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

Before his brother could answer him, before he could hear the answer to the question he so desperately wanted to hear and yet didn't want to imagine, someone knocked on the door causing Cayden to swear inwardly. He wondered if it was another member of his family, or had possibly the Lord Lannister had agreed to his meeting. He got up to his feet, looking at his brother with his expression slightly conflicted. "Stay here a moment." He said before walking towards the door. If it was the Merry Lion at the door it was not a conversation he wanted to pull Daeron into, not for his lack of ability, but because of the private nature of the discussion. Even to his own family he did not want news of his loyalties across the sea, not until he knew where he stood and where his family stood. He could inform Elia as need be, he would not burden his family with his problems till things became certain.


He opened the door and was a little surprised to find the captain Tidus who had led him to the room before when he had been kicked out of the ball. "Lord Martell, Lord Tiber has agreed to meet you in the Hall of Hero's, if you would allow me to lead the way." The man seemed slightly relieved he was both here and answered promptly, with the size of this castle if he had left his room it would have been hard to find him. Cayden nodded almost subconsciously, his face serious as he knew this was likely the best opportunity he would get to make an impression on the Merry Lion. "I'll follow you then, and ask you to direct me to him." He said before glancing at his brother with an expression very different from his earlier joy, one he had perhaps only seen on his father and perhaps Elia when going to meet lords of power in Dorne, 'The Lords Face.' "You can either stay here or go back to your room Daeron, I may be awhile." He said before walking out, inclining his head to have Tidus lead on.


They both left, striding through the wide hallways of the Rock, really everything here was so massive and grandiose that the size of the castle seemed to eclipse almost everything. "This place could probably hold every one of those soldiers outside if a determined commander put their mind to it." He thought to himself as he strode through the castle, thinking about how he wanted to open negotiations with the Lion, he had been a mercenary for many years and while that certainly helped him negotiate contracts he doubted he would simply be able to 'buy' the Lord of Lions the same way. They eventually reached the Hall of Hero's and when he entered he had to admit he was impressed. Towering statues and tapestries displaying the history of this proud house, their claim to the glory, though it likely didn't display much of the loses. His gaze was soon torn off the tapestries however as he refocused on Tiber, the Merry Lion. He was not a particularly intimidating man at a glance or carried the sword of bearing of a leader or elite fighter. Never the less he didn't underestimate him, no one could forget the war of the Lion. "Who's the likeness?" Cayden called out as he got closer, he didn't shout, but his voice carried through the silent hall. He walked up next to Tiber, turning to face the statue as well, taking notice of the missing sword as he waited for the answer.


@WanderingJester
 

Tiber Lannister


Hall of Heroes, Casterly Rock, Westerlands.

​



Tiber Lannister heard the door open and close in the distance, and given the lack of shouts and fighting, determined it was the guest he had sent for before. As the footsteps closed he took a breath, and stared at the vacant eyes of the Last King of the Rock. When he heard the voice of the Martell, the Lord of Casterly Rock gave a shrug. "A man who took his enemies on too lightly." Turning to observe the Martell son, the Merry Lion gave him a polite smile. "I had heard there were some... unfortunate events that took place at the Great Hall. I hope that you've enjoyed yourself at the festival despite these incidents." Turning back to the statue, the Warden of the West spoke again, without the original critical edge he had when addressing it. "May I introduce Loren I Lannister, also known as Loren the Last. He was the last King of the Rock before Aegon I Targaryen burned the armies of the Reach and Westerlands at the Field of Fire and ended House Gardener." He begun pacing, walking down the Hall. "It was said that had Loren been more humble, and fought defensively, the Westerlands would've never fell to Aegon, as even dragonfire would not be able to penetrate the depths of Casterly Rock."


Arriving at a tapestry depicting the Field of Fire, Tiber gazed upon that next. "Perhaps that might have been the case, but we'll never know if that's what would've happened now. Either way, Loren did not consider the sheer power of his enemies's full capabilities, and that caused him a kingdom's sovereignty. Of course, if he had Dorne's persistence and spirit of independence, who knows? Maybe the Lions would also be considered Princes and Princesses today." Turning to Cayden once again, Tiber looked at him. "But you did not seek an audience with me for a history lesson, and I am glad I had the time to get to many of the people who seek my attention, including yourself. How may I be of assistance to you Prince Martell? Or did you simply seek my company for small talk away from the crowds of the feast and festivities?" Despite the long day, the Merry Lion didn't show a bit of fatigue, as he gave the Martell son his attention.


@Akio
 
WanderingJester said:

Tiber Lannister


Hall of Heroes, Casterly Rock, Westerlands.

​



Tiber Lannister heard the door open and close in the distance, and given the lack of shouts and fighting, determined it was the guest he had sent for before. As the footsteps closed he took a breath, and stared at the vacant eyes of the Last King of the Rock. When he heard the voice of the Martell, the Lord of Casterly Rock gave a shrug. "A man who took his enemies on too lightly." Turning to observe the Martell son, the Merry Lion gave him a polite smile. "I had heard there were some... unfortunate events that took place at the Great Hall. I hope that you've enjoyed yourself at the festival despite these incidents." Turning back to the statue, the Warden of the West spoke again, without the original critical edge he had when addressing it. "May I introduce Loren I Lannister, also known as Loren the Last. He was the last King of the Rock before Aegon I Targaryen burned the armies of the Reach and Westerlands at the Field of Fire and ended House Gardener." He begun pacing, walking down the Hall. "It was said that had Loren been more humble, and fought defensively, the Westerlands would've never fell to Aegon, as even dragonfire would not be able to penetrate the depths of Casterly Rock."


Arriving at a tapestry depicting the Field of Fire, Tiber gazed upon that next. "Perhaps that might have been the case, but we'll never know if that's what would've happened now. Either way, Loren did not consider the sheer power of his enemies's full capabilities, and that caused him a kingdom's sovereignty. Of course, if he had Dorne's persistence and spirit of independence, who knows? Maybe the Lions would also be considered Princes and Princesses today." Turning to Cayden once again, Tiber looked at him. "But you did not seek an audience with me for a history lesson, and I am glad I had the time to get to many of the people who seek my attention, including yourself. How may I be of assistance to you Prince Martell? Or did you simply seek my company for small talk away from the crowds of the feast and festivities?" Despite the long day, the Merry Lion didn't show a bit of fatigue, as he gave the Martell son his attention.


@Akio
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Cayden looked at the Merry lion, nothing less then perfect composer though he guessed that was the least he should have expected. "Perhaps, but Aegon changed the rules and broke countless centuries of war with not just dragons, but his will to unite seven into one instead of just talk about it. Harsh to his enemies yet offered forgiveness to those who knelt, strong willed but not so brittle so he would break, respected tradition but united the kingdoms to start the first rule of law. He was possibly the best man to unite the seven kingdoms, even if Lorren had understood his strength only the Rock would have been save and his people would have suffered and turned against him. Dorne resisted the Dragons, not the Martells. Without the widespread support we would have never resisted Aegon no matter how large our army or great our will, we are lucky that my people hold our house words as well as we do." He said offering his own peace on the matter. "Our greatest triumph, but also our great sorrow." He closed his eyes for a moment before looking at Tiber, his eyes luminescent blue. "I wish these were the times I could talk to you simply about history and small talk, I've been gone for some time but I still hear stories of the Lord of the Rock. Proven leader and commander, debatably one of the most capable rulers of the Rock in recent memory. It would have been a conversation I enjoyed but we'll save that for another time."


He cracked his neck, hiding his nervousness as he prepared to reveal Deannas rebellion, which could either give her the allies she needed or bring about her downfall. "I don't tell you what I'm about to lightly, you may already know something of my backer but a lot has happened recently. My backer is Daenna Targaryen, the last of the dragon blood line and Kuriva and Aerea are bastards blood. I do not say this without proof, other then judging by their looks my lady has recently picked up a man, who was kept quite close to the royal family and was punished dearly for knowing the truth of the children's heritage. My lady plans to make a claim for the throne, after Kuriva has taken the throne she has since proven unstable as this war is no doubt is a result of her actions and whats more she planned to betroth Daenna to the new king of Ibben to bring him here and help with the war effort on Kuriva's side. The Targaryen bloodline has ruled the seven kingdoms for many years, but Kuriva threatens the existence of that rule and that peace. We hope to remove Kuriva from the throne and return to the Queens peace and bring Brandeon and all other rebel houses back to the fold of house Targaryen and right the wrongs made recently in the error of chaotic rulership, which is why I've come here Lord Lannister." He said letting him digest that fact for a moment. "And the reason I've come here first is because House Lannister has yet to pick a side, and that makes you a mystery Lord Lannister, and valuable. So ill start this conversation by asking what you want Lord Lannister, because I won't pretend to know what you want. I have little doubt you want to improve the Westernlands circumstances and as well my lady is looking for allies. We can work to help each other, but we need to know where we stand with each other and I wish to speak honestly for both our sakes." Cayden was more of a warrior then a diplomat in speech if not in practice so his words carried a certain sincerity and bluntness, he only hoped the Lord Lannister wouldn't see it as a lack of courtesy, it had been to long since he practiced a nobles manner of speaking.


@WanderingJester
 

Ser Albert Lannister


Queensquard, and the Swift Lion
​



Albert marched towards the Queen's quarters. Albert had a pretty decent idea of the layout and he was well-aware of which room the Queen was given. If that wasn't enough, all he had to do was find an area of the castle littered with Targaryen guards.


He found such a hallway. It was deadly quiet that dropping a pin could be heard. Three men were stationed on each side of the hallway, a fair distance from each other. At the end of this was a door, with two more men in front. There was also a man with the Tully sigil on his armor outside with them, most probably Lady Barba's personal escort, waiting, but had difficulty hiding his anxiousness. It was probably difficult being surrounded by supposed enemies. It was only natural, if not inadequate, to have this level of security given the Queen's status and recent events. If all else failed, the Queen had arguably the best swordsman to ever live in King's Landing with her.


Only the sound of Albert's armor clanking could be heard as he walked towards the Queen's room. The Targaryen guards slighty nodded, acknowledging and recognizing their superior and his white armor. As soon as he arrived in front of the door, the Tully guard took notice and looked carefully at the man they called the Swift Lion. He has heard stories from people in the Rock. Had he not left his lord cousin's services, Lord Tiber would've had three fearful swords at his disposal. Alas, he left for whatever reason not known to him. The man didn't know whether it was fear or awe that he felt towards the man.


"Ser Albert." said one of the Targaryen guards in front of the door before the two of them slightly bowed in unison. They immediately stepped aside as Albert gave them a nod.


As soon as Albert stepped in, he immediately saw that the talk between Queen Kuvira and Lady Barba had already begun.


"Apologies, your Grace. I was delayed by people at the Great Hall." he said, immediately bowing his head to the Queen. He started making his way to stand beside Ser Gale and his liege, hopefully not interrupting what the two ladies were talking about.


@Leusis


@Hypnos
 
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Casterly Rock


POV: Daeron Nymeros Martell


As Cayden put his hand on Daeron soldier he found himself being comforted, Cayden seemed to always find ways to support them. I can only imagine how Cayden felt, being in Essos during that... Could only have been difficult. Daeron understood Cayden feelings somewhat I think we all feel guilty to some extent, "Worry not, you are not to blame" Daeron said trying to ease him, guilt was a horrible thing but it was only made worse when it was caused by what you had no control over. Daeron nodded his head as Cayden reminded him of father, he would want the lot of them to stay strong, he let out a sad chuckle as he responded "Yes, and home has missed you."





Once Cayden removed his arm from Daeron shoulder he started to talk about stories, just speaking about his experiences seemed to lighten the mood for both the brothers, the first one he teased was the three sisters I wonder what they are like, Myr is famous for their carpets, but then Cayden added the bit about the mercenary company... Was that a jest? Daeron thought to himself. Cayden then seemed to ho on about Braavos and the water dancers, A queer folk from what I have gathered, greasy and slimey... But they also originated from slaves of the Valyrians, that's interesting at least. But the one that Cayden finally chose was the House of Black and White. The temple of the many faced god, apparently it is the one least visited in Braavos, Rhollor and the Moonsingers seem to be quite popular there.





Daeron listened to Cayden story, intently and carefully a death cult... Although from the way he speaks it seems there was more death in the mercenary company of his rather than the house. "Charlatans with cheap tricks, I doubt they could even challenge you brother." Daeron said jokingly. It seemed no matter what the conversation was changed to it led back to the death of their mother and father it may plague us for the rest of our lives. Daeron thought grimly. Cayden question left Daeron confused, although he did not show it, being what?





Before Daeron could even question, nevermind answer he was interrupted by a knock on the door sister? Daeron instantly thought, though not one in particular. He was caught off guard once Cayden told him to stay put, is he expecting someone? But once the door opened it was the lionguard from earlier who Daeron figured the commander. He said something about meeting with Lord Tiber mayhaps Cayden means to give his gifts early? Daeron mused. Daeron only grew worried once Cayden told him to stay or go to his own room... What are they going to discuss that is so important? Once the two of them left Daeron let out a sigh I suppose I should make some sort of apperance at the feast, albeit a short one.





@Akio


@WanderingJester
 
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Ravenna Stark



​



Ravenna let out a broad grin at Tiber's words, and answered him with a slight shrug of her broad shoulders. "Well, the stupid fucks are pretty well dead now, I'd reckon," she chuckled, before giving a polite nod in response to Tiber's offer of refreshments. For the Northmen, that meant ale, which meant the lot of them were going to get even more drunk. Barely able to restrain their enthusiasm, the lot of them made their way over to a table, where they began their merry-making. However, Ravenna had paused, seeing a wave from a face she hadn't seen in a while. Ravenna let out a loud, "Ey Agnes! Sorry fer missin' yer weddin'!" And responded in her own wave, before she headed over to join her men. Agnes was smaller, dantier, and prettier by far, but Ravenna knew her to be kind from the bit of time they had spent together through their childhood.


However, a bit into their partying, Ravenna heard a bit of commotion, and turned her gaze to see one of her Tully cousins up ok a table, yelling. She barely caught some insult thrown her way, and a scowl crossed her face for a moment, until she realized it was Benji. Had it not been a Tully she might have hit him, but it was entertaining too, she supposed. So, she only laughed at Benji's words, her loud, roaring laughter echoing in the massive hall, her men joining her, laughing at the Riverlander's hysterics. Their laughter only ended when poor Agnes came up to apologize, and Ravenna grinned at her, giving her cousin a tight hug for a moment, although she was careful enough to not crush the girl. "Ye've no need to apologize! None at all!" She assured her, before getting back into her own drunken festivities, the few of her Northern friends she had brought beginning to jape about Roland's maid-like appearance, at least in the eyes of Benji.
 

Alyn of Hull

Eel Alley, King's Landing, The Crownlands.​



Despite himself, Alyn felt a twinge of pity as he watched the goldcloak commander begin his march down the long narrow alley that would soon serve as his final resting place, watching as him and the men beside him walked confidently and unknowingly to their own demise. He had worked for Lord Velaryon since he was a old enough to carry a blade, and had killed for the man plenty of times before, but that did not make his task any easier, nor any less dangerous.


Cethann Celtigar was a horrible man, and a pox on the city, that could not be denied, and the Lord of Claw Isle had long squandered crown resources on pleasures and luxuries for his own person. Did these crimes make him deserving of death however?That was not for Alyn to say, though to lay his conscience to rest he vowed to have Cathenn's body returned to Claw Isle where he could be laid to rest amongst his ancestors, lest he be found in the bottom of a bowl of brown by the people of Flea Bottom.


As the goldcloaks continued their descent down the alley, Alyn let out a sigh, drawing the blade gifted to him by the Lord of Tides. It was too long to be described as a dagger, yet too short for a sword, and the pommel had been intricately carved into the head of an eagle, gleaming half red in the evening light, and casting a black shadow onto the golden cloaks of the men before him. It was a beautiful thing and it would a shame to besmirch such fine steel with the blood of innocent men, though it was too late to turn back now. Hesitantly Alyn began to hum a solemn tune, one often played for him as a child back in Hull. 'The Hammer and the Anvil' it was called a tragic ballad detailing the victory of Prince's Baelor and Maekar during the first Blackfyre rebellion and a song apt at detailing the events that we about to unfold.


It was not long until his humming grew loud enough for others to hear and soon reciprocating tunes could be heard from from the far end of the dark alley, their perpetrators soon slinking out of the shadows and into view. They wore similar armour to Ser Alyn, a vibrant green with silver and gold inlaid upon their chest plates, forming the shape of a dancing lamb, their weapons were simple, and each man carried a sword and shield, forming up to create a blockade at the end of the alley, the anvil


"I'm sorry it had to be this way Lord Celtigar" Alyn called out to the men's backs, a hint of sincerity in his voice "were it up to me you would have died honourably after standing a fair trial, but it is not up to me I'm afraid" He began moving closer to the Lord of Claw Isle, Cethann now stuck in between the two groups of men, one drawing ever nearer and the other standing firm. He was unable to escape, or at least that was how it seemed and Alyn halted only when the pair were only a metre apart "You should have remembered to whom your loyalties lie my Lord, King Braedon sends his regards" with those final words, Alyn moved swiftly, attempting to plunge his blade into the man's shoulder.




Barba Tully

Guest Chambers, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.​



Barba stood before the queen, with a look of austerity, her harsh brown eyes never wavering from the face of the dark haired beauty before her, her expression one of contempt, yet also, surprisingly, one of pity, her lips curled into a frown. Barba had not been present at Kuvira's coronation and so had not laid eyes upon the woman since she was but a young princess, her father new to his throne, it surprised her somewhat that such a lovely young girl was now the source of all the woes which her family faced, and the biggest threat to peace in the realm. Were she a weaker woman the thought of it may have made her weep, though instead she merely felt sorry for the girl. Any woman who had to suffer Maeryn at the height of his insanity was deserving of at least that.


"No disrespect girl, but I think I'd rather remain standing" Barba replied to the queen's offer, her feet remaining firmly upon the floor "Unfortunately for some this gathering serves as more than a place to further our political aims, it's a wedding for goodness sake, and I'd rather we keep this meeting brief so that I may return to my family. I had not yet offered my congratulations to the bride before I was unceremoniously whipped away from the proceedings by your man, and I wish not to keep her waiting" Barba tried to remain polite though she found it increasingly difficult as the queen continued to speak to her as if she were a child, rather than a woman old enough to be grandmother. She did not fear poison, at least not from Kuvira nor was she worried by the swords of her queensguard, knowing that even if she were to die on this night she would soon find herself avenged by not only her own kin but also the swords of the west, who would not stand for the breaking of guest right with pin their hall.


"Do you not find it a tad ironic that in the same breath as you preach to me about your own innocence of your supposed father's crimes, you condemn me and the rest of my family for the actions of my husband. Actions I had no part in him taking" she emphasised 'supposed', ensuring that Kuvira knew exactly where she stood on the matter "I am afraid I can offer you no insight into why my husband made the decisions he did, and can make little more than a few educated guesses on his motivations, though I am sure you'd like to hear them nonetheless so as to relieve yourself from any blame for the wars to come." She looked up just in time to see the arrival of Ser Albert Lannister, returning from wherever her son had dragged him off to, Barba found it somewhat amusing that Albert continued to play the dutiful servant even within the walls of his family's own keep, though she for once held her tongue.


"You said it yourself earlier. Family, duty, honour. A Tully always loves his family and my husband is no exception. He may not be of our blood, but Braedon Baratheon is still family, and Walder has cared for the boy and his siblings since the day they first emerged into this world. He may be an old fool, and nowhere near the warrior he was in his youth, but unlike some, my husband still recalls his honour. He'd be loath to let you harm a single hair upon the boys head, let alone do as I'm sure you intend and remove the whole thing. I'm not sure I share his sentiment but I admire his resolve and he is my husband and the Lord of Riverrun, and is it not the duty of a good wife to do as her husband bids?"


Agnes Tully

The Great Hall, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.​



Offering a curtsy to the Lord of Fair isle as he approached the table, Agnes tried to regain her composure, though her face was still flushed from the embarrassment of her father's actions. Though Ser Benjcot was now removed from the hall, through the actions of her cousin and uncle his presence could still be felt and Agnes could feel the pressure of many eyes upon her, staring and whispering. She had been having a pleasant evening before then, reconnecting with with her family, and had almost managed to forget about what waited for her after the wedding reached its conclusion.


Wiping her face so as to draw away the attention from her still red face addressed Lord Wilds speaking, trying and failing to maintain a pleasant smile "You are correct Lord Wilds and I am thankful that you did not take offence nevertheless it was very inappropriate and I apologise to you for the scene it caused" she paused for a second, regarding the man before her "I saw you in the melee pit today my lord, it was a very impressive showing, you do not exaggerate when you say you are skilled with a sword" her tone was polite, and simple and she tried to make conversation even though she knew little of the man other than his name, title and what she had seen earlier in the tourney grounds.


"If there is anything you require of House Tully, do not hesitate to ask, I am deeply embarrassed by my father's actions and I do not want you to leave here with a bad impression of our family" she tried to emulate her grandfather, or her great uncle Eddard who were both skilled at pacifying angry vassals, though she had little experience in the matter herself.


Baelor Velaryon

The Red Keep, King's Landing, The Crownlands.​



'Friend.' Baelor shook his head in mock sadness, his eyes turning a darker shade of violet as he regarded the Grand-Maester, all previous pretences of courtesy suddenly disappearing into the early morning air. "Insults and slights I expected from you Vladan, we are growing old after all, you and I, and we both have lived long lives filled with name calling and mockery. But to lie to my face and be so sincere about it? That is something I thought below even you. I have my own men in Storm's End Maester and Braedon Baratheon has hardly begun his muster let alone his march to the city." Baelor stood, adjusting himself to full height above the Grand-Maester, casting a black shadow down the length of the long oaken table that ran all the way down the small council chamber.


"Write to her grace if you will, and tell her of. What has been said, though I have little doubt that Lord Tiber Lannister will be interested to read your exact plans the defence of the city. Were I a lesser man I would give in to your demands and resign my position upon this council, returning home to Driftmark with the entirety of my fleet to watch with glee as Braedon Baratheon razed this city to the ground. You are lucky I am not such a man, the love I bare for my sister's children may just save this city Grand-Maester and your life and though you think me a fool I am more vital to this city than you give me credit for." His eyes were hard and angry, no doubt Vladan would be enjoying this little display of what he would consider weakness, but Baelor was tired of trying to talk reason into the stubborn old fool.


"You are correct a few ships and the Velaryon name do not make an Admiral, no more than a Maester's chain and friends in the citadel make an intellectual. Say what you will about the Iron Fleet, but were it not for myself this city would be nothing but a pile of red bricks and rubble. I do what I do for her grace, and you'd do well to remember that we're on the same side of this war"


"Now if we have nothing else to discuss, I have more important things to do with my time, than having a one sided argument with a man who clearly wouldn't know reason if it were standing in front of him, trying to convince him not to brick up the fucking River Gate!" He began to move towards the exit, a frown present on his face.


@TheAncientCenturion @WanderingJester @Brook @Leusis
 

Tiber Lannister


Hall of Heroes, Casterly Rock, Westerlands.



​



Tiber Lannister chuckled to himself at the Martell's words. The irony of the situation struck him. The only man with the sense to approach the bargaining table the correct way didn't actually want something for himself, at least directly. The Merry Lion had no doubt of the benefits that House Martell would attain if the Dragon that they back ascend to the Iron Throne. They were also play a very dangerous game, considering the length that some might go to make sure Dorne would be uninhabitable should they get permission from the Crown, but he was getting ahead of himself. Tiber was a careful man if nothing else, and so the Lord of Casterly Rock turned back to the Martell Prince and spoke.


"They only call me that because of the contrast I show to the last Lord of Casterly Rock. I can assure you, as can my siblings, Tytos Lannister was as poor a father as he was as Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, as well as Hand of the King." He began pacing once more, walking slowly down the rows of Heroic statues. "If you took the time to go through this entire hall, you can find every King of the Rock tracing back to Lann the Clever himself. What you will not find is the corpse of my father, nor a statue commemorating him." Turning to Cayden, Tiber continued. "One of my first orders as Lord of Casterly Rock was for my men to toss my father's body into the sea for the fishes. I originally had the idea to feed it to the dogs, but I didn't want to make House Clegane's precious pets sick." He did not say these things in any intimidating or threatening fashion, in fact, it almost sounded as though he spoke of the poor weather, or an unpleasant hunting trip. To some men, this might be more unsettling than the alternative. "The reason I tell you this, Prince Martell, is because I want no one in Westeros and beyond to hold any illusions that I condone or have any intentions to continue the disgrace brought to House Lannister than my father reaped upon us. House Reyne and House Tarbeck made the mistake of testing my commitment to that cause, and they did not enjoy my answer."


"Therefore I must be a careful man, unlike my father. I hope you do not take offense if I take your words with a grain of salt. You are correct in that House Lannister have not pledge themselves to any claimant to the Iron Throne, even Kuvira Targaryen. However that does not mean I've had no offers of alliances either. What strikes me as strange is that, unlike her Grace for example, your dragon doesn't meet me face to face. I can understand that she's a busy woman, and thus cannot come herself. What's also noteworthy is that you sound as though you speak for Daenna Targaryen even more so than House Martell. Tell me, what has she promised you Cayden Martell? Sovereignty of Dorne as the next Lord of House Martell? Hand of the Queen? Or perhaps even King consort by her side?" Tiber tilted his head, watching for the Martell Prince's reaction. At a respectful but not too far distance, Tidus followed stopping whenever the two stopped in somber attention in the hallowed place. "And if that weren't the case, shouldn't your sister be present for this meeting, as the head of House Martell and Dorne? Does Daenna Targaryen even have House Martell's unilateral support at the moment?"


They stopped, this time in front of a tapestry of Lord Damon Lannister pledging the lion's support for House Targaryen during the first Blackfyre Rebellion. Tiber looked at the piece. Would they do the same this time? Would they back the Black Dragon instead? Perhaps neither? Turning back to the Dornishman, Tiber finished his thoughts. "I believe before we can proceed with this direction in the conversation, some proof must be presented. Again, forgive me for my meticulousness, but I've learned to not share my trust so easily after the War of the Lions. You say you speak for Daenna Targaryen; do you have any proof of speaking in her authority?" This should be a small thing, but a significant one as well. If Cayden Martell could not so much as show a letter entrusting due representation from the younger dragon, then he was in no position to form any alliance, for House Targaryen or otherwise.


@Akio
 
SER BENJICOTT TULLY

​




It was a long night for Benjcott or at least it seemed like it , he practically passed out right after Lothar and Titus dragged him back onto his quarters . For all the merits of drinking its after effects were probably the worst thing imaginable , something Benjicott was far to fimiliar with as he rose with a ragging headache .


"Ahh , the gods be damned what mess did i get myself into this time" he said as he looked down at his clothing .





"It couldn't have been that bad , at least i'm not in a woman's clothing "


Benji got out of his bed and proceeded to empty his bowels into his chamber pot .


"I know your out there you fucks , come on in and tell me how i have tarnished the reputation of the entirety of the tully household . And while you're at it get me some ale will ya , it does good for my headache ."


Lothar entered the quarters almost ready to punch him "MORE ALE BROTHER !!! what in the seven hells is wro-"


"It was just a few jokes brother , nothing to get so worked up about it , besides you look much uglier when your angry"





"JUST A FEW JOKES !!!! ??? You single handedly managed to insult one of the great houses of westeros and one of the strongest fighters in westeros in just one night !!!!"





"Eh , all in a good days work , anyways i guess i better get going , got some apologizing to do , oh and do me a favor and don't tell mum , she will probably skin me alive"





@Hypnos


 
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WALDER TULLY

The Great Hall, Casterly Rock, the Westerlands






​



Walder cursed under his breath as Benji was being dragged out. When Lothar had said his name, he cringed already noticing some eyes looking his way. Benji you idiot. After the the event would be over, he could already imagine people spreading what just happened all over Westeros. After a few seconds, the room returned to lively chatter and jokes. Walder sighed and refilled his goblet for the third time that night. Unlike Benji Walder was almost immune to getting drunk, which was a trait he highly enjoyed about himself. He once again scanned the room for his niece and found her talking to a man he believed to be Roland Wilds. Walder's eyes narrowed and he tensed a bit.


He had only heard stories about this man from Revina once or twice. It bugged him that she knew even a little about him so she stopped. According to what he had heard, Roland was to be one of the best fighters in Westeros. Walder smirked to himself as he took a small sip from his silver goblet, picturing himself fighting such an opponent. If the stories were true, Roland would have the upper hand but who doesn't like fighting with the odds stacked against them? Walder shook himself out of his thoughts and returned to the real issue at hand; Agnes was talking to him. Sure, it was more of a father's responsibility but it wasn't like Benji could or would do anything if he was here-- he was drunk as hell. Walder slowly made his way over to Agnes, his steps rigid and his face calm as ever. If you looked at him, you wouldn't even be able to tell that he was highly annoyed. He had to be careful though. Just becase he didn't like most from outside of the House, doesn't mean he should make an enemy of them. He didn't want to be the reason someone loses a finger tonight.


Walder stood behind Agnes, hearing her last words. Why the hell we would we give anything to them? If they anyone has an opinion of House Tully, I'd like to hear it... Agnes is too nice. Walder ultimately blamed Benji for this and would have to talk to him when they returned home.





"You must be Roland Wilds? Forgive me for my brother's behavior-- I hope he didn't scare you?" Walder said jokingly, but his eyes told another story.





@Hypnos


@Leusis


@TheGreyEminence
 

Roland Wilds - Casterly Rock

​



Listening to Celena, Roland would glance down at Kylie for a moment, using his left hand to move the hair from her face to get a better look at her and to check if she was really as tired as Celena said. From his position it seemed she was correct and not simply trying to keep the young woman out of his grasp. Using his hands he would guide Kylie to Celena so that she could help her to her bedroom as he spoke "Farewell my lady, I hope to see you again".


It was at this point that Agnes finally replied, speaking of her seeing his prowess in the pit. It always gave him a bit more pride every time a lovely woman noticed his ability with a blade, it often made him feel more like the knights from the books, rather than the machine of war he truely felt like. It was then that Agnes made him quite the offer, a favor from house Tully, something small of course, but something that could be useful none the less. "You are far too kind Lady Agnes, I wish only to make your house my friends for all of you will soon be my lieges family".


Watching Walder approach slowly Roland would shift his focus to the man, much more impressive than his old and skinny older brother. However Roland had heard nothing of this man, while he had heard plenty of Benji's skill with ranged weaponry. "Oh no, just a man who can't hold his drink as well as he used to, there is very little frightening about that Ser" Roland spoke with a soft chuckle. Completely oblivious of any deeper meaning to the mans words he asked calmly "So, will you or any of your family be joining the bracket melee? It would be most pleasant to see a Tully proving his worth in the pit".


Kuvira Targaryen - Casterly Rock

​



Kuvira listened carefully to the old woman, taking note of her speech, particularly of her use of calling Kuvira a girl. For now however the queen would remain calm, in fact she acted quite suprised when Barba mention that Walder was only helping Braedon because they were like family. "I apologize, but I believe your husband has misunderstood the situation Lady Barba. I sent Tadhg Stark's son to Braedon weeks ago as an envoy of peace. I wish for bloodshed just as little as you and your family do, I thought perhaps sending a Stark would cool the stags wrath due to their fathers close friendship. He is to give Braedon my peace terms and is to leave afterwards to return to Kings Landing where my uncle awaits his arrival so that he may give us Braedon's reply. I wish only for Braedon to stand trial for his allegations as any honorable man would. If you wish to give blame to anyone for this war, perhaps you should look at the Stag himself. He is the one who has declared war, the same as he declared me a bastard".


Kuvira simply stared at the old woman from across the table, taking note of Albert now that she had finished talking. "It is no bother Albert, I'm sure you tried your hardest to get here as quickly as possible" she spoke, still trying to look calm and noble in front of Barba. "As for the wedding, go and give your congratulations to Leanne, I only wanted to speak with you due to the fact you are the closest person to your husband and thus were the most appropriate to talk to other than Walder himself. Oh, and do not leave Casterly Rock, I'm sure Leanne as well as your children and grandchildren would appreciate if you would stay for the full length of the festivities, after all, family does come firt in your house words Lady Barba". Kuvira slowly stood from her chair, giving Barba a slight curtsy before Gale opened the door, allowing the older woman to leave.


Waiting nearly a full minute after she had left the room Kuvira would approach Albert. Make sure some of our men are watching the Tully encampment at all times, if she leaves I want to know about it. We can't have her telling the whole of Westeros that I am here or we may never get out of the Westerlands".


@WanderingJester


@Hypnos


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@Brook
 
At this point Adrian was entirely tired of waiting and had basically started pacing in an attempt to wait for the meeting to conclude. He could shouting within the room so he figured the meeting was almost done. Adrian was honestly getting nervous about meeting with Lord Baelor and from the shouting checkups tell Grand Maester Vladan was in there as well. Adrian and Vladan had meet when Adrian had joined the order of the Maesters. They had butted heads quite a few times over the subject of The Substance. Vladan was the only person to figure out that Adrian could make it and had demanded that he submit the recipe for it which he denied causes some tension between the two while Adilrian was forging his chains. He never really liked Vladan. He seemed far too arrogant even given his status it was a bit much. The man could use a good down pegging in Adrian's opinion, but like always he kept such thoughts to himself. As he heard foot steps coming to the door Adrian stopped pacing and faced the door.


@Hypnos


@TheAncientCenturion
 
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WanderingJester said:

Tiber Lannister


Hall of Heroes, Casterly Rock, Westerlands.



​



Tiber Lannister chuckled to himself at the Martell's words. The irony of the situation struck him. The only man with the sense to approach the bargaining table the correct way didn't actually want something for himself, at least directly. The Merry Lion had no doubt of the benefits that House Martell would attain if the Dragon that they back ascend to the Iron Throne. They were also play a very dangerous game, considering the length that some might go to make sure Dorne would be uninhabitable should they get permission from the Crown, but he was getting ahead of himself. Tiber was a careful man if nothing else, and so the Lord of Casterly Rock turned back to the Martell Prince and spoke.


"They only call me that because of the contrast I show to the last Lord of Casterly Rock. I can assure you, as can my siblings, Tytos Lannister was as poor a father as he was as Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, as well as Hand of the King." He began pacing once more, walking slowly down the rows of Heroic statues. "If you took the time to go through this entire hall, you can find every King of the Rock tracing back to Lann the Clever himself. What you will not find is the corpse of my father, nor a statue commemorating him." Turning to Cayden, Tiber continued. "One of my first orders as Lord of Casterly Rock was for my men to toss my father's body into the sea for the fishes. I originally had the idea to feed it to the dogs, but I didn't want to make House Clegane's precious pets sick." He did not say these things in any intimidating or threatening fashion, in fact, it almost sounded as though he spoke of the poor weather, or an unpleasant hunting trip. To some men, this might be more unsettling than the alternative. "The reason I tell you this, Prince Martell, is because I want no one in Westeros and beyond to hold any illusions that I condone or have any intentions to continue the disgrace brought to House Lannister than my father reaped upon us. House Reyne and House Tarbeck made the mistake of testing my commitment to that cause, and they did not enjoy my answer."


"Therefore I must be a careful man, unlike my father. I hope you do not take offense if I take your words with a grain of salt. You are correct in that House Lannister have not pledge themselves to any claimant to the Iron Throne, even Kuvira Targaryen. However that does not mean I've had no offers of alliances either. What strikes me as strange is that, unlike her Grace for example, your dragon doesn't meet me face to face. I can understand that she's a busy woman, and thus cannot come herself. What's also noteworthy is that you sound as though you speak for Daenna Targaryen even more so than House Martell. Tell me, what has she promised you Cayden Martell? Sovereignty of Dorne as the next Lord of House Martell? Hand of the Queen? Or perhaps even King consort by her side?" Tiber tilted his head, watching for the Martell Prince's reaction. At a respectful but not too far distance, Tidus followed stopping whenever the two stopped in somber attention in the hallowed place. "And if that weren't the case, shouldn't your sister be present for this meeting, as the head of House Martell and Dorne? Does Daenna Targaryen even have House Martell's unilateral support at the moment?"


They stopped, this time in front of a tapestry of Lord Damon Lannister pledging the lion's support for House Targaryen during the first Blackfyre Rebellion. Tiber looked at the piece. Would they do the same this time? Would they back the Black Dragon instead? Perhaps neither? Turning back to the Dornishman, Tiber finished his thoughts. "I believe before we can proceed with this direction in the conversation, some proof must be presented. Again, forgive me for my meticulousness, but I've learned to not share my trust so easily after the War of the Lions. You say you speak for Daenna Targaryen; do you have any proof of speaking in her authority?" This should be a small thing, but a significant one as well. If Cayden Martell could not so much as show a letter entrusting due representation from the younger dragon, then he was in no position to form any alliance, for House Targaryen or otherwise.


@Akio
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Cayden had to admit he was initially shocked and a bit horrified at the description at casualness of the desecration of his fathers body and his blatant disregard for the man. As someone who was so close to his own father and devastated by missing his final hours to hear such hate from another man to his father was disturbing. Yet Tiber did not strike him as a man who would not give credit where credit is do nor a man who would over exaggerate. If he had done this all to his own father what had his father done to him, he was not blind to the aspects of cruelty that family could unleash on each other. Still it gave him a degree of insight into the Lannister family, and the man in front of him likely built in part because of the actions of his father. "I wonder if and to what degree the Lion Maid was influenced by the same man as well as her brother." He thought, his mind turning over to the other family members of the Lannister line.


He refocused on Tiber as he began to question why Daenna couldn't come herself and what he would earn in exchange for his loyalty. Further more Tiber had asked for proof of representation. Before he left Essos he himself had not been perfectly certain this would have been necessary but when gathering other proof of Daennas claims Dallen had drafted up a letter of representation for the young dragon to sign and for a moment he thanked Dallen for his foresight when he had been more worried about leaving his friend again. He tried keeping his face as neutral as possible but when Tiber mentioned him becoming consort his face couldn't help but twitch, remembering her current engagement to the King of Ibben. "The reason Daenna didn't come to meet you herself is because of the deal Kuriva made with Ibben. Even if Daenna declared herself independent Ibben has proven they have a interest in Westeros. If left alone then they could make a new alliance with one of our enemies which was something she was not prepared to allow. Even if she came to Westeros without allies she would be in danger, so better to send a negotiator to do the part." He said with a shrug before speaking again. "As for my own reward it deals with not my personal gain, but land for Dorne. Dorne has always been the least populated because much of our land is not farmable, which is why raids on the Reach started long before hatred between us started. The reason I speak for Daenna more then I do my sister is because Daenna was a personal friend, family in all but blood, before she took up this responsibility. I support her for Dorne sake and my own personal investment." He said, showing the kind of man he was, Cayden was not a selfish man who worked for his own gains, for his enjoyments in his life were simple. Family and Dorne was his concerns, that was all he needed.


Cayden looked up at the tapestry of Damon Lannister, thinking about his family. He believed he was working for Dornes best interest but would his family? Would Elia want to support the young dragon across the sea? As far as he knew his family had not declared support for any faction but what if they had a plans in the works, which he believed Elia might to bring the whole family here. He needed to speak to them as soon as possible. "Dorne is still debating on the matter, though if we did not stand alone thus far it will likely help make up her mind which is why I look for other allies, which is the reason along with not wanting to make a scene why my sister is not here. A meeting of Martell and Lannister would be seen as dangerous by many. Until the day Daenna crosses the sea there is no reason to force public declarations for her and draw attention. When Daenna crosses the sea the element of surprise can mean a swift victory or a long drawn out war, I just plan to gather what allies I can during these times and weaken her enemies to make the path to peace smooth as possible." He paused before glancing at the door. "I indeed have ways to show I represent her, along with proof of Kurivas deal with Ibben. But they are both with my horse, which because I was locked in my room I didn't have a chance to collect. I can get them myself or you can send a servant while we discuss possible terms." He said his voice having a slightly exasperated tone remembering that he had been sent to his room of all things, when he was older then the lord of the castle and now it was hindering negotiation though it didn't seem to be aimed at the lord of the rock.


@WanderingJester
 
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Haelga Greyjoy



​



Haelga sat at one of the tables in the great hall, in the midst of her fellows. Men from the iron islands, all of them, except for a disguised Giaou, as she wanted to keep at least that part of her voyage a bit of a secret for the moment. They all wore her colors, the greyjoys' golden kraken in front of the Farwynd's setting sun. She was not afraid of showing herself here, despite all the looks she was getting from everyone. Some would likely be suspicious of her presence as she was an enemy, or perhaps hating of her, due to her kindred' actions, but it didn't truly matter in her eyes. She was here to show the good will she and her people were capable of, and attempt to make some sort of friendship with the Greenland lords. However, so far it hadn't been going too well. Few, if any of the Greenlanders were willing to talk to her, and it was bothering her. Even when dead, her brother haunted her every moment and made her miserable. That seemed to be all he was good for anyways when he was alive.


She had hopes to converse with other noble lords and ladies, Tiber most of all, but seeing his absence dissapointed her. After all, they needed to continue their talks of the future from earlier, as well as the fact that Haelga needed to discuss what she had planned for the wedding with him, something to make it the most impressive wedding the realm had seen in decades. At least that is what she would hope. Perhaps the impressive display would earn her the respect she was looking for, if all went well and the Greenlanders decided to be open-minded.
 

Tiber Lannister


Hall of Heroes, Casterly Rock, Westerlands.



​



Tiber Lannister nearly shook his head at the Martell Prince's words, though years of diplomatic negotiations and political dealings allowed him the self control to do otherwise. While Cayden Martell had a much better approach with his concerns and requests, he was simply ill prepared for the bargaining table, especially when the stakes were as high as the kingdoms in Westeros. The Lord of Casterly Rock also noticed the uncomfortable twitch on the Dornish Prince's face. Evidently he had struck a nerve, but how? Did the Dornishman really wanted to be King Consort, but can't? Or something else? It didn't matter. What does was that Cayden Martell stood before him, not as Lord of House Martell and Sunspear, empty handed when requested the proof of representation for the younger Red Dragon, especially if it was at the place he had just came from. The man from House Martell was either lying or extremely naive about his personal gains from helping Daenna on to the throne. Tiber could relate in securing the best possible position for one's homeland, but to do so without the lord or lady of the house's notice, let alone permission? He rubbed his hands together to get some warmth into them.


"Well then, from what you've told me, it seems that the young Red Dragon seemed intent on at least meeting with the Ibbenesse King, if not straight out marrying him. What you're doing here is admirable, to be sure, but little that I can take outside of words. Without being in position to execute any of the promises yourself, those words are hard to trust, to say the least. A man's word is only as good as his ability to act on it after all. You do not even have the support of your own house, yet you wish for House Lannister to back Daenna Targaryen? You claim to speak for her and that the proper identifications, yet you lack them on your persons, despite knowing you were coming to speak with me? You could've easily asked Ser Tidus to come with you to the stables to retrieve them. I may be a busy man, but a few more minutes would not have made much of a difference then." He began to head back to the doorway, where Tidus nodded his approval in Tiber's assumptions.


"I understand in regards to the possible danger that Daenna Targaryen might not wish to expose herself to by coming back to Westeros unsupported. However, House Lannister will have nothing to do with Ibben or her allies. If that is the case with Daenna Targaryen and any intentions she might have of dealing with them, then consider the topic of any possible support from Casterly Rock and the Westerland closed. We will not support any foreign powers attempting to reach the soils of Westeros. If that is not the case of your Targaryen, we may resume this meeting another time, with the presence of your sister, Lady Elia of Sunspear, in attendance. There we may formally discuss due issues between the Westerlands and Dorne. Do not concern yourself about poor image. It is my wedding festival after all. If one of the Great Houses wishes to spend an afternoon sharing tea with me and mine as well as offer congratulations in a quieter setting, who would deny me of that? Until then, I hope you enjoy the rest of the festivities." Tiber began walking away, joined by his Lionguard Commander.


@Akio


_________________________




Celena Lannister


The Great hall, Casterly Rock, Westerlands.

​



Celena Lannister smiled before reaching over and nearly prying her friend and handmaiden off of Lord Wilds. The red headed girl mumbled in her sleepy state. "G'night, Lord Wilds, may you have sweet dreams, you handsome, sweet-" Before she could say more scandalous things, the Lion Maid offered her apology and moved to one of the entrances of the Great Hall. As the party wind down, the music and noise grew softer. People, those sober enough to hold a sensible conversation, could talk to each other in a lower volume. More people had passed out in the Great Hall, including her future brother in law. Kevan's head rested on the table, his body unmoving as one of the Tully granddaughter stroked his hair looking sympathetic. Perhaps he might find a future wife after all this festival. Celena turned back to the doorway, only to see her older brother come through it.


Martyn took a look at her. "Need any help?" The Lion Maid shook her head and continued towards the exit.


"I can handle her, will you help close out the party? Leanne's already retired and it's just a few people left. With all the excitement, I would rest a little easier if one of us was here." The Mountain Lion nodded, before gesturing at a pair of nearby Lionguards. The knights saluted and flanked Celena, and together the four left the Great Hall. After a few moments of walking, Celena arrived at her quarters, which included rooms for her guests and Kylie. Walking the tired and sleepy girl over to the Pickledon's bed, the Lion Maid removed Kylie's shoes and socks before rolling her onto the bed, and pulling the covers over her friend. Celena gave a smile and a peck on her forehead as Kylie mumbled something inaudibly, and the Lion Maid left the room after blowing out the few candles in it, heading to get a bath and some sleep on her own.


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@Fezzes (For your reading pleasure)


@Robyn Banks (Same thing)
 

WALDER TULLY

The Great Hall, Casterly Rock, the Westerlands



​



Walder looked at Roland for a few seconds, his stale presence still apparent. He took another sip from his goblet and placed it down on a nearby table before responding to the man.





"I don't know about my brothers, but I am considering it. Depends on the turnout" Walder said, finishing his goblet with his eyes still fixed on Roland. Up until now, he wasn't planning to join the melee but if Roland was going to be in it, it wouldn't be such a bad idea. He felt the metal of the knife inside his sleeve and winced. It was very subtle, not that it hurt that much anyways. He slammed his goblet on the table and chuckled to himself, trying to maintain his posture as he swayed a bit. "Personally, I think I could fight better than both of my brothers." This of course was a lie. Benji could smash his skull open if they were on the battlefield but Lothar and him had never really full on fought before. Actually, now that he thought about it-- fighting Benji wouldn't be so bad either. "How about you? I expect you to be fighting... it would be interesting to see you in battle, I've heard many things." Walder was quite surprised at himself for how much he was talking.





Must be the drink. Damn.





@Leusis @Hypnos
 
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Cayden just stood in the hall of heros for a moment, watching Tiber leave for a moment while he stood there watching him walk away, unable to say a single thing for a moment. He had not expected such an extreme reaction to the news of Ibben, though he himself had also become aware of the problem Ibben represented for Dorne he was a bit shocked by the hardline others took, especially Tiber who had hired thousands of mercenaries. Cayden scowled, feeling an ache grow behind his eyes that he was fearing would soon become familiar. He felt a bitter taste rise in the back of his throat and he found himself growing sick and tired of the entire afternoon he had just gone through and he had walked away with nothing. He had not even seen any of his family but Daeron and now he felt like his entire trip to Westeros was a waste of time. He let out a slow breath, turning to the Tapestry of Lann the Clever and just looking at it for a moment, wishing he had the silver tongue that tricked the casterlys out of their castle. "Ibben will have to go." He thought to himself. They were losing allies for trying to ally with them of far more power then the troops Ib could represent on top of his earlier misgivings. He would send a letter to Braavos, Dallen was due to stop there and he knew contacts there that would pass the message on.


He needed to speak to his sister, house Martell could not afford to do nothing for this war and he if nothing else he would need Dornes support if he wanted to do anything else. He turned, his eyes harsh feeling in a terrible mood. He left the room striding past the guard with a harsh set to his shoulders. He turned, going quickly as he decided he needed something more to drink. He started back towards the great hall, his path probably taking him longer and taking him in some weird directions compared to other more direct paths but he needed a walk. He was angry, he couldn't seem to do anything here. If he was Lord of house Martell would it be different? Never the less he tossed that idea out immediately from his mind. If he had been the lord of Dorne he would have never been able to go to Essos and this situation would have never taken place the same way, he would have never met Dallen or Gerrard, he would not know about the deal with Ib and his life would have been entirely different. Never the less, right now he could not help but imagine what it would have been like now if he had been Lord Martell, and if Tiber would have treated him differently. He got to the greathall after some extra directions from a helpful servant and instinctively stuck to the corner and shadows. Technically he was not supposed to be here and he did not want to be the center of attention yet again. Creeping to the sides he went and picked up a few wine skins to check their weight, wondering about how much he should take, the place was more empty so it was unlikely to cause problems but he did want to fight tomorrow, and in a moment of inattentiveness lost count on anyway watching him.


@TheAncientCenturion
 

The Rock

The Black Dragon
​



"Thank you Lord Lannister, we'll be meeting each other to discuss this again. Soon enough, if the war pans out as I expect it to." He left with a devious smirk. Viserys understood what hard negotiators were like, he had to deal with the Magisters of the Free Cities, and Tiber Lannister's insistence on some points could be used to the Blackfyre King's advantage. 'Let's see what I can get by him on the condition that the Tyrell's leave Highgarden?' The Tyrell Host was problamatic for a number of reasons, none of which he wanted to dwell on. But Viserys knew exactly what to hone in on the next time the two met. 'He's not half the fool his father is, but neither is he devoid of his mark.' It would be a point to also prod the lion on. From one son who had issues with his father to another, the Valyrian bastard had an idea of what he could say to unhinge Tiber, should there be a time to unhinge the man.


All in all, Viserys left the chamber in a high, the Black Dragon had an advantage over Tiber, he felt. The guards began to show him to his apartment in the Rock, but Viserys was too busy going over the meeting in his head. He felt confident in every choice he made and how he acted himself. He portrayed himself as Viserys the Soldier, a personality the man had long since adopted for his military career. And that won him points in the eyes of Tiber, Blackfyre was certain, Viserys the Politican would of come across as far less amicable. And Viserys needed Casterly Rock if he wanted to win the war. 'Though. . If Tiber did take offense to the soldiery in me, I suppose there's nothing more to do than replace him.' It wasn't something he considered for the first time. In his ride over, should Tiber deem any other worthy of his cause, it was evident that Tiber wasn't mentally fit to govern. He'd do the realm a favor. 'It wouldn't be the first time I tore someone from their rightful seat for my benefit.' His enemies often looked towards his army or his sword for the danger, but Viserys dealt his biggest blows with assassins.


"Here you go." One of the guards said, opening the door to a lavish apartment for the king.


"My thanks." He walked in.


"Leave your arms and armor inside. You'll find something suitable inside." He said deadpanned.


Viserys looked down, an eyebrow rising in confusion. He still wore the colors of the Windblown and the mail with boiled leather underneath. He didn't even look like a knight, but a trained soldier. He nodded, smiling. "Yes, thank you." He shut the door behind him. His eyes went back to the sword by his belt, the ancient Valyrian sword that was Blackfyre. It seemed to glare at him now that they were alone, accusing him of unheard crimes. "And what do you want?" He grumbled back, throwing the sword on his bed. He had enough going on, he didn't need voices in his head guessing every choice the man made for a third and forth time.


"I know what I'm doing, I'm in complete control of everything!" He said, stripping off the windblown colors, practically tearing through the fabric with his fingers. The mail fell to the floor, boiled leather and small clothing afterwards, forming a small pile. The naked man began to pace through the room, clutching his head. Despite his best efforts, the voice echoed inside his head. It was like in his dreams, but Viserys was confident he was not asleep. His eyes widened, biting on his lips hard enough to draw blood. The voice persisted.


"Does a dragon make deals or commands vassals?" The echo in his head, in a grizzled voice said. The words came off unseen moistened lips that were all too familiar to the bastard.


Viserys shut his eyes, but the familiar face of Maeryn haunted him still. "I don't need advice from a dead man." He sneered, walking over to the wardrobe cabinet, looking at what could be found in the furnishing. The essentials were all there, but rarely was anything without the lion of Lannister to be found, and certainly not in his size. Reluctantly, Viserys slipped on a red and gold tunic, showing off his hosts colors, and black trousers. His boots from before were slipped back on when fresh socks could be applied. Lastly, the king looked for the promised dye.


"Odd choice of color. Yellow dye would look more natural. . " He thought. The jar of glass was filled with a brown liquid, his dye, and the King Beyond the Sea couldn't help but shake the sealed jar, the color causing him some issue. 'It really should be yellow. . I'd look better as a blond.' He thought again. It wasn't that, Viserys knew, but something caused him unrest. "Nothing to do but apply it. . " He muttered, striding into his bathroom. He sat by the tube, letting his head hang over the rim. He applied the dye to his hair, smearing the brown color over his shoulders, straining the yellow of the tunic. In ten minutes he had sorted it over his hair to a satisfying amount. It was far from perfect, he couldn't touch up his eyebrows, but he was Westerosi-looking enough to pass by unnoticed. Or so he hoped.


With his new attire and freshly dyed hair, Viserys stepped out of the apartment, surprised to see a man standing guard there still. "Is Lord Tiber having me watched?"


"Nay Milord." He was a brick chinned ruffian. "I'm escorting you to the hall."


"Oh. . Many thanks." Viserys replied, slightly stunned, but rolled with it. The man did just as he said he would, directing Viserys through the different halls of the castle fortress until he was finally back in sight of the main hall, which he only briefly caught sight of earlier. "This is a fantastic room. Lord Lannister should take pride in it." The guard replied, but the Valyrian Bastard paid him no more mind. He was off. First to find something to drink, and then to find someone who he could mingle with. Lords and Ladies were abound here, the chances of old Houses that swore to the Black Dragon in the past were high.


He smiled and made polite conversation with a few guests as he walked to a table with skins of wine on it. None seemed to pay him too much attention. 'Mayhaps I should keep my hair like this always. It'd be easier to move around, that's for certain.'


"And what sort of dragon hides from his subjects?" Viserys could practically feel the spit hitting him in the face as his fathers voice came to him again. Viserys scowled.


He grabbed hold of a skin of wine and uncorked the top, letting a generous amount of the wine pour into his mouth. He knew it wasn't a thing nobility should do, for he would refrain from such acts when visiting the Free Cities, but the voice in Viserys' head drove him to drink more and more. A moment later someone else came by, tentatively inspecting the same skins of wine. Viserys looked him over and turned back to his wine. . "Don't I. . " It clicked. "You dirty Red Snake." He hollered, turning with an arrogant grin on his face.


Cayden Martell was a bore of a sellsword and too Westerosi for Essos, despite Dornish claims of being unique. He wasn't Viserys' first pick of men who he'd choose to meet in Westeros. Aemond of the Windblown wasn't too bad of a chap, and the Captain-General of the Company of Cats usually had Viserys' very high opinion. But the sight of a fellow sellsword, a leader of Sellswords, was a genuine delight. "And how did they get you out of the Disputed Lands, hm?" He hummed accusatively. "Did you lead that band of yours to their certain doom, or did they just kick you out." His smirk held through, waiting for the Dornish Prince to react to his presence.


@Akio
 
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TheAncientCenturion said:

The Rock

The Black Dragon
​



"Thank you Lord Lannister, we'll be meeting each other to discuss this again. Soon enough, if the war pans out as I expect it to." He left with a devious smirk. Viserys understood what hard negotiators were like, he had to deal with the Magisters of the Free Cities, and Tiber Lannister's insistence on some points could be used to the Blackfyre King's advantage. 'Let's see what I can get by him on the condition that the Tyrell's leave Highgarden?' The Tyrell Host was problamatic for a number of reasons, none of which he wanted to dwell on. But Viserys knew exactly what to hone in on the next time the two met. 'He's not half the fool his father is, but neither is he devoid of his mark.' It would be a point to also prod the lion on. From one son who had issues with his father to another, the Valyrian bastard had an idea of what he could say to unhinge Tiber, should there be a time to unhinge the man.


All in all, Viserys left the chamber in a high, the Black Dragon had an advantage over Tiber, he felt. The guards began to show him to his apartment in the Rock, but Viserys was too busy going over the meeting in his head. He felt confident in every choice he made and how he acted himself. He portrayed himself as Viserys the Soldier, a personality the man had long since adopted for his military career. And that won him points in the eyes of Tiber, Blackfyre was certain, Viserys the Politican would of come across as far less amicable. And Viserys needed Casterly Rock if he wanted to win the war. 'Though. . If Tiber did take offense to the soldiery in me, I suppose there's nothing more to do than replace him.' It wasn't something he considered for the first time. In his ride over, should Tiber deem any other worthy of his cause, it was evident that Tiber wasn't mentally fit to govern. He'd do the realm a favor. 'It wouldn't be the first time I tore someone from their rightful seat for my benefit.' His enemies often looked towards his army or his sword for the danger, but Viserys dealt his biggest blows with assassins.


"Here you go." One of the guards said, opening the door to a lavish apartment for the king.


"My thanks." He walked in.


"Leave your arms and armor inside. You'll find something suitable inside." He said deadpanned.


Viserys looked down, an eyebrow rising in confusion. He still wore the colors of the Windblown and the mail with boiled leather underneath. He didn't even look like a knight, but a trained soldier. He nodded, smiling. "Yes, thank you." He shut the door behind him. His eyes went back to the sword by his belt, the ancient Valyrian sword that was Blackfyre. It seemed to glare at him now that they were alone, accusing him of unheard crimes. "And what do you want?" He grumbled back, throwing the sword on his bed. He had enough going on, he didn't need voices in his head guessing every choice the man made for a third and forth time.


"I know what I'm doing, I'm in complete control of everything!" He said, stripping off the windblown colors, practically tearing through the fabric with his fingers. The mail fell to the floor, boiled leather and small clothing afterwards, forming a small pile. The naked man began to pace through the room, clutching his head. Despite his best efforts, the voice echoed inside his head. It was like in his dreams, but Viserys was confident he was not asleep. His eyes widened, biting on his lips hard enough to draw blood. The voice persisted.


"Does a dragon make deals or commands vassals?" The echo in his head, in a grizzled voice said. The words came off unseen moistened lips that were all too familiar to the bastard.


Viserys shut his eyes, but the familiar face of Maeryn haunted him still. "I don't need advice from a dead man." He sneered, walking over to the wardrobe cabinet, looking at what could be found in the furnishing. The essentials were all there, but rarely was anything without the lion of Lannister to be found, and certainly not in his size. Reluctantly, Viserys slipped on a red and gold tunic, showing off his hosts colors, and black trousers. His boots from before were slipped back on when fresh socks could be applied. Lastly, the king looked for the promised dye.


"Odd choice of color. Yellow dye would look more natural. . " He thought. The jar of glass was filled with a brown liquid, his dye, and the King Beyond the Sea couldn't help but shake the sealed jar, the color causing him some issue. 'It really should be yellow. . I'd look better as a blond.' He thought again. It wasn't that, Viserys knew, but something caused him unrest. "Nothing to do but apply it. . " He muttered, striding into his bathroom. He sat by the tube, letting his head hang over the rim. He applied the dye to his hair, smearing the brown color over his shoulders, straining the yellow of the tunic. In ten minutes he had sorted it over his hair to a satisfying amount. It was far from perfect, he couldn't touch up his eyebrows, but he was Westerosi-looking enough to pass by unnoticed. Or so he hoped.


With his new attire and freshly dyed hair, Viserys stepped out of the apartment, surprised to see a man standing guard there still. "Is Lord Tiber having me watched?"


"Nay Milord." He was a brick chinned ruffian. "I'm escorting you to the hall."


"Oh. . Many thanks." Viserys replied, slightly stunned, but rolled with it. The man did just as he said he would, directing Viserys through the different halls of the castle fortress until he was finally back in sight of the main hall, which he only briefly caught sight of earlier. "This is a fantastic room. Lord Lannister should take pride in it." The guard replied, but the Valyrian Bastard paid him no more mind. He was off. First to find something to drink, and then to find someone who he could mingle with. Lords and Ladies were abound here, the chances of old Houses that swore to the Black Dragon in the past were high.


He smiled and made polite conversation with a few guests as he walked to a table with skins of wine on it. None seemed to pay him too much attention. 'Mayhaps I should keep my hair like this always. It'd be easier to move around, that's for certain.'


"And what sort of dragon hides from his subjects?" Viserys could practically feel the spit hitting him in the face as his fathers voice came to him again. Viserys scowled.


He grabbed hold of a skin of wine and uncorked the top, letting a generous amount of the wine pour into his mouth. He knew it wasn't a thing nobility should do, for he would refrain from such acts when visiting the Free Cities, but the voice in Viserys' head drove him to drink more and more. A moment later someone else came by, tentatively inspecting the same skins of wine. Viserys looked him over and turned back to his wine. . "Don't I. . " It clicked. "You dirty Red Snake." He hollered, turning with an arrogant grin on his face.


Cayden Martell was a bore of a sellsword and too Westerosi for Essos, despite Dornish claims of being unique. He wasn't Viserys' first pick of men who he'd choose to meet in Westeros. Aemond of the Windblown wasn't too bad of a chap, and the Captain-General of the Company of Cats usually had Viserys' very high opinion. But the sight of a fellow sellsword, a leader of Sellswords, was a genuine delight. "And how did they get you out of the Disputed Lands, hm?" He hummed accusatively. "Did you lead that band of yours to their certain doom, or did they just kick you out." His smirk held through, waiting for the Dornish Prince to react to his presence.


@Akio
Click to expand...
Cayden had to admit, he wasn't paying attention to much other then the bottles in front of him, his plan was to get in and get out so he wasnt paying much attention to the man in front of him, so he just kind of ignored the man in front of him, though he got a strange feeling then he somehow knew the man when he saw him. However when the man spoke he actually took the time to look at the man. He was strong by a sense of familiarity when suddenly the man spoke and he realized who he was. "You..." He said for a moment shock crossing over his features, forgetting the the mans shout likely drew attention to them. "You arrogant lizard." He said a smile crossing over his face, to say that Visery was his favorite person would be false as they had many disagreements in opinion but to see a friendly face after the day he had he couldn't help but smile seeing the Blackfyre prince, for the moment disregarding why the man might be there.


When Viserys commented on him losing his men or being kicked out he scoffed, any attempt at a noble facade slipping away in a moment, replaced by the swaggering confidence of a mercenary that when combined with his looks and bright smile had always been good at getting him what he wanted in life, whether it be a woman, a contract, or a round at the bar. This was what he was used to and it showed. "What is your ugly ass doing all the way out here, and you even changed your hair, did you think it would improve your looks? If so your hopes were unfounded, your as ugly as ever." Whether intentionally or not he did not reveal his identity despite the fact they both knew they easily could. Never the less knowing Kuriva was here did instill a sense of caution in him, and at the moment meeting Viserys was the second best thing to happen since the melee (only beaten out by meeting his brother) and perhaps whats more is he did not know what Viserys wanted or planned to do.


@TheAncientCenturion
 

The Rock


The Black Dragon

​



"Careful there, snake." He shot back, folding both arms over his chest, wine skin discarded on the table. "I didn't expect you'd ever come over this way, I thought you yearned for adventure." It was good to see the Captain of the Red Spears, better yet to return to an environment that was so more familiar to Viserys. The life of a mercenary was easy to follow, he practically wrote the rules he followed. Only a select few could talk down to him, and they did so with hesitance. "Do you like it?" He ran a hand through the dyed hair, his fingers getting browned. "It's not dry yet, but I'll be damned if I am staying inside a room for another hour while there's a festival out here." He grinned, looking out at the grand hall before them. It wasn't as full as he thought, but the hour was getting late.


"I'm here to meet with an acquaintance. ." Viserys wondered if he should divulge his reasons for being here. Cayden was a mercenary, who'd sell his life to the highest bidder. But a sense of comradeship ship forced a sigh out of the Blackfyre King. "I knew Tytos Lannister fairly well before I left. He clung to my fathers side, like all the other leeches." Baelor, Vladan, and that oaf Manderly. "When I heard he died I rushed over to give young Tiber my sympathies." It was. . Not entirely true. To call it a half-truth would still go too far. "Westeros isn't safe for someone like myself, right now at least." He shrugged, leaning back as he glanced downwards at Cayden.


"So why are you here? Looking for something a bit more appetizing than a Dornish woman?" He joked, lightly shoving the man.


@Akio
 
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Nyalla Gargalen


Beauty of the Salt Shore



​



Nyalla enjoyed every sort of party, and this one had thus far met her standards. She had accompanied Daeron to the wedding by order of the princess of Dorne, although the both of them knew she had wanted to go anyways. She was drawn to feasts and festivals like a moth to a flame, or better yet, as men found themselves drawn to her. Today of course, would be no exception to that, not with the dress she would be wearing. It had been an expensive piece, custom made for her with the bright, dandelion yellow of her house. It was scandalous to put it simply, tight and revealing around her. It was low-hanging over her breasts, showing quite the bit of cleavage, and it was also taut about her rear. There were large holes under her arms, allowing one to see all the way from her armpits to her hips. The dress left very little to the imagination, but subtly had never been to her tastes, after all. And as ever, it played out well for her. She got chills from the northern breeze, but it was the gazes of the noblemen that made her shiver, not from chill but with excitement. Throughout the night she had danced her fair share, with nobles high and low, allowing a lucky few to sneak in a touch or a grab if they were bold enough. The whole time however, she had kept her eyes out, for the man Elia had sent her to find, the princess's own brother.


Through the night she had been given little result, until he seemed to appear right in front of her, right as she had gone to flirt with some brunette lordling in Lannister colors. She moved towards the two conversing, listening in on their words as she approached. At the lordling' remark on what would appetize Cayden, she let out a warm laugh, giving her own reply. "The only thing more appetizing than Dornish women is Dornish food, my lord," she hinted with a sly grin. "And of course, I do believe your friend here would know that quite well, if he hasn't changed in all this time."
 
TheAncientCenturion said:

The Rock


The Black Dragon

​



"Careful there, snake." He shot back, folding both arms over his chest, wine skin discarded on the table. "I didn't expect you'd ever come over this way, I thought you yearned for adventure." It was good to see the Captain of the Red Spears, better yet to return to an environment that was so more familiar to Viserys. The life of a mercenary was easy to follow, he practically wrote the rules he followed. Only a select few could talk down to him, and they did so with hesitance. "Do you like it?" He ran a hand through the dyed hair, his fingers getting browned. "It's not dry yet, but I'll be damned if I am staying inside a room for another hour while there's a festival out here." He grinned, looking out at the grand hall before them. It wasn't as full as he thought, but the hour was getting late.


"I'm here to meet with an acquaintance. ." Viserys wondered if he should divulge his reasons for being here. Cayden was a mercenary, who'd sell his life to the highest bidder. But a sense of comradeship ship forced a sigh out of the Blackfyre King. "I knew Tytos Lannister fairly well before I left. He clung to my fathers side, like all the other leeches." Baelor, Vladan, and that oaf Manderly. "When I heard he died I rushed over to give young Tiber my sympathies." It was. . Not entirely true. To call it a half-truth would still go too far. "Westeros isn't safe for someone like myself, right now at least." He shrugged, leaning back as he glanced downwards at Cayden.


"So why are you here? Looking for something a bit more appetizing than a Dornish woman?" He joked, lightly shoving the man.


@Akio
Click to expand...
"After five years one needs a rest for adventure, besides I don't need to tell you there is a reason that so many mercenaries are here. Things are becoming chaotic in Westeros and my guess Tiber plans to go to war, keeping all this mercenaries long term would be expensive for only a self defense force with no one doing direct hostilities to him and tensions seem high between the Hightowers and Lannisters. Almost none of the houses of the Reach are here, they are probably afraid of the Lion." Now in his usual mood, all the sureness of his earlier conversations and trying to act the noble was gone, and like a sellsword he had his own rumors and gossip and he spoke plainly. He wasn't particularly loud, but he had already given up on sneaking around, after all the second Viserys called him out it was already impossible to stay hidden, so he might as well make a go of it.


When Viserys proclaimed the 'reasons' he was here Cayden raised an eyebrow showing he was not impressed. "Viserys cut the crap." He said his voice a bit lower, while the name Viserys wasn't particularly revealing because as much as he liked to think otherwise he was not the only one who had it, with some of the company in the area it was not something that he wanted to shout out. "You are the last man I would believe would be feeling sentimental enough to infiltrate a castle in the middle of civil war to give your sympathies to a man who hated his father so much he had his body thrown into the sea." Perhaps partly because of the story Tiber told him but he knew that offering his sympathies was not why the man was here. "I thought when you got here you were selling the golden company but now im not sure, what is it you want Viserys, your usually not one to risk yourself." He said his eyes narrowing, say you wanted about Cayden but the man knew people and was quite observant, Viserys would not easily lie to him after making such a poor attempt.


However any attempt he may have done to push for what Viserys was up to was blown out of the water when a beautiful woman walked up to the table. She was Dornish, that was impossible to miss. Everything from his confidence that hugged her shin even tighter then her dress, to the rich color of her skin proclaimed her so. Whats more he recognized her, though the years had been very kind to her, her figure having filled out to perfection and her face had only become more eye catching to the point it almost seemed to steal his breath away. He turned in his chair, looking at her and there was no doubt his eyes were on her, unashamedly glancing at the Dornish woman. She was different then the beauty of the Lions Maid, who had a more pure appeal wrapped up in a dress hinting to what was underneath. Her dress left little to imagination, a very free style of dress that fit the girl well. "This... Might be exactly what I need." Cayden thought, his grin becoming flirtatious. She had changed, yet he knew he had to. He was more mature, with a confidence in his eyes unmatched from before. By leaning back he revealed some of his powerful and scarred chest, his robe riding open slightly. "As the lady says I think you'll find few things as appealing as a good Dornish woman. May I present you Nyalla Gargalen of house Gargalen. Lady of Salt Shore." He said the word lady with extra emphasis showing he could see how she grew up since he left, and he approved. "She grew up with me in the Water Gardens when I was younger." He said to Viserys before looking at her again. "I have missed you." He said standing, towering over her being nearly 6 foot. "We should spend some time to catch up later." He said crossing his arms as his grin widened, his eyes still making no attempt to move from her.


@SirDerpingtonIV


@TheAncientCenturion
 
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Vladimir

​




"Please... Kill me.."


"What?"


"Kill me....!"


"Why would I do that? I have so much to le-"


"KILL ME!!"


Vladimir laid his eyes on the man, silently taking in all the festering wounds he inflicted. The prisoner was chained down to a large table, fit for a human body, who looked as though he had given up on life. Who wouldn't, though? The man was clearly suffering, being chained to this table for the last 17 days or so. Vladimir, however, didn't take notice to the man's suffering and continued to thoroughly rub horse shit into the open cuts, using gloves of course, and all the while feeding him different medicines. He was currently conducting an experiment with new untested medicines in a different chamber, since he didn't want the stench of horse manure in his own.


"Don't focus so much on the pain, child... focus on humanity!" Talking in such a cheerful voice, the prisoner looked at Vladimir as if he grew a second head. "I, Vladimir, Maester of Dreadfort and Bringer of Medical Hope! Thank you for your brave sacrifice.. Humanity and I are in your debt." Vladimir soon after placed the mouth area of his mask on the whimpering prisoner's forehead, as if to kiss, before placing the gag back into his mouth so he wouldn't disturbed everyone with his cries for help. He stood from where he was sitting, going over to the bowl of water to wash off his hands after taking off his gloves.


"Now, if you don't mind, I have sick and wounded people to tend. Have a good day." Vladimir turned and walked out the chamber, the guard closing the door behind him. "I hope he'll be okay for another month or so... such an honorable man." He spoke to no one in particular, walking through the halls of Dreadfort at a steady pace.
 
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TEN TOWERS, LIBRARY TOWER


POV: Siegfried Harlaw


He watched the waves out of the window, they had been sweeping him away from reality for quite some time now. He found himself thinking of Ashara, his little sister who had been missing since the incident Where is she now? With her she had taken a valuable gift. One that could have made powerful allies, the Valyrian Steel sword Nightfall and ancestral blade of House Harlaw, to set it apart from the other blades like it, it had been made with a moonstone pommel and she has stolen it from me... Siegfried loved both his sister and mother much more than he had ever loved his father, he didn't even think about his older brother. I will need to punish her he continued, it was not something he wanted but he knew many more situations were he felt this would come when he is king. The reason he was in the library of course wasn't to read, but to draw plans for the Iron Fleet and it was something that Siegfried underestimated. Despite the difficulty he had already drawn up the new flag ship, it was to be the biggest flagship in the history of the Iron Fleet, armed to the teeth with Spitfires, Ballista and the best crew he could find... Iron King he had labeled it though he had half the mind to pick another one, mayhaps he would before its construction was finished. Siegfried not only wished to rebuild the Iron Fleet he wanted to improve it, both in numbers and quality.


But he would have to save these plans for when Harron returned with the wood which in honesty could take a while. In the meantime... Siegfried turned from the window and walked towards the staircase, Would these books make good sails? He wondered as he walked down the stairwell. He opened the door to see the keep, 50 of his best men were armed and ready to go which pleased Siegfried, he stopped and looked over them before starting with a booming authoritative voice "You may be wondering why you weren't chosen to go on the raid? Well let me tell you, with the Kingsmoot drawing near we will need more men, so I decided to travel the Iron Isels for support. Champions and backers is something I need just as much as the Wolfswood and you men are coming with me to get it?". Siegfried always thought he was an awesome speaker, but he often repeated things and fumbled over his words, sometimes even saying a lot while actually not getting a point across. " First stop is err the Pyke, that's where the Greyjoys and Botleys sit... Don't worry too much about the Wynches but if things don't go as they should I suppose we could pay them a visit too." He began to walk towards the front gate, the iron born forming a sort of skewered line behind him before it was opened.


In the port was a traditional long ship, he would be modest in his ventures at least until the moot It will give us what we need he thought as him and his men boarded it, there was already a small crew aboard it that was readying for departure. "Alright then! Let's go secure that crown!" Siegfried shouted before letting out a haughty laugh.
 

The Rock


The Black Dragon
​



"Yes, it's a bit insulting that Lord Lannister wouldn't consider hiring the greatest Free Company in the world if he planned to go to war," Viserys remarked, feigning hurt. The war was the reason Viserys was here, but he didn't know how much he could tell young Cayden. The younger man wasn't exactly someone Viserys thought would spill his secrets, unless of course he found a faction to his liking. 'And that would cause some real issues.' He declared himself king but thus far it seemed like Westeros was ignoring him. It was fine for the Blackfyre king, let them ignore the coming storm.


Cayden's abrupt change in tone took Viserys off guard. As did the story of exactly what Tiber Lannister did to the old Lion. 'Perhaps I misjudged him?' Viserys would think about the Lion of Lannister another time, but the red snake was now his number one concern. He let the smile remain on his lips but a growing anger boiled underneath him as Cayden blatantly insulted him, insulted his deeds over the last thirteen years in the Golden Company. The little rodent, the green boy thought he could lecture an experienced dragon? Viserys continued to stare down at him with mock amusement. "You're a curious one, little Cayden." The Blackfyre King said, his voice too growing lower, more threatening as the Red Snake accused him of cowardice and scheming.


"Perhaps you forgot exactly where I lead from, or the Battles of Golden Crossing and the White Field?" Both were the highlights of Viserys' career. He personally led a cavalry charge into the flank of an armored formation of an untold amount of sellswords and levies in The White Field, where after three hours of hard battle, they routed the enemy. Viserys himself saw much action and earned his greatest scar on that day. For the young Dornish Prince to accuse him of anything else made his lips curl downwards. "Choose your words very careful. Your Red Spears might find themselves in a heap of trouble."


He was on the verge of telling Cayden why he was actually there, words about to leave his mouth. But a woman came out of no where, just in ear shot from his earlier comment. She and Cayden knew each other, apparently. This put Viserys on guard, were they being watched? Did Cayden have his agents all over the Rock? He felt a sudden rush of panic at the thought. 'Clever little shit.' "A pleasure, Lady Gargalen. I am Ser Viserys, a friend of Cayden's from a distant land." He bowed, his right arm folding over his chest. "If the two of you desire some time to catch up, don't let me interfere." He gave a polite but knowing smile. "I believe my sister was looking for me, regardless."


@Akio


@SirDerpingtonIV
 
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