OLD RP - The Crownlands

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[FONT= 'Courier New']Evelyn[/FONT]


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[SIZE= 11px]"I was passing through and I saw the bird but I didn't want you to think I was impolite for looking so I pretended to look at the flowers instead," Evelyn finally confessed, dropping her gaze briefly to the floor before returning it to him as though determined to seem more confident than she was. Jon Ashwood seemed nice enough, he didn't seem the type to become angry with her-- at least, she hoped not. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]In her embarrassment at his comment about the fact that she had only just left an arrangement, she forgot about his joking question and flushed bright pink. Presumably he was referring to Jasper and whoever his young companion had been, although for obvious reasons he wouldn't know who she had been with exactly. She only nodded and continued to blush as he began to give her what felt like a critical examination. Immature? Perhaps it was her demeanour, or that posture that Miranda often mentioned-- instinctively, she straightened her back a bit more and raised her chin a fraction. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]"No, not everyone in Westeros." She agreed with the ghost of a smile. It was the, she wasn't just what people would deem a common whore, she never had been; her clients were always lords or knights or other important people, especially with her current employer. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]@JPTheWarrior[/SIZE]


 
 
Jon smiled as the girl made the same move again. First she becomes confident but then her confidence disappear and she just becomes a girl again. He sighed and grinned. "I see. So how much does it cost? To stay one night with you?" asked as he started walking towards the stone park bench. He then sat leaving space for her to sit. He moved his left hand and hit gently the stone surface with the palm of his hand, gesturing her to sit next to him. He looked at the dark sky where his bird was flying and waited for her to answer. He was looking for his brother but now he found something more interesting. That girl was amusing him. She was just a pretty face but she was protected by a powerful woman and so Jon needed to be careful. 


He looked back at her and said, after noticing her pink coloured cheeks "You are blushing because I talked about something that was your job?" he shook his head "Well I have met some people who like shy girls" he said looking at her. The moonlight would hit his black raven hair. It made it look more like a dark blue than black.


@ailurophile
 
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[FONT= 'Courier New']Evelyn[/FONT]


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[SIZE= 11px]"I think that would depend... I don't usually arrange that sort of thing myself," Evelyn replied carefully, hesitating before trotting over to join him on the bench, careful not to sit too close not too far. While she didn't want to seem as though she was trying to sit as far away as possible, she also didn't want to accidentally invade his personal space either. It was difficult to tell for sure what the man's intentions were.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]"I'm sorry, I just seem to blush at everything. Believe me, my lord, if I could stop it I would," She admitted, placing her hand in her lap and gazing up at the sky to see if she could spot the hawk.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]@JPTheWarrior[/SIZE]


 
 
He nodded "So you don't even know how much you body costs?" he asked although it was a question that wasn't meant to be answered. "That is kinda sad. So why do you sell your body? You don't have any other way to earn money? Is it because you have a hidden lust?" he asked turning his head towards her. He saw her looking at the sky like she was looking for something. He guessed it was his hawk and so he smiled at her and whispered in her ear "Want to touch my pet?" he asked "Because I think it is written on your face that you want to see it closer" he said backing away and looking back to the sky. The hawk was hidden on the darkness of the night but his black figure could be seen the moment it passed infront of the bright moon.


He whistled and the bird flew in the direction of them it landed in the space between Jon and Evelyn. Jon Ashwood grinned "Come on touch it" he said with a wink and grabbed the hand that was on her lap. He gently put it on the hawk's little head and let it go so she could pat it as much as she liked. The bird would only attack her if Jon ordered her to.


@ailurophile
 
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[FONT= 'Courier New']Evelyn[/FONT]


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[SIZE= 11px]"It's complicated. Besides, nobody could ever treat me as well as my Lady does, so it's far from a bad situation," Evelyn shrugged one shoulder in a slightly unformal way, seeming to truly believe in her words rather than just be making up a poor excuse. There were several reasons for her work but she wasn't about to delve into them-- she merely offered a little laugh at his suggestion that she carried out her work to fuel her own desires.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]She snapped her gaze away from the sky when he whispered in her ear. Did she want to touch the hawk? She wasn't quite sure, all she knew was that she was very interested in it and it's master. Jon was different to Daniel, but that wasn't necessarily a negative thing.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]Evelyn held her breath when he moved her hand to the creature's head, for a moment truly fearing that it would lash out at her. When it didn't, however, she risked one tentative stroke with the back of one of her fingers, keeping her touches gentle.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]"It's beautiful." She complimented, glancing up at Jon with a grateful smile, pleased that he had let her see the bird again. Perhaps she had been correct in her assumption that he was a nice man.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]@JPTheWarrior[/SIZE]


 
 
Jon Ashwood smiled at Evelyn. She looked like she was hiding something but Jon wasn't in a mood to try and discover it. Plus, even if the girl was of a way lower rank than him, she was still one of lady Miranda's girl. Miranda was far too dangerous for him to mess with. His kind smile formed when she complimented his little pet. "It is a he. It doesn't have a name though" he said "I prefer calling it hawk or interacting him with the whistles. Hawks are meant to be dangerous creatures and I think calling it by a name will soft him" he said looking at his pet and petting him a bit. "


He then got up from the cold stone seat and stretched his arms. He whistled and looked at the bird. He smiled as the bird jumped towards Evelyn. The claws didn't pierce her skin, but it would hurt a bit since they were sharp. Jon Ashwood sighed and looked at her. "Could you send a message to lady Miranda? I wanted you to ask her if I could arrange a meeting with her. Say it is for business" he said moving his hand towards her. He showed the back of his hand so she could grab it. He moved his head towards her and smiled "So tell me something Evelyn. Aren't you cold? I mean it is summer night but still..." he said and took out his jacket stretching it towards her.


He had a plan. Lady Miranda was a rival of Jon Ashwood and he wanted to learn the Mistress of Whispers' secrets. However, he knew he wouldn't manage to complete his mission if he didn't get close to her. Perhaps, with this woman, he could do it. HE smiled gently and kindly like nothing was passing through his mind waiting for her to accept the jacket.


@ailurophile
 
[SIZE= 14.6667px]Laenor Velaryon[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14.6667px]The Red Keep, King’s Landing[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14.6667px]Slightly caught of guard by Celena’s inquiry, a phantom pain shot through the hand of Laenor Velaryon, bypassing the ineffectual defences of his sealskin gloves and almost forcing him to the drop the goblet that until now he had been cradling delicately between his ring finger and thumb. The tourney was a spot of bother for Laenor and one that in truth he had not given much thought to. Whilst it was certainly apparent from previous achievements that he had a fondness for the list, he had not so much as lifted a lance since the previous year, before he had returned to the Stepstones, and he was well aware that certain inconveniences picked up from the Prince’s most recent campaign may prevent him from once again claiming championship at such events.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14.6667px]“I can understand your brothers’ struggles, I have a sister of my own who is yet to be wed, and let there be little doubt that any unworthy fool who thinks to find himself a bride, would sooner find his hands at the bottom of the Blackwater Bay than resting upon her.” His smile revealed that he was joking, at least partially, for he knew that his sister was far too stubborn to let him offer even a word in regards to who she would eventually wed, though the sentiment still remained: he would not stand for mummers and fools.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14.6667px]As they talked Laenor noticed Celena’s eyes shifting ever so slightly to a figure behind him, likely some other guest or family member who had arrived to participate in Lord Tiber’s company. Almost instinctively his gaze followed hers, landing upon the face of a clearly angry, yet otherwise fairly familiar Dornishman: Lewyn Martell, Laenor’s very own cousin (Once removed if one were to be pedantic) and the disinherited former heir to Dorne.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14.6667px]Laenor only knew of Lewyn in passing, though what he had heard was fairly positive, it was very rare to hear his father speak anything but ill of the Dornish, yet even he regarded Prince Lewyn in a fairly positive light, a privilege not shared by the rest of the Martell family. Laenor would have largely ignored the Prince’s presence and let them both go back to what they had previously been doing however there was a glint of something sinister in the man’s eyes that held his gaze for longer than was customary, and if he hadn’t known better he would have thought that he himself was the subject of the Prince’s wroth.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14.6667px]“I’m afraid I have no intentions to enter the lists upon this occasion.” Laenor turned back to Celena, refocusing his attention back upon the matters at hand, there would be time to catch up with family later. “I am tired from my time in the Stepstones, and I fear that my skills are a little rusty. I do however look forward to seeing your brother compete in the melee, I have not seen Ser Martyn fight in quite some time and I eagerly anticipate his victory.”[/SIZE]



[SIZE= 14.6667px]Behind his head he could hear the commotion of other people moving and a few distinctive voices that he recognised from his childhood. It seemed that he would be wishing his cousin a happy wedding day sooner than he had anticipated. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14.6667px]@WanderingJester @Akio[/SIZE]
 
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[FONT= 'Courier New']Vaella Targaryen[/FONT]


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[SIZE= 11px]Vaella smiled and met his gaze, reaching back with her free hand to open the door. It seemed a shame for him to leave so soon, since they had only just been reunited; besides, she had never been keen on being on her own for too long and craved the company. That and the fact that it was growing dark and she wasn't sure if she had enough candles in her room, she didn't want to be alone if her room wasn't illuminated enough. Perhaps it was a childish fear but to Vaella it was real.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]"You're going so soon?" She asked casually, clearly hinting that she was inviting him to join her for a little while longer. Although she couldn't think of anything to talk about she was sure they could think of something, and even if they say in silence it was better than being alone. Then, her eyes fell on the red dress hanging in her closet, which reminded her of Aegon as he had helped her pick it out-- oh, no! In her haste and excitement at being reunited with Vaegon, she had completely forgotten everything about Aegon. She'd promised she'd accompany him when he sang, and it was the night before his wedding day, she couldn't retire so soon and leave him alone.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]"We have to go back!" She exclaimed with a gasp, reaching past him for the door. It was sad to break up their meeting yet again, but there was no telling what could happen if they didn't return. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot, you have to forgive me. Come back with me?" [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]The young woman didn't even wait for his reply, she slipped past him and out of the door back into the hallway again. Only when she was outside did she turn and look expectantly at him, waiting for him to either accept or decline her offer for him to return to the dinner with her. She just hoped he wouldn't be too offended that she had cut their meeting short. [/SIZE]


@SuperSpice


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[FONT= 'Courier New']Evelyn[/FONT]


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[SIZE= 11px]"Oh!" Evelyn gasped as the hawk came closer to her, gazing down at it with wide eyes. She wanted to withdraw her arm sharply but didn't dare move for fear that it'd react badly to the sudden movement. Glancing up at Jon, she smiled and seemed to relax again, "A meeting?" She echoed, contemplating this for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Of course I'll pass on your message, my lord." Passing on the message was one thing, but the girl couldn't guarantee that Lady Miranda would be interested or available. After all, with the upcoming wedding there were many people from all over Westeros in King's Landing, and that would likely make her a very busy woman.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]When he offered her the jacket, she dropped her gaze again and looked shyly at her lap.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]"Thank you very much, my lord, but I will be alright." She assured, shaking her head and declining his offer as politely as she could.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]@JPTheWarrior[/SIZE]


 
 

 


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-


Ave Redwyne


Ave didn't like the way she'd had gained the status of 'wallflower' at this dinner. I hate how everyone at this godforsaken dinner party is so caught up with one another- and not with I. A series of scenarios play out within her mind. She could go sit back down with her brother and listen to him moan about the wine he won't ever stop sipping. Or she could just go and found some kitchen scullion to pleasure me...


No.


I want him.


Lewyn Martell gulped down his wine unwisely as he stood there, staring at Lady Lannister and an attractive man Ave didn't have the pleasure of being an acquaintance of. Lewyn looked angry, and sad, and utterly pathetic. He was clearly in-love with her. Celena Lannister. Can I settle with second best? Ave looked at Lewyn's coal-coloured hair and chiseled jaw. I certainly can.


"Are you alright, my lord?" Ave began, "You seem very- um, uncomfortable?"


Ave placed her hand on his bicep, gently.


 


@Akio
 
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Rhaella Targaryen


just thought i'd put something here considering i haven't posted in like a month


[tags] -


[mood] bored


Her siblings were far more sociable then Rhaella ever had been, said girl relaxing into her seat as best as she could, considering the nervous energy that spiraled through her at being a guest in such a distinctly familiar setting. She only picked at her food rather then engaging in the sport of eating said morsels, pale eyes following the motions of those throughout the room. Lifting her fork in a decidedly unsure manner, Rhaella allowed her eyes to flit to where her siblings were - Rather had been. They seemed to be have disappeared from there place at the table, Rhaella muttering a quiet expletive at her lack of noticing this fact sooner. Hadn't they wished to sing to there guests, or something of that nature? But frankly, it was none of her business so Rhaella thought better then to push the matter.


In spite of her putative manner of unsociable cues, Rhaella found her eyes casting over the table rather curiously for one to engage in conversation with. Noting her brother still to be in the hall just farther away from the seat he'd first taken, Rhaella observed that he seemed to be in a bad mood. For whatever reason. Casting another once-over of the hall, Rhaella gave up, over-dramatically allowing a huff to be issued from her lips as she allowed herself to droop back into the chair.


 
 
Lewyn


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Lewyn felt his head pulse, not knowing if it was from the wine or the rage. He felt as if his view was tinted and his breathings harsh and hard, searing his lungs. The conversation rung in his ears like bells but he could no longer hear the words as he tried to control himself. He could hear the pulsing of his heart, rushing blood to his limbs as he felt his dominate sword twitch as if it longed to swing and cut. Rarely had he felt anything like this and never outside the field of battle, and even that was different. This was not just adrenaline, this was a pure, volcanic, hatred. He held his tongue, biting back words because he felt if he opened his mouth he would be unable to hold back anything he wanted to say and he would no longer be able to hold himself back from doing something he would regret. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]He felt his rage bubbling, to the point he felt he would not be able to hold it in, as if he was swelling at the seams and about to burst when he realized the look on Celenas face when she looked at him, almost as if she shocked and perhaps even afraid. Suddenly all his rage fizzled and died within him as he realized how he must look and what he almost planned to do. What was he thinking, endangering his family but giving into his emotions in such a public setting. Besides what would Celena think of him if he attacked Laenor, her friend and… No he didnt want to think about the rest. He slid back on the bench, disgusted with himself when he felt a gentle hand put on his leg. He glanced back to see Ave Redwyn, an expression of concern on her fair face, as he realized she was talking to him. “Yes… Something is just sitting improperly, perhaps something I ate.” He said, despite the fact he had not so much as touched the food in front of him and had only drunk some of the wine. Nevertheless he gave her a token of a time, the best he could do in his current state of mind. “Thank you for worrying about me Lady Ave.” He said, standing as he looked at Laenor and Celena. “I’m gonna let you two get reacquainted, it's been awhile since I left Dorne and I want to catch up with a few others. Please excuse me.” He said giving a quick excuse, not knowing if he could stay here much longer and still remain in control of himself.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]For a moment he wandered aimlessly down the bench, not sure if he wanted to leave or stay, for a moment he felt hopeless, he left because he didn’t know how much longer he could watch but what chance did he have anymore. All he could do was watch, as Laenor took everything he wanted and he didn't know how to stop it. He bit his tongue, feeling a bit of blood fill his mouth as he felt rage roll through him again. He had crowned her and then left and he still had a hold on her heart, they had both won on her name day and wet it was him who got everything and him who ended up with nothing. If he tried making his feelings known back then would things have been different? If he let her know why he fought with such a fervor that day was for her? It didn’t matter, now if he made his feelings known he only felt he would be disregarded. He didn’t know what he could do anymore. He found himself sitting at one of the far ends of the table, trying to avoid turning his eyes to Leanor and Celena as he drank heavily, trying to temporarily drown his sorrow, not knowing who might be watching.[/SIZE]
 

Tiber Lannister


Red Keep, King's Landing, The Crownlands.


 


 


Lord Tiber Lannister smiled as he regarded Auntie Cassie.  He wouldn't normally say the words out loud, but she was amongst his favorite relatives.  With his castle literally sitting on top of a fortune, the line of yes men and lewd women throwing themselves at him seemed endless.  In the midst of that, Auntie Cassie's no nonsense and sharp tongue was, if nothing else, a breath of fresh air.  The Lion of Lannister understood the need to be rebuked, and could always count on the aging but still beautiful lady of House Wilds to... correct him when he strays from his path.  He had always wondered if his father felt the same about Cassandra, and hence kept close relations with her, even after she left for Fair Isle.


Regarding the couple, Tiber smiled as he twirled the contents of his cup his hand.  "Ah of course, where did my memories go.  It is Auntie Cassie after all."  He inclined his head respectfully.  "I should know better than to think someone here capable to locking you up without at least taking an arm, a leg or... a hand off.  My apologies dear Auntie."  A quick reference to his grandfather brought back memories of the kind old man, who had, through sheer determination, managed to regain a good portion of his skills with his left hand before he died.  Even with Lady Brienne's control of the bureaucratic things, Lord Jaime Lannister had to devote more time to administration after being Lord than any other in his lifetime, as well as being a father when his children started coming in.  The Warden of the West thought about the stories he had learned, about the events leading up to his grandfather losing his hand, and closed his eyes as the image to a boy thinking hard as he went about his studies, remembering the lessons.


Opening his eyes again, Tiber looked pleasantly at Roland and Cassandra.  "Well, you may very well ask Martyn about his plans for a wife.  It would seem that he does not have a preference at the moment.  As you may imagine, there's no shortage of women willing to be bonded in holy matrimony with him, and I've been considering the most advantageous alliance.  After all, we shouldn't just entrust a direct line of the Rock to just anyone, should we?"  His eyes flickered over to Uncle Tyrik, who had already stormed away at Auntie Cassie's words.  To be sure, the Lord of Casterly Rock would sooner sign the seat over to a Lantell than to Tyrik Lannister.  Still, he was family, and Tiber was no kinslayer.  "As for Celena dear auntie, it is not so easy, not unless I wish the ire of my little sister for the rest of our mutual lives.  She wishes to have a say in who she marries, and while I can take that away, I think the trouble that course of action will cause might just be more than I'm willing to risk."  He forked another bit of food into his mouth, before swallowing.  "Of course, if I recall father's stories correctly, you would understand this situation well, after what happened between grandfather and yourself?"  He had given a subtle nod to the guards, who replied in kind and dispatched a few of his peers to follow the disgruntled older lion.


To his side, Uncle Edwyn gave a nod to Cassandra and Roland.  "Think nothing of it Cassandra.  It's been a long day and much remains to be done, lest of all your nephew and niece's marital statuses.  I am merely tired is all."  He looked over to Wilhelm with a frown.  "Wilhelm, don't forget your manners; greet your aunt and uncle."  If one looked closely on the other hand though, the Lord of Lannisport did look slightly uncomfortable.  Edwyn had seen the way Cassandra verbally emasculate men in the past, and even her husband had not been able to avoid that particular skewer.  He also remembered how she didn't hesitate to shift the humiliation to physical if push comes to shove, as demonstrated by several black eyes and swollen faces on both men and women as they grew up.  The Lord of Lannisport knew to tread carefully around her, knowing that, perhaps out of all the females in the family, the term "lioness" suited Cassandra the most.


Meanwhile, Tiber blinked and looked up sadly, but still lovingly to his wife.  "My apologies to you too Leanne.  The most beautiful woman in the world sitting next to me and I forget about her."  He turned to the newcoming couple.  "I do believe you remember my lovely wife, Leanne?  Leanne, you remember Auntie Cassie and Lord Roland don't you?"  Of course they had met before, at their wedding and during various visits later, though to Tiber's knowledge his wife had never properly spent time with either of the persons from Fair Isle.  Just then, the Lion of Lannister looked over to the entrance.  "Speaking of arranging marriages, please excuse me for a moment.  The Hightowers have arrived."  He gave a kiss to Leanne's cheeks, just near the corner of her mouth, before whispering in her ear, "we'll get some private time tonight dear."  Then he walked over to where a group of men and women walked in.


@TheTraveller


@Leusis


@JustJazzy


@Red


_____________________________________


Celena Lannister


Red Keep, King's Landing, The Crownlands.


 


 


Lady Celena Lannister nodded politely, but couldn't help but feel disappointed to hear that Laenor would not compete in the tourney, but did her best not to show it.  She smiled at the handsome Velaryon before curtsying, spotting the Dornish prince drinking heavily.  The Lion Maid frowned before deciding to head over there.

"Ah, well, I'm sure many a maidens will be downcast at that news Ser Laenor, though I thank you for your best wishes for my brother.  Your care for your sister is admirable, as I can feel a certain sense of protectiveness for Martyn as well, and a lesser sense for Tiber, since I've known Leanne for a bit."  Celena gave another curtsy and stood up straighter.  "I'm sure you'll need your rest now, so if you'll excuse me, I do hope you enjoy the dinner and the rest of your time in King's Landing."  With that she turned and began heading in Lewyn's direction, concerned for her friend.  The Lion Maid had never thought of him a drunk, and the rate at which he consumed alcohol alarmed her, even more so than the look of fury she saw on his face before.  Was it something she had said or done?  Ignoring the wide eyes from her cousins at how quickly she departed from Ser Laenor, Celena had nearly reached Lewyn when a soft hand gripped her arm.  Turning, she saw, for the first time since they arrived, a nervous looking Carysee looked up at her.


"Celly, will you come with me?  Caylee is busy flirting with some Reach knight, and everyone else is busy and I could really use the company," the normally confident and jovial girl looked unsured, which caused great surprised and attention from Celena towards her.


"Of course Cary, what's wrong?"

Carysee motioned slightly over to the Hightowers, and whispered, "Bennar."  Celena looked over at the knight standing in the back, somehow looking smaller even as he stood at the same height if not taller than most of the others in the group.  The relatively young man had long hair that almost reaches his shoulder, and seemed to avoid eye contact with anyone else in the room while also looking for someone.  Seeing that Tiber walking over in the same direction as well, Celena gently led Carysee over to walk with her older brother, until they reached closer to the Hightower group.  Standing in the front, Lord Gerold and his wife moved to greet Tiber, while behind him, Anthor and Laurel stood.  The men had on fineries suited for court, though Humfrey and Bennar's outfits were more militaristic and showed off their figure, while Alix donned a more loose, simplistic and practical outfit.

"Lord Hightower!  We are delighted to have you here.  Welcome to our little family dinner!"  The two lords greeted each other enthusiastically.


"Little?  Lord Lannister if you start calling the Rock a 'little' castle as well, I'll likely have to report you to your septa for lying in public!"  Celena watched as Tiber turned to Anthor, who looked bored standing with his wife, Laurel, on his arm.


"We're very glad to see you and yours Anthor.  I hope the journey here wasn't too tiring?"
 


Anthor gave a small smile.  "Thirst building more like.  You still have that Barrel of Butterwell's Finest?  I still can't believe you got your hands on one of those."  Tiber chuckled as he reached for and kissed Laurel's hand.


"Well, the wine cellars at the Rock are quite deep, and I'm glad to have been of service.  I'll have my men look, but if not, perhaps a bottle from the Jade Sea?  They are quite fine if I say so myself, with no disrespect to my dear Redwynes of course."  Anthor had already waved his hand and picked up the nearest pitcher.


"So long as you bring them quick, it could be the piss water from New Ghis for all I care."  With that, he began jugging the entire pitcher on, even as his mother shot him a disapproving look, which he didn't receive due to his jugging.


Just then Celena found herself face to face with Alix Hightower, who held out his hand with a friendly smile.  She returned it while placing her own into his, and the charming man lifted it to his lips.  Next to them, it was unclear who looked more nervous and uncomfortable, Carysee or Bennar.  "My, my, Lady Celena Lannister.  Your beauty grows each time I see you.  You might very well start a war if you keep it up at this rate."  Ignoring the slightly reddening of her cheeks, Celena gave a quick curtsy.


"Your words are too kind Ser Alix.  I am but another lady within the Lannister House, and my cousins are just as beautiful as me, if not more so.  As you can see for yourself," she said as she gave a little side step ushering Carysee forward.  The girl seemed to want to look at Bennar and not at the same time, while the same could been said of Bennar.  Reveling in his little brother's embarrassment and discomfort, Alix pushed him forward to Carysee.


"None of this 'Ser' business.  Bennar here and Humfrey are the knights.  I'm but a lowly ranger my dear.  However, I find myself hardpressed to argue with you on that point, especially with the lovely Carysee standing right here.  Isn't that right Bennar?  Doesn't she look lovely?" Alix grinned at his brother, who blushed and nodded slightly, even as Carysee turned red in return.  Alix however, pressed his assault, "well, don't be rude little brother, say hello to them, take her hand and everything.  Wouldn't want to leave a bad impression with the Lannisters of Casterly Rock now would we?"  At that, somehow Bennar paled and reddened at the same time, and looking as though he has much trouble, lifted his hand for Carysee, who looked as though she was about to faint as she stretched her own hand out unto his.  Instead of mustering up courage to kiss it though, he merely gave it a limp shake, before dropping it, leaving both the young man and woman uncomfortable and embarrassed.  All the while, Celena and Alix smiled knowingly at each other, as one out of the two of the people in front of them looked as if readied to jump out of the nearest window for escape, while the other looked faint on her feet.


@TheFordee14


@TheTraveller (Tagging you anyways even if your wife character isn't done yet, you can just insert her in here whatever)


@Hypnos


@Akio


To everyone else I think is in the room:


@ailurophile


@Ms MistyEye


@SuperSpice


@ArisenMoon
 

Ser Albert Lannister


Lord Commander of the Kingsguard


White Sword Tower, King's Landing, the Crownlands






Although the Small Council meeting was long done and the night was getting deeper, there was still much for Albert to do. He had sentries posted outside Prince Aegor's chambers, to ensure the prince's safety while he was gone.


It wasn't unlike his lord cousin to throw banquets and dinners like this. There came a certain advantage to wealth and influence. Ser Albert was in the midst of changing for the occasion. He opted to wear more formal clothing, rather than the white cloak and armor that he would always don. This was, after all, a simple family affair. He was going as a Lannister, not the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. A red tunic, lined with yellow. Something he owned from his time in Lannisport, and kept for these kinds of occasions. Just as he was finishing up on his preparations, his attention was redirected to the small missive he received earlier. Ser Albert paused for a while before picking it up and hiding it in his pocket. This banquet presented the perfect opportunity to deliver this message.


Ser Wilhelm Lannister and


Lady Miranda Lannister nee Payne


Red Keep, King's Landing, the Crownlands






Wilhelm was half-distracted as his eyes were on his children, watching as they ate. A rare instance of him smiling, as he observed his two precious cubs. And while he tried to listen to the other grown ups in the room, he wanted to avoid interrupting, and so he remained quiet. It didn't take long before his father called for his attention.


Wilhelm prepared to stand up. Not before looking into his wife's eyes. No words were needed. With just a few nods, they understood one another. The Lannisport heir and his wife both stood up, and made their way to the elderly couple, holding each other's hand the whole way.


The couple paused as they closed in on Lord Edwyn. "Forgive me, father. I had every intention to do so. I just... didn't want to interrupt anything." he replied to his father's earlier words before giving a nod and carrying on.


Wilhelm and Miranda waited for Lord Tiber and his wife to be finished with their greetings before butting into the conversation. As soon as Tiber went away to see if it was the Hightowers who arrived, Wilhelm and Miranda courteously went closer to the Lord and Lady of Fair Isle.


"Aunt Cassandra, Uncle Roland, forgive me. It's a pleasure to see you both again." he said as he gave a quick bow of respect to the two of them. While his words were sincere, it was difficult for someone of his disposition to put on a genuine smile. That fact, most-probably well-known within the family. Still, he tried as not to appear rude.


After a brief pause, he immediately gestured to the woman he brought alongside him. "And this is my wife, Miranda, daughter of Lord Orwell Payne."


Miranda immediately curtsied. "It is an honor to meet the two of you, Lord and Lady Wilds." she spoke softly as she gave a warm smile, effortlessly, a stark contrast to her husband's attempt.


Outside the Dinner Hall, Red Keep


 




Two men wearing Lannister armor stood guard outside the doors. They were there to avoid letting in anyone uninvited. It was dark outside, and the torches position just a few feet away from them did little to illuminate the premises. The night was growing darker after all.


From the shadows, the two men spotted someone approaching from the corridor.


"Halt! Who goes there?" one of them asked. This also drew the attention of the other guards who didn't notice anything. Other pairs of guards were also stationed short distances from the door. Some of the guards were stationed ahead, from where the figure came from.


The figure just drew nearer and nearer. From the shape of the figure, it looked like a man. As he was getting closer, more parts of him started to show in the light. Red formal wear, blonde hair, and a handsome face recognizable to mostly anyone within Westeros. The man many ladies in King's Landing have come to call 'Handsome Albert'.


"At ease, men." Albert replied calmly.


"S-Ser Albert." one of them stuttered. "We thought you weren't coming." the guard explained. They immediately lowered their guard and relaxed as soon as they recognized who it was, just as the other guards Albert passed by on his way.


"No worries. I thought my duties were going to keep me long enough from attending. May I go inside now?" he said as he smiled.


"Certainly, my lord." the other guard nervously replied. With that, the pair opened the doors for Ser Albert.


He got a look of the whole occasion as the doors opened. It was much brighter inside. He almost forgot how large his family was. There was a hint of nostalgia slowly creeping up on him. He took a deep breath before he continued on inside.


He paused for another while, with his eyes scanning the large hall. It was certainly like his lord cousin to host a lavish dinner like this one. He was searching the room for specific people, seeing if they were around. In one corner, he found the table were all the children were gathered.


In another area, he could see other guests gathered. Surprisingly, even members of the Targaryen family were present along with some of his brothers from the order that were tasked to guard them.


He looked to another spot and found a few notable people gathered. If Albert wasn't mistaken, those people would be the Lord and Lady of Fair Isle. It was his Uncle Roland and Aunt Cassandra, who were seemingly with his father Edwyn, brother Wilhelm, sister-in-law Miranda, and Tiber's own wife, Leanne. This was such a gathering if they were able to drag Wilhelm into this. The thought of his brother in social gatherings was enough to make Albert smirk.


Before anything else, Albert needed to see his lord cousin, Tiber. It was only natural to show your respect to the host first. He didn't have to look any further as there was a group in front of him, and mixed within them was his cousin Tiber. He looked at the others and recognized the elder one to be Lord Gerold Hightower. From there, it was then easy to guess who the rest were. They were most likely his family. He took a quick glance and noticed that Celena and Carysee were also with them.


"Ah, cousin!" he called out. "It's been a long time!" he said as he approached the group.


@WanderingJester


@Leusis


@JustJazzy


@TheTraveller
 
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Aegon


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aegon felt himself tapping his fingers against the table, looking for Vaella as if waiting for her to return but she was still not coming back. He wanted to chase her, to accuse her, after all she said to ease him she had lied to his face and her being gone now proved it. Vaegon had taken her away and made his growl with increasing anger. She had abandoned him for Vaegon. He tabbed his fingers against the table, his anger reaching his peak as he felt rage bubbling up inside him. Vaegon came, stealing her from him. His hand was shaking with pent up rage and he decided in his mind in that moment, that Vaegon would die.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]As he continued to wallow in anger and self pity, wondering if he should sent his servant or Gawin after her to see what they were doing and to catch them in the act when the door opened again. He turned, wondering who was entering the room when he realized with a bit of surprise it was Vaellla. He stared for a bit as she entered, almost surprised that she decided to come back as her eyes found him and walked over something, cradling something in her arms which he swiftly realized was his lute, making his eyes widen slightly. “Your back..” He said, his voice soft.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"I passed by the person who was carrying this and I thought I might as well bring it for you myself, as I was on my way back anyway," She explained, holding it out to him carefully. There was a smile on her face but she still seemed a little cautious. Still afraid that he was frustrated with her, perhaps. The way she saw it, the lute was like an olive branch, a gesture to show him that she was sorry for leaving and that she wanted to make peace again. Though she hadn't really done anything terribly wrong the guilt had crept in fairly quickly and so she was back to make the guilt and unease subside and cheer Aegon up. It was, after all, not long until his wedding and putting him in bad spirits would be cruel.[/SIZE]



[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aegon looked up at her, seemingly blank as if he had no emotion before breaking into a smile as he reached up and took the lute, holding it in his hands. It was a beautiful and well crafted thing, the image of a dragon running down the bow. “Thank you for my lute, I was waiting for it. And thank you for remembering.” He said standing, no trace of his previous anger on his face.[/SIZE]
 

-


Lord Austen Redwyne


( PAST )


 


"Thank you, my friend."


Austen said, as Axell Tyrell placed a hand on his back. Thank you as well, father. Your death has led to almost too much sympathy. Austen listened, intently, as Axell and Victarion spoke. Victarion talked about how his house was always one of... controversy. 


[SIZE= 12px]However, when Victarion Greyjoy brought up a trading agreement between his home and Austen's, he couldn't help but grin. "Your offer intrigues me greatly, my lord."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]It did.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]An alliance with House Greyjoy? A family that has, on multiple occasions, ravaged The Reach. The sane man inside me would turn away such an offer. What would the other lordlings of Westeros think if I were to become 'friends' with a bunch of glorified pirates? But, alas, I never claimed to be entirely sane.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"I am definitely into discussing terms with you, Victarion." Austen began, "But I am afraid we'll have to do it on some other occasion as I must be getting back to my sweetest sister." Austen smiled, brightly. He hugged Axell. "We will definitely talk again, my friend." He turned to The Greyjoy, who almost towered him height. He put out his hand.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"As will we, my lord."[/SIZE]


 





 



-


-


-


Ave Redwyne


Ave Redwyne felt a rising annoyance inside her. Yet again, he just... passes by me. Is my face not well made? Is my hair not done up? Are my breasts not almost falling from my dress? Ave didn't know what to do. She had never in her in life been ignored so harshly. Especially by a man. A young handsome man. Prince Lewyn Martell walked away. I bet I look like a proper fool. Ave looked to her left to see Celena Lannister, as beautiful as ever. And with her was a man. 


[SIZE= 12px]"Oh, good Gods." Ave rolled her eyes. Thankfully, no one heard her. [/SIZE][SIZE= 12px]A Prince Of Dorne was in-love with a little lady who was in-love with someone else. Is this real life, or am I in some sickening cliche-ridden bedtime story? I just want to fuck and have a good time. But, no. The man I pick has to be caught up in some disgusting one-sided romance with... with her.[/SIZE][SIZE= 12px] Ave couldn't stop looking at her. Celena Lannister. I bet that man with her isn't the only one she has. I bet there are thousands of love sick men fawning over their fair haired 'beauty'.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Ave closed her eyes.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]The thought itself even makes me ill.[/SIZE]


 


[SIZE= 12px]"Are you coming with me?" A merry Austen asked her as he downed another cup o' wine. Ave sat by his side. She had spent quite some amount of time standing where Lewyn had left her, cringing about Celena Lannister. The bitch. The blond bitch. The cow. She isn't a lion. She is a cow. A fat cow. A trolloping little fat cow. Bitch![/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Ave?"[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"What?" Ave snapped.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Are you retiring with your darling brother, or are you going to stay here and get painfully rejected once again by brown-skinned princes?" Austen asked. Ave felt like slapping him. And Celena Lannister. But, she couldn't make such a scene. A part of her would've loved to, but- she couldn't. For the sake of herself, and her brother.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]She inhaled.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"I think I will stay here and have some more of this dessert pudding, brother. It truly is delicious. Very milky. I bet the dairies at Casterly Rock are quite large."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Austen nodded. "Alright. I will see you-" He stumbled whilst getting up.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Do you want me to escort you back to our quarters?" Ave asked as she place a hand on her wrist. Austen shook his head, frantically. "No. Thank you, sister. I am... I am fine. Just a little bit lightheaded. "[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Are you sure?" Ave asked, again.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Ugh. I do hope he is fine, I really do not want to leave my seat and escort him all the way back to our quarters in the backside of this palace.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"I am fine. I bid you g-goodnight."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]He cautiously wobbled away from her and their half-empty table.[/SIZE]


 


[SIZE= 12px]Ave looked across the room. Prince Lewyn was at a table, drowning himself in drink. "Maybe this is my chance?" She whispered. A drunk fuck is still a fuck. She rolled her eyes, again. I'll wait a little longer. If he gets too drunk, I will swoop in. 'Oh, my lord. Are you alright? Blah, blah, blah.'[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]She filled herself a cup.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Is this wine, or ale? Oh. By Celena Lannister's flat chest. I do not give a damn.[/SIZE]


 


@Akio




 




-


-


-


Lord Austen Redwyne


( PRESENT )


"My lord!"


He sang, cheerfully. The Arbor Red, Austen hated so much, had gone almost completely to his head. Lord Thane Massey nodded, in response. And Austen continued, merrily, down a long corridor- lit only by faint candlelight. "I have to find my room." He said to himself. He swung around a corner, which led to another corridor, and stopped. Every blasted corridor in this fucking castle looks identical to the last. He found a small window ledge and sat himself upon'st it. He couldn't see anything out of the window itself. It was as black as the night. He hummed to himself. The same lil' song he had been singing earlier before he had seen Lord Massey. What was it? He thought to himself. The song had been played at the feast, yet he couldn't remember which song it was.


"The Rains..." He began,


"No."


He thought, harder. "Fair Maids Of Su-" He blinked. "No." He laid his head against the window and thought about how 'hilarious' it would be if he happened to fall asleep on this ledge in which he was sitting on. He blinked, again. He yawned. Maybe I should. His eyes closed tightly. "I'm so... so..."


They opened.


"The Lusty Lad!" He said, loudly. "That is it. It was The Lusty Lad. Of course."


He found himself smiling.


Gods, I should stop drinking from this day and on.


"Cousin?" A voice rang in his right ear. By his right, was Ser Garth Redwyne. Austen jumped up off of the windowsill and wrapped his arms around his cousin. "Garth!" Was the only thing that came out of Austen Redwyne's lips. When their hug had ended, Austen smiled widely at his cousin. "I was wondering when I was going to bump into you, cousin."


"So was I." Garth began,


"I am guessing you have been living lushly with The Lannisters?"


Austen nodded, frantically. "Yes!" He said, "Ave and I- both. But, I'm afraid I had a little bit too much to drink. So I decided to, em, retire for the evening."


Ser Garth smiled through his thick beard. He didn't even have a beard last time we saw each other. "I might go to this feast and say hello to your sister." Austen looked at him, "She will be happy to see you. As am I." Austen never liked his cousin. Even though Austen was heir growing up- Garth always seemed to outdo him in almost everything. "Garth, before you go to this feast..."


Garth looked at him, confused.


"Do you mind helping me get to my quarters. I am drunk. I am very, very drunk."


He laughed. And Austen laughed, in response. "Sure, cousin. This way." Ser Garth put his hand on Austen's shoulder and then led him through the identical, winding corridors.


 


"Thank you, again." Austen said, closing his door. Ser Garth had helped him get to his room, and was now on his way to House Lannister's affair. Ave has always seemed to like him, however. Austen slowly stumbled across the room 'till he had reached his bed. It was large, and red- with a canopy made out of wine-coloured silk. He sat on the end and pulled off his boots. They were caked in...


Gods know what.


He continued removing his clothing until he was fully nude. There was a knock on his door, just then. 


"Who is it?" Austen called.


[SIZE= 12px]There was a small silence for a moment, or three, until a low voice called back. "It's... uh, me. From the gardens earlier." The voice said. A smile came through on Austen's lips. He stood up. And when he did, he caught his own reflection in a vanity parallel to his bed. My cousin may be better at a lot of things. But, he could never ever beat me when it came to physical attributes.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Never. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Come in." Austen replied, as he relished in his mirror image.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]The door opened, slightly. And a figure came in. They were a bit shorter than Austen, and had hair like straw. "You asked me to come by at this time." The figure said. Austen nodded. "Close it."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Close what?"[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"The door." Austen said.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Oh."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]The door shut. And the figure stood by it, unsure. "What would you like to do?" He asked. Austen turned around to face the young man. He approached him, until he was right up against him. Austen grabbed him by the throat, roughly.[/SIZE]


"We'll start with a little bit of everything." Austen whispered, softly.



 




-


-


-


Lady Laurel Hightower


( PAST )


[SIZE= 12px]She hadn't been in King's Landing in several years, or so. [/SIZE][SIZE= 12px]It still looks magnificent in all of its red glory. [/SIZE][SIZE= 12px]"What a shithole." Laurel looked to her right to see Ser Kellan on his horse. "Apologies, m'lady." He said, sadly- as he saw her eyes were on him. Laurel giggled. "You do not need to apologise to me, ser. I am very used to your... humour." Ser Kellan smiled at her. He was a few years shy of fifty, and was already completely grey. He had a scar running down his left cheek, which he said he attained in a fight with a Lysean mercenary.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]They were on their horses, coming up the old road. Anthor offered Laurel a carriage to sit in, but she politely refused. It is always nice to get some air that doesn't smell exactly like the sea. She was mostly surrounded by House Hightower's party. As only a few residents of Greenstone had come with her to attend the royal wedding. Ser Kellan included. They had been riding for hours, and probably wouldn't stop again until they reached the capital city of The Seven Kingdoms.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"I know. But, I should be more- er- gentleman like in front of you, m'lady." Kellan apologised, once more. Laurel smiled at him. "Really, it is no bother." Kellan nodded at her reply. "Your father himself always said I had the mouth of a sailor. A Greyjoy sailor, in particular, he said."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Ser Kellan, like Lord Hightower, was a very good friend to Laurel's father.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Trust me, ser. I know." Laurel said, with another giggle.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Ser Kellan smiled,[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"How is married life treating you, m'lady? I would've asked when you were, well... you know... married. But, I found it very hard to get some time to write in Volantis." He spoke. His horse neighed. "It is fine, ser." Laurel began, "Marriage has been well. Anthor is good to me, he always has been. We've known each other for so long that it doesn't really feel like marriage."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"I see." Ser Kellan's smile had disappeared.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Did I say something wrong, ser?" Laurel asked, shyly.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"No. I just-"[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]He stopped his horse.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Laurel stopped hers in response. They both trot off of the road, so as to let their party go by. "Please forgive me m'lady, but I have to say something." Ser Kellan began, "You are your father's daughter. You are strong, and clever. You've been doing well ruling Greenstone, and I know you will continue to do as well in the years to come. But-"[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Anthor galloped by, on a horse himself.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Ser Kellan looked away. "I am afraid."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Laurel raised an eyebrow. "Afraid? Of what, Kellan?"[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"I am afraid that you will lose yourself. That you will be Anthor's, and not yourself. That you will slowly and surely let the power you hold on Greenstone slip from your fingertips and into the those of... someone like him. Someone who a House that is always looking to become ever.... greater."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"I will not. Ser. You have my word." Laurel said, sternly. She was a little peeved that Ser Kellan would say something like this- at a time like this![/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"And I trust your word, m'lady..." He mumbled,[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Come. Let us continue onward."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Ser Kellan hit his reins and galloped away on his steed. A steed so grey that it matched him. Laurel was left there, by the roadside. Wondering. I won't become his fully, right? I will always be my own woman. And I am not letting any Hightower take anything from me... I... I'm-[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]She slowly shook her head and sighed.[/SIZE]




 




-


-


-


Lady Laurel Hightower


( PRESENT )


Lord Tiber Lannister placed a kiss upon her hand. She smiled as he did so. But, it was 'itching' at her. You and yours. "The journey was very tiring, my lord and lady." Laurel began, "But, some of us are too parched to even think about sleeping right now. Aren't we, husband?" Laurel giggled.


You and yours.


"Your dress is exquisite, Lady Celena. I am simply overwhelmed with jealousy." Laurel said, smiling. Her smile was genuine, but there was a small hint of sadness behind it. Her mind had been, surprisingly, plagued by what the old knight had said to her by the roadside. She hadn't seen him since. He is most likely off in an inn, somewhere.


She looked at Anthor as he juggled a pitcher of wine.


She smiled even wider as he did so. He has always been like a brother to me and my sisters. I love him so, but... not like a wife should love her husband. She gulped. It still bothered her. The words of Lord Lannister. You and yours. Harmless words he spoke in greeting. Yet they have affected me greatly.


She stood an' watched her husband.


Her smile still big and beautiful. It was all she could do, in this moment.


 



 
 
[FONT= 'Courier New']Vaella Targaryen[/FONT]


divider4-dark.png



[SIZE= 11px]For a moment his face remained blank, and Vaella wondered if perhaps he was still annoyed at her. Then, as he stood, his face broke into a smile and she felt herself relax; instinctively she stepped forwards and raised herself onto her tiptoes to wrap her slender arms around him, drawing him into a hug.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]"You aren't angry with me, are you?" The hug lasted mere moments, just enough for her to whisper the words to him before he was released. Her hand lingered on his shoulder for a moment as her eyes scanned his face, trying to detect how he felt, then she moved the hand to tuck a strand of fair hair behind her ear instead. While waiting for a reply she took the opportunity to turn and look over her shoulder, praying that Vaegon had followed her-- she had barely waited for his response before tearing off down the corridor to return to the dinner, and she was hopeful that he wouldn't be upset. Vaegon was a reasonable man, likely not as sensitive as Aegon, surely he would be alright. Was it too much to ask to keep them both happy that evening, she wondered? [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 11px]Had it [/SIZE][SIZE= 11px]not been the eve of his wedding, perhaps she would have gotten frustrated with Aegon. If Vaegon's arrival hadn't put her in particularly good spirits, she might have scolded him for being so childish-- was that justified? Was he acting childishly, or was she just oblivious to the way she herself was acting? It was confusing, and made her head hurt, so she simply cast the thoughts from her mind and focused on Aegon himself, still waiting for an answer[/SIZE][SIZE= 11px].[/SIZE]


@Akio


@SuperSpice (mentioned)
 
Nymeria


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Elsewhere in the castle Nymeria stretched gingerly, arching her back almost like a cat, a small smile on her face as she made careful not to pull on her shoulder which was still heavily bruised. After taking a taste of Lady bolton it had put her in a carefree mood. Sitting up in her bed before kicking off it to stand and grab a long and heavy robe, not even bothering to throw on her small clothes at the moment as she wrapped the long robe around her. She left her bed behind as she walked to the door of her room as she stepped out of the room almost skipping, looking around the hallways of the Red Keep on the short walk to her handmaidens room, admiring the more solid architecture of the Red Keep in comparison to the Sand Ship, which was made from the sand stone of the red mountain. [/SIZE]



[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]She turned to the right, she had told her handmaidens to leave the room when they got down to business, not knowing how the exciting northern girl would take to an audience and naturally she had them all get rooms next to each other as she needed to be close to her friends and protectors. She knocked on the door and quickly stepped in after a moment or two of waiting to see what they were doing. “Good morning darlings.” She said, a bright smile gracing her face as she entered the room, speaking loud enough they could hear anywhere in the room. “I just had a lovely night, what have I missed?” She asked with a smile, her bright eyes curious as she scanned the room. She tried to keep alert even when she was busy and at times like these her maidens were her eyes and ears for the happenings around the castle, even if the Red Keep was quite different than the Sand ship.[/SIZE]
 

The High Septon


The Great Sept of Baelor, King's Landing






“The Father’s face is stern and strong,


he sits and judges right from wrong.


He weighs our lives, the short and long,


And loves the little children.”


Atop the peak of Visenya’s Hill, the Great Sept of Baelor the Blessed stood eerily silent, its vast halls empty, but for the quiet scurrying of Septons and Septa’s: getting about their nightly activities before the last candles burnt out and the final slither of light that could still be seen emanating through the ornate stained glass windows began to descend below the horizon. It was commonplace to find the Sept like this in the darker hours of the night, and with the heavy influx of visitors into the city to celebrate the matrimony of Prince Aegon Targaryen and Lady Isla Baratheon, it was not hard to understand why the the city’s nobility concerned themselves more with finding suitable accommodation than paying their due diligence to the higher powers that had brought them into this realm. It was of little concern however, the seven were as forgiving as they as were merciful, and they had a great tolerance for their children, something to be thankful for. The sins displayed by Westeros’ upper class aristocrats were enough to justify an end to their retched system, though the father as ever, showed his steady hand.


“That’s enough for tonight. Preparations can continue upon the morrow. Bless you children” A gruff voice, some calm words. Like the sound of hammer on anvil the silence was broken, a gnarled and ancient hand gesturing for the various clergy to return to their homes and hearths, to rest up for the various sermons which would need to be conducted when the sun rose once more. The faith was an old establishment, dating back further than even the city of King’s Landing itself, and it had gone through numerous changes over the years, though the one thing that had alway remained persistent was the hard work and determination of its supporters, another thing for which to be thankful. Without the patronage of the commons the establishment would have long ago fallen to disrepair but it was their continued service that kept things smoothly operating. A metaphor perhaps for the realm in its entirety, for without the strong arms and nimble legs of the people, the bottomless stomach that was the nobility would never have its fill.


A smile upon lips concealed by shadow. The sound of soft footfall against the hard stone floor. The flickering light of a candle once again relight. An old hunched figure. The High Septon.


Benedict Bracken (though he had given both names up long before the present) did not consider himself a malicious man, nor one to so easily hold grudges. He found fault in almost everything, though despite an outwardly cold demeanor he would rarely share his grievances with anyone. Anyone other than the gods. Prayer was the only way to ensure change within the realm, and prayer was the only way to give a voice to everyone, noble or common alike. Prayer appealed to no priest, no lord, no prince, no king, no one with a worldly sense of bias or preconceived notions about who was and was not worthy of time. Prayer was a raven directly to the gods and if a man couldn’t use prayer to air his sorrows, man would be lost.


“Father, in this time of need I pray you look out for all the pious.” Without anyone around to pass judgement whispers could turn into speech, and speech into prayer. “I pray you watch over your children whether they be near, or far, whether they be holy, or whether they have strayed from your light. I pray you bring light for those in darkness, warmth for those without it and justice for the wronged, and...” The Septon cleared his throat, “I pray that you forgive me, for I have committed the most grievous sin of all. I will do so again. I do not expect to accepted into your halls, nor do I expect your love I only hope that when the stranger takes me into his cold embrace you understand that all I did, I did in the name of the seven.” As always there was no answer just silence, refilling the room after the dark and somewhat melodramatic confessional. The Septon smiled, all was as it should be.



He made his way back to the high backed chair that served as a seat, or throne for the High Septon’s of old, resting his head softly against it. His gnarled hands reaching for the arm rests. There would be more time for prayer upon the morrow. Now was time to rest.
 
Tiber Lannister


Red Keep, King's Landing, The Crownlands.


As Lord Tiber Lannister walked to his quarters, he felt rather good, all things considering.


The dinner had been a success.  Distance relatives got to reconnect face to face, the children visiting their cousins, the royalty mingled with one of the more powerful families in the realm.  Now the Lord of Casterly Rock headed back to their room, his wife on his arms and a formidable cadre of lionguards escorting them.  They had put the two boys to sleep earlier, and now finally, they would have time to themselves.  Ser Tidus had gone to over check on security in various parts of the Lannister residency in the Castle, no doubt getting an earful from Lord Roland Wilds and Auntie Cassie while he was at it.  Martyn had gone to personally escort the other, more important members of the family himself, including the Lords and Ladies of Tarth and Lannisport, as well as the ladies to their room, including their sister.  The kids were the easiest to be honest; half were already asleep, the other half well on their way.  There had been some commotion in regards to some drunken attendees, but nothing the numerous security details couldn't handle.


Now, the Lion of Lannister opened the doors to their room and ushered his lovely wife in, before turning to the head Lionguard before saying, "lest the castle's burning down, or some emergency is happening, we are to be undisturbed.  The boys will have to learn to take care of themselves if they want anything.  If they insist on seeing us, send them to Auntie Cassie."  He grinned internally at the scolding Loreon and Gerald would get from his fiery aunt, before finishing.  "The journey to the Landing has been long, and my wife and I would like to rest for a bit.  Again, lest the King or Lord Hand requests us personally, we are to remain undisturbed."


The Lionguard saluted.  "As you will m'lord!"  With that Tiber closed the door gently before turning to his wife.  The room was sizable, as though someone took an office, a bedroom with a dressing area, and a bathroom and removed the walls between them.  A standing wooden veil separated the bathroom portion from the rest, and the large, king size bed had a large canopy over it, with red and gold drapes over the side, matching the sheets.  Over by the dressing area, several large wardrobes stood, along with an armor stand in the middle, displaying Tiber's personal gear.  A weapon's rack stood between the bedroom and the dressing area, near the entrance, while a large table with various writing utensils and parchment laid upon it, making it look quite a mess.  Behind it, Tiber's favor jacket rested on the back of the chair.  House Lannister paraphernalia draped the walls, from flags to shields to the crimson and gold drapes over the windows.  The bathroom contained a large bathtub, one that could at least three large figures in it, and emptied of contains at the moment.  Clearly, no expenses had been spared for maximum comfort, though though close to Tiber would know that it would be unlikely that he ordered any of them, though would be all ten times over should his wife even hint at liking one of them.


Slyly walking up behind her, the Head of House Lannister slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck, pressing his body against hers.  Some women's shape, after they've bared a few children, only seemed to resembled a pie or a barrel.  To the Warden of the West, if nothing else, Leanne got curvier, her natural endowment growing, which in turn of course increased his own enjoyment, even if it just meant soaking in her looks at meal time with his eyes.  He traced his kisses up to her jaw, stopping just after tickling her ears with his tongue.  "Well beautiful, I've had my eye on you all evening, and you look absolutely ravishing in that dress.  Of course, that makes me quite... ravenous."  With that, Tiber went back to kissing his wife, his hands now wandering away from her waist to start their ministration, even as they were still fully clothed.


@JustJazzy
 
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Aenar Velaryon


The Hand’s Quarters, King’s Landing


It would be another restless night for the Hand of the King, the long and arduous hours that succeeded the Small Council meeting offering nothing in the way of rest but an opportunity to tirelessly pace the small confines of his office, occasionally allowing him to slip into a brief and unfulfilling slumber that would often leave him more tired than he had felt previously. All things considered it was not a good sign. Aenar Velaryon was an old man, shrewd and wary of the troubles of this realm and as such he was no stranger to sleepless nights, sometimes going days with only a few hours of rest, however this time felt different. No longer was there a higher power for whom he could play second fiddle, and no longer could he reside in the shadows as the beloved King Maegor laughed, japed, and generally appeased the lords and their small folk. Today the weight of seven kingdoms rested upon his shoulders and his shoulders alone: Maegor would not be attending the celebrations; no amount of herbal remedies or milk of the poppy could change that and Aenar had been assured by the Grand Maester that though it would be possible for the king to make an appearance, it would be as but a shell of his former self, something the Hand was very adamantly against. Maegor would be remembered as a diplomat and a hero, there was no use soiling that image now by presenting a man who could barely remember the names of his own siblings let alone the lords that served him.


Aenar sighed, slipping out of the cerulean doublet and silver cloak that made up yesterday’s attire and instead donning something more appropriate for the man who was playing host to half of the realm. “A sturdy helmet can hide whatever ugliness resides beneath” his father had always taught him, for Baelon Velaryon could never be found naked of his armour, of course he had drowned in it but the sentiment remained the same “dress to impress.”


It was to be a long week of merrymaking, celebrating the union of the youngest son of King Maegor Targaryen and the cousin to Lady Ivanna Baratheon. Some might have claimed that the whole thing was a waste of crown time, a farce merely serving to soil crown resources on what amounted to a mere spectacle. What they didn’t seem to grasp was: that was the point. The Kingdoms had gone almost a year with no king and no matter how well he was able to hide the king’s true state there were still bound to be rumours. Maegor’s influence was fading and this wedding served as a reminder to those who would see it dissipate further who truly ran the Seven Kingdoms: a sign of wealth, a demonstration of influence, and a show of power.


It was fairly early when Aenar left to oversee the final preparation on what would serve as the grand opening for the wedding, a melee that would see some of the greatest warriors in the realm fight for honour, glory, and a generous amount of gold. It was to open in the early hours of the afternoon, and hopefully last up until the beginning of the evening where the organised ball would help facilitate some of the the plans that had been concocted in the small council meeting the previous night. He had it on good authority that a least a few of westeros’ best would be on show, including Martyn Lannister, his nephew and perhaps even his son, though the last remained to be seen. Aenar had a rocky relationship with his immediate family, somewhat ironic considering how well he got along with his more distant relatives: his son had run off to the Stepstones almost the instant that he became a man, and his wife had kept his daughter far away from his clutches, the only one whom he could truly consider a friend was his brother and his death severed one of the last ties with his family. Perhaps that was one of the reasons Aenar had so much apprehension about the wedding, the prospect of seeing his family once more both excited and mildly frightened him, though he knew that it was likely just going to be the same cold and kurt meeting that he had seen so many times in the past.


Snapping himself back into reality long enough to climb the wooden stairs up to the royal box, Aenar couldn’t help but admire the work that had gone into the construction of the royal tourney ground, the work of thousands of craftsmen laid out before him. It was seven sided in honour of the gods, with a great box decorating every corner, put aside for the great houses of the realm. Of course this meant that they were two boxes short, though to rectify this the Houses of Greyjoy and Martell had been invited into the King’s own box to enjoy their viewing alongside the royal family. Aside from the greater families there was plenty of space for all others who would be in attendance with not only stands for the realm’s lesser nobility but also an area for the peasantry to stand and admire the skill of the combatants.



Aenar sat himself upon his own seat, well aware that preparations would not be finished for at least a few hours. He would enjoy the rest while he was able to get it and in the meantime could prepare  for the ensuing crowds that would surely be arriving in a short time.
 

Roland Wilds


Red Keep, Kings Landing, Crownlands


 


Grumbling to himself as he walked, Roland scooted down the hallway, his feet heavy from a long day and even more ale. Drunkenness was not something he had felt often or in large doses, and tonight was no different, the only difference however, was his age, and the ailments that came along with it. Plagued by his joints and his lacking balance at the moment Roland leaned against the stone wall to his left for a moment as he held his wifes hand with his right. "Sorry my dear, not as spry as I used to be" he said with a hint of shame hidden behind a warm smile and a hardy laugh. Cassandra, the only person besides his children and grandchildren who gave him any pleasure in his life, much younger in years and forced to watch a great man wither away in a time of peace, it nearly brought a frown to his lips. Weakness however was not something that Roland showed or accepted easily, and with a quiet grunt and a shove of his hand he carried on down the hallway, standing as tall as he might.


Proceeding to their chambers Roland swiftly opened the door, holding it open for his wife to enter first. Following after her Roland would shut the door and begin removing his clothes, revealing a seemingly youthful frame with tightened and toned muscles with hardly a shred of fat on his form. The only thing that betrayed such a perception would be the wrinkles and scars that crisscrossed along the whole of his torso and arms, trophies he had received from countless battles and back alley assassination attempts. By all rights he was a ruggedly handsome man despite his age, and seemed to be in much better shape than he truly was. Tired is what most would call it, a body that had taken too many beatings to continue despite how hard the mind pushes forward. To Roland, this was the mark of a man made of true steel, by all logic a man who should have been broken long ago but instead refuses such a fate and pushes forward for honor and duty.


"So, how many have earned your ire tonight?" Roland asked as he made his way to he and Cassandra's bed, setting himself down on its foot as he dressed himself in proper sleeping attire. "No doubt with how Tiber was eyeing his wife their children will be sent to us soon" Roland spoke with a slight irritation in his tone, not being very fond of the spoiled shits Tiber managed to shoot into Lady Lannisters womb.


(We can do the rest of the dinner through PMs with whoever it is that we need to meet, but for now things need to get moving in the main IC)


@TheTraveller
 

-


[SIZE= 18px]Aerea Targaryen[/SIZE]


Dreaming. Septa Aleys always said a 'dream is vision'. Dreaming. A vision... of a nearby time- my future. She would oft awaken in the early hours of the morning, due to these dreams. They always started the same way. There she was, standing in a room. A large room. It was almost empty but for a chair, at its end. A chair of iron. The Iron Throne. It wasn't hers. Not yet. It still belonged to her father, who grew ill-er by each eve. Soon, he would be dust. And The Iron Throne would be anyone's to claim. By right, it would go to Aegor... 


[SIZE= 12px]Her dream continued;[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]She, always, approached The Throne. First, she would always sprint. But, her spree of sprinting would never last long as she would always end up on the floor. Her hands bound with iron chains, much like that of a maester's. She would pull, and pull, and pull. Her wrists would wound. And blood will drop to the red-brick floor, drop by little drop. She was so close though. So close. She would almost always wake up at that moment in her dream. Her eyes would open, a flutter. Except for this past night, in particular. This night- she did not wake whilst in her chains. Her dream continued on,[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]A sign.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Her chains began burning. She screamed. Her hands reddened. They boiled and blistered. She screamed, again. Hands red. Red, like my hair. Then they broke. Her chains melted into blackened tar, and slid down her arms. As they did, they left black an' brown burns. She sobbed. Until, after what seemed like eons. She was free. She stood up, and her burns healed. The Throne was right in-front of her. An empty seat of cold. She walked- until she was right by it. She could feel its iron against her body. She could feel it within all of her veins. It was hers. It is mine.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Her hair tied itself into a ginger crown that sat, neatly, upon'st her head. And she did nothing but smile. Her goal had been achieved. She was a Queen. She was [/SIZE]The Queen[SIZE= 12px]. A hand appeared by her left, with no body attached to it. It settled on her shoulder. A bronzed ring on its middle finger. She felt at ease with it there, on her shoulder. Until its grip grew heavy. It squeezed on her shoulder, and when she tried to step off of the chair she had longed for. She could not. Her feet couldn't move. They were stuck in a pool of purple poison. And the poison slowly worked its way up her legs. Eroding her skin, 'til it was bone. The hand hardened its grip, once more. So much that it was now one with her shoulder. She screamed, again. But no one heard her. No one but the hand, and a dark figure that had been birthed from the black gel her chains had become. It grew tall and wide. It was all black, apart from its eyes. It had red eyes.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]And it roared.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]A dragon...[/SIZE]


 


[SIZE= 12px]Her eyes opened. She was nude, and entangled in her bedding sheets. Her husband was nowhere beside her. Thankfully. She sat up. That wasn't a dream. She thought to herself. It was a nightmare. She looked around her large room. It had been hers since her birth. And would probably be hers 'til the day she died. Sunlight, dimly, peered through the floral patterned drapes that decorated her room's windows. She shook her head. I will hang a handmaiden if they let me sleep-in.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]She slid out of her bed. Her body was cold. Her mind still occupied in thinking about her dream. She grabbed a silk robe from a lounge chair and wrapped it around her. She paced across the room to her vanity. A  tall golden mirror that had been installed only several years ago, after her previous mirror had somehow 'smashed' itself. She looked in it and frowned. Her red hair was a mess, riddled with curls an' knots. She grabbed the silver comb by her mirror and placed it on her head before slamming it back down.[/SIZE]


I should not be the one combing my hair, no. That should be the job of a handmaiden. My handmaidens. Where are they!?


 


They arrived almost half an hour later. They came in, panicked. "Do you think she-" Lana stopped once she opened the door and saw Aerea sitting by her mirror. "Your grace, I- we are so sorry for being late." Lana said, politely. Behind her was Lora. Lana was always the one to make excuses. Lora rarely said a single word other than her formalities. Which must be why I dislike Shara just a lil' bit less. Aerea stood up, her robe loosened on her. "I do not care what you have to say." She began, "You were both late."


"I know, my princess, but we-"


"Late." Aerea snapped. "You two have been with me for... how long now?"


"Four years, your grace." Lora spoke.


"You've been with me through my maiden years, you've been with me through Lys, and you've been with me through my father's illness." Aerea said, "But if you continue this disgraceful punctuality- you will no longer be with me. In-fact, I will make sure you do not attend another lady for the rest of your pathetically little lives."


Lana's mouth opened,


"We understand-"


"I don't think you do, Lana." Aerea scoffed.


"I do, my princess."


Aerea raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying I am wrong in my assumption?"


Lana was silent. A surprise.


"What is your family name again, Lana?" Aerea asked, standing still.


"Um... Brune, your grace." She said, in reply.


"House Brune." Aerea sang, "A small house. A very small house. So small that I don't think anyone in The Seven Kingdoms would care if it ended up no longer being a 'house'." Lana's eyes watered, just a bit. "Do you want your house to fade?"


[SIZE= 12px]Lana shook her head.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Well then you will never be late again. Do you understand?" Aerea sat down by her vanity.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Lana didn't speak.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"I... will understand, my princess."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Aerea smiled. "Good."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Lora, run my bath. And you, Lana, you can brush my hair. It is in such a awful state this morning." Aerea looked at herself in the mirror. Her reflection was almost perfect, if not for her hair. "Yes, your grace." Lora spoke as she walked off. Lana carefully approached Aerea and picked up the silver brush. Aerea looked at Lana's reflection. She is frightened. Aerea couldn't help but smile and feel gracious. Today may be a pleasant day. Lana began combing, in silence.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]And Aerea still smiled. Her nightmare, now, by the back walls of her mind.[/SIZE]


 


 


 
 

 


 


 


5a8a5084ad02af5b9bd3991cb84b7b0e.gif



 


Miranda


Mistress of Whispers


 


 


The council meeting was finished quicker than Miranda assumed. She thought that it would take almost the whole day or so since the wedding is getting nearer and nearer. Flaws are not welcome so as making a simple or tiny mistakes. It was a royal wedding after all.  One flaw and the whole charade and illusion that the extravagant wedding is trying to hide  might come to light. Miranda was dead certain that the Hand will not like any mishaps for the credibility of the King is at stake. After task were assigned to everyone in the council, the meeting was dismissed.


 


*


[COLOR= rgb(0, 128, 0)]"Welcome back, my lady."[/COLOR] One of her girls, Greer, a blonde girl that is three years younger than her  greeted Miranda with a smile upon entering her establishment. All the doors of the rooms for customers and patrons are all closed and occupied. They've got a full house. As expected since as of the moment, the King's Landing is brimming with men who just wanted some fleeting love and available flesh that could be paid.


 


[COLOR= rgb(0, 128, 0)] "Oh. There's another package for you. It just arrived earlier ago."[/COLOR] She added as she followed Miranda who didn't bother on stopping. There was another crate, bigger than the previous one, sitting in the middle of her room as soon as she opened her door. A red butterfly was painted on the upper right corner of the it. [COLOR= rgb(0, 100, 0)]"This one is from Lys, my lady." [/COLOR]Greer added quietly. [COLOR= rgb(0, 128, 0)]"Henri delivered it himself," [/COLOR]the blonde girl said, bowing her head just to hide her furious blush.  


 


[COLOR= rgb(75, 0, 130)]"Silly girl."[/COLOR] Miranda smiled at her before crouching beside the crate. Greer has every right to blush though, the captain of the ship Miranda entrusted with her things is quite good looking for his age of thirty and five. Miranda met the good man when she stayed at Lys for a short while after the death of her husband.  And there is not a day that passed when he never ask her to be his wife. But the mistress of the whispers knew enough that good looking man who is more frequent in the sea than on land is not keen on having just one woman in their life.


 


Crouching down to unlock the crate and open it, the thing is filled with laces, gossamer silks and other things she asked for to be picked up along the way of his voyage. It was a special favor since the man owes her that much. Though the things inside the crate is valuable, Miranda's hand slipped quickly under the fabrics and search for something else. 


 


Upon retrieving her hand, she stood up and was now holding a folded piece of paper.  She ignored the crate entirely before sauntering towards the corner, only to fish out a candle from one of her drawers.  The paper contains a list of the things inside the crate including its price. Though it looks likes just spare bit of parchment with inventory, it holds something else entirely.  She lighted the candle and put the paper near the fire. She made sure that all the parts and corners were heated by the dancing flame. In no time, a lengthy scribble appeared behind the original texts. It was a news from one of her girls back at Lys. A smile flitted on Miranda's face as she sat down and read the whole thing while Greer was adoring the silks and fabrics on the crate.  


 


[COLOR= rgb(75, 0, 130)]"Bring that to the seamstress,"[/COLOR] Miranda said without looking up from the parchment that she was reading from, [COLOR= rgb(75, 0, 130)]"The other fabrics from the other room as well. We are going close early today. I want you all to be prepared for tomorrow."[/COLOR] She took a quill and a blank paper from her desk and started copying the list of the items. [COLOR= rgb(75, 0, 130)]"Oh, Greer..." [/COLOR]Miranda called out quietly as she busied herself.


 


[COLOR= rgb(0, 128, 0)]"Yes, my lady?" [/COLOR]Greer answered, standing up as she was about to leave the room.


 


[COLOR= rgb(75, 0, 130)]"Has Evelyn returned?" [/COLOR]the scratching of the quill can be heard upon the short silence before the other girl answered. [COLOR= rgb(0, 128, 0)]"Uh- no. She haven't." [/COLOR]Greer said, a little puzzled.


 


"[COLOR= rgb(75, 0, 130)]Hm. I guess she's not that fond of the Ashwoods as I thought." [/COLOR]Miranda said quietly under her breath.


 


[COLOR= rgb(0, 128, 0)]"I beg your pardon, my lady?" [/COLOR]Shaking her head for she didn't understood anything, Greer stepped forward, [COLOR= rgb(0, 128, 0)]"Is there anything that I can do in her behalf?" [/COLOR]


 


Miranda looked up, a small smile was on her face. [COLOR= rgb(75, 0, 130)]"Fetch Sebastian for me, will you?" [/COLOR]there was a glint in her eyes, from mischief or amusement, Greer was not certain. But if she wants Sebastian, a man Miranda often hires for things that needs to be handle delicately but also forcefully, something is definitely happening.  [COLOR= rgb(75, 0, 130)]"I think I might have found him a rare bird to hunt."[/COLOR]


 


With a curt nod, the girl left along with the crate while Miranda continued writing, the small smile in her lips and the fearful glint in her eyes was still on her face.


 


***


 


The next morning, the girl's in Miranda's fine establishment prepared themselves. Like always, all of them dressed to impress in honor of the lovely day. Prince Aegon, the man of the moment was the topic of the girls during their breakfast, they were debating whether or not he is good in bed and has a precious cargo worth keeping. Some agreed, while some didn't. Some believed that he only has a pretty face, perhaps a little too feminine. They believed that maybe there was a chance that he likes sausages and not breads. Others believed that the prince is hiding a dragon underneath his expensive clothes.  When Miranda arrived at the dining room, everyone went quiet, as if knowing that it wasn't a topic apt in the dining area. But a girl realized that they are in a brothel, and they use their body and skills to earn money and secrets that she risk Miranda's ire and ask what does she think of the Prince. Miranda looked at them, unamused for a moment, before a smile escaped her lips. She didn't confirm nor argue at what the girls believed in. Her thoughts remained on her own. There was an uproar. After Miranda hushing the girls, they continued their breakfast quietly with only silly smile and fleeting looks to exchange.
 
For a melee that would be talked about for ages, the day was more wet then Lewyn first thought it would be. A cold wind have come off Black Water Bay, bringing light rain and a cold chill that settled around Kingslanding, leaving it a somewhat damp feeling. However this had hardly set back the plans for the massive and grand melee. A cursory glance outside could see over the many stands covers had been set up to block the rain as much as possible and fires had been set up just outside the area of stands along with the hustle of the camp around it of armor workers, squires, and whores to try and ward off the cold winds as much as possible. As for the common folk they had very little protection but the crowd watching on the ground was no small group of children, men, and woman. An event this large happened usually only a few times in one of their life times, for those who usually never went more then a couple miles from their home what could be more exciting then to see warriors and lords celebrated in song. Their area was a constant bustle of excitement, voices, and gossip and they looked at the arriving lords and slowly filling field where knights aplenty stood, ready for the battle that was about to begin, drawing admiration and inspiration from the common crowd and even eyes from some of the nobles. Lewyn himself was still not the field, putting on his armor with the help of his squire that his father assigned him. A shy boy of 13 who was one of his nephews from house Fowler but seemed so shy around him he was likely to swallow his tongue rather then utter a word. Never the less he would suffice for the task of putting on armor and seemed to listen well. They were getting down to the final adjustments when there was sudden a knock on the door and without waiting for a response the door opened and his sister walked in, paying no heed to what he might be doing at the time.


"Almost ready big brother, most of knights are already on the field, i swear you take as long a noble lady freshening up to get ready for a battle." She teased, a wide perfect smile on her face as always. His sister had always been beautiful and she knew it, never hesitating to show it off and today was no different. Wearing a dress that hugged her frame, walking the thin line between revealing and noble and accenting her bodies natural curves in a way that drew the eye but revealed very little skin, leaving it almost completely to imagination but gave enough of an enticing view that Lewyn quickly realized his new squire was staring at her with eyes nearly bulging out of his skull. He sighed, looking at his sister with a little bit of exasperation. "You know usually when people knock they wait for a reply before just walking in." He admonished before looking at his squire. "You may go, ill finish the last of the preparations myself." He said, seeing as the boy was more focused on his sister then the job at the moment and they were already mostly done, he could finish the last parts himself. The boy looked up at him and seemed to be about to say something but the look he gave him sent him scampering off without a word, only throwing one last glance on his way out. 


Nymeria watched the boy leaving with amusement before turning back to her brother. "You know you should probably try to be nicer to your squires, that one seemed to think you would eat him." She said, stepping forward to approach him while Lewyn sighed, seeming exasperated as he fiddled with some of the straps on his armor to tighten them. "I understand grandfather is related to the Fowlers and was doing them a favor but I don't see why I need a squire. Marcus, or Redwyn could have helped me done my armor like before." Nymeria gave him a knowing look and walked over to where his helmet lay, running one finger over the grove where the metal joined at the top of it. "You may have been able to rely on them back in Essos but here you are a prince, even when grandfather is keeping the restrictions on your to a minimum he still must entertain the other lords, especially his family. Having you take a squire or two is likely what will be likely the least that's expected of you." She said, turning her pretty green eyes on him, smiling a bit when she could see he was a bit unwilling, not to her presence, but the idea of having a squire. "I'm not the best suited to teaching." He said, his voice unsure. "Even my own style is just a variation of me emulating someone else." It was first the story of Ser Auther Dayne that first wanted to make him learn to to be a knight. Unfortunately stories weren't the best instructors and duel sword styles were rare enough finding a teacher was difficult. His first teacher was a brovosi, short in stature but a very skilled sword master who taught him to be light on his feat and how to use the thin blades of a bravosi. He only stayed for a season or two before going back to Bravos leading to his next teacher, who admired his quick feet but doubled down on his ability to take blows and train using armor. He wasn't the only one trained by the knight but one day while traveling with his grandfather and the knight to tour the houses of Dorne he came to house Dayne where more then simple stories of the legendary swordmen but those who sought to replace him. There he met several people who knew those who met him and were willing to speak about Auther. As he learned about the man he began to truly want to emulate him and it was that day he asked his teacher if he could learn to use two swords, setting him done on the path he followed now. Even now his style emulated the stories of Auther he knew.


Nymeria looked at him a bit exasperated. "You've made the style your own, using two swords doesn't make you Auther Dayne, your the Warriors Hand and my brother, for now put your worries about squires out of your mind and go hit things, isn't that what you love in the melee?" She said with amusement. Lewyn rolled his eyes, reaching for a hard to reach strap to tighten it when Nymeria walked over and tightened it for him, reaching around him to tighten a few straps and help him straighten his armor, knowing the basics of putting on armor due to one of many lectures from her brother. "Besides Carysee I know is just waiting for you." she teased which caused Lewyn to freeze and any playfulness to leave his face, a somewhat twisted expression covering his face as Nymeria realized her mistake, She naturally knew that Lewyn had deep feelings for Celena and knew the situation with Carysee but now realized just how strongly he felt about it. "Sorry, I know how strongly you feel about it." She said a bit subdued. Lewyn glanced to the ground. "I should have refused, im just playing with her feelings like this." He said, his voice dejected. Nymeria put her hand under his chin, raising his chin to look at her. "Its just one favor, its not a proposal of marriage, put it out of your mind, you'll get your chance with Celena if you just tell her, your too shy to hide your feelings for this long because of the Velyron. Put it out of your mind, go do what you love to do, make her happy then give the favor back, nothing special. You know what to do big brother." She said with a smile, stepping back. "I will go to the kings box, I really want to meet the royal family, ill be cheering you on so try not to lose, you carry the honor of our house." She said making for the door with a smile where her maidens awaited. "Thanks little sister." Lewyn said, his voice chasing her from the room as he looked at the favor on the table and with a sigh grabbed it and tied it to his upper arm and left to go join the fighters in the field. 


(@Lancelot he can meet Dolton in the field so they can chat before everything starts
 
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