✧ The Pack Survives ╱ House Stark - Blog Posts

HOUSE STARK OF WINTERFELL

@owenstark, @daceystvrk, @cassvstark, @devotionturns

the moment cassana placed her head upon dacey's shoulder, her reaction was instinctual, one hand coming up to gently smooth across cassana's cheek, as though to check that she was all right without using words to do so, before letting her hand drop to her side again. it was unreserved in it's warmth in a way that was rare for daey for all but the youngest of her siblings.

there was no such warmth for cyrene. dacey did not miss the way cyrene's smile froze at the sight of her, and she responded by doing what she always did - by drawing back, away from what it was that was making her feel as though she did not belong here, in this place, where countless generations of starks had walked before. their reunion had been a tense one, and it seemed to have lingered.

and yet, she tried not to make it evident upon her face, tried not to spoil the peace the rest of them seemed to feel upon this reunion. cassana still stood by her side, and she allowed herself to draw strength from her presence, as she often did without the other knowing it. it was enough to paint a smile on her face, swallow down that knot of anxiety, and respond to what adam was saying, reminding herself that moment like these, when they got to be together like this, were a rare gift for them all.

"it does," she replied softly to adam, surprising even herself with the fact she were the first to speak. "i don't think i can recall the last time so many of us were here at once. it is usually quieter in the godswood, now life has taken us in our own directions." but for a moment, she could hear the shades of their childhood around them, laughter that had begun to echo long ago, and she felt a strange longing in her chest for it now. "but i have missed it. and i am glad the old gods saw fit to bring us together here again." even with those missing. even with those lost.

@owenstark

The King wanted to hunt and some times he wanted to go alone. On this day he traveled with his wolf. The great beast walking along side him as they made their way back. His horse carried a great stag on it's back and rabbits on the saddle. It would be a good meal, when the King wanted to eat well he would go out and get his own meat and have it roasted in butters and with vegetables and he would eat until he could not. Food and beer. It kept his mind at ease.

The sound of voices caught this attention. He dragged his fingers over his beard and took wrapped an arrow around his finger and lined it up as he walked closer. Calm washed over him as the voices were suddenly familiar and strange to him. Cyrene sounded different to his ears but he knew he all same. Adam was Adam, if his voice changed Owen would think another wore his face. And of course, Dacey, she carried a weight he always put on her shoulders. "Smoke get off her." Owen called out, putting the arrow away as Smoke ran up to Cyrene and put muddy paws on her front.

"And what do we have here?" A smiled graced his features briefly. "Starks in the Godswood. Have I stumbled upon the secret club house or has the old Gods brought us here?" Owen remember his secret cave with Alys and Jon, and it pained him to think of them so he pushed it away. "It's been too long since we've been a pack. We just need Cass." Those who were home at least. Life pulled them apart and together. Even as he tried, Owen did not feel like a brother. He felt like a King and he did not know how to turn it off.

@cassvstark

dacey had been spending more time in the godswood of late, seeking to clear her mind, looking for guidance and insight that did not come. it was amongst the trees where she felt most comfortable these days, but there was only so much that could do for her. and yet, still she came, searching for answers for questions she had not quite figured out how to ask.

oftentimes, when she visited, she would find herself here alone. today, that was not so. the figures of her elder brother and sister loomed before her, sharing a moment of tenderness. she was glad of that - her own reunion with cyrene had been a frosty one, and that was enough to both weigh on her conscience and have her hesitating, dithering between the trees as she pondered whether to interrupt, if her presence would be welcomed in the moment they shared. she was about to turn and return to the keep, leaving them to it, when the sound of her footsteps had adam turning, and she could no longer pretend she had never been there at all.

instead of turning, dacey drew a little closer, leather-gloved hands clasping together before her, coming to a stop a few meters away from them. near, but still apart, still retaining some distance. "sorry," her voice was sheepish when she spoke, the smile on her face a tentative one. "i didn't mean to intrude on you." she'd caught none of their conversation, but before she could speak, another of their kin made their presence known, and her tension relaxed a little. "we're all of a similar mind today, i think."

@owenstark

It was true, they had never been quite close. As children, Cyrene had chased the thrill while Adam had remained in his lonesome. She had run away from boredom, while Adam had welcomed the security of it.

The war had come, the fire had come, and Cyrene had grown into a woman. A woman who stood alone, walls of ice grown between those she had held close and those she had not. The dragons had danced and Adam had grown into a man. A good man. A protector.

With every letter she penned, with every one she received, every visit he payed her at the Twins, she'd felt a gnawing sort of guilt take hold in her chest. She had never been fair to him. It was just like time, allowing her to realize how wrong she had been about her very own brother.

Her fingers tightened around his. Warmth meeting warmth among familiar cold. "I told no one," she admitted, a glimmer of mischief dancing within her eyes. "Well, other than all those who traveled with me." Adam's eyes were searching hers, roving over her every expression, her demeanor. "And my husband." She made a point out of telling him. This had been agreed upon. Even if in her very depth, she despised having to gain permission for anything from anyone.

"In a way, I suppose, I am glad you did not answer my letter," she spoke, a slow smile spreading on her lips. "It would not have reached me in time. And gods know what you might have written in those letters. I can imagine Lord Frey being quite affronted."