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Jonah Allyrion

"Why take the easy route, Where's the fun in that?"

0 · 835 views · located in The Black Keep

a character in “Blackvale”, as played by TheCrimsonLady

Description

△ Let me tell you about wolves, child.... ▼
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W i n t e rXXXXXXW o l f
S h a d o w 's XX.XXXXXh e i r

████████████████████████████████████████ When the snow falls and the white wind blows.... △


Imagen a m e.
Magnus Jonah Allyrion

n i c k n a m e.
Jonah
Jon
Winter Wolf
The Shadow's Heir
Pup

a g e.
25

g e n d e r.
Male


XXXXXXXXXX▼The lone wolf dies but the pack survives. ████████████████████████████████████████


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e y e s.
Black

h a i r.
Black

b o d y.
Athletic, Slender

h e i g h t
6'2

s c a r s.
Nothing too serious,
a few nicks and scratches
All from childhood


Jonah is a dashing young man, with warm olive skin, a gentle blend of his mother and father. Dark hair that he keeps long, reaching to just the nape of his neck. He often can be seen sporting a wolfish grin on his full lips. He dresses more like a rouge then lord's son, in simple jerkins, and breeches. He keeps a sword at his side almost at all times, even though he's never seen true battle, he seems always prepared. Truthfully, it was a gift from his father on his 10th name day and uses it more for emotional security than anything else. Jonah has a wolf as a pet, named Snow, that he found when he was young. He is always at his side, it is rare that you see one without the other.
.



XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████████████████In Winter, we must protect one another.... △


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l i k e s.
Flirting
Women
Ranging
Sword Fighting
Cooking
Music
Sparing
Laughter
His Wolf, Snow


s t r e n g t h s.
Loyalty
Honor
Charm
Ranging
Hunting


d r e a m s.
Psuedo-Immortality
To step out of his father's shadow
d i s l i k e s.
Bullies
Sadness
His sister's illness
Arranged marriage.


w e a k n e s s e s.
Pride
His sister/Family
Recklessness.


f e a r s.
Losing his family
Losing his sister
Wasting his potential


████████████████████████████████████████ ▼ Keep each other warm.....
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXJonah was born to the Lord and Lady of House Allyrion,
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Lord Ramsey Allyrion and Lady Charotte Ettore.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXHe grew up listening to the stories of his father, the Winter's Shadow
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXand all of the things he accomplished during the war.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXhow he went from a simple farm hand to a lord,
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXafter befriending and saving the life of the now King.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXJon longed to have a story of his own.Hoping,
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXone day he too would go down in history for some noble deed.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXHe doesn't want war, but he wants something to happen,
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXsomething incredible so that he could remove himself
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXfrom this father's shadow. It is a large one,
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXthe man is named after the shadow he casted.

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXWhile this is still his main goal in life,
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXsomething else had kept him from pursuing a career in the royal guard...
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXHis baby sister, Clara.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXBorn too soon, and at the start of the Long Night,
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXa night with which Winter comes to the North, keeping the sun at bay
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXShe was ill, most of her life, left bed-ridden and weak.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXInstilled in him, at a young age, he made it his honor and duty to protect her,
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXwith his very life if he must.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXWhile he is a Lord's son and would be Lord of the North someday,
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXhis main priority is his sister, not his father's seat.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


████████████████████████████████████████ △Share Our Strength...


Imagef a m i l y
Mother: Lady Charlotte Ettore-Allyrion -Rose of Winter
Father: Lord Ramsey Allyrion-Shadow of Winter
Sister: Lady Clara Allyrion- Winter's Miracle.


h o u s e s i g i l.
The Crescent Moon


h o u s e w o r d s .
The Day Will Rise







XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████████████████ So If you must hate.... ▼


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Jonah has always fancied himself the adventurer, having read stories, listened to tales of brave knights, daring rogues and heroic kings, as a child, he took those traits onto himself. He craves adventure and makes his choice accordingly. Outgoing, he loves people, He loves to be the center of attention but not in a selfish way, but in a way that gets everyone involved. He loves to engross them, trying to pull them into his adventure. For example, he convinced a few of his friends to join him on a quest into the forest to find the fair folk. They all knew, the fair folk wasn't real but they went with him anyway, unable to resist his contagious enthusiasm. He is an empathic person and has an almost uncanny ability to read people, see what they want, or need before they do, and he is always eager to cater to those needs. This also makes him a good shoulder to cry on, and a good ear, should someone need it, something his sister knows too well.

Ever the charmer, he makes it a point to make those around him smile, he could be walking down the street, see a woman, young or old, and tell her how beautiful she is, just to see her smile. He could see a child, and offer himself as a playmate. His mother taught him early that even a Lord should be loved by his bannerman, not just respected, and he took that to heart
Fiercely loyal, he would go to war for anyone he calls a friend, and especially for anyone he considers family. Family is a big part of his upbringing. He is close to each of his family members, even his somewhat stoic father. Jonah isn't quick to anger, but nothing sets him off faster than a threat to his family, and Gods be good if anyone were to hurt his sister.

Jonah is often too bold for his own good, he tends to rush into things, even if he doesn't really know what he is dealing with. He just jumps in, only thinking of the consequences if someone else is involved. His own safety comes second if at all. He is not very forward thinking in that regard and this gets him in a lot of trouble, the aforementioned quest, a friend of his got his wooden sword, stuck in a very large tree, Jonah climbed to get it down, and did so successfully, however, in the process of getting himself down, he jumped, not realizing how high the tree was, a broken a leg. This is something he does all too often and more often than not, it has to do with impressing a woman. He is a shameless flirt, and he's been in plenty a fight when he openly flirted with a woman who may or may not have been taken.
Jonah can be a little unfocused sometimes, knowing he has other responsibilities to take care of, he tends to put the enjoyment of others above those. He bores easily, and always finds something to otherwise occupy his time. He learns and learns well, but getting him to sit still long enough to learn is the hard part.
He also tends to romanticize things in his head and can be hurt emotionally because of this. Again, he isn't quick to anger, but he is to melancholy. If something he believed, or thought turns out to be wrong, or impossible, he tends to shut down, by walking away to brood.



XXXXX△Hate those who would truly do us harm.████████████████████████████████████████


Imaged i a l o g u e . c o d e: #E80000
f a c e . c l a i m Luke Pasqulino
t i m e . z o n e: PST
c r e a t e d . b y: TheCrimsonLady
s k e l e t o n . b y: The Writer's Voice
Toast to Tomorrow-Blackmore Night Last Steampunk Waltz-Ghostfire

So begins...

Jonah Allyrion's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne Character Portrait: Vivienne Chaimbers Character Portrait: Rhaegar Castillon
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JONAH ALLYRION
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Eldest Child | The Winter's Wolf
#E80000 | Outfit
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CLARA ALLYRION
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Only Daughter | The Winter's Child
#388E8E | Outfit


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Days earlier...
Clara sat watching the snow. She sat on a bench, and leaned on a hand, staring out of the single window in her chambers, the glass was closed and the small hearth burned but she could still feel the cold. The night was particularly cold and dark. She sighed. Something was coming. Something as cold and as dark as this night.
Her Dreams told her as much...
A hefty knock came at the oaken door of her chambers. She turned just as her father, Lord Ramsey Allyrion, Lord of the North, a massive man, skin as dark as the night, yet with strangely light eyes, eyes she inherited. "What are you doing up here all along, Little One?" He asked, his voice strong and deep. She looked down at her feet. "Thinking." She said and he twitched a brow. Not angrily, curiously. "Clara." He said and took a seat on her bed, patting a place for her beside him. She sighed. It wasn't a lie, but she wasn't being forthcoming either. She walked over to him and sat beside him. "I have a bad feeling." She admitted and he said nothing, patiently waiting for her to continue. "I don't know what it is, I just..." She looked up and toward the window, watching the flakes fall and collect on the seal. She sighed. "It's...It's like just before a storm, a bad one, I can feel, the...static...the calm." she said and looked back at her father who was watching her. "What are our words." He asked, and she looked down at her hands, which had been twisting her skirts. "Day will rise." She said. "What does it mean?" He asked, and she looked at him. She knew the words, heard them all her life but she never considered what they meant. She thought she knew but the question made her question herself. She looked down, ashamed. "I'm...I'm not sure." She said and he placed a hand on her head. "A long time ago when our family first landed here from the south-lands." Her father began, stroking her dark hair. "They were used to the warmth of the sun, the days were longer in the south-lands and here in the north, the days were short, the night were long, and some days, the sun wouldn't come for months at a time," he said and she looked at him. She knew this story. Her father's people were from where the sun was hot, and it never snowed. She couldn't imagine a place where it didn't snow, even in the winter.
"They were terrified, the seeds they brought, didn't grow, winds howled, storms raged, and many, many did not survive but then...one day, after months of cold, and the death, the snow melt, plants grew, and the sun rose...." He said and she nodded. She knew this. "That's why those are our words...'Day will rise.'" She said and he smiled. "Yes, but it means more than that," he said. "It means, No matter how dark it seems. The Day will rise, they will get better." He said and she looked at him, understanding playing her face. "So, my little Clara, you might feel a storm, and perhaps it's on the rise, but remember our words...." He told her and pulled her into a warm embrace. "Day will rise." She sank into his hug, but she couldn't shake the feeling like something...something horrible was coming. Day would rise, but it had to be dark first.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Jon twirled his practice sword, one, twice before bringing the wooden blade across the belly of an equally wooden dummy, following through with a sidelong spin as if the dummy had its own sword and would have taken the opportunity to swing in return. Jon rose the blade up and would have taken the head of his foe if he hadn't noticed brilliant red hair out of the corner of his eye. Stark against the white, gray and blues around him. His shoulders slacked, though his arms were still holding the sword high. "Mother..." he murmured but a smile touched his lips, lowering his weapon. He turned to her with an arch brow, still warning his grin. "That's mighty distracting." He told his mother, Lady Charlotte, as she approached him, her hands tucked into the fur-lined sleeves of her overdress. She merely smiled, one that mirrored his. "I enjoy watching you practice." She said, removing her hand from the warmth of her sleeve to reach up, cupping the back of his head to press a kiss to his forehead. He lowered, allowing her the kiss, though he felt a little odd, he was sweating, despite the cold, from the practice and surely the smell was offensive. He stood straight, leaning on his practice sword. "Father still speaking with Clara, I gather." He said and his mother laughed. "Can't I watch my son practice?" She asked feigning innocence. Jon shook his head. "Of course," He said. "Clearly you've nothing better to do." He said and expecting the swat that came to his arm. He wore his grin and so did she, for a moment before his mother's faded. She looked down at her feet and sighed. Her breath appearing in wisps from the exhale.
"Clara is in one of her moods again." She confessed, her native accent touching her words stronger now, she always had one but it was only this strong when she was upset. Jon could only sigh. He knew this of course. She had another episode last night where she ended up wandering around the Keep in her sleep. He was awoken by her running into his door. Thankfully the girl was tougher than she looked. He thought she might be sporting a bruise.

"She was sleep walking again, so..." Jon shrugged before tossing his wooden blade against the dummy and offering an arm to his mother. Her face was paler than usual, Jon noted, clearly, she must have been keeping herself busy.

"I wish I knew what to do." She told him and he sighed. Clara loved their mother and vice versa but she'd always been closer to Father. Mother couldn't reach her, she was often telling Clara all the things she did wrong, much like Father did to him. But whereas, Jon knew he meant well. Clara, though she didn't bruise easy, she had a soft heart, and for the first few years of her life, she was ill, to the point where they did not think she would survive. Thankfully she did, but she was bedridden for most of her life when she finally got better, Mother had to teach her all she needed to know about being a proper lady all at once, it seemed. Rather than, slowly like she would have if Clara was healthy. This put a strain on both of them. Clara had to grow up, quickly, and Mother couldn't treat her like the child she was inside. Jon got to be a child and learned to be a man. Clara woke up one day and she had to be a woman. Jon allowed her to be a child with him, Father did too, though he treated them both like children most of the time, but Mother could not, even when she wanted to. They turned into the keep and the large hearth that heated the main hall greeted them with warmth. Jon took a breath. "Talk to her." He said and his mother looked at him with a frown as if to say. 'I do.'

"I mean...have you tried to get to know her?" He asked and she looked offended "I know my daughter, Jon." she said and Jon sighed, patting the hand that was hooked around his arm. "No, I mean, truly get to know her, like, have you listened one of her songs?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, but she needs not to focus on that now." She said and he stopped their walk and turned to his mother. She was a tall woman but he still had her by a foot or two. "Perhaps," He stopped to lick his lips, knowing he was getting dangerously close to upsetting her. He did not want that. His mother was kind but wasn't someone one wanted angry. "Perhaps that's the problem." He said. "You haven't bothered to listen to her, you tell her what she needs to do, how she needs to do it, even why she needs to do it but...you haven't let her speak to you..."
His mother was quiet, which wasn't a good sign. "You haven't let her do those things her own way," he said and she frowned, looking off which -though she frowned- was a good sign. She was musing. He wondered if she was recalling the one time where Clara was sewing and she was signing, Jon had happened by and hear Mother tell her to stop and that she needed to focus, Jon knew that that was Clara's way of focusing. The moment she stopped singing the stitching wasn't as good as Mother wanted. Jon left after he hear mother fuss, but Clara told him the rest.

Mother looked up at him and sighed, a few stitching her brow. Jon said nothing else, watching her. She looked much like Clara at that moment, or rather, Clara looked much like her when she frowned. "Maybe you're right." She said finally and Jon realized then he hadn't been breathing. "Am I?" He asked with his wolfish grin, hoping to lighten the mood. Mother's face softened but otherwise made no acknowledge to his teasing. She merely huffed out of her nose, much like Clara does when she's relenting. "She's a woman now... And soon--very soon, she will need to marry, and I just want the best for her." She said but Jon stopped listening after 'she will need to marry'.
He looked at his mother, mouth agape. "Wait, what?"
His mother looked at him and then she heard herself. She looked away. "Mother, what are you talking about?" He asked, a little more urgently than he intended. The thought of Clara marrying...it turned his stomach. She was a beautiful girl but she knew nothing of the world and had a child's heart. She couldn't be married, not yet.

"Mother?" He urged and she turned to look at him, her green eyes wide, twisting her skirts. Jon felt a panic. "We were going to tell you both...together...Your Father and I," She said and Jon frowned. "Tell us what?"

"The King...He has requested our presence at the Black Keep; The other families will attend as well," She said and Jon felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. His brain already putting two and two together. The King and his father had always been close, and knowing Clara was of age now, Jon swallowed, bile churning his stomach. She could have more of a chance than most if they played this right.

"The King wants to parade my little sister around other women so that the Prince might choose one for a wife?" He couldn't hide his disgust. "She's a child." He spat and his mother flinched. He didn't mean to shout but it was too late for that now. "Magnus..." His mother started, reaching for him but he recoiled sharply. She called him his first name, not Jonah, his middle name but the namesake he was given after the King. This was bad. "Magnus...She's not." She said and he shook his head.
"But she is, she just doesn't look it." He said and stormed off. How could they do this to her? Clara wasn't ready for court life, and hell, neither was he. This was wrong.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The next day, Clara and Jonah were called to the Great Hall. It was light with the morning sun casting a soft blue hue onto the stone walls. The Long Night had been over for a few years now and Day had risen, as their father always promised. The hall was normal alight with candles, the great hearth where massive logs would crackle and pop from the flames upon them. It would give the hall a warm orange glow; making it seem more welcoming and safe. Now, it seemed harsh and imposing for the lack of color. They only color in the room was their mother's brilliant red hair, that in this light, looked darker and almost hard to see. That was something neither of the children appreciated. Their parents sat on the dais in front of the large hearth which held no wood or flames this morning, there was no need; the sun was up and warming the keep with its rays. Though, a southern people wouldn't consider the temperature warm, especially for the snow that was still falling outside. They were behind a long oaken table. The wood was sanded smooth, cravings depicted their house sigil, the Crescent Moon. The same crescent moon was stitched finely into the large silver and black banners that hung on either side of the hearth.

The morning sun peeking through the high windows cast what wasn't lit by the beams into dark shadows. Appropriate actually, this was the Shadow House after all.

Clara and Jonah stood together in front of them, Jonah making it a point to hold Clara's hand, which, of course, only made Clara more nervous. She swallowed and Jonah squeezed her hand. "Jonah, Clara." Their father said with a nod, his unusually light eye finding both of them seemingly at the same time. They bowed and curtseyed respectively. "Good Morning, Father, Good Morning Mother." Clara said softly. Father, Mother" Jonah said with an attitude in his tone that it seemed, at least to Clara that they all noticed but otherwise ignored. Their mother merely smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"Clara, How are you feeling?"Lord Ramsey asked, looking at her. She smiled in a similar way that her mother had. "Well, Father." She said and he nodded. "anymore coughing fits, and sleeping episodes?" He asked and she shook her head. "No, Father," she said with a smile. She had the night before last but none last night. That was something.
She watched her father's face, their father rarely allowed his thoughts to be betrayed by his face but Clara had learned to read the small things. It wasn't all she really had to do while laying in bed, only seeing people when they chose to visit. She had time to study their faces, the small things they did when they spoke to her, whether or not they were lying to her. So she knew by the small nod and the upward twitch of her father's eyebrow that he was glad to hear this and that would come into play later.
"Good." Was all he said on the subject before his eyes turned to the both of them.

"We received a raven from Blackvale." He began and Jonah's hand twitched, closing her fingers. Clara didn't hide her frown but she didn't turn it to her brother, but she knew, he knew what was coming next.

"The King has requested our presence for the summer, we will be staying in Blackvale for the entirety of it." He went on and Clara would have smiled had it not been for Jonah's tension. She could feel the heat radiating from him. "A whole Summer in Blackvale?" She asked and her father nodded. Clara looked at her brother finally, offering a smile. "Isn't that exciting, Pup?" She urged and he seemed to not hear her at first, before turning to her. He gave a smirk that was more of a twitch but that was all. He said nothing. That was very uncharacteristic of him. He always had a lot of say, good or bad. He was waiting for something. She turned to her father then. "Is that all, Father?" She urged and he shot a look to Jonah that made her nervous and the nervousness continued when he turned back at her. "We will not be the other family to attend, The Thornes, The Chaimbers, The Cavaliers, The Thatchers, The Davernys and the Greysons, all will be there as well." He said and Clara gapped. "My" She breathed and she looked at her brother who while still tense, seemed to finally hear news he hadn't heard before.

"What for, Father?"

"Yes, Father, tell us, What for." Jonah finally spoke and it caused Clara to whip her head his direction. Jonah never used that tone with anyone, especially not Father. "Magnus." Their mother hissed while their father cocked his head threateningly all while Clara looked at her family as if they'd all changed colors. "What is going on?" She blurted.

"They are sending you there to be paraded in front of the Prince, in hopes that you will be chosen by him, marry him and produce him an heir, that is what this invitation is all about," Jonah said, glaring daggers their father and Clara blinked. "Wh-what?"
"Mangus Jonah Allyrion, that is quite enough," Their mother barked from across the room, her voice echoing in the otherwise empty hall. Jonah looked as if he were about to speak but snapped his mouth shut at her tone. Clara was still reeling from the news.
"Is this true, Father?" she asked and as per usual, he merely nodded.
"Not in so many words." Their mother corrected. "But yes, that is why we were invited, for you to be a potential wife for the Prince."
Clara sighed heavily, she knew this day was coming, her mother had been preparing her for such a thing but now that it was here, her stomach turned to knots.

"So nevermind what Clara wants?" Jonah spoke up again, his tone cooler this time. "That is not something a Lady need worry about." their mother said though they all could hear the disgust in her tone. Jonah jerked his head back as if she'd stuck him. "Frozen Hell, you really believe that don't you?" He said shocked. "Jonah." Their father said warningly. Father rarely disciplined them, unless they upset or somehow disrespected their mother. Jonah was getting dangerously close to the latter.

"Father, you can't allow this to happen? Clara's a child, and we don't even know what he'll be like.." Jonah said gesturing to Clara making her feel small. Jonah was always wildly protective of her. He is a wolf and she is his pack, but he often made the mistake of underestimating her.
"You were kind to mother, you love Mother but you two are the exception, not the rule." Jonah went on and Clara closed her eyes. "I am not a child," she said but he voice was too small and Jonah went on. "What if he hurts her? What then? Dear Ancestors, if he chooses her and then hurts her, there will be nothing we can do to stop him, to protect her. Mother, you made me promise to look out for her, Father you told me to be a man of my words, so I cannot sit by and watch as-"
"I'm not a child, Jonah!" Clara shouted, stopping Jonah dead. He turned to her wild-eyed.
"Do you think me so weak, Brother? "
Jonah shook his head, rolling his eyes. "That's not what I meant." He sighed, and out of the corner of her eye, Clara saw her father waved down her mother as if to tell her to let them handle this.
"What do you mean then, Jonah? You called me a child."
"You're young."
"There is a difference, Jonah.."
"Perhaps, but you're still green, Clara, you aren't ready for court life,"
Clara narrowed her eyes, a hand on her hip. "And how do you suppose that I get ready, Jonah. hm?" She cocked her head and Jonah was silent. "You say you care about what I want but you haven't bothered to ask my opinion, either."She waited for his argument but he had none and she knew it.

Sure, she wasn't ready, not even close but she wasn't a child, and she did not wish to be treated like one. She looked at their parents, there was a light in her father's eyes that registered as pride and there was something in her mother's eyes that registered as fear?

"We do we depart, Father?"
"First thing Tomorrow. Are you sure about this, Clara? You know I would not put you in any danger-" He shot a look to Jonah before continuing "-Rhaegar is a good man but you need not win his favor if you do not wish to, there will be plenty of other women there who want his hand."
Clara hadn't thought about it actually, she knew of Rhaegar but knew nothing of him. Would she want to marry a man she never met? It wasn't as if she'd just be handed off to him. He would be given a choose among many -likely more healthy women- sand if she did like him enough then she would decide.
"I will decide on my own and I will let you know, we have to see the bridge before we cross it, yes?" She said and her father smiled then. "Yes."
"I will prepare then," She said they were dismissed. Jonah said nothing to her that entire morning.
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Later that night as they were preparing for the journey, Jonah felt bad. He knew he was wrong, he shouted at his mother, upset his sister, all in the name of protecting her. He still felt wrong about this whole thing but she was right. She wasn't a child anymore and while he would protect her forever. He couldn't. She had to make her own choices; that was what he wanted after all. He made his way to her chamber, all dressed in riding gear, his sword sheathed at his side, and knocked lightly. "Come" she called and he entered, his head down."Oh, Jon." she said and he knew she was still upset with him but didn't completely hate him. He sighed before he began." Clara...I'm sorry." He said. "I didn't mean to upset you, or disrespect you, I look at you, and I remember how things were and I just-" He looked down at his feet, rubbing the back of his head."It's alright, Pup." She said and he looked up at her. Pup, that was a good sign. "You meant well, but you've got to understand, I'm not that child anymore, you don't have to worry for me."
"you sleep walk and have coughing fits, yes I do."She smiled. "you know what I mean." She said and walked up to him, she placed her hands on his shoulders and sighed. "Mother has been preparing me for this day for a long time, I knew it was coming, and yes, I'm scared but I will be fine, I can handle to besides..." she smiled up at him taking his face in either hand and lowered it to her lips. "I know I have you to look out for me if something does go wrong." She said and smiled up at him, releasing him He nodded. [color=#E80000]"Alright, Songbird, but if something goes wrong, try not to do anything that will get me hanged or beheaded, I will take it very personally if you do." He aid and she chuckled and shoved him playfully. "Go, we must get ready."
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Present Day
"Ready, Songbird?" Jonah whispered down at her. Clara looked up at him, a nod as they were ushered into the Black Keep, the ballroom was lavish and as daunting as she imagined. She took a breath with normal was constricting due to her illness, she was much more constricted by the corset she wore. It was in the south style so most of her is showing much more of her then even she saw on a regular basis. "Careful, that thing you're wrapped up in will pop. It'll make a terrible impression on the royal family or a good one if you're trying to get the Prince's attention " Jonah grinned wolfishly. Clara scrunched up her nose. her corset was mighty tight, and she was wearing a lot less than she had been used to now that they were in the Southlands. She'd never been this far south before. The Sun felt different down here and she already missed the snow but then again, she was Winter's Child, she preferred the cold.

Clara watched as the Graysons and then the Chaimbers were introduced while Jonah had been not so casually staring the line of yellow-haired women. "Do you know them?" Clara whispered. Jonah rose his brows. "Huh?" He asked, finally looking in her direction. ""The Princes and the Princess? Do you know them?"she asked again and Jonah shrugged a shoulder, casting his gaze abut the "I sort of remember Rhaegar, we met when I was really small. I've seen Brom a few times with Father but I don't know him well but the Princess...I have never seen her before, I look forward to meeting her.." he said and Clara closed her eyes to avoid rolling them. Her brother was a flirt, and it was hard to get his eyes off on any woman that was his pray. Luckily for them, he was a good man otherwise, she'd have more nieces and nephews than she knew what to do with."We are supposed to be here for me, Pup."
"We are, we are." He said and patted her shoulder. "Surely the Princess will need something to do while her brother courts you all, no?"
"If it helps you sleep at night, Brother."
"With any luck, I'll be much too busy." He said with a wolfish grin and Clara closed a hand over her face. She asked for that, she really did.

Next, it was their turn to be presented to the royal family and Jonah straightened himself up.

"May I present to you, The noble House Allyrion. Lord Ramsey and Lady Charlotte." The herald began Their mother and father bowed respectfully. "And their children, Lord Magnus ." He said and Jonah seemed to want to wince but didn't. He merely smiled and bowed grandly to the King and Queen. Clara knew he didn't like being called by that name, he hadn't felt like he earned it yet, and being called that name in front of his namesake would daunting. Of course, he didn't tell her this nor would he but she could read him too well. "Lady Clara." Clara stepped up and curtseyed. "You're Graces" before stepping aside for the next family.
Suddenly, she felt it again. That static, sending a shock up her spine. The storm was still on its way and it was hit here.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne Character Portrait: Vivienne Chaimbers
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LARA CAVALIER
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Eldest Child | The White Frog, Swan Princess
#A8C5EA | Outfit


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The expression is always the hardest part, Lara consoled herself as she unpicked the doll's smile for the third time with raw fingers. The rest of her handiwork was perfect – an ideal girl with golden hair who stood composed in a pretty dress – but when it came to a believable smile Lara's ability always fell short. She was ready to give up. She took no enjoyment in sewing nor in projecting herself onto childish playthings, despite having a knack for both. Now that she'd pulled out of her trance, she ran her tongue over her bottom lip and discovered it to be swollen from being absent-mindedly sucked on while she worked. There was without a doubt lipstick coating her teeth at this point.

The sweltering heat was getting to her, her eyes drooping and head getting heavy with dreams of a cool breeze or spring. She knew that her legs were dripping with sweat beneath her ridiculous skirts. How long had she been in this carriage for? She shut her eyes and rested the back of her head against the seat, almost falling asleep to the lull of the wheels and the fragments of a conversation between her father and the guard being held on horseback outside. She let out a silent sigh and rested the faceless doll on her poofy lap when a sharp ahem caught her attention. She squinted open her eyes to meet the disapproving scowl of her mother, The Beak of the Marsh. Now, Lara was very well aware that 'marsh' was just another fancy name for swamp and she knew that would be no secret to any of the other nobles either. Surely, the Cavaliers of Swampland were going to be brought up and chuckled about at least once in dinner conversation by someone she was obligated to dance with. Actually, if she considered that an embarrassment, perhaps she should have been more worried about the story surrounding her last attempted marriage circling the halls of the Black Keep. Oh, she could already hear the squire announcing their arrival and the whispers of smirking noblemen and women with nothing better to do than sit and preen each other's feathers.


“AHEM.” Lara snapped her attention back to the calculative gaze of her mother. “Sit up straight, you'll flatten your hair.” Lady Beatrice scolded, then narrowed her green eyes and leaned forward to inspect her daughter, “Not that you've done anything to deserve me worrying for it. Here,” her hands attacked her stunning updo and pulled away two golden pins with clusters of creamy white pearls garnishing their tips. Lara watched her hands work as they twisted the platinum curls that framed her face and pinned them back, retrieving new pins from her own hair until Lara's was completely done up and Beatrice's red waves were scraping past her shoulders. Beatrice broke into an earnest smile as she fell back to admire her work, clapping her weathered hands together. No matter how much powder she dusted her skin with, the veins and swollen joints on her fingers denied her ignorance of her age. “There we go. See how much nicer that is? It looks like you put in an effort for them.” Lara touched her hair self-consciously and frowned.

“Smile!” Beatrice demanded jovially and stretched her daughter's powdered cheeks, “You only get an opportunity like this once. All you have to do is dance and laugh and curtsey and you'll blow them all away. Do you understand how lucky you are to meet your to-be husband so long before you are to be wed?”

Lara gave her mother a sympathetic look, knowing that she, like many others, had met her father on the same day as their marriage... for better or for worse. “Mother, are you glad that you married Father?”

“The Gods have my gratitude,” Beatrice half-lied. Even Lara could tell that it was more complicated than that. “Your Father is a good man. With him, I have birthed many beautiful children.” She smiled endearingly at Lara and the young woman smiled back hopefully. “But I will not flatter you for any longer. I know you only mean to distract me.”

“That was not my intention at all!” Lara insisted hurriedly, “I was only wondering whether that nobleman was a good man, like Father is. Perhaps I should apologise in person for what happened. We could visit on our -”

“You're two years too late,” Beatrice warned. “I cannot believe I'm saying this, but your rebellion blossomed into this opportunity and we should all be glad. You will not weasel your way out of this, do you understand me? The only way to avoid this was to marry that man on that day.”

“How was I supposed to know this disaster was going to happen?” Lara grumbled under her breath childishly and leaned back.

“Sit up, think of your hair! This is an opportunity, not a disaster and you should be grateful. Nobody knew, Lara Lee. We all thought you had thrown away your future. It’s a miracle that we even received an invitation. Now, must you argue? Your voice is giving me a headache. Go back to sewing, your doll is missing its smile.” Lara dipped her head down and picked up her needle and thread, not wanting to upset her mother further. Beatrice watched her with pursed lips before deciding to enforce her authority one step more. “You do understand what I am saying, Lara Lee? That to deserve a King -”

“I must act like a Queen, I know.” Lara finished sullenly. Her knees shifted uncomfortably and she tried to find them under her mound of skirts, but all she found was her faceless doll. A satisfied smile crept across Beatrice's face.

“And from what I can see, my little girl isn't holding her head like it balances a crown,” she cooed and tilted her child's chin up. The wavering strength in Lara's brown eyes displeased her and she dug her thumbnail into the skin beneath her swollen lip, “Don't let the crown fall.”

Lara only nodded, her own face betraying her by clearly displaying how terrified she was made by this entire ordeal. The expression, after all, was the hardest part. The conversation continued as Lady Beatrice forced Lara to recite the lines she had to say when meeting with the King and Queen and reminded her of the houses she was allowed to converse with, and the characters that she would be flayed for approaching. When the ride came to an end, the lecturing did not. As Lara hitched up her masses of skirts and stepped out of the carriage she felt that her face was about to melt off from boredom. She slipped before she made it to the ground and was immediately assisted by rough hands.

“Your feet asleep, Frog?” Lara looked up at the serious face of her father. She immediately wrapped him into a hug and hit one foot against the ground in an attempt to wake it.

“I'm afraid I'm not a very good frog today.” There was bitterness in those words and James understood why.

“It's a long journey,” he said apologetically and returned her hug, rocking her like a child. “That's not over yet. You should have come outside to join me for a ride. You would enjoy the landscape."

"Ha! Me, on a ho-" As if on cue, a loud snort interrupted Lara's indignant reply and she yelped and clutched to her father like a lifeline. She felt hot air on the back of her neck and whimpered, scooting around behind him to glare at the creature from a safe distance.

"Your desire for freedom is no rival to your fear," James ridiculed and scratched his stallion behind the ears. Lara glanced up at the horse's soulless, buggy eyes and mimicked it by flaring her nostrils. "It bothers me, how my daring frog can look down at the world from the tallest tree... yet succumb to tears when on top of a horse."

"I am not crying!" she shot, I won't cry, I was a child then! I have the good sense to not get on one, now!" The horse whinnied and Lara almost looked apologetic. "Please just... send it away. Now. Please, before I hurt its feelings further."

"Alright, Froggy." James grunted. "Fiore, there. Tch tch." The horse walked over to the Castillon staff tasked with handling it. James shook his head with a sigh at his daughter's erratic behaviour then whispered, "Chin up. Your Mother's coming."

“No, no.” Beatrice bustled over and pried the father and daughter apart. “Did I hear frog? There will be no frogs here, only swans.”

“Shall I send her back home, then?” James made a gesture telling Lara to slip away and turned to his wife with a frown, “When will you admit that our daughter is a frog?”

Lara stifled laughter and shuffled around the back of the carriage while her parents argued whether she was a frog or a swan. Even a little disagreement like that could be blown out of proportion and she didn't like to stick around when things got heavy. From there she could still hear her parents bickering and cradled her naked arms, sighing. She was already beginning to feel lonely. For someone who appreciated solitude as much as herself, it was odd that the thought of her siblings being so far away from her made her feel stripped and vulnerable.

"Lady Lara," one of the Cavalier guardsmen addressed her and she readjusted her features as quickly as she could - not quick enough, he saw her frown. She turned to him and her eyes immediately lightened with joy at what he held in his hands. A little pink nose squeezed through the bars of a cage, sniffing the air excitedly as it sensed the presence of its mother.

"Delilah!" Lara moved forward in a rush, accidentally treading on her skirt and slipping a little before swooping in and retrieving the fat white rabbit from its prison. She nuzzled her fur without care for the make up stains she was leaving on the creature and scratched behind her long ears, the spell of loneliness and vulnerability inside of her lifted. After calming down from their reunion she peered at the guardsman through one eye and pulled her face away from her rabbit to flash him a huge grin. "Sorry that I asked this of you. Delilah is a Cavalier too, just... not what you expected to be guarding? I hope she wasn't trouble." That was a lie. She was yearning to hear of any sort of mishap.

"There was no trouble, my Lady." The guardsmen said and bowed.

"Are you sure? Not even a fox that gave you the evil eye or a necklace she yanked from a lady's neck?"

"... No, I don't recall anythi -"

"If you say so." Lara twisted on her heels with Delilah cradled in her arms and began to trot back to her parents, ignoring the guard asking to put the rabbit back into the cage. "Don't worry, Lilah. I'm sure he'll notice the hole you chewed through his trousers soon." She reassured the rabbit. When Lara returned she found Lord and Lady Swan to be in the exact same argument she left them in. "Where is it written that I can't be the princess and the frog?" She piped up as she hopped between them. Lady Beatrice groaned and spun away while Lord James scratched Delilah's head and made "chu" noises.

"Lara Lee, please realise that your father is insulting you - are you holding a rabbit?"

"It can't be helped," she claimed, "Magnolia insisted that I take her with me and now, Delilah tires of cages. I won't force her to do anything against her will." Because I'm a good mother. She thought bitterly and watched her mother's lips tighten. James was quick to separate them.

"I think it's time we go in," he said briskly, "Lara, please put the rabbit away. We don't want to make any unsavoury first impressions." Lara nodded and went to find the cage, which she discovered not with the guard but with a servant of the Black Keep. She asked him to take her to her room for the time being and feed her before coming back to her parents while attempting to rub off the dirty rabbit paw print on her bust. She forced a smile and a nod and her parents reached out to put a hand on each of her shoulders before they began to ascend the stairs to the castle.

~~~

Upon taking one step inside Lara was assaulted by what she felt to be a million reflections of herself, all on shiny metallic surfaces. This was the grandest grand foyer she had ever seen, large and filled to the brim with expense over expense. A part of her was impressed and wanted to run around touching everything, but a bigger part was regretful the children weren't there to see the castle. They would have loved it. A servant came to speak to them and Lara's eyes continued to scan everything in sight during his small rehearsed greeting.

She raised her brow as she passed a particularly polished display she could see herself clearly reflected on in full. At least, the creature that followed her movements - instead of a frog an unfamiliar "Princess" blinked right back at her. The illusion was broken when she grinned and she rubbed furiously at the pink wax speckling her teeth. She dismissed her reflection with a wave like it would go away then smiled at the thought of something humorous. Delilah was going to dig into this goldmine like a drunkard diving into a sea of whiskey. Beatrice shushed her quiet giggle, glancing in her direction. Her eyes widened in alarm when she noticed the faded dirt on Lara's chest. Lara ducked her head down in guilt then distracted herself with the magnificent ballroom. She couldn't help but feel just a little bit excited as she looked around at who else had arrived. The Allyrions had just been introduced before them, their son looking just like the wolf he was spoken to be and their young daughter - just older than Penelope - looking more like a big-eyed doe than a fierce predator. Lara looked to the others, not allowing herself to give the males thought and instead fixating herself on the ladies of the court. Her face paled as she stared at the back of the bewitching woman in the midnight gown, sunk when she spotted the blonde beauty in pale blue then turned grey as she zoned in on the three fair blonde sisters. Each Noblewoman held their own unique and intriguing air, one of them - the woman in the pink dress - seeming to have something particularly dangerous lingering in her smile. Dangerous meaning tempting. Was it an unspoken rule that all nobility must be gorgeous? With which of her lacking charms was she supposed to compete against these women with? Now she was getting annoyed with herself. She didn't need beauty or any pretty, witty, fluttery words! If she could tackle two fighting hounds, why not a romantic rival? No, not romantic. Political opponent. Not even that. Prince bandit. That sounded better. If only to make her day a little brighter, it was all she could ask - all she could pray - that that nobleman had already married and sunk to the bottom of the ocean on his honeymoon voyage. Perhaps she was being too morbid in her wishes.


"I present the noble house of Cavalier. Lord James and Lady Beatrice, escorting their eldest daughter, Lady Lara Lee."

Lara glanced up from her daydreams with a snap. She gave her parents a signal for help with her eyes that was returned by an urging look. She held her breath and made sure to not let the crown fall as she stepped forth to sink into a very low, respectful curtsey. She was not excited to meet the King, she was not excited to meet the King, no, she was not excited... She didn't dare look up at the two intimidating and (secretly) awe-inspiring figures before her.

"Your Majesties," she said softly, but not quietly. "The Gods have my gratitude." Such a simple set of words that took forever to come out right in practise. In truth her mother had planned a page long monologue about how brave the King was and how beautiful the Queen was but while standing in front of everyone like this... she couldn't. She couldn't find it within herself to spill out such pretentious jargon with everyone watching, it felt too much like a performance. She stood out of her curtsey and moved back to her parents who gave her small nods of approval then walked with her to edge of the room to await the next attendants. Lara had a violent vision of the chandelier above her falling down and crushing her head right then and there and spent a moment debating whether it was a nightmare or fantasy. As unusual as it was for her... she was in a bloody bad mood, and as per usual... she was terrible at hiding it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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AVERY THATCHER
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Eldest Son | The Armadillo
#FF4500 | Outfit
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ELLIOT THATCHER
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Youngest Son | The Casanova
#551A8B | Outfit
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ILENE THATCHER
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Only Daughter | The Thorny Rose
#CD1076 | Outfit

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"Oh come on, you can do better than that," Avery grinned at his younger brother, lowering the large shield with the family armadillo crest adorning the front. "Where was the soul in that swing? The fight?"

"Oh shut up or it'll be your soul floating about," Elliot grumbled as he recovered from the bounce his swing had produced when it collided with Avery's shield. Elliot rolled his shoulders and twirled his swords in his hands as he got back into a crouching position as he and Avery circled each other.

"You'll have to practice more for that feat. At this rate you wouldn't be able to slaughter a slug," Avery taunted, his blue eyes alight with a teasing glint. Elliot gave a war cry as he rushed forward, right sword swinging, forcing Avery to bring his shield up and step back as Elliot twirled with the force to bring his left sword down at Avery's shoulder which Avery parried only to get a kick. Avery stumbled back from the kick and barely brought his shield up to block the two sword coming down from above. Avery flicked his own sword out to swat Elliot's ankles with the flat of his blade. "Better! But I still got you. In a real fight I would have slashed your ankles and you would be downed."

"If you didn't have that shield to hide behind I would have gotten you," Elliot growled as he pulled back to get some distance.

"Most will fight with shields. You need to find a way to get beneath them or you'll never win."

"Oh honestly, don't you two ever get bored of playing with your swords?" Ilene grumbled from where she sat beneath a shaded tree. Ilene pulled at one of her threads in her needle work as she fixed one of Avery's shirts. Her blond hair was down today, cascading down around her face and shoulders as she worked.

Elliot couldn't help the grin playing on his lips. "No, it is actually quite fun to play with my sword. Better yet with another slowly rolling over it."

Ilene looked up at her younger sibling aghast. "Elliot! Must you always interject with such lewd imagery?

"You started it," Elliot laughed.

Avery rolled his eyes at his siblings. Realizing he'd lost Elliots attention and would no doubt not get any real sword training from the man, he put his sword away and hoisted the shield on his back. Avery ran a hand through his own blond locks with a sigh. "I guess we are done for the day. I am going to go into the field. Farmer Padrick asked for some assistance in the cornfield. Tell mother and father please."

"I am not your page. You can tell them yourself. I am going out now that we are done here," Elliot answered and put away his own swords.

"Damn it Elliot, I know very well where you are going. You are going to give Mam a heart attack at this rate. Leave that poor boy alone. He's the best stable hand we've got and you'll scare him off."

Elliot gave his brother a mock look of horror and pressed his hands against his chest as if he had been struck. "Brother! You make me out to be a monster! I am wounded! I merely offer him my affections!"

Ilene and Avery both gave each other a look before leveling their gazes at Elliot un-phased by the youngest's theatrics. Elliot gave a pout before he gave up the charade. He rested his hands on his hip. "Approval or not, I am going," Elliot announced as he turned away. Before either brother could leave, however, their mother's voice rang out over the garden, calling all three of them. The three siblings glanced at each other in a bit of worry and confusion. It wasn't often their mother called for all three of them at once. The immediate thought was that something grave had occurred. Elliot and Avery both helped their sister gather her sewing before the three of them hurried back to the manor where their mother was calling for them.

Lady Ophelia was yet beautiful in her old age, a testament to the beauty she had been. She had aged gracefully, the wrinkles barely tugging at her eyes and lips. Her skin was still fair like her daughter's though slightly roughened by her hard work. Her pale golden hair was beginning to grow in silvery and gave her an air of sophistication. Even her movements were yet graceful and enchanting. Ilene truly hoped that she too aged as well as her mother. It was easy to see where the Thatcher children had gotten their charm and beauty from. Ophelia held her head high and proud as she rested her warm eyes on each of her children.

"Oh, Avery, Elliot, you both are covered in dirt again. And look at the holes in your clothing! You make me and Ilene work just to mend your clothing," she chided lovingly. "Your sister is already mending clothes," she mused as she looked at what Ilene was holding.

"Sorry, Mam. We were training in the yard. Has somewhat happened? Is everything all right?" Avery asked her, concern playing on his handsome features.

"It is not trouble so don't worry yourself over it but we received a letter from our liege of the Black Keep your father and I would like to discuss with you."

"The Black Keep?"

It wasn't often their parents brought them into counsel after a letter. What was all of this about? Three three siblings glanced between each other before they followed their mother into the counsel room where their father was waiting for them. Just as their mother, Lord William was a handsome man in his aging. Though far more weather and stress worn, the lines of his face gave him a sort of stoic recognition. His good nature was easily seen in his deep blue eyes, shinning through the gruffness of his love of simplicity. Unlike most lords, he was happy with the simple pleasures, never over adorning his home with trinkets. Even the clothing he preferred was tailored to be far less rich and elaborate for his station. It was easy to see Avery took after that predilection. Lord William smiled as his wife took her place at his right hand and he looked over his children as he sat forward.

"As I am sure your mother has already explained, we just received a message from his Majesty and her Highness. They have invited us to stay for the summer in the Black Keep."

"Stay for the summer the Black Keep?" Ilene repeated in surprise. That was quite the honor but there had to be more to it then that. The king and queen would have no use for all of them to take up residence there for an entire summer.

"Is that wise? Who would watch over our lands? The people?" Avery interjected. "I could stay home and watch over everything. You both know I do not have the desire to play in court intrigue. There are far more important things to worry about here." Ah, the ever practical Avery. If he could, he'd avoid these political games as much as possible.

"We will have the men here protecting the residence. You don't need to worry about that, Son. Unfortunately, the three of you must attend," Lord William explained.

"You see, they are holding a ball and we are not the only nobility that will be attending. All of the families have been called upon," Lady Ophelia finished. The lord and lady let that settle on their children for a moment. Realization of what the ball really meant was quick to sour everyone's mood.

"So it is a marriage convention, with each of us a prize for the royalty?" Elliot mused sourly.

"You mean me and Avery," Ilene remarked to Elliot. "We are eldest and neither of us have married yet. The time is ticking," she finished dryly.

"All of us. They just said all of us. I am not exempt," Elliot sighed and crossed his arms.

"Regardless," Avery said with a wave to quite them both before they began to bicker, "We have to go. Do we have a choice in any of this?" Avery asked his parents. He personally had no desire to marry, princess or nobility, that would be nothing but a pretty face. He had other concerns.

"You do have a choice in a selection of a marriage partner. You and your brother mostly. Should the princes take an interest and pursue Ilene, we will attempt to pursue the arrangement." William answered sadly. "I am sorry my Starlit. I know your feelings about a proper husband but as a queen, you could do much. Other than that, you to will have a choice of your marriage though we do implore you to find someone to settle with. You are right in thinking that time is beginning to run thin. You've forced many suitors away." He hated to speak this way, especially to his daughter, but soon, no nobleman would ask for her hand, beautiful or not. Lord William then looked at Avery pointedly. Avery would know why. He had yet to produce an heir and considering Elliot's odd... fancy, he did not expect to see one from him any time soon.

"I know father. I am sorry for making your life so much harder. I will keep your words and duty in mind, but I will not change myself either; not for any man, may it even be the king himself," she answered. The suitors would have to accept her as she was, not a pretty picture of what they expected.

"Of course my dear. I would not ask for you to change yourself. I want you to be happy to," her father said.

"When will be leaving?" Avery asked sullenly.

"Tomorrow," Ophelia answered. "Finish the tasks you have for the day and prepare to ride."
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Finally, they were nearing the castle. Avery could see it rising up like the looming bars of a cage. He wished this summer was already over and that they were riding on their way home, not towards this dreaded place. The castle itself looked mesmerizing but the entire trip was colored by the fact that he would more than likely have to come out of this with a marriage proposal. He had had no intention of ever being married but he knew that would break his parents hearts. He needed an heir though he did not want to go through with this in the least bit. Avery pulled the rein's of his grey stallion to get it to stop and stood up in the saddle measuring the time. They would be at the gates in about half an hour. He heard a horse neighing behind him and turned to see his brother riding up beside him. Elliot at least was enjoying the horse ride. He kept straying off from the main road to explore at a safe distance.

Elliot looked like quite the lord with his rich clothing fashioned in the green and rusty red of their house. The Blazon stood out on his chest like a beacon. Avery himself had been forced into a fashionable attire least he be confused with a peasant though they were highly uncomfortable clothing. He felt like a peacock to be gawked at, what with the hot layers covering his skin. He even had a cape draped over his shoulders in the rich green his sister had crafted. It was connected to his attire with the golden clasp of the armadillo holding the evergreen leaves. Avery thought he looked absolutely ridiculous.

"Don't look so sour, Avery. You'r face will freeze that way. There isn't much going for you but your face, so don't screw it up," Elliot teased.

"Ease for you to say. I don't want to be here."

"Avery, I know you are looking at this through the duty lens but there is more to it then that. Look at it this way. Sure we are being paraded around like show ponies, but look where we are. We are at the Black Keep. We don't often come here or leave our territory. Don't let one part of it sour the rest of your mood. Take the time to enjoy yourself a little bit. You'll be better off."

Avery looked over at Elliot with an arched brow as he studied his brother. Elliot arched his own brow then. "What? Why are you staring at me?"

"Nothing. Just surprised you can say something intelligent and supporting."

Elliot scoffed and punched him in the arm. "I might as well not say anything at all if my words are so squandered," Elliot said with a proud toss of his head.

"You really are such a drama queen" Avery chuckled.

"Drama king. But look, I've made you laugh," Elliot answered with a mischievous grin. "My work here is done. You scowling and groaning... it doesn't suit you so put a smile on your face. Come on."

Avery was smiling as he shook his head and followed his brother back to the carriage. The two of them lined up with it and Avery knocked on the wall to draw someone's attention from inside. Ilene parted the curtains to look out at her brothers. "We'll be there shortly. he announced.

"All right. Thank you," she answered.

Within moment, their carriage arrived and both boys dismounted and handed their horses off to the stable hand. Elliot came around to the carriage door and stood aside as his father stepped down with a thank you who in turn helped his mother down. Elliot moved forward to offer his arm to Ilene then. Ilene carefully stepped out so she wouldn't trip on her dress. It was the same lush green as Avery's cloak with delicate silver and red laces and designs down the front and upon the little jacket she sported to cover her back. Her golden hair was done up extravagantly with little pink blossoms woven throughout. From it, some of her hair cascaded down her shoulder in rivulets to frame her face. An emerald necklace hugged her throat and she fussed with it to make sure it sat straight.

"You look beautiful, Ilene."

"Thank you, Avery. You should wear clothing like this more often. It suits you. And you to, Elliot."

Avery shook his head amused but Elliot preened like a bird and adjusted his shirt. Then it was time to head inside. Lord William escorted Ophelia first before Avery led Ilene with Elliot at the rear.

"Introducing Lord and Lady of the South, William and Ophelia Thatcher with their children Avery, Ilene, and Elliot Thatcher."

The family gave their bows and sweet words then before moving to stand farther away and waited.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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#, as written by mjolnir
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RHAEGAR CASTILLON
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Heir to Blackvale | The Falcon
#B70909 | Outfit
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BROM CASTILLON
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Prince | The Peacock
#061B62 | Outfit
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SYLAS THORNE
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Heir to Dark Wood | The Viper
#999999 | Outfit
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GWENDOLYNN CASTILLON
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Princess | The Little Dove
#F56E6F | Outfit


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Sylas bowed beside his sister while she curtsied towards the King and Queen. As he did, his gaze never left the Queen Guinevere who seemed to be intently watching him with an animalistic hunger. He quirked a brow as a stood upright, adjusting his attire as he glanced away. Although the gaze was direct and a bit unnerving, he held his composure and if anything stood tall and strong.

After the King and Queen moved on to greet the next family, Sylas stood elegant and tall as his mother held his arm. His gaze was drown towards his sister when he heard her voice, “Excuse me mother, for I must steal by brother. I feel that having some alcohol in my system may make the socializing a tad less painful.”

He smiled towards his mother as she adjusted part of his suit and then a bit of Sylva’s hair. “I would say behave, but where is the fun in that.” She then gave him a more serious look which garnered his full attention. “Make sure she doesn't get too drunk. Remember what happened that one New Years eve?”

Sylas looked between his mother and Sylva, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, of course mother.”

“Yes yes, I accidentally burnt down half the stables. Don’t worry mother. He will take care of me, he always does.”

Sylva slid her arm through his and began to guide him away. He glanced back over his shoulder towards his mother before they were too far away, “It’s my turn to get drunk anyways.” He winked towards Desdemona who chuckled at him before waving them off.

When they reached the table that was worked by a young servant girl, Sylas smiled towards the girl while giving a sly wink. He grabbed himself and his sister a glass of champagne before leading her over towards the large windows that lead out to the gardens. He watched the King and Queen greet each family as he sipped his champagne. When he noticed the mannerisms in the King shift at the presence of the Graysons, he quirked a brow, leaning in towards his sister slightly. “Now what could have the mighty Magnus so tense, I wonder?”

As more families filed into the ballroom Sylas felt like the viper in the brush patiently watching as all the field mice scurry around him. He was ready to pounce. Every move, every suggestive glance and translative body gesture had him eager to attack. But all the exterior showed was a calm, cool and collected young man. Refined, and elegant, everything a young lord should be and everything young women swooned over. He was going to give the Prince’s a run for their money. Seduce and destroy every woman just to watch the Blackvale crumble.

His train of thought was disrupted when Maxwell moved before him, bowing in greeting. “My Lord.”

“Ah. Maxwell. This is my lovely sister Sylva.” Sylas motioned to his sister.

“A pleasure my Lady.” Maxwell bowed in her direction. Sylas then motioned for the young man to come closure and keep to hushed tones. “I have taken care of your rooms, my Lord. The adjacent chambers have a shared door so that you make travel between the two without notice.”

Sylas reached into his pocket pulling out a couple more gold coins, slipping them into Maxwell’s pocket. “That’s a good man. Now…” He took a step closer to the servant, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Who is your allegiance to?”

“You my Lord.”

“Good man. I’d like you to keep your ears open. Anything and everything you hear you report to me… The more useful, the more gold for you. As long as you’re loyal to me, you’ll never want for anything ever again in your life.” Sylas’ grasp on Maxwell’s shoulder tightened, not enough to cause pain but enough to send a message. “If you betray me, the King will wake up to your head on his breakfast tray.”

***

Gwendolynn sat at a window seat in the study, resting her chin upon her arms on the windowsill as she watched the families arrive. “The Davernys… That’s all seven.”

Rhaegar stood behind her with his right arm raised, resting against the wall as he too watched the arrivals. “Do you think it was intentional for it to be exactly ten ladies and ten gentleman?” More of a rhetorical question that literal. Of course, it was intentional. Most likely every Lord and Lady was hoping for their child to make a smart match during their stay here. And a majority of them would be pushing their children at them… Him.

Gwen slowly reached behind her to grab Rhaegar’s hand in hers while she looked over her shoulder towards Brom. “This… is our last summer together.”

The comment caused Brom to stop his mindless scanning of the numerous books in the room to look towards his sister. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but a lump formed in his throat. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind. Him and his siblings haven’t been apart for more than a month but now… This summer was going to take at least Gwen to the opposite side of the nation.

Rhaegar gently squeezed Gwen’s hand while Brom walked over to her, and place a kiss on her forehead. He remained silent as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she wrested her head against his side.

They remained silent. They hoped maybe if they never let go then no one could tear them apart. A trio forced to separate because of ridiculous societal norms and laws. It took everything they had not to cry or run away. It was their duty… A horrible responsibility.

The knock on the door hit them all like a dagger in the back. Their grips on each other tightened, but they did not move. After a moment without an answer, the servant slowly opened the door. “Your Graces… Your mother has asked me to fetch you.”

Gwen took a deep breath before she finally moved to her feet, exchanging a look between her older brothers. They all we scared and they knew it. They didn’t have to say anything to know. The one thing they knew best was each other.

“Come here,” Brom whispered before pulling them in an embrace. He patted his brother’s back while pressing his forehead against Rhaegar’s. His other arm held Gwen close, her forehead resting against the twins’ jaws.

“I’m sorry…” The servant spoke up again. “But your mother implores. If you do not come, I’ll be the one to pay.”

Rhaegar pulled his siblings in tighter for one last embrace before whispering to them, “No matter what, we have each other. Do not settle for anyone short of amazing… If we have to run away and live as paupers to be happy, then so be it.” He leaned in pressing his lips to Gwen’s forehead while using his hand to rustle Brom’s hair. He then nodded his head towards the servant, “Apologies. I do not want you to suffer on our account.”

As they walked down the hall towards the ballroom they recited the names of the different Lords and Ladies that will be present. Their mother made sure they knew who was who. Royalty should know their people. Of course Rhaegar and Gwendolynn had the names straight weeks ago while Brom was lucky if he could guess how many children each family had.

They neared the large doors at the top of the grand staircase and while Rhaegar and Brom continued forward, Gwen froze in her tracks. It wasn’t until the servant had his hands on the door that the twins turned around looking for her. “…I can’t do this.”

The brothers both held out their arms to her while Rhaegar nods his head towards the door, “We’re right here with you.”

“Yeah and if you fall we’ll be the first to laugh.” Rhaegar smacked Brom in the chest, “Ow.”

Just as Brom went to smack the crown right off of Rhaegar’s head, Gwen quickly ran up between the two and took their arms. “How about you both stop fighting and escort me so I don’t fall in these ridiculous shoes.”

”Your Grace, the Queen wanted me to announce you one at a time and—”

“It’s all of us or none of us.”

Brom rose his brows towards Rhaegar as they both chuckled at the ferocity in Gwen’s voice obvious from her nerves. “Remind me not to piss her off,” he whispered towards his brother as the servant pushed open the large doors.

Their escort stepped out of the shadows where two other men waited. With a motion of his hand the two men raised horns to their lips and blew a tune in sync to gain the company’s attention.

“Seriously? A horn?”

Rhaegar brought snorted back a laugh as he raised his hand to cover his mouth.

”My Lords. My Ladies.” As she the servant started, Gwen’s grasp on her brother’s arms tightened. ”It is my honor to present to you the royal children of the family Castillon.” He motioned towards them and with a deep breath they stepped forward. Gwen could have sworn she saw stem flood out of her mother’s ears at the sight of them entering together, arm in arm. ”Eldest son to the King and Queen, heir to the Blackvale Rhaegar, his twin brother, Prince and King’s Guard Brom and their sister Gwendolynn.”

The siblings walked down the stairs elegantly, arm in arm. Gwen tried to best not to trip but even when she thought she was losing her balance her brothers just held her steady. When they reached the ballroom floor Rhaegar and Brom bowed while Gwen curtsied. They walked through the crowd of people towards their parents. Gwen tried not to look at her feet as she walked, her nerves growing with each pair of eyes she saw fixed on her.

When they reached the King and Queen, Magnus stepped forward raising his hand in a way to ask the crowd to grow silent. “I would like to thank you all for making the long journey to the Black Keep. We are pleased to accept you all into our home for the summer. Although our time together is to hopefully make new alliances and marriages between our children it is also a chance for us all to get a chance to know each other and create new friendships where we previously wouldn’t have the opportunity. So I’d like you all to make yourselves at home and please do enjoy yourselves.”

King Magnus bows towards the crowd before motioning towards his wife. Queen Guinevere tried to seem as genuine as possible when addressing the crowd. “In celebration of the beginning to this great summer and new friends, we invite all of our children in the dance of the Blackvale.” The Queen motioned towards the Castillon children beckoning them to take their place in the center of the dance floor. “The dance is simple,” she holds out her hand towards her kids who lined up where Brom and Rhaegar were in one line and Gwen was on the other side. “Our strapping young men will line up across from the beautiful young ladies. They share a dance with the woman across from them and when the song changes you switch partners. The dance is over when you’ve danced with every young man or woman.”

Sylas’ attention shifted towards the main staircase when he heard the horns. He didn’t know if he was disappointed or what about the royal children looking fairly attractive and nice. Of course, nice means nothing, especially when Thornes are around.

Although he never of thought of anyone other than his sister in a none loathing matter, he was surprised at how agreeable the Castillon daughter was. He had heard rumors about her but words failed to compare. He wondered how many of the men in the room were going to fight at the chance for a chance at her hand. Her beauty no doubt would only make her more desirable partnered with her status as the Princess of the Blackvale. It only made the wheels in his head turn as he contemplated the demise he could cause.

He sighed when he heard the Queen’s announcement about some sort of Blackvale dance. Sylas held out his hand for his sister and guided her towards the forming lines of the young men and women around their age. Trying not to be blatantly obvious he made sure that after he helped his sister to her place that he did not stand across from her. Instead he moved into an empty place in the line that was across from the Daverny girl.

Underneath all of what she wore he imagined a beautiful woman was there. Sylas could respect that she wanted to be her own person and not conform to societal norms. But either way he would like nothing more than this dance to be over with.

Sylas bowed towards the woman before offering her his right hand while his left hand was behind his back, “Ms. Daverny.”

Rhaegar made his place to the line while his hands nimbly worked on his cloak. He removed the cloak before handing it the closest servant. “Thank you William.” He patted the lad’s shoulder before he resumed his place, adjusting his sleeves so he’d be more than capable of dancing.

He waited patiently, cupping his hands together before him as he watched the others line up. Before some of the more eager girls shuffled their way before him, he reached out his hand to grab Clara’s and guided her across from him. “Apologizes, but I think I could handle this evening better having the first dance with a familiar face.”

Rhaegar knew Clara may not have remembered him because it’s been numerous years since they had seen each other. But he hoped she wouldn’t hate him for wanting to dance with the one person he knew.

Still being the gentleman he is, he bowed before her as the dance entails then offered her his hand. “Of course, you can always dance with someone else,” he said in a hushed tone. “Being paraded around always makes me a little nervous.” He smiled towards Clara with his hand still held out palm up towards her for if she decided to accept the dance.

Brom was more hesitant to make his way to his spot in the line, moving to stand beside the dark and sinister looking Thorne son. He thought about talking to the guy maybe even talking about all the attractive women at the ball but the guy looked like he had a royal stick up his uptight ass.

Instead he waited until an intriguing young blonde beauty came to stand before him. Brom began to smirk as he glanced her over. Maybe this wouldn’t be all bad if he got the opportunity to meet numerous beautiful young women just waiting for a dashing young man like himself to sweep them off their feet.

“Lady Vivienne… Right?” He held out his hand towards her as he bowed, but his gaze never left hers. His smirk only seeming to grow as he took in more and more of her beauty.

Gwen moved along with her brothers before she could even take a step she felt her mother’s hand on her shoulder. The Queen stepped up to whisper in her daughter’s ear, “Don’t you dare ask someone to dance.” Gwen looked out of the corner of her eye towards her mother. “You are a lady,” the Queen grasped her shoulders tight, “ladies do not do the asking. The gentlemen ask you to dance.”

After her mother let her go, Gwen slowly took her place in the line between two blonde girls. She gave them both her best attempt at a friendly smile as she waited. Her fingers toyed at the lace embroidery on her sleeves when a young blonde stepped in the line opposite her.

Feeling her mother’s gaze on the back of her head, Gwen took the skirt of her dress in her hands as she curtsied towards him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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JONATHAN CHAIMBERS
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Eldest Son | The Pawn
#9BC4E2 | Outfit
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FREDERICK CHAIMBERS
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Youngest Son | The Trickster
#96CDCD | Outfit
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VIVIENNE CHAIMBERS
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Only Daughter | The Weaver
#92CCA6 | Outfit


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Frederick made for the far wall, his intentions to grab as many flutes filled with champagne as he could and drink as much as he could. He could hear the capricious falsities, Lords and Ladies all huffing and puffing about themselves and their pretend interest in the others, the rumours he could hear circling were enough to make his head spin and not in the fun way alcohol did. The back table was his safe haven, away from the hushed whispers and polite lies, he grabbed his first glass of champagne and downed it without a seconds hesitation, flashing a smile at the serving girl as he handed her the flute back. "You've been here all of one minute." The familiar voice tutted as he spun to meet her gaze, loose strands of brunette shook with her head as she did so.
"Catalina? How did you get in here?" Frederick then grinned and put his hands on his hips. "This is a private party, am I rubbing off on you?"
"Don't be ridiculous, your mother got me in, apparently she thinks I was hired to your court to babysit you." Catalina's tone was far from kind and closer to mocking.
"Isn't it?" Frederick asked as he reached for his second glass.
"No, I am your court advisor. I advise you on important matters, by the gods, why do you think I am always telling you who is who and what to do in the court?" Catalina threw her hands up in exasperation, nearly knocking the champagne from his hand. "Your father hired me to make sure you didn't mess up the Southern Shores and to maintain our political friendships." Catalina then stormed off into the crowd as Frederick shrugged before downing the second glass, just as his brother finally caught up to him.

"Did you get lost in the crowd?" Frederick clapped his hand onto his brother's upper arm. "Here, have a drink." Frederick grabbed one of the flutes and handed it to him, but was politely declined. "Okay, more for me then, brother." He then lifted another and proceeded to knock it back, Jonathan gave him a less than impressed looked.
"Gods, how desperate are you for a drink." Frederick smirked before grabbing another and did the same simply to spite his brother. Jonathan merely rolled his eyes at how petty his brother was being. "Can you be normal for just one night? For Viv's sake?"
"Sure, no doubt she'll ruin it for herself, talk about one of her bizarre nightmares and then we'll all be sent home, no big deal." Jonathan looked as if he'd taken a hit from Frederick's words, but he simply grabbed another flute and went to drink it, not even showing any remorse for his words.

Jonathan snatched the five champagne glass from Frederick's hand, "She's our sister, how dare you?" Jonathan scolded the youngest, taking a sip from the champagne to show him how it was done. "Keep yourself out of trouble and do not come near me or Vivienne tonight." Frederick merely rolled his eyes as he pinched a grape from one of the platters.
"Oh dear Father's pet, you are a good guard dog." Frederick clapped his hand against his brother's back three times with a large grin on his face, the intended joke being far more offensive than he clearly meant it.
"How you're mother's favourite still astounds me to this day." Jonathan set the crystal flute back on the table and was swallowed back up by the crowd, leaving Frederick to his champagne.

Finally being left alone to the table, Frederick turned to have another but then the royal children were announced and he was forced away from the very table he intended to spend most of his night. He leaned up against a pillar, his expression and composure revealing his lack of interest in the well rehearsed speech. The announcement of the speech even garnering an eye roll as he pushed off from the pillar and made for the floor. He positioned himself next to Jonah, the Northern Lord, dark of hair and only slightly lighter of skin tone, he gave him a polite wave, he had no doubt Jonah and Jonathan had dealt with each other at least once but Frederick had never had to pleasure. He looked across and spotted a woman the complete opposite in description, her hair was like spun silver and her skin just as fair, her eyes weren't a dull brown but instead an enticing blend of blue and gold. Her features were so delicate and innocent, Frederick almost felt bad that her first dance would be with him. "Lady Aurora, may I have this dance?" He bowed and stretched his hand out towards her as he did so.

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Whilst navigating the crowd, Jonathan occasionally paused as each of the families were announced and greeted, watching them and making a note of the faces as the names were called. He eventually caught sight of Vivienne as he navigated through the crowd, she was stood with some courtiers, playing her little game, no doubt. As he made for her, there was a loud horn announcing the presentation of the royal children. He found himself bowing with the rest of the ballroom, whilst watching the children descend the steps. Before he could continue towards his sister, the King and Queen took to the floor to announce a dance, before inviting all the intended to step forth and form a line, when Jonathan looked back to find his sister she had already made for the floor. So he opted for simply falling in line with the other young lords.

Jonathan took his position in between Howell and Benjy, both the Daverny sons, the presence of the two making him uncomfortable, as if he were about to be jumped and mugged. He didn't usually harbour such stereotypical feelings, he spent a lot of time in the Southern Shores, he was used to their presence. He then watched as the woman lined up before them, his mind clicked then, he wasn't wary of the Davernys, he was simply nervous about the dance and was projecting it onto whatever presence was most familiar, he would have chuckled to himself if he wasn't surrounded by such watchful eyes so simply smiled at the lady before him.

Her blonde hair held up by golden pins adorned with pearls and her dress matched their colours, a lovely golden trim with a pearl fabric being the most present. He observed her features, his inner artist taking in the subtle details. Her beauty was subtle, the pallor of her skin, which revealed why they called her the Swan Princess, simply accentuating the shadows around her eyes and the beauty mark just slightly above her lip, and the indent to the left of her lip, noticeable only by the faint shadow.

He smiled at her before bowing, "Lady Cavalier, may I have this dance?" As he bowed, he stretched out his hand for her to take, waiting patiently with a smile on his face. "Although, please do not vomit on me." His jest was meant to tease and not offend, indicated simply by his playful smile and soft tone.

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Vivienne blended in with a group of courtiers, they were at the court often enough to get enough information about the other families, they mainly gossiped about the families, including the Chaimbers, making Vivienne chuckle at their ignorance and herself for believing they would be of any use to her. She remained with them, however, saving herself from being a social pariah and being seen at the ball sitting looking out the window at the garden. As luck would have it, she wouldn't be with them for very long as the royal children finally presented themselves. Vivienne curtsied as they descended the stairs, she listened with a smile on her face at the announcement of a dance, before the Queen had even finished she made her way to the floor, paying little attention to where she stood.

Vivienne smoothed out her dress as she awaited her partner to appear, if it was her first time playing the game that is court intrigue she would have fiddled with her hair and even ensured the placement of her jewellery was just right, but then she would have revealed herself from behind her mask. As she ran her hands down the fabric one last time, she heard a strong, somewhat charming voice address her. “Lady Vivienne… Right?” She looked up from her dress to see him, his golden mane cushioning a silver crown, whilst simultaneously curtaining his strong jaw and proud cheekbones. His hazel eyes nestled in the sockets above taking on a more cobalt blue colour, the same eyes that locked with her deep blue ones as he bowed, she took his hand and curtsied, low enough to be at the same level. "Prince Castillon." She smiled at his smirk, his eyes never breaking from hers except to blink. "One might be considered about that grin, particularly if one is to believe the rumours around these very halls." The tone of her voice soft and sweet, with no intended malice, and her smile the same.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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JONAH ALLYRION
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Eldest Child | The Winter's Wolf
#E80000 | Outfit
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CLARA ALLYRION
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Only Daughter | The Winter's Child
#388E8E | Outfit


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Clara rang the fabric of her dress as they waited for the Princes, and the Princess to arrive. She looked around the room and saw that not just a few families were here but ALL of the families were her. Everyone in the Cradle was present, even the Davernys to whom Jonah always called pirates, even if they technically weren't since The King hadn't issued a mandate saying that what they did was illegal. Of course, she couldn't tell Jonah that because he'd still call them pirates. They were privateers if anything. She took a breath, looked at all of the beautiful girls, most of them with brilliant yellow hair, and while hers was a deep midnight black, she seemed to be the only one. She looked around again, besides the Throne daughter....Sylva? If Clara remembered correctly. While, no one had her dark curls, golden amber eyes, and warm skin, she still felt unimpressive and to make matters worse, she wasn't healthy either. "Now, Songbird, try to relax." Jonah said, obviously noting her nervous habit. She dropped the bit of fabric and closed her hands. "What if I cough?" She muttered to him, trying not to move her lips much. On the ride, Mother told her to try to at least appear healthy, she didn't want any of the other girls to know how ill she was, or the Prince for that matter. Though Clara knew she wouldn't make a good wife because of her illness, Mother didn't want anyone to know that. "You only do that in the cold and it's summer here," Jonah said in the same hushed tone. "Besides, Their winters are our summers, you'll be fine."
He assured her just before the herald blew his horn.
”My Lords, My Ladies, It is my honor to present to you the royal children of the family Castillon.”
Just then, arms locked the Princes and the Princess walked out. Clara swallowed, feeling small and out of place, while Jonah gaped like a fool at the Princess. Clara was about to elbow him but she stopped as they were introduced.
”Eldest son to the King and Queen, heir to the Blackvale Rhaegar, his twin brother, Prince and King’s Guard Brom and their sister Gwendolynn.”

Clara's eyes went to the focus of this party, Prince Rhaegar. He was handsome, looked strong and he had a kindness in his eyes. She felt a little at ease for a moment and then thought. Right now, she looked like the picture of health, something she was very not, she knew all too well, looks could be deceiving.

Cursing her pragmatism, she took a breath, she could feel the rawness of an incoming cough in the back of her throat. If she could get some water, or perhaps fresh air...or better yet, out of this freezing corset, she'd felt better.

It was then that that King Magnus stood, and a hush fell over the crowd.
“I would like to thank you all for making the long journey to the Black Keep. We are pleased to accept you all into our home for the summer. Although our time together is to hopefully make new alliances and marriages between our children it is also a chance for us all to get a chance to know each other and create new friendships where we previously wouldn’t have the opportunity. So I’d like you all to make yourselves at home and please do enjoy yourselves.”
He said and Jonah twitched beside her. He turned to their mother, who Clara forgot was behind them this entire time, only to get swatting and shushed. Jonah turned back as the Queen stood. "I suppose I'm not the only one to be wedded this season, Am I, Brother?"
"Don't you start..."Jonah replied only from them both to receive sharp shushes from their mother. Clara merely smiled but it faded when the Queen began to speak.


“In celebration of the beginning of this great summer and new friends, we invite all of our children in the dance of the Blackvale.” 
Clara's eyes went wide as the Castillion children were gestured to the middle of the ballroom floor. She looked at her brother, who was the one smiling now. He had the princess in his sights, and probably was looking forward to dancing with all of the women. Clara did not want to dance with anyone.

"Clara...You'll be fine, you've done this dance a million times." Jonah told her, casting a glance at Mother but since he was consoling her, Mother said nothing. Father was as stoic and watching as always.

Clara merely nodded. She had done this dance, but it had only been with Jonah and the first few times, she'd broken into a horrible coughing fit. It was the middle of winter though so if Jonah was right, that shouldn't be a problem.

Clara merely sighed as the Queen continued.
“The dance is simple. Our strapping young men will line up across from the beautiful young ladies. They share a dance with the woman across from them and when the song changes you switch partners. The dance is over when you’ve danced with every young man or woman.” She instructed and Clara looked around. Every young man? Would she have to truly dance with every man here? Clara felt herself beginning to panic. She took a few deep breaths, and a cough tried to surface but she held it back as best she could. Jonah gave her an appraising look and she nodded. One of their many wordless conversations that usually only happened whenever he was worried about her but didn't want to worry Mother.

"Go on." Their mother told them as the others began to line up, and Jonah gave Clara a smile, and a nod before separating from her and moving to the opposite line.
She moved to the line and didn't make any move to assert herself. She was never a sociable person, quite the opposite so she hung back, hoping to be passed up.

Instead, the Prince, the heir no less, came forward, his eyes on her, and her olive cheeks flushed red. She looked around her and behind because surely he wasn't after tiny little Clara but no, he reached out for her, taking her hand and guiding her in front of him. Her eyes were wide. She knew it, she felt it them staring wild at him.

“Apologizes, but I think I could handle this evening better having the first dance with a familiar face.” He said and she blinked, her face no longer frozen like a deer. "Familiar?" She muttered but he didn't hear her, not over the music and her voice was always soft, raising it would cause her to cough and no one needed that. He bowed to her and she fumbled a curtsy that she knew her mother would keel over and die if she saw. Clara glanced and either her mother didn't see it, or she was holding her reaction until later.

“Of course, you can always dance with someone else,” He told her and she smiled, albeit a bit awkwardly and shook her head, missing that he had offered his hand and since he was not Jonah, he wouldn't know that she merely meant that was fine and not that she was declining the offer.
 “Being paraded around always makes me a little nervous.”
He said and offered a smile that eased her tension. She laughed before placing her hand in his. "It's alright, Your Grace, I understand better than you think." she said and chuckled. "I must admit, I must have been very small, the last we met, I fear I don't remember you, I know of you, but no memories of my own, I'm afraid." She said, knowing that she probably shouldn't be that honest but being bedridden for so many years, cut off from people, she didn't have many of the social graces most people developed, she spoke her mind far too much most of the time.
"When last were you in the North?" She asked, as the music picked up, and she allowed him to lead her as Jonah would have.
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Jonah having left Clara on the other side of the line, watched as the men chose their partners. To his surprise, Rhaegar went straight for Clara, and soon enough she was smiling. That was a good sign...he hoped. Clara could be rather despondent so for someone other than him to get her to smile was something he was glad for. Turning his attention from his little sister, he eyed the women. They were all so lovely but who to choose? His first thought was for the Princess but he didn't want to be so forward, she was the Princess, after all, surely she would not be dancing alone and besides, he would have wanted to make a good impression and he noticed that eagerness was not exactly charming in the eyes of women, at least not in the women he came across.

Then his eye caught sight of the eldest Greyson. She looked formidable. She would be a challenge. He could see it in her eyes. Sweet words would not do for a woman like her, she had a light in her eyes that was all too familiar but whose they belonged to, he did not know. She was tall, carried herself like a fighter, being one himself, he knew it when he saw it. Jonah smirked. He made his choice.

He sauntered up to her. "My Lady Rosalyn."He said, hoping to the Gods that he did not confuse her for one of her sisters. Mother made he and Clara memorize the names of the children from the families, and while he'd heard them being introduced, he wasn't entirely confident in his memory of them to be sure. All of them were blonde, but this one was tall, unlike her sisters. When she didn't correct him on her name, he assumed he guessed right. He gave her his wolfish grin and bowed gracefully. "Magnus Allyrion, but please do call me, Jonah, might I have the honor of your first dance" He asked, using his charm in his expression as oppose to his words as he offered her his hand.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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LARA CAVALIER
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Eldest Child | The White Frog, Swan Princess
#A8C5EA | Outfit


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Lara eventually and painfully her attention away from the Davernys who had just entered the ballroom to watch the Castillon siblings be flaunted to their company. Her gaze fixated on the to-be king in silent resignation, as she saw no reason to shy away from observing the Blackvale's most wanted bachelor. He knew they wanted him and was probably ignoring the stares, including her own. Ah, no, there could be no staring. Only coy glances. Despite this Lara stared still before raising one eyebrow and busying herself by looking inconspicuously around the ballroom, whistling inside of her head. At least he seems easy to fall in love with, she reassured herself despite being a little disappointed at the lack of "love at first sight". Sure, such a thing was unrealistic, but was she forbidden from dreaming? At the same time, she was relieved to not have been poisoned with mushy love-sickness despite how it would've made things easier. Feeling ill, she distracted herself by looking up at the ceiling and entertaining a small, unusual thought.

"What is running through your mind..." James whispered to her as the Queen called for a dance, "... Frog?"

Lara didn't want to divulge that the only thing "running" through her mind since arriving had been her tiny subconscious screaming "I'm doooooooooooomed", and she especially didn't want to explain that she had just been speculating what it meant to relate oneself to a wall, a floor or a ceiling so instead, she lied.

"I'm going to have to fight them," she said suddenly, like the epiphany had just hit her. "I see no other way to win. I must tie soap to the Prince's shoes so when they chase, they fall and break their necks." She swiped up a goblet of red wine from a passing platter and held it up high in a toast. "Here's to the Prince going down with them so they can call this entire mistake off." She shielded her face from the crowds as she chugged the entire thing down, her father watching on disapprovingly.

"Not so loud. Such loose talk can be interpreted as treason," he shushed then frowned when she didn't repent immediately and instead muttered something about the wine being strong stuff. "You cannot be se-"

Lara shot him a dark sideways look. "I'm deadly serious," she uttered. Barely a moment passed before her hardened features relaxed into a little amused smile. "Of course not, anyone could have heard me. I'll have to think of something else now." Her eyes trailed up to the magnificent chandeliers adorning the ceiling, mischief in her eyes as she remembered her daydream from earlier. She gestured up at them suggestively with a nod as she swapped out her empty cup for a full one.

"Battle plans for a ball are thoroughly unnecessary."

"This is a battlefield. All the women secretly try to knock competition off the dance floor. That, is why they make our skirts so ridiculous." She swooshed her excessive skirts around her to prove a point then hurriedly sipped at her wine when it threatened to leap from the cup. James watched her gravely and she walked back to him sheepishly. "I only make jests, Father. I'm going to be fine. My skirt could shroud a bear, I can't possibly lose."

"There's no shame in retreating to the gardens once you've had enough, but you will go no further." Lara smiled gratefully, despite knowing he was basically telling her not to run away. "Be careful."

She curtsied. "I just won't say anything." Interesting.

With that she bustled over to one of the final places in the line. Despite all her attempts at humour, her mood hadn't improved and unease settled like dust on her tongue. It was then that she realised she had claimed her place between two Davernys, the sons of the house she had been watching with as much excitement as a boy seeing his first jousting match. Her eyes darted between the two almost half expecting them to pull out cutlasses and take the entire castle hostage... and the King to reveal that they were all kidnapped and had to take part in some blood sport for his children's favour in which her soap trick proved victorious but alas, such fantasies existed only in her head. The daydreaming young woman almost forgot that she had a dance partner of her own in front of her before he spoke.

"Lady Cavalier, may I have this dance?" Her attention was stolen by the dark-haired man bowing before her. She tilted her head only slightly as she peered at him, her face crinkling with curiosity at who the man could be. She concluded that he had a handsome face - was there anyone in the court who didn't - that while plain in comparison to some of the nobleman, was littered with enough tiny imperfections to be interesting to her, such as the small brown dot beneath his right eye. She felt that if she were to look away for a moment then return her gaze to him, she would discover some new crease or shadow to color him with. If he were a treasure chest, she thought unabashedly, he would be made of pine and leather, and hold old papers inside. Probably of something boring, like a merchant's accounts.

"Although, please do not vomit on me."

What a gentleman. Lara shut the metaphorical chest in front with a snap. Of course, she already knew this was going to happen. A look at the man's face told her this was a lighthearted jest that under usual circumstances Lara would laugh at however this time it felt as though her heart had been shot, merely because she had failed in enacting her plan of being openly self-deprecating before anybody could tease her. Being the only noblewoman present to have been sick on the groom on her wedding day certainly took her down from a six to a two in terms of desirability. Her eyes trailed down guiltily to the goblet she had forgotten was still in her hand. A servant was already hurrying over to assist her and she quickly took a final drink before solemnly passing it over. She looked down at her partner and placed her slim yet surprisingly calloused hand in his.

"It would be my honor," she said with a polite smile, "Lord Chaimbers." She ticked over what she just said and quickly added on, "To dance with you. And to not vomit on you, I suppose. I'm sorry my reputation has you concerned." After all, if the story had made it to as far as the West, it had to pass through, somehow... that blob of land being the Vale, home of the Castillons themselves. After that stumble she stopped talking and let him lead her into the opening bars of the music. After watching the other dancers begin to talk she looked up at the man - who was either Jonathan or Frederick, she could not recall which of these names belonged to the eldest Chaimbers son - and her eyes narrowed, the way they always did when she was about to ask a question. "Forgive me for asking, my Lord, but from whom did you hear of that story?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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AVERY THATCHER
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Eldest Son | The Armadillo
#FF4500 | Outfit
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ELLIOT THATCHER
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Youngest Son | The Casanova
#551A8B | Outfit
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ILENE THATCHER
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Only Daughter | The Thorny Rose
#CD1076 | Outfit

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Avery glanced around at the families gathered after their introduction and realized that almost all of the families had arrived. There were the Thornes, Graysons, Allyrions, Chambers, and the Cavaliers. Had his own family been the last to arrive? How long had the other families been waiting? He thought they had made relatively good time. And then he heard the door as another family was announced. Ah, the Daverny. How could he forget the strange and yet intriguing Daverny? He didn't often hear their name or hear about them really. He supposed it was nice that at least he could finally put more faces to the names rolling around in his head. The Davernys' dress was intriguing to say the least. He wondered what they had seen of the world. By far he was sure they were the most world savvy. He was itching to ask them about the different places they must have visited. What were the Misty Isles like anyway?

"Do you see anyone you fancy, brother?" Elliot asked as he too scanned the room for someone of interest, breaking Avery's wanderlust pondering.

"Not really. I mean I would like to speak to Clara of the Allyrion family. I haven't heard much about her. It would be fun to talk to Marriane of the Daverny. I am sure she would offer by far the most intriguing conversations. She doesn't look like so many of the other women, concerned with dress and primping."

"You do realize I am standing right beside you," Ilene asked with an eyebrow raised. "I am a lady, concerned with dress and pimping."

"You don't count,"

"You don't count,"[/color Avery and Elliot answered her in unison. Avery gave her a smile then. [color=#FF4500]"You are our sister and I know you have more on your mind that snatching a prince," he answered. "I doubt most of them want to even associate with us since we don't wear crowns. How about the two of you, any fancy?"

Ilene shrugged idly. "Not sure yet. They are all fetching," she answered but like her brother, she was far more interested in their personality, rather than appearance.

"You two are a bore," Elliot answered. "I would personally love a tumble with Howell or Jonah. And Johnathan is a cutie. There is a subtle look I like about him."

"Please behave yourself," Ilene implored. "If you do anything here, it will go beyond reprimand by our parents hand. I'd rather have you sullen and sulky then beheaded for a misunderstanding," she warned.

"Relax! I am not going to be stupid," he reassured. He'd watch, test the waters. He liked his head where it was to.

The three siblings were brought out of their revere when the royal family finally introduced their children. The family, like all the others, bowed and curtsied as was proper. Avery was about to pull his gaze away when he caught sight of the princess. He couldn't help but give a double take. He had never seen a beauty like hers. He had no love of the power mongering and originally, had no interest in her but to see her in the flesh... she was truly the most beautiful person in the room. Then again, it was just her physical appearance. What was behind those polished jewels and political smile? He didn't want another girl in his life that only cared about events such as these and looking 'pretty'. He was far more interested in learning more about her on a personal level, gauge who she was as a person. He shook his head to himself. This was all politics. She wouldn't tell the truth. Then again... he would try and find a way to ask her for a dance before the night was out. Or maybe... maybe not. He wanted to distance himself from the fight that would no doubt ensue. Maybe he'd find a way to talk to her another way. He didn't want her to think he was like everyone else, even if he did decide to pursue her in any manner.

"You are oogling," Ilene tsked though she was trying not to smirk. She was honestly surprised how instantly taken her older brother was with the princess.

Avery flushed and brought his gaze down. He was already figure out how he wanted to talk to Gwen when the queen announced the dancing. They had to dance with every lord and lady, respectively? That was good and bad, he supposed. He didn't really want to dance with everyone but it would hopefully make the evening go by faster. People were already lining up.

"Careful to keep your gaze on the woman you are dancing with," Ilene teased Avery with a subtle bump on his hip.

"I know, I know," Avery answered. "Let's go get in line."

Elliot led the way to the line with Ilene close behind. While Avery moved down the line, Ilene ended up standing beside the princess and offered her a smile when the princess looked her way. "Hello, your highness," she greeted politely. She looked forward, assuming that Elliot was going to try and dance with her first so he could gossip about the lords he wished he was dancing with. When Elliot instead stood in front of Gwen, her eyebrows reached for her hairline. What was her silly little brother up to?

Elliot himself was indeed up to something. He may not be looking for a love relationship this summer, but having friends in other families was always a bonus. You never knew what could happen in the future. He had looked over the ladies available and quickly took up his place in front of none other than the princess. He figured she would appreciate her first dance being with someone who wasn't after her hand in marriage. And considering the whispering he heard between Ilene and Avery, he'd realize that Avery was smitten with her. Maybe he could see if her personality would match up with his brother. All teasing aside, he loved his siblings dearly and he wanted for them the happiness they deserved. He had far more freedom than they did. And he was blessed with being able to take risks without too much consequence or fear. Well, time to put his neck out there. This could end badly but you didn't get anywhere without risk.

He gave Gwen a flourishing bow as she curtsied for him and took her hand to kiss her knuckles in the most charming way he could and gave her a smile. "Good eve, my princess. I was hoping you'd do me the honor of being your first partner in the long series of dances we are about to undertake," he said. He stepped just a little closer to bring his voice down as he added, "I am not after your hand, or your honor, do not fret about that. Just a friend to dance with," He offered her a smile and a playful wink. "If men were compasses pointing north, my compass lies south, if you take my meaning."


Avery was a bit surprised that his brother had gone to ask the princess for a dance. What was he playing at? He didn't have long to dwell on that however. He turned his attention to the available ladies and his eyes settled on one of the Grayson daughters. He took a moment running through the names before he figured out who she was. The second eldest if he wasn't mistaken.

He moved to stand opposite her and gave her a pleasant bow and kissed her knuckles just as his brother did to Gwen. "Lady Seraphina, would you mind terribly honoring me with your first dance?" he asked and offered her his hand, head still slightly bowed to show his consideration to her choice.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne Character Portrait: Jonah Allyrion Character Portrait: Rosalyn Grayson
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ROSALYN GRAYSON
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King's Bastard | The Red Rose
#660033 | Outfit
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SERAPHINA GRAYSON
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Eldest True Grayson | The Sweet Pea
#C19A6B | Outfit
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SYLVA THORNE
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Sylas' Twin | The Cobra
#583668 | Outfit
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AURORA GRAYSON
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Youngest Grayson | The Little Petal
#87758F | Outfit


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Sylva was accompanied to the table filled with alcohol by her brother and tried to stop herself from gagging at his flirty antics with the peasant girl. She knew it was all for an act, thus she kept herself calm. She took her flute of champagne from him and sipped it as he lead her to the large windows framing the ballroom. “Now what could have the mighty Magnus so tense, I wonder?” Sylas asked and Sylva looked over to see the shift in the King’s face when the fair skin, fair haired women walked into the room with Lord Robert. “Yes, I wonder. Quite peculiar.”

The contents of Sylva’s champagne glass drained as more and more families entered the ballroom and were introduced to the king and queen. Primped and pompous girls all ripe for the picking and dashing young gentlemen ready to pluck them. All this meeting truly was, was a discussed marriage market for families to auction their children off to the best suitors. It made her scoff.

Of course, her tyranny of hateful thoughts was soon put away by the presence of a man… A servant. “My Lord.” He greeted her brother. Sylva raised her brow in curiosity. “Ah. Maxwell. This is my lovely sister Sylva.” Sylas introduced her. “A pleasure my Lady.” The inferior boy replied. Sylva almost snorted. Her brother had a way to him that he could make anyone beneath them bend to his will by whatever means possible. She wondered what it was that this poor fellow was falling for. “Another play thing brother? I’m surprised its not a woman this time.” She chuckled to Sylas. The boy looked a little squeamish around her presence. Of course she was good at acting as well but she saw no point in being charming to this slave. She almost laughed out loud when he averted his eyes from her gaze.

“I have taken care of your rooms, my Lord. The adjacent chambers have a shared door so that you make travel between the two without notice.” The boy said quietly to her brother. Sylva raised her brow. He was useful after all. As her brother slipped coins into the boys pocket she realized that money was the reason this one was staying around. She was well assured her brother would take care of that, so she didn’t bother with it.

Her attention was taken then, by the grand entrance of the royal brats that would take over all of the kingdom. She did admit they cleaned up well. The sons, Rhaegar and Brom as she remembered, looked similar but yet all too different. The only other twins present other than her and Sylas. Of course, they could never share the bond they did. Sylva could read Sylas like a book and he to her as well. The Princess was also fairly attractive and she was sure that she would have a husband by the end of the summer… Unless the Thornes had something to do with it.

Sylva looked at her brother and rolled her eyes. “If you stare any longer drool may fall from your lips dear brother.” She whispered to him and then looked away to listen to the introductions and speech from the King and Queen. When the dance was announced she sighed in unison with her brother. Stuck up socialites loved things like this. The kids all got their “fun” introductions, and the parents got to watch and gossip from the sidelines. Just lovely.

She followed Sylas’ lead and let him place her between two ditzy blonde looking girls. She would have rather thrown them off a cliff then be doing this dance charade, but she followed suit. Her eyes watched as her brother introduced himself to the pirates daughter and just her luck, she was soon standing across from the youngest. He smelt like alcohol and she wondered if he even knew what a bathtub was.

“Lord Daverny.” She introduced and offered her hand to him like any normal lady would. Its not like she wanted him to touch her, but she didn’t have much of an option.

***


After a tense greeting between Lady Elizabeth and the King and Queen, followed by light banter by Lord Robert and curtsies, Rosalyn ushered her mother away, followed by her father and two sisters. They found solace by the refreshments and Rosalyn was quick to get a glass of wine in her mothers hands. Of course Elizabeth wasn’t much of a drinker, but tonight was one of the few times alcohol was much needed.

Seraphina gushed to her father about the ballroom and lovely it would be when she moved in. “Me and the Prince will dance the night away in here, and when we rule over the Kingdom, we will throw our own parties in this very room. And I will wear the most gorgeous dresses!” She giggled and clung to her fathers arm. “Of course Sweetpea.” He replied and laughed at her antics, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “With that much ambition I am sure you will sweep that Prince straight off his feet.” Seraphina smirked. She would do so much more than that. She would beat every girl in this room at the honour of being the Prince’s wife or she would die trying. Seraphina began to look around at all the other girls. Her competition. She needed to come up with a good strategy to obliterate them all. Was obliterate too harsh of a word? Of course not. This was war.

The youngest of the Grayson’s wasn’t paying much attention to the people or the fancy decor, as per usual. Rather, she was staring out the windows mystified by the gorgeous sunset and slowly darkening sky. She heard that there was many more stars in the sky over Blackvale then in the Riverlands. Plus, being more northern there was the chance of seeing the night sky lights. Aurora was just dreaming about them when she was snapped back to reality by Seraphina.

“Would you pay attention! They are about to announce my future husband. Your future brother in law. When you meet him, make sure to say lots of great things about me!” Seraphina hissed and Aurora just laughed. Her sister was always looking out to climb the social ladders, and while that was fine, Aurora much preferred to enjoy her life with the people around her.

”My Lords. My Ladies. It is my honor to present to you the royal children of the family Castillon.” A servant called to the crowd and out stepped the royal children. Seraphina almost squealed in delight. Of course it didn’t matter if the Prince was handsome or not, but damn she was lucky that he was. Golden hair like her own, cut short, tall, muscular. She was what any little girl dreamed of as a prince charming. Seraphina turned to Aurora, “You were right, he is handsome!”

Aurora nodded slowly as she stared at the man. This Prince was the one to become King? A big grin broke out on her face and she clapped slowly along with the others who did. It wasn’t her decision who became the King, and the Royal family did not need her approval, but Aurora certainly looked forward to this Prince. Unlike most nobles and court folk she had met in her past, this man had kind eyes. That was a good enough sign for her.

Rosalyn, on the other hand, had a stoic expression as she looked at the Royal children. They were all quite attractive, yes, but it was more than that. Her hand came up to rest on her face as she looked at them. She shared the same jawbone as the girl, Gwendolynn, and the same strawberry blonde hair as the boys. Of course, this would not be noticeable by most, but knowing what she did… she could tell. These were truly her siblings. She tried to keep her composure and her mothers hand came to rest on her arm, knowing how she felt. Rosalyn’s eyes sharpened when the King and Queen came forward and Rosalyn just dreamed of sticking an arrow in each of their eyes.

“Deep breaths.” Her mother whispered, and Rosalyn closed her eyes and sighed. She just had to keep herself together.

***


Seraphina was thrilled by the prospect of the dance and Aurora, who was surprisingly graceful, was rather excited too. They hadn’t danced at such a large event in a long time. Seraphina was the first to run off, wanting to find the prince as soon as possible to get her best impression in. The sooner the better. She was sorely disappointed when he quickly scooped up a girl with darker features. Now what? She huffed and formed into the circle quickly, beside another blonde girl and a very scary looking girl she believed came from the Dark Woods. Creepy folk.

It wasn’t long before a man with golden hair and pretty eyes walked up to her. Lord Avery Thatcher if she was correct. He bowed in front of her and took her hand, kissing her knuckles softly as he did. "Lady Seraphina, would you mind terribly honoring me with your first dance?” She could tell she was by far his first choice, and like most men here she assumed he was aiming towards the princess. She could understand. At least he had gotten her name correctly. She often got her names mixed with Rosalyn.

“Lord Avery, your first dance should be with none other than someone so beautiful as myself. You should be honoured.” She said, half in jest and half serious. The smirk on her face should tell him of her humour. She waited until he stood and got into position with him. When the music began she let him take lead.

***


Aurora looked at Rosalyn with shining eyes. “Can I…?” Rosalyn’s stress faded away just by the exuberant look on the girls face. “Of course you can, go on now.” She laughed. As if her sister needed her permission at all, she was just being courteous. The girl was always looking out for everyone else when she should have just been having a good time.

Rosalyn watched as Aurora got scooped up by a young Lord and asked to dance. It was good to see Aurora with other people, she could be a social butterfly in the right situations. Sometimes she worried about the girl when they were at home. She didn’t have very many true friends and she spent most of her time daydreaming or socializing with the peasants in the Riverlands.

Lady Elizabeth looked at Rosalyn and raised a brow. “Will you not be joining the dances?”

Rosalyn frowned. “I’m not sure dancing is for me, Mother.”

“What are you talking about, you love dancing… And you always excelled at anything physical.” Elizabeth smiled. “You should try and take small pleasures in things while you can. This summer will be far too tasking otherwise. Besides, I dont think you have a choice in the matter.” She gestured forward to where a dark skinned boy was sauntering forward towards her. Lord Jonah.

He was handsome, yes, but looks never swayed her. Unlike most people here, she was not looking for a romantic venture, but she could tell when someone was attractive. She did have eyes after all. From the looks of it, he found her interesting enough to dance with too. Rosalyn just hoped he wasn’t too boring or pompous, otherwise she would be tempted to knock him on his ass.

"My Lady Rosalyn." He smiled to her. Thankfully he had gotten her name right. Her and Seraphina were so often confused. It was harder to confuse Aurora, as she was the one with blatantly silver hair.
"Magnus Allyrion, but please do call me, Jonah, might I have the honor of your first dance.” His face was a mix of coy charm, but Rosalyn detected something of a smirk under that facade.

“If we must.” She replied and followed him into the circle. She hummed and raised a brow at him. He didn’t seem daft at least. “From the looks of you, you are a soldier. Most soldiers aren’t graceful, so if you are too afraid of stepping on my feet I could always lead you.” She smirked and got herself into position to dance. The least she could do was try and have fun with this. Like her mother said, she would need some distractions from the hell blazing around her.

***


Aurora was rather happy she could dance again. Out of all her sisters she was the best dancer. Of course they were good as well, but Seraphina danced too loosely, Rosalyn too strictly. Aurora liked to make dances her own; she was light on her feet and graceful. Rather than thinking about the social part of it all, Aurora was just excited to move to the music.

Just as she got into formation a boy came up to her and bowed before her, stretching out his hand.
"Lady Aurora, may I have this dance?” He asked. From the blonde hair, blue eyes and clothes he wore she could tell he was a Westerner, meaning he was a Chaimbers.

“Of course you may Lord Frederick James Chaimbers.” She grinned, saying his full name. “There is no need to bow though my Lord, I am not that special.” She laughed and when she stood up, Aurora sniffed the air and laughed more. “You smell of alcohol.”

Aurora had the curse of being brutally honest. She usually said most things that came to her mind if they were interesting enough. Of course this habit seemed to her her in trouble more times then not.

“I have never drank before. Is it fun?” She asked as she prepared herself to dance with him and the music slowly began.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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MARYNN DAVERNY
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Only Daughter | The Quarter Master
#567580 | Outfit
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BENJY DAVERNY
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Youngest Child | The First Mate
#5BA664 | Outfit
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HOWELL DAVERNY
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Eldest Son | The Swordsman
#DEAD83 | Outfit


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”It is my honor to present to you the royal children of the family Castillon.” All the attention in the room seemed to shift to the Castillons in an instant. And for that, the Daverny children were most grateful. Following the steps that were taken by the rest of the families, the three of them turned their attentions to the princes and princess. They looked as noble as their titles proclaimed to be, but if one were to look hard enough they would see the difference. Varying degree's of reluctance, but also, a great amount of strength within each of them. Marynn did not linger her gaze on any one of them, instead, taking in the room as a whole.

Her brothers - well, they were much more interested. Howell never wavered his gaze from the Princess, seemingly contemplative. Of course, Benjy's stare was more lustful than appreciative. He didn't often go for powerful women, they were much harder to bed let alone engage in conversation. But he thought he could make an exception for a princess.

As soon as that spectacle was over the Queen began to speak, drawing Marynns attention back. Howell already listening with rapt attention, but losing Benjy in the process. He instead began to survey, just as Marynn had done earlier but his focus landed mostly on the women of the room, Trying to get a lay of the land before he attempted to speak with any of them. These weren't the ditzy women that walked the shanties, no, these women were sophisticated. More's the pity - he'll have to work for his dues here.

“In celebration of the beginning of this great summer and new friends, we invite all of our children in the dance of the Blackvale.” As the Queen motioned to her children, Marynn realizes that she had been holding her breath. “The dance is simple,” she launches into an explanation, even though the two eldest Davernys think it's probably simple enough to figure out for themselves. Dances aren't usually that intricate. “Our strapping young men will line up across from the beautiful young ladies. They share a dance with the woman across from them and when the song changes you switch partners. The dance is over when you’ve danced with every young man or woman.”

They had known this was coming, but so soon after introductions? Marynn glanced between her brothers with mild desperation. At least at some point, she'll be able to take a rest by dancing with them. That at least should cut out a bit of the anxiety crawling up her gut. But before she could even manage to voice her issues their mother appeared by their side. While she spoke to the boys, her eyes lingered on Marynn with the usual amount of malice.

"None of you will cause a scene, understand?" They did, more so than Lady Elena could ever believe them. Benjy, the most likely to do something wrong nodded despite his devious grin. "Of course mother," He answered, too polite to be anything but deception. Howell scowls and Marynn tries not to let her nervousness show in her small chuckle.

"Good, we want to make a good impression here," Elena took a moment to look at the already forming dance partners. "Now hurry along." Fully dismissed, the boys went along their merry way. But Marynn was stopped momentarily as Hector appeared, a drink in hand - why did he get to drown his suffering in alcohol while she had to be completely sober.

"Marynn dear, do try not to castrate any of them." Hector spoke between a laugh and a wink, "If any of them have anything to Castrate that is." While Elena was not amused, she said nothing as Marynn shared the laugh. "I'll try not to." She's grateful for his attempt to make light of the situation. A bit of the nervousness ebbing away as she regains her strength of mind. She would not let something so small as a dance bring out any weakness in her. She is a Daverny, and Davernys are as strong as they come.

Deciding that she'd best line up now before she is left behind - as much as she would like that - she steps in, just barely straightening herself out before one of the Thornes is stepping in front of her. Sylas, she thinks is his name, only memorable because of who the Thorne's are. She can't exactly deny how handsome he is, but that doesn't mean she is exactly grateful to be dancing with him - in fact, she'd much rather not dance at all. He'd soon find out just how big of a mistake choosing her as his first dance partner would be.

He bows and offers his right hand. "Ms. Daverny," He says, and she tries not to balk. Her dress nearly trips her up as she curtsies once more, glad that she has yet to fall flat on her face. The damned sleeves get in the way as she offers her hand, hoping that her light hold doesn't show too much of her reluctance.

"Lord Thorne," She nods, tone light but not without its usual edge of misguided sourness. "Calling me Marynn is alright, or Mary if you prefer informalities." She tries her best to muster a smile that her mother would be proud of (ugh) without it seeming too fake, "I should warn that I am not very good at dancing."

~*~

Benjy had hoped to swoop in and steal a dance with the Princess, but it looked like someone had already beat him there. However, he was unconcerned with his bad luck and chose instead to just line up nearby his sister. Soon joined by an intense brunette who didn't exactly seem thrilled. Benjy doesn't fancy himself women like her, she reminds him too much of his own mother with the intensity of her gaze and the strength nod doubt hiding behind her formal attire. But, non-the-less she is beautiful and he would be a fool not to want to dance with her.

“Lord Daverny.” Even her tone of voice is strong. He grins, bowing as he is supposed to and takes her hand kindly. "Lady Thorne, I must say that you are very beautiful." Somehow, he knows that his usual lines won't work on a lady such as herself. But, he didn't feel like working for it either. They would dance, and perhaps converse a bit, and then he would be off to the next. Hopefully, causing as much grief as possible in the short time they are given to dance. His mother would not be thrilled to know of his plans - but he didn't care for her thoughts either.

Had she wanted him to behave she would have left him at home. He did not pretend to be the same as Howell, the prim and proper son of the family. Benjy prescribed to a much grimier side of things.


~*~

Howell was fully in his element here, the formality of the event something he enjoys immensely. As well as, he isn't the worst of dance partners out there. He worries only for a moment about his siblings. Benjy's lack of grace and Marynns hopelessness when it comes to anything like this. But, they are not his concern at the moment. He watches as the dancers are quickly lining up, and finally eyes a pretty blonde without a partner, one of the Thatchers - Ilene, he remembers her name at last. His knowledge of the other families surpassing most of his family. They were unconcerned with anyone outside of the Vale and the Misty Isles, but Howell took far more interest in the way that the other families worked.

He moves in across from her, giving her a kind smile. He doesn't want to put off any sort of thuggish air - he isn't like his brother - nor does he wish to be as stand-offish as his sister. Howell put himself far above the standards they set. Bowing, and offering a hand to her.

"Lady Thatcher, would you be so kind as to give me your first dance?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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#, as written by mjolnir
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RHAEGAR CASTILLON
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Heir to Blackvale | The Falcon
#B70909 | Outfit
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BROM CASTILLON
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Prince | The Peacock
#061B62 | Outfit
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SYLAS THORNE
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Heir to Dark Wood | The Viper
#999999 | Outfit
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GWENDOLYNN CASTILLON
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Princess | The Little Dove
#F56E6F | Outfit


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Brom made no attempt to divert his gaze from the beautiful blonde before him. He found it surprising for the Black Keep to be an overwhelming sea of blonde. It seemed the golden hair blended from one head to the next aside from the pirates, the Thornes and his very fiery sister. Even himself and his brother part of that overwhelming pool. But he never worried for a second that he'd be lost in the crowd. Even if he wasn't wearing his crown, him and his brother seemed to tower over a majority of the guests.

His thoughts were brought back to the present circumstances when the enchanting woman before him took placed her own satin palmed hand in his, curtsying so that she could meet his bow. "Prince Castillon."

"Oh my dear, you may call me Brom... Or call upon me tonight, I wouldn't mind." Brom quirked his left brow as his pressed his lips upon the top of her hand as he stood back upright, taking a step towards her.

"One might be considered about that grin, particularly if one is to believe the rumours around these very halls."

Brom cocked his head as he turned to stand to the left of Vivienne, holding her left hand in his right. He waited for the music to begin and moved instep with the dance along the promenade part of the dance. The young woman looked naive and younger than what her age probably was. Her features were soft and curved. But even behind the sweet innocence she portrayed he felt there was something a bit more devious behind those golden locks.

When the dance called for them to face one another again, he placed his free hand on her waist. Brom then began to twirl her around, finally deciding to reply to her previous comment, "Rumors?" He played innocent even though his smirk was deceiving his tone. "Do enlighten me because I fear I do not know what you speak of." He released her waist to twirl her beneath his palm. He then pulled Vivienne in closer so that they were chest to chest and whispered, "I'm an angel."

***

It was obvious to Rhaegar that Clara took note of all the eyes that were upon them. After all he was the heir so no matter what he did, the entire party was going to be focused on him and all of his decisions. "Familiar?" she asked in response to his comment but she said it so softly he didn't catch it.

When she went to curtsey but fumbled, Rhaegar was quick to step towards her, gently taking hold of her shoulders to keep her from falling. "Are you alright my lady?"

Clara seemed to smile and chuckle at his honesty about not enjoying the pomp and circumstance behind this arrangement and placed her hand in his. "It's alright, Your Grace, I understand better than you think." Rhaegar smiled glad that someone understood how odd this whole situation felt. Generation after generation parents were doing this to their children, probably hating it as much as they did... but then they went on to doing it to their kids. He made a mental note that when he had kids of his own, they could marry whom they wanted.

"I must admit, I must have been very small, the last we met, I fear I don't remember you, I know of you, but no memories of my own, I'm afraid. When last were you in the North?"

Rhaegar turned with the line of other young Lords and Ladies, walking the intro of the dance as he held Clara's hand. Out of sync with the dance he playfully twirled her before bringing her in towards him, and placing his hand on her waist. "I do believe it's been the better part of a decade. My brother," he started as he moved with elegance as he guided her around the ballroom in accordance with the dance his mother drilled into his head. "It must have been when he decided to become King's guard. I believe we took him to the North to train under your father. Understandable that I would remember you and not vice versa. I was 17 or 18 which would have made you... 8, I believe?"

He released Clara's waist and gently guided her through a twirl, before bringing her close yet again. Rhaegar smiled towards his siblings when he caught their gaze before looking back towards his partner. "So are you hoping to find love this summer? Or did you come because your parents wanted you to?"

***

Gwen raised a brow at the very extravagant bow her dancing partner made towards her. He then took her hand and place a tender kiss upon her knuckles. "Good eve, my princess. I was hoping you'd do me the honor of being your first partner in the long series of dances we are about to undertake," Elliot said. When the young blonde smiled towards her, Gwen returned it with her own smile. She hoped she looked sincere even though deep down she wanted nothing more than to run out into the gardens and disappear up in a tree. He took a step closer to her with took her by surprise but she didn't pull away. "I am not after your hand, or your honor, do not fret about that. Just a friend to dance with," he winked towards her.

Gwendolynn inhaled sharply as she turned to stand beside him, walking to the beat of the music. She didn't quite believe his words because what better way to get close to a princess other than claiming not to want anything to do with her. His next words though caught her off guard, "If men were compasses pointing north, my compass lies south, if you take my meaning."

She turned to face Elliot, freezing in place until a couple behind them cleared their throats loudly in an attempt to get them to move. Gwen quickly picked up her pace, turning to face him scooping up the train of her dress in her free hand. It was a few moments into the dance before she finally connected the dots. "Oooohhh..." She laughs at how stupid she felt when she connected the dots. "I'm afraid my lord, that there may not be much in that realm here at the Black Keep. I don't know if there will be anyone to satiate that appetite."

Gwendolynn was able to finally exhale a deep breath almost worried she might pop her corset. But it was nice knowing she didn't have to put on airs for the first dance of the night. She was nervous enough as it is, having to dance with someone who would try to seduce their way into her bed or status wasn't something she wanted to deal with just yet.

***

Sylas tried not to scoff or simply walk away when the Daverny woman seemed to be having more trouble with her dress that it was worth. None of the other women seemed to have issues but then again it looked like this one wasn't used to walking on land for more than a moment or two, or in anything that wasn't trousers. He grasp on his hand was light, no doubt she was looking forward to this dance about as much as he was.

"Lord Thorne," she started. At least she knew who he was, that's a start. "Calling me Marynn is alright, or Mary if you prefer informalities." She smiled towards him as he began to lead her side by side following the line of partners.

"Ah well, my Lady Mayrnn, you may call me Sylas." He gently turned her, placing his other hand on the back side of her ribcage.

"I should warn that I am not very good at dancing."

Sylas could see right past the fake smile. She seemed as uncomfortable with dancing as she was in that dress but no matter he wasn't going to let on. It was too soon to show his true colors so he simply smiled his charming effortless smile that made his eyes seem to sparkle even if they masked his true disgust with this whole evening. "You are in lucky my lady, for I've been told I'm an excellent dancer." With a soft press on her back he guided her into a twirl. "But it is fortunate that this dance is simple. A bow and a curtsey, promenade, break off into pairs, a few twirls... And then switch." When he said switch, he spun her again. "The most difficult part is pretending like we actually enjoy this boring dance."

Sylas gave a slight chuckle. The Dance of Blackvale was horrid and boring. Nothing short of doing the same exact same thing over and over again. Simple enough for this dull crowd.

***

The King watched as the younger generation moved together to begin dancing. He could see their hesitance and disdain as plain as day on their face. He couldn't help but feel a sinking sensation in his gut. He wished it was easy enough to allow them to marry whom they wanted when they wanted. This was there glimmer of a chance but their pool of options was small. Arranged marriages never turned out remotely as well as they should.

His gaze drifted towards his wife with the thought. Magnus leaned towards her, pressing his lips against her cheek in a loveless kiss. "I am going to converse with our guests my love." With that he stepped down form the royal podium and worked his way through the crowd. When he caught only a momentary glimpse of his daughters gaze he gave her a smile and a playful wink.

Magnus wasn't sure where he was going, his feet carried him and before he knew it, he found himself before her. She hadn't aged a day, looking radiant as ever. She didn't try to look younger or hide her age like the Queen did. Her age was shown like a badge of honor to show her accomplishments and she wore it well. He couldn't help but smile as he bowed before her, taking her hand in his and placing a long lingering kiss upon it. "Elizabeth, lovely as ever."

He then looked towards Robert, smiling in greeting and shaking his hand. "You take very good care of all your girls. They've grown up to be such beauties, you must be proud." His gaze drifted to Elizabeth for a moment before back towards her husband, "Might I have your permission to walk about the room with your wife?" He asked Robert out of kindness as he held out an offered arm towards Elizabeth. If her husband denied him the offer, Magnus would find another way to get an audience with her, after all he was the king. But he was never one to cause futile disputes in the middle of a celebration.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rhaegar Castillon Character Portrait: Jonah Allyrion Character Portrait: Rosalyn Grayson Character Portrait: Clara Allyrion
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JONAH ALLYRION
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Eldest Child | The Winter's Wolf
#E80000 | Outfit
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CLARA ALLYRION
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Only Daughter | The Winter's Child
#388E8E | Outfit


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"If we must." Lady Rosalyn said and Jonah couldn't help but chuckle. He knew she wasn't going to be easily won, not that, that was his intention but still. He was glad to have been proven right. He could meet only so much polite and admittedly insipid women in one lifetime without wanting to fall on his own sword.
She followed him to the circle, and at once, appraised him with a hum and a raised brow. He knew this face, but for the life of him, he couldn't place it. "From the looks of you, you are a soldier. Most soldiers aren't graceful, so if you are too afraid of stepping n my feet, I could always lead you." She told him and Jonah outright laughed at that. Oh yes, formidable indeed. He took her slender fingers and rose her knuckles to his lips, brushing a soft kiss against the skin. Her skin was soft but still rougher than that of his sister and mother. It was the tips of her fingers that were rougher than the skin on the rest of her hand. Archery, or Throwing knives, if he had to guess. Perhaps she was a hunter too?

"Oh, My Lady, while it goes against my principles to tell a woman she is wrong, I must inform you, I am a not a soldier, I am a Ranger." He said after cupping her hand with the one that held it and wrapping a hand around her waist, keeping a respectable distance away from the small of her back as they were giving their cues to begin. He led her in the dance, his steps light, and quiet.

"Soldiers aren't meant to be graceful, they are meant to be loud, they are meant to seen and heard coming" He told her as he swirled them both, his back straight and his grip on her hand and waist firm but gentle, considering how they'd only just met and he did not want to seem too forward or controlling. It wasn't his way, he was always the one to let the woman have it her way and with a woman like Rosalyn, it was probably a safer bet.

"Rangers, however, are trained to be quiet, to not be seen or heard until it is too late, that means, we are to be light on our feet." He said, twirling her gracefully, to prove his point before he gave her his wolfish grin as a thought occurred to him.

As much as he wanted to flirt with her, he was curious. She noticed he was a fighter, that much was obvious, but that also meant that she had to be good, well trained to be able to spot another fighter. "Though, I will admit, I am much more interested in hunting with you than dancing." He said, hoping he didn’t offend her, but she seemed like a woman who wouldn't be offended by a man choosing to focus on a skill, something that was selected personally rather than a dance which most were forced to learn if his sister's lessons were anything to go by.

"You noticed I was a fighter, and I noticed the same of you. Which means that you know a thing or two, Your weapon of choice....Bow and Arrow, or Throwing knives, something light but takes focus, patience..." He said, not wanting to make her feel self-conscious about the small callouses on the tips of her fingers and focused on what it would take to use those weapons rather than the obvious tells. "Archery, is my guess, Am I wrong?"

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Before the prince was able to answer her, he led her in line with the others, holding her hand. Suddenly, he twirled her, her dress blooming around her legs before she was gently tugged toward him, his hand on her waist. Clara let out a small giggle of surprised. Her nerves were gone all of a sudden.

"I do believe it's been the better part of a decade. My brother," He began, as he glided across the ballroom, and with her nerves gone, her feet followed with relative ease. It was as if she were dancing in the great hall of the Shadow Keep with Jonah, something she'd been doing since she was very small. "It must have been when he decided to become King's guard. I believe we took him to the North to train under your father. Understandable that I would remember you and no vice versa, I was 17 or 18 which would have made you...8, I believe?" He said and she smiled, nodding. He knew, or rather remembered how old she was. That was refreshing though a bit sad. She didn't remember him. She was eight at the time, and that was during the years of her seclusion. She wasn't allowed out of the chambers, she was barely conscious during those years. The doctors had her drinking tea that made her sleep. She hated that tea. He might have been able to visit her in her chambers but if she were awake she was hardly lucid. She did remember once seeing the King. She remembered thinking he looked bright, like the sun.

Rhaegar twirled her again, and this time, more confidently, she spun and after bring he brought her close again, she closed her fingers around the hand that held hers.

"So are you hoping to find love this summer? Or did you come because your parents wanted you to?" He asked and Clara was struck by the question, luckily, she hadn't missed a step of the dance.
"Um, well." she stammered before swallowing the lump that formed in her throat and started again.

"To be honest, a little of both." She said honestly. "My parents--my mother mostly, insisted, but I agreed," She said and looked him in the eyes. "You've known me since I was small, you remember how sick I was?" She said and sighed. "I'm not good with other people, I tend to shy away from them, but I figured, since I was going anyway, I should give it a try since I probably wouldn't find love otherwise." She said and chuckled, "Do you hope to find love?" She said and with a suddenly surged of her brother's silver tongue she thought to ask if he'd found it yet and being that she'd been the only woman he'd danced with that would only mean she meant did he like her but she was hard that cheeky.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Jonathan Chaimbers Character Portrait: Jonah Allyrion Character Portrait: Gwendolynn Castillon Character Portrait: Ilene Thatcher
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AVERY THATCHER
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Eldest Son | The Armadillo
#F0A804 | Outfit
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ELLIOT THATCHER
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Youngest Son | The Casanova
#551A8B | Outfit
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ILENE THATCHER
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Only Daughter | The Thorny Rose
#CD1076 | Outfit


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Elliot was beginning to wonder if perhaps he had made a made a blunder he would not be able to escape from. The princess was oddly quiet after his admission. True what he said was a huge gamble. It wasn't exactly accepted to be homosexual after all and he had blatantly told the princess that he was gay. She could very easily sneer in disgust and call the guards to arrest him and throw him in the dungeons. Elliot let his hand lightly resting on the princess's back while the other held her hand as they began dancing. His heart was hammering in his ears however and he felt as stiff as a board, his muscle taunt in his trepidation with the princess's response.

Then at last the princess gave an exclamation as the information clicked. "I'm afraid my lord, that there may not be much in that realm here at the Black Keep. I don't know if there will be anyone to satiate that appetite," the princess laughed.

Elliot gave a sigh of relief that her pause wasn't her debating whether or not to raise some sort of alarm. His gamble paid off. Elliot relaxed then, his movements become fluid for the dance once more. The playful smile reached his lips again and his eyes lit up with ease.

"Ugh! I know!" he scoffed then with a pout. "It will be a lonely summer I am sure. Such a dreadful thing. But if you do happen to see that one of these handsome lords might take a fancy to it, please do send them my way," he mused with a smile. "Especially if it is Jonah Allyrion. He is quite the looker. Jonathan Chaimbers would do quiet nicely as well. Howell has a nice roguish looking quality now that I have a chance to look him over," he added before he returned his gaze to the princess. "Sorry. I hope you don't mind me scouting eye candy," he chuckled. Elliot twirled the princess in his arms and watched as her dress flowed around her before he brought her closer as it turned into a bit of a waltz.

"It is of no offense to you though, my lady. You are quite beautiful and the dress does suit your complexion. But I digress. When not being forced into an overly tight corset, what do you enjoy doing with your time?" he asked her then.
______________

"Lord Avery, your first dance should be with none other than someone so beautiful as myself. You should be honoured.”

Avery took note of the smirk Lady Seraphina sported as she offered her hand to begin the dance. Though he understood it was supposed to be a joke, her comment was a little off putting for him and it made him self conscious. He knew his hands weren't really that smooth, what with his work in the fields and his sword practice. It must be quite aversive to Seraphina's delicate hands. Avery led her into the dance as the music began, unsure of what he wanted to reply to her.

"I am honored, Lady Seraphina. You are quite beautiful and your name is to. I am sorry your first dance is with one so rough," he answered. It was both an honest comment but he also wanted to see what her response was to that admission. He knew many noble women did not fancy lords as humble and work centered as he was.

And Avery couldn't sport that he was an excellent dance. He was sure his brother and sister were much better at this but he wasn't a poor dancer either. He was a warrior and a lot of that was anticipating your opponents move. So at first though the dance was a little awkward, he slipped into the rhythm quick enough. He wasn't sure what to say to her. He was generally a quite person after all. "Are you looking forward to the summer here?"

_________

Ilene was pulled out of her wonderings about Elliot's plans when she noticed someone had taken up the empty space in front of her. It was one of the Daverny boys. She could easily tell them apart from the other families thanks to their clothing. She had to say it was refreshing to see something different. She offered the lord a nod of her head and offered her hand. "Lord Howell, I would be happy to dance with you," she answered him. The two began to dance as the music picked up and Ilene studied the lord's face. He wasn't bad looking and he seemed polite at least. And she couldn't hide the interest she had about him and his family. She had never been on a boat and had never ventured anywhere near the Misty Isles. This was a perfect opportunity to ask Howell about it.

"So, Lord Howell, I hope you don't mind but I am very curious about the Misty Isles, about life on a ship. Would you enlighten me about the Misty Isles?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Jonah Allyrion Character Portrait: Rosalyn Grayson Character Portrait: Avery Thatcher
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#, as written by Arrow-
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ROSALYN GRAYSON
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King's Bastard | The Red Rose
#660033 | [url]Outfit[/url]
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SERAPHINA GRAYSON
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Eldest True Grayson | The Sweet Pea
#C19A6B | [url]Outfit[/url]
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SYLVA THORNE
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Sylas' Twin | The Cobra
#583668 | [url]Outfit[/url]
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AURORA GRAYSON
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Youngest Grayson | The Little Petal
#87758F | [url]Outfit[/url]


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Sylva watched as the pirate boy bowed before her and she almost scoffed. She hadn’t known they knew any manners. Sylva took a moment to look over at her brother briefly, who was also paired with a Daverny sea creature. The girl looked like she was tripping all over herself, as if she had no land legs at all. Her sharp gaze turned back to the boy, Benjy as he liked to be called.

"Lady Thorne, I must say that you are very beautiful.” He chided as he took her hand and began to attempt at leading her to the dance. It was pitiful. She had to make sure her delicate feet weren’t crushed by his massive ones. Sylva hummed in response, face unchanging. She wasn’t one for fake pleasantries where they weren’t needed. “So I have been told by many.” She mused as they twirled and he almost caught one of her toes.

“I must say I am surprised to see the Daverny clan out of the water.” She said and just when he was about to make a mistake in the dance she corrected it, almost leading the dance herself. He truly did not know what was going on, did he? “I am beginning to think the land itself may become wet with tears, what with your clumsy feet walking all over it.” She kept the hiss and bite from her voice, making it seem more sarcastic.

Luckily for her, she knew this would only last a few more minutes. Get the worst over with first. From the looks of all the men, it could only get better from there. Sylva was aching to get dance with her brother already. He knew what he was doing. She glanced over again to see him all smiles and charm. A snort almost raised from her throat at the looks of it. Her brother had a much better game face than her. If only they knew how terrible he truly was.

***


Seraphina began the dance with Lord Avery Thatcher, glad that he could at least dance somewhat well. From the looks of it, she could have been much worse off for a first dance, as the Daverny boy nearby looked like he was stumbling about sloppily. At least the Lord Thatcher was careful enough to not crush her toes.

"I am honored, Lady Seraphina. You are quite beautiful and your name is to. I am sorry your first dance is with one so rough,” Avery began, an attempt at conversing with her. Seraphina snorted and rolled her eyes. She supposed even a man could be self conscious at times. "Are you looking forward to the summer here?” He continued. Small talk.

“Lord Avery, as rough as you may be, it is not the outside that matters at all. It is the inside of the soul, the talents one possesses and how they use them to their advantage is what matters most to me. If the shell for that soul happens to be appealing, it is just a bonus.” She explained, matter of fact. Though that may seem caring, wise and un-judgmental, the true meaning behind it was that she didn’t care about a persons looks, so long as they were strong willed and could obtain power. Like her.

“As for my summer… Well, being in the castle setting truly brings out the best in me.” She smirked. “A change of pace was never bad for anyone. Besides, are we not supposed to find our true loves here?” She chuckled. It was another way of rephrasing the fact that they had this small group of people present that they were to choose a suitable partner with.

***


Aurora continued to watch the youngest son to the Western Bluffs bow for quite sometime before rising again. "Oh, dear Lady Aurora, how wrong you are.” He said in response to her. He reached up and twirled some loose strands of her hair, a gesture Aurora only saw as innocent. "Have you ever been to the Western Bluffs?” He asked her before continuing, "Because we have a legend about woman with your hair. We call them the Fae, they once inhabited the land now known as the Green Valley, which is why it is the most fertile land in all of the Bluffs. The women were said to have silver hair and such delicate features, much like yours, and whilst we have no evidence of them ever existing, if you ever visited you would be referred as a goddess.”

Aurora laughed in awe at the story. “I have never been outside of the Riverlands. Being the youngest does not get you far from home… But I love adventure, and I have read books on the Western Bluffs, none of the Fae though. They sound marvellous. The only other person with this white hair is my mother and she isn’t a goddess as much as she may seem like it at times.” She laughed. “I would love to travel there one day. I would love to see everything.”

After her quick change of topic, the boy seemed quite stunned by her question. She supposed it was quite shocking that a woman her age had yet to taste any kind of liquor. "It's fun to forget certain things and let your inhibitions run loose for a night, so yes. It can be quite 'fun', I suppose.” He said, quite in thought before finishing, "But then again, sometimes the morning afterwards is like that spin, only for an hour after waking and then all that fun didn't seem worth it because you can't quite recall everything that occurred that night.”

Aurora hummed, “I suppose that may be true, from one who has drank. Especially tonight.” She laughed harder as she caught another whiff of alcohol coming from him. Her brutal honesty and missing filter were ever present. “From what I have seen though… alcohol can be quite beautiful too.” She pondered softly and looked off into the distance as he had, in thought, as they twirled in the dance. “From what I have seen, a mans true heart comes out when he is drunk. In that sense, alcohol is like the key that unlocks the window of a persons true inhibitions.” Aurora looked into his eyes again and smiled honestly, “I suppose it has its good and its bad. Is that an odd way to think of it?”

Then again, nothing about Aurora was very normal.

***


Rosalyn was still smirking as Lord Jonah raised her hand and pressed his lips to her hand. He raised again with a sly smile of his own and wrapped an arm around her waist. The music slowly picked up until they were cued to begin dancing. "Oh, My Lady, while it goes against my principles to tell a woman she is wrong, I must inform you, I am a not a soldier, I am a Ranger.” He said to her as they moved to the beat. "Soldiers aren't meant to be graceful, they are meant to be loud, they are meant to seen and heard coming. Rangers, however, are trained to be quiet, to not be seen or heard until it is too late, that means, we are to be light on our feet." She supposed he was right. The more they danced the more she realized he wasn’t heavy enough to be a warrior; he was much more lethe. Also, she realized his footsteps were just as silent as hers. If there had been nothing but them in the room, their dance and the room would have been completely quiet. The man went ahead to provide proof by twirling her around. She smirked and quickly, yet easily, kept balance.

Rosalyn decided to stay quiet, picking up from his facial cues that he had more to say to her. "Though, I will admit, I am much more interested in hunting with you than dancing.” He continued, though this caught her by slight surprise. He could tell she was a fighter already? It was not something most anyone could pick up on. She supposed it took one to know one.

"You noticed I was a fighter, and I noticed the same of you. Which means that you know a thing or two, Your weapon of choice....Bow and Arrow, or Throwing knives, something light but takes focus, patience…" Jonah said and Rosalyn realized that during his kiss to her hands he would have felt the callouses on her fingertips. "Archery, is my guess, Am I wrong?” He asked.

Rosalyn could have easily freaked out, having him unhinge her lesser known talent just like that, but that wasn’t the kind of person Rosalyn was. She had much more important things to hide then her bow skills. Instead, she just smirked and raised a brow at him herself. “My, my, Lord Jonah. Despite the way you look, you are quite clever.” She jabbed at him in sarcastic jest. “As much as I love to prove someone wrong, I must adhere to your assumption. What can I say? The gigantic tension before the shooting of an arrow and the total release and relaxation seconds later is my way of keeping me connected to reality.” Rosalyn said honestly and then shrugged. “I am quite good at it also.”

As they twirled more, she couldn’t help but chuckle at his curiosity. “A piece of advice though, I wouldn’t go digging around within the backstories of many people here, lest you come across something too shocking that ends you with an arrow right here…” She reached up and teasingly tapped his forehead. “Whether you take this advice from a woman, or not, is completely up to you, Lord.”

***


Elizabeth allowed herself to relax a little as her eldest daughter was whisked away by a more exotic boy. Rosalyn was a beautiful girl, who wouldn’t be interested in dancing with her? Then again, all of her daughters were beautiful. She gazed over to Seraphina who was gazing at her partner with sharp, intelligent eyes, as always. Aurora was dancing excitedly with a big gin on her face right nearby. She may not have been completely in love with Robert, but Elizabeth would always be thankful to him for giving her two more beautiful girls.

The silver haired woman could only hope by the end of this summer all three girls would come out unscathed. Aurora was innocent and gullible, something Elizabeth knew all too well that could be extorted. Her cheery demeanour reminded Elizabeth of herself when she was young and hopeful and in love. Seraphina, on the other hand, was an aggressive girl who always strived for what she wanted. Elizabeth wished she had had that kind of perseverance when she was her age. If so, things would have been much different. Lastly, Rosalyn… She was a whole other story. Elizabeth deeply worried her headstrong daughter would only wind up dead by the end of it all.

In the midst of her revelry, Elizabeth had not noticed the man walking towards her and Robert until he was right in front of them. "Elizabeth, lovely as ever.” He said as he bowed, kissed her hand and stood up. Elizabeth swallowed quickly and kept her composure as her heart suddenly dropped into her stomach. The King. The very one she had much history with. He was still handsome as he always had been, except now it was in a much more refined and perfectly aged way. So not to be rude, Elizabeth gave a small smile and curtsied, though her legs felt like falling apart.

"You take very good care of all your girls. They've grown up to be such beauties, you must be proud.” King Magnus said as he shook her husbands hand. Robert grinned and nodded, “Very proud. Though I must say the beautiful piece is mostly due to my wife.” He chuckled and looked at Elizabeth who gave him a half-hearted smile back. Magnus, smooth as always, smiled and continued, "Might I have your permission to walk about the room with your wife?” Robert was no idiot. If the king asked for something, you would be a fool not to grant it, lest the wrath of all the loyal kingdoms fall upon you instead. “Of course, it would be an honour.” He said, though Elizabeth knew him well enough to know he was not completely pleased with the idea.

Elizabeth wished she could run at that moment, but being the refined lady she was, she took the Kings arm and let him lead her away as her stomach tore itself to shreds. She didn’t dare look over to Rosalyn, otherwise she might lose herself.

Your Majesty,” She stressed, “To what do I owe the honour of this stroll?”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Rhaegar Castillon Character Portrait: Jonah Allyrion Character Portrait: Rosalyn Grayson Character Portrait: Gwendolynn Castillon Character Portrait: Clara Allyrion
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JONAH ALLYRION
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Eldest Child | The Winter's Wolf
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CLARA ALLYRION
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Only Daughter | The Winter's Child
#388E8E | Outfit


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“My, my, Lord Jonah. Despite the way you look, you are quite clever.” Lady Rosalyn jabbed and Jonah chuckled. She wasn't the first woman to tease him and surely she wouldn't be the last. He had the feelings with the women here, most of them anyway, that would happen a lot before the night was through. “As much as I love to prove someone wrong, I must adhere to your assumption. What can I say? The gigantic tension before the shooting of an arrow and the total release and relaxation seconds later is my way of keeping me connected to reality.” He said and the way she spoke Jonah believed every word. He could see it in her eyes when she spoke them. She got a sense of relief and escape when her arrows flew, much like when he and Snow were out for a hunt. The wait, the quiet, the way his senses came alive and the world around him felt as if it rested on his skin, and the freedom that came when he snagged his game. Yes, he understood that feeling well. Perhaps not the same as she, he could only imagine the pressure she was under being the heiress, it was harder on the women than the men he noted so he could understand the sense of control she must have felt. Rosalyn, catching herself in a moment of vulnerability, shrugged. “I am quite good at it also.” She said simply and Jonah smiled. He wouldn't press for any more than what he'd already received. He was honored really.
"Of that, I have no doubt,"
He led her a little in the dance before she mused something, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

“A piece of advice though, I wouldn’t go digging around within the backstories of many people here, lest you come across something too shocking that ends you with an arrow right here…” She said and pressed a delicate finger to his forehead and tapped. Jonah gave her a wolfish grin. He wanted so to...well, he wouldn't, but she was tantalizing his thoughts. “Whether you take this advice from a woman, or not, is completely up to you, Lord.” She warned him and he rose a dark brow, his grin never fading.

"The best advice I've ever receive tumbled from the lips of a woman, I trust her words more than my own." He said and of course, he was talking about his mother but he wasn't about to admit to that. Some woman liked how much he loved his mother but some might not. He hadn't deduced that from Rosalyn just yet.
"I will say, though, My Lady, A mysterious woman such as yourself, tend to arouse curiosity." He told her, choosing that word specifically, not in a crude sort of way, but he was flirting again. He couldn't resist considering his curiosity wasn't the only thing she aroused. "Though your advice is sound, I'm sure, you should know it will be very difficult to heed. Especially when the mystery dances just out of my reach, He told her, allowing himself to pull her a bit closer than he had before. His hand was still a respectable distance from the small of her back, but she was tugged gently to his chest. "it would make any man risk an arrow to solve it."He said just as the song ended. He graced her with a bow and another kiss to her knuckles. "We should hunt together, I imagine it would be great fun, I will be sure to wear my armor, should there be any stray arrows flying my way." He said before spinning her off into the line again. He swaggered to the line, hoping she was watching and did not dare look back. Women liked mystery as well, he noticed.
A wolfish grin lingering on his full lips, he turned to face the women again. He noticed his sister and there was a lingering smile on her face. Her lips were turned slightly upward and for Clara, that was saying much. She liked Rhaegar. Whether it was romantic or not, Jonah couldn't tell from here, but she liked him and that was a good sign. He looked over the women and he was back to his previous dilemma. Who to choose?

He scanned the women and his eyes once again fell on the Princess and her crimson hair. A strange lump formed in his stomach and he thought about approaching her and he couldn't bring his feet to carry him her direction. A strange sensation filled the pit of his stomach. Nerves? No, not him. He never had nerves, well, he did but it was often the bold nerves to approach a woman, not the ones that held him back from one. Despite this, his eyes averted and he found himself looking at a tiny little silver haired woman and he smiled. She was awfully small, she had a childlike aire about her that drew his thoughts from whatever happened to him when he looked at the Princess. She reminded him of an opulence version of his sister, who too was small and had a childlike aire. He chuckled to himself, poor Clara was the shortest thing here. He approached the woman and realized by the blue of her eyes that he found himself with the youngest of the Grayson. He wasn't sure about how Rosalyn would feel about him dancing with her sister shortly after flirting so vigorously with her but it was much too late now. "My lady, Aurora." He said with a graceful bow, wondering if her sister actually brought that bow with her because if she did, he was in trouble. It took one look to tell him that she, unlike her eldest sister, would smile at sweet words, not crude ones. He decided to treat her much like he would his sister, more or less. "Such a fitting name, It reminds me of the lights that dance in the sky in the North." He told her, taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. Now, her hands were soft, but she had a warmth to her skin that, a sun kissed glow to her skin that showed that she liked the outdoors but not in the sun, directly, too often, not with that silver hair. He wondered if she'd ever seen the snow. [color=##E80000"Might I have this dance?"[/color] He asked her with a sweet smile, not his usual predatory wolfish grin, he didn't want to intimidate her.




”Yes but not for the reasons I should.” Rhaegar's expression grew crestfallen causing Clara to frown sadly herself. ”If I do not find love this summer and choose someone, then I, unfortunately will be assigned someone.” He said and she sighed. How awful it must be for him. She was the youngest child, and while yes, her mother drilled it into her head how important it was for her to marry, she would never be assigned to anyone. Her father would see to that. The song came to an end and he lead her back to the line. ”It’s not that I would not care for the woman and treat with the utmost respect… But I could never be truly happy with someone I did not choose.” He said and she nodded, understanding. When they reached the end of the line, and the song slowed to a stop, Rhaegar gave her a twirl, she did not see coming. She managed to keep from spinning off like a klutz and released a chuckle. He was smiling now but it wouldn't solve his problem. He gave her a bow and took her hand into his and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. She smiled sadly at him. He was so kind, so sweet. She wasn't in love with him, but it wouldn't be hard to do so.

”I do hope that you find the love you deserve this summer, my lady. Someone deserves to wake up to your beauty every sunrise.” He told her and she felt heat rise to her cheeks. She wanted to tell him, he deserved true love too, and she would pray to the Ancestors that he would find it but he'd already walked off. Distracted by the Prince and his parting words, she did not see Fredrick Chaimbers approach her and he gave her a bit of a start. "Oh, I didn't see you there, My lord, You gave me a fright!" She said, a hand to her chest. He was a handsome fellow, as many of the men here were, but he had a friendly face and an easy smile. She had half a mind to ask him to dance, he was so welcoming.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Brom Castillon Character Portrait: Jonah Allyrion Character Portrait: Rosalyn Grayson Character Portrait: Avery Thatcher
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ROSALYN GRAYSON
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King's Bastard | The Red Rose
#660033 | [url]Outfit[/url]
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SERAPHINA GRAYSON
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Eldest True Grayson | The Sweet Pea
#C19A6B | [url]Outfit[/url]
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SYLVA THORNE
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Sylas' Twin | The Cobra
#583668 | [url]Outfit[/url]
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AURORA GRAYSON
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Youngest Grayson | The Little Petal
#87758F | [url]Outfit[/url]


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Seraphina almost snorted when Avery said, “I agree.” Of course he would. He seemed too kind to turn any ladies words down. She pondered this as he continued. “Appearance shouldn’t count so much. Our deeds speak far louder and longer than our outer shells. As for changes and true loves, I don’t think we’ll find true love by pursuing it by force. With everyone here pursuing each other in the hopes of ‘winning’, it will amount to more ‘losing’ and pushing away what is real. Love should flow naturally, if it is there. A friendship can be far more valuable than a romance in strange situations like these.”

Seraphina almost sighed. While what he was saying could be seen as quite noble, she couldn’t follow his words. Seraphina wasn't here seeking love, she was seeking power and would do anything to get it. The soon-to-be-King was going to be hers, he had to be. Seraphina had spent too much of her life wedged between Rosalyn’s shadow and Aurora’s childishness. Rhaegar would be her husband, and she would crush any girl in her way.

Before she could say anything else to the man, the music queued them to change partners. Avery dropped into a bow. “Have a good evening, Lady Seraphina. If there is love here, I do hope you find it in one of these suitors.” She sighed and mentally rolled her eyes. Would there be anyone here that understood love wasn't worth it?

Next to be her partner was none other than the future King’s brother. He was rather handsome too, especially that she saw him up close. She wondered briefly if sharing a bed with him would ruin her plans to wed his brother and decided to think about it at a more opportune time. “My lady Seraphina, you are without a doubt stunning this evening.” He said as he bowed to her and kissed her hand.

Seraphina smiled softly and curtsied as any lady should. “Prince Castillon, what a pleasure… Though from the looks of that fake smile, you are having just as much fun as I am.” She chuckled. “Appearances are quite a hinderance. Especially in front of family.” She teased lightly and got into the position to dance with him.





Sylva avoided being stepped on by the pirate-boy’s clumsiness while listening to him talk. “It’s a myth that we never walk on land, and not a very intelligent one at that. After all, one cannot always look after an entire island from afar.”

Sylva sighed and looked at him with her cold face. “I pity the land you walk upon. Maybe one day you will do the earth a favour and stop walking entirely.”

Whether he heard her or not didnt matter because what he said next made her livid. ”But your lot would know plenty about myths, right?” He grinned at her, knowing well that he was touching upon a forbidden topic. She made sure to keep her appearance in check, making it known that what he said didnt affect her, but when she spoke her voice was as sharp as the most fearsome sword.

“I would hold your tongue, pirate, else wise you may wake up one morning to find that it has gone missing.” She hissed. The music changed and it was time to change partners. Sylva laughed softly and gave him a big, pleasant smile before changing to the next partner. She looked over at Sylas, hopping to catch his eyes. She knew that if he could just see her, he would know something was wrong. They had that kind of connection. She would have to tell him about the threat later on. For now, she was concerned with the new oaf in front of her.

“Good evening, Lady Sylva. You look very beautiful tonight. I do hope you are enjoying the dancing thus far?” he asked her innocently. His hands were rough from farming and the texture was much different from her brothers. Until the ball, she hadn’t truly been around, or touched, this many men. It was odd finding differences in the men. Lord Avery, the man before her, was the complete opposite of her brother. Light haired, kind face, pleasant demeanour.

It disgusted her, yet she tried to keep her appearances as best as she could. Causing problems for her brother and making more enemies would get them nowhere.

“Thank you, Lord Avery. You also look… quite fetching.” She said and curtsied before beginning to dance with him. She had nothing in common with this boy, so it would be quite interesting to see what small talk he would come up with.




When Rosalyn had been brought to the castle, she really hadn’t expected herself to be having any fun or making any friends. Of course, she couldn’t say if she truly considered Jonah a friend, but he certainly was fun at the very least.

”The best advice I've ever receive tumbled from the lips of a woman, I trust her words more than my own." He said. Rosalyn hummed in curiosity, wondering what kind of woman would give him advice. He seemed like quite the flirt, and thus she knew that the woman he talked about could be anywhere in the world.

"I will say, though, My Lady, A mysterious woman such as yourself, tend to arouse curiosity. Though your advice is sound, I'm sure, you should know it will be very difficult to heed. Especially when the mystery dances just out of my reach.” He said, and Rosalyn found herself laughing again at how ridiculous he was. She could only hope that other people were half as interesting as he was. If so, things might become more interesting. She was about to say something when he pulled her closer to him, gently resting against his chest. Most girls would gasp and blush, but Rosalyn just found herself laughing. What an interesting man. "It would make any man risk an arrow to solve it.”

With that, the song ended and Jonah swept back from his hold on her, bowing and kissing her hand. ”We should hunt together, I imagine it would be great fun, I will be sure to wear my armor, should there be any stray arrows flying my way." He said and spun her out of his arms and into the next man in line. Rosalyn laughed and watched him strutting away. Well, if anything, she had found herself a hunting partner. She wondered how long that would last though, when her plans unravelled.

Next in line to dance with her was a boy with some of the longest hair in the room. He looked as though he was a tad younger than her and she recognized him as Elliot Thatcher. “Ah, Lady Rosalyn, it is an honor,” He started and gave her a low bow as he took her hand in his own. He kissed her skin and smiled brightly at her.

“My lady, forgive me if I am being rude but it is not often to see a woman so well-trained with a weapon. I do hope the reason behind your training was a simple desire and eagerness to learn it, and not one of dire necessity. I hope to see you in your element one of these days.” He said, and Rosalyn realized he must have also felt her rough fingers. She dwelled on his words for a moment; why had she learned to shoot a bow? Desire or necessity? At first, it had been necessity. She needed to learn how to defend herself. The desire came soon after she realized she had an aptitude for the bow and rather enjoyed it. Of course, these were things she could not tell him.

“A weapon? And what, may I ask, makes you believe that it is a weapon I wield instead of a trade? I know many a women with rough fingers due to cooking and needle work.” She said as she curtsied and began to dance with him. “What about me says that I would know how to wield a weapon? I am just an innocent lady of course.”




Aurora was pondering whether what she had said was too odd for Frederick to handle, as it wouldn't be the first time her words had confused and turned those away from her. Most men, or really people in general, find her a bit weird. She could understand why; even she knew that she had a unique way of being. Nevertheless, she was pleasantly surprised when the man almost agreed with her.

"Not at all, in a sense it is true.” He said, ”I suppose it depends on the person, and why they're drinking." Aurora nodded. She supposed she would try drinking sometime, maybe even that summer. It would be an interesting experience to say the least.

The music slowly faded, thus marking the end of their dance. "It would appear our time has come to an end, ’tis a shame, I was rather enjoying the discussion." He said and bowed, letting go of her. She had found it rather enjoyable too. "It was a pleasure to have danced with you, lady Aurora, hopefully we shall see more of each other over the Summer.” Aurora smiled and curtsied. He was very kind, it seemed. She wouldn’t mind speaking to him more. He seemed to have experienced things she would find interesting to learn about.

Her next partner was her sisters previous one; Jonathan Allyrion. Tall, dark, handsome. He was sure to sweep someone off their feet, and with one look to her sister’s unusually cheery eyes, Aurora knew this man was one of the good ones. It took a miracle to actually make her older sister cheer up. She watched his face as he peered past her at first, looking over at the Princess, and Aurora giggled softly. She could see right through him, to the butterflies flying around in his stomach. A few moments later he seemed to snap out of his dreamy state and focus on her.

"My lady, Aurora.” The man said as he came up to her, clearing his head from his prior thoughts. He bowed and kissed her hand softly. “Such a fitting name, It reminds me of the lights that dance in the sky in the North. Might I have this dance?”

Aurora nodded to him and rested her hands in the right places. “Of course you may, Lord Jonah.” He was much taller than her, and lankier than most men, so it felt rather funny to her that she would dance with him. It was like a small fairy was dancing with a giant. Instead of telling this to him, she focused on his prior comment.

“My Father once told me that I was named after the night skies lights. He said that my Mother wanted me to be just as bright and beautiful as them one day… So they named me after it.” She grinned. “I have never seen the lights myself though, as I rarely left the Riverlands.”

They spun around to the music and Aurora looked at him curiously, “I must ask, Lord Jonah. Why did you not go to her? I am not the one you want to be dancing with right now. I can tell, I’m very perceptive.” She said bluntly. “The Princess is very beautiful, but that should not deter you or make you nervous. If you are smart enough to make even my older sister laugh, you can make the Princess smile as well.”




The subtle harshness in the words dug deep. But he keep the smile upon his face and let his hand finally rest upon hers. His gaze fell as he hesitated before speaking in a hushed tone. ”Would it be too forward of me to say because I missed you terribly?”

He finally looked back up and met that gaze of hers that made him fall in love those many years ago. Magnus made sure to do nothing to draw attention their way, he didn’t want scandal or to disgrace Elizabeth. ”I know I shouldn’t speak of such things,” he concluded as he continued to lead her about the ballroom.

Magnus remained silent for a long while until they stood on the far end of the room where no one lingered and their voices could not travel. He kept his gaze forward, fixated on his children’s merriment but he spoke towards her, his hand lightly grasping hers tighter. ”I’d be lying if I said my heart did not yearn for you every waking moment since the day you left.”

Elizabeth felt like she was on the verge of fainting due to the anxiety. Why had this man decided to do this to her? She had just hoped to quietly co-exist with him during the summer, never getting close enough to even talk. With their past, it was dangerous for them to even be speaking to one another, much less walking together arm-in-arm. What could he want from her?

”Would it be too forward of me to say because I missed you terribly?” Magnus said. Elizabeth’s legs felt terribly weak in that moment and she had to stop herself from tumbling down as they walked. Those words hit her heart deep. It felt like old scars on her heart were being reopened. Their eyes met, and for a moment she saw him as he was when they were young and in love. He still had those same eyes.

”I know I shouldn’t speak of such things,” He said to her after her long silence, and he slowly lead her to a more quiet corner of the room where they could speak and not draw any attention to themselves. They watched their children spinning around the room with their partners. It all reminded her of when she had spent her own time in the castle. She had been so young and gullible.

”I’d be lying if I said my heart did not yearn for you every waking moment since the day you left.” His warm hand was on hers, gripping her tighter, and Elizabeth felt her knees shake beneath her dress. She was a strong woman when it came to most foes or enemies, but this man had a way of unhinging her with just a single glance.

Tears threatened to spring forth, just as her emotions that had been so well kept all of the years were unlocked and came pouring out. Elizabeth spoke so quietly, it was barely a whisper and she wasn’t sure if he would hear her. “You know it was not I that left you…”

They had been in love. So deeply in love. Elizabeth had thought her and Magnus would be together for ever and have the type of life that you only heard in stories. He would be a great ruler, and she would be beside him helping him through all the hardships. It would have been perfect, if it had not been ruined.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Jonah Allyrion Character Portrait: Clara Allyrion Character Portrait: Frederick Chaimbers
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JONAH ALLYRION
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Eldest Child | The Winter's Wolf
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CLARA ALLYRION
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Only Daughter | The Winter's Child
#388E8E | Outfit


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Lady Aurora was adorably little. Jonah noted, as she nodded. Her very present reminded him of his sister. He felt much too big, the urge to look after her was overwhelming. Yes, he would not be flirting with this one, it would be like flirting with his sister. “Of course you may, Lord Jonah.” He took her hand with a smile and led her to the floor.

“My Father once told me that I was named after the night skies lights. He said that my Mother wanted me to be just as bright and beautiful as them one day… So they named me after it.” She said with a grin. “I have never seen the lights myself, though, as I rarely left the Riverlands.” She said and Jonah was about to speak on that when she wore a curious expression, gazing up at him. Poor thing had to crane her neck to look him in the eye, he wanted to lift her on his feet, to stop the straining.

“I must ask, Lord Jonah. Why did you not go to her? I am not the one you want to be dancing with right now. I can tell, I’m very perceptive,” She said plainly and Jonah's dark brow rose to his forehead. "I see,"Jonah replied. “The Princess is very beautiful, but that should not deter you or make you nervous. If you are smart enough to make even my older sister laugh, you can make the Princess smile as well.” To his Jonah laughed. Yes, much like his sister. They were the younger, not much was expected of them, so they could speak their mind as they well pleased, or at least in Clara's case when Mother wasn't around. He looked down at her with a smile. He could say something flirty but no, not with her. He wanted her to smile, nothing else and a lie hidden behind a flirt would not do, as she said, she was perceptive.
"You should meet my sister, I believe you to would get on quite nicely." he commented. "You are right, she makes me nervous, but it is not her pretty face, if it were, I would have been nervous to speak to you as well."
Alright, so he wouldn't flirt too much. "Truthfully, My lady, my nerves are well..." He paused, he didn't like speaking this allowed but he appreciated her willingness to speak her mind, and that should be rewarded with the truth. "My true name was a gift to the King, a thank you for gifting my father a lordship when he'd been nothing more than a stable hand before the war. My father promised that he would name his firstborn son, the heir to the keep after the man that gave it to him." He said and his eyes found his father for a moment. "So my name is Magnus Jonah Allyrion." He said and smiled. "So you can imagine why I am nervous to dance with the woman whose father I am named after." He said and had the feeling she would ask why he went by Jonah and not such a powerful name. His sister would have. "This part is a secret of mine, but I go by Jonah because I have yet earned my true name. I will one day, but not as of yet." He told her with a smile. "Can you keep that between us?" He asked. "And perhaps one day, I can show you your namesake."

Meanwhile, Clara watched Lord Fredrick as he chuckled. "I guess, I'm just so unremarkable."He said and for a moment she missed the jest. "Especially if such a beauty doesn't notice me... Perhaps I should become a thief." He said and she pursed her lips in a pout. He bowed to her and she smiled a little. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Clara." He said and she nodded. "The pleasure is all mine, Lord Fredrick." She said with a curtsey and allowed him to lead her to the floor. "So, My Lord Unremarkable," She began, knowing her mother would not be pleased with her being the one to start the conversation but she couldn't resist the urge to tease him back. She knew coyness was a game that women often played, she needed to try her hand at it, besides, it would be much too easy if she did play things this way. "What do you like to do?" she asked with a smile. "Outside of teasing innocent girls?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Jonah Allyrion Character Portrait: Gwendolynn Castillon Character Portrait: Clara Allyrion Character Portrait: Frederick Chaimbers
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JONAH ALLYRION
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Eldest Child | The Winter's Wolf
#E80000 | Outfit
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CLARA ALLYRION
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Only Daughter | The Winter's Child
#388E8E | Outfit


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Darkness fell upon the room with the suddenness of a lightning strike. Clara gasped, grabbing ahold of Lord Fredrick as candle smoke wafted through the room. She closed her eyes a long moment, before opening, allowing her naturally dark attuned eyes to adjust. She could see as clear as day while the others seemed to need a moment. The other not including her brother, who adjusted much more quickly than she had. She turned to her dance partner "What is happening?" She asked with a frown, just before a stillness fell over the room that was in equal parts unsettling and familiar. The sensation danced a shiver up her spine. Lord Fre-" Now sooner had she spoke, did a man, clad in black appear before her and behind him. She gasped causing Lord Frederick to turn. He pushed her behind him, still needing to adjust to the sudden darkness. So much so that he didn't see the blade that sung as the hooded man pulls from his sheath, clearly enough to do much of anything before the man slide it across his throat. Clara screamed as Fredrick grabbed his throat, a cascade of crimson flowing between his fingers. He tettered before collapsing on his knees. Clara went down with him, unsure of what to do beyond hold his hand there as if that would be enough to staunch the bleeding.

It was a momentary lapse but she forgot all about the man that did this, and she looked up at him, as he eyed her, as if deciding what to do with her. She stiffened and held close to the dying man in her arms as the assailant reached up with his blade, prepared to strike. Her eyes closed but nothing came but a sharp snap. Clara jumped looking up to see the man down and her father standing over her, "Father!" she cried, tears falling down her face, while Lord Fredrick went limp in her arms, she followed him down and sobbed. "Clara, there is nothing we can do for him now, Come," Her father said with a touch of sadness in his voice. Clara nodded and stood, laying Fredrick down gently. "You are remarkable." She whispered to the corpse before clinging to her father,


Meanwhile, Jonah wasted no time, his eyes adjusted to the darkness almost immediately. He pulled Lady Aurora behind him, wishing he had a blade of some sort on him but he didn't. It was a freezing dance for the sake of the gods, yet he could feel the darkness brought forth danger. No sooner then he thought that did his sister's shrill scream ring out, Jonah turned, keeping a tight hold of his partner. While finding Clara in the crowd. Lord Fredrick was down and a man stood over his sister. He made a move forward but his father, as his title suggested, emerged from the dark, like a shadow and snapped the small man's neck with his massive hands. Jonah knew his sister was safe and looked for his mother, instead of his mother's red hair, he saw a touch of it, just outside. He knew that was the Princess and he couldn’t imagine she was running away from her brothers. No, she was being taken. He couldn’t very well leave the little woman he was with, so he turned, scooping her off the ground, protests or now, and made his way over to his father, who had both his sister and mother in tow. The two men didn't exchange words but they didn't need to. His father gave him a curt nod, promising he would get the women out, Aurora included. "You're Safe here, My Lady, Go with them." He said, and without another word, he dashed off, moving with an uncanny silence.

He found himself outside, and he stopped, pausing a moment, to listening. His heart was racing, but he calmed himself, so not to make a mistake. There was a grunting sound, but not the ones that would indicate a lover's tryst. He followed it, and soon, dotted of blood gave him a trail to follow more precise than the sound. Wishing Snow was with him and not somewhere in Blackvale's woods, Jonah softened his steps to see that a man was forcing his blade down on the princess. Jonah quelled his fury, at the sight. What man would use such a tactic on a woman, she wasn't defenseless but she wasn't armed either. Jonah crouched low and stepped around them so that the man had his back to him, and silent as a shadow, he snuck up behind him and grabbed the man in a headlock, pulling him off the princess, and backward, using his weight to send both of them to the ground. The man blade clattered to the ground, while the man scrambled to get to his feet, all the while Jonah recovered gracefully. The man couldn't find his blade in the dark but Jonah could see it, unfortunately, it wasn't within his reach. He wasn't nearly as strong as his father but that would be fine. The man attacked and Jonah braced himself for the manic swings. He dodged them, his back stiff, his stance strong before he countered, smack a hand away that came toward his face, and coming in without a clenched fist. The blow tipped the man's head backward and that was enough of an opening for Jonah to come in, grabbed the man's arm, turning it, and pulling it down. He sent a sharp fist into the joint, and a sickening snap resounded. The man squealed as bone protruded from the skin. Jonah released him, and picked up the blade before with a touch of flair, relieved the would-be assassin of his head. Jonah took a breath and turned to the Princess.
"While I'm sure you are perfectly capable, I thought to offer my assistance." He said as he held out a hand to her. She was bleeding quite badly but overall she would heal. This was not the way he wanted to meet her but it couldn’t say it was a bad first impression unless she had an aversion to violence. In which case, he was a monster and stood not a chance but that was a thought for another time."Jonah Allyrion, May I help you up?"