Private Tales The Starling and the Bear

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Lynus laughed softly under his breath, shaking his head as her brows arched at him.
“No more, I promise,” he teased, though there was a quiet warmth in his eyes as he watched her clutch her stomach.

When her plea came, he sobered. A sigh escaped him as he leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, his fingers threading gently into her hair. “I promise,” he murmured against her skin. “You are safe. We are safe. Nobody knows where we are but us."

He drew in a slow, steadying breath. “We’re both free now. Lord and Lady Caerwyn,” he said at last, tasting the name as though it might settle around them like armour.

The ache in his chest flared, the thought of Arryn never far, but it only made him more determined to reclaim some happiness. His brother had given his life for it, and he wouldn’t waste it.

His hand slid from her hair to cup her cheek, a faint smile breaking through. “And tonight, wife,” he said softly, “I’m taking you out.”
 
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Relief flooded her veins.

Isla exhaled. It wasn't just a breath, but something heavier. Something that had lived caged in her chest for months, clawing at her ribs, trying to get out. But as Lynus's lips brushed against her forehead, fingers gently threading into her hair, the tension vanished like smoke through an open window.

The promise settled into her bones.

Safe.

It echoed in her head like a prayer. Her shoulders slumped slightly, grip loosening from the invisible armor she clung to.

"Lord and Lady Caerwyn.."

She repeated it softly, testing the name in the way he had. Her eyes lifted to his, searching in his face as though it was the first time she had ever looked at him. Then something flickered in her expression. Surprise first, then warmth.

"It's beautiful," She whispered, grabbing his hand and squeezing it as she repeated, "Caerwyn."

She tilted her head when she looked back. "Does it mean anything?" She kept her voice light, but curious. But the way she looked at him said something different. That she wanted it to mean something. That maybe after everything they'd been through, she was finally to let this be real, to settle, to let it take root.

And then he smiled at her faintly, cupping her cheek. Her heart fluttered as he said something unexpected.

Tonight, wife, I'm taking you out.

In Vel Anir, they hadn't a luxury of simply going anywhere. Not without guards, certainly not without criticism and whispers and stares. He was giving them something so foreign: a normal date night. Smiles bloomed wider across her lips until she was grinning, hand rising to rest gently over his. "And where, my very dashing Lord Caerwyn," She murmured, voice lilting with a hint of mischief, "are you taking your lovely wife?"

She laughed quietly, unable to stop the warmth from flowing through her. It didn't erase her pain, but it dulled the edges. Replaced it, if only for a while, with something sweeter. Something almost like joy.
 
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Lynus’ quiet laugh rumbled against her as he shook his head slightly.
“You’re beautiful,” he corrected softly, his lips curving into a smile.

“And Caerwyn,” he murmured, letting the name linger in the air between them, “means ‘blessed fortress.’ It means a fresh start. It means that you are safe, and loved—” his lips brushed against the corner of her jaw, then her cheek “—and it means the same for our children.”

“Bleugh,” Brett muttered from his post on the couch, making a face. “Come on, Duke. We’ll go explore whilst these two are bein’ disgustin’.” He swiped an apple from the table and bolted for the door, the hound bounding after him with a happy bark.

Lynus chuckled against Isla’s lips, stealing a few more kisses before pulling back just enough to grin.
“We have a couple of hours spare…” he murmured, words broken by another kiss, “if you’d… like to… get acquainted with… our new suite.”

The wolfish grin that followed had barely formed before he dragged her to her feet and swept her into his arms.


Oban at night was alive. The warm air carried the scent of spiced wine and roasted meats and candied fruits, and glowing orbs floated above the cobblestone streets, bobbing like playful dragonflies as they lit the way. Music drifted from the open doors of taverns and street corners where performers played, and laughter spilled from every direction.

Lynus felt his chest loosen with every step. It was easier to breathe here. Easier to just be. His fingers laced with Isla’s, thumb brushing over her knuckles as they walked - no guards shadowing them, no whispers following them, no one recognising them. Just another couple out enjoying the night.

They wandered into one of the many squares scattered across the city. Restaurants and taverns framed the open space, lanterns swaying overhead, and in the middle, a fountain sang beneath the music of a quartet.

Lynus stopped, turning to face her, his eyes warm and mischievous. Then he spun her lightly by the hand and drew her back toward him, his other hand sliding to her waist.

“Might I have the first dance with my wife?” he asked with a smirk.
 
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"Caerwyn..." Isla echoed again, letting it linger on her tongue. She smiled then, soft and real. "I really do love it." Her voice was tinged with wonder. "It suits us, you're right." And she kissed him when his lips finally met her mouth after peppering little kisses on the way.

Bleugh

Isla barked a laugh at Brett's dramatic little noise of disgust before running for the door. She lifted a hand to her mouth to stifle it, but it was of no use.

"Oi! You're a Caerwyn now, too, you little traitor!" She shouted after him, watching the boy vanish through the new house with Duke hot on his heels. The door slammed shut after them, and Lynus was already back to pressing kisses to her cheek, her jaw, her mouth. She flushed, laughing into his lips before kissing him back fully, hungrily, letting him pull her to her feet and into his arms.

"Hours, you say?" She teased, breathless as he swept her alone. "How ever shall we fill them, my Lord?"

The door to their suite clicked closed behind them. Locked.


Oban was like a dream.

Warm air drifted from the sea, rich with the scent of spices and sugar. Isla's fingers laced through Lynus's as they wandered the cobbled streets full of music and color. Lanters swung above them and laughter rippled all around them. There was no need to watch her back. No dread crawling up her spine. No worries of Nathaniel showing up. No looming specter of the royal's disapproval. Just air.

They paused in a square where music swelled from a nearby quartet just as Isla finished some sort of airy floss candy on a stick. The music was slow and soft beneath the glowing night. Lynus had turned to her, spinning her by her hand and catching her close, palm setting on her waist.

May I have the first dance with my wife?

Isla's smile bloomed like the spring flowers. "You may," She said simply, slipping her free hand to his shoulder as she melted into him.

They swayed together, her head against his chest, their steps slow and instinctual as if their bodies had always known how to move together. The rest of the world faded to just music and warmth, his heartbeat thudding steady beneath her cheek.

After a while, Isla's voice stirred the quiet.

"I think about that day sometimes..." She murmured. "The first one.. at the brothel." She pulled back just enough to look at him, searching his face.

"I was awful to you," she whispered, guilt making its way across her face. "You were grieving and I was cruel. So angry. I still don't understand how you came back for me after that." She didn't mention the bruises on her throat, or the cruel things they'd said to one another in self defense. She didn't mention the second time he came, when he'd nearly killed one of his own men for paying for her time.

Didn't mention the lingering guilt she held over Arryn's death, which wouldn't have happened had that first meeting never occurred.

She didn't need to.

"I must have been very blessed." She said, eyes glassy in the low light. "To get a second chance. To end up here." She rose on her toes, pressed her lips to his. Once. Twice. Lingering on the third before she tucked herself beneath his chin again, swaying with him to the music that wrapped around them. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Isla let herself be happy. Truly happy, safe in the arms of a man who had crossed kingdoms to love her.
 
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He held her close as they swayed, the music drifting around them. When she looked up at him, Lynus met her gaze, his own softened by the glow of lantern light. One hand rose to cup her face, thumb brushing tenderly over her cheek as though memorising her in the moment.

“So fucking beautiful…” he breathed, the words almost to himself before his lips curved faintly, and he sighed as she spoke of the brothel.

“And I was just as terrible to you. An angry, drunk man in a brothel,” he admitted with a quiet, rueful laugh. “But I saw you smile, and it was the first time I’d felt anything other than pain and rage in so long.” His brow furrowed slightly, but he kept them moving in time with the distant music, rocking her gently.

“I was lost,” he said softly, as though confessing something sacred. “And I would have been again if not for you.”

He dipped his head to return her kisses with a soft sigh before pulling her fully against his chest, wrapping her in his arms.

“I’d never have had the courage to do this, if not for you. Every time I tried to run before, I never made it further than Bess’.” His breath left him in a quiet laugh, touched with disbelief at how far they’d come.

Then he drew back just enough to look at her again, voice steady, sure.

“But this, my blessing…” his thumb stroked along her jaw, his eyes warm and intent. “This is the life I want for us. For our children. You deserve to be loved, by me, by the people around you and the city you live in. Lets make it our home."
 
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Isla looked up at Lynus as his thumb traced along the line of her jaw, lip trembling despite her efforts to keep steady.

"Don't..." She whispered, voice cracking slightly, "Don't get too sentimental with me, Lynus...I don't want to ruin the whole evening if I can't handle my emotions." She laughed, but it was watery, quiet, and she leaned into his palm anyway, lashes fluttering shut as she took a breath.

She sighed quietly, "But gods, what a life we've clawed our way into, huh?" Her eyes opened again, glassy and shining in the golden glow of the lanterns overhead. "I never thought we'd get this far. Never thought I'd be someone who could dance in the streets. Who had a husband. A home. A child on the way."

Isla pressed her cheek to his chest for a moment, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. She swayed with him to the distant, romantic melody echoing through the square, and then pulled back just enough to look up at him again, a tentative smile tugging at her lips.

"Have you thought of any names, yet?" She asked quietly. "For the baby, I mean. Do you...have you thought about it? Would you prefer a boy or a girl?"

She paused, her voice growing softer still, the word Lynus murmured- children- lingering in her mind. "How many do you want? Just this one?" Her fingers brushed lightly over his chest. "Or were you planning on your own Caerwyn army?" She laughed, this time like the chime of a bell.

She looked away briefly, embarrassed by her own hopefulness, by how easily her mind had wandered into things like names and the future of their family.

Then her gaze found his again, steady and bright. "Regardless, I want them to feel what I'm starting to feel now. Safe. Loved. Wanted." Her smile grew more solidly, and she pressed her lips gently to his. "Let's make it a home. Let's give them something beautiful to remember. Brett, too. He deserves security."
 
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