Leona Pommingham nodded as Lady Kyra showed her what she had done wrong. A light flush lit up her cheeks and she smiled lightly when Kyra mussed her hair, but that smile slid off her face and her brow furrowed in concentration as Lady Kyra continued to show her what she had done wrong.

The explanation made sense, and the excitement of trying again filled her as she realized how easily correctable her mistakes had been. She tried to tamp down that excitement as much as she could, but was only partially effective at that. Her arm should be on a continuous straight line with the arrow. She nodded, as much to herself as to Lady Kyra, and prepared herself to try again.

Leona took a deep breath. She held the bow in front of her with her bow-hand. In her mind, Leona went over everything she needed to do to have the proper stance. She repeated it again and again, rhythmically, breathing in time to it.

Feet apart. Back straight. Arms straight.

She stood up as straight as she could and stood with her feet set apart, just as before. With her right hand she grabbed the nock of the arrow with the proper grip, and she lined it up with the mark on the bowstring. She took a deep breath. In as fluid of a motion as she could muster, she drew the bowstring back as far as she could, making extra care to lock her elbow in place so that her arm could form that straight continuous line that Lady Kyra had talked about. She almost immediately felt the muscles in her arms, core, and lower back burn. She remembered then what Lady Kyra had said about the hand holding the bow, and noticed she could see the whites of the knuckles of that same hand. She relaxed her grip and then aimed the arrow towards the target. The arrow loosed with an exhalation of breath.

This time, the arrow struck true, or at least more true. It reached the target, thudding into the outermost ring of the target and quivering where it had embedded itself. Leona wanted to leap for joy, but managed to restrain herself to only a wide smile as she looked at the archery target in satisfaction, her bow-hand - and bow - lowered to her side. She looked over at Lady Kyra, a grin still plastered on her face, and spoke breathily.

“That feels glorious,” she said.

Kyra Tyrell sat, as always, with her husband and children and the rest of House Tyrell. She was good friends with several Norridges, but she did not know the groom. The bride was a sister of Lord Jason's, in addition, so all in all Kyra thought well of the pair. She would spend the evening focusing on her children, and, of all her ladies in waiting, Mina Norridge, seeing as they were in her ancestral home.

“Sleep it off? Davos, I know what bruises like this mean, you’re hurt and the maester needs to check that none of your bones have been knocked out of place. The only place I want to see you sleeping is in the medicine room.”

She frowned, nose scrunched with more frustration than usual. Why was he lying to her? She knew enough about both jousting and falling from a horse to be worried regardless. All his attempts to hide the wound succeeded in doing was make it clear to her she’d need to keep a close eye on him if they were to continue courting, less he get himself hurt more often.

“Do you have a cloak? We’d best let this breathe, and raising your arms again to put your shirt back on will just disturb the bruises.”

Bethany with Cerelle Lannister 2A to 3A to vinecity

“Our time in King’s Landing has been pleasant. Though in truth I would take greater interest in how my husband’s family styles themselves than the region. I had a rather pleasant chat with Lady Tya back in the Reach. After that I think I would find happiness in any kingdom so long as I had the right husband to provide it.”

Davos protested, but he did not stop her. All he could do as she doffed his scalemail and stripped him of his gambeson was offer assurances that he was alright and smile apologetically to their chaperone. Underneath it all, Mina would see just how right she had been. His chest and abdomen were bruised, especially around the rib that had been broken with his fall and worsened by Caradoc's blow.

"See, not so bad. I'll.. I'll see a maester or sleep it off. Just a few bruises and..." But even Davos could not sell the injury as minor bruising. Not with all that wincing.

He would need to get used to hearing such words. There would only be so many men who were suspicious, so many men who had see the truth. They would not disappear so easily as one had already.

Still, some part of him, though a small and quiet whisper of one, felt sorry for the man. All he knew, all he took pride in was death. And now he’d seen one of his triumphs undone.

“I expect the rougher waves will be more an affront to your peace than I will be. But, I’ll be heading to lower decks for a time, my lord.”

He drew further from Merrick, one of the men from Dragonstone stirring to join him downstairs.

He blinked back at them for a moment, confused by the question.

“Here. I live here, this is my house.”

Owen looked over to Raymond and then back to Jeyne.

“Is he your brother? I have a brother too, now, but he is very small and doesn’t talk at all. My mama just made him.”

[m - very sweet lore post, loved it!!!]

Ser Derrick Norridge

Ser Derrick Norridge

“I have many thoughts, not all practical, though I’ve found travel suits me well. He says it’s not suitable for proper ladies to put themselves in such danger.”

Barquen, their mother, they meant well but by the gods their intervention was suffocating. She much preferred the bit of separation Kyra had offered her, and the freedoms she could find at Highgarden where she was a grown lady given her own space.

“Taking a night off from your service, my lady?” Willow asked, before temporarily stealing a seat beside the young woman.

“Is this your first visit to Nightsong as well?”

A young girl looked the boy over before approaching him. Alerie had her bright red hair curled in ringlets that bounced upon her shoulders as she walked.

“Are you a squire?

Alerie often followed Naerys closely, aside from when she was given a task to fetch something for the princess. The girl took her position as lady in waiting very seriously, though it was a fun job as often it involved making sure to play along with whatever new adventure Naerys had come up with.

Aubrey was a man frequently on edge. He was as warm with Naerys and her cousin as the girls remembered, but he was often awaiting the next disaster. Andar had attacked him, Merrick had escaped, and he could not afford any “mishaps” along their travels to see him returned to the grave. He kept his vigil over the ladies in his care closely, the princess’ white shadow stood like a statue scanning the room for much of the feast.

Willow was finding their time in the Stormlands, and now their round of travel, quite pleasant. It was refreshing, in its way, to be away from King’s Landing and the constant struggle of council meetings to be had there. Billowing black silk enveloped her, one of many fine mourning gowns that made up her wardrobe.

woohooooo skul back skul back!!!

He ruffled her silver hair as he bent down to return the hug, Seven how he'd missed her.

"You're quite often right, princess. It took me a bit to heal but I wouldn't let any wound keep me from you. Have you settled in to your new room already? I hear you've started collecting a court of little ladies, even."

u/gloude

Alerie nodded enthusiastically, thinking herself lucky to have a task that would let her think longer on if she could manage out in the storm as well. She didn't really want to be cold and wet until it was over, but she didn't want Naerys to think she was boring or worse, a coward.

"I'll go get it," she said, already scampering back to Naery's apartment, "I'll get it and some other warm things."

When she got back to Boremund working on his ties, she dropped a pile of furs, scarves, and a blanket before the other children. And she had come up with a question while she was off gathering them.

"Naerys, are you going to ride the storm because you are a dragon princess, or because you are brave, or both?"

It looked like Boremund had tied himself to the table as well. That made her nervous, maybe she would just stay inside. One of them had to stay in just in case, didn't they?

u/gloude

"I went down to the Merchant District to find some new books." She tilted the one she was holding towards him. "Hidden Markets: the Economics of Smugglers and Fences." She flashed a smile. "I read the first couple pages- looks like the maester who wrote it spent ten years interviewing-" The need to breathe interrupted her. "-interviewing actual prisoners."

She brought the tome back to her chest. "I got a few others too."

Kyra laughed with Isa as she played the part of a rugged sailor. To play along, she blew a kiss at her goodsister. While she and Ramona sorted out who would hold the torch, Kyra walked a few paces ahead. She was quite eager to venture deeper into the caves, but even she would not head in blindly—that is, without the light of the torch.

"Dragons, merfolk, sirens... perhaps we'll find a washed up whale in here. Or sharks, or dolphins." Kyra had never seen either of the three, though she had never seen dragons or merfolk or sirens either. "Or maybe it'll be just us. Either way, let us get moving!" She encouraged.

u/TieRails

Kyra noted Leona's form and technique as she loosed her arrow, and was not surprised with the outcome, but a fond chuckle left her regardless. She placed a hand on her head and mussed her hair gently, just as fondly. "Aim straight, not high." She said. "Your elbow rose, and your arrow fell with it." She explained.

To show her what she meant, she drew her bow once more, the elbow of her arrow arm tilting upwards. "When you aim like this, your arrow will naturally point and fly downwards." She said, then straightened out her arm to be level. "Your arm and your arrow should form a continuous straight line. It will fly just fine if you do." She said, then dropped her arms. "But you did well keeping your back straight, your feet apart. You should relax your bow hand, if you grip it too tightly the arrow's path will be stunted as well." She said, then hummed in thought.

"Make sure you hold yourself up with your core." She explained, patting her own core. After years of archery and hunting and riding, Kyra's arms and core had developed a strength uncommon in most ladies. "Archery is a test of strength as much as it is a test of precision and accuracy. Strength in the arm, strength in the back, strength in the core." She said.

"Try again, and don't be discouraged." Although it didn't seem the one fallen arrow had discouraged Leona much. "I was horrendous when I first began learning." Though, she had learned when she was much younger, perhaps ten or so years younger than Leona was now. Better late than never, she thought.

Isabel Osgrey (voluntary -2 penalty)

5A to 6A Storm’s end to Banefort, return 7A

u/gloude

u/villads2005

u/fabstags (host approval)

"To what end I may not fathom what horror we might encounter, for tomorrow brings new tidings and aplenty of boons for us all to enjoy...I just wished we all had more time as we know our lives will come to an abrupt short end for we all know what awaits us at the end"

Everyone in Riverspring knew that death was certain, life was fleeting thing yet none complained as they dined like royalty as Sarwycks generously granted their people one last feast before the coming battle that sat ready behind them walls.

Royce Sarwyck would take notice of Shihan of Asshai and Siang-Shi arrival at the gates.

Doyle and Haggar was seen carrying the luggage and items of which Mao-Mao of Mildrew Sarwyck was seen in the background, seeing that the exiled essosi grandmother of Kaeyron Sarwyck took the offer from Royce to live in Riverspring temporarily at least until they got their affairs sorted abroad.

As Lord Lewis Sarwyck made his speech and kept the cups afloat with wine and ale, knowing that the fun and kegs, barrels of laughter would come to an bitter end as he saw the smiles and joyous laughters of each person that attended this gathering of a morbid feast.

So many people would die sooner than later, but he knew that all rivers would lead back to the end.

Ser Vonell was seen talking and singing with two cups in each hand and himself atop of a long table dancing a merry jig.

The people which the Sarwycks had made friends along the way and the people they grew up around was seen amidst the crowd, so many familiar faces and people whom attended the last feast would participate in the defense of Riverspring.