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[color=808080][color=#695645][b]darron[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/ow4oPPd][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color][color=#513e42][b]merial[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/ZcJG3QC][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color][color=50404b][b]seraphina[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/HZ5cKBX][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=#bd8484][b]penellaphe[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/nOYAau8][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color][color=9f7560][b]niktos[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/0w04c7j][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color][color=447989][b]lyric[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/TVhxbqc][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [b]the great hall[/b][/color]
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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080][color=#808080]Consider it leverage, or perhaps, consider it a momentary sign of weakness, that unwillingness to breach a subject tangibly felt between each Velmorra as a tautly drawn cord, the siblings untoward, the parents bared, as if a carcass loomed over by sickening eyes and frothing maws. Antler-crowned and bowed under the weight of sovereignty, gleaning bones barbed towards their unknown enemies. A barrage of inquiries lanced betwixt her ears, the space endowed and cumbersome, at leagues of capacity from the proceedings of court and all of its intrigue. The protocols here dictated her mannerisms, but could not align with her countenance, nor convince it proper, as her brow lowered and her eyes narrowed, slits of violet darkening under candlelight. A scowl more befitting of Lyric. [/color]

[color=#808080]Waiting, this beseechment of temperance, was not within her nature, to idly bide time against a mulling thought of where honor was due, for where honor was owed to it; to her family, the elk was a relative to their house, a patron of fable born of rock and stone, and the gilded horn that had offered its last son to campaigning heroism. Seraphina's consciousness swelled with the voided tendrils of her ascending doubt that sought to strangle the idealism that had coursed through her youth, to achieve the great and impossible in the honor-bound code of a knightly sort; the warrior within was parched for retribution and staunched for glory. The lady, who made attempts to embody the projected grace and fluidity as she followed the line of Velmorra into the ballroom, was visibly thwarted and idle in her movements. Feigning to be more inclined to the rustling silk and velvet, the royal purple of her gown, and all of its bronzed adornments accusatory, an imposter that felt without. What stubborn pride unsought here in unfettered twilight.[/color]

[color=#695645]“That is not the face of a woman who has just met her future husband.”[/color][color=#808080] Staunch as a mountain, broad and bronzed, Darron Velmorra quietly approached his eldest daughter and offered his arm. Lyric similarly escorted Merial whilst Niktos moved in swiftly to proffer his guidance to Penellaphe, to which the youngest accepted with few words spared and only a muted nod. Seraphina sighed, though soft laughter found purchase through her discomfited breath.[/color]

[color=#50404b]“He is… something. I will give Prince Dorian that much. First impressions didn’t lead to much, I’m afraid.”[/color][color=#808080] Seraphina admitted that, for what grace of admiration she had bequeathed him had been barren, little more than a regard for a potential match that was seemingly foretold by their familial bonds. [/color]

[color=#695645]“Oh, so you noticed after all when exchanging looks with a certain Captain of the Guard?”[/color]

[color=#50404b]“Oh, so you did notice beyond all that court bantry, something about making it all [/color][i][color=#50404b]official, [/color][/i][color=#50404b]as if all decided ahead of us. If I had known that, I would’ve just stayed home and spared myself the trip.”[/color]

[color=#695645]“Perhaps,”[/color][color=#808080] her father mused, head canted, eyes adrift.[/color][color=#695645] “Dorian is a prince only in name and lacking in nature. I would not choose such a man to hold the honor of your hand.” [/color][color=#808080]It was no secret to whom Darron supported. The day the news came by feathered courier that Declan had vacated his royal title, he had ridden hard to the valley, intent to dissuade him otherwise. For often they traded counsel, but Declan had not sought to inform him, and within the shadows, his title, the Lord of Stonefallow, had sown seeds of mutual support to nurture the unspoken loyalty some still harbored for whom they believed to be the true heir. Similar in his plotting to see Seraphina take up that Obsidia seat glistening in snowlight in the heart of Tarn’s rest. [/color]

[color=#50404b]“Treasonous musings from one of the King’s most loyal supporters, no? Is that not the intent of these next few months, to ensure that the crown falls to the North rather than be swept by the South?”[/color][color=#808080] She uttered, a near mockery of enunciated words to fall between them, father and daughter.[/color][color=#695645] “Rather to keep the influences of Karthos at bay, despite what currently sits upon the throne.”[/color][color=#808080] He drew Seraphina closer, the ballroom awaiting just yonder where the great houses filed into, escorted on whispers with bannered Lords and Ladies awash in the flickering candlelight. What impressions of grandeur and inspiring prowess of both glamorous food and drink became lost under the conspiring breath Darron dared speak, mindful of eclipsing shadows tossed by dark mahogany doors.[/color]

[color=#695645]“Your mother does not trust the Queen; it is she who pulls most strings here, all the playing pieces. Loathe I am to admit it. The city talks.” [/color][color=#808080]Seraphina paused, stalling their entry; the only sound permitted was the rustle of her skirts and the soft [/color][i][color=#808080]plink[/color][/i][color=#808080] of bronze decorating her bodice as she breathed. [/color][color=#50404b]“Is this why you and Niktos bothered not to mention what was deliberately left for us on the fields?”[/color][color=#808080] She inquired, accusatively. [/color][color=#695645]“Partially, for while Rowan would take up such an offense, I doubt that Valenya would spare such resources to care, not when it would dismantle these marriage talks to investigate.”[/color]

[color=#695645]“This is a game now, not unlike a duel, not unlike war. But we trade our swords for concealed words and manipulative plays done under darkness.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Transitioning from the great hall and into the cavernous ballroom was a dizzying effect, an amalgamation of dreams and wonder, with speckled moonlight and firelight alchemizing upon the border of both rigid affair and wild inclination. The long tables hewn from dark oak beckoned, the seats awaiting, decadence afforded, and little spared in the fineries of navy and silver lain carefully and artfully, tactful in the reminders of the royal family they all served and that deigned to house them. Seraphina dragged her admirations away and stood there with her father, both Velmorran down to their marrow, honorable and just, blackened hair and captivating eyes, commanding both presence and space in their conversation.[/color]

[color=#50404b]“What would you have me do, and if you say [/color][i][color=#50404b]wait[/color][/i][color=#50404b] as Niktos did, I will fetch my sword and run it through the suckling pig and give these glorious houses of the Ninefold a real show.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Darron laughed, a loud and brutish guffaw, similar to his days in the fields of boyhood, where all he knew was the antlered helm of his charging lead and the sweat and blood of his brethren. He recalled similarly brazen words spoken by those once close to him, brothers, now separated by leagues of country and obligation.[/color]

[color=#695645]“I’ve no doubt, but there will be a time yet for you to show your skill with a blade.” [/color][color=#808080]It was no direct answer, but the soft smile that broke across his usual stoic countenance placated her all the same, a delicate curl of her lips pulled around her charming disposition, coloring her eyes with mirth. [/color][color=#50404b]“You think they’d allow a lady into their duels and jousts?”[/color]

[color=#695645]“I do not take you as one to ask permission.” [/color][color=#808080]He once more offered his arm to resume their procession into the ballroom that awaited, the rest of the Velmorra family already inside and dispersed, strategically placed by how close Niktos remained by the tables assumed for their progeny. Penellaphe stood by what was assumed to be her seat, where Seraphina noticed the designations of their placements, no doubt selected by Valenya, as her father had spoken; all of this was a carefully constructed plan by the Queen herself. She searched carefully for her own name, another diplomatic stratagem, a clever one at that, to separate kin and place them as tantalizing aspects, some more favorable than others. Darron gently laced his fingers over her own, drawing her gaze with a tempering squeeze.[/color]

[color=#695645]“Mind the lace, as your mother would say. I must see to her.” [/color][color=#808080]He departed swiftly, rejoining his wife by the adjacent table, his hand at the small of her back, where a gracious smile would greet him. Let it never be said that Darron Velmorra did not truly adore his wife, even if the grace of her simper did not meet her eyes, dulled by something unspoken and unnamed. [/color]

[color=#808080]Seraphina, now left to her own devices, pried her mind away from the exchanges with her father, the whispers betwixt her ears, and traded them for the plucking of string instruments and the lulling of trickling water, which served as a subtle accompaniment to the conversations held. From her position, she watched the intrigues of preliminary courtship beginning to take form: Dorian escorting ladies to their seats whilst exchanging small pleasantries, the Princess Rhea in conversations with her potential suitors, and Princess Maeve likewise, everything about her so refined and poised, more or less a silken accessory that she could deduce as being just as delicate, all of her strength spared for coiling tongues. She began indulging in her wine as the Lords settled around her, where Niktos would join them, and she chuckled, mostly to herself, for this was more befitting to his element than her own, with all his books and negotiations and capabilities of communication. She could only wish him luck, however, in the night that awaited them. Seraphina turned gracefully, skirts rustling around her legs, her gestures mindful and collected at her waist, hands laced idly. Her seat was down just a few paces, but then someone almost collided with her, her shoulder curiously brushing against a rigid bicep, her spatial awareness brimming with intrigue as she turned, an apology carried to her ears by a voice that plucked at her lobe, a baritone both pleasant and boyish, that disarmingly eased into a time once thought lost.[/color]

[color=#cc5500][i]“Do you remember what you said to me?”[/i][/color]

[color=#808080]The memory surfaced, languid and simplistic, listing as though rippling waves undulating beneath swatches of sunlight before parting, sweeping between her ears as familiarity captured the unveiling of a once-upon-a-time suitor. As children of a war long since past, ties were forged under the cowl of matrimony, donned blue and bronze, and decorated in the niceties of unifying banners and lands for the sake of profitable commerce. This summer of political engagement was not the first time Seraphina had been proposed as a bride. In the foundations of youth and girlhood, beside the stories of glorified wardom, there had been whispering prospects of both knotted sword and valiant stag, an unwed hand to stretch yonder mountain territories, to cap whispering fields of wheat in the bartering futures for both crucial prey and blessed ore of Obsidia.[/color]

[color=#50404b]“Yes…”[/color][color=#808080] Serpahina whispered, momentarily taken by the masculine figure standing before her, close to a bespoken familiarity in the small space afforded between them. She looked up… and then up. His height was on par with her father’s, considerably taller than her, with her neck craned back in the slightest tilt, her gaze flickering up in small increments, measured and deliberate to exchange that memory of a boy for the presence of a man. The shadow of his brow, the simplistic charm, that refreshing candor, unguarded and unbound, the political strain of court had not befallen him, it would seem, and something within Seraphina loosened, albeit slightly, before recollection served just exactly [/color][color=#808080][i]who[/i][/color][color=#808080] he was.[/color]

[color=#50404b]“Valerius Kenra.” [/color][color=#808080]His name sluiced through her teeth, having rolled against her tongue, a twinge of an old affair where summers of youth saw the Kenra’s crossing territories, their families once close, forged under war, before suddenly they had parted, a severe and sudden disconnect that later bled into the disputes of exporting stolen game and resources and border skirmishes. Not once, though, had Seraphina witnessed Valerius on those campaigns she had personally led, and for a brief moment, she speculated whether he was even aware of the poaching affairs, or perhaps he was knowledgeable and simply did not care, absorbed in his mantle as Lord and above such grievances. [/color]

[color=#50404b]“I said that the art of the bow would be lost upon you. For you had the potential for swordmanship, an arm with a reach and footwork that any man would find enviable, even at such an age.”[/color][color=#808080] And had he achieved such greatness? What tale was spared and spun through the realm had not reached the peaks of Stonefallow to her ears, but Niktos had once spoken about generational proclamations of his skills, and even her father had once acknowledged the heir of River’s End. Such minute praise was hard won by the former warstag, and she had been vying and relishing in it for years in her girlhood, intent on being worthy as the daughter of Darron Velmorra, the last son of the gilded horn. Her head canted to one side, dark curls pooling over her bared shoulder, lustrous and ravenlike in the subdued glow of candlelight, but the sparkling in the depths of her violet eyes was anything but, for the severity of her gaze glistened to swell and then darken, her lashes sweeping low against her cheeks contoured by shadows.[/color]

[color=#50404b]“Did you take my advice, I wonder, or have you continued your intent with [/color][i][color=#50404b]elk [/color][/i][color=#50404b]bows?” [/color][color=#808080]She asked, hinting at something she could not and would not outwardly say. Call it fate intervening that neither Niktos nor her father stood close by.[/color][color=#50404b] “Gorgeous beasts, aren’t they? Difficult to hunt, to bring down. Likened to the stag that champions the Velmorran line. All patrons to our house. Have you seen one recently?” [/color][color=#808080]Seraphina smoothed her gestures across her skirts, chiffon rustling, silks pooling and tugging, the bronze and royal purple of her attire willed into place, to busy her hands whilst she stood before the heir of Kenra, the heart of the house she had warred against, and their hunters. [/color]

[color=#50404b]“I have.”[/color]


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[color=808080][b]interactions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] darron & valerius. [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]mentions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] valenya, rowan, declan, dorian, maeve, rhea. misc. others. [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]collabs[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] - - -[/color][img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/sup][/center]