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Post by Lynesse Daverhyl on Aug 22, 2019 5:17:47 GMT 1
I think there is great honour in a romantic and idealistic spirit ser, too many allow themselves to be sullied by the times. As long as we cling to such things as ideals to be strived for, and not circumstances that we can assume hold true in all cases, they are fine stars to navigate by.
The past is often a confounding mystery, all the more painful for our own mistakes and flawed judgements. Do not judge yourself too harshly, or measure your past self against standards no man in your circumstances could hope to meet. It sounds as though your mother loved you fiercely, and Ser Owyn had an eye to showing you the grimmer realities of the world. Such is often the role of a mother and father, doing their duty to their children and the gods. She remembered her own mother, who had sought to instil in Lynesse a rigid piety no more pragmatic than Trystane's idealism.
Regarding Laena, Lynesse considered Trystane’s offer of accompaniment, but considered it too great a risk, in part because the prospect of sharing a room with two of the King’s offspring was frightfully intimidating. “Thank you for your offer Tystane, but I shall strive for a quiet moment with her, rather than cultivate the perfect opportunity that may never come to pass. I shall speak true, and trust in the gods that Laena will hear my words as I intend, and not as I might mangle them in the telling.”
Hearing him call himself “her man” in the matter of Ser Roland sent a quiet thrill through Lynesse’s heart. To be trusted in such a way, by a man who had ample reason to distrust her, who she had wronged and assumed wrong of, was a heady thing.
“I am not sure Maester Ronnel could receive me, as things stand between myself and House Starkwood. Perhaps you could act as an intermediary with him? If you are willing to help with this, and make the task your own on my account, then it should not be a difficult thing to obtain a copy. You are a man of rank within House Starkwood, and the notes are intended as evidence to be shared, not a private missive to be withheld.”
At his crooked smile, she laughs, and her eyes flash with shared entertainment at the prospect he suggests, unwise as it would likely prove to be.
"I would not dream of stealing, as it could foster a deeper breach than already exists, but given our goal in the matter, Maester Ronnel should be amenable to such a request, coming from you. Once I have a copy of Ronnel’s findings, I can speak with my acquaintances in Oldtown without ruffling too many feathers or raising a fuss, and see which among them will confirm Ronnel’s evidence. Ser Roland's detractors then face the prospect of arguing with the Citadel, and not merely House Starkwood."
If it's ok, I’ll put a pin in further discussions of Laena for now, just so I can respond honestly in the concurrent thread with her.
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Post by Trystane Sand on Aug 23, 2019 0:33:25 GMT 1
That's absolutely fine. I think we covered what needed to be covered there anyway.
"Well, I am glad that you don't think me too much of a soft-hearted fool for my hopes of a better world," Trystane says with heartfelt smile. "I discussed chivalry recently with a few knights, Ser Roland included, and it gave me much to think on about how to make things better. Ser Owyn has also been a great guiding moral force for me. You are right, he was like a father to me where my own father was absent, and even if my father had been present, I do not think I would have received good life lessons from him. Ser Owyn showed me the harsher things in the world, but he made sure I did not fall to despair, selfishness, or apathy. "All that is required for evil to prevail is the inaction of the righteous," he used to say. Not that I'm claiming to be righteous," he adds. "One tries though."
He finds himself a little relieved when Lynesse insists on meeting Laena alone. While he would have absolutely been willing to mediate, escaping the inevitable tension of that conversation is welcome.
"Of course, my lady. I hope that the Crone's wisdom grants you the right words and guides them to their intended place."
He gives Bard's neck a little scratch as he ponders her words on how to approach Ronnel.
"I'd be happy to speak with him on the matter and get you his notes. He's a stuffy one at times, but I'm sure he'll be willing to share his findings. I must say I'm rather impressed that you would put your efforts to this cause. It could be so easy for someone in your situation to retreat into self-interest for survival, yet you would join this fight for truth to help someone else, potentially making enemies. It shows courage. I like it."
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Post by Lynesse Daverhyl on Aug 25, 2019 12:14:28 GMT 1
"My mother was fiercely pious, and had no patience for empty sentiments, judging them little better than lies. She always held than an apology meant little without an undertaking to change in the future." Lynesse reflected, her voice more nostalgic than melancholic. "Words are wind. She would always say, though I think she meant it in a different way than others oft do. I think she would have enjoyed your Ser Owyn, though some of the courtiers of Oldtown thought her cold and austere. Her standards were hard to meet, while she breathed, and seem to loom larger over me now that she does not."
She found his praise surprisingly encouraging, perhaps because it was not directed at her appearance, as was so often the case at feasts and tourneys, and perhaps because his opinion had come to mean more to her than most. "If I am to apologise for a significant slight, more than words are required, or else the gesture itself is empty. Let Lord Ulbert and Lady Allyria know my heart by my deeds, and find forgiveness if it is the gods' will."
"I am glad to hear you share counsel with Ser Roland, he seems an upright and gallant knight, though the road ahead of him seems perilous and unsure. Have you given more thought to your own future?" Lynesse asked, genuinely curious about his plans. "Many Lords are gathering their sworn swords and bannermen near them, strengthening alliances with marriages and oaths, fearing that the times ahead bring woe for us all. In such times, I would think many would see your value, as a man of his word, a knight of proven mettle, and Blood of the Dragon and of Sunspear. An exceedingly rare vintage, especially in the Reach."
She knew their time together was drawing near its end, and pulled lightly on her steed's reins, lest it take her too far from the camp.
I'm not sure whether getting these notes will actually be straightforward or not, OOC, you may need to check with Father.
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Post by Trystane Sand on Aug 27, 2019 3:21:21 GMT 1
"I am sorry about your mother. Were you close?"
Trystane realises that it might be too sensitive a subject.
"You needn't answer, of course, if I'm prying."
He can't help but give a wry smile as she describes him as a rare vintage.
"You are generous, my lady, in your assessment. I thank you. I didn't give much thought to my future before I left home. I was living very carefree, and in no hurry to choose a path for myself, except the pull to go out into the world and try to make an impression upon it. Even if I was certain of what I wanted now - which I am not, yet - the things likely needed to achieve it, the things that almost everyone needs if they want to achieve anything of note, are not yet in my grasp. I have no lands of my own and can offer little in the way of true political advantage. Being the son of a King is not as valuable when there are so many of us. Of course, I am working on making something better of myself, but aside from respectable performance in the lists, I am an unknown value to most. And while I may be, as you say, a rare sort, my Martell blood, and the effect it has on my complexion, is a rarity that is not terribly welcome in many people's minds."
He gives her a self-effacing smile.
"I suppose what I am sure of is that I want to secure a respectable place in the world and do some good. Set myself apart in character from my father. Find happiness and prosperity... perhaps even love, if the Gods see fit. Eventually leave this world in a slightly better state than I entered it. Not very tangible, I know, but when I search my heart, that is what matters most to me. Anything else is just decoration."
He turns the inquiry back onto her.
"What about you? If you did not have your uncle's schemes to worry about. If you had full control over your future, what would you want to do with it?"
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Post by Lynesse Daverhyl on Aug 31, 2019 3:35:46 GMT 1
Lynesse considered her departed mother, pursing her lips as she did.She was a hard woman to be close to in some ways. She was prickly and unrelenting, even with family. When the first lowborn woman came forward with accusations against my uncle Ser Rhys, my mother demanded he be gelded for his crimes, though of course Ser Rhys defending himself against such accusations in a trial by combat. This did not help the tensions between my father and his half-brothers,” Lynesse noted, understating the severity of the familial enmity.
But I am thankful to have had her as my mother in ways that are difficult to express. Others thought her a cold fish for her severity and piety, but this was not so. She loved the arts, my father, and myself. She encouraged me in the arts, which is common throughout the Reach, and in reading widely, which is not. She could quote holy writ like a Septa, and recite verse like a bard. Her humour was always sharp and dry, like the thrust of a longsword.
She considered his own stated goals, both lofty and humble. In truth she thought he could accomplish much, and aim for concrete advancement, if he were to make himself more known at court. in a variety of circles. Great Bastards were the symbols of power and authority throughout the Reach in this day, and affiliation with them was readily worth the investment of land or the hand of a noble daughter, doubly so for a Prince of Dorne. “The legitimised children of Aegon,” Lynesse tip-toed around the word Bastard, “have shown that they are whatever they can show themselves to be. Consider Ser Daeron, no more than a sworn sword, and yet recognised by all the Reach as Lord Eldon’s sworn rival.
“Men will take you for granted because of your bloodline, as if that is all you are. There are Lords in the Reach with a thousand friends in Dorne, and to they you are but one more, to be paid in smiles and coppers. There are Lords in the Reach with few friends in Dorne, and to them you are that rare vintage. If you seek social advantage, and the friendship of the powerful, you may find it in unlikely places. "
“By no means am I encouraging you to emulate Wildfyre,” Lynesse clarified herself quickly, “but do not allow yourself to be taken for granted. Do not leave it to others to decide whether you are a bastard of Dorne, or a Prince of the Realm.”
When she asked about her own idle dreams, she paused, realising the question was far harder to answer than it appeared at face value, “It is hard to imagine what full control of my future would feel like, to be freed of obligations and threats. The simple, honest goals of happiness, love, and virtue appeal to me greatly. I think perhaps I would like to travel, to see the great courts and septs of westeros, for I have read much of them in books, but travelled only a little beyond the Honeywine until recent days. I think I would likely be drawn into the problems and suffering of others, for it is not in my nature to enjoy leisure while others toil and suffer, but I cannot imagine the specifics.
But that is another life, I think, one that is further away than the horizon, and receding, rather than approaching, like a dream upon waking, or one’s early days of childhood.
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Post by Trystane Sand on Sept 13, 2019 2:23:40 GMT 1
"It sounds like you learned a lot from your mother. Teaching you to seek knowledge will do you credit when you come to be the Lady of a House."
He is careful not to specify which House, though he dearly hopes it is not the one her uncle currently steers her towards.
"I am sorry that she is no longer with you. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to lose a parent that one loves."
He tries not to think about how it will feel to mourn his own mother.
If you don't get yourself killed first.
"Ser Daeron is a good and honourable knight, and I am glad to call him my brother. Though I am not sure setting himself apart as the sworn enemy of Lord Merryweather has done him any good. I suppose I'm not in a position to criticise though, as I'm sure I'd do the same if I was as good a fighter as him."
He nods along slowly as she advises him about making himself more in demand at court.
"I will take your advice to heart, my lady. Perhaps I am being too modest for my own good. That having been said, those in the Reach who have few Dornish friends often do so by design. If you know of anyone who is looking to befriend a Dornish Great Bastard though, do let me know," he added with a playful wink.
Her answer to his question makes him smile warmly at her, and the small, delicate spring bloom of his affection opens up a little more.
"I think those sound like fine dreams. And not just because I share them. You seek to broaden your horizons where others are content to only see the familiar. I find that rather beautiful. And I think it is a good thing to have compassion for others, even if, as you say, it can drag you into their suffering. For how can we solve suffering or injustice unless we are willing to walk beside it and understand it? We can't fix everything, of course, but the very fact that you would want to help at all is far more than many people in your position would."
His admiration was plain in his face, though her resignation in describing her dreams as another life knit his brow in thought, and he turned his head forward again before addressing her words on the matter, albeit in a cautious tone, and very, very quietly.
"My lady, it is not for me to say, but those dreams are not so far away as you fear. Not truly. The real problem is that to achieve them requires great sacrifice. While your uncle does hold much influence over you, and he is steering you down a particular path, it is not the only one available to you. Take one of your chief obstacles at the moment - not having a say in who he chooses for you to marry. He can't actually force you to say the words. Even if he threatened you at swordpoint, any words you said under such duress would be invalid in the eyes of the law and the Gods. Your uncle won't go further than threats because you are seen as a resource, so you still have time to either escape him by marrying someone else of your own choosing, or escaping him in the more literal sense. Of course, the latter would likely mean having to flee further than he is prepared to chase you, which is an unknown factor, but probably involves going across the Narrow Sea. And in the case of the former, you can take the choice out from under him if you plan carefully, and if the man you choose can protect you long enough to either obtain or forge your father's blessing, but it means sacrificing your security temporarily. Both paths mean sacrificing your current life as you know it, but you must weigh them up yourself and decide if it is worth it to have a future that is truly yours."
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Post by Lynesse Daverhyl on Sept 21, 2019 12:33:11 GMT 1
"I can stall my uncle for a time, and seek to conjure some alternative match as well, but if you think he cannot force me to say the words, then you still underestimate him Trystane," Lynesse sighed darkly, "all he needs to is discreetly force me to choose between my own happiness and something more valuable, like my brother's life, my faith or my family honour. But you are right, there is time yet, and I will make use of it to find a surer, sweeter path."
"I hope you will not mind if I keep an ear to the ground on your behalf, should opportunities arise befitting a gallant young knight of esteemed breeding, for I can hardly make use of them myself," she giggled lightly, "and I shall wait to hear from you regarding Maester Ronnel, for I would not leave that wound to fester longer than need be."
She smiled, with a heady mixture of conflicting empotions she would likely need days to sort through in her own mind, "You have been good to come and speak to me Trystane, but our time is almost done, and I must leave a candle burning in the Sept for Ser Eoric, for the maesters are not sure if he will last the night, and I would not have the Stranger call on him for want of my prayers."
[Likely /scene for me, as there are now so many other irons in the fire]
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Post by Trystane Sand on Sept 22, 2019 3:38:19 GMT 1
Stranger take that foul toad.
Trystane only smiles, choosing not to engage with her prayers for Ser Eoric as they round their horses to return to the pavilions.
"Your piety does you credit. And you are kind to offer your matchmaking skills, my lady, but you need not go to any trouble on my account. I know you have many more pressing concerns to contend with. It has been a pleasure to ride with you though, and I hope we will see one another again soon, one hopes in happier circumstances."
[Yeah that's fine.]
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