✧ The Pack Survives ╱ Owen Stark - Blog Posts

anybody else might have laughed at owen's story, but dacey, though amused, looked vaguely horrified. "how many pizzas are you eating in a week, owen?" she asked, making a mental note to set up a meal delivery plan for him the second she got back to norway. "you could always donate some to a shelter or something. at the very least, it'll clear out your freezer." and also save his cholesterol levels.

sibling catch ups like this were far too few and far between. they'd all been so busy with their own lives, but it was nice to take a moment that was just for each other, no matter how overdue it was. she did her best, but it never quite felt like she was doing enough to show her support.

"life's good," she confirmed. "ulises has moved in." she'd never been sure she could see herself living with someone. for dacey, it was a big step. "everything else is basically the same. work keeps me busy. you should come by the hospital when you have time. there's a little boy on the ward who loves rugby, and he didn't believe you're really my brother," she smiled at the thought, shaking her head a little bit. "what about you? what's new in your life?"

who: @daceystvrk where: school gym notable deets: staaaaaark

"So, they said that if I can get them to a million likes I get life long freeze pizza. And when I realized it as like 400 calories for the whole pizza I was like well, I'll just eat as many pizzas as I can in my underwear and that's how I got free pizza for life but I'm a little sick of pizza."

Owen pulled his hair back away from his face as he caught up with his sister. He liked to visit her whenever he could and she came to games when she could, it was a good balance for them. The Starks were many but they were all very busy and even when Owen wasn't busy, he was always traveling because he could. He worked hard for his own money, ignoring the healthy trustfund from his family, and he wanted to spend his money in the best ways. What was the use in having so much if you wanted to die with the same amount?

"Tell me about things, how 's life be, doctor lady?"

she looked at him, and for a moment, a profound sadness fell over her. it was not born of grief, like her sadness often was these days, nor of pity, because there was never a time when she looked upon him with pity. she had never seen him as anything but strength, and while she had long understood that he carried the weight of a crown, she looked at him now and saw the weight of the world. the politics of it all made her head swim, and she could not imagine how much worse it was for owen.

"sounds exhausting," and not just for owen. the arrival of more women in court would mean more women she would have to talk to, when she already only found herself comfortable in the presence of a select few.

dacey nodded her assent. war was an ugly thing. she knew there was supposed to be honour and glory found in it, but while she could look at those who fought and think them brave, she could not see it as anything other than a tragedy. "in that, you have my support. anything to prevent further bloodshed." if there was any cause she would dedicate herself to, it would be that one.

their conversation oscillated from politics to personal, and while it was the former dacey struggled to immerse herself in, it was the latter that owen was reticent to discuss. "i understand, but i am your sister." a ghost of a smile flitted across her face. it was easy to forget that she could be stubborn. "and my duty to my brother is equal to my duty to my king. when you have some hours to be owen, then i will make time to be dacey."

"If someone can get a king to marry their choice, they stand to gain a great deal. If it's not from the King himself then they stand to gain from the Queen. There will be an influx of courtiers, many who haven't left after the end of things with Rosa's funeral are sending for women to join them here." And he would share this with her but they were hoping he would sleep with their daughter or their sisters and then the Lord would show up and demand a marriage. With the beginning of responsibility brought on the end of what he enjoyed these days. Women.

"I grow tired of war, sister. Let us do everything we can o prevent one from happening and perhaps look beyond our realm and our connections." He dragged his fingers through his beard, he would have to shave soon. He would have to do something to ensure he presented himself as someone that wore the crown of the north. And not the images of Kings from times long ago. Ages of heroes. No. He would look like a King.

Owen looked at her when she asked him about how he was feeling and he thought for a moment. Raised his mug, finished his beer, and then refilled it before looking back at her and then towards the window. "If we start talking about that I fear we'll be here for hours and I can only be Owen so many hours a day."

dacey nodded her head. "that's sensible, i think." there was certainly wisdom in keeping the search private. a political struggle was the last thing that the north needed, and to have it publicly known that owen was looking for a queen could certainly cause such a thing. for now, he had the luxury of time. "a weakness?" she wasn't an unintelligent woman, but perhaps a little naive in the ways of the world. she was here, though, and she was trying to understand a little better, trying to be useful in the best way she could.

for so much of her life, she had seen owen as a pillar of strength. perhaps it was unfair of her to have built such an image of him, but it had been there for almost as long as she had known how to draw breath. when she looked at him now, for the first time she could see cracks in that infallible image. she could see that he was tired, and wished that she could tell him to rest.

"i can't disagree with you." there was so much logic in what he was saying. nasir manderly made sense. she did not doubt his capabilities. on paper, he was the best person for the job. but this was not a conversation dacey ever thought she would be having - not just because she had traditionally been reticent about offering her opinion to him about matters of the kingdom, believing she had little wisdom to offer, but because she never could have foreseen a time when the kingdom would need a new hand.

when she glanced up, owen was looking at her, and their eyes met. there was something else behind his, something he was not telling her - but then, there were things she was not telling him, too. she wanted to tell him that he could speak to her of anything, but how could she without feeling like a hypocrite? "are you all right, though?" her brows raised. "i'm not... talking about the north or the hand or the queen. if there's ever anything you want to talk to me about..." she trailed off. she could not finish the sentence.

And his sister was kind, but many and more would have something to say about him looking for a new wife too soon. It would not be the queen of the Vale but perhaps the people. And the smallfolk had grown to love their queen. They loved that the queen didn't bring her seven, whispers he heard himself. They loved a queen that protected them with her own laws, giving their daughters places, places he would have to somehow maintain. It would not go over well.

"Of course, I will not advertise this search. Some will make their plans to put those women before me. And then there will be others who hope to see it as a weakness." Owen shrugged his shoulder, his fingers dragging over his dark hair. He was very tired and sleep abandoned him at every turn. Like the sister with whom he shared a womb. And now she was gone. Again.

"Nasir is the best choice. He understands the need for growth, very old friend." Fostered with the man. Their houses would one day be joined. He looked at her, there was more that was needed and he was uncertain if his sister was ready for everything. There would be marriages, conflicts, and more resistance. Owen didn't want another war. Next time he would cut the head off the snake and burn the body. Cousin branches were far more useful anyway.

whilst there was undoubtedly perks to being a king, it was also a thankless job. the weight of the kingdom rested on his shoulders, and it was that of which he spoke now. a new queen, rather than a wife. a new hand, rather than the loss of a friend so treasured. to dacey, it was telling, and worrying, all in one. the north needed owen the king, but she cared for owen the man.

"i understand there's more than... well, you to think about, but i don't think anybody would blame you for taking your time to start your search for a queen." perhaps they would. dacey certainly wouldn't think less of him, but then, she held in heart more compassion than she knew what to do with. "at least until the right woman makes herself known." it might be easier said than done, but too much change at once could be dangerous, and the starks household had shifted so much, still knitting around the gaps left by those they'd lost.

the mention of alys had her shifting uncomfortably, both feet finding the ground once more as she released her grip on her legs. she knew more than she should, but owen's words only reinforced her decision to keep that to herself, to relieve him of at least one burden. and so, she said nothing, pointedly avoiding the conversation of the oldest stark sister. neither did she address brandon - for she could not find it in her to condemn him, even if he did hate owen.

"a manderly could be a good idea." her gaze fell contemplatively on the fire. "there will doubtless be people vying for that position. not necessarily for the right reasons. not for the north." she liked to believe the best in people, but it would be foolish to deny that there were people who were out for themselves, grasping for power where they could. "if you think the manderlys share in your ambitions for the kingdom, and can support you when you are right and speak plain when they think you're wrong, then you could do worse than making one of them your hand."

When his wife died he receive the news his sister his was missing as well. Owen didn't take the time to process either. They sat on shelves in his mind and he would approach them later. When life allowed him to dust off the annals of his memory and feel it all. Brandon. Alys. Rosa. Only one remained and he imagined he would never see the living one again.

Much of it was his own fault. He should have put people in different positions, he should have listened to people when they said it was time for him to slow down. Owen Stark didn't like to listen to others. At the beginning of the conflict with the Umbers he say the cobbled road, where it stopped and how much they had to do, how far they had to go. He saw the improvements of Moat Cailin and the increased taxes from new villages and trade proved him right. Again. Northmen would be more than survivors.

In a generation they would speak about their southron wolf and all he sacrificed for the Kingdom that was thrust upon him after the mess of the dancing Dragons. Out of the flames came a kingdom came a kingdom reborn. His kingdom.

"I don't look forward to looking for a new queen." Owen murmured as he raised the hand carved mug of Honeywine Whisky from the Reach. A gift from their High Commander for the rate he provided in lumber for his building in the newly named golden sea. Another venture possible because of his drive.

"Alys could be dead. Brandon hates me as well. I need a new Hand. Perhaps a Manderly. Though, I've rather bad news for him. They will thank me in the long run."

closed starter for @owenstark

dacey leaned in towards the fire, letting the heat seek into her bones. it almost felt strange, that in the middle of such tumultuous times for the north, that they could find a moment to just be. 

it had been one thing after another. if that was overwhelming for dacey, she could not imagine how owen must feel. he was a king, but he was still her brother, and as a sister, she reserved the right to worry for owen the man, rather than owen who wore the crown. the loss of a queen was a blow to the north, but the loss of the mother of his children was what weighed most heavily on her. alysanne’s disappearance was similarly felt, but he had lost a twin. she couldn’t believe that just one of those things would not drag anybody down, let alone both in succession. 

she drew her knees to her chest, adjusting her skirts and wrapping her arms around them in a gesture that was both informal and child-like, something she had done long ago when they had both been far younger and less burdened. for once, her hands were still. 

she turned her head to look at him, taking a moment to simply observe before speaking. “what are you thinking about?” her voice was gentle - not obtrusive, simply wondering. “you don’t have to tell me. but if you want to talk about anything… well, i’m here to listen.”

there was truth to owen's words. anything was possible, and if there was any proof of that, the starks were it. for good and for ill. it was the ill that worried her. the fear of the unknown sent a shudder down dacey's spine that she struggled to suppress. "plenty of things have come to pass that neither of us could have seen coming." she chose her words slowly and deliberately, with a warning laced between them. there would be plenty more that she wouldn't see.

there was a faith in her abilities owen seemed to possess that dacey herself did not. she had never seen herself as smart and capable, but if owen needed her to be so, she would try to be. for a brief second, her mind flicked back to childhood, to little-girl-dacey who was all to eager to lend a helping hand to anybody in need. that thirst to be useful had never quite gone away, even if it had dulled somewhat as the years drew by.

her melancholy was washed away by owen's proclamation. it was enough to draw a small laugh from her. "of course, your grace," she addressed him playfully. "though the crown lends it a little more weight, no? regardless, whatever you need of me, it will be done."

The King smiled at her joke, chuckling a bit as he continued to eat and drink the black beer, strong and hearty, exactly what a man in the North needed. It was nice to take a moment to feel light when he was with his family. Their life was a heavy one, so many would talk about the joys of royalty and everlasting existence in the written text of the Wisdoms who now tracked their history.

The loss of Jon was not one he prepared himself for though he should have seen it coming. Truthfully he'd expected it to be him or Adam to die in some fight before any of the rest, even Alys on some level. He believed too strong in Cass' speed for her to ever die before him or get captured. Jon, he always thought Jon too smart and to witty to get captured or die. He would know how to get out of anything and perhaps he did in the hands of one more reasonble.

Alas, ransoming was a game of southron lords. In the North you were taken and rarely were your bones even returned. Given to the old Gods, the most pious of them secretly filling their trees with the entrails of their enemies as they did on Skagos. Owen took another drink, clearing his mind and focusing on his sister as she started to speak again. "You may find yourself even more capable than Jon, anything is possible sister. In fact, I never thought there would be another warg king and yet." He gestured, "one sits before you, Stark and all." He smiled at her.

"You're smart and you're capable. We all have our own strengths. You will see things Jon could have never seen and think them as well. Don't aim to be Jon, be yourself, sister, and all will be well. I believe in you. And I'm your big brother which makes my world law with or without the crown."

the positive confirmation was all dacey needed. she closed the door behind her before taking a seat, eyes drifting over the food before him. in the end, she took only bread, never-resting hands now taking to tearing it into thin strips. "thank you," a nod of gratitude followed. "one's cheese and meat consumption is a serious matter. best to explore all possibilities before deciding the right way to do it." for a second, there was a glimpse of her old self, the lighter dacey who was quicker to smile and joke. it was easier to feel a modicom of calm around owen, a little safer.

her stomach lurched unpleasantly at the mention of jon's name. her brother's fate was never far from her mind, and she could not think of his name without the grotesque imagery of what had happened to him.

"i do." dacey had lived her life within the walls of winterfell, and though she had seen little of the word beyond the north, it had its benefits. chief among them being that there was little that happened in the castle that she did not catch wind of. dacey saw everything, and understood more than most would give her credit for. if there was any offence in his query, she did not feel it, nor did she seek it out.

there was no denying that owen had a vision for the north. the ramifications of that were sweeping, but a vision without the proper guidance was doomed to remain just that. jon was that guidance, taking even the most complex of ideas and bringing it to life. it was an influence she was sure was sorely missed.

"i can't say i could be as capable as jon," she began, "but if there's anything you'd like me to look at, i can at least help you talk it through. sometimes a second pair of eyes does the trick."

Without Jon, Owen sat in the solar alone, such a strange feeling. Jon wasn't suppose to die. He was a man of the mind, a man who could look at the drawings of Owen's plans and bring them to life through builders and workmen. The changes happening all around them were because Jon knew how convey his ideas. Owen knew they would continue on with their dreams, continue on with their needs. The North would prosper and they would do more than be the region that survives.

"Come in, sister. You're never disrupting here. You're my sister and Princess of the North. Sit down. There's bread and cheese and hard meats. There's even black beer a gift from our visitors from the wall." He raised the mug and took a drink, sitting it down to the side then he picked up a heel of bread piling cheese, and dried meat on top. "Seen the sailors eating this way. Think I'm doing it wrong." He took a bite.

Owen loved his siblings, calling them all home the first chance he got when words of the Dance starting was reaching them. Some arrived before, during, and after but they came home. Their brother crowned King and them crowned as princes and princesses. The weight of it wouldn't crush them as long as he has his way.

"I would love to have more help...take no offense in my next question. Do you know what Jon did?"

for: @owenstark timestamp: early morning location marker: winterfell

it had been so long since dacey stark had a good night's sleep that the circles around her eyes were almost a permanent fixture. no, she spent her evenings in the glow of candlelight, weaving until her hands cramped, her vision blurred, and exhaustion finally overtook her body, usually just as the sun began to peek through winterfell's towers. then, there was only time to sleep for a few precious hours before she was on her feet again, facing another day that she didn't know if she had the energy to face.

there were often nights where dacey could not shut out the cacophony of disjointed thoughts that flitted through her mind, lingering only long enough to leave a lasting impression of worry or dread before slipping away before she had the chance to wrangle it into submission. there had been more nights like that recently, and tonight was one of them. her candles had burned down to stubs by the time the sun had risen. there was little point trying to fall asleep now. winterfell was beginning to awaken. from her window, she could see figures below, assuming their morning duties. instead, she readied herself for the day, and routed herself through the castle.

she had come to see her brother.

she knocked lightly on his door, but pushed it open before awaiting an answer. if he was here, he would be alone. if he was not here, then there was little point in lingering outside of an empty room. her eyes fell upon him, and a small smile curled around her lips. It was a smile of greeting, of warmth, even if there was little joy in it.

"I hope i'm not intruding," she began, hovering in the doorway, awaiting instruction to venture further in, or to turn to leave. "i'm sure you have a busy day ahead of you." her hands were clasped in front of her, but though she stood still, they did not rest, fingers twisting around one another, pulling mindlessly at the already raw skin around her nails. "If there is anything I can do - if you have need of me - you need only ask."