorical question, or was he truly asking her opinion? she wanted to reassure him that owen would want to speak with him, and a part of her believed that to be true, but though he was her brother, she would not deny the truth - brandon knew him best. even now, he knew him better than dacey did.

"i don't know," she admitted, softly. there was worry, the sort of worry she always felt when she thought about owen these days. "i'd like to be able to tell you that i think he would prefer to hear it from you himself, but i truly don't know, brandon. do you want to speak with him?"

♞

the quickness to which the princess of the north, those the songs often dubbed as the rose of snow within the lands of karhold, took to attempting to defend aleksander karstark made brandon go momentarily quiet - though not for reasons one may have assumed. not because he felt as though she were interceding on something that was not hers to deal with, nor because he found the closeness she shared with aleksander to be questionable or inappropriate: but rather because it felt as though she had missed the part where it were clear the brothers of karhold were joking.

"i know, yer highness." his words were quiet but reassuring under the sound of the music as they continued to dance, his hand still resting respectfully on her hip as they spun around; he was careful not to barge her into any other couple on the dance floor. she were over explaining herself, in a way that would no doubt show far more of her state of mind than his own. "he'll not hear a word from me about it." a part of him wondered if this was the consequence of a clear change in sibling dynamics, what happens when the oldest brother is no longer that, but a king too.

for some reason the sight of the smallest of heads nods, the acknowledgement of his word, seemed to cause him a sense of relief - that there was at least one of the royals that understood the movement had not been encouraged by him, nor those who spoke it. none would find brandon karstark within their halls, igniting their whispers and their flames; not so soon after the weapons had been laid to rest. "i intend on speaking with the hand of the king himself on it. enough has befallen us all, i will not speak in riddles or wait in the shadows." he spun her around, watching as she turned.

whether brandon thought it was his truth, was something else entirely. he agreed with the sentiment. he agreed with what was being said. only, he did not agree with the timing; nor did he agree with the method in which such rumour was being spread. "unless you think it best for me to speak to the king himself." the king, instead of owen; there was so much change in wording, words that still felt foreign upon his lips. he watched as thought crossed over her features; no doubt, a sense of kindness remained upon her face.

dacey did not consider herself an intelligent woman. she was not particularly learned, nor did she possess a vast amount of political acumen, but what she did have was the ability to see beyond what was said, and find meaning in what was not. even if the tears had not quite yet dried upon her cheeks, she thought that she might have recognised it in the woman before her.

there was a specific look that painted itself on the faces of those who were trying to hold themselves together, clinging to frayed edges in the hope that they would not unravel. she had seen it in her own reflection - the look in the eyes that betrayed thoughts that were elsewhere, the way her voice took on a certain tone, like a song in a wine glass, despite her assurances that all was well. something stirred within her, a quiet urgency to offer whatever comfort she could, but it would be an intrusion to press the matter further. and so, instead of lingering in the unsaid, dacey focused her attention on what was. "i know what you mean," her voice was soft, audible over the din of king's landing to naelys only. "sometimes, when i'm in a crowded place, it's like the walls are pressing in." a flicker of a smile crossed her face then, a private moment of understanding. it would seem such a silly thing to someone who had not experienced it themselves - but dacey had. she knew all too well how suffocating it could be.

"oh," her gaze turned to the door of the step, as though she were looking upon a foreign beast, uncertain whether or not it would snap at her or leave her be. "no, mine are the old gods." it was not that she had quarrel with those who followed the faith of the seven, the divisions that had drawn lines in the northern court more a source of anxiety than something she wished to involve herself in, but it all seemed so unfamiliar to her. even standing here made her feel out of place. "i wanted to visit the godswood, but i'm afraid my attendant misunderstood, and i haven't got the heart to tell them otherwise." her smile turned rueful, hands clasping together in front of her skirts as one thumb scratched at the other. "i know it sounds ridiculous, but i thought i would just... wait for him to come back."

her cheeks burned, embarrassment for admitting her own ineptitude, and a touch of guilt. the woman had sought solace, and dacey was intruding on it. and yet, there was something that dacey could not put her finger on keeping her tied to the conversation, as though they knew one another, and were not strangers, standing on the steps of the sept.

"have you been away for long?" her query was gentle. "it must be difficult to expect to return to something familiar, and find that it isn't." dacey had only ever really known winterfell, excursions away from the place she had made her sanctuary few and far between, but with jon's death, even the ancient walls of her home felt different.

"i'm just visiting - my family and i - for the coronation. from the north. from winterfell."

¿

naelys' breath hitched as she exited the sept, her mind a swirling tempest of grief and confusion. the familiar sting of tears blurred her vision as she almost collided with the woman standing just outside. she hardly registered the words spoken to her, her mind too engrossed in the most hazy of memories and the overwhelming presence of king’s landing—a city that no longer felt like home. had it ever?

she still remembered the day those mighty doors swung open, and they had entered - the day rhaenyra had married.

hues of amethyst, still hazy with pools that appeared as still as a deceptively deep lake, finally focused on the concerned face before her. there was something oddly comforting about the woman’s sheepish yet empathetic expression. "oh, no, thank you. i'm... i'll be all right," naelys managed to say, her voice fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering. she wiped her eyes, though the action felt futile; for they would stain her cheeks red, and each stain felt like a hiss upon her skin.

the woman’s kindness tugged at something deep within naelys, a part of her that longed for connection amidst the overwhelming solitude of her grief. something akin to her words reminded her of the way her mother would look upon her, would try to check on her and encourage. it reminded her of what she no longer had, what her older sister would never be able to provide. “i appreciate your concern, truly,” she continued, a bit more steady now. “i was just...there were many people in that room."

naelys took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. her gaze lingered on the woman’s face, sensing an understanding there. she felt like a warm beacon, like some sort of candle; she could not help but naturally turn toward her, like a sunflower turns to the rays of the sun. “may i ask... what brings you to the sept? you don’t seem...,” she hesitated, trying to find the right words, “you don’t seem entirely at ease here. have you been standing all these hours?” she sniffed slightly, no doubt appearing pathetic.

she took a step back, giving herself and the woman a bit more space, and so she took to fiddling with the silver lace on her corset. “i’ve just returned to king’s landing and...this city is very different." naelys felt a strange mix of awkwardness and comfort in the presence of this stranger. there was an unspoken bond, a shared sense of displacement that made her feel a little less alone. “and you? are you new to the city as well?” she asked, genuinely curious about the woman who had unknowingly offered her a brief reprieve from her inner turmoil.

perhaps, in this moment of shared vulnerability, they could both find some solace. even if only for a fleeting moment.

dacey's gaze seemed to catch on the tapestry. it were undoubtedly a work of art - careful stitching and vibrant colours speaking of a master of the craft, one she could recognise due to her own skill with a loom. and yet, the subject of the piece, the story it was trying to tell, made her stomach twist. it were bold, speaking of victory and glory, and yet, she found its depiction of battle and war distasteful, bordering on grotesque. the crimson threads could not fully capture the horror of spilled blood.

lips pressed into a thin line as she took in the details, the embroidered waves and flames. she were a stark, she knew the necessity of battle, and yet, she was also a girl who longed for a world without it, one where loss did not seem an inevitability. the tale being told did not fill her with any sort of admiration to the glory of the west - it just left her feeling colder than winterfell ever could.

she tore her gaze away. another stood before the second tapestry, and the feeling it evoked was softer, gentler. better. there was a quiet peace to it, hues of blue and gold that contrasted with the other one, and yet she preferred it. she caught the gaze of it's other admirer, recognising her as malee westerling, and offered a faint smile.

"lady westerling," dacey greeted, tentatively stepping forward and coming to stand beside malee. "they are... certainly a work of art." it was not a lie, though she could not bring herself to offer more glowing praise for the first tapestry. "though i prefer the ones that speak of quieter days." it was a curious decision to hand two such differing pieces beside one another. perhaps the blue sky and peaceful fields was supposed to serve as a reminder of what they were battling for.

"this one," she gestured to the harvest scene before them. "it feels truer to me. it's about life, i suppose. the beauty in what we see around us every day. the heart is in the details, rather than the story."

setting: flashback to the westerlands event, malee finds a moment of peace in a room of tapestries, and is joined by a northern companion ; starter for @daceystvrk

the lady of the crag stood before a tapestry, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of the fabric. The scene depicted a fierce battle at sea—ships ablaze, warriors clashing beneath storm-darkened skies. the intricate details of the waves, the glint of swords, and the defiant stance of her ancestors seemed almost alive. she traced the embroidered figure of a ser westerling, his sword raised high against a towering greyjoy raider. her lips tightened. they always show the glory, never the cost.

the faint murmur of celebration drifted up from the great hall below: laughter, the clink of goblets, the steady rhythm of a drum. The birth of a prince. a new chapter in the story of the realm. yet, malee found herself here, away from the noise, seeking solace in the quiet narratives of thread and cloth.

she shifted her gaze to the next tapestry, this one softer in tone—a peaceful scene of harvest in the westerlands. golden fields, proud castles, and a sky so blue it seemed to stretch beyond the bounds of the fabric. malee exhaled slowly. how many years of blood and toil had it taken to weave such peace?

her thoughts were interrupted by a faint creak of the floorboards behind her. She turned to see the visage of dacey stark some paces away. she had briefly met the princess of the north on a few occassions, and was admittedly surprised to see her here, now. "your grace." she offered a small bow of her head, looking to the tapestry behind her, then back to the other. "they're lovely, aren't they?" she asked, a delicate finger pointing to the corner of the one she stood before. "i find the technique used for this one particularly interesting."

closed starter for @lucius-rivers setting: on her way back to the north from king's landing, dacey stops in the riverlands and meets with her cousin.

dacey travelled slowly, if she travelled at all. she had left the north to make it to king's landing, her first time away from the lands of her own family, and expected to arrive home after the rest. it wasn't ideal, but having never been so far from home before, she didn't want to wear herself out, but did want to ensure she was making the most of her trip.

lucius rivers was not a man she knew well, but he was blood. that was what mattered to dacey. her mother's kin was a subject of curiosity for her, but she had always cared for them from afar. it made her a little nervous to be here.

swallowing her trepidation, dacey tried to still her hands, which were twisting together in her lap, and offered a tentative, but sincere smile.

"i'm sorry i didn't get to spend time with you in king's landing," she began. "i think this is better, though. i didn't care much for the city, but the riverlands is beautiful. you are lucky to call it your home."

for: @owenstark timestamp: early morning location marker: winterfell

it had been so long since dacey stark had a good night's sleep that the circles around her eyes were almost a permanent fixture. no, she spent her evenings in the glow of candlelight, weaving until her hands cramped, her vision blurred, and exhaustion finally overtook her body, usually just as the sun began to peek through winterfell's towers. then, there was only time to sleep for a few precious hours before she was on her feet again, facing another day that she didn't know if she had the energy to face.

there were often nights where dacey could not shut out the cacophony of disjointed thoughts that flitted through her mind, lingering only long enough to leave a lasting impression of worry or dread before slipping away before she had the chance to wrangle it into submission. there had been more nights like that recently, and tonight was one of them. her candles had burned down to stubs by the time the sun had risen. there was little point trying to fall asleep now. winterfell was beginning to awaken. from her window, she could see figures below, assuming their morning duties. instead, she readied herself for the day, and routed herself through the castle.

she had come to see her brother.

she knocked lightly on his door, but pushed it open before awaiting an answer. if he was here, he would be alone. if he was not here, then there was little point in lingering outside of an empty room. her eyes fell upon him, and a small smile curled around her lips. It was a smile of greeting, of warmth, even if there was little joy in it.

"I hope i'm not intruding," she began, hovering in the doorway, awaiting instruction to venture further in, or to turn to leave. "i'm sure you have a busy day ahead of you." her hands were clasped in front of her, but though she stood still, they did not rest, fingers twisting around one another, pulling mindlessly at the already raw skin around her nails. "If there is anything I can do - if you have need of me - you need only ask."

closed starter for @northernglorie

the hour was late, and dacey's quiet footsteps echoed against the stone walls, reverberating through the silence. there was once a time when she could count on being the only one awake when night fell over the keep, but now, it was more and more common to find that she was not alone in it.

more often then not, one who could be counted on to remain awake was glorie. and on nights where solitude was too much for her, dacey found herself here, approaching glorie's door with a warm drink and the hope that the night would end a little less lonely.

"i brought you something to drink," she placed the cup carefully on a clear spot on the table, careful not to interfere with glorie's work. there was a quiet admiration for her good-sister, and she liked to think that glorie knew it was there, that it showed in these small gestures. "and some candles. i wasn't sure if you had enough."

"and my company, if you'll have it."

"i had to try," she protested, though in jest. she shook her head. "i would not have taken your coin from you, though, mask or no." there was not an inch of dacey that was competitive in that manner, and aleks knew her well enough to know as much about her. A glance at his face told her that her assessment was correct, and her choice of game was up his alley. "Of course you're strong," a half-grin appeared on her face, and she folded her arms across her chest as she stood to watch. "I might have a turn next, so try your best. Wouldn't want me showing you up." The idea was laughable. If there was one thing Dacey was not capable of, it was feats of physical strength.

His eyes narrowed behind the mask, and a chortle passed over his lips. "I know what you're doin' there, princess." Aleksander patted her hand as Dacey's arm looped through his. "I doubt you are in need of my coin, though." They strolled through the festival games, looking at them with unbridled curiosity. His lips parted, formed a silent o as she pointed to a game that tested strength. A lopsided grin built on his lips. "I'm flattered you think of me as strong, Dacey. Perhaps it's time to prove you right." He disentangled their arms and walked towards the built game, positioning himself so he could wrap his fingers around the crank.

DACEY STARK - the inspirations

cosette (les misérables)

there was dew in her eyes. cosette was a condensation of auroral light in womanly form.

violet parr (the incredibles)

i feel different. it's different, okay?

beth march (little women)

there are many beth’s in the world, shy and quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, and the sweet, sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind

isobel thorm (baldur's gate iii)

i hope we won't intrude on your hospitality too long. i'm grateful for a safe place to... well, just to be.

sandy (grease)

to my heart i must be true

rapunzel (the brother's grimm)

When she was twelve years old the witch shut her up in a tower in the midst of a wood, and it had neither steps nor door, only a small window above.

primrose everdeen (the hunger games)

there's something else there as well, something entirely her own. an ability to look into the confusing mess of life and see things for what they are.

tara maclay (buffy the vampire slayer)

things fall apart, they fall apart so hard.

"i am glad to hear that fortune has smiled on you." she truly was. she could understand how it would be easy to be bitter that others may prosper when it felt like her own life was falling apart at the seams, but that was not, would never be, dacey's way. the way she saw it, seffora was overdue for the blessings that she had received since they had last been face to face, and in that, there was hope that one day, the old gods would look upon house stark and grant them a reprieve, too. until that day, though, she would content herself with knowing that at least one person she cared for was well.

dacey nodded her head. "i would like that. it's been a long journey. i think some tea with a friend would be just the right way to settle in." just for a moment, it would do her some good to pretend as though nothing was wrong, and they were simply two women enjoying one another's company. the heavy gloom of winterfell had encompassed so much of her day to day. perhaps, despite her hesitancy to come, the westerlands could be a much-needed light.

"where are you staying?" she had yet to find her way around the westerlands, a place so unfamiliar to her that she had barely been able to picture it in her mind before they had arrived here. "i haven't got my bearings here yet, so you'll have to show me the way."

The Lady of Longtable offered a respectful bow of her head before the Princess of the North once she stood before her. Seffora did consider Dacey a friend, and despite skipping over some of the appropriate formalities, she did wish to convey her respect for the Stark princess. It was so reassuring to have the other woman reach towards her and offer a hug. The Merryweather held Dacey tightly, warmly, before they let go.

Dacey was not the first one to remark on her appearance as of late, whether to note her demeanor, whatever confidence or brightness she might be showing more outwardly than before. “Well, I've been blessed with great fortune,” was all she could say, for the gods had truly smiled upon her house and people after all the hardships they endured collectively as the civil war in the Reach raged on. Seffora knew her friend could be thinking of what she got to witness firsthand in Winterfell, though. House Merryweather had lost much back then. Seffora had lost the sister who had been her lifelong companion in the most harrowing way. The scar of such a loss remained, but as she stood here today, it didn't feel like a constantly bleeding wound.

“We must,” Seffora grinned, eager to hear whatever Dacey wished to tell her. She was also most willing to lend a shoulder to cry on too, if necessary, for news of the misfortunes of the Starks had reached the court of King Cedric. The Lady of Longtable would never forget the way the Stark princess had been there for her when she needed it. It was something she would never be able to fully repay. She wished to give it a try, however, and be there for Dacey. “Could you spare a moment now? Perhaps we can ask to have some tea or refreshments brought to the guest quarters my house has been granted”.

anybody else might have laughed at owen's story, but dacey, though amused, looked vaguely horrified. "how many pizzas are you eating in a week, owen?" she asked, making a mental note to set up a meal delivery plan for him the second she got back to norway. "you could always donate some to a shelter or something. at the very least, it'll clear out your freezer." and also save his cholesterol levels.

sibling catch ups like this were far too few and far between. they'd all been so busy with their own lives, but it was nice to take a moment that was just for each other, no matter how overdue it was. she did her best, but it never quite felt like she was doing enough to show her support.

"life's good," she confirmed. "ulises has moved in." she'd never been sure she could see herself living with someone. for dacey, it was a big step. "everything else is basically the same. work keeps me busy. you should come by the hospital when you have time. there's a little boy on the ward who loves rugby, and he didn't believe you're really my brother," she smiled at the thought, shaking her head a little bit. "what about you? what's new in your life?"

who: @daceystvrk where: school gym notable deets: staaaaaark

"So, they said that if I can get them to a million likes I get life long freeze pizza. And when I realized it as like 400 calories for the whole pizza I was like well, I'll just eat as many pizzas as I can in my underwear and that's how I got free pizza for life but I'm a little sick of pizza."

Owen pulled his hair back away from his face as he caught up with his sister. He liked to visit her whenever he could and she came to games when she could, it was a good balance for them. The Starks were many but they were all very busy and even when Owen wasn't busy, he was always traveling because he could. He worked hard for his own money, ignoring the healthy trustfund from his family, and he wanted to spend his money in the best ways. What was the use in having so much if you wanted to die with the same amount?

"Tell me about things, how 's life be, doctor lady?"