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Fandom A Song of Ice and Fire RP (Game of Thrones)


Tiber Lannister


The Stands by the Melee Pit, Outside Casterly Rock, Westerlands.



​



Tiber Lannister sat comfortably in the main stands next to Leanne, as well as the rest of the Lannister family. Some may forget that just how large the blood of the gold lions stretch, but they would all be reminded this day. After all, Lann did fill all of the Rock with his descendants as well Lannisport, if the legends were true. Still, just the highborns alone, including the marriage family members, could constitute a medium garrison at some important military outpost. He petted the head of one of his distant nieces, who napped quietly between him and Leanne, despite the noise from the match. She had crawled up as Tiber offered her parents to look after her while they tended to their other children, and they gratefully took the offer. Originally the child had converse animatedly with Leanne, before tiring herself out and falling asleep against Tiber, while still on Leanne's lap. In fact the entire center section of the stands was preoccupied with Lannisters, with the adjourning sections occupied with in-laws and such.


A servant had just dropped off a plate of some food when Edwyn and Relina arrived next to him. The Lord of Lannisport gave a nod to him, while Relina beamed a smile at the couple. The blonde quickly walked to the other side and sat next to Leanne, before the two conversed about how cute the little girl in her lap was as well as plans for children after the wedding was over. Tiber looked over to his uncle and spoke up. "Enjoying the festivities Uncle? I hope that even you can take a break from the duties of Lannisport, if only for the day." Edwyn took a cup from a nearby servant and downed it in one go, before scowling.


"If I took a break, the entire port would likely fall into the Sunset Sea. I appreciate you being able to take control of the kingdom Tiber, at least the Westerlands won't go to pieces once I'm gone. Maybe just Lannisport."


Tiber gave a laugh before slapping his uncle's shoulder. "I think we both have more confidence in Wilhelm than you say uncle. I'm sure he'll be a fine Lord many years from now." He helped himself to some beef, slicing a few pieces before popping one into his mouth. "Speak of the bugger. Here he comes." They watched as Wilhelm walked up to them and sent his greetings.


"Not a problem at all cousin. Should you be here now though? I wouldn't blame you for tending to Miranda. Is she back at the Rock? Or Lannisport?"


Edwyn gave a nod to his son. "If she's still sick, you should tend to her. With the way things are going, you might not have the luxury of seeing her so often in the future."


@Red


@Lancelot


@Leusis


@AnnoDomini


@Fezzes


@LittleWolfie


@Robyn Banks (For your reading pleasure)
 

Ser Willhelm Lannister


Commander of the Lannister Fleet



​



"Then you clearly underestimate my wife, father, even if it was you who said I should marry her." Wilhelm replied as he raised his head once again. "She's headstrong and insisted on coming with me, seeing the gravity of recent events. Just as you said, she thought to take any chance to be with me as much as she can. Her sickness subsided during the trip here and she's just tending to your grandson. This place is too crowded for a toddler." he calmly explained. "You need not worry so much, father." he tried to reassure him.


"Though Lord Orwell and Lady Mira preferred to stay and watch over Payne Hall, they send their regards as well. Their son Maxwell is somewhere around here." he continued.


Wilhelm always felt that his father had little faith in him despite his best efforts. This might have triggered his jealousy towards his brother Albert. Maybe deep down, Wilhelm believed that their father would've preferred if Albert was the heir instead of him. This was one of the things that drove him to try so hard in everything that he does. He wanted, more than anyone else's, his father's approval.


He stood up straight, with his hands behind his back and looked at his cousin and his wife. Wilhelm flashed a rare smile, something that would surprise many that knew of Wilhelm's usual disposition. "Congratulations on the marriage cousin." he said before he took a seat beside his father.
 
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Casterly Rock


POV: Daeron Nymeros Martell


As Cayden brought up the topic of women, Daerons cheeks quickly turned a shade of vermilion, in terms of romantic affairs Daeron was the polar opposite of his older brother, he had hardly talked to any women directly other than those in his family and close friends. It is said a prince of Dorne would never go without a mate but Daeron was yet to lay with a girl, he had thought about it from time to time as all men would but never found himself in the situation. He found his mind racing to think of a witty response but his brother walked away before he could, hiding his embarrassment as much as he could he began to follow Caden out of the room and towards the tournament ground.


Daeron rubbed his neck as people seemed to be glancing at them as they walked through They aren't looking at me right his eyes seemed to be glued towards the floor as he followed the back of Caydens boots so he knew where he was going, the whispers and stares were almost too much for him but being with family always boosted him up somewhat. Eventually he found himself at what seemed to be the jousting grounds, this isn't too bad Daeron sighed, for now it was relatively calm but with time it would likely be just as buys as the arena if not busier, these folks have a queer taste in entertainment. He understood the horseriding part but the smashing lances into each other didn't appeal to him at all, he heard Cayden something about armour and competing in the joust, he can't be serious can he? is what Daeron wished to say, his brother had just recovered from his fit earlier, but he knew his words would sway Cayden little, he had always done as he wished.


Daeron followed Cayden closely almost like he was his personal shadow, making sure to avoid eye contact with the knights and warriors alike surrounding them, he heard his brother speak from time to time but he couldn't process the words in his head until he was jarred when Cayden shouted something at no one in particular. What the fucks a shadowfire? Daeron thought to himself, awkwardly getting defensive after feeling that his brother had just shouted at him in a unknown source of rage, but soon after he seemed to pay someone to collect this shadowfire, he has a secret code? Offer him an apple? what kind of relationship does he have with this man?! Daeron was thinking to himself unaware that it was a horse.


Cayden seemed to be glancing off in the distance, Daeron was surprised when he suddenly said he was going to converse with a group up on the stands "feel free to come along he said" Daeron did not waste any time to follow his brother, not because he wished to talk to these people but because he had no plan what to do if he was to be left alone, it was really his only option even though it is not much better than the other, he had never been a good speaker, especially in introductions. It felt as if the sun was solely targeting Daeron this day as his cheeks were in a constant flush. He climbed the steps slowly as his brother seemed to rush up them to greet the women typical he thought to himself. As one of the girls replied to his brother he could here another of them snickering, shes laughing at Cayden right? he hoped to himself once more, despite being brothers Daeron and Caydens appearance was quite different, while Caydens hair was short, Daerons was long, where Caydens eyes were a light blue, Daerons eyes were a warm dark brown. But one thing they did share was the same Dornish attractiveness that some throughout Westros had attributed to their people, but Daeron always viewed it as a like of things exotic.


Daeron shifted his eyes to look at Cayden, his white smile gleaming at them seeming pleased with himself what is this? Cayden then proceeded to introduce both himself and Daeron, why are you doing this?! Daeron did not respond with words but rather an awkward looking thumbs up of approval, almost saying "yes very nice." He scanned over the three of them with his eyes quickly, making sure not to make eye contact or be caught looking at their naughty parts. Daeron began to speak nervously to the three girls.


"S-so, how have you been enjoying the festivities so far." Daerons Dornish accent was a very thick one, mayhaps one of the thickest.





@Akio @Hypnos


 

Tiber Lannister


The Stands by the Melee Pit, Outside Casterly Rock, Westerlands.



​



Tiber Lannister looked over at his Uncle and the two shared a look. Evidently the heir of Lannisport didn't understand the meaning, else he would be err in judgment thinking that his wife and the mother of his children would join him as they march to war soon. Nevertheless, the two lords turned back to the young man, and the Lord of Lannisport spoke. "Indeed this place is too crowded for a toddler, and Miranda would do well to be in a quieter place with my grandson. If you were Albert, I would suspect you being smart with me Wilhelm. I was not referring to the festival, but the talk of that nature may wait. However, perhaps I did not overestimate your wife, but rather underestimate your abilities to take command as the future head of this House. If the woman that shares your bed won't listen to you, how do you expect the rest of Lannisport to?" He took an apple and bit into it, while Tiber looked over his cousin with more sympathetic eyes.


"Well it is good to hear at least one member of House Payne was able to come and enjoy themselves for these few days. I do hope to see Maxwell's skill in the tilt that's coming up, should he opt to enter." The Lord of Casterly Rock gave him a warm smile in return. "My thanks on that cousin. You should bring Miranda and Patrik up to the feast tonight. I'm sure they'll fit right in with the rest of the family." He gestured with a wave of his hand, towards the rest of the Lannisters' children and women tending to them, not to mention the extended family. Taking another bite of the beef, Tiber offered the plate over to his cousin from Lannisport. "Some food? I'm sure it's been a bit since lunch time Wilhelm." To his right, Relina gave a quick smile to her brother, before going back to the conversation with Leanne, the two women subconsciously stroking the sleeping girl's golden hair on Leanne's lap.


@Red


@Lancelot


@Leusis


@AnnoDomini


@Fezzes


@LittleWolfie


@Robyn Banks (For your reading pleasure)
 
Ser Wilhelm Lannister

​



He could sense the disappointment from his father, but when has he never been one in his eyes? With his steep expectations and lofty standards, the men who could live up to them could be counted using a person's hands.


"Food would be nice." he replied sternly.


Wilhelm just hastily grabbed the goblet of what was presumably water as soon as the servant placed it in front of Wilhelm. His face slowly changing back into the brooding expression that was always plastered on his face. While his sister tried to mentally remind him to try and cheer up, it would fail and have no effect on his current mood.


Wilhelm brought some good news, though now he chose to only divulge it whenever his father or cousin asked. He had finished what he was tasked with before his father left for the Rock. The Lannister fleet was ready to sail for the Reach whenever and if ever his cousin commanded. He did all this with time to spare, seeing as he had the time to be attending the wedding at all.


First, meeting his brother, and now, this. Wilhelm hoped that his day could only get any better as he took another sip from the goblet.


"Hopefully you're right, cousin." he replied to his remark about bringing Miranda and his son to the feast and how they'd fit in.


"It's already hard to fit in our own household." Wilhelm thought to himself as he took yet another sip.


@WanderingJester
 
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Tiber Lannister

​



The Stands by the Melee Pit, Outside Casterly Rock, Westerlands.

​





​



Tiber Lannister looked to his cousin and shook his head. Wilhelm was too young to be so broody all the time. For a moment the Lion of Lannister wondered if his cousin even relaxed around Miranda and his son. Still the boy had a lot of stress on his mind. He had to learned how to loosen up from time to time, else he was likely to age more than his years quite rapidly in the near future, given the war on the horizon. If anyone should be burdened by their baggage, it would be him. Still, his uncle continued to chew on the apple in his hand, while his cousin took his seat. The Lord of Casterly Rock turned back to the melee pit in front of them. "I'm sure they will Wilhelm. Just give them a chance to mingle with the other mothers and children, and before you know it Lannisport will be full of them like the rest of our houses. We certainly hope so for the rock." He gave a smile over to Leanne, who turned with a smile of her own back.


"Now all we need is a proper wedding for Leon, and all the main houses of the Lions should be filled." Tiber looked over to the banners marking off the center stands where they sat. Beside the gold lion of the Rock and the seaborne Lion of Lannisport, a third gold lion stood victorious with a claw over a slain red one, over the checkered background of silver and stone grey. House Lannister of Castamere was among those in the stands, along with Lannett and the others. Most members all came to the festivities, and not a single lion anywhere in the Westerlands did not have one of their own to represent themselves at the wedding. Tiber smiled as he watches the other colors fly in the wind. There were only gold lions left in the Westerlands, the other houses would do well to remember why.


@Red


@Lancelot


@Leusis


@AnnoDomini


@Fezzes


@LittleWolfie


@Robyn Banks (For your reading pleasure)
 

Agnes Tully

Tourney Grounds, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.​



Agnes only half listened as the Prince of Dorne made his introduction, her eyes focusing instead upon the jousting taking place in the pit below as her cousin landed his first hit against his oaken opponent, smashing his lance with little accuracy across the mannequin's chest. Standing beside him, mounted atop his own mighty destrier, Ser Titus could be heard offering loud encouragement to the boy and egging him on, though it was apparent that his attention was elsewhere, and Agnes could feel his single brown eye baring into her and her sisters, keeping a watchful gaze upon the Dornishmen to their side, almost daring them to try something.


Cayden Martell was pleasant enough, not that she paid him much mind, and his brother seemed a delicate thing, practically quivering where he stood, though Agnes had more important things to worry about than impressing the two princes, even if they were related to one of the most powerful women in the continent and she merely gave them a false smile, letting her sisters deal with the socialising.


"A Prince? How interesting" she heard Melissa mumble, though she too seemed to have her attention pulled elsewhere and her gaze was cast upon the pit below, looking at one of the riders with an expression resembling adoration.


"There is no need to apologise Prince Cayden, I am flattered that you would pay us heed at all, being Princes of Dorne. I am Gwenys Tully, granddaughter of Walder Tully, Lord of Riverrun and these are my sisters. The younger is Melissa" Melissa murmured something in ascent, offering the prince and curtsy "and the one who looks as if she's just picked a fly out of her food is Agnes, the eldest. I must confess I saw your performance in the melee yesterday and I was quite impressed with your prowess" Agnes snorted, her sister had barely watched the melee and spent almost the entire time talking and giggling with their sister. "The festivities have been wondrous Prince Daeron, thank you for asking." Even Gwenys as self focused as she often was seemed to notice the discomfort in Daeron's tone and she spoke to him softly, shifting from her normal tone.


@Akio @Lancelot
 
Cayden couldn't help but give his brother a glance, who had all but seemed to shut down and stare at the floor when speaking. He found himself slightly gobsmacked for a moment to find his usually calm brother rendered into doing an impression of a particularly red statue. "By the gods he's worse then I imagined." He had hoped that even spending most of his time on the water gardens if had led him to be ignorant about sex that it wouldnt have made him socially inept around the opposite gender. Luckily Gwenys introduction caused the situation to recover and the softness in her voice gave him just the way to work with this.


"Your too kind Lady Gwenys." He said pleasantly, while he had given them permission to drop his own title until they gave permission he himself wouldn't do so now knowing they belonged to the Paramounts of the Trident. "There were many fine knights on the field, I myself fought in the disputed lands for the last couple years doing some traveling so I'm used to such contests." He said putting his hand on the shoulder of his brother and he subtly moved him closer so they stood side by side with himself closer to the oldest sibling Agnes and himself between Gwenys and Melissa with a parting between them as not to block the youngest princesses view. "My brother himself has only just left Dorne for the first time to come to this wedding and as such is still a little uncomfortable with the surroundings." He said directing part of the conversation towards Gwenys, hoping to pass off the boy's nervousness due to only recently leaving home and hopefully encourage conversation between Gwenys and himself by giving her a chance to open the conversation with the shy youth and allow him to talk about what he knew best, home. He knew in a way he was throwing his brother to the dogs, or in this case the trout, in some sense Gwenys seemed to be a kind one who could hopefully treat him gently enough not to scare him off if he passed over that particular conversation to Daeron.


He turned his attention to the other two sisters, who both seemed to be watching the tryouts though not the same person. The youngest had the look of adoration only a maiden in love from afar could have and he followed her gaze to a handsome man dressed in Targaryen heraldry but with looks more reminiscent of a Lannister. Not only that he seemed to pass his trial with ease, riding with the confident practice of a experinced Knight. "Seems your not enjoying the trials Lady Agnes," He said, directing his voice to the Elder Tully with some curiosity as he moved to finish his question. "I doubt it's because of slim pickings, some of them ride well like the Knight in Targaryen colors at the end. Or is something else troubling your mind?" He said wondering if the Tully looked so grim because of some outside matter.


@Hypnos


@Lancelot
 
Roland Wilds - Casterly Rock - Melee Pit

​



Roland watched intently as Trevir began moving forward with haste, the young man obviously filled with some kind of vigor that spurred him forward. His footwork was sublime, for a younger man his technique was incredible, perhaps even better than his was at such an age. Bringing himself from these thoughts Roland angled his sword farther up, swiping to the right to guide Trevir's blade away in one fluid motion. Taking one deep step into the boys guard Roland would lower himself and thrust his shoulder forward and into the shield that guarded Trevir's chest. Some blue and white from the Arryn sigil rubbing off on his pauldron he watched as the much smaller man stumbled backwards from the force of his charge. 'Too agressive' Roland thought as he brought his sword back in front of him, the tip now angled upwards, pointing towards the visor of Trevir's helm.


Trevir thought himself clever Roland was sure, he'd try to close in one him, get rid of Roland's reach advantage and try to press the attack. Sadly however the Arryn boy did not account for their difference in skill and size, two things that easily made Roland just as dangerous if within arms reach. But that was not how Roland wished for this fight to play out, he wanted to give the people here a show and thats exactly what he would give them, a display of pure swordsmanship. Taking a few quick steps forward Roland would be upon Trevir in a matter of moments, slashing quickly to his left and right, high and low. His precision was incredible, each blow being aimed for vital areas and weak points in the platemail Trevir was wearing. Sadly however Trevir was quick, and with the added defense of his shield he was able to defend himself perfectly.


That was however until Trevir over extended with his leading foot, leaving his leg exposed, a mis-step Roland would not let go unanswered. Jabbing at the boys knee Roland's blade slid off of the platemail as Trevir turned his foot. In the same instance Roland leaned his body to one side, rolling his shoulder to guide Trevir's arming sword off of his pauldron in a glancing strike. He had over extended himself and put himself within the young mans reach, a mistake he would attempt not to make again. Backing away rather quickly Roland woud be sure to keep the tip of his blade between him and his opponent to assure distance was kept if he charged. "So you've got skill, I guess we'll just have to see how much" Roland spoke, a low chuckle escaping his lips, enjoying the moment as he tested himself against one of the best of the new generation of knights.


@Fezzes


@WanderingJester


@Red


(don't really know if I should tag anybody else >_>)
 

Agnes Tully

Tourney Grounds, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.​



"The disputed lands?" Agnes' sister raised an eyebrow, at Cayden's revelation, keeping a calm composure. Their grandfather had fought men from the disputed lands during his campaign in the war of the nine penny king's many years ago, though he received naught for his trouble but a crippled leg and a new found hatred for the honourless mercenaries that were commonplace in Essos, something he was known to grumble about in times of distress. It was odd to see someone so nonchalant about such a life style, especially since he brought it up so casually. "I have heard that it is filled with brutes and savages, I am glad you seem unharmed by such experiences."


The Tully, eyed Daeron, empathetically, and Agnes could sympathise with the experience of being removed from ones home and placed in an unknown land, giving him a small yet genuine smile.


Gazing upon the face of the Dornishman for the first time, Agnes recoiled slightly as she heard the call of her own name, looking up to meet the eyes of Prince Cayden Martell, his vibrant irises almost as blue as her own. His question took her aback a tad, a tiny and almost unnoticeable frown gracing her lips as he seemingly looked through her charade of pleasantries and commented upon the anguish that she felt inside, lacing his words with the niceties that were expected of a man of his station.


"I am fine Prince Cayden" she lied, an air of hesitation in her voice. "I am merely tired from a lack of rest, I'm afraid the beds of Casterly Rock do not agree with me." She flashed him a half smile, trying harder to conceal the worry in her eyes. She did not like lying to the man especially since they had just met, but what was she to say? That her grandfather lay dying as they spoke and that her family was collapsing in on itself as a result? That she held herself accountable for the undeniable failure that was her marriage? Or mayhaps that she feared the consequences of her actions in fleeing like a coward from the confines of Horn Hill? No, she daren't burden even her family with such details, let alone a stranger from a foreign land.


"I fear I am no expert on horsemanship." She looked below to see Otho struggling with his own mount, having now made it past the quintain and onto the rings, though not without a great deal of effort. "So I shall have to take your word upon the dragon knight's level of skill. Do you ride yourself Prince Cayden?" She tried to change the subject to a less personal one, silently cursing the innate curiosity of the Dornish stranger and her own sister for continuing the conversation beyond a simple greeting. "I'm sure as a knight from the disputed lands you have many tales to tell."
 
Cayden glanced at Agnes from the corner of his eyes, watching her. He was not the best negotiator, he was far to unused to the courtly sparring of tongues used in negotiations and he was never particularly diligent with using it in the first place. But if he had learned something from the house of Black and White and years of navigating the tricky world of mercenary work was how to read someone. He could tell when he set someone off balance, he could tell when someone was about to draw a blade on him, he had good instincts for telling which direction people were leaning to. Right now he could tell whatever was bothering her was defaintly not the beds. There was a moment of silence between them before he decided to break it. "The beds must be quite uncomfortable then, for you to have such worry in your eyes." He said in a moment of bluntness, he didn't sound upset at being lied to. Instead he sounded a bit concerned and his voice was soothing as if attempting to ease her fears im what ways he could. He didn't particularly know the Tully but he was never one to be happy at once suffering.


"Perhaps you should have Lord Tiber move you to a different room, there's certain to be some comfortable beds in the Rock, given my own was, since your now related im sure he wouldn't mind. Such burden should not belong to a fair maidens face my lady." He said, if the first part of his words was fairly simple then the second part was full of multiple meanings as his eyes met hers as if looking right through her. He did not push for answers, given the situation, but it was obvious he could see through her disguise as bright as day. He glanced back towards the track, retaking on its courtly appeal.


"I've been riding for many years, my own horse was a wild dornish sand steed before with the help of a friend I managed to tame it myself at a young age." He said memories of him and a young, spunky Daenna who he would have thought was a boy when they first met if her voice had a lower pitch filtered through him for a moment. "I brought him to Essos with me and while the disputed lands indeed has its share of brutes and savages I ended up getting out just fine, if not completely unscared." He said raising his arm so his sleeve slid back, revealing many scars on his arm. "I even formed my own mercenary company called the Red Spear in my time im Essos. I traveled much of that continent from the secret city of Braavos to the Black walls of Volantis. Where I really learned how to ride in my peak form was the Dorthraki Sea, a massive grassland populated by the horse lords. They don't wear armor and grow their hair long, only cutting it when they are defeated in the state of constant warfare with themselves and neighbors. They are by far the finest riders in the world and every one of them own a horse, often more and it's one of the few places I've seen steeds equal to my Shadowfire. They taught me a few tricks." He said revealing at least part of the extent of his travels as he answered both their questions at once, seeing if he could interest them in the stories of the strange lands of Essos.


@Hypnos


@Lancelot
 
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DARIUS & LINDSAY BLACKFYRE

The Stands, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands



​



Unlike her brother, Lindsay was actually quite eager to watch the joust. It would actually be the highlight of the wedding day. She found the previous melee boring, especially because her brother refused to participate. They had reached the stands a bit late; Darius still eager to find Viserys. If his sister was right, the man would most likely be under an alias but he still found it odd that they hadn't found him already. Lindsay was busy chatting away abut horses or something like that but Darius was busy playing with his fingers as they walked. Of course, they weren't paying attention and bumped into a man with dirty blonde-orangish hair and was basically the same height as Darius.





"My bad, I wasn't paying attention. Quite hectic here with family stuff." The man paused and narrowed his eyes towards Lindsay which made Darius very uncomfortable. "Wait... I think I recognize you guys-- House Hayford right? I am deeply sorry for yo-" The man was interrupted by Lindsay who had shockingly grabbed hold of his right wrist. Darius had suddenly grown interested and titled his head towards Lindsay. Her eyes were focused on the stranger and h had a shocked expression. "Brother... he has a knife hidden in his sleeve. Guessing by the groove, I'm guessing it was from the feast earlier. I think he wants to kill you." Darius remained quiet for a moment while he examine the man's face once again, slowly taking in his appearance. Darius chuckled and waved his hand.





"Lindsay. This is Walder Jr. Tully. I remember him from a book that mother made me read once. The drawing is almost an exact replica. Still, I don't see why a Tully would want to kill me. Especially a man like him-- he must be wanting to kill someone else?" Darius tilted his head towards Walder as he pulled his arm away from Lindsay, still shocked. His face has remained stone cold as usual but he couldn't seem to get his eyes off of Lindsay. Walder took a few steps away from Lindsay but she seemed cautious still, looking at his right arm.





"No. By what I know about this man... he would not risk something that large. No, he was expecting something to go wrong and hopefully save our lives... with a kitchen knife. It's alright though Walder, if anything were to happen we could take care of it" Lindsay said, raising up her dress revealing two long daggers with curved hilts. The man known as Walder did not change his stance at all. Instead, he removed the knife from his sleeve and dropped it on the ground, walking in the other direction. When he was out of hearing distance, Lindsay looked towards her brother with an odd expression.





"Did I do something wrong brother?" Darius laughed loudly, getting one or two looks from people who were looking to sit down. He grabbed his sister's hand and led her to the stands with a smile on his face.
 
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-


The Haunted Forest


-


Hakon crept through the forest carefully. His spear in one hand. His other keeping a small sack filled with dead rabbits over his shoulder. "Do you see anything, Hak?" She said quietly. Hakon looked back and nodded. Seren's eyes were a bright green that stood out amongst the dark colour palette of The Haunted Forest.


She is looking decent enough today as well.


"Elk." Hakon whispered to her. Seren's face grew giddy with excitement. Hakon put a finger to his lips and shushed her before turning his head back to the large bush in which the elk was.


It looked as if it was grazing upon some snow-covered grass.


It still hasn't noticed us.


Hakon through the sack at Seren and gripped both hands around his spear. He planned to sneak up behind the animal and impale it till it was... well... dead.


I could feed myself, the lil' ones, and Seren well with such game. We wouldn't starve for a while at least. The villagers may get jealous though...


He moved carefully through the shrubbery. Trying to make as little noise as he possibly could. He readied his spear and approached the animal. Only it wasn't an animal. Not any more.


"Agh!" Hakon yelped as he fell over onto the snow. "Hakon!?" Seren called from behind the shrubs an' trees. Hakon lay on the ground for a moment, in shock.


The elk looked at him with its eyes. Its cold, blue eyes. The animal was no longer a living one. It belonged to the dead now. Hakon grabbed his spear that had come loose from his hands and tightly tightened his grip around it. He wasn't going to allow himself to die by a dead thing.


The elk stared at him for a moment or two, before it simply shambled off. Almost a minute later, the thing was out of Hakon's sight. Seren rushed over to him as he lay in the snow.


"What has happened?" She asked as she knelt down beside him.


He shook his head. "The elk was... it got away."


I don't want to scare her. Not that she would get scared. Seren was brave, and strong. Stronger than him at times. She hit him, playfully.


"You c*nt." She said with a grin. "I was going to enjoy that meal."


Hakon dropped his spear and pulled her down till she was by his side, in the snow.


"Who said you were gonna get any, eh?" He asked, jokingly. They stared at one another for a moment, before Seren put her lips against his.


They kissed one another for a while before Hakon finally decided to get up. He stood up with help from his spear, and once he was up- he put out his hand for Seren to grab.


"I can do it myself." She chided.


"Of course you can." Hakon responded. He heard a noise in the woods around them and quickly went on alert. He didn't want that dead thing coming back with any more.


That's the second animal wight I've seen in the past year. Winter is starting to show its bearings. Hopefully all I will see from here on are just animal wights.


Hakon knew he wouldn't though. Wights were common when winter was near. They scared him though. They scared him to his very core and he didn't like it.


Hakon Of The Hornfoots didn't like to show fear. He shook his head and looked at Seren.


"At least we 'ave some rabbits to eat and sell." He said.


She nodded in response.


"Come on. We should be heading back home." Hakon spoke, as a chilling wind blew through the trees.


-


Pyke, The Iron Islands


-


"Dawn it is." Vaughan said. He put his cup down. I said I would drink no more. Vaughan wiped his lips with his sleeve. I lie to myself too much.


"Will you be accompanying us, Ellar?" Vaughan asked. The fat man slammed his cup down and let out a shortly lived laugh. "I would. But I may sink your boat, Harlaw!" He jested. Vaughan smiled a thin smile. "We do not need them all to win, aye. But it would be wise to get as many as you can. If you become king and you don't have full support of each and every house, you will encounter many issues down the line- Siegfried." Vaughan said, somewhat sternly.


He caught himself, however.


"Excuse me. I did not mean for my words to sound so harshly." Vaughan bowed his head, slightly.


You should have them all on your side. However, you will NEVER have them all on your side. Not while my niece traverses these waters. Once Siegfried wins, I will have him exile her. That is the best I can do for the girl. She will live a bountiful live in Essos, like she already has...





@Lancelot


-


Harrenhal, The Riverlands


-


"Yes. So, so much." Lady Whent assured Lord Kay. She put her pale, osseous hand in his and he helped her up. They chatted calmly as they retreated to their rooms. When they reached the long hallway, which housed each and every bedroom, Lady Maeve showed the lordling to where he would be sleeping for the night. His room was large and grey. It had one window, round. And the wall was filled with small cracks that let the night air slither in. "I hope you sleep well, my lord." Lady Whent spoke, softly. Kay Baelish wished her a goodnight as well and she closed the door.


"If you may need anything, a pair of servant girls will be stationed outside your door." She said, before finally making her way to her own room. It was larger than Kay's. However, it had no windows. Only one hole in its wall that acted as a sort of balcony. She got a young servant girl to pour her a cup of wine. She held the filled cup in her skinny left hand and peered through the large hole- her eyes locked onto the moon, so high above.


"Will you be needing anything else, m'lady?" The chubby little servant girl asked.


"Yes. Draw my bath, girl. And bring me a boy."


The pig-like girl's eyes widened. She nodded and left.


When her bath was ready, Lady Maeve undressed. Her body was skinnier than her hands. When she looked in the mirror, she was reminded of an old legend her own mother once told her. The Witch Of The Westerlands. It had always frightened her, yet it was one of her favourites.


Lady Whent stepped into the small tub. She sat down in it and washed herself with some of the water. The door opened, and two guards came in- with them was a young man. The young man from earlier, who had left his post as his friends were killed by Ser James Thorne.


The young man looked frightened. Has he heard the tale as well? The guards dragged the boy to Maeve's bathtub. They then forced him to his knees as his chest pressed against it. Maeve put out a hand and brushed the man's hair with it. He began to cry and his tears fell into her bath water.


"Shh." She cooed.


"Please..." He whispered, through tears.


She caressed his hair with her left hand and put out her right. One of the guards placed a small dagger in her empty palm. It was stainless steel and had a black handle which resembled a bat. She eyed the guards and they left. They closed the door behind them and Lady Whent looked the young man in his eyes.


"You were very handsome." She managed to say, before she slid the dagger blade across his throat. He shook for a little bit- and his blood poured into the tub, mixing with the water. Soon, the blood stopped spewing out. The boy was dead. Lady Maeve Whent let go of his hair and let his corpse fall to the floor.


She sighed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes, as she continued to bathe in bath water and blood.


-


The Kingsroad


-


Before anything had even begun, it was over. Thankfully. The man and his small host had left her and William Thatcher be. Moments after, William ordered his own men to move on. Their horses had begun to trot, and the soldiers themselves had begun to chatter amongst one another.


It wasn't long before Aerea spotted an inn. The Ivy Inn. She had found its name in the back of her brain. She held on to William as they approached the inn. However, she was taken aback by what he asked.


"I have told you everything there is to tell you, ser." Aerea asked, slightly frustrated. I haven't told him about my sister and I, or about Ser James. But it isn't his place to know such things. He is a common hedge knight. I... I am a dragon.


"Please. Believe me, William. I have said everything you need to know. And, as I have mentioned, I will pay you and all your men handsomely once we arrive in the capitol." Aerea said.


She looked ahead of William and saw a city in the distance. Her city. "Please." She repeated.


@Ser Davos Seaworth


-


The Red Keep, King's Landing


-


He awoke before dawn to several maesters dressing his wounds. He was in his bed and naked- only for a large white bandage around his leg. And another, smaller one, above his hip. I don't remember being wounded there. As he lay there, staring at the canopy above him, his thoughts quickly came to Cethann.


His brother's death still stung him. Mayhaps they always will?


The maesters talked to him and told him of his injuries. He didn't respond to any. He only listened. They soon left as the sun came up and made the sky outside an orange colour.


He sat up.


"Ah, fuck." He groaned, as his wounds stung. It all stings. His eyes gazed out the window near his bed. The sun rise made him smile, slightly. Seeing it gave him a small sense of happiness an' hope. After watching the sun rise, he stood up. He was a bit dizzy, most likely due to milk of the poppy the maesters had given him. But he found his footing eventually. Once he did, he dressed himself in a beige tunic. He picked up his sword, "Brother", and looked at it before putting it in its sheath and attaching it to his belt.


I have to find the man who killed my brother. I have to find out who he is and why he did it. Only then I can rest. Varic didn't know how he'd go about finding him, though.


However, a name came to mind. Someone who he was sure he could ask for help and counsel. The Grandmaester.





@TheAncientCenturion


-


Storm's End, The Stormlands


-


"I have always been fond of everything about Storm's End." Keila said sweetly. She finished her curtsy and postured herself properly. Ser Ryon had stood up as well.


"I understand I'm asking a lot of you, but we can't let them get away with what they've done."


Keila nodded.


"You are asking a lot, my lord. Some would say too much. You want your fellow lords to rise up against one of the oldest dynasties in all of The Seven Kingdoms." Keila spoke. Her eyes continued to admire the art work on the walls. She saw paintings of anger, of sadness, of death, of war, of love.


They are all so beautiful. But they are just art. War isn't beautiful, nor death. Am I prepared to bring my house to it, however?


She didn't know.


"I have less than two thousand men and women to my name. To look after on Estermont. Why should I put all their lives at risk, Lord Braedon?" Keila asked. A part of her wanted to help him. She wanted to see him overthrow House Targaryen and have them pay for what their sins. But, there was another part of her that didn't. A part that wanted her to advise House Baratheon to make peace.


Braedon will never do such a thing. He wants vengeance. And his vengeance is... it is justified.





"You are my overlord. And I would follow you, without question, in almost every other scenario. But this? We could be destroyed. All of us." She finished.


Her eyes were now locked onto Braedon's.


@JustWhipIt


-


Highgarden, The Reach


-


Once Filicity bathed and dressed herself, she had a small breakfast. Toasted bread with an egg's yolk and crisped bacon. When she finished her food, she found herself walking alongside Eveleen. They were travelling to the courtyard to say "goodbye". Many are leaving today.


"How are you feeling?" Filicity asked her half-sister, as they walked.


"What a stupid, stupid question." She replied.


Filicity lowered her head. "I am sorry."


It was a stupid question. Luthor and young Erik would be leaving with their father today. There was talk of war. And the boys would be fighting in it.


Luthor was around Filicity's age. They had grown up together. She loved him as the nephew he was. She loved Erik as well. He was always such a bright and happy fellow.


Filicity put her arm around Eveleen's arm. "Do not worry, Eve." Filicity said.


That is all I can say...





The courtyard was black with people. She saw all kinds of familiar faces. All of which would be riding north. She saw her younger brother, Darrin.


"You're not going, are you?" She asked him.


He laughed. A sad laugh.


"No. I will be staying here with you and the women." He said with a solemn smile. She smiled back and hugged him gently. I wouldn't want to lose you, brother.


"Where you belong, Darrin." Adair Fossoway spoke. He was dressed in shiny armour. He looked at Filicity with a strange sort of intensity. He held his helmet under his arm.


For once, he doesn't look like a complete and utter fool.


"I will see you both once I return." Adair said, seriously.


"If you return." Filicity replied. She meant it as a joke. But, she realised that it wasn't funny. Adair Fossoway, and all these men, could never come home.


"I expect you to plant a kiss on my cheek when I return, Lady Tyrell." Adair declared. Filicity couldn't help but smile. His gallant-looking armour hides his likeness to an ass well.


"Do not hold your breath." She retorted, with a smile.


A call came from somewhere near the gate and Adair became alert. He put on his helmet and he and Darrin exchanged a hug. Darrin looked as if he was to cry.


Filicity retained her smile, but it slowly begun to fade when Adair and her looked at one another. He put out his hand. She looked at it momentarily before putting out her own.


They shook.


"Don't get beaten up by any women now." Filicity slighted.


Adair chuckled. "I will try, Filicity."


Their handshake broke and Adair gave her one last smile before he disappeared into the crowd of people.


-


"I wish you well mother." Luthor spoke strongly. He kissed Eveleen's cheek and left her. Eveleen tried her best to hold it all back. All my sadness- all my anger.


Her eyes met with Erik Jr. He had her eyes. And her hair, as well. They looked at one another for a bit before they hugged. Eveleen wrapped her arms around him and put her face on his shoulder.


She didn't want him to go. She didn't want either to go. They were her boys. Gods protect them. Erik and her hugged for what seemed like forever.


He finally broke free and she begun to cry. I do not want to let go.


"I'll be alright mother. I'll always be alright. Don't you worry." He said, sadly. She gave him one last hug. She felt cold against his armour, but Eveleen didn't care one bit.


"I promise you." He said.


She let go of him. Will this be the last time I hug my boy? Mayhaps it will even be the last time I lay my eyes on him.





Erik knelt down beside Eveleen, where Hallie and Katleen stood. They two were in tears.


"I bet you both will be so tall when I return." Erik said, cheerfully.


His sisters hugged him and he kissed their foreheads- before standing up and taking a breath. He looked at Eveleen one last time and smiled a sad smile.


"Goodbye, mother."


He left her. They all left. One by one, each man and each horse left the courtyard via the main gates. Eveleen's husband, Ser Erik, kissed her before he got on his own horse.


"See you when we return, my love." He said, ignoring his wife's icy glare. Ser Erik hugged his two daughters and said goodbye to a few others before he, too, departed.


Eveleen watched them all as they went. Goodbye...


She cried as she felt Filicity embrace her in a hug.





 

Hadar Stark & Katsa Borrell

-Aprox. Half past nine o'clock-


(White Harbor)

​



Katsa was the only one still up that evening, getting a meager meal from the tavern that the young boy brought her to, and eating it by herself since most people seemed to be either busy or had an early bedtime. She hadn't much sleep the other night but it didn't bother her, she was used to staying up late and waking up early so this wasn't much different. Looking out at the evening sky, Katsa admired, until some random man rammed the doors right open and fell, the doors letting in the nice breeze, and was panting as if out of breath from running. She longed to be out on a boat sailing and feeling the nice sea breeze, though now was not the time to be thinking of her dreams and she wouldn't be getting the chance to do so either because of the damned old man shouting loud enough to wake everyone in the inn up. He wore a ragged old black leather coat along with boots and a hat, his face wrinkled and eyes as grey as she had seen. Then again she shouldn't criticize his eyes, her own were mismatched already. He looked around at the few people who had come to see what all the ruckus was.


"I've seen them, believe me I have seen them! Thousands of them riding down from the North! I tell you no good will come of whatever it is, I tell you!!" Rambled the man, his rant waking up nearly everyone in the inn by now. The innkeeper was brave enough to approach him, attempting to calm him and get him to say who it was that he saw. "Whom do you speak of?" Asked the lady innkeeper. "The Starks, they're in Moat Cailin," a few of the people were astounded and shared a gasp along with the inkeeper "I saw them this evening, just a while ago! With all their bannermen too!" He exclaimed, hysterical about everything he said. What Katsa had been concerned about was why Lord Stark had brought together all his bannermen. Are they headed down South? Why would they be in Moat Cailin? What's the reason for this? So many thoughts raced through her head until it became to much to bear and she simply just stopped thinking about it and proceeded to finish her meal. Though her question still stood.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"If only the cursed sun would go down I might be able to get some damn sleep but nooo it's just gotta keep me awake..." Hadar muttered to himself, pulling the fur blanket over his head to try and get some actual sleep for once. They'd be up early and heading out to King's Landing him and Timos but if he couldn't get any sleep then they wouldn't be going since he needed to be ready to lead the way, he doubted that Timos could make it there on his own, not like he was underestimating his brother's abilities. Braxis lay at his feet on the bed curled up and already asleep. He envied him for a moment but then began to let his eyes slowly drift shut and his mind slowly be at ease. He wondered how his father was back in Winterfell, and his Uncle, Aunt, Cousins. All of his family. He would likely see them once they returned from King's Landing, hopefully. Finally he began to sleep, his vision going black and his mind blank. Now he knew it would be a matter of time before morning.


Then there was a sudden BANG "I've seen them, believe me I have seen them! Thousands of them riding down from the North!" Hadar jumped right out of his bed, knocking Braxis which woke the dog up, and threw one of his dagger's at the closed door of his room as hard as he could. When he finally realized that the sun was out he though it was morning but he wasn't fooled for long, he could tell it was setting. The only thing he wondered about, and what woke him up, was the sudden burst of doors and loud shouting about men from the North. The North? What? He was as perplexed as ever in this case, who ever was yelling had been vague and too rambled so he opened up the door a bit, yanking his dagger out of it, and peeked out a bit to see what this was all about. The man continued to yell, disturbing the once quiet inn, but he was glad he wasn't asleep because what the man said was something he deemed concerning enough to listen to. His uncle was in Moat Cailin. That, no doubt, was definitely something alarming enough for him to hear and in a rush he went over to Timos' room, banging on the door to wake him up if he wasn't already. "Timos," His voice was hushed "Wake up, Uncle is in Moat Cailin." He said, hopefully that would get his attention. It wouldn't be much of a hike if they were with the Stark forces, which is why he considered leaving before they did.


@Crimson smile
 
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Timos Stark: White Harbor

​



The boy looked up as he heard shouting followed shortly by banging on his door. Uncle is coming here? So I see the whispers told the truth. Grabbing his cloak he once more become Tomas Stark as he wrapped it around himself. Folding up the small slip of paper he had been reading with a list of various names he threw it into the fireplace and only when he saw it fully turned into ashes did he grab his bag and leave the small room he had barely slept in. He met his brother just outside his door. "Let us go meet up with him then. Shall we?"
 

SER BENJICOTT TULLY


Tourney Grounds , Outside Casterly Rock , The Westerlands



​



Benjicott wasn't really one of the most temperate people in westeros per say especially when he felt insulted , but you see unlike other people who might just take a stroll across the garden to calm themselves down Benji preferred to hit moving objects with a stick while on horseback to vent his anger . Seeing that it was still early Benji decided to do just that and partake in the Tourney .


Before he would put up his name in the melee tough he thought of maybe speaking to his daughters just so he could reassure them that everything was alright , although knowing that his conversation with his mother was nowhere near over .


It took some time to find the trio in the stands but when he did he was a bit disappointed to see that their attention was being used up by these two men who were unmistakably Dornish with their dark skin and jet black hair . Benji remembered the time when he'd overheard one of his fathers men-at-arms saying that "if you'd lock a dornishman in his room for more than a week without 'entertainment' he'd probably look to fuck his steed the next time he was let out" , although Benji knew that it was all just a jape he decided that it would probably not be worth the risk leaving his children next to these strange men .


As one of them spoke of their exploits travelling the strange lands of Essos benji approached the two men placing his large hands on the men's shoulders and tightly pulled them in for some sort of an hug , "Ah , now what have we here , you know you dornish have me confused i cant tell your men and women apart ... although i must confess I might not be an expert on that issue seeing to the fact that I called Roland a 'maiden' , something i'm sure doesn't happen quite often ."


He looked towards the girls with a large grin on his face





"But I fear I am being rude , I haven't even introduced myself yet , my name is Ser Benjicott Tully son to Lord Walder Tully and father to these lovely ladies here . I seem to have overheard you speaking of your travels in westeros and i must say that it intrigued me greatly , although such things are of no interest to my daughters sadly they have a more refined taste than I . So let us not bore them with these tales of grandeur , besides with me you can speak of conquest outside of the battlefield ."





With this Benji dragged the two men like little children to get something to drink , while telling them his obligatory story of the woman from the summer islands .





"You know i once lay with this woman from the summer islands and trust me when i say ...."


@Hypnos


@Akio
 
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Before the girls could remark on his claims he suddenly felt someone grab him from behind, his arm drapping over his shoulder almost as if trapping him. Immediately his mind to the thought of this was another mercenary like before trying to assassinate him and from the looks of it had his brother to. In a split second the girls saw his mood switch from friendly to his eyes shifting to cold ruthlessness as he made the switch from prince to warrior and killer in a blink on an eye as he slid his foot behind Benji's and his hand came up to grab Benji's pinky with his hand. He planned to break the finger to force him to let go while sending the man spilling to the ground with his foot when suddenly the man started talking.


His first impression of the man was one of incredulous disbelief, listening to this man talk. The man was apparently an idiot and nearly had him causing another incident, and he found himself having a very hard time believing he was the father of these well mannered and beautiful ladies, but given he dare make the claim in front of them it was probably true. Never the less Cayden wasn't simply gonna let himself get dragged around as he put both hands on Benji's around him, letting go on his pinky and forcefully removed the arm with some force and stepped away from the man, turning to glance at him. His face had recovered it's sense of noble politeness though there was an obvious sense of coolness that hadn't been there with the daughters and it was likely obvious Benjicot might have just managed to offend another member of a great family.


"Perhaps another time my lord but for right now im waiting for my horse to appear so I can do my trials and your daughter's have been graciously entertaining me with some conversation. I am Cayden Martell, prince of Dorne, and this is my brother Daeron Martell and I would prefer if you don't grab me again and let him go, since we must stay here and save our conversation about battles and 'conquests' another time." He said with some distaste. Naturally he wasn't one to look down on a man's sexual appetite but he found it in extreamly poor taste to mention it in front of his daughters considering he doubted he was talking about their mother since the girls didn't have a trace of southern islander in them from a glance.


His poor mood however was broken when he saw from the corner of his eye the squire he had asked to get his horse had indeed returned with Shadowfire. Even in a place like this with a collection of fine stallions Shadowfire got some attention. With a shiny black coat as dark as sin and a mane as bright and vibrant as fire it's coloration naturally drew the eye to the animal with its fine features and narrow head marking it as one of the beautiful sand steeds. Not only that Shadowfire was obviously a top quality horse, while not as big as a Destier had powerful legs and a strong chest as well as other features marked it as top quality. "Speaking of waiting for my horse, there's my steed." He said regaining his good cheer though he directed the comment to the girls, especially Agnes who had asked if he rode as he pointed at the horse who waited patiently with the squire who stood at the foot of the stands and looked at him. "He's been my constant companion for more then 10 years from Dorne to the disputed lands." He said stepping down a step or two before glancing back at them. "The conversation has been a joy my ladies, perhaps we can continue another time?" He said his gaze falling mostly on Agnes, her inner agnst had interested him in her and what might be troubling her and while he failed at his goal of making her give him a genuine smile for the moment he planned to try again sooner rather then later.


@Hypnos


@TheGreyEminence


@Lancelot
 
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TheFordee14 said:
-
The Kingsroad


-


Before anything had even begun, it was over. Thankfully. The man and his small host had left her and William Thatcher be. Moments after, William ordered his own men to move on. Their horses had begun to trot, and the soldiers themselves had begun to chatter amongst one another.


It wasn't long before Aerea spotted an inn. The Ivy Inn. She had found its name in the back of her brain. She held on to William as they approached the inn. However, she was taken aback by what he asked.


"I have told you everything there is to tell you, ser." Aerea asked, slightly frustrated. I haven't told him about my sister and I, or about Ser James. But it isn't his place to know such things. He is a common hedge knight. I... I am a dragon.


"Please. Believe me, William. I have said everything you need to know. And, as I have mentioned, I will pay you and all your men handsomely once we arrive in the capitol." Aerea said.


She looked ahead of William and saw a city in the distance. Her city. "Please." She repeated.


@Ser Davos Seaworth





Click to expand...

William Thatcher


The Kingsroad



​



William was angry now, but he didn't want to risk losing a high paying job because he couldn't keep his composure


"Princess, I grew up surrounded by liars, cheaters, and murderers and I can tell when someone isn't being honest with me. I won't force you to tell me anything, but if you want me to trust you then you need to be honest with me just like I've been with you." he let out a short sigh once he was finished with his sentence, shaking his head slightly as he did.


The rest of the ride went by fairly quickly, there were no more run ins with any soldiers and they reached the gates of Kings Landing within an hour. William paused before he went any further, he looked back at his men before turning back around and continuing on into the city.


Home at last.





@TheFordee14
 

Agnes Tully

Tourney Grounds, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.​



Her face turning a shade of crimson so dark that it almost matched the colour of her hair, Agnes Tully opened her mouth to speak, though not a single word escaped her lips, the young trout taken aback by the blunt nature of the Dornishman's words. He had seen through her masquerade in an instant, and where other men would have been willing to let her be so that she could wallow in her own self pity alone, Cayden Martell was not opposed to calling her bluff, openly mocking the feeble nature of her excuse, despite the fact that he was currently vying for the favour of her family. She did no know whether to be shocked or impressed by such audacity, especially when the prince continued their prior conversation as if nothing of note had occurred and Agnes could feel the racing of her heart as she struggled with how to react. It seemed that excuses and courtesy were not enough to sate Cayden's apatite for information and since she was adamant in not sharing her woes with a stranger, there was little she could think to say to the man, other than to be straight and deny him the information he asked of her, risking not only angering the prince, but also drawing attention to herself that she did not want.


Sitting in silence for a moment, she tried to clear her head, barely even noticing that her cousin had completed his final test with the rings and was now making his way back to the stands, Ser Titus of Stone Hedge making up his flank, a look of purpose in his eye. Mayhaps had she been of clear mind, she would have realised that it was not in fact Cayden Martell that was the subject of his gaze but rather the man standing behind him, just out of Agnes' line of sight and as if he had materialised from a different plain, the Tully suddenly became aware of the presence of her father, standing tall behind the Martell siblings.


Never in Agnes' life had she been so pleased to see his face, and a look of relief flashed across her eyes as Benjicot Tully roared a loud greeting, grappling the two Dornishmen into a firm grip, his hands upon each of their shoulders. However the feeling of euphoria did not long last and the look joy was soon replaced with one of panic, as the Martell reacted with hostility to her father's appearance, grasping his arm as if he were some sort of criminal rather than the heir to the Trident and nearly breaking the bones within his fingers. "Father!" Agnes called out, catching the attention of her sisters who until that point had been attempting to coax a conversation out of young Prince Daeron though to little avail, and the three women gave worried looks as the Dornishman assaulted their father.


Cayden, seemingly reacting to Agnes' words and the words of her father, loosened his grip around Ben's arm, muttering something so quietly that she couldn't quite make out what it was, and allowing the man his freedom once more. Agnes moved over to him, giving her father a warm hug as thanks for saving her from the increasingly awkward encounter, the conversation slowly spiralling downwards into areas that the Tully would rather not discuss. There were a few seconds of tension as the prince uttered an introduction, his words laced with a clear sense of distaste, it was odd of him to react in such a violent way to something so simple, Agnes thought, and she wondered what it was that would spawn such a reaction.


"Speaking of my horse, here's my steed." As if in an instant, the prince's entire persona changed once more, transforming from weary to excited as he gazed upon his mount, jumping down from the stands to greet it. It was smaller than the horses Agnes was used to, and looked to be weaker too, though it had a certain beauty about it, with its dark fur and fiery mane. It must be a special horse indeed to spur such a change of character, Agnes thought and she wondered what kind of relationship this man with the animal. Her (great) uncle had always taught her never to get too attached to ones horse, for if you did then a foul fate awaited you when it inevitably perished "an old horse marks a cowardly rider" he was oft known to say, "unwilling to take risks." She pondered for a moment, wether any of the tales Cayden had told her that day were actually true: starting a mercenary company at such a young age seemed a bit far fetched, as did a noble spending four years gallivanting in a foreign land instead of caring for his people, though she was not one to judge, she had not been honest with him either.


"We'll look forward to it Prince Cayden" Gwenys said at last breaking the silence "I wish you luck in the lists." She whispered something into Melissa's ear and the two girls smirked, giving their elder sister a mocking look. "Fair maiden?" She heard Gwenys mutter under her breath, laughing to herself. "Prince Cayden said his bed was very comfortable, mayhaps he'll be kind enough to share it if you're having so much trouble with sleep."


@Akio @TheGreyEminence
 
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Roland Wilds - Casterly Rock - Melee Pit

​



Trevir smirked beneath his helmet, having gone blow for blow with the man who was now known as the Black Lion throughout the wedding. He was a skilled man, and quite a bit larger than Trevir, but Trevir was skilled as well, and quicker on his feet. That would be the deciding factor, Trevir thought, could his speed carry him through to a victory. He thought so, as after all he was a falcon from the Vale, he would strike swift and true to obtain his victory.


The clash of steel rang out again as Roland battered the rim of Trevir's shield and the edge of his sword with his own blade. Using his reach and swordplay to his advabtage he began forcing Trevir into a steady retreat. Through a slim visor he witnessed the boy raise his shield over and over again, taking note of the one simple mistake he made every time. Swinging down on Trevir one last time his blade would shift mid swing, aiming instead for his hip. It was too late, Trevir had raised his shield too high and blocked his own vision for an instant, just long enough for Roland's blade to crash into his side, his foot sliding out of position on the worked earth below.


"Shit" Roland heard the boy mutter as he tried to regain his stance, but was unable to before Roland thrust a heavy steel boot into his shield, forcing Trevir backwards and onto his back. Quite surprisingly however Trevir was able to commit to a full roll, getting back on his feet before Roland could rush over to finish him. An impressive feat in platemail, and one Roland didn't expect the small boy to be capable of. "You fight well Falcon, but how long do you think you'll survive on the defensive?" Roland question. "Long enough to defeat you Ser" Trevir replied, to which Roland chuckled, finding the young man in front of him quite entertaining.


He was not too serious for his taste, as after all, this was no battlefield, but merely a competition and a test. Slowly circling each other once again they would exchange thrusts and blows with one another for quite some time, testing each others defenses like any true warrior would. However, it seemed that Trevir had taken what Roland said to heart and he began pushing Roland's defense, lashing out with oak and steel as often as he could without exposing himself. To Roland it seemed they had reached the climax of the battle, the moments just before the victor would be decided. Roland had held the edge throughout but through force of will or skill Trevir had held on and taken minimal injury.


But the boy was weary and Roland could see it in his stance, his platemail was heavy, far too heavy for somebody his size to wear without growing tired in a prolonged fight. Now was the time to strike, and strike he did. Swinging in every conceivable direction in rapid succession but maintaining a fluid motion it felt like a hail of blows on Trevir's side. Using his shield and blade the boy would block and parry the strong blows that rained down on him, taking glancing blows every couple strikes. It was only when Roland backed off, breathing heavily that Trevir emerged from his solid defense, moving forward with a purpose he brought his arming sword back for a swing. Seeing Trevir coming Roland gripped the hilt of his bastard sword firmly in both hands as he drew back his sword in preperation.


The clang of steel echoed through the crowd as they all went silent, both fighters having been struck in the head with every ounce of might both knights could bring to bear. Stumbling in opposite directions Trevir nearly fell to the ground on all fours, only barely scrambling to his feet, pulling his helm from his head to reveal blood slowly working its way down the side of his face. As for Roland he simply thrust the tip of his blade into the dirt, leaning on the pommel to keep himself standing and stopping his momentum. Pulling off his helm just as Trevir did there was a noticably smaller trickle of blood coming from his brow where Trevir's sword had bit into his helm and dented it. The same could be said for Trevir's helm, dented in a perfectly straigh line across the entire left side of his helm where Roland's heavier bastard sword had slammed into it, causing much more damage.


Looking at each other Trevir slowly wiped away some blood with his mailed hand, the crimson liquid smearing on the steel. "I yield" he called out, the crowd roaring back to life as they seemed to have found their champion. However, Roland slowly raising his hand for silence quieted the crowd once more, touching the cut on his brow with his gauntleted hand he knew Trevir deserved some respect for his ability to actually seriously harm Roland. After all, his vision blurred slightly at the edges and his hearing was slightly muffled, something he knew was much more severe than his outward appearance let on. "I yield" he spoke loudly, the commoner crowd standing in a confused silence. "The Falcon will be champion alongside the Black Lion if it pleases you Lord Tiber" Roland spoke, still leaning on his blade for support as Trevir looked wobbly at the knees.


@WanderingJester


@TheGreyEminence


@Hypnos


(I honestly don't remember who is watching the melee)
 
Martyn Lannister

​



The Stands by the Melee Pit, Outside Casterly Rock, Westerlands.

​





​



Martyn Lannister watched the battle go back and forth with interest. It seemed that the White Falcon had not yet developed the necessary stamina to go toe to toe with the likes of Roland Wilds yet, and soon the Arryn boy had been put in the defensive while the new Lord of House Wilds hammered away at him. To his credit, Trevir had held his own for an impressively long time, before deciding that he needed to end things before the match turned any more favorably for his opponent. Letting his guard down a bit, he waited for Roland to strike just in time to swing his own weapon. The boy had mistimed the blow though, and the two knights hit each other's helm at the same time. Both of them should count themselves lucky and thank the Warrior; in an actual battle that would've likely been the end of both of them. Shaken, the Arryn withdrew first, before the new Westerlord turned to the Mountain Lion's eldest brother with a request for a draw.


Martyn looked over to Tiber, passed the excited and happy children, the gasping ladies and the lords with various expressions on their faces. Evidently some had gambled quite a few dragons on the match and were not pleased that it would be a draw. Still, the Lord of Casterly Rock stood to his feet and slowly clapped his hands. Each clap resonated across the stands and the melee pit during the confused silence, and when he finished, Tiber spoke with a clearance that carried his voice without much strain to all. "Truly a wonderful conclusion to our bracket melee Lord Wilds. If it pleases the both of you, then I shall declare the match a draw." The murmuring began then as people looked to each other, wondering how that would work. "The winners of this tourney's bracket melee, I present to you, Ser Trevir Arryn of the Eyrie and Lord Roland Wilds of Faircastle!"


He waved a hand, and four servants carrying a massive chest between them carefully carried it forward before placing it in front of the two knights. "5000 gold dragons as a reward. Split it between yourselves however you would like. We thank you for your valor and strength this day. May the Warrior watch over the both of you in any battles to come!" They opened the chest, showing the massive amount of golden coins inside. Another gasp from the lowborn as last time during the pit melee, and even some from the less endowed highborns. The Lannisters however, were undeterred, and began exiting the stands. Martyn shrugged and had already began coordinating escorts out back to the Rock for his family members. He cared little for gold or glory. A fight was to be fought and won, that was all. Anything else was tales and make up things invented to appease children and fools.


With that, the crowd of red and gold, with an occasional blue, silver and grey, began moving out and back to Casterly Rock. Even more impressive were the sheer number of guards between all of the members of House Lannister, Lannett, Lanny and Lantell, with at least two armed men and a Lionguard for each family member. The other highborns either stayed to mingle, dispersed or followed the Lion's pride back to their home.


@Red


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@Fezzes


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@Robyn Banks (For your reading pleasure)


______________________________


Tiber Lannister


The Great Hall, Casterly Rock, Westerlands.

​



Tiber Lannister watched as another night of feast began, a smile on his face as always.


Unlike the first night, this time there were plenty more guarded presence in the Great Hall. Given the fiasco that occurred the previous night, Ser Tidus had arranged for extra security both at the place of the party and at the front gate of the Lion's Mouth. Each invitee were checked for weapons and had them confiscated at the Lion Mouth to be returned later, with the exception of the women and children. The only exception would consisted of the Queensguard, out of respect and courtesy. Each family that had access to the Rock checked in with a list of members they expect to be in their entourage, as to avoid having infiltrators as best as they could (given that they had to clear it up with the names on the list and not just wearing the House's colors). Security had been tightened somewhat one could say, and all who had eyes could see that the Lions controlled what goes on in Casterly Rock.


Looking over, the Warden of the West gave a smile to his betrothed, who looked radiantly back at him with a smile of her own. Leanne had dressed herself in a strapless dress of silver and red, as opposed to the gold and purple the night before, with her hair done up with thin ruby colored ribbons. This would be the last feast before the official wedding the next night, and she had wanted her outfit to reflect both families on both nights. Tiber himself wore a comfortable but elegant outfit, fitted with the colors of House Lannister on him. The only exception was to be the crest of House Brax on his chest next to the gold lion. Looking over, he spotted Celena, who had on a rich crimson dress with a roaring gold lion dominating most of it. It looped around her neck and exposed most her back, and unlike Leanne she had her hair down in curls, perfectly framing her face. With a smile she helped greeted each guest around the hall. To the side stood Martyn, in his armor though without any weapons. The Mountain Lion watched vigilantly for threats around from his position, looking more in place with the security than members of his family.


Tiber grabbed himself a drink and headed over to the nearest table, where his cousin and mostly Castamere Lannister members stood, sat and conversed at. He gave a nod to Leon, who grinned back at him. The cousin was actually slightly older than himself, though no less daring than Albert. He wore an outfit similar to Tiber, only with a roaring gold lion striking down a red one as the coat. Depending on who you ask, they would tell you the red lion was dead already. "How goes things at Castamere cousin? I do hope you've enjoyed yourselves so far." The Lord of Casterly Rock raised his cup.


Leon laughed before clinking his cup with his cousin's. "The gold and silver flow out of our seats like water from the Green Fork, Red Fork and Blue Fork combined cousin. I would daresay things are going well. Now all we need is a fine horse and some fair weather to go hunting in, and the world will be perfect." The blond hair man had personally led the strike force during the War of the Lions to take Castamere and Tarbeck Hall. His men recalled that Leon was both the first to leap off the ships that carried them around the Reyne and Tarbeck's forces as well as the first to scale the walls of Castamere and struck down its defenders. While he still hoped to win Tarbeck Hall, Leon consoled his failure to do so with the prize Tiber gave him after.


"As well as a wife to fix you a meal to come home to, and warm your bed. A good woman is worth a hundred whores Leon." Tiber laughed with his cousin, while another, older man came over. He looked less pleased with the festivities, as though the frown and scowl on his face was permanently etched onto his face. Like Tiber though, the crest on his shirt was of House Lannister of Casterly Rock.


"If I had a hundred whores Tiber, the last thing I'll be thinking about would be my wife," Leon joked back, before the two hit another round of laughter.


The older man grunted, "I doubt you'll have the energy for more then three of them, which is more than I can say about you, my lord." He enunciated the last two words with sarcasm, directing them at Tiber. The Lord of Casterly Rock was unfazed however.


"Ah, Uncle Tyrik, you should really cheer up. It's a wedding celebration after all, not a funeral."


Tyrik Lannister sneered, "Your father's wedding was twice as grand and twice as festive, though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at that. You've always... came short of his standards Tiber." Tiber's eyes flashed for a split moment, though his smile was untouched. Leon, knowing his history with his own uncle, sobered slightly from the jovial atmosphere. Tyrik Lannister had not made a public declaration about his feelings to his nephew, though he had not necessarily hid them either. The tension between the two began long before Tiber had ascended to his current position, when Uncle Tyrik would served as Tiber's father's "chief adviser," even if it was Uncle Edwyn that held the region together as the two partied and flaunted their family's wealth and status to all of Westeros. When the War of the Lions concluded, the older lion had expected nothing less than a full Lordship of a seat of his own, and he had made it clear that his son's actions would place Castamere as his rightful possession. Tiber took deep satisfaction watching his uncle's reaction when he named Leon the Lord of Castamere instead of Uncle Tyrik, and even more when Leon inducted all of his siblings into the cadet branch and his mother but not his father. The boy had come to tolerate, but never accepted, his own father's craven nature, whereas Tiber did not with his own father. To many within the lion's house, any chance of reconciliation between Tiber and Tyrik Lannister of Casterly ended that day.


"You would do well to remember that I am not my father, uncle," Tiber lined the last word with the same tone the his uncle address his position with. "And while I am high above kinslaying, I am not above confiding you to your quarters until you learn proper etiquette or die of old age. Knowing you enough though, it could well be the latter."


Tyrik's face reddened with rage. "You wouldn't dare. My son-"


"Would be completely fine with that, Lord Tiber. It is your wedding feast, though one of many, and I would not want to upset my future cousin in law with any more disturbances. I'm sure after last night we've had enough. I will have to console my mother, but do what you will to keep the peace," Leon cut his own father off, staring at him now with narrow eyes now. Tyrik opened his mouth, but in his anger couldn't formulate any words. Taking advantage of this Tiber gave nod to his cousin.


"Very well, Lord Leon. Well, uncle, will you behave yourself, or will I have to send you to bed without supper?" Tyrik looked for a moment as though he wanted hit Tiber. The Lord of Lannister stood with his head held up, though his hand raised a finger at his side. Martyn had spotted them and stood from his post leaning against the wall. Likely had their uncle actually thrown a punch, he would be on the ground before it even came close to Tiber's face. They wouldn't find out though, as the older man scowled and muttered something before taking a seat and ignoring the two, focusing on drinking the alcoholic beverages in front of him as fast as he can.


Leon sighed before turning back to Tiber. "My apologies for him cousin. It's a wonder how he can act younger than Celena when he's the one that sired me." Tiber waved it off before patting his cousin on the back.


"We cannot control the actions of our parents Leon, otherwise I assure you the War of the Lions would've never happened. Not to worry. As stubborn and thick skull Uncle Tyrik is, he's still family." The Warden of the West looked over a table over and saw his betrothed waving for him to join her. "Speaking of which, I must greet our cousins Lannett and others. Give your mother my best when you see her will you?" Leon smiled and nodded, before Tiber took his leave, heading over to the Lantells before exchanging greetings and accepting congratulations from other, more pleasant family than his Uncle Tyrik.


@Hypnos


@Akio


@TheGreyEminence


@TheAncientCenturion


@SirDerpingtonIV


@Red


@Lancelot


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@Fezzes


@LittleWolfie


@Robyn Banks (For your reading pleasure)
 
Casterly Rock


POV: Daeron Nymeros Martell





Daeron felt slightly less uncomfortable as one of the Tullys responded to him, for some reason he hadn't expected them to be so nice, mayhaps it was due to them being highborn? Or was it because they were not from Dorne? Either way he nodded his head in response, he had been silly to expect the worst. An innocent smile grew on Daerons face, however tiny speckles of sweat still dripped from his brow and his cheeks remained a blush of vermilion that over whelmed his smooth olive skin. Still hesitant to look the girls directly in the eye he did a lot of glancing around to try and avoid awkwardness, little to his knowledge it seemed to only create it. Daeron quickly thought up of a response only for his elder brother Cayden to take the charge, He has always had a way with girls.


Cayden once again started on the topic of his mercenary days, Oh give it a break each time a progressively bitter taste was left in Daerons mouth, his brother had a habit of bringing the worst memories to the forefront. Unexpectedly Cayden put his hand on his shoulder once more Stop It! Daeron screamed internally as his eyes filled with worry and his body forcefully shuffled where his brother directed him, closer to one of the Tully girls. Daeron tried to speak to her but all that came out was gibberish, fumbled words that didn't make much sense may the others take you for vexing me so Cayden. Daeron tried his best to make his sentences clear although to no avail. Daeron didn't have stories of adventure or battle but perhaps they would appreciate it if he talked about something they may be more familiar with, should I offer to sew them a dress? He had plenty of experience in making stuff for the entertainment of others, smallfolk and highborn, he even presented a few plays and tried his own at singing, only the gods know how he managed to pull that off. But he seemed to be a lot more comfortable around the people of Dorne, especially those of low birth. I could ask them about paintings? Maybe they also like tapestries? Daerons allowed his confidence grow a little but...


A large hand landed hard on Daerons shoulder and pulled him in for what was apparently supposed to be a hug, Daeron however did not see it that way. Daeron wasn't the most masculine of men to begin with anyway, many people in Dorne japed and jested at his femininity and even referred to him as "Princess" or "Lady" from time to time. He would much prefer if they just called him craven, at least if that what they mean? He didn't lose any sleep over it but it did not help his shy nature. A small cry escaped Daerons throat, it was relatively high pitched, although his voice wasn't very deep to begin with you would think a very young boy or girl was getting their hair pulled.


Daeron was too scared to speak out, he frantically looked over his brother in desperation, don't do anything don't do anything don't do anything. A sentence repeated in his head, hoping his brother would not bring even more attention towards the group. Luckily Cayden didn't do anything too bad, he got the attention of Ser Benjicot, Daeron managed to slide out of his grip, although by no means from a use of force it was likely due to Caydens distraction. Although as soon as Cayden finished his sentence he seemed to spot his friend Shadowfire. Daeron looked around and finally realised that Shadowfire was not actually a westerosi, but a horse...


Wait no?! Daeron wanted to shout but the words caught in his mouth. Cayden left him and made his way down the steps to his mount, likely preparing for his jousting trials or whatever form of buggery was going on that field. Daerons eyes widened as he turned back to the Tullys EHH?! absolutely stunned Daeron already knew he was going to do something stupid, a slight nervous laughter leaked out the corners of his mouth, although it had a sound of fear rather than humour. "S-so." He began as he rubbed the back of his neck, causing it to go almost as red as his face "You... see i'm not actually the knight type." Daeron began to breathe heavily, even if they weren't he felt that the Tullys would all be judging him as he spoke. "D-do my ladys enjoy paintings?!" He said in a last ditch effort, looking like he was close to fainting.


@Akio


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Lordsport


POV: Siegfried Harlaw





A smug grin formed on Siegfrieds face With men like these backing me I wonder will my foes even stand? His eyes were full of greed and wroth and pride, not only would the build an Iron Fleet worthy of the Drowned God himself but he would avenge their lost King. OH! A rare thought seemed to spark inside the rusted gears of Siegfrieds dull brain. A flagship fit for a King?! King Conns Revenge it shall be called! (YARR!)


Siegfried stretched his arms and leaned back in his seat, he had finished the meal of fish and had drank plenty of ale to ruin the night of at least a dozen men and another haughty laugh filled the room as Siegfried laughed along with Lord Botleys jest "Yer too harsh on yoursel! I am sure we have more than enough room for you Botley, we are ironborn, we rule the seas as the Drowned God gifted us the tools do we not?"


Siegfrieds grin changed to one that would surely make any greenlander stain his britches with shit and piss, it was more akin to an animal than a man. Perhaps the greenlanders had done right in one thing naming the Ironborn reavers wolves of the sea. And Siegfrieds full intention was to bring back the legendary days of old, reave and kill and loot and rape and rule. The isles and the sea shall be mine!


"No worries, Greyjoy words are naught but wind if it does not fill our sails there is no need for them, we are iron born and action is what matters. As for those who will try and appose my rule..." Siegfried paused letting the room fill with tension, mayhaps a sense of foreboding or danger "Lets not ruin a perfect night shall we?" a dark voice slid off the edge of Siegfrieds tongue his eyes full of not anger or evil but malice, unclear if it was intentional or not but one thing was for sure. Siegfried was no silver tongue, and he was different from the greenlander Lords, what he said was absolute sincerity.





@TheFordee14


Harrenhal


POV: Kay Baelish





Kay rested his back against the door as it closed, his tilting upwards to look at the ceiling, he closed his eyes for a brief moment What a lovely day. Even after getting himself in quite the mess he managed to retain his air of confidence, almost like he had a plan. I just need to leave the rest to Cethann and those Goldcloaks of his. The room was to be expected from Harrenhal and it's ruined state, the night air sneaked through the cracks in the walls, there was also a singular window accompanied by what seemed to be a balcony. Right then Kay straightened his cloaks before making his way towards a desk, swiftly pulling out the chair before preparing to write a letter, he wrote to the major domo of the Kings Landing branch Catherine, ordering her to gather the men and to alert Cethann of the current situation, although he didn't outright say why in case unwanted fingers pried open the letter before it reached its destination he put enough in so that he was sure Catherine would be able to piece things together.


Once completed he simply rolled the parchment up in a leather string, unfortunately he didn't have his sealing but he was not expecting this situation, she will understand. He opened the door to meet the servant girls that Lady Whent had provided him with and reached out to them with letter in hand "Take this to your maester, have him send it to Kings Landing, my brothel, I am sure he will know which one it is rather famous." he casually winked at them as they ran off with letter in hand. Kay felt his eyes grow heavy, struggling to keep them open, sleep couldn't hurt,
 
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Ser Benjicott Tully

Tourney Grounds, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.

​



The events that occurred after his little fiasco in greeting the Martell boys , things became a bit hazy , at one moment 'prince' cayden as he liked to be called grabbed Benji's hand as if he was trying to break it and in the other moment the man simply left to tend to his steed as if nothing of note had transpired , and just to top all this off his daughter had moved over to give him a hug in worried that the boy might have just tried to hurt him .


After all the confusion had passed benji finally spoke up . "Feisty , that one eh ? and what did he call himself , a 'prince' i don't know what they think they are princes of , piles of sand and stone ?" by this moment benji had completely forgotten that there was another martell still among them .


After Benji was done with his snide remarks it was Gwynes's turn , "Prince Cayden said his bed was very comfortable, mayhaps he'll be kind enough to share it if you're having so much trouble with sleep."


Benji loved being around when his kids would fight , they were ofttimes not very kind with their words which made the whole thing even more fun .


"I wouldn't recommend sleeping with a dornishman , doesn't the song tell us that they aren't even able to satisfy their wives let alone their mistresses ." said benji with a wide grin probably referring to the song 'the dornishman's wife' insinuating that the dornish probably have small ....


Benji's laughter at his previous statement was cut short by the soft squeak from what appeared to be the terrified face of a man going to war .


"D-do my ladys enjoy paintings?!"


Benji felt pity on that kid , it was hard to imagine that at some-point in benji life he was also like that terrified of speaking lest he was to make a fool of himself , the boy seemed like he was no harm so he was fine with letting him stay with the girls .





"Actually that is a good question , what do you girls enjoy doing , all i ever see you do is sit around in groups and giggle , about what , the seven only knows . Oh well then i must be off to give my name up for the tourney , i'm sure this man here will take good care of you while i'm gone wont he ?"





@Hypnos


@Lancelot


 

Agnes Tully

Tourney Grounds, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.​



Agnes merely let out a sad sigh as her sister hurled her insults, keeping the small frown that was beginning to form upon her lips hidden behind her hands. Living in Horn Hill for a time had made her very nostalgic for her home back in Riverrun and it was oft times easy to forget about some of its less than pleasant features such as the incessant teasing from her sisters, or the drunken fights between her father and mother. Agnes loved her home, much like she loved her family but she'd be the first to admit that it wasn't always the utopian paradise that she remembered from when she was a little girl. Despite the resurgence of some less favourable memories, Agnes tried her best to keep up a calm appearance, conscious of the shaking she had received from Prince Cayden, she was growing tired of the pitiful looks she seemed to be receiving and too of the words of scorn from some of the more cynical people at the wedding and she resolved to try and keep her feelings in check in future.


"Father! He is a prince of Dorne, his sister is Elia Martell. Theres is one of the more powerful families on the continent." Melissa spoke up quietly, though her words were met with naught but deaf ears. Benjicot Tully had never been politically inclined, nor it appeared did he care much for civility and courtesy, even going so far as to mock the Martell family in front of its youngest son, something even Agnes thought in bad taste. "I apologise Prince Daeron, my father is merely excited for the joust and is not thinking clearly." Gwenys snickered slightly at her father's words though quickly regained composure and the three girls offered comforting smiles as the nervous boy before them began to speak in a rushed and stuttering tone, clearly trying his hardest to keep up a conversation despite his lack of experience in social situations.


"Paintings? There are many fine pieces of art adorning the walls of Riverrun, and every year our grandfather likes to commission fresh works to maintain a new look. There is a particularly stunning piece hanging in the lords solar that depicts every true born Tully since the times of Ser Axel the bold, first lord of Riverrun." Gwenys was the one to reply to Daeron's question, and her words made Agnes once again long for home, soon forgetting her prior revelations. "Though I am sure it pales in comparison to the great artists of Dorne."


At that moment her cousin Ser Otho remerged from the stands, with Ser Titus by his side, the boy sporting a particularly nasty bruise upon his forearm, though Agnes hadn't seen where he had got it from. "Fuck off Ben!" Titus muttered before looking up and realising who else was present, murmuring a brief apology to his younger cousins and too to Prince Daeron. "If you would excuse my language. I saw Lothar pass by stands a second ago and he looks in a bad way." Titus chuckled, his hand upon his cousins shoulder. "I've already had your horse returned to the stables where it can do no one any harm and I promised to keep your girls out of trouble, I don't mean to let them watch their father be knocked senseless in a bloody joust. You're growing old cousin, you'll have to leave the tourneys to younger men I'm afraid. Don't want to rob Riverrun of its heir now do we?" His tone was teasing, but stern and whilst Agnes wasn't aware of why Titus would want to keep her father out of the joust she did agree that it might be for the best, though she said nothing.


"Father, Titus, Prince Daeron, if you would excuse me I would like to take my leave. I fear I am unwell and don't want to burden you with my presence." Agnes spoke at last, taking the opportunity whilst her father was distracted with Ser Titus to make an exit. She had quickly lost her appetite for the joust, especially after Cayden's little interrogation and she would rather find somewhere quiet to spend her time alone.


@Lancelot @TheGreyEminence @Akio
 

Cayden Martell

Midnight Feast
​




Cayden had finished his trial with relative ease with only a hiccup or two on the way as the lance was heavier and slightly longer then he was used too. However he wasn't done practicing because after grabbing a set of armor it through of his aim more then he expected. From that point on he had been ruthlessly practicing to correct his aim. While master of the horse didn't mean master of the lance he learned quickly and began developing a trick that could give him the upper hand against more experienced jousters, a process he felt he was almost finished with. He had been considering skipping the party entirely in order to continue practicing but after some time ahorse he wanted to rest his legs, he felt confident he would perfect the trick before the end of the night so he bathed and went on to a party. With a greater access to a wardrobe now he had more options to work with he changed his style from his first night there. His style was different from the first day with his more dornish style of dress. He dressed in a black shirt with a rich dark color robe with a sash around his waist was also black paring contrast to his bright blue eyes as well as his previous dornish dress. He wasn't even sure himself if this was intentional when he first got it looking about on it but now after his fight with Elia he wanted to separate himself from her in some small measure, if only for a moment showing some dissatisfaction with her current direction.





He strode into the next feast, his hair still slightly damp from bathing which he did only a minute or two before coming here having practiced till the last couple minutes. Much like yesterday people were filling into the hall when he entered, glancing around to see if he could see Daeron who he left and from when he last saw him was still speaking to the Tullys though missing was the one introduced as Agnes. He still wondered what was going on with that girl, and what did she know that her sisters did not to put such strain on her shoulders. Etheir way it wasn't something he likely would be able to find out now because if she was here she would likely be with her family and the rest of the Tullys. As he looked around he heard a voice right to his left rise in greeting to someone else and when he looked he couldn't help but be struck speechless for a moment.


He was treated to the sight of Celena Lannister dressed in a brilliant red dress the color of sunset with a open back, golden hair trailing down her back as bright as the sun. He had known many beautiful woman and had gotten close to many of them, some of them could be said to be as equally beautiful as the woman in front of him but something about her struck him in this moment as he found his mind wandering to a song and a line he so often heard even in Essos. "I loved a maid of summer, with sunlight in her hair." He said playing over the line in his head. By now he had already heard stories of her being named queen of love and beauty at a tournament some time ago. He found it odd the knight never made a move so he assumed the man was from a minor house far below the Lannisters so he didn't try for it. Now he just wondered if the man was just stupid. He stepped towards the Lannister with a unreadable look as he glanced at her. "Lady Lannister, I would say you look stunning but that word would not give justice to how you look right now." He said not even having to over exaggerate his words to her as he waited for her answer.


@WanderingJester
 
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