Throughout Most Of Her Life, Rosalyn Had Been Led To Believe That Her Destiny Lay Within The North. Her
throughout most of her life, rosalyn had been led to believe that her destiny lay within the north. her father, in those rare moments of interaction with his youngest daughter, would tell her over and over to prepare for the north. there she would be away from the vale, from his sight and someone else’s issue to deal with. after all, her sister ravella would be sealing an alliance with a powerful vale lord, making her a valuable asset for the kingdom closer to their own. in this intricate dance of politics and marriage, his other daughter could be used to help the kingdom close by them. thereby securing alliances and ensuring prosperity. but the tapestry of fate often weaved intricate patterns, and the eventual upheavals of war and death transformed their predestined lives.
and yet, here she stood once more, poised for betrothal, this time not to a stark lord but to a stark king—a union that would elevate her status to that of a queen.
upon the first engagement announcement, rosalyn had delved into a tome detailing the teachings of the old gods. recognizing that her children would grow up worshipping these ancient deities, she diligently pored over the book's pages, seeking to imbibe the knowledge. yet, as the days elapsed, the book eventually returned to its place on the shelf, its purpose temporarily fulfilled. now, however, she found herself pulling it down again, gently wiping away the dust that had gathered, ready to plunge into its wisdom again.
outwardly, she adhered to the tenets of the faith of the seven, a virtuous woman of the vale, as expected. but always, there lingered that fractional part within her—a questioning spark. it was not solely due to the old gods book she had perused; rather, it was a lingering sense of unease that never seemed to abate. how could she reconcile the cruelty of her father, who wielded his power like a merciless blade, with the reverence he received within the sept? the hypocrisy of it all gnawed at her. in a realm where faithful followers constantly bickered, killing one another, how could these acts be deemed righteous? for years, she had sat in the sept asking the gods to reveal answers, but none came. a veil of guilt shrouded her thoughts for entertaining such heretical notions, leaving her to ponder whether her father's maltreatment was somehow justifiable. her uncertainty deepened, threading uncertainty into the future she envisaged for her children, whom she hoped to raise in the worship of the old gods.
the eyrie's godswood provided the setting for the newly engaged first real meeting—an apt fusion of the old and new, a bridge between two belief systems that had yet to fully intertwine. a strange kinship settled within her as the ancient trees that should be watching over them, sharing her sense of a divided spirit.
"many attribute the statue to alyssa," she shared, a soft, knowing smile gracing her lips. "my mother was among those who believed it. strangely cruel, isn't it? to cast a statue of her weeping while she ceaselessly sheds tears over the giant's lance.you know the one name my father forbid my mother to name any of us was alyssa. he thought it would bring bad luck down upon them." a faint laugh colored her voice, but it was a laughter born of contemplation as the thought of her father caring for his own daughters. at least he didn’t curse them with bad luck.
as the topic shifted to the godswood's trees, rosalyn's gaze turned towards where the tree should be. "attempts have been made to transplant the heart tree here, but the very rocks seem to thwart the endeavor. an unfortunate pity, for i can only imagine the beauty it would bring to this sacred space," she mused, a yearning note in her tone. “i have read of the weiwood heart tree in the north many times in my books but have never seen one in person before. i am looking forward to seeing the one in winterfell.”
his next question, led to the briefest of pauses in her response. as she fashioned her reply, it could have been perceived as her merely searching for the right words or perhaps due to the intricacies of her needing to lipread. but deep within, she battled the impulse to reveal her innermost thoughts. yet, in this initial meeting as fiancés, restraint triumphed. "yes, i have been raised within the faith of the seven from infancy. within the vale, there are not many who veer from this path," she replied, maintaining her calm facade. her eyes met his gaze, a subtle challenge in her demeanor. "and you, i imagine you are a practitioner of the old gods. i've delved into texts, but true understanding often evades the confines of mere pages."
| a starter for @rosaaaryn | | time: flashback, year 2 | | setting: the day before their wedding, king owen stark and princess rosa arryn speak in the godswood of the eyrie |
They were betrothed once before. Back in a time before the dance. His father thought it would be a great way to unite their houses and their regions, before the dance. Before the war that came and dissolved most unions in favor of others or security. His father talked about it so often that when they weren’t fighting, he tried to avoid the man’s gruff words. And now he would do anything to hear those words again. Sons were meant to bury their fathers, didn’t make it hurt any less. He missed the man now, not half as much as he missed his mother, but he was close to his father. They spent so much of their time together that he often still found himself entering what was once his father’s office and sitting at the table instead of the desk only for Jon to tell him to move.
The godswood of the Eyrie wasn’t a godswood at all. The godswood contained no heart tree. Owen thought it more of a garden than a godswood and he looked forward to the day he would go home again. There was something more important than being homesick and it was securing his family, the royal line, and making alliances. Military and trade alliances and it was best to start close to home. They were once betrothed, years ago. They were quite different now, at least he felt different. Ten years on, war changed him and the crown he wore felt quite heavy.
“Princess Arryn, they say this statue is Alyssa Arryn.” Owen spoke as he walked up to the marble statue of the legendary woman. The crypts of Winterfell were filled with statues of Starks and their direwolves. The godswood of Winterfell didn’t hold any great statues or fountains, only the many trees, the small and cold pool at the ancient weirwood heart tree. “Our learned men say weirwoods can’t grow up here…” Owen didn’t know why he was speaking of the Gods. It seemed a good place to start.
“And you, you follow the way of the seven?”
More Posts from Rosaaaryn and Others
△ do you think your husband really would have chosen you as a bride over your sister, or was his hand forced?
△ - 3
“i do not deny my sister is beautiful and smart and talented. but i know my sister and i know my husband very well. i know they would have very likely torn each other apart if they were married. i not believe they would have chosen each other.” rosa leaned back in her seat, looking towards her son. a smile crossed the stark queen’s face. “my husband and i both agreed to the match. he did choose me.”
@ravellaarryns
kingarryn:
.
the falcon king was an utter mess. it felt as if his whole world was crumbling before him. the loss of his closest friend, his wife’s public banishment by her brothers, the antcipation of what the consequences of their marriage would mean for his kingdom… it was all too much for rowan arryn. the image of tyland lannister holding a knife to his sister’s throat was also still burned in his mind. he stomach turned into knots at the thought of the trauma his loved ones would be forced to carry from this night for the rest of their lives. he was to overwhelmed by his own grief and emotions that he wasn’t able to go to his youngest sister right away. it wasn’t until much later into the night did he find himself calm enough to make his way to her chambers.
he knocked softly on her door, knowing she would not be aware of the knocking unless she had a servant in the room to notify her. “thank you.” he said softly to the queen’s servants, nodding his head at them. waiting for them to leave the room, he made his way to where rosa sat. he bent down to on one knee, taking her hands into his own. “i’m sorry i did not tell you everything sooner.” he stated tenderly, “how do you fare?”
.
“i knew. i knew the first day you all arrived here at the north. ravella told me so. i was just waiting for you to share it with me.” rosalyn never wished to be angry at any of her siblings. especially not now, not when she hadn’t seen them all for so long. all of them were important, all of them being pulled in hundreds of different directions with different duties and responsibilities to maintain. still, she had missed her eldest brother dearly and it felt like she had yet to see him. maybe he was avoiding her, avoiding telling her the news or avoiding disappointment.
the new northern queen didn’t know what it was. whatever the reason was rosa was sure to forgive him. they all needed to be strong now. “i am shaken up. seeing daemon like that….the chaos of everything. the sword…” she paused, knowing she didn’t need to say more. everything happened in the blink of an eye. she had tried to take control of everything but there was too much happening. a small seed of disappointment was left inside of her that she could not help better. maybe she could have helped her brother and his new wife now. who’s to know? “and you rowan. how are you faring?”
tears flowed down the cheeks of the queen of winter. this couldn’t be. this simply could not be. there was always hope that one day their niece would be returned home safe. that one day soon she would be found amongst the mountain clans that took her and she would be returned back home to them. reading the letter her sister had given her broke her heart over and over again with each new word she read.
why would her sister allow her to read such a thing without warning? why not tell her herself to soften such a blow. perhaps she thought this would be easier…it was strange. but grief made everyone act strange. rosalyn’s hand clutched at her swelling stomach as she tried to process the news.
“rowan made me promise i would look after her.” she remembered back to the time when their family was whole. rowan holding his young daughter and making her swear to look after his daughter if anything happened to him. and now she had let him down. at least the guards who allowed it would also be punished. how they could lack in their duty to protect someone so innocent, so young. they needed to be punished.
“sister please,”rosalyn said looking over towards ravella who’s eyes had barely moved away from the window. “please sit with me, i need you.” she said reaching out her hand for her sister. gods only knew how different they were from one another, they always had been since they were little. but that never stopped the deep connection of love between them. rosalyn doubted very little could ever stop her from loving her sister.
who: @rosaaaryn where: the queens of winter and the mountains of the moon sit together within the private bedchambers of ravella within highgarden, upon the news of their niece’s murder being broken to the queen in the north. a corpse had been found, and identified as the late daughter of rowan arryn.
and the sound of the crying that seemed to come from the lips of her sister at the news was a sound that would once have caused something within her to stir, the way it did upon hearing the way rosalyn’s voice would break whilst having conversation within their father. never once had his favouritism of his eldest daughter gotten in the way of the sisterhood they shared. one that was not filled with affection from the queen of winter, but a level of tolerance that could only equate love.
“cry. you need cry. you can cry.”
and yet now, there was nothing as she stood by the window; she had not spoken the words directly to her sister, instead allowing her to read the letter that had been received to the queen directly. the small council had already been gathered, and she attempted to ignore the ways in which lord stone’s dark gaze looked upon her. somewhere along the way, it was decided that sacrifices would be needed to make the mountain stronger. the mountain needed to be fed, and falcons had lived in delusion for long enough. they were not untouchable. the mountain needed to be fed.
“the guards who allowed it were put to death by the lord commander.”
how was it people reacted to news of such grief? did they sob and sound like a wounded animal, pouring their hearts out into the void amidst the wracking of shoulders? no, that would be entirely undignified. but rosalyn would react in that way, considering she was entirely fond of the girl. the daughter of rowan arryn. weakness ran in blood, and thus so did the undoing of their realm. sacrifices needed to be made to make matters stronger again. sacrifices needed to be made to ensure there was no threat to her own legitimacy, apart from what lay between her legs.
L U C R E Z I A R E D W Y N E
“Because the woman spent her life caught between different roles, roles that clashed and caused mayhem and chaos and tears to her personal life, a clash that came more into play than it did for her male counterparts. ”
penned by bambi
@lucreziasredwyne
O M E R F L O R E N T
“his pride let him tell people they were fine because he wouldn’t shrink away. and she saved him. she always saved him. always.”
penned by quen
@omerflorent
D O R Y U M B E R
“he was even more excited to return to winterfell. he may have been an umber from the last hearth but winterfell had always been a home to him. ”
penned by maeve
@atychiphobiias
rank your siblings from least to most dramatic
a giggle left the northern queen as she thought about her siblings “my godness i think they are all dramatic in their own ways. i suppose if i had to say.... ravella for the least. then.... rhys, then rowan. i love my oldest brother but a secret marriage, how much more dramatic can one get?”
@ravellaarryns @falcxnprince @kingarryn
edricxstark:
Who: @rosaaaryn Where: Barrowtown
“Rose? I wanted to come check on you after all that happened. Those Lannisters are lunatics.” Edric entered the room and draped a blanket over his sister in law’s shoulders. “If I had the chance I would have run him through.” He hated how it seemed more and more like he couldn’t just ignore the problems surrounding them all. “How are you? And the baby?”
.
he chaos that happened that night was still so fresh within her mind. in a moment after things had settled enough she was whisked away back to her room by her guards and lady maids. all of them overly concerned at how she faired. would the lannister king have hurt her? surely if he wanted to he simply would have but…he didn’t. his concerns lay with his family. could she blame him for that? for wanting to keep his brother and sister safe? still the cold feeling of his sword on her neck was not one she would forget soon.
she only had a moment alone before her brother in law came to check up on her. pulling the blanket closer around her she nodded to his question. “i am okay… thank you.” she told him. “the baby is fine, kicking up a storm but not harmed in any way.” her mind wandered back to the lannisters, to gwen being threatened. to the news that everyone now knew. they were family now in a weird twisted way. “they aren’t lunatics…the lannisters. everything was just, chaotic. that’s all.”
M O R S M A R T E L L
“the only one able to handle this flame and perhaps calm it would be his wife, for who else could burn this bright as well? who could withstand his fire except someone made of it too. ”
penned by jd
@morsmartelll
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