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♛ Lady of Rose Hall, Noelle Meyrane
The youngest daughter of Lord Gavin Meyrane I, Noelle is a perfect aristocratic lady in every sense of the word. As a child, she was good friends with the younger prince of Avere, but they grew distant after his mother, Queen Melarie, died. The people whisper that Lord Gavin Meyrane I is the epitome of what Meyranes are-cunning, ruthless, and ambitious-but they have never once thought the same about his youngest daughter, who hides her sharp intelligence and cold, calculating nature behind fluttering eyelashes and gowns dripping in pearls and lace. Polite, pristine, and extremely talented with the shadow magic that runs in her family’s veins, Noelle will stop at nothing to become queen and ruin her father, who had her married to a cruel man twenty years her senior when she was fourteen. Indeed, Noelle is perfectly aware that she is only a pawn in this latest scheme of his-having Prince Phillip Lanslet take her as a bride, that is-but she will play along, for now, until she can finally bring her father down, once and for all.
full name: Noelle Meyrane
23 | December 17th
status: Noelle has been an aristocrat her entire life, though she plans on becoming queen, one way or the other
likes: pearls, diamonds, and other precious jewels, gowns of silk and satin, intricate lacework, the colors white and silver (they go wonderfully with her complexion), snow, ice, the cold, elegant, expensive gowns that show off Noelle's impeccable taste, her set of small, thin stiletto daggers with intricately carved hilts studded with freshwater pearls, diamonds, and milky white crystals that can be disguised as ornate hairpins, power, independence, being respected for what she is truly capable of (or being viewed as just another pretty face, depending on the situation), white roses (she isn't too fond of bright reds, but wine-red and burgundy are alright), her magic, magic in general, revenge, well-mannered and sincere people (ironic, really, considering how two-faced Noelle can be), her family and those loyal to her family (excluding her father, of course), toying with and manipulating others, especially men (read: her father), the smell of the winter air, cloudy days, fresh blueberries, swans, daring rouges and lip tints, poison, power
dislikes: her father, incompetence, when something/someone unnecessarily ruins her hair or clothing, silly stories about true love and chivalry, relying on others, men who are only powerful because they're men, being sweaty, messy hair, dirty clothing, crude manners, her father, being underestimated because she's a woman by people she actually trusts (who are few and far in between), sloppiness and messiness in general, drunkards, useless and meaningless violence and destruction (could you get any more rude???), physical altercations (they're just so messy), large dogs (they slobber too much), her father, ale, swan meat, sweltering summer days, being a pawn in her father's infernal game of politics, feeling powerless or helpless, being forced to marry people for stupid reasons (like, if she's going to be forced to marry someone in the first place, it better be for a damn good reason), being viewed as "property" just because she's a girl, gender roles and stereotypes (even though she frequently uses them to her advantage), the smell of smoke, the color orange, oh, and did we mention her father?
personality: Noelle has always been a people person, with her impeccable manners and undeniable charm. There is something about her that seems to draw others to her-whether it's her carefree laugh, her twinkling eyes, or her bright smiles, no one can say. She can be an alluringly aloof temptress with her cool modesty and even cooler disdain, capable of charming the secrets right out of others with a coy glance and a flutter of her long eyelashes, or an innocent, demure young lady who has absolutely nothing to hide but plenty of gossip to share. She thinks with her heart when she needs to, but uses her brain at the same time.
Behind brown eyes sparkling with mirth and delicate lips curved up in a half-flirtatious, half-demure smile is a woman made of steel who is keenly aware of her surroundings. Noelle processes vast amounts of information all at once, taking in people's' actions, words, and emotions at the same time and forming a conclusion based on what she sees and what she knows. She's always been especially good at reading people like an open book. Sharply observant, perceptive, and brutally analytical, Noelle is able to detect even the most subtle shifts of emotion, assess entire situations with one inconspicuous sweep of her wide brown eyes, and kill a man in a dozen different ways while dancing (this, of course, remains a closely guarded secret). Noelle is constantly listening, though she’ll rarely tell the world what she's thinking.
Enigmatically charismatic and exuding an air of elegant refinement, Noelle puts up a calmly playful and chastely coquettish front all while maintaining a certain air of mystery that makes her that much more attractive. Depending on the people around her, Noelle is either a charming, well-mannered lady of considerable wealth and status or a coolly polite seductress of equally considerable wealth and status. Noelle does not portray herself as “smart” in the traditional sense of the word-and there is some truth to this, for although she is very talented with the shadow magic that runs in her family’s blood, complicated mathematics and the latest scientific discoveries all go straight over her head. However, she is able to hold her own in conversations about a wide variety of “sophisticated” topics, as befitting of a lady of her wealth and standing. When around other nobles, Noelle hides her true nature behind expensive silk gowns and delicate lace, pretending that she is an innocent little girl with easily offended morals. She has mastered the right combination of sugary sweetness and sharp wit to detract attention from her real intentions as she shrewdly advances her family's (read: her own) agenda.
Noelle is frighteningly manipulative, and she isn’t afraid of resorting to less savory methods to achieve her goals. Calm and collected in times of crisis, and Noelle rarely allows herself to panic. She is truly afraid of very, very few people, and she holds no qualms against playing others like a violin to get what she wants, all while smiling prettily and sipping wine from a dainty jeweled goblet. Sly, shrewd, and cunning, Noelle is an ice queen dressed in pearls and lace. Everything about her radiates confidence and refinement, from her just barely low-cut gowns to the diamonds glittering at her throat.
If one is able to see past the many, many layers and intricacies of Lady Noelle Meyrane of Rose Hall, one would come face-to-face with a bitter, cynical woman whose heart hardened much too early. There is part of her that longs for the childhood she once had, the one that was ripped away from her the day she left Rose Hall, but Noelle refuses to acknowledge that part of herself.
It’s better this way, for everyone.
about:
“You knew that this was going to happen.”
To say that Lady Noelle Meyrane, the White Rose of Avere, was angry was a bit of an understatement. Her father, Lord Gavin Meyrane I, finished reading the piece of parchment in front of him, took a sip of wine, and slowly, deliberately, looked up.
He was met with his daughter’s cold, flinty stare. “You knew that this was going to happen,” she said, again.
Noelle’s father returned her hard gaze with an equally hard one of his own. “No,” he replied. “I did not expect it.”
“Really.” Noelle’s voice was flat, emotionless. “You did not expect it.”
“No.”
A long silence.
There were many things that Noelle wanted to say, most of them highly improper for the daughter of an aristocrat. She held her tongue, though. Profanities would do nothing against someone like her father.
Noelle felt a bitter, hollow laugh welling up inside her. What father, she thought, sends his daughter to marry a man like Brynden?
Lord Brynden Sunter was (arguably) just as ruthless as Lord Gavin I himself. The only difference between her father and her (former) husband, Noelle thought, was the fact that Lord Brynden didn’t have a reputation to maintain.
The Sunter lords were sworn to House Cantell, technically, but it was a known fact that they did whatever the hell they wanted to. Since the days of King Alan and Queen Rosalie the Fair, the sons and daughters of House Sunter had served as the royal executioners.
They were cold and cruel and brutal, according to court gossip. Noelle had found this description to be quite accurate.
They were also unbelievably superstitious-at least, the commoners living on their lands were. The Sunters held a set of valleys deep within the Bellflower Mountains. From their fortress, Craghall, House Sunter commanded a smattering of mining villages. They were not a wealthy house, but tough and unyielding and forged from iron-they’d have to be, seeing as they protected the rest of Avere from vicious mountain raiders.
In short, nobody besides the Regent of Avere himself would dare to question a Sunter.
Noelle remembered everything painfully clearly-she was barely fourteen when her father dressed her up and sent her on her way to Craghall. It was cold, there, and Noelle was lonely.
The wedding was a rather dreary affair, but Noelle could handle that. It was what came after the wedding that made Noelle want to vomit.
She had known what came after, of course. Lady Melina Meyrane (formerly of House Eliane), Noelle’s mother, had told her everything. But that hadn’t made it any better.
The sound of her father clearing his throat drew Noelle back to the present. “You consummated the marriage, yes?”
He did more than just consummate, alright, Noelle almost spat out. Instead, she reined in her anger. “Yes,” she said, curtly.
Three miscarriages in two years. Only the last one, a boy, made it all the way to the actual birth, but he died no more than an hour later. It was a difficult birth, too; Noelle had inherited her mother’s slender frame and narrow hips. And the Sunters didn’t believe in herbal remedies and medicinal plants the way that the Elianes did.
That had been the last straw for the villagers. Two years of long, hard winters and crop failures, and now their lord’s new wife couldn’t even bear a healthy child?
The gods had forsaken them, they said.
Noelle was an evil demoness in disguise, they said.
Lord Brynden normally would not have tolerated this, but he, too, was growing impatient. He needed an heir, and Noelle wasn’t giving him one.
The villagers demanded that Noelle be given to the gods as a sacrifice. Her husband consented. And so when she was sixteen, Noelle was left on a cliff to die.
She remembers every inch of the tree they chained her to-how could she not, after being forced against it for so long?
Thankfully, it rained several times during that first week, otherwise she would have died right then and there. When they came, though, Noelle was so hungry that she couldn’t think, couldn’t sleep. The only thing that she was aware of was how empty her stomach felt.
When they came, Noelle had thought she was hallucinating. When they released her from the shackles that held her against that stupid tree, Noelle had thought she was having a particularly nice dream.
When they gave her food to eat, she ate. But when they were still there after she was finished, Noelle was perplexed.
She took a good, long look at the two of them-one of them had traditionally Cantell features; hair and eyes like mud and tree bark, and skin as white as freshly-fallen snow. The other had dark hair and pale eyes the color of the gray skies of the Roselands.
Noelle recognized them from the statues and paintings, then. She had never been particularly pious, but you’d have to be blind to not recognize Meyra and Tien.
Tien, the god of mud and mountain and mischief, gave her a cheeky grin. Meyra, the goddess of death and darkness and revenge, took a step forward.
Noelle didn’t move. Meyra spoke.
“When you return to court, tell the prince that the prophet speaks the truth,” said Meyra.
Noelle felt dizzy. “Which prince?” She whispered.
Meyra gave her a droll smile. “There’s only one, now,” and Noelle remembered that her husband had been preparing to go to the border, that there was a war.
“Prince Alain’s dead?”
Meyra nodded. “As dead as dust.”
Noelle remembered Phillip, then. She and Phillip had been good friends before his mother died. He’d adored his brother, she remembered.
Her older brother, Gavin, had been friends with Alain too. She wondered, distantly, if Gavin had been there when he died.
Noelle drew in a breath. She felt dizzy and weak. “Why can’t you tell him yourself?”
Meyra arched an eyebrow. “Sol won’t let me step foot in Mariellen without throwing a tantrum after your...what would it be, your great-great uncle? Royce.” She glanced at Tien. “And he doesn’t trust him.”
It took a moment for Noelle to realize that the goddess was referring to Solaris, the god of the sun and sky and House Lanslet’s patron deity. Noelle hesitated, though. It felt too much like a trap.
As if sensing her thoughts, Meyra rolled her eyes. “Tell you what, Elle,” and Noelle stiffened at the sound of her nickname. “Tien here will make sure you survive this...situation, if you agree. Alright?”
Noelle’s breath caught in her throat, and she allowed herself to hope. It was just a simple sentence, anyway. No big deal. “Alright,” she replied, carefully. “But I have one more condition.”
“Which is?”
“Kill my husband.” She gave the two deities a steady, unwavering look. “You can do that, right?”
Meyra let out a low, amused chuckle. “Sweetheart, I’m the goddess of death. Consider it done.” The two turned to go.
“Make it painful,” Noelle called after them, and the sound of Meyra’s laugh as she disappeared into the mist would carry her through the long days and nights that were to follow.
And now Noelle was home, after months of traveling and waiting. A villager from the Golden Valley found her “by chance”, and alerted her father. The official story was that she had been kidnapped by “mountain raiders” (who had also taken the opportunity to wipe House Sunter out of existence, apparently), but escaped. She was escorted home with all the comforts and luxuries befitting a lady of her station.
Of course, Noelle’s father knew exactly what happened (barring her encounter with the gods, hopefully). And Noelle was not fooled one bit by his act.
She watched him take another sip of wine. “I heard about the children.”
Noelle’s jaw tightened. “Oh?”
He glanced up at her. “Nobody else has. They think the raiders killed the children, and we will keep it that way.”
“For what reason?” Noelle’s voice was frosty.
Her father shuffled through a few pieces of parchment. “When an acceptable period-for mourning purposes, of course-has passed, you will go to Marles with your brother and sister. I’m sending you to court.”
Noelle arched an eyebrow. “And?”
“And I will offer your hand in marriage to Prince Phillip, and when he ascends the throne, you will be a queen. Like Rosalie the Fair.” He gave her a cold smile. “Would you like that, Elle?”
“Don’t call me that,” Noelle responded automatically, though her mind was whirling. A queen?
I’d like that a lot, Father. But there is more to this plan. You want the throne for yourself. Do you truly expect me to help you, after everything you’ve done to me already? Do you take me for a fool? You forget what Rosalie did to Gavin the Cunning.
Lord Gavin Meyrane I was still speaking. “Of course, the prince has been suspicious of us since the war, but I trust that you will be able to win him over.”
There was a commotion coming from the hall. Noelle saw, with a slight shock that she hid spectacularly well, that the roses in the courtyard the window of her father’s study overlooked had turned completely white, instead of their usual blood red. She lifted her eyes to the pale, misty sky-was this Meyra’s doing?
Noelle’s attention returned to her father. “He’s just a man, Father.”
Lord Gavin smiled wolfishly, a slow spreading of his lips that bared his teeth. “So you’ll do it?”
Noelle shrugged with a breezy nonchalance that she did not feel. “Why not?”
about their duties: Duties?! What duties??? As if Lord Gavin Meyrane I would ever entrust something as important as duties to a woman.
No; as far as her father is concerned, Noelle’s only job is to be a pretty pawn in his game; her only duty is to seduce the prince so that House Meyrane can seize the throne once and for all.
Well. Needless to say, Noelle has other plans.
defining moments: When Noelle realized that she was just a pretty pawn in her father’s chess game of politics (she was only around ten at the time, but she could see it), her slow realization that her older sister was jealous of her when they were children, everything that happened at Craghall (and Noelle swore to herself that she would never, ever let somebody do that to her again)
hardships they have faced: Besides that whole debacle with Lord Sunter, not much...though Noelle would like to think that being left on a cliff to die is enough hardship for one lifetime
top 3 priorities: becoming queen, becoming queen, and becoming queen (and, of course, ruining her father. But that will come naturally once she’s queen)
There’s also that thing about the prophet. But is it really a priority?
strengths: Noelle is very talented with her family’s shadow magic, and she is very practical and has both feet planted firmly on the ground. She is capable of saying exactly what she means without saying anything at all, as well as flattering and insulting someone in the same breath. In a physical altercation (not that she would ever seek one of these out-they're so terribly uncouth), Noelle would be capable of holding her own with her shadow magic and her pretty little stiletto blades (they're more dangerous than they look!). Where Noelle truly excels, however, is with words and outward appearances. Noelle is more than capable of bandying words about all day long, and she is extremely perceptive when it comes to what others are thinking or feeling. She has all of Avere seeing her as nothing but a pretty and extremely well-mannered aristocrat, and Noelle doesn't know if she loves or hates this.
If information is the game, then Noelle is a merchant of great renown. Capable of lying, manipulating, seducing, or blackmailing her way to someone's secrets, Noelle will have what she wants out of someone before they even realize she has her sights set on them. She changes personas as easily as she changes gowns; one minute, she's a demure young girl with dreamy eyes and a smile like the summer breeze, and the next, she's a coolly charismatic seductress who will play with her victim like a cat plays with a mouse, torturing them with polite words and coy looks.
Noelle fights with words just as well as she fights with her tiny little daggers. She's very discreet about it all, and if she wants to draw blood, you won't know it until the crimson liquid is oozing out of the wound. Noelle hates it when things get messy, though, so she mostly fights with her fluttering eyelashes and coy smiles and threats cleverly disguised as compliments. If she is engaged in an all-out fight (as improbable as it may be), she fights with a deadly, devastating grace, all tricksy shadows and flashing blades.
weaknesses: Noelle has a lack of brute physical strength (it's not proper for a lady of her standing to be strong like that, according to Averetian customs), and an inability to trust others outside her family (and even within her family, come to think of it-Noelle trusts her father just about as far as she can throw him). Noelle has a rather cynical and bitter view of the world (she doesn't believe in true love, for example), and she has a tendency to be very judgmental of others. She burns with a need for vengeance against her father for what he did to her and for what he views her as, though it's more of a slow, steady simmer that Noelle forces deep down inside of her than a raging inferno that has the potential to cause rash words and rasher actions. She believes that people are not inherently good nor evil, but that it is easier to be evil in difficult situations, so people tend to be selfish and greedy-Noelle herself included.
weapon of choice: A set of extremely thin stiletto daggers that can be easily disguised as hairpins. They are a pretty silver color, with crystals and freshwater pearls decorating the “hilts”. Noelle is very fond of wearing them in her hair, no matter what the occasion.
stance on war: Noelle firmly believes that 95% of all the wars fought are completely pointless. Noelle is someone who would rather fight with words and political maneuvers than fire and steel; she believes that almost all conflict can be solved by talking it out.
Of course, then there are wars that are deliberately initiated by rulers as political moves or in order to expand their territory. Noelle recognizes that there’s really no way around the violence when it comes to these kinds of wars, though she would still very much rather blackmail or double-cross her way to the top.
stance on magic: Noelle has no patience for pretentious rhetoric about how magic is a transcendental force that elevates the aristocracy above the common people and other drivel like that (it's a very elitist way of putting things, and it's gotten way too many innocent people killed in the past). If the gods are fair and just, why doesn't her sister have magic? Why don't the commoners?
Noelle secretly thinks that the gods are quite petty, though she respects the patron goddess of Avere, of course (you’d be a fool if you didn’t, honestly). She does love her shadow magic so very much, and all the amazing things that the other aristocrats can do never fail to amaze her. Magic is a good thing-a very good thing-and Noelle is aware of what a blessing magic is, especially in Avere. She's seen first-hand how people treat men and women who were born without magic. It's both a blessing and a curse, and Noelle recognizes that disputes in between the Averetian aristocracy and the common people will always exist due to this magic.
relationship status: was once married and is now not involved in any engagaements, but she’s only got eyes for the prince
model: Neelam Gill
... Więcej