Lady Junia Carriven
Never forget me, my love
Appearance
Junia is a slight woman, standing no taller than five foot three. Her frame is slender and delicate, gracefully fragile. Her hair, dark as a raven's feathers is streaked with white framing her face. Her skin is fair, pale as the moonlight, and her eyes a clear blue. The look in them carries a depth that seems far beyond her years, as though they have weathered more than she speaks of. Soft in presence, there is a quiet poise in the way Junia holds herself- a balance of refinement and something untamed lingering beneath the surface.
Skills and Abilities
Her husband has seen to it that she is dressed well, has a near-silent presence unless spoken to, and a perfectly polished demeanor.
Personality
On the surface, Junia is composed and soft spoken, deliberate in her words. She has learned to wear patience like armor, concealing emotion behind a graceful demeanor. Most take her for the meek wife of Fabian, but those who care to look closer recognize her quiet intelligence, the habit of listening before speaking and the sharpness of her observation. She is empathetic, but it does not make her weak. It makes her stubborn in her own quiet way. Where Fabian seeks to dominate, she resists- not through an open defiance, but by clinging to her sense of self. In the accent she never quite lost, in the courtesies she extends, even to those beneath her name.
Beneath it all is a yearning she cannot name. Something in her spirit that refuses to be broken completely. It emerges rarely, but when it does, it carries the weight of inevitability, like the pull of the tides in Gleymheim.
Beneath it all is a yearning she cannot name. Something in her spirit that refuses to be broken completely. It emerges rarely, but when it does, it carries the weight of inevitability, like the pull of the tides in Gleymheim.
Biography & Lore
Junia (YOO-nee-ah) Ulfrund- Carriven was born along the windswept coasts of Gleymheim, where sea had worn the land down into black sandy beaches and the air always carried the scent of salts. Her childhood was quiet, but not without sadness. Her mother had been a woman of fragile health and a gentle spirit. Her father once called her a healer for their little village. Her mother had lingered long in an incurable illness long before passing, when Junia was still young. She provided no siblings, only Junia, who had been gifted a decade of memories. Her mother's voice, soft as lullabies carried on the tides, remained Junia's anchor to a childhood that seemed to vanish as quickly as it began.
After her mother's death, her father was left empty in spirit and fortune. For years, he struggled to hold what remained of their name and lands together, but he was no longer the man he had once been. When House Carriven offered protection and stability through marriage, he accepted. It was not a romantic match, nor one born of much choice. It was necessity, veiled as alliance. Junia was introduced to their household one evening, when the eldest son, Fabian Carriven, observed her with a keen eye.
He was not a man to squander interest easily. While others may have dismissed her quiet reserve and coastal upbringing as unremarkable, he found something about her composure intriguing. Junia, for her part, felt the weight of his scrutiny but remained as her father instructed: graceful, polite. She answered Fabian's questions in her lilting accent, which made the man smile. She had long since mastered the common tongue, but her words still carried the cadence of the seaside dialect of her youth. Fabian called it "quaint". He never mocked her for it, but he never let her forget it either.
So it was that Junia became the wife to the Carriven heir, bound to a family far from the shores she had once called home. She played her role well- poised, obedient, and dressed in jewels as the family demanded. Yet beneath it all, lingered the girl who had grown upon the edge of wild, windswept waters. She had learned to quiet her grief and soften her voice, but part of her remained untamed, marked by memories she could never fully bury.
After her mother's death, her father was left empty in spirit and fortune. For years, he struggled to hold what remained of their name and lands together, but he was no longer the man he had once been. When House Carriven offered protection and stability through marriage, he accepted. It was not a romantic match, nor one born of much choice. It was necessity, veiled as alliance. Junia was introduced to their household one evening, when the eldest son, Fabian Carriven, observed her with a keen eye.
He was not a man to squander interest easily. While others may have dismissed her quiet reserve and coastal upbringing as unremarkable, he found something about her composure intriguing. Junia, for her part, felt the weight of his scrutiny but remained as her father instructed: graceful, polite. She answered Fabian's questions in her lilting accent, which made the man smile. She had long since mastered the common tongue, but her words still carried the cadence of the seaside dialect of her youth. Fabian called it "quaint". He never mocked her for it, but he never let her forget it either.
So it was that Junia became the wife to the Carriven heir, bound to a family far from the shores she had once called home. She played her role well- poised, obedient, and dressed in jewels as the family demanded. Yet beneath it all, lingered the girl who had grown upon the edge of wild, windswept waters. She had learned to quiet her grief and soften her voice, but part of her remained untamed, marked by memories she could never fully bury.
-
-
Created by on
-