Winds of Winter II: Whispers in the Vale (IC)

[Harmony]

Allyria

Allyria face freezes in a sheepish grin as Myrande has her tirade. Remember, north of Dorne, every unmarried woman is a maiden, her mother had told her before she had left her home for her first travel across the narrow sea, and she had been reminded of it every time before she set out. She might have let on a bit to much with Myranda, or the woman simply assumed, but she really had no answer to that. She always felt it highly unfair that the men she had slept with would be seen as "worldly" here, while she on the other hand would be seen as a damaged goods. She clenched her fist and drove her nails into her palm until the pain drove her anger away. Fortunately, it seemed the northerners had some unwritten rule about not asking specific questions, at least not to someone of her station, so they could continue living in their fantasy. She would just have to play along with that game, until she was finally married.

That Myranda appreciated her joke made her feel a bit better about it, but she still regretted it. There was always a strangely satisfying feeling in helping Myranda down the stairs, perhaps because it was the only time she actually had physical contact with someone here - even the northerners greetings were stiff and distant affairs. She loved how Myranda's face contorted into concentration, and the small look of panic when she realized that Allyria was watching her and not where she was putting her feet. She always brought her down safely though. By now, she knew every step here, even though she would need to be a bit careful with them as sometimes ice-patches wouldn't melt away if it was a cloudy day. She had nearly hurt herself badly one of the first days here, and had since quickly come to respect the treacherous nature of frozen water. "There we go." she gave Myranda a smile as they reached ground level, and hesitantly let go of her hand.

She stopped to watch Ser Gaelen. I was one of the showmanships the northerners were actually excellent at. The horses they rode had none of the grace or speed of Rhaegar, but there was something undeniably both majestic and terrifying about the animals as they accelerated. A shriek of excitement escaped her throat. The suspense leading up to the loud bang as the lance hit the shield felt like a lifetime. It was a good clean hit and she applauded fervently. There was something about how the horse and rider became more than their separate parts, and instead became one. Sure, in Dorne, they would perform more fancy tricks, but it was always showing the horses and the riders skill separately. "I think Ser Gaelen would be a good match for you." she whispered, still enamored by the performance and failing to remember, or caring, if he was married already or not.

Once the excitement dies down, she looks for Lord Baelish entourage again. She had been sent here to make an impression on the mother of Lord Robert, and since there had been no word of recall, she assumed her work here was still important. She was still uncertain why she had been sent away, as she had been quite certain that Morris would arrange their marriage with haste by the way he had looked at her, but instead of the proposal as she had been expected when formally summoned, she had been sent away. It might have been Alyssa, but she didn't think so. That rejection had hurt. She pushed the thoughts aside alongside with wiping a tear away, silently blaming the wind.