OLD RP - The Crownlands

Hypnos TheAncientCelt

As they entered the Red Keep, Viserys could feel something inside him stir. Instincts, blood rushing faster through his veins. This was his ancestral home, no matter how many generations removed. Like a salmon, the Blackfyre somehow understood that he belonged here. The neutrality he had for King's Landing as a city faded before the magnificence of the Targaryen Keep. Such sensations only increased as they moved further inside, entering the Hand's personal study to discuss what would be a sore topic for the man. His Tiger Cloaks were left in the courtyard, under the supervision of at least twice as much guards and Gold Cloaks. Once inside the study, the purple eyes inquisitively roamed through it, seeking anything to give him further insight on the Hand as a person. . Any little added information could prove valuable if Viserys were to leave this strange land without a bounty on his head, something he suspected the cold Aenar direly desired.

The offer of wine was generous, Viserys couldn't say no to it. "If you'd be so kind." He gave a more sincere and natural smile, small on his lips, as a glass was poured for him. He'd not been well studied in Westerosi wine. Lyseni pirates made it difficult to casually bring it over and local vineyards were of such a quality that his curiosity never was piqued to the West.

The Dragon sniffed the aroma, finding it pleasant enough before swirling the liquid in the glass. Taking a first sip, Viserys found the drink not entirely unpleasant. An acquired taste, no doubt. But in time, the Blackfyre Triarch could see himself enjoying it. With the right meals, it might even surpass some local beverages. "It's not exactly my kind of drink, I'm accustom to a style wholly different though. It's enjoyable, for something so new." He answered honestly, trying to keep things pleasant between them. Every so often, during their walk over to the Red Keep, the mistakes that Viserys made piled on him and threatened to redden his cheeks again. One or two words to describe his specific actions and thought process cropped up. 'Asshole', the more common of the two. 'Bewildered' the other, more generous term he gave himself. 'I acted completely out of line. . They didn't know of my encroachment and I demanded a red carpet and crown of leaves upon arrival.'

With another sip of the Arbor wine, Viserys nodded at the words the hand spoke. Waiting to respond. His lips quivered, his tongue dashed to the roof of his mouth only to stall as the woman spoke. Miranda, who the Hand referred to as Lady - so she likely wasn't a prostitute. Her skills or "insight" gave a hint at a more cunning purpose. Once Miranda finished, Viserys cleared his throat to announce his responses.


"Before I address the concerns over the letter and the validity of my presence here," His accent became more noticeable as he spoke this time, the attempts to hide it thrown to the way side. "I'd appreciate our time here to formally apologize for this debacle and my attitude earlier, to either of you." Viserys believed he wasn't. . Rude, or overly so, to either of them. But he could be a sour grape when roused into anger like he had been, the situation looking more like the Bull Elephant was being ignored and treated like a lowly plebeian than the man of a high position. He could understand the Hand's frosted reception to Viserys, he might be the same if Lord Aenar appeared in Volantis one day, demanding to see him on a feast of the Holy Fire.

"Lord Hand, you might be able to sympathize. . The letter had made me assume some things that now strike me as untrue. Waiting for some representative of his grace for the early hours after a long voyage, only to receive the fishermen of the dawn skies. . Well." An awkward, lopsided smile came over him alongside another blush. "I've made myself out to be the rear end of an Elephant on my first trip to Westeros, haven't I?" There wasn't a point in denying that.

As prideful of a man as Viserys was, he could admit his faults. Especially when in a situation as dire as this. It was the foolish and the dead who couldn't swallow their pride and demanded to face an executioners blade rather than admit a wrong. Viserys came with only hostile fantasies, but practically arrived with a small fortune - all for the groom and bride. It helped that Aenar was no direct threat or rival to Viserys' political power. If he were a magistrate of another city, things would be different. Or even a rival Triarch in Volantis, but he was a man that was far away and not long for his position, holding maybe five years left before the elderly king passed and his heir replaced Aenar.

"I welcome all investigations into the matter, but it was no raven who gave me the letter. A rider who claimed to be from Pentos, holding an unopened seal of the three headed dragon. Behold my surprise as I opened it and. . Perhaps foolishly believed it was Maegor and his Council attempting to bridge an old divide? Well, if Prince Aegon has sent it, I'll feel no such shame in arriving. I have gifts and an opportunity to speak to rich Westerosi Lords." Viserys spoke confidently and calmly, not reacting harshly to the stoney demeanor of the man opposite of him. His words were honest and devoid of the showmanship he displayed when out in the open. Relaxed, calm, and with wine in his hand, the Black Dragon responded further. "I would insist we ask Prince Aegon before the affairs of the day get ahead of us. My presence here, wanted or not, hinges on his words."


Viserys sipped more of the beverage, finding it more appealing as it flooded his throat and entered his gullet. "May I ask a question, Lord hand and Lady Miranda?" he forewent what the woman requested. Aenar treated Miranda as a lady and if he were to show disrespect in front of the frigid man, the Black Dragon estimated that his chances of having his question answered would be nil. "Am I to be detained here? A replica of my ancestor, Aenys? I understand the hesitance, whenever my kind comes to this land it seems an ambition to sit that throne arises. Fear not, I have my hands full with a city many weeks away." He straightened his back and glanced at Miranda. It was odd that she chose to stand, something that didn't quite sit well with Viserys. Did she believe that she needed some distance from the man in case he decided to attack Aenar and herself? 'That'd be quite the assumption. .' Her standing frame gave Viserys a better opportunity to gaze at the woman. She wasn't unattractive, a healthy looking girl from beyond the Narrow Sea. Dark of hair and with a pleasant skin tone. Not someone he'd haggle to get into the bedchamber with, but a fine sight all the same.

"My interests here lie in enjoying myself, discussing possible deals with lords of Lannister and Tyrell, the Crown was on my list too. . But I believe you might wish me to stay clear of his highness, if I am given your permission to wander this country." The Blackfyre King half expected to be taken to the docks and told to leave or stripped down to his small clothes and sent to the black cells. The latter was a worst case scenario whereas the former would ruin his reputation. 'Every Volantine saw me off. And here I am, uninvited to a king's wedding and told to return home.'

diwa
Hypnos

ODELLA ARRYN
"So the Baratheon box it is," Odella concluded, eyes playing over her brother's for a moment more before his voice faded off contemplatively. She didn't trouble herself with attempting to make conversation with the younger, instead thinking to her older brothers shenanigans, and quickening her pace to a march with the consequential perturbation that arose with such thoughts.

"if only my dear, dear brother had someone like you accompanying him," she addressed her servant thoughtfully, voice lowered so that the conversation could only reach his ears and not beyond to some eavesdropping naysayer. The Baratheon box quickly loomed before Odella, said lady pausing before the guard with a raised eyebrow, as if daring the man to block her path. The guard coughed, nervously casting a glance in the Lady Baratheon's general direction.

"I'm afraid m'lady will have to approve your entry, Lady.." he trailed off, and Odella broke in, though annoyance pervaded her tone.

"Lady and little lord Arryn. Here to see there brother."


Eddard Stark
Upon being dismissed by his father, Eddard had miserably made his way along the sloping roads towards where the melee was being hosted at a reluctant pace. He hadn't made any secret his displeasure at having to accompany his family south. He hated the weather, hated the people and the generic warmth that accompanied such heat. And it wasn't as if he was even coming for any truly magnificent occasion. It was just a random Baratheon and the what - 7th or 8th Targaryen prince's wedding? God, they spawned like rabbits, those Targaryens. And it wasn't as if the newly-wed's were going to be the next to sit on the iron throne.

An increase in the amount of chaos about him alerted Eddard to the fact that he'd reached the melee grounds. A surge of that chronic anxiety that came with being the object of so many curious, common eyes overwhelmed him for a moment. He gritted his teeth and forced his feet to proceed onward 'till he'd reached the Stark and Bolton box. One of his siblings, the Bolton children, and the... Ashwood children around that age range were exiting the box just as he'd readied himself to enter it. He fell into step beside them, a mirth-filled smile for once twisting up the corner of his lips.

"Didn't know father would let a lesser house accompany us," he observed aloud, eyes sliding over the members of the house that despite being Northern, rarely had the prestige to attend father's little events. Spotting Talia Bolton nearby, Eddard faulted it too be one of her little schemes. The purpose of which, he had no interest in. But the trouble-maker within Eddard reared and struck what he hoped was gold. "but I guess it's all about who you know, right? Unless there's a little love affair going on.."

He trailed off contemplatively, eyes dancing with impish mirth as his fingers waggled between Talia and Damien

TheAncientCelt
Obi-Wan Kenobi

The Ashwood kids were a bit disappointed that they couldn't see the melee, thanks to Lord Stark of Winterfell. Of course, none of them showed their letdown and decided to follow the kids from the high noble Houses. Daimen followed with Talia by his side with her holding his arm. Catherine was with Isabella and Daniel was behind his sisters still sad that he couldn't see those legendary warriors of Westeros.

Even if they had been invited, the four siblings still felt like they didn't belong there, between the richest and healthiest youngsters of the North. Daimen didn't open his mouth, still thinking about Talia Bolton's last words about him being more worth than what he thought, her voice sounding mysterious and alluring. However, he had a feeling that he was walking towards a trap, but he couldn't do nothing with it without causing trouble to his family.

Daniel looked at Rodwell Stark, probably the only man who he could talk without being nervous. The guy is an honorable man and to strangers he might seem rude and unfriendly, but to those who know him well and are part of his list of friends, he is kindhearted. Daniel turned his attention to his surrounds, trying to find another recent friend he made in King's Landing. Of course he was talking about Evelyn, but he doubted she would even put her feet on the streets. After all, she belonged to the Mistress of Whispers and that means are life took place in Red Keep. Daniel didn't know a lot about her job so he couldn't make presumptions about her or her life style.

Daimen was trying to not to stand out, but the fact he had Lord Bolton's daughter right next to him didn't help. Of course, his peace didn't las long when another House Stark member appeared. Eddard Stark, a trouble-maker who the Ashwood never really played much attention to. When the Stark boy looked at Daimen and his siblings, the eldest son of House Ashwood knew exactly what he would say before the guy even opened his mouth. "Lord Stark let us stay, just like Lord Bolton. My lady here invited us to watch the melee, but now we are going to have a walk on the city, my lord" Daimen said bowing to Eddard Stark.

Daimen couldn't even speak after Eddard's last sentence. He blushed a bit but shook his head. "M-my lord, I am afraid you are wrong. Lady Bolton is simply being nice to us, allies of the House Stark and House Bolton alike." he explainned "I promisse you, there is no sort of relationship between us and I would never dream of having it. A low noble like ourselves do not deserve high nobles like yourselves" he finished.

Asua Azalea Obi-Wan Kenobi

Had his brother by marriage spoken those words any louder, Cregan would've been forced to reprimand him. Had he missed the meaning of those words? It was a warning, not a lecture or an attempt to talk down his cousin. Choosing to ignore the snide remark from the Bolton Lord, Cregan ventured to his seat and remained in momentary silence after his Lannister remarks. The kids and young ones were leaving. 'Good.' They were free to watch the melee still from any other lower platform, but Cregan would not celebrate the knightly nature of the Southron peoples. A warrior fought not for the honors of a rabid crowd or for a woman, he fought because it was his duty to keep safe his land. 'He does not fight for a prize of gold but the acknowledgement of his ancestors. Of the Gods.' This. . This was a farce. It was precisely the reason why Cregan was so reserved when it came to displaying his abilities openly. Far from the best warrior in the North, even excluding The Wall and Beyond, Cregan could hold his own with a fair amount of fighters. He saw how these Southron knights moved, their dashes and parries, what angle their elbows drifted to when on the verge of a sweeping strike. They all fought the same with little variation, afraid of changing their ways because it meant losing a duel. 'No child of mind will look on a pair of knights dueling in some melee and admire them for it.' He shook his head a final time, looking to the scarce members of the box still.

There was his cousin, who's comment still rubbed Cregan poorly. And Lord Ashwood, who seemed to be content in his silence. With a huff, Lord Stark adjusted himself in the Lord's seat and spoke aloud. "You've been silent, Cuz, Lord William." He folded his arms together, glancing at the men as he mentioned them. "How long have the two of you been in the city, then? Some time now? Have you seen the King yet?" The rumor of the King's ill health worried Cregan. Maegor wasn't a man the Stark lord knew well, but he was the king for the last thirty years who kept the Seven Kingdoms in a relative stillness. Did any of his children have the same capacity for peace keeping as the father? 'Time will tell.' He had half a mind to track down the Hand and question him heavily on the affairs below the Neck, but that would be imporper. Stark would be here for a few more days and then return to the North. Hopefully never returning so far south again. 'Maybe Prince Aegor will accept a letter containing my oaths of loyalty?' He half smiled at his internal musings, no. That would be an example of the same lack of discipline the South experienced. 'Just one more venture south, and that will be for a few days as well. Then I can remain in Winterfell. . . The Wolfswood, White Harbor. . My homes till the day I die.' It was a simple aspiration. Live and let live. Pass on and give Rodwell a good example to follow. Regain the honorable name that the Stark's were once known for, that very same name that took a hit some seventy years ago. "I've yet to see his grace, they're not letting anyone get to him. Not when I was around. . I worry for his health. What that may mean for the realms."

Another pause, "The North itself has no shortage of issues. Repeated complaints come about the ironwood and supposed thefts, but I've been slow on that task." Cregan rarely would speak about the tasks he faced as the Warden of the North. He was a silent man who dealt with it all and showed no strain in doing so, but when needing help, it was Rogar Bolton who was often sent a raven. Never had he spoke so openly around William Ashwood before. "Not to mention a request sent to me about arranging for some help to be sent to the Watch. Fodder, horses, pigs. . . Gold dragons and most importantly, men. They suggest that the Wildlings are banding together once more." He refused to utter the words, but the others might've heard the same rumors. 'Four new Kings beyond the Wall.' Four was a good number. They would fight and bloody each other before turning their gaze southward. 'If it is a dire as the maester at Castle Black paints it, I'll have ample time to support the Watch.'

Asua
JPTheWarrior

Though Dyana had been ordered to watch and report Nymeria's activites after her failure with Cayden Martell, she couldn't help but like the Desert Flower, who was the only one who ever showed true kindness and friendship, even if she knew who Dyana truly was. Dyana was hoping she wouldn't have to see another awful person today but the Gods weren't answering her prays. Of course, she was talking about one of the worst men alive, Lord Jasper Arryn himself, who was the personification of uncontrolled lust, greed and avarice.

Unfortunately, Nymeria brought the young disgusting man to her room and maybe but just maybe there was a little chance it was just to have a conversation. Dyana's optimism was crashed when they went to bed together, all of the other handmaidens watching. Honestly, everyone was pretty used to it by now. Dyana didn't show any emotion while the two had their little fun but the young girl couldn't help but think why would Nymeria open herself with someone like Lord Arryn, whose rumors of him being the one who killed his father had reached the assassin guild she worked for, White Lotus.

After everything was done, the boy left and Dyana would follow Nymeria's orders and change the bedsheets but she decided to speak what she had in mind first and then start working "Why him, Nymeria?" she asked, not afraid or uncomfortable by calling the future Lady Martell by her first name. "Was he even worth it?" she asked one more question before deciding to close her mouth and wait for the mistress' response. After all, it wasn't even Dyana's business to begin with.

Nymeria turned and looked at Dyana, raising her eye brow in amusement. Dyana was one of the more blunt of her collected family, trained as an assassin who spent years hiding her emotion. It had taking some time to tease anything out of her and while it was better then it had been years before, she was still near emotionless much of the time, a face that frusterated her to no end, though it seemed she didn't like Jasper enough to voice her distaste which was rare. She would stand, running a hand through her hair to throw it behind her neck she would walk naked to her dresser, her skin clear and beautiful as she sat down on the chair, glancing at Dyana with a smile. "Come brush my hair, its all a mess from the bed." She says, waiitng for her.

When she came over only then would Nymeria begin to speak. "He is lord of the Vale and a new ruler at that. My Grandfather may have known his father but his son is a different matter entirely. Better i fooster a relationship now with him early in his reign rather the wait till later. If i can get some influence him maybe we can work out a trade deal, ethier way its important now to figure out what kind of man he is, so we don't waste our time just in case." She said, leaning back into Dyana a bit before sitting up, her breasts heaving slightly as she moved. "Were you worried?" She asked, looking up at her through her long lashes

Dyana sighed and nodded upon hearing Nymeria's request to take care of her hair. Dyana grabbed a hairbrush and walked to her mistress, kneeling down and starting to fix the desert flower's hair. She started passing the brush through Nymeria's long brown hair, hearing the woman's explanation. Dyana finished and her hair wasn't messy anymore, ready for her to go outside. Dyana raised her head and thought about an answer to Nymeria's question. Her face never once showed emotion during those minutes, Dyana only shrugged her shoulders and said "I guess I think you deserve much more than that pig" she also got up, her eyes never looking away from Nymeria's. "A relationship with someone who would only care you because of your looks is dangerous. Even if it is just an alliance, I bet that Arryn guy will quickly betray you once he knows he can't go to bed with you anymore or he finds a more beautiful girl" she gave her opinion on the matter and then gave her a quick and small smile before saying "But I guess that would be difficult, finding a prettier girl I mean" she said before walking back to the table and laying the hairbrush. "Need anything else Nymeria?" she asked.

Nymeria giggles at her first comment, her face growing a bit more serious at the rest, letting her know that she was honestly considering her opinion as she spoke. "He might, I didn't get any good impressions from him thus far, and there are those rumors as well but ill be safe Dyana. I am the heir of house Martell, theres only so much he can strike against me. Its a relationship for convience, it won't change much if it falls through. Besides, i have you to protect me don't I?" She said, her smile returning as she leaned her head against Dyana for a moment before standing, going to her closet to get her dress. "Walk with us to the melee field, i want you to watch with us this time." She said, her voice coy and playful.

Dyana sighed nodding her head "Alright, if you say so. And where would you be if it wasn't for me" she said with another small smile. When Nymeria leaned her head against Dyana's her body wanted to back away. Even after all this years, being so close to someone made her uncomfortable. She disliked it when it was with strangers but with Nymeria was different. She felt felt a bit uncomfortable and nervous, since she never really had any show of real affection. That reason alone made her unable to deal with the emotion of affection and kindness. However, she managed to control her instinct and didn't take steps back. Fortunately, the moment was quick and Nymeria was already walking towards her closet to change into a dress for the melee. Dyana was about to walk to the bed and change the sheets but her mistress spoke, inviting her to watch the melee. The young assassin looked back to the desert flower and nodded "I will" she said with a nod and walked quickly to her bedroom, going to the closet and changing into a dress. She then came back to Nymeria ready to go and see that melee where Lewyn Martell, the brother of her mistress, would participate. The two women, plus other handmaidens walked to the stadium where they stood next to the royal family, Dyana not daring to open her mouth.

Akio

Eddard Stark
Watching the Ashwood react with embarrassment, Edd pursed his lips to disguise a smile for half a second, in attempts to appear as stiff and serious as said boy. He was unused to the semi-formal manner with which Daniel addressed him, though he enjoyed it nonetheless. Pursing his lips and directing his eyes skyward sagely, as his father might, Eddard cough roughly to cover up a laugh. He gave up rather quickly, an amiable chortle being issued from his lips before he threw a hand forward and clapped the Ashwood on the back.

"Nonsense, I'm sure any high born lady would be simply..." he trailed off, selecting his next words with presumptuous verbiage. "tickled with glee to receive anyone from your house. Don't be so quick to put yourself down."

When his grandfather started training him Lewyn had always been told to be humble and not to let himself fall to overconfidence, fighters even better then him had fallen to the curse of simply overestimating themselves and putting themselves in situations they were not capable of dealing with. But at the same time he had been told to be aware of his capabilities, and never underestimate what he could do, because both were fatally lethal. In a competition like this he would need to conserve every spare scrap of energy if he wanted a chance at victory, though he knew it would not be easy. There was at least one fighter in the arena he knew to be as strong or stronger then he was. As soon as the bell rang he found his gaze finding Martyn Lannister. The Mountain Lion, and the best sword in all the West. The Mountain Lion had a true chance of winning this melee and it seemed for now he stood with his cousin Albert. But what made him eyes draw tight and his expression start to become thunderous. Martyn would be surrounded by Lionsguard. Was he really planning to enter the battle like that? He didn't know much about Martyn, only knowing him to be a quiet man of few words when he saw him, and that Celena spoke highly of him and his opinion had also been made fairly high as a result. But seeing him about to enter the battle with that many guards called his initially high opinion to start to dwindle. He snorted, turning towards him, they were on opposite sides of the field. Going through the middle was suicide, he would have to go through the edges if he wanted to get close to them. He would arc away from Dalton and make his way around to get to them, he would not let him go unchallenged, especially if they planned to fight together.

When the melee was called into action Lewyn immediately set off, gaining some distance from the Greyjoy next to him as he turned his head to him. "Farewell, perhaps I will see you in the final matches." He said, a final respect and showing he did not underestimate the warrior despite his lack of skill on horse as he advanced to the right, his horse heading off at almost a gallop as he set off full speed from the start. He could go faster but decided against it, his horsemenship was passable but hardly legendary, nor as good as he heard his grandfathers was at that time of his youth. The confines of the arena were not small but not massive either, and the rain had made the ground dangerous. There was no reason to go full speed from the start even if he was in a hurry. While the majority of knights charged for the middle, which from almost the moment the melee was called to begin became a confusing mess of thrashing horses, falling bodies, and the clang of steel on steel. He ignored it for now and instead found himself facing one guy who had been sitting on the edges but apon realizing he was coming at him turned his lance at him and started to charge him. Lewyn did not bring a lance, it was not what he was skilled with. Instead he had his sword out and his shield strapped to his arm, with a sword sword on his hip as his trump card if things got dicey. The lance would hit him long before he had the chance to strike so he raised his shield and came to meet him.

They came at each other, the man was obviously at least a fair lance as even as his horse threw up mud under its hooves he kept his lance steady and Lewyn prepared for the impact which came with the sound of crashing metal and Lewyn swayed with the blow but had angled his shield at the last moment so the lance slid off rather then slam directly in and it pulled the man off balance for a moment as Lewyn rather then ridding past turns his horse around immediately and getting in close from the other side causing the man to immediately drop his lance and go for his sword but it was too little to late with him inside his guard. He swung at him and the man raised his shield to meet it, the sound of steel hacking on wood as he hacked at the man shield as he tried to draw his sword with his other hand. Managing to draw it he cut sideways at Lewyn but Lewyn blocked with his own shield and then bashed the man hard with his shield, sending him careening off his horse and into the mud which shook him and his horse finally free, sprinted away from the clashing of metal and Lewyn pointed his sword at him. "Yield." He would say, his voice flinty in his rage, even if it was not directed at him and the man waited only for a moment, obviously shaken, before yielding and without hesitation Lewyn turned his horse and rode on, leaving the man to pick himself out of the mud.
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Nymeria matched the hands smile with plenty of sincerity of her own. Thus far she liked the old man. Something about him reminded of her Grandfather Cayden who sat right behind her. Perhaps it was a combination of a few things. The weathered hands that reminded her of Cayden who would tell her stories till she fell asleep, the wisdom in his eyes that betrayed a wide variety of experiences. While she felt to some extent he was holding back something he wanted to say watching his smile take on a genuine tone couldn't help but please her. However suddenly his smile was cut off as she watched his gaze roam off her and somewhere out to the stands around the field and almost by instinct her eyes followed in and when she looked in the direction he was starring she too caught on to the surprise guest, her expression growing faintly alarmed. The Blackfyres, why were they here? She shot a glance at Cayden who almost as if feeling her gaze glanced up at her and seeming to read the panic nodded and that seemed to calm her. Whatever the coming of the Blackfyres meant it didn't change anything, because even if the Hand could not handle it, the lord of Dorne would take care of it.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she smiled at the hand as he called his own leave and nodded, keeping her own expression clear once again, using her training to hide her worry. This was not the place to think about the Blackfyres. "Of course my lord. The work is never done. Perhaps i will see you later during the wedding." She said with a nod before she turns back to Vaella, deciding to focus on building her relationship with Vaella. Turning to the melee field she sought out her brother only to see him racing across the field around the edges. Her eyes furrowed as she tried to guess what her brother was doing while still pointing it out to the princess. "Look Vaella, do you see Lewyn riding over there?" She said pointing him out as she came directly at a knight with a Lance who came to meet him, engaging is a quick battle but eventually getting cut down. "What do you think hes aiming for?" She asked, the confusion in her voice evident.
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Cayden frowned as Rhaenyra spoke, turning his head to look at her as she spoke. Cayden was no stranger to the lord of light, running into many of his followers in Essos but Rhaenyras obsession with him disturbed her. He cared not if she kept a different believe but speaking about it in present company was something completely different matter. "Remember the company we keep Rhaenyra, let us not speak about gods here. Besides while he should do well the field has many excellent pickings this year. It will not be an easy task to rank highly. In addition he seems to be racing off somewhere. He likely has some goal in mind for this melee already. I just hope he doesn't overreach himself and get himself injured, that is where my concern now. Lewyn has the skills and temperament to do well. But knowing when to give in is an important skill for a fighter as well. I just hope he remembers this." He said, taking another draft of the fortifying mixture.

Rhaenyra was a member of his family and both his grandchilden adored him but a few things had made him more weary of her recently. Her priest was a constant source of trouble in the Sandship and had made Rhaenyra as inflexible in her believes as himself and it was leading to many things he would consider dangerous. Falon was in control of Dorne and he trusted her with his own life, but he hoped nothing happened while he was away. He had enough problems to deal with, Aelyx next to him had already proved to him that the grab for the throne was coming, now was not the time to have to deal with internal matters when much of Westeros had the potential to turn on each other. He would have to gather his people soon to brace against the coming storm, he could only hope the storm would put out the fire as well at least for a time so he could focus at the task at hand.
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Even as she greeted him Aegon couldn't take her eyes off her. The resemblance was even more uncanny then he imagined, and even her attitude from her days was present as well though by her throwing panicked glances back at the one he guessed was her mother she had a bit of more of a reliance on her mother. "Visenya, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He said, the compliment easily rolling off his tongue, and in truth it wasn't a lie either. With large doe eyes and perfectly smooth skin, as well as her beautiful platinum blond hair from her Targaryen heritage she was beautiful, even disregarding her resemblance to the woman by the balcony. Glancing at the woman behind her who he believed was her mother, he found he could somewhat recognize her. Daena Celtigar, a member of his family who he had heard rumors about, many claiming her to be a whore till she was married and perhaps even during so her marriage. He supposed it was not a surprise she had a child though it was a surprise he never met her a before but he soon refocused on the girl in front of him.

Daniel Ashwood had a feeling he was forgetting something, or someone, since he left the Stark's Box. While looking at the young Starks and the young Boltons the image of a blonded beautiful girl came to his mind and he remembered. Evelyn, the girl he met the day before, was probably alone at the Red Keep! It was the perfect timing for him to leave and have a nice conversation with the girl again without being disturbed or interrupted by some random person. Yes, he was right, this was the perfect moment to sneak away from his father and family. He stopped walking and bowed down to the Great Houses' children "My lords, my ladies, I forgot I had something to do. If you will excuse me, I will take my leave" he finished and started walking away towards the big building, made of long and tall towers and an infinite number of corridors and rooms.

After he finally managed to get out of the children's view, he ran towards Red Keep, a big smile growing on his face. He finally reached the gates and only then did he know that it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be to enter. The guards glared at him, their spears looking menacing and deadly. Daniel introduced himself as one of the members of House Ashwood but they didn't believe him at first. Fortunately for the youngest son of William, another guard got there, the one who took the Ashwood to Miranda's tavern and remembered Daniel's face. He smiled and thanked the middle aged man showing his gratitude.

Next step was to find the actually girl. Another hard task, but he knew exactly what to do. He found a girl, better yet, a black haired woman in a beautiful blue dress. Jane, one of Miranda's girls, stood there looking at the young boy. He asked where he could find a girl named Evelyn and Jane gave him a little smile and gave him the general directions. Daniel smiled and with another "Thank you" he left running through the halls, turning left and right multiple times until he finally found the room he was looking for. Of course, he wasn't sure that the door in front of him led to Evelyn's chambers but there was no harm in trying.

His right hand gently knocked the door two times and said "Is anyone here?" he asked. "And if so am I disturbing anything?" another question in case he had gotten to the wrong room.

ailurophile

Imitating the actions of the goshawk, Aenar dissected the man with his eyes, the look of suspicion that had been ever present upon his face since their initial interaction within the melee pit only growing more pronounced as the man continued to to say his piece. Viserys’ demeanor seemed to have shifted greatly now that they found themselves in a more private environment and his initial overzealous confidence appeared to have taken a backseat to something that could have been considered humility, or even sorrow for his prior abruptness. Were Aenar a more trusting man perhaps he would have found something resembling sincerity within Viserys’ words however years of dealing with deceitful lords and false magisters had taught him to be very cautious in regards to who he put his faith into.

Resigning himself to silence as the Blackfyre pretender made small talk about wine, the Lord Hand contemplated how to approach the issue at hand. Whilst it was true that a Blackfyre within King’s Landing posed a very real threat both physically and mentally to the royal family and their authority within the city, it was also true that Aenar could not afford to make an enemy of Volantis nor their principle Triarch. Conflict in the Stepstones had been growing heated as of late and whilst the Lyseni and Tyroshi leaders continued to deny their involvement in the numerous pirate raids that plagued the land Aenar had his doubts. An enemy in Volantis would only serve to add additional strain to Westeros’ relationship with her eastern sister and were he to mount Viserys’ head upon a pike, he suspected he would find another set ‘independently funded’ pirates and brigands attempting to claim the Kingdom of his grandfather.

“If you are certain in your suspicions then it would not be my place to question them, you have much more experience than I in terms of forgeries and fakes and I would assume you would not bring up your concerns without first considering the alternatives.” Aenar addressed Miranda first, giving himself some time to consider Viserys’ questions. In truth, it was not entirely out of the realm of possibility that Aegon had invited a delegate from a foreign city to attend his wedding, he was almost a man grown and and it was not out of the ordinary that a Prince would indulge in intrigue and subterfuge, though Aenar still did not want to believe that he would do such a thing. The youngest prince had always been a rather inoffensive presence at court: a soft and effeminate young boy who had learned to play the harp and enjoyed singing with his sisters at the sept. Of course the Hand had not turned a blind eye to the complaints of discourtesy that he had received from some of Aegon’s servants, however he had always chalked them down to young recklessness rather than actual maliciousness and he had never taken the boy for a schemer. “Perhaps you would do me the courtesy of confirming your suspicions with the Prince himself, I would not have him dragged away from his wedding to listen to our talks, however I am sure of all people you could get an answer out of him if you were to ask.”

Aenar turned his gaze back to the Blackfyre, furrowing his brow, “You do not need to fear detainment, we merely need to check the validity of your invitation. If it comes to light that the Prince did indeed invite you then I see no reason why you shouldn’t be permitted to attend the celebration, though I am sure you will understand that precautions will have to be put in place to maintain the safety of his grace and his children. If not…” He paused for a second in contemplation. “If not, then I’m afraid I would have to ask you to return to Volantis. However if you have business that you wish to discuss with the crown then I beg you talk to myself or one of my fellow councilmen. King Maegor has resigned from public life as of late and does not wish to be disturbed.”

diwa TheAncientCelt

It was a dreary day for a tournament, all things considered. Try as they might to raise roofs of canvas and wood to shield them from the elements, a damp chill continued to hang in the air, clinging tightly to her bones and bringing the woman to huddle deeper into the fur cloak. It be far more reasonable to simply reschedule the tournament until the poor weather subsided, but it seemed the royal family was adamant that things would proceed as planned, so there was little she could do but bear it. After all, she wasn’t old enough quite yet that she had to flee into the warmth of the castle halls to dry off like some frail hag.

In truth, it was likely for the best that Brynden was bedridden in Riverrun- the man likely would have been annoyed by all the frivolous festivities, and he was poor company when stuck in one of his ‘moods’. And while she had thought the warmer weather might help cheer his spirits a bit, the rain would have likely deepened his heavy coughing and bring an ache to his joints. It wasn’t so dire as to affect his mobility yet, but it would take its toll in due time, and there was little point in exacerbating his symptoms needlessly. Yes, a few weeks of undisturbed rest and some hot broth was all that was required to set her husband right, of that she was certain. And should his condition change, Maester Lymond had assured her he would send the swiftest raven to Kings Landing to let her know immediately. So until then, there was little use in her worrying about him, least of all when it was her children who needed her attention.

Shifting her glance away from the proceedings, the woman’s hazel eyes looked upon the lot of them: Marianne and Rosyn amicably chatting away in between their needlework, something regarding the tournaments with Alyssa nodding from time to time, her attention moreso on her brother’s discussion. Tytos and Lucas occasionally piped in on her daughter’s conversation whilst placing their own bets on the events, contemplating who might succeed in the melee: Lucas was to partake in the Archery, but this wasn’t until later in the day. Axel would be busy in the tents preparing for the melee right about now, and Kermit was off somewhere fulfilling some duty or another as Kingsguard. How quickly they’d grown up… and yet all these years later, it seemed she still had yet to fulfill her duties. Alyssa’s unwed status remained troubling, but it was Lucas’ lack of betrothal which truly concerned her. She had been patient with her eldest son all these years, expecting that he would eventually come to find someone whom he would desire to wed. After all, given the circumstances of her own arrangement, she didn’t think it just to push him into the throes of marriage too early on. Yet the man had passed his thirtieth name-day and still had neither a wife nor heir to carry on the family name. If theirs was a smaller noble house of less consequence, this might be of little concern, but for the future Lord Paramount of the Trident, it could not be left to stand as such.

It saddened Dhalla that it came to this, but it seemed that if her son was unwilling to properly court or seek out a bride, then she would take matters into her own hands. There were still plenty of ladies from the South whom she was well acquainted with, many having fair daughters who would be suitable candidates. And of course there was still some affiliation between themselves and House Lannister… yes, there would be plenty of opportunity during the festivities to scout the field out. If she was lucky, maybe her son would take a fancy to one of the ladies and figure it out on his own…. she wasn’t holding her breath for it though.

“-shall win the melee, that is without question.” Marianne concluded, a self-assured smile on her lips as she finished speaking whilst silently challenging her siblings to contest her claim of the Mountain Lion's victory. “I’m certain Axel wouldn’t appreciate you saying that.” Tytos quipped with a smirk of his own, amusement twinkling in his brown eyes. “Oh, just as I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing that you’ve also got your bets placed on the Ironborn fellow.” “He might not like it, but I spoke truthfully on the matter at least, unlike you who went off to give him such false hopes." the youngest Tully replied in turn, to which the middle daughter rolled her eyes. “Hmph, I merely sought to support my kin as he goes off into battle. If we were back home, I might wager that he’d fare quite well. But here, amongst the finest warriors in the Seven Kingdoms? He’ll be lucky if he gets out of it without losing a limb.”

“Axel is a fine swordsman, second only to Kermit in our family. He might not win the melee, but I suspect he’ll fare well regardless. And in one piece, preferably.” the heir to Riverrun finally interrupted his younger siblings’ debate, eyes pensive as he gauged their responses. “Mm, I don’t know- I think it would suit him if he got a scar or some other minor wound. Nothing gravely serious, but something to make him stand out a bit more. You have all these esteemed warriors with titles such as ‘The Mountain Lion’, ‘The Laughing Wolf’ and ‘The Warhorse’… and then we have ‘Axel Tully’. Just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” Marianne mused. “What would you have his official title be then?” Rosyn inquired, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and from there the incessant flow of words continued, with Lucas only half listening as the Tully children began offering a myriad of lewd suggestions. No, his thoughts remained on graver matters than wedding tournaments.

When their Lord father had requested that he head the Tully party in his stead, Lucas thought little of it. It was perhaps strange that the Lord Paramount did not himself attend, but it was well known that Brynden was not one for such events, and his illness only provided further incentive to remain at home. But it was in the privacy of his chambers that the full extent of his father’s request became known. Maegor was frail, his health rapidly failing him, and with death at his feet rumours had begun to stir regarding his successor. By all rights, it would be Aegor who ascended to the Throne upon his father’s passing, yet it was no secret that there were others who aspired to sit on that wretched chair. And so his father had entrusted him and his siblings to learn what they could of these shifting political alliances, so that should the time come they would know who to stand by. The thought of it all was enough to make his gut churn in worry.

“I’m going for a walk-about: stroll the tourney grounds and mayhaps try to find our dear brother before he heads out to get himself gutted. Anyone care to join me?” Alyssa spoke up abruptly amidst the continuing discussion regarding noble titles. “Yes.” the eldest son replied a bit too quickly, which a few of siblings noted with looks of bemusement. When no one else responded, the pair stood up and quickly navigated their way out of the booth, offering their mother a nod and smile before descending the stairs into the chaos down below. Hordes of noble and common-folk alike were bustling about, from the spectators vying for the best seat to merchants selling all manner of refreshment. Compared to the faint din heard above in the box, this was a vicious cacophony of noise, and yet Lucas found himself more at ease than he had listening politely to his family’s banter.

“So what’s this all about then?” He asked, turning to face his sister. “Well I thought you might appreciate getting out of there for a bit- you seem more hermit-like than usual. We weren’t sure if you were feeling sick from the journey or just brooding again… I suspect it’s the latter.” Alyssa answered nonchalantly, blue-grey orbs staring knowingly at him. Shrugging his shoulders impartially, there was a pause as they continued to meander about the grounds, peeking up now and again to see who was sitting in which noble house boxes. “I can understand why father chose to stay at home- I think he’s all the wiser for it. It’s traditional for royal weddings to be such grandiose affairs, of course, but this just seems excessive.” he stated wryly, a tint of disdain seeping into his tone. “You speak the truth in this regard, brother, but such is the way of the world. After all, if not for weddings and funerals such as these, when else would we all get to come together in one place to gossip and gawk, speculate and plot what events are to come?”

“It’s all rather troublesome, to say the least.” “And yet here we are, come to act out our parts in the mummer’s play. Whether we like it or not, our family will have a role in the grand narrative unfolding. And during our time here, it is our duty to decide what that role shall be.” the orange-haired woman explained, and unsure of how to respond, the pair lapsed into silence as he contemplated those words. He felt his sister’s reasoning had some merit to it, and yet couldn’t quite agree with her in this matter. While they were in fact part of one of the great noble families, he did not see this as meaning they had to take part in whatever nonsense was to come next. After all, when Rhaegar called upon Westeros’ noble houses to conquer Essos, their father had chosen not to act, and this course of action had served them well. And the last time war came to the Seven Kingdoms, it left the Riverlands a massive graveyard. While they had rebuilt since then, Lucas knew that should push come to shove once more, it would likely be their homeland which suffered the greatest. So with all that said, he saw no benefit in getting themselves involved in a conflict which they need not take part in. Let the Dragons and Lions and so forth grapple for control of the realm, so long as they left the Trout to swim peacefully in their streams.

Sighing, Lucas finally broke the silence between the pair as they approached the royal box. “Until then though… I think I spy Kermit up there.” He stated, changing the subject as he nodded his head in the knight’s direction. Turning her head and squinting upwards, his sister paused for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Yes, that’ll be him. You think he sees us?” “Not sure.” the red-haired man replied, peering up once more before lifting his hand to offer a quick wave to the box. If their brother takes notice of them, he does not make it known however. “I wonder if we’re embarrassing him: he’s supposed to be keeping guard of the royal family after all.” Alyssa offers, but there’s a hint of a grin on her face as she says this. “Well, he is in the Kingsguard- it comes with the territory I suppose. We’ll find him again in a bit, maybe once things have eased up. Shall we proceed on our mud-soaked stroll?” He says, tightening the clasp of his cloak that it might keep him shielded from the elements. His sister nodded in agreement, and upon offering a final look towards the silver-armoured man the pair continue on their way.

@Lancelot
Anyone else hanging around the Tourney Grounds

Obi-Wan Kenobi
Azalea JPTheWarrior

Daimen smiled at Eddard's words, but he soon realized the man was probably being sarcastic and making fun of him. His theory was proven to be right when the heir to the House Bolton joined them, followed by Talia's not so innocent whisper, making fun of Cregan's son. Daimen, nevertheless, still managed to look happy even if the kid was literally mocking the black swallow. "Your words are really kind my lord. Although I still doubt a high born lady would look at me that way, your words do make me delighted" he said and bowed down to Eddard Stark. A little curve nothing more nothing less, just trying to show respect to the much younger man.

Dylon's comment was true, although Daimen didn't like to admit it. But even the "less fortunate" had a good life like the Ashwood. They didn't have lots of money like the Lannisters, they weren't the healthiest nor the strongest in numbers and powers, but their family bond was something most wish to have. His father and mother loved their children and the children love them equally. Even Isabella, the addopted daughter who once selled her body to make living, felt at home with the Ashwood, as they treated her like a real daughter and sister.

Daimen smiled at Talia and whispered back "I think he is just trying to be nice" a simple lie of course, but nothing that was too hard to say without cracking up. Daimen added "But we have to agree with him my lady. The low nobles don't have the right to marry the high ones" he explained although he was sure the woman knew that.

Azalea Asua

JPTheWarrior said:

Walder and Elia Tyrell
Tyrell's Box, King’s Landing
​

Walder and Elia greeted the Redwynes as soon as they came. Walder remembered Austen Redwyne was in fact a good friend of his brother, Axell. Walder looked at his brother and sighed "I will think about it. I hope our army is not rusty from this peaceful times" he said and Elia smiled "Now now brother, have faith in our House's men." she chuckled and Walder smiled "Yeah you are right, I shouldn't be so doubtful." he said a little chuckle after. Elia looked at the Redwynes and decided to have a conversation with them. "Are you enjoying your stay in King's Landing my lord and my lady?" she asked with a little smile. Walder looked at Ave and their eyes met for brief seconds before the young Tyrell sat on his seat with his sister by his side. Walder sighed and waited for the melee to start. Ave and Austen were right about the event. It was taking too long to start.

Elia holded Walder's hand "Be patient my brother. It will br worth the wait" she said and his brother squeezed a bit her hand before letting it go "Yeah yeah..." he sighed as he started watching the common folk. They were hungry for blood, that is why most of them came. Some were already screaming for the duels to start, others were laughing about their own bad jokes, others were with money on their hands ready to gamble. He then took a slight look at his sister who looked beautiful in that dress. She really had been blessed by the Gods. He cursed the day she would have to leave and marry someone in order to create alliances or to enrich his House. The siblings shared the same fate.

TheFordee20 Yarrow

Click to expand...

Axell TyrellThe heir of house Tyrell looked at his younger siblings. Soon he would make plans for their marriages, they probably wouldn't like it but especially in these times it was important to know you who your allies are.. well, it maybe is smarter to know your enemies.
Axell knew his father had a difficult task, many of his banner men were allying themselves with certain people which could lead to troubles in the Reach.

Having many people in your region certainly has it's benefits, for sure, but also some disadvantages. Most lords have their own opinions about what they should do and who they should side with. Axell hoped his father had a good plan, Axell could try talking to the lords, but the official power is in his fathers hands. Looking around, he noticed some servants doing nothing "He! Fetch me some parchment and a quill, I need to write some letters"
The servant hurried away and after some time Axell was writing again. Of course he could help his father a little bit, like he was doing all the time. A dinner needed to be organized so he could see where the thoughts of his bannermen were "Servant, bring this to every of our bannermen who joined us to King's Landing"
Then he stood up, walked to the entrance of the box, waiting for the others to join in the Box of the Tyrells, He was hoping that he would see the Tarly 's, if his father hasn't been so lazy that he didn't invite them, however, the Tarly's were always welcome, even without an invite, but just to be sure "Boy, come over here, tell the Tarly's that I am waiting for them and tell them that there is plenty of the finest food here, say that Matthos Tyrell forgot to invite, but certainly add to that, that Axell will never forget them"

Hypnos
TheFordee20
diwa

JPTheWarrior

Eddard StarkEven if Eddard’s tone contained little other than jest, there was an iron truth to it that he could tell Daimen quickly picked up on, if the dulling of his smile was anything to go off. Nonetheless, the boy maintained that same stiff respectfulness. It was a touch admirable, although the Ashwood’s little airs were becoming quite tiresome for Eddard to entertain. He pushed his lips up into a more affable smile as the Bolton heir joined their little party, speaking in Damien’s defense, although the smirk on his lips suggested at the opposite. His thoughts briefly flitted over to where Dylon’s twin might be, considering the two were rarely separated from one another.

“Those less fortunate then ourselves should think better of intruding, regardless of who they receive an invitation from.”

In speaking such a statement, Eddard was aware he was taking a bit of a risk, considering he wasn’t sure who the Ashwood’s had been invited by. In the off chance that his father had been the one to extend the invitation, or Lord Bolton for that matter he was sure trouble would lurk on the horizon. But given how Talia, of all people, was enjoying a low-house’s company, he was sure it was her doing.

Annoyance had twisted Talia Bolton’s features at his words, Eddard meeting her cold gaze with a smile he hoped she’d find equally disconcerting.

“I suppose, ‘dear’ cousin, I should leave you too be the authority on matters such as marriage. You’ll likely be married off in a couple of months will you not? A shame that your little Ashwood lover – that is friend, can’t be joined with you in such a union.”

It wasn't his best retort nonetheless, but Eddard thought only to wipe the that coldness from her expression. Her going off with the Ashwood further pushed his claims across, Eddard exaggeratedly casting his grey gaze from then to back at the spot they'd once been, shrugging his shoulders comically at Dylon. Although he wasn't sure of the Bolton heirs thoughts on the matter - would he take offense to a bit of joke at his sisters expense? - he still thought to attempt at conversation.

"Any idea why Talia's finding solace in a low-houses company? Is it loneliness or is she just not getting any," he half joked though a touch of curiosity pervaded his tone.

Daimen was a bit shaken by Eddard's comment. One thing that his parents taught their children was manners and how to be educated. He felt a bit offended but he couldn't show it. The Ashwood had a good relationship with House Stark and Daimen couldn't ruin it by punching one of the kids in the face, even if he deserved it. "As I told you earlier, my lord, lady Talia invited me and my brother and sisters to watch the tournament with her and her family." he said once again "We are only here now because your father, Lord Cregan Stark, told us all to go for a walk, together" he said, emphasize that last word so Eddard could understand once and for all that the Ashwood were here due to an invitation.

He wanted to say more, take that smirk out of the young man's face, but suddently Talia let go of his arm and switched to his hand, grabbing it and pushing him away from the group of northern children. He didn't even have time to say goodbye to Eddard, Dylon nor his sisters, who were now alone since Daniel also left. Talking about Daniel, Daimen had already guessed where his young brother went but he decided to not talk to him about it. The guy was old enough to decide his actions.

Daimen was taken through the crowd and they only stopped moving until they reached a dark alley. If he looked to the right, he could still see people walking around, to see the melee, drink or buy items from the multiple shops that King's Landing had to offer. Daimen looked now at Talia and said "M-My lady... what was that for?" he asked a bit tired from running around, stepping on other people's feet.

Azalea Asua

He silently watched the melee, his eyes locked on Lewyn Martell, probably the one he would bet on. He was pretty good, maybe even better at riding a horse than Walder himself. He was a bit envious of the guy, but there is always someone better than you in the world, and Lewyn was that person to the youngest son of House Tyrell. Walder looked behind him, seeing his brother Axell writing a letter. By what he said, he was invinting all the houses loyal to the Tyrells for a dinner. The man sighed, mentally preparing himself for another long session of smiles and courtesy while he was eating.

What he wasn't expecting was having Ave Redwyne by his side. The charming lady left her brother and walked to Walder and Elia, a sweet smile never leaving her face. She sat besides Walder and he looked at her, giving a smile to the young girl. His sister did the same, but her smile was different. The difference was impossible to notice though. Only Walder, who has always been with Elia knew that her smile was fake. Walder thought he should warn Elia to be nice and calm down, but that wasn't the moment. Walder said "We are both delighted my lady. For being invited to celebrate the wedding and for watching this wonderful tournament" Elia nodded, half agreeing with his brother, while the other half was trying to understand what Ave could possibly want.

Walder looked back to the stadium and nodded "Yes my lady. The melee is fascinating to watch, but it is not for me" he turned his attention back to the woman, his eyes locking on hers. "I believe that, while you can earn glory and respect if you win, you can also get badly hurt. Plus, revealing your fighting style to everyone isn't a good idea. I prefer duels, one soldier against other, on a private match where only a few get to see. That way you can always have the element of surprise" he finished.

TheFordee20

The assassin was getting bored. He stood by Odella's side all of this time, without opening his mouth even once, but he had no interest in watching metal hit metal and blood getting spilled meaninglessly. He approached Odella and whispered, his lips slightly rubbing her right ear "Can we go now Odella?" he asked, not afraid of calling her by her first name. It was true he was disguised as her servant, but their contract never mentioned him needing to call her by 'my lady'. From his point of view, everyone was equal and titles didn't matter. He looked up seeing her brother, his target and the reason he allied with his sister. He could have killed the pervert man a long time ago, but Odella insisted it wasn't the right time.

He whispered again "Lets go to your chambers. We can have a little fun there" he said, his voice always low so not even the guard in front of them could hear it. He backed away from the lady and waited for her reaction. Since he was tasked to stay by her side, his only way to have fun was to tease and flirt with lady Arryn. Annoying others has been one of his favourite hobbies even when he was a kid.

Azalea

ODELLA ARRYN
Odella was annoyed. The emotion was an indiscernible one, as Odella thought better of letting such sentiments, despite their magnitude, reflect on her features. She’d been told she was far too pretty for that. Giving the guard another too-bright smile, that hinted at future beheadings and the promise of blood spilled on her behalf, Odella might’ve hurt some feelings had it not been for Samuel’s words. The assassin – er, servant had been quiet for so long Odella had nearly forgotten just how entertaining conversation with him could be. The man was likely bored, and his actions reflected this.

She jumped slightly as his lips brushed her ear, forcing annoyance to creep to her features despite the amusement his words rendered.

“M’lady,” she corrected, although he was unlikely to listen to such a rectification. “and as you know, my brother needs over-looking,” Following his eyes to brush her own over where her brother, the incorrigible flirt, sat with a Baratheon on each hip, “no one likes the consequences if he isn’t.”

His next words, Odella coughed lightly to cover up the undercurrent of amusement once more.

“You always know how to make a girl blush, Samuel. But your forgetting that I don’t mix business and pleasure. Though I’m sure the pleasure would be all yours.”

She couldn’t help but respond with her own goading flirtations, Samuel was good for that, despite his status as an assassin.

Azalea
JPTheWarrior

Samurel smiled at the young woman and shrugged his shoulders "Your brother has already tainted himself and your family name. He is helpless and imcompetent" he said, not a hint of fear for showing his opinion. "You arrived later at King's Landing. I am sure he already found someone to satiate his hunger for woman." he said and whispered once again, but this time on the left ear "Why don't I just finish my job and we get over it? It would be way faster and less trouble for you" he said.

"Oh..." he remembered and his lips curved, a smirk forming on his face "Then you wouldn't need to 'mix business and pleasure'" he said and backed away before saying "Oh yes you are right Odella. It would be mostly mine, but I guarantee you you would also enjoy it. Or are you afraid that you will like it so much you will become just like your dear and sweet brother?" he asked, now really trying to tease her. He sighed and grinned "Honestly, you are confusing" he said and looked at the Baratheon Box "If they don't let us enter on the next five minutes we leave alright?" it was a question, but obviously it was a rhetoric one.

Azalea

When Talia leaned herself over him he couldn't help but blush. The young man wasn't used to body contact or to be close to other person that wasn't his family. His cheeks were now really red, a mist of emotions lurking around him. Nervousness, embarrassement, confusion, fear and even anger. He now understood what Eddard Stark meant. Did Talia only really invite him and his family to have this moment with the heir to House Ashwood? If she was a commoner he would have struck her, as a reward for making him a complete fool.

Of course, if he did that he would have lost his hand and even killed. That way, he only showed his first two feelings. He barely even listen to Talia's answer after she pretended she was going to kiss him. The man had never kissed a girl before, much to everyone's surprise. Actually, the same would go for every single children of William Ashwood, who didn't have a lot of contact with others. He stared at her pretty blue eyes, probably think he found most charming on her. The girl finally backed away and he gave a big sigh of relief.

He looked back at her and tried to speak "M-my lady, I don't think your father would enjoy seeing us like this. Hum, as I said earlier, a low noble has no place with a high noble" he said with a smile, however, this one was a more timid, shy and even a 'help me please Old Gods' smile. He backed away a bit from the girl, though his was against a wall. He didn't let go of her hand though, afraid to offend the young woman.

Asua