seffora-merryweather

[seffora-merryweather]

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 hadn't want to come to the westerlands. she was anxious enough about travelling to begin with, worsened by the fact her last excursion from winterfell had seen the disappearance of not one, but two stark sisters. she had hated leaving winterfell, hated every moment of the journey south to casterly rock, and now she was here, could not imagining summoning a false smile and making idle chatter with people she did not wish to see.

until she set eyes on seffora merryweather.

the friendship between them had been forged in a time of great sorrow for seffora. when she had left the north, dacey had half expected to never hear from her again, that the prospect of her company would be a painful reminder. how happy she had been to be wrong. seffora approached her through the crowd, and it was good to see a smile on her face and a light in her eyes.

"oh, seffora," dacey skipped any sense of formality, reaching her arms out to envelop her friend in a tight, but brief hug. perhaps this trip would be better than the last, even if only because she would be in the company of someone she cared for. "look how well you look!" there was only affection in her tone as she spoke. "we must catch up. i want to hear everything."

#dacey: 01 #plot drop: the heir of casterly rock

[seffora-merryweather]

IMOGEN WATERHOUSE AS JINNY ST. GEORGE THE BUCCANEERS SEASON ONE EPISODE FIVE

#seffora: picture #her smile is the cutest

[seffora-merryweather]

Closed starter for @daceystvrk Setting: Casterly Rock, the Westerlands.

The Lady of Longtable had chosen to ride the last few miles on horseback rather than in the carriage. Casterly Rock was a most imposing keep, a place Seffora had never visited in the past, and the scenery around the Lion King's castle was much too beautiful to see only through a window. She entered the courtyard escorted by her loyal guards, followed by the small retinue of people who travelled with her from her homeland.

Seffora looked around as she dismounted, seeing people from all the regions had been arriving on this very day as well. She Dornish, Riverlands and North banners. Her eyes landed on the Starks. The Starks who remained. The young lady had experienced some of the worst hardships of her life while in the North, and yet she had found solace and companionship in Princess Dacey. The princess had managed to be such a compassionate presence during it all, and that was something Seffora would forever be grateful for.

The Merryweather lady separated herself from her kin for a moment, walking over to the Stark princess as she removed her riding gloves. “Dacey!” the lady called as she weaved through the crowd of newly arrived guests, heading towards the Northern woman. A soft smile spread across her lips as she caught her friend's eye. She dared address her informally only because of the bond of friendship that had forged between them while the realms were hosted in the North, and the closeness that continued after that, even if only through letters at times. “Gods, it's so good to see you”.

#dacey: 01 #plot drop: the heir of casterly rock

[seffora-merryweather]

“The lady does not need her companions to do everything for her,” she stated back with a playful smirk, all too familiar with the highfalutin manner of the Prince of the Vale. She knew that side of him all too well. “Even less when it's something the lady wishes to do herself”. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that her guards stepped closer, possibly to offer an apology —to her, to the prince, perhaps— for what had been pointed out as a shortcoming of sorts. “Alles gut,” she stated kindly, looking over her shoulder. Seffora would not reprimand them for something that she'd chosen to do herself.

Seffora had known of his illness, of course, as it was the reason he'd been kept away in Braavos to begin with. Rhys never detailed much in the letters he sent back, as he didn't detail much of anything, truth be told. His sparse words and his sparse messages were something she attributed to his ill state, after all. He looked healthy now. He had to be healthy enough to return to Westeros, which was a surprise and a blessing she welcomed with an open heart.

“I have been well. Little flowers do grow, after all,” she replied with a gentle smile, hands clasped together before her. Against all of her father's predictions, Seffora had not been trampled by a world that was too harsh, too complex, too brutal for a daughter Serwyn Merryweather had always deemed much too soft, not clever enough, not skilled enough to make it in the world of politics. Seffora was managing to flourish, at last. “Please, you must not call me by my title. It's much too formal, Rhys,” she grinned and finally gave in to the impulse to go over and embrace him.

Gods, it was good to see him again.

the little flower of longtable had long had a place in rhys' life that he could never quite explain. it were one of the few, dear friendships that he valued in his life. the former spymaster of the vale, though few knew of this title, had always kept others at an arm's length. for he were a prince of house arryn, the rulers of the andals and the first men, a proud and ancient lineage that somehow he find himself not quite fitting in at all. where his sister manage to piece herself into the picture of the family perfectly, his edges were jagged, rough, discarded to the side. in reality he imagined ravella had cut away pieces of herself in order to fit within. rhys was unsure if he would've preferred her way, or his, in hindsight.

despite this, seffora had never treated him any differently, though there were a certain line that was not crossed due to his station. she had always treated him as who he was, saw beyond the facade he presented, and it made him feel guilty for not having been as keen to respond in a timely manner to her letters as she was to his. it were not purposeful, or malicious, but perhaps deep down it were a calculated move. if he were to perish, it were one less loose end he left to fray upon his death.

brows rose as the lady herself fetched his cane to return to him, and a soft chuckle escaped him. "well, i certainly did not intend for the lady to crouch down in the streets of king's landing, now." he stated in a pompous manner, that was not out of the norm for him, while he shot a look at her guards. weren't men of the reach suppose to be the embodiment of chivalry? rhys always thought the knights of the vale were much better suited for a title. flowers were easily trampled, but falcons flew mighty.

the falcon prince reached for his cane in order to step forward towards the lady, a genuine grin coming over his face. "yes, well, i am certainly regretting not getting a hair cut before coming here." he squinted as he gazed upwards at the sun high in the sky. "you look well, little flower, or should i say, the ruling lady of longtable?"

#rhys: 09

[seffora-merryweather]

IMOGEN WATERHOUSE AS JINNY ST. GEORGE THE BUCCANEERS SEASON ONE EPISODE SEVEN

#seffora: picture

[seffora-merryweather]

There had been letters exchanged after Rhys departed to Braavos, as it was in her nature to write to the falcon prince since she was but a girl. As the sentimental type, Seffora had kept every letter she ever received from her oldest of friends, all safely kept in a small chest stored inside her wardrobe. The penmanship had evolved with time and that was what the lady loved about that collection of written parchments, seeing the evolution of the notes sent by childhood friends to the beautiful letters sent by the more mature individuals they'd become.

So yes, there had been letters. But there had also been periods of silence in which Seffora dreaded Rhys had been taken by his illness until a new missive arrived as a testament that he still lived. No letter had been sent to let her know he intended to return to Westeros, however, and so when she saw in the streets of King's Landing she froze for a moment. For a few heartbeats, Seffora believed her mind was playing a trick on her, that it was just someone who strikingly resembled the falcon prince. It was Rhys Arryn. She would have recognized him anywhere.

“Entschuldigung. Geben Sie mir einen Moment”. Excuse me. Give me a moment, she murmured to her retinue of guards and accompanying ladies from Longtable. The Merryweather lady gathered the skirt of her dress in a hand and walked over towards the prince, reaching down to pick up the cane that had been flung out of his grasp.

She was still somewhat shocked to see him, yet after a moment her expression shifted entirely. Green eyes gleamed with joy and a warm smile graced Seffora Merryweather's lips. She had a tendency to remark on what physical differences she noted whenever they reunited as kids, as teens, as young adults. Once, she had joked how he had finally gotten taller than her when puberty did its work. “Huh. Your hair looks longer, Rhys,” she said with a soft grin.

setting : the streets of king's landing, just outside of the tournament grounds, the prince of the eyrie has returned to westeros and begins to reacquaint himself with these lands ; open starter (2/3)

he had not been gone long, but it seemed at the same time that he was gone for a lifetime, with all that had changed since his departure to braavos. though rhys arryn possibly looked different in subtle ways, hair a tad longer than before, gait a bit lankier, less balanced as evidenced by the cane clutched in his grasp, he was very much the prince he once was, that was, except for the fact he did not seek to reclaim any power, did not want to be anything beyond what he was. if his time in braavos revealed anything to him, it was that holding the weight of the crown upon one's shoulders was not what the falcon prince had ever wanted, or would ever want again. perhaps the illness that afflicted him was some blessing in disguise.

in truth, he never intended to return, at least, not in this manner. he knew the consequences that his presence may bring, and rhys did not want his sister to bear that worry. he would take whatever measures he could to assure anyone that he rejected his claim - that he fully supported his sister. some would whisper that he is weak, to decline his duty, but rhys never really cared what was said of him. ravella, the one who bore the brute nature of their father most harshly, had fully earned her place on the throne.

walking upon cobblestone paths, pace slower than that of the other lords and ladies he passed, eyes squinted as he observed the sight around him in the glaring sun. this place still stunk, he did not recognize where most around him hailed from, it seemed anywhere and everywhere, and to the right of him he looked what seemed to be a peasant child running past with a very nice shoe. "interesting." he murmured to himself.

the prince made to move, placing his cane before him first to preserve his balance, but as he moved to set it before him so he may walk, another passed by and knocked it out of his hand entirely. he dropped his hand, orbs looking to the other person with an entirely blank face. he gestured to the cane on the floor now. "would you mind helping a poor cripple, and retrieve that for me?"

#rhys: 09

[seffora-merryweather]

Laena was a blessing in her life, and Seffora didn't take her for granted. Idealistic and naïve as she'd always been, the young lady had grown up believing she would have her sisters with her always, despite the distance, despite the wars. It felt like young women like them would never become a target because of their goodness, and she'd foolishly trusted that they would hold on to each other to go through hardships together. War did take Sienna, even if it had been a war of her own making. And Sofina had fought an internal battle on her own, a fight that her own body didn't allow her to win. In having lost those tethers to her girlhood, to her idealistic and bright image of the future; having Laena still was a precious gift. And so whatever her dear friend, her cousin, would ever ask for, Seffora felt she would be inclined to give. She was not being too kind, as Laena said. She was afraid deep down, and she clung to what she had left with tender fierceness.

When Laena motioned for them to walk together in the gardens, the Lady of Longtable happily fell into step with her. “If you can think of anyone else who would like to play a part in this, they will be welcomed,” she assured her cousin, finding a more lighthearted feeling building inside of her. The prospect of a hopeful future —and the work she was putting into making that a reality for her people— filled with a sense of bubbling, warm joy. “They will find Longtable welcomes them warmly for their kind support”. As ruling lady, she would see to it. Every helping hand would be compensated, every helping hand would be embraced in her home.

“I'd very much like to see you both here more often. And please know, Laena, should you ever wish to make Longtable your home, you have a place there,” she added with a grin, her voice determined in her offering but also joyous. Her family wasn't really all gone. Laena, right here by her side, was a testament to that.

“I am well,” she responded after a moment's thought. She had her worries, of course, and the insecurities about her place in the world still crept up from time to time. “I am in a discovery process of so much, and that excites me,” she mused, for she'd enjoyed having her horizons broaded since she was little. The world had opened up in so many ways when the title of ruling lady fell on her. It was a burden but also an honor, it was a huge responsibility but also her greatest tool to dictate her own path. “And when I'm at that point, of feeling I've learned more, or accomplished something— big or small, sometimes I start wondering if my father would be proud of me, to see how I've grown. But that thought stops, after a moment and I think instead of Sofina. She's the one who always encouraged me, the one who quieted down my self-doubt. And so I think that she is the one who would truly be proud of me. She would feel proud to see that I'm more than what my father intended,” she spoke with unequivocal tenderness in her voice, with the sort of love that death hadn't taken away. “That's when I know I'm truly well, truly happy. When I feel how proud she'd be”. There was a soft smile across her lips before she glanced towards Laena. “Sorry, I'm rambling. But you know, I wish you two had known each other better. You would have loved each other”.

seffora had always been a calm presence ever since their youth, though she did not see the other as often as she liked, reuniting as ladies of the former queen was a nice step in getting back in touch with her cousins in longtable. even the words the two women spoke were in the old tongue of longtable - which was what laena's grandmother spoke with her most often. the silver haired woman returned the other's bright smile, and suddenly whatever anxieties she felt on her shoulders drifted away, at least for now.

"that would be wonderful, seffora." she replied, shoulders visibly relaxing as her hands slipped from the others. she gestured for seffora to walk the gardens with her so the women could continue speaking whilst admiring the flowers. "i can certainly do that. i have other friends i think might volunteer their time." and momentarily she thought of anya - wondering if any widow should be interested in smithing, she would likely be happy to help as she could.

she kept in stride with the golden haired woman, who's demeanor always exhibited her kind spirit. laena felt a sense of pride in her cousin, not quite knowing details directly from her, but knowing what she has endured from word of mouth, and yet she seemed to hold onto all resolve, hold herself up well, and take the helm of ruling lady with grace. "you're too kind. i'm looking forward to visiting again, and if you do not mind i'm sure my lady grandmother would be happy to accompany me as well." she added with a grin. "aside from this, are you well?" she inquired, tone exuding a sense of empathy for the other.

#laena: 03

[seffora-merryweather]

Closed starter for @lucreziasredwyne Setting: Following the return of the Reach court to their land, the news of Garland Hightower's passing has been made widely known.

A part of her had taken a breath of relief. A breath of satisfaction even. The Lady of Longtable was glad to hear that Garland Hightower had met his end. It was a cruel thought, she knew. It was the sort that Seffora Merryweather didn't allow herself to conjure up in her mind often lest a guilty feeling began to gnaw at her. But there was history between her house and that of the lords of Oldtown. Not old history, even, but history she remembered herself all too well, for she had witnessed as it happened. The siege of her home. The attacks. The killings of some that bore the Merryweather name. The very reason she'd not grown up side by side with her sisters, but warded in Goldengrove for protection.

So Seffora knew that had it been within her possibilities, she would have wielded a blade against the late Lord of Oldtown herself. She would have sunken it in his gut and twisted it, just as she did against that Northern brute many moons ago. Self-defense, it had been then. Well, retribution was another form of delayed self-defense too. The preservation of what remained of her house by making things right. Alas, the honor of bringing down such a man wasn't hers. Still, she had taken a breath of relief.

Seffora sought Lucrezia, though. The Mistress of Ships had offered such gentle comfort when the young lady of Longtable dealt with the turmoil of Sienna's actions. It was only right to return the favor now, to offer comfort even if she had not the same sort of tender wisdom for Lucrezia. The Merryweather lady cared not for the dead man, but she did care deeply for the one woman she knew would feel some of the ripples of grief. The Redwyne lady had lost both an aunt and a cousin, after all.

“Lady Lucrezia?” the Ruling Lady of Longtable asked as she walked the last steps into a solar in Highgarden. She'd asked around where she might find Lucrezia, and had been directed here. “Apologies for being a disturbance, my lady,” Seffora offered in a kind voice, not even questioning whether or not she was. She had to be, stepping into one of those quiet moments of grief. “I understand if you don't wish for any company now, but I wanted to offer it all the same. You have been there for me in difficult times— a special kindness I will never forget,” she said, letting out a soft breath as she stood by the room's entrance. “I am sorry for your loss,” she said sincerely. Seffora was truly sorry for what Lucrezia had lost, not for who had been lost. “If there is anything that I can do... if I can perhaps grant even a small fraction of the comfort you've given me before, know that I will gladly offer it”.

#lucrezia: 03

[seffora-merryweather]

“Indeed. That is one of the reasons I wish to establish a good connection with you and your lands, Lord Lucca,” she said, and it was a reason why she'd been working on doing the same with Goldengrove, Cider Hall, and Ashford. Proximity to those places was her home's ally. The other reason she'd reached out to Lucca Tyrell in particular, was a more personal wish to work together with a man she respected and cared for. To perhaps play a role in the growth of his own people and lands as well.

“So it is, my lord. I remember the same was true for my sister Shireen. I'd blink, and she'd be grown,” the Lady of Longtable replied. “It is lovely to experience baby's first months, their first year, but I assure you it's another wonder in itself to see them grow as children, start seeing the little peculiarities of their personalities,” she offered the young father with a warm smile.

Calling a different place a home was something Seffora could relate to. She'd experienced that after moving to Goldengrove to be a ward to Lord Tirius, then going to Highgarden to serve Florence as a lady-in-waiting, and now finding herself back in Longtable to truly reclaim that place as a home in her heart and mind. “I hope you continue to find those little things that make it easier to call this place your home. Or that you may choose what you want to carry over from Highgarden to make the adjustment easier,” she said in return, a kind gleam in her eyes as the pair walked.

As he asked about her own experience being a new ruling lady, Seffora's lips curved into a small smile, the softness mixed with a determined expression. “It's been an adjustment as well, in so many ways,” she admitted, for the life she had before was radically different from the duties and responsibilities she now proudly carried. “It's been a learning experience, but I can count myself lucky with the group of advisors and counselors I've gathered in the last few months. I've been learning to trust my gut as well, trust my intellect and my own skills. I wasn't too encouraged to do so in the past, so I believe that to be one of the biggest changes I've faced”. There was a brief pause, a thoughtful look. “I'm studious, even if I might not look it,” she added, for a moment bringing forth notions she'd taken to heart thanks to her father, “I enjoy the process of learning. Of educating myself on being better at what my people need me to be”.

it feels as though it has been ages since he's laid eyes on lady seffora, though really it has only been a matter of a few moons. but honestly being in her presence is something he craves so deeply, it almost feels as though something is missing within him when she is not present. and gods, the way her smile lights up the entire encounter.

"i believe the same, my lady," lucca replies with a smile. "and with how close we are in proximity, the flow of goods will be constant." he begins leading her down the path, through the gates, and up to the castle. guards open the doors for them, allowing them to walk up the steps through the giant double doors.

"i have been quite well, actually. as have the boys. it seems as though they're growing at a rate i can hardly keep track of anymore," he chuckles. "it's been an adjustment, getting used to calling starpike home, but it's really grown on me." nothing would ever compare to the rolling hills of highgarden, but starpike has its own charms. "but enough about me. how have you been? how is it, being ruling lady of longtable?"

#lucca: 06

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora took the lord's hand as she descended from her carriage, and after letting go, she continued to feel the ghost of his touch on her skin. It was the sort of thought that she knew she should not entertain too much, for it meant she was allowing matters of the heart to begin to seep into matters that were to be entirely political. It was hard not to attribute some special meaning to this reunion, though, especially with the way the Tyrell lord smiled at her.

“I was honored by it, Lord Lucca. I sincerely believe Longtable and Starpike have much to offer to one another, and that our people can greatly benefit from a close relationship between the two,” the Merryweather lady said with a sincere smile, looping her arm with his and gathering her skirt with her free hand as she let Lucca guide her into his home.

“How have you been, my lord? I hope both you and your children have been in good health,” Seffora added, pleasantly aware of the closeness as the two of them walked together. What a reassuring and calming presence he was, rather than nerves the Tyrell lord inspired a sort of ease within her that Seffora deeply appreciated.

lucca doesn't mention a word of it to anyone else, but in truth he is counting down the days for the lady seffora's arrival. and thank the gods she arrives just on time, or the lord would surely begin to worry that something horrible had happened on her travels. but no, he is quickly made aware that a traveling party carrying merryweather banners has made its way into their lands. within moments, lucca and his guards and various attendants are making their way to the gates.

as the doors to her carriage open, the tyrell lord offers a hand for seffora to take. he helps to guide her down the short stairs, making sure she safely makes her way down. "my lady," he greets in return, not hiding the bright grin that quickly takes over his features. "and i thank you for accepting my invitation," he replies, still grinning. "i hope your travels were pleasant."

with her safely on the ground, lucca offers his arm to her. "come, let me show you inside?"

#lucca: 06

[seffora-merryweather]

#my precious girl #seffora: picture

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora smiled at the other woman, holding the past in her heart with a smile on her face. It had been a good time, hadn't it? Florence's nature eventually was revealed but for a time, having been a lady-in-waiting by Laena's side had been a period in which the Merryweather lady had been truly happy. After their embrace, the Lady of Longtable held her friend's hand for a moment, cherishing this meeting.

She'd always known her friend to be a woman, and this was further proved by Laena's readiness to offer her help as Seffora spoke of the situation of the widows of Longtable. She glanced at her friend, a most skilled tailor and seamstress, and appreciated deeply that she was willing to share her skill with others who could benefit from her craft. “I'd very much like to host you in Longtable for that, Laena,” she began, “Your own supplies you keep for your work, please. I can arrange to have the necessary materials for the workshop if you can help to make a list of everything that would be needed”.

It was such a selfless gesture that Laena wished to volunteer her time and efforts for this. She was a most hardworking woman, and what it meant to give away work for free was something that Seffora didn't take for granted. “You shall want for nothing when you're at my home, my friend. I will host you at the castle and you will be granted anything you need and wish for,” Seffora offered with a grateful smile appearing on her lips. Once more, she reached for Laena's hand, offering a gentle squeeze. How blessed she felt, to continue to have great women in her life that continued to support her and lend a helping hand.

laena smiled warmly as seffora rushed towards her, embracing her in a tight hug. It had been too long since they last saw each other, and laena cherished their friendship just as much as seffora did. "and you." her words rang with a sense of nostalgia, so much had changed since she was last in the reach, but she was glad that the close connection she had formed with the now ruling lady of longtable remained as it once was, at least so it seemed, she hoped. "seffora." she added with a faint grin.

as they began to walk together, laena's expression grew serious in response to seffora's mention of the widows of longtable. she listened attentively, understanding the urgency and compassion behind her friend's words. "yes, that is what i have come to know." she stated. "and i hope to offer my skillset to aid these women." though laena was no targaryen by name, no noble woman by birth, she knew very well what the hardships of war brought upon. her very own somset lay in near ruin, being rebuilt as they spoke.

"i'd like to host a sort of workshop for those interested in learning my craft. i have connections for those who hone it well to gather clientele of their own." laena paused, giving seffora a chance to absorb her proposal. "i'm afraid i don't have terribly much to offer in terms of supplies, but if you accept my offer, i'd gladly volunteer my time to help." before the war, to help those who needed it was something she hoped to achieve, especially when she was elevated to an entirely different position, only it wasn't such a simple feat at the time. now, however, things were different, and laena had a sort of independence she acquired before she was lady in waiting to the former queen.

#laena: 03 #back to immy we are; we can all pretend she's always looked this way lol

[seffora-merryweather]

fmk: lucca, mathis, cas

“Oh, we're doing this?” the Lady of Longtable stated with a playful eye roll. It was such a nosy question, but it was also quite unserious, so Seffora played along. “I would wed Lord Lucca, lay with Lord Mathis, and kill the River King,” she answered, not taking the situation seriously at all. Only one of her responses held any sincerity in them.

( @luccatyrelll, @ofgoldengrove & @casimirtully )

#seffora: answered #( lucca tyrell ) #( mathis rowan ) #( casimir tully )

[seffora-merryweather]

Closed starter for @luccatyrelll Setting: Following their correspondence, Lady Seffora Merryweather travels to Starpike to meet with Lord Lucca Tyrell to discuss matters of a trade alliance between their lands.

A small council of sorts, echoing the honored practice of the Ding of ancient times, had been established in Longtable. In her absence her trusted Rowan advisors remained as the head of her land, carrying out the lady's orders and continuing work on the endeavors she began for her community. Seffora, as agreed, had made her way to Starpike to meet with its lord.

Upon descending from her carriage, the Tyrell lord and a small retinue of guards and attendants were present for her arrival. “My lord,” Seffora greeted with a polite curtsy, an affectionate smile inevitably gracing her lips as she met Lucca's eyes. Gods, a part of her wished she could just throw her arms around him and greet him more warmly, but as ruling nobles, there was protocol to follow, even more so with some eyes on them. “I thank you kindly for the invitation to come”.

#lucca: 06 #back to immy we are; we can all pretend she's always looked this way lol

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora blinked twice and nodded once the Mistress of Ships indicated it shouldn't be her who brought up the topic with Lord Lucca. It would be unbecoming, she imagined. Come off in a way the young lady didn’t wish it to be. She was the only living Merryweather, save for her sweet Shireen residing at Horn Hill with her father’s widow. Who was there for her, to see to her best interests and guide her through it all? Not long ago, the answer to such a question would have been ‘No one’. But in Lord Tirius she had found something akin to a father who aided in political matters of Longtable, and in Lucrezia, she continued to find someone kind-hearted and empathetic, who seemed to look after her almost like an older sister might.

If it happened so, that her life might be joined to Lucca’s, it was important to have questions asked such as the one that the Redwyne lady posed. If anything, Seffora was glad that the other lady wished to speak so candidly with her. “If I were to marry Lord Lucca, I would protect Niccolo and Arren as my own. They’ve lost a mother already, and I wouldn’t wish to bring any discord or suffering into their lives. They are Tyrells and they have rights and claims as Lucca’s children,” the lady answered in truth. “Any children I might have won't contest that. Any children I bear will stand in line for Longtable and Longtable alone”. As children with Merryweather blood, it was the only right Seffora could grant them. It was the only right she wished for them, really, to continue with the traditions that began with the Herzogs and Herzogins of old.

Seffora considered Lucrezia's words carefully, weighing in everything that entailed having her name spoken to Lucca as a possible prospect. Her answer had to go beyond caring companionship, compatibility, or infatuation. The Merryweather lady had a certain feeling that she could be happy at Lucca's side, something that she hadn’t truly felt before. It was a powerful thing, to consider there could be something truly good in her future. That perhaps she could be that for the heir of the Reach as well. He was an heir, though, and while chances of him ruling over the Reach were slim as the Tyrell king would surely have children sooner rather than later, the possibility was there. A possibility that terrified her, frankly. Seffora didn’t think she had the makings of a queen in any way, but then again, she never thought she had the makings of a ruling lady and here she was. Growing into her role. Learning to do as best as she could. And she was not alone.

The lady smiled gently and after a moment of consideration, she nodded. “I’d like that, yes,” she said, feeling both uncertain and confident as she replied. Seffora knew she would probably never feel fully certain about anything, that it was in her nature to question herself. Her strength, perhaps, came from continuing to learn to speak and act despite that uncertainty. “I’d be most grateful if you’d do that, my lady”.

seffora-merryweather​:

Seffora offered an honest smile to the Lady of the Arbor. Perhaps she didn’t need to speak such words, but she hadn’t uttered them because they were needed. She’d only spoken from the heart. Because that was the thing: not everyone was a decent soul as Lucrezia Redwyne was. So in a way, the Lady of Longtable thought it only right to recognize such kindness.

It felt like a sort of unspoken pact that had simply begun to form between both women, to speak in truth and speak in kindness, even if the words that were said weren’t always easy to speak. It began right as Seffora approached Lucrezia that day after a council meeting, and it appeared to continue now. The Mistress of Ships had flustered some, and it became Seffora’s turn to feel a subtle blush come over her cheeks as she admitted to the lady who was the potential match she had been considering.

The ruling Lady of Longtable knew how it might seem —having her sights on the heir of the Reach, but she also trusted in her own nature to shine and make evident her thought process wasn’t tied to political ambition. It was a matter of politics at the end of the day, yes, because of her standing and her title. But it wasn’t just politics, which was why she dared to bring it up to Lucrezia before anyone else. “That is all I could wish for in a partner, truly. Someone willing to stand by my side and protect me as I would protect him. And I would protect his children as well— Oh, they are lovely children,” she added with a gentle smile, a warm feeling in her chest at the thought of those adorable babes and the way Lucca treasured them both.

“He had a wife he loved dearly. I don’t want to presume he might be looking to marry again anytime soon, or that I would be his choice, so… I don’t know,” she admitted, her shoulder rising in a half-shrug. “If there’s any inkling he might touch the subject, I would address it. Otherwise, I’m not certain I would dare to mention it to him first, if I’m honest”. It was pathetic to admit that, perhaps. A ruling lady ought to be assertive and determined in her choices and her wishes. “Oh, gods. Who knows?” she leaned her head back, laughing a little. 

“I’ll pray I can gather my courage and let him know that I would gladly unite our lives, if he’d have me”. Yes, it was definitely not just politics. It was a chance at happiness, she could feel it, for she felt it when Lucca and her were in the same room. Some nervousness was there as well as some fear of rejection at the mere thought of talking to the heir about it. But there was something that was very clear in the Merryweather lady’s mind. “I would hate to let an opportunity for a bright future pass”.

∞

truthfully, there was an element of pity lucrezia felt towards the younger woman of house merrywetaher, who would now remain responsible for ruling the lands of longtable entirely on her own shoulders. there was an enormous amount of history and weight to those lands considering the recent activities of the dance, and the people of longtable were incredibly persevering; rising time and time again. "you should not mention it yourself to him, no." she spoke, her tone not demanding, or seeming as though she knew best; she paused in her tracks slightly. "these writers, whoever they are, seem to be listening to all sorts, as though they are within the damned walls. they would twist your intentions to something entirely unbecoming."

all knew of what the greens had done to longtable, garland specifically whilst commanding the hightower legion in the reach; she looked pointedly upon the face of the woman, almost trying to suss out whether there still remained any tensions, any festering hate that could become a problem in later years. all she saw looking back was an honest smile, and notions of naivety and innocence regarding marriage that made her almost blink. "lord tyrell remains a close favourite of the king; though still i am sure the king would expect him to marry in time."

"they are lovely children." lucrezia spoke, her mind some space away from this current conversation: she wondered whether, should their union go forward, she would expect her children to be heirs of both starpike and longtable alone. or whether her children would stand in succession only for longtable. whether any future son of theirs could turn to his half brothers in starpike and demand it for his own. it felt like something waiting to happen. "would you protect their interests above the interests of your own?" lucrezia asked, her question admittedly quite forward. such were matters one needed to contemplate when marrying a widow, a man who already had not one legitimate son, but two.

there was no denying that lucrezia, as much as it may cause her feelings of regret in her mouth, would always seek to consolidate the interests of her own children. women were different, and thus such discussions needed to take place. was that not the reason the dance happened after all?

if seffora merryweather had any family left, it would be them who would be responsible for finding her match. instead, she were left to navigate the currents of politics, and the whims of men, entirely alone. she looked as though she were in her mid twenties, at most; if there were any man she found herself having such an attachment to, it was a good thing it would at least have been lord lucca tyrell, who had been awarded starpike following the fall of house peake. the current heir of the reach, he who the throne would pass should anything befall king cedric of house tyrell in this very moment: should her best friend's womb remain empty. 

she looked upon seffora merryweather, and though the chances were slim, wondered whether she would be able to handle being queen of the reach, of all regions.

"would you like me to mention your name the next i speak with the lord, lady seffora?" lucrezia asked, looking upon her with a small smile. they were the reach: their king lead the way in showing how planting seeds allowed for matters to grow strong. their strength came from planting seeds, and watching it blossom in the distance. "utterly in passing, almost mindlessly."

#this is a wrap on my end; my dear #lucrezia: 02 #couldn't trim... sorry

[seffora-merryweather]

Lord Lucca,

Thank you kindly for your response, and your willingness to have our lands engage in a prosperous trading alliance. I'd be ready to travel whenever you have the time to meet with me.

It pleases me greatly that your sons enjoyed their presents. You may tell Niccolo and Arren that I will travel with more presents so they can be entertained by them. Which animal do you think they would like?

I'm eager to see you and your wonderful boys soon.

Sincerely,

‒ 𝒮effora

lady seffora,

it would be an honor to engage in trade with you and your house. it may be best for us to discuss these terms of trade face to face, and you are most welcome here in starpike. should you wish to make the trip, i will prepare for your arrival.

we are doing well, and i hope you are as well. the boys loved your gift, niccolo especially. he's tried snatching both for himself.

i look forward to seeing you again.

sincerely, lucca

#lucca: 05

[seffora-merryweather]

Seffora had grown up used to being away from the place that was meant to be her home. The war had done that, and so after the Hightowers stormed and sieged Longtable, home gradually became the place where her guardians were. Home became Goldengrove for a time. Home became Highgarden then, when she became a lady-in-waiting. Home was where the people she grew to care about were, as clichéd as that notion could be. It was such a real sentiment, though. Laena had helped her feel at ease and welcomed while she served under King Cedric’s first wife. The other woman had treated her like a kind friend from the start. So now, with so many changes in both women’s lives, Seffora was so pleased to see the dressmaker again.

“Gods, Laena!” the Merryweather exclaimed as soon as she spotted, her joy getting the best of her as she rushed towards the other woman. Without hesitation, Seffora wrapped her arms around her friend and pulled her into a hug. “It's so good to see you,” she grinned, appreciative of the familiarity of being with someone she cherished. “You may call me by my name, you know. In fact, I'd prefer it,” she mentioned, for she didn't wish the divide of titles to form any sort of wall between her and her friend.

“Many men were lost to Longtable during the civil way,” the ruling lady said, her expression sobering a little. “Their widows are good, hard-working women. They deserve the chance to keep going forward, to grow and thrive with what they know, what they're eager to learn,” she mentioned, making a gesture with her hand so the two of them could walk together as they talked. Seffora looked at Laena with curiosity in her eyes, eager to learn why her friend wished to discuss the efforts to bring Longtable out of the depths the civil war had sunken it into. “I'm listening”.

setting : sometime before the kingdoms’ departure in the reach, the gardens ; @seffora-merryweather

there was a sweet smell that hung in the air, one of fresh grass and blooming flora. it was almost nostalgic to the dressmaker of somerset as she wandered about the gardens. her mind was filled with thoughts of pins and threads lately, that she had decided she desperately needed a break from her craft. it was not the easiest to tear herself away from a project, but the sunshine and fresh air was some much appreciated respite. laena paused for a moment just to relish the sun’s rays upon her cheeks and the fresh air filling her lungs. when she opened them, she happened to notice a familiar figure not too far ahead.

seffora merryweather had been someone she would consider a friend during her time in the reach court. the woman had a kind disposition and she and laena got along well. the latter’s rather abrupt departure had put a pause in their relationship. that, and the war that came over these lands. laena had heard what the other endured, her sister playing a pivotal role in all of it, but she did not intend to bring such matters up.

her feet moved in the direction of where the lady stood, and when laena found herself within an appropriate distance in which she was not shouting, she attempted to get her attention. “lady merryweather.” the silver haired woman called, standing before the other now. they had dropped such formalities when they were in court, but they were not alone now, and it had been long since they spoke. “i am glad to see you.” she held her hands in front of her, a bright smile bringing out the dimples in blushed cheeks. “i have heard talk of a philanthropy you have taken on, and i would love to discuss that with you if you have a moment.”

#laena: 03