Fanfiction, Hobbies, Prose, Roleplaying Games

I’m playing in an ASOIAF RPG forum…

And I was cast for Cerissa Lannister. For those of you who don’t know what an RPG Forum is (or what an RPG is), is a Role-Playing Game Forum, where you create a character and basically narrate what he or she does in circumstances determined by a narrator or storyteller. In this case, the setting is the “A Song of Ice and Fire” universe (better known as “Game of Thrones”), and it’s an alternative universe.

This is what I wrote for the casting:

Year 181, Tenth Moon. Casterly Rock.
It’s the small things in life that make you realize what is really important. A kiss when you wake up, your son’s laughter when he chases a puppy, your daughter’s first embroidery and the pride in her eyes. Watching your son and husband go towards a battle, and knowing that even if it’s just a skirmish with some peasants, and that it is their duty to bring justice in the lands they rule, this could be the last time you saw them.

22 years ago I became the wife of Damon Lannister. In the beginning I did not feel any interest towards the blond heir of House Lannister. I found him conceited, arrogant, inflexible, with a cold heart. Because of him my father didn’t allow my marriage with Lord Westerling, of whom I was “deeply in love with”.

Summer love.

My love for young Lord Jon Westerling was like the foliage of trees in a forest: time changed it as winter changes trees. My love for Damon is like the deep, eternal rock: a source of scarce pleasure, but necessary. He is always, always in my thoughts, in my mind. It is not always an agreeable thing, of course, I don’t always like myself. There is more of me in him than in myself. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and Jon’s was as different as moonlight from lightning and ice from fire.

But that came later.

At the beginning, the only thing I felt towards him was a disdainful awareness. Yes, he was terribly handsome, with that golden mane and that intense stare, eyes green as emeralds. And just as my mother instructed me, I fulfilled my duties as a wife, all the time thinking about the life I would never have. But Damon… one day he brought me a daisy from a hunting trip. The poor flower came to me almost completely wilted, its petals dry and brown, after spending the whole day in the eyelet of his breastplate, and I took it with a grimace… couldn’t he have brought me something prettier? But then, while I was in the stable waiting for the stable boys to ready my mare so I could go out with my maid Janie, I heard them laugh of him and say he took the flower early in the morning and had carried it around the whole day, taking his men jokes and jibes, just so he could give it to me when he came back… and that, I have to admit, made my heart melt a little.

Little things.

Like that time, when at the Tournament of the Hand, Quentyn Ball unseated him from his horse, and I screamed in a way that all the ladies in the box seat made fun of me, and even Queen Naerys said, in that way she used to laugh, that my behavior was that of a little girl in love. It is beyond saying that I vehemently denied it, which made the Queen laugh harder. But that night I couldn’t avoid the tears that came to my eyes when I told Damon, with all the scorn I could muster, that the next time he intended to die he told me in advance, so I didn’t have to be present.

Like his voice when he told me that the next time he intended to die it would be when I wasn’t in his life anymore. That night we conceived Gerold.

Little gestures, like when I felt dizzy every time I stood up and instead of letting me walk he would carry me from room to room, and even though I scolded him for the impropriety of it all I so enjoyed his arms around me, and took the chance to put my head on his chest and hear his heart. Or when I saw him hold our baby for the first time, and my heart swelled up so much I thought it would explode. Or when three years old Myriella, insisted it was him who had to put ribbons in her hair, and he had no idea what to do. 

Little moments that make me realize that what we have, what he has given me, I would not trade it for the world.

– If you intend to die today, please let me know, so I can start making the necessary arrangements.

His smile, and the pat at Gerold’s back, encourage me. But even though it is small, fear won’t let me out of its grasp until I have them back home.

Let’s get inside, mother. It’s cold outside, and this rain will ruin our dresses. – Myriella, always sensible and assertive, took my arm, and we went back to our duties.

Little things that makes us realize what is really important.

Any feedback?

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