Daceystvrk - Winter Rose

dacey's palm was flat against the stone, long, thin fingers red from the cold and where the skin had been picked and peeled around the beds of her nails. the starks were of the old gods; they believed that their nameless deities watched them through the trees, spoke to them through the whisper of the winds and rustle of the leaves and rush of the streams, but in the stones lay the history of man, of the ancestors whose blood persisted in their veins.

these walls had stood for thousands of years, raised by brandon the builder, seen the celebrations when the barrow kings and red kings and marsh kings had fallen to the kings of winter. they had seen the andals beaten back to the south and the wildlings back to the north, had seen the king who knelt and the end of the kings of the north, and had seen them rise once more from the dragon's ashes. they had seen starks born and die and born and die, over and over, and would go on doing so for as long as the sun continued to rise and set.

in between those moments, the ones preserved in the pages of history books, the walls had seen other things, the day to day living that had been lost to time. it was there that dacey's mind turned now, to a girl and a girl and a boy and the three wolves that shadowed them, long enough ago to become memory, not yet long enough to be lost.

"you fell from there, once," her voice was gentle and fond, her breath escaping her lips in small puffs that lingered in the air in a misty cloud. "and you landed on my snowman." it had been one of the first snows of the year. the snow was fresh, soft and powdery, which had been cyrene's good fortune. it had not yet compacted and turned to ice, and so, she had popped out of the pile that had once been dacey's work of art without a scratch.

she withdrew her hand from the wall, brushing it daintily against her furs to rid it of any dirt. "i wasn't going to climb it." it was a reversal from how things had been when cyrene had left for the riverlands, a wild and wilful girl who had balked at nothing, so much so that dacey had wondered if her sister had been born without fear. then, it had been dacey who had called words of caution. that cyrene would be halfway up the wall by now, responding to dacey's warnings with nothing but a laugh.

but things changed. the world changed, and they changed with it. in cyrene, the change was more pronounced than dacey could have ever imagined. but then, the years had not been kind to their kin. distance had not saved cyrene from grief and heartache. dacey did not know how to be with this new sister, who wore the face of the old. not yet.

"there isn't enough snow at the moment. to catch me if i fell."

who: @daceystvrk where: at winterfell when cyrene arrives home for the first time in years

There were notches in the outer walls. Always had been, always would be. Cyrene found at least some comfort that things in Winterfell would never change. The people who lived within the walls would. Death haunted the halls, but the years did as well. She'd already seen many who had survived the wars that lay in the past, but they had not come out of it unchanged.

Neither had she.

"Don't climb that," she spoke, voice pragmatic and clipped, "That cannot end well."

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

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

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

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

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

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

dacey did not answer the question immediately. it wasn't that she bristled at the question, did not take offence to the fact it had been asked. no, when the quiet stretched between them, it was because she was considering the answer she would give. the north had always been her home, a place she was sure she would never leave, she still felt that way. when she closed her eyes, she could not picture herself anywhere but winterfell, but she knew that would not always be so. once the matter of his own marriage was settled, owen would likely want to see her wed, too, and there was no telling where her groom to be would be from, and where that would see her living. the matter of leaving the north or not was not in her own hands.

"i don't know," she admitted at last, her voice quiet enough that it didn't carry beyond lillith. "the north is as much a part of me as the marrow in my bones. i shouldn't like to leave it, but none of us know what the future will bring."

and yet. her lips pressed together with the thoughts she would not speak aloud. for a long time, she had thought of winterfell as her sanctuary. as a sickly young girl, it was a place where the ills of the world could not touch her, and she had carried that thought process into her adulthood. now, though, she could not help but wonder if it was less a sanctuary, and more a cage she had constructed around herself. she took a breath to dispel the thought. there was little to be gained from dwelling upon it.

"ironoaks," she spoke softly, latching on to the offered distraction. there was something in the offer that tempted her, to her own surprise. she had always been more comfortable in what was familiar, but even in winterfell's halls, little felt familiar now. there was too much being whispered in the shadows, and the sinking anticipation of impending disaster she could not shake. the idea of an escape, however brief, was not unwelcome. "i would like to visit." she confirmed. "though we should both pray that i don't bring the cold with me when i do."

lillith stood beside dacey, her hands clasped loosely before her to keep them from fidgeting. the warmth of the hearth barely reached her, and she shifted slightly closer, her dark skirts brushing against the stone floor. the heat was a welcome reprieve from the biting chill of the north, though her mismatched eyes flickered toward dacey, noting the way her friend still seemed cold despite the fire’s proximity.

“the north doesn’t make it easy for visitors, does it?” she murmured, her voice light with an undertone of amusement. “i thought the cold might have mellowed since the last time i came here, but it appears as unyielding as ever. you must tell me, dacey—if you had the choice, would you ever leave it? or has it bound you too tightly, like frost creeping into stone?”

she glanced toward the bustling hall beyond, voices and laughter spilling into the quieter space they occupied. the firelight painted the edges of dacey’s gown in golden hues, and lillith’s gaze lingered there a moment before returning to her friend’s face. “you should come to the vale. ironoaks would welcome you, and it would do you good to escape this chaos, even for a little while. there are no hot springs to warm the walls, true, but the hearths burn just as brightly—and," as the thought formed a drunken clatter arose from a particularly rowdy group in the corner of the hall. "the company might be more agreeable.”

a faint smile tugged at her lips, softening her typically reserved expression. “though perhaps you’ll tell me you’re just as stubborn as your winters and wouldn’t leave even if the chance arose.”

cursed with "do you still like me?" "are you mad at me?" "did i do something wrong?" disorder

I've been worried ever since I was born

the last thing that dacey had expected to find when glorie had wed her brother was a sister. the best she had hoped for was a friend, but glorie had become more than that to her. now, she was as much family as her own blood siblings, and for that, dacey was endlessly grateful. it would have been easy for the mistress of coin to ignore dacey, the direwolf who had never found her howl, but she hadn't. in their sisterhood, dacey found solace, and that was what she sought now, in her own way. the tea and offer of a sympathetic ear was for glorie, because it was in the act of giving that dacey took her comfort.

"it was nothing." it truly had not caused her any trouble - if anything, it was a welcome distraction for them both. a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "an excuse to come and badger you, in truth. i thought it might go over better if i didn't show up empty-handed." it was typical of dacey's sense of humour, a wry sort of self-deprecation. she moved a little further into the room, settling in an empty chair and glancing at the pile of work glorie still had to sift through, with only a small pang of guilt. "i hope you don't expect to be here too much longer?"

the question was a tricky one to answer. dacey's gaze dropped to her hands - still, for a change, but her fingers raw and painful from the toll that everything going on had taken on her over the last few weeks. "just grief and worry," she answered truthfully. "something we have seen more than enough of. nothing you'd be sorry to miss."

if ever there were time for glorie to listen to her body and take a slight reprieve, it was now. her exhausted frame begged to be released from its upright position at her workspace to lean against the comforting cushion lining her chair. she would have allowed slumber to whisk her sway right then and there if it weren't for the light suddenly cast from the firelit hallway. she half expected to see adam emerge from the other side, but he'd been distant as of late, and she was reluctant to interfere with the way grieving had seemingly overtaken him. instead she's greeted by a friendly and familiar face. one that earns a warm grin from the princess consort.

"you didn't have to do that," there's a certain appreciation in the way she spoke. she hadn't a thought of such things until they were presented to her, but the realization that she was, in fact, in dire need of both only makes her that much more grateful. "thank you, your highness." always such formalities. would she ever learn to lighten her essence when others were near? she couldn't seem to unwind no matter how comfortable her kinship with someone is.

"of course, please join me. it seems i haven't seen the spring sun rise or set as of late. is there anything special i've missed?" the company of her family and peers, perhaps.

dacey nodded her head. one step each day. it was good advice in theory, if not for the fact that it felt like she was descending a steep set of stairs in the dark. if any of those one steps was on uneasy footing, she would go plummeting to the bottom. even when her feet found the ground, merely trying to find it made her stomach feel like it was trying to leap out of her throat. she had no idea if there was an end to the descent, but there had to be. seffora had similarly had to navigate her own darkened staircase, and now was starting to speak of the light at the end of it. perhaps, with time and patience, dacey could arrive there too.

she stayed quiet when seffora hugged her, her own arms coming up to hold her friend tight. she did not know if seffora knew how grateful she was for her support in that moment. though dacey had shared only a fraction of her worries, she felt lighter, unburdened in some ways. she made a mental note to send seffora a token of that appreciation before they returned to their respective lands once more.

"then you must be serious," the ghost-smile on her lips turned into something more genuine. dacey's melancholy had a permanent presence in her, but there were occasions where she could put it to the side, and this was one of them. "but you did not come all the way to the west to listen to my complaints. let's talk of happier things while we have time to spend together."

Seffora continued to hold her friend's hand, both grateful and saddened by this intimate space of trust and vulnerability the two shared. She never wished to see a loved one struggling, of course, but she also understood that sometimes it were the moments of an aching heart that brought people closer together. “One step each day,” she said to the princess. Some days it would be a step forward and some days it would feel like a step backward. And it was alright that it was so. Grief and heartache were not linear processes, she'd learned.

There was undoubtedly a warm, physical nature to Seffora in how she reached to hold hands or touch shoulders. For her most dear ones she couldn't help but wish to offer an embrace, and so she moved closer to Dacey to give her a hug.

“You can disagree,” Seffora chuckled then, her expression still soft, though with some more gladness in her eyes now “But know I will stubbornly insist upon it. It's the only thing I'm willing to contradict a princess about,” she half-joked. It was the beautiful thing about friends, she supposed, that she could see something in Dacey that the princess did not see in her herself, and vice versa. She experienced this with the Northern princess, and with Laena too —the subtle and tender ways in which they lifted each other up, trying to make the other see and recognize what others might have instilled into them to be blind to. It was the way in which girls —women— could do more than just survive in this world, but actually learn to thrive.

"must be the jet lag," her own grin betrayed the fact she was being about as serious as he was. it was true that dacey was a classic introvert, leaving social gatherings early more often than nod and endlessly glad that her job gave her a convenient out. it was different with ulises, though. he anchored her in a way, and it was easy to tune out the crowds that surrounded them and carry on as though they were both back at home in their own little world.

she'd not quite mastered spanish, though she was trying to learn, but she knew enough that she understood what he said perfectly, her cheeks tinging a light shade of pink. "so do you," came the simple response, before pulling out her wallet to tuck the pictures carefully inside, on top of a photograph of her dog that was beginning to look ragged around the edges. "are you sure? we don't have to." despite giving him the out, she allowed him to lead her back into the booth, squashing herself onto the tiny bench beside him. she slid a coin in to start the camera, and turned to him as the countdown began. instead of facing the screen and smiling, this time she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and waited for the flash to go off.

“Getting tired already?” he asked with a playful smile. Ulises it was more likely she just simply blinked, but then again, being in this sort of big event with so many people could be somewhat draining. His own social battery was still holding up, but he knew that in a couple of hours, he'd need to either step back for a bit or suggest they left altogether if Dacey was also feeling okay to leave then.

“Te ves hermosa,” he murmured without thought, just looking at the four little images of them. It was true that her eyes were closed in the last one, but her smile remained. She looked so serene, so happy. It made him feel endlessly fortunate to be able to play some part in Dacey's happiness like that. “Yeah, you can keep it,” he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Let's take another one,” Ulises suggested, taking her hand in his and guiding her back inside the booth.

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

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

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

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

♞

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

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

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

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

when the knock came at her door, dacey was still awake. sleep was not easy to come by for her - likely for any stark, given the myriad of tragedies that had faced. her mind was overburdened with worry more often than not, and this was not the first night she had lain awake until the dawn.

the knock startled her. at this time, it would only be a sibling or the bearer of more bad news. her relief that it was the former was soon washed away by the look on cassana's face. the two girls were drastically different, night and day in temperament, but there existed an unspoken bond that only sisters can possess. and so, without words, dacey threw back the covers and invited her into the bed.

as soon as cassana took her place next to dacey, she was covering them both again, her hand pressed gently into the small of her sister's back. the northern chill was unforgiving at the best of times, but worse in the dead of night when the fires were dwindling to ash.

eventually, cassana spoke, and at her words, dacey moved her hand from her back to wrap around her, pulling her as close as she could, as though that was enough to keep her safe. in reality, there was little dacey could do to protect her. she was no warrior, like so many of their blood, but it was not their comfort cassana had sought tonight. it was dacey's, and there was nothing she would not do to try and make her sister sleep a little easier.

"i'm sorry," her voice was tinged with understanding and concern. "would you like to talk about it, or would you prefer a distraction?"

location: at winterfell after the trip back home from the coronation event

@daceystvrk

as the late hours stretched on and on into the night's embrace, cassna moved the dimly lit corridors, her path illuminated by the soft glow of a candle clasped in her hand. her destination clear in her mind as she made her way to her sister's chambers.

a gentle rknock on dacey's door preceded cass's quiet entry into the room, casting her visage in a warm halo of flickering candlelight. whether her sister was still awake or roused from slumber mattered not, for in that first exchange of gazes between sisters, words were not needed. between them lay an unspoken understanding, nurtured since cass's return from the harrowing ordeal with the umbers. by day, she grappled with her turmoil through a veneer of aggression and anger. 

yet as night unfurled into darkness, a different specter haunted her—fear.

in the embrace of darkness, cass's unease found no refuge. unable to conceal her nocturnal trepidation with the same facade of anger, she harbored an unspoken dread. and so, an understanding unfolded between the sisters, a silent communion that transcended words. cass approached dacey's bedside, setting the candle upon the nightstand before extinguishing its flame, enveloping them both in the embrace of darkness. nestling beside her sister, she welcomed the comforting touch of dacey's hand upon her back.

minutes ticked by in silence before cass found the courage to speak, breaking into the silence. "i dreamt i was back there...that brandon didn't arrive in time," she confessed, her words punctuating the nocturnal stillness. it was not a prophetic vision that tormented the youngest stark, but a nightmare that held her in its unrelenting grip throughout the night.