• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

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

Kuvira Targaryen - Kings Landing

​



@Hypnos @Red


Kuvira glanced over the finances of the city for a moment as she listened to her uncle carefully. With all these problem rising there was no more time to be indecisive. Looking to Baelor with a look of frustration she spoke simply "Keep the Mud Gate open, but be sure that the most veteran of the Goldcloaks be used as outriders to assure we know at least a day before hand when Braedon will arrive. Only when we know he is almost upon us will we brick up the gate. As for the captain of the guard, replace him with any man you see most fit, but be sure his men do not see his removal from his position or from the city, we do not need such a man starting a rebellion within our very gates because he is upset his toy has been taken away. Once he has been removed from the city, replace him and be sure that all of the Goldcloaks know who really pays them. As for the loan, get what you believe the city requires, and if you do all of these tasks to my liking, an accident may befall the current lord of Rosby, and a certain man with silver hair may inherit the title".


Giving her uncle a grin as she continued walking deeper into the keep she began sending servants all over, making sure that everything would be prepared for her journey to Casterly Rock within the next few hours. "Albert, I would like you to find another member of the queensguard, whichever one you fancy and we shall bring him along on our journey to Casterly Rock". Kuvira gave her order to Albert and closed the door to her chambers, preparing herself for the long journey ahead, having her handmaidens bathe and dress her. It was only hours later that she emerged from her chambers, looking as meautiful as ever, proceeding to where her carriage was waiting. Having nearly four dozen guards as well as Albert and whichever queensguard he chose she came closer to her uncle, handing him a piece of parchment. "You will rule the Crownlands so long as I am gone, do not fail and Rosby will be yours" she spoke silently into her uncles ear, acting as if she was giving him a hug goodbye.


Climbing into the massive carriage Kuvira spoke sharply to the driver "Go, now" she said as she relaxed in her seat, surrounded by her haindmaidens who made sure she was as comfortable as possible. 'A little time away from the city should give the rats just enough time to think themselves free to do as they wish, only then can I catch them and end their treacherous lives' Kuvira thought to herself as the carriage slowly made its way out of the gates of Kings Landing, her journey to the wedding finally beginning.
 

Ser Albert Lannister

The Estranged Lion
​




"At once, your grace." Albert responded just before the Queen closed the door to her chambers.


Albert left the guarding of the Queen's chambers to two knights under House Targaryen as the Queen prepared for her travels. Albert had his own preparations to make.


It took hours, but he was now officially inducted into the Queensguard, and was now wearing their iconic armor. He took this chance to acquaint himself with his seniors. Of the six, only four were in the White Sword Tower: Lord Commander Gale Corbray, Ser Varic Celtigar, Ser Rodrik Myatt, and Ser Kristoff Upcliff. No disrespect to Ser Kristoff, but the other three were all renowned warriors in their own right. To be standing among them was already a great honor.


Seeing that he's just a new member, Albert thought it wise to just relay the Queen's orders to the Lord Commander and wait for his decision.


"I see." said Ser Gale as he paused for a while. He looked at the other members of the Queensguard before speaking again. "Then you'll be accompanying me, Ser Albert. It looks like the Queen specifically asked for you to come along. Ser Varic will be in command while I'm away. Work with whoever the Queen has left in charge of King's Landing." he ordered. The rest of the Queensguard just nodded in approval.


With everything settled, the Queensguard left one after the other to tend to their duties. Albert looked at Ser Varic with admiration as he exited the room. That was the Ser Varic. Many said that he was a knight without equal in King's Landing.


Before he realized, Ser Gale gave him a pat on the shoulder as he smiled to the newest member of their brotherhood. "Now come, Ser Albert. We have work to do."


"Yes, sir." Albert calmly replied as he also left to prepare for the long trip ahead of them.


Hours later and the Royal entourage was ready to be on their way. Ser Albert and Ser Gale were on their horses, riding in front of the Queen's carraige. The Queen had a few words to say to Lord Baelor before she stepped into her carraige, and with that, they were off to Casterly Rock.


The trip was starting to become dull and there were only a few ways to make long trips like these less boring. One of them was talking. Albert decided to strike up a conversation with his senior. It wouldn't hurt to get insight from someone who is the wiser and more experienced.


"So Ser Gale, given that Ser Varic is probably the best warrior in King's Landing, who's better between you and Ser Rodrik in a fight?" Albert asked.


Ser Gale laughed before replying to Albert's query. "It'd be Ser Rodrik, lad. Even you could probably best me in a fight. I'm not that good with a sword as I used to be."


"Playing coy, are we?" Albert said with a smirk in his face.


"You're a funny one, lad." he said as he smiled. They both paused and slowly, the smile on Ser Gale's face faded back into a stoic expression. "Listen Ser Albert, for people like us, members of the Queensguard, it isn't important who's better in a fight. What's important is to be able to fight when the Queen needs someone who can. We'd give our lives if we have to."


Albert took the man's words to heart as the pair of knights were then silent again, riding in front of their charge.
 
Harrenhal


( Part II )


"You dare harm my daughter."


"No, my king. I did no such thing. Your daughter tells falsehoods."


"And now you accuse her of lying?"


"My king, please..."


"I will have your head."


Aerea's eyes opened. Just as they did, the door to her cell opened- and a decrepit little man waddled in. He had a large chain around his neck that looked quite heavy. I am surprised his skinny neck can handle such an accessory.


Behind the ol' maester, was Ser James; as gallant as ever.


"He's here to look at your wounds." He said. Aerea noticed that he hadn't shaved in a while, as a shadow of hair had begun to form around his chiseled jaw.


His perfect jaw.


Aerea sat up on her stone slab and her feet fell to the rocky, cold floor. The maester smiled a pink smile. The poor creature has no teeth.


The old thing said something, but it was barely audible. "Put out your hands, he says." Ser James repeated the elder's command. Aerea did as they said. She put her two hands out for the maester to have a look at. Her looked at her left one first, which was the one that stung her the most. He fumbled with her hand for a bit before closely inspecting the black an' brown slit going down the palm.


"Hmm." He made a sound.


Aerea watched him inspect her hand for the most part, however, her eyes drifted away from her hand and landed upon Ser James. He looked at her as well. She could see a hint of pity in his eyes. Could there still be a chance that he'll help me?


Ser James had been very rough with her as of late. But, so had she. If Aerea was to ever get out of here, she'd have to rely on someone such as Ser James.


I have to make him mine again...





"It will 'ave to come eff." The old creature said with another fleshy smile. Aerea's eyes grew. ... What?


"What do you mean?" She asked.


"Yer hand."


Aerea pulled her left hand away from the maester. He looked at Ser James and Ser James gave a nod. "I'll go get me tools then." The maester spoke, before he begun to slowly waddle out of the cell. Aerea lifted her legs up and wrapped her arms around them.


"No..."


Ser James looked at her, not exchanging one word to her.


"No!"


Aerea had started to panic. I don't want to be a cripple. No. I won't let them take away a part of my body. They've already taken too much!


"James, stop him." Aerea pleaded. She felt as if she was in a dark pit, filled with only despair. She would end up dying in this castle.


"I am sorry, my princess." Ser James whispered as the old creature, carrying an array of tools and devices. He flashed another smile at Aerea, which made her shiver. He shambled over and knelt down at the edge of her bed of stone.


"Give him your left hand." Ser James spoke, still quietly. Aerea shook her head. "No. I won't. I rather let it rot and fester..."


"Give him your left hand, Aerea!" He repeated. He was no longer quiet. He his voice was filled with aggression.


"NO!" Aerea yelled.


Ser James moved, swiftly, from his position at the cell door- to Aerea's bed. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pinned her against the wall. Aerea couldn't move, whatsoever. The old maester pulled at her left arm, causing it to extend.


She tried to pull it away, but Ser James would not let her do such a thing.


"STOP!" She screamed.


"STOP, PLEASE!"


Aerea screamed as loud as she possibly could. But it wouldn't do her any good. She had no friends her, not even the young servant girls who attended to her the day beforehand. Her left arm was being held in position by Ser James, as he also kept her pinned against the wall.


The maester took out a strange looking device she had only seen in Grandmaester Vladan's chambers, once.


It resembled a saw, but, she wasn't sure if it actually was one.


"Please, don't. I'll do anything. I'll give you anything. Pleeeaaaseee." Aerea begged. Tears had began to rinse her cheeks.


The maester handed Ser James a vial of creamy white liquid. "Give 'er this." His gums flapped. Ser James opened the vial and forced it down Aerea's throat. Milk of the poppy.


"Please..." Aerea slurred.


The milk's effect almost immediately set it. She could feel herself getting dizzy. And as soon as she felt herself getting dizzy, the maester put the saw to her wrist and began to hack away. She could feel it. She could feel the blade gnawing at her bone. Yet it did not hurt.


She blinked a few times. All she saw was red, red, and red. Blood poured out, and her left hand had seemed to just... float away.


Aerea awoke to a woman sitting at her bedside.


"What did you dream of?" The woman asked, her voice was somewhat shrill.


What did I dream of?


"... I dreamed of a stag. An old stag." Aerea said, calmly. Her eyes were still adjusting to the sunlight peering through the cracks in the walls that surrounded her.


"Why a stag?" The woman asked.


"He haunts me. He always visits me at night."


The woman looked away and then back at her. "Why does he come to visit you?"


"Because of what I did."


Aerea's eyes started to swell with tears. She didn't like to think about the stag. It was her deepest regret. All I wanted was a throne to sit on and call my own. A war was the only way I could get such throne. Firstly, my father had to die. Then my sister. Then I would by my own some. A queen.


"My poor princess." The woman cooed.


Aerea looked at her and realised it was Lady Maeve. Maeve's face was as wrinkled as a month old fruit. Aerea tried to move away from the old crone, but she was already right next to the wall. The lady of Harrenhal caressed Aerea's cheek, as to dry it of tears.


"What did you do, my sweet?" Lady Maeve asked, in an almost sinister tone of voice.


Aerea looked up at the ceiling and let out a large sigh.


"I told my father that he touched me when I didn't want him to." Aerea croaked. Lady Whent raised a grey eyebrow, as to ask who Aerea was talking about.


"I had no ill will against Ser Osmund Baratheon. He seemed like a good man. But I had a plan. If he died; House Baratheon would rise up against my father- and my sister."


Aerea smiled slightly.


"My father would perish, as would my sister since she was so loyal to him. And the people of Westeros would deal with House Baratheon. I would be the next in line to The Iron Throne. I'd be the queen of The Seven Kingdoms..."


Aerea began bawling her eyes out. I shouldn't of done such a thing.





Lady Maeve stood up and looked down at Aerea.


"Ha. And to think I had almost pitied you. You are as conniving as all Targaryens are, even more so!"


She moved towards the door and looked at Aerea one last time. "I'll leave you to your stump, my little queen."


She cackled, before closing the door.


Aerea, at first, didn't acknowledge what she said. Until she looked at her left arm and the bloody and bandaged appendage at the end of it.


Aerea opened her mouth and screamed in horror.


I am a monster.
 
The Snake and the Falcon

​



The spearman launched a snake-like attack. Trevir stopped dead in his charge, having already been prepared to do so, and slapped at the spear’s shaft with his sword as it stopped just before his face. He had to get in close, spears were far less effective close up. Something he’d been drilled into remembering since he could spar. Cayden expected that much, he was 3 years Trevirs senior but seeing his movements he could tell he was as skilled as any man he's ever faced. He found his blood pumping as he stepped back a single step, using the force of the deflection to spin his spear around in an low arc as his feet, his spear blindingly fast. He knew if he could impede his mobility then he would have a chance to wear his down and his spear moved too be caught easily as his spear swung quickly in a series of low arcs at his unarmored feet to force him back. Trevir stepped backwards a few paces as the spearman tested his footwork. Under normal circumstances, he’d be able to block or otherwise keep himself moving where he wanted to go. But this man was too fast for that. He just had to slowly give some ground and see what he could do to reverse his fortunes. A warning swing with the sword would do nothing, his opponent was out of range and the snake knew it. Rather than push his advantage Cayden actually pulled his spear back, regaining a distance of about ten feet or so as he narrowed his eyes under his helmet. This man has fairly decent footwork, a lot of knights ended up tripping while going backwards in unstable condition in the blood and swished dirt of the melee field because they were too top heavy in their armor but he seemed to have no problem with that. “Well this is about time.” Cayden said outloud, reaching for his helmet and pulling it from his head, carefully watching Trevir to make sure he would not take advantage of the sudden hitch in his stride. “Trevir Arryn your skill is indeed as they say, even if you spent most of this melee hiding behind your companions backs.” He said with a roguish smile. Cayden was handsome, sun kissed skin of someone used to the sun, dark complexion revealing him as a dornishman if his fighting style hadn’t already. “If we are to duel then I should introduce myself. I am Cayden Martell, Prince of Dorne and heir to house Martell. I have spent the last 5 years in the disputed lands so I doubt you’ve heard much of me.” He said nodding towards the man. Nevertheless Trevir without a doubt heard the name. The Viper of the Sands, the Basilisk, one of the most dangerous men in all of Dorne. His skill and his somewhat wayton sexual appetite as well as his appearance were well known and he spent some serious time in the red keep from a young age in the company of the Targaryens. A man of some renown, his revealing set the commons into an uproar, Cayden Martell had returned to Westeros and many of the commons screamed their favor as they looked on what would likely be the most intense fight of the melee.


Trevir allowed his opponent the grace of removing their helm. He didn’t recognise the face, but he knew the name. This would definitely be an interesting fight. He almost wished he didn’t have his armour on, but removing it would take too long. He’d just have to fight with it on and let the Dornishman have the clear upper hand on agility. “I can’t exactly help it if nobody wanted to fight me. But this… this will be fun.” He laughed again and slowly advanced, shield ready to snap to wherever it was needed. Just before the range of the spear, Trevir halted and started edging around the outside of it. He’d let Cayden take the first move again. If spears were good at something, they were very good at stopping someone moving into your space. In the back of his mind, he was processing various ways to mitigate Cayden’s mobility. Cayden chuckled, his spear almost touching the ground as he kept aimed low for now, under where Trevir could reach with his spear without some strain and leave him open to be run around by the quicker opponent. “Whether or not this will be fun, depends on what you can sh-” Suddenly without warning he struck mid sentence in a way to hopefully throw the warrior off as he suddenly fliched his spear upwards from where it was aimed, with a screech of metal it slid off the shield high seemingly at his face but was just trying to force him to block his own vision for a moment as Cayden suddenly stepped on the opposite end where Trevir was edging to his left side, twirling his spear with him so the shaft was striking high at the back of his helm with two hands on his spear. Feinting low and aiming high he struck out with dazzling speed, his spear almost seeming to bend with the sudden adjustments in his spears aim as he sought to keep him out of range, his spear like a striking snake going for eyes, throat, armpits, and low to his legs and between them as Cayden swiftly moved to the left, not even breaking stride as his spear flashed out, putting the sun behind him to shine in Trevirs face if he tried turning to face him. His opponent being in full armor limited his options so he would take every advantage he could get.


Trevir’s sword flashed up as he flicked his wrist to deflect the sudden blow to his face, and he rotated with Cayden as the shaft flicked around and so nearly made it to the back of his helm. Instead, Trevir had managed to move his shield over in time to catch the shaft on its edge. He stepped forward quickly, his sword flicking out to try and ward Cayden from trying that any more. Cayden had easily moved away, and was now jabbing his spear out rapidly to keep Trevir back. It didn’t even occur to Trevir that the sun was about to be in his eyes; he was too honourable to consider that his opponent may try that. He couldn’t keep fighting like this. His opponent would outlast him, he needed to take some risks if he wanted to get in close. He stepped forward more aggressively, shield arm tensed to move wherever the spear would be, and sword carving a short arc through the air towards Cayden’s knee. Any injury he could do the Basilisk’s mobility would count doubly. While Cayden waged a ceaseless offensive he was always on the lookout for Trevirs counter attack, with his expertise he doubted he would be able to lead this offensive for long. While outside the arena for now it may look like Trevir was suppressed it was even worse for him inside it. As he looked at Cayden his entire body was framed by the sun, his spear reflecting blinding light as it flinched out of the glare. Yet he didn’t miss Trevir slicing at his knee and in the glare pulled the single foot back so it only missed by inches, his spear swinging at his knee on the side of his sword hand to try and force him to pull his shield over his sword against the glare as he kicked against it, trying to send Trevir off his feet in the moment when old strength ended and new strength had yet to form to change the direction of his sword hand not yet formed, his dull sandy armor hard to see against the arena and the glare. Trevir couldn’t see properly, and his stroke had passed through the air where he’d expected a knee. Damn the sun. He hadn’t considered that not everyone likes being quite as fair as he did. Still, you got nowhere whining about it. He’d learned that from Gelgin’s, ah, unique parenting style. He caught sight of the spear flashing for his knee joint. Must have been expecting a shield to come across. Instead, he started to raise his leg ever so slightly to catch the blow on his greave. The impact jarred his leg anyway. Damn, the blows weren’t just quick, they actually had some force. More than just testers, then. Either way, he was off balance, and the sudden impact he’d felt on his shield didn’t make matters better. His one grounded foot slid back a little awkwardly, then his right leg planted and he pushed off it. The foot wasn’t directly on the shield, but he could still catch it off the ground and maybe put his opponent on the back foot for once. At the same time, he withdrew his sword back to his side with a slight cut at hopefully some area of Cayden’s body. He needed to get himself out from the sun, and getting his foe off balance was the first step to that. Up until now things could have been considered to have gone perfectly in Caydens favor. However his spear hitting the greave when the beginning of things suddenly becoming less clear. While hitting his leg instead of his shield probably hurt Trevir more it meant his foot wasn’t firmly planted on the shield which made him slightly off balance. When Trevir pushed back he let out a slight cry of surprise, stumbling back and unable to stop himself lest he put himself directly into Trevirs counter attack. Nevertheless the blow smacked lightly against his leather armor and rips causing him to lose some air, making him wheeze for a moment and become even more off balance but he rigidly struck out. His shaft smashed towards Trevirs outstretched hand to smash his fingers while Cayden put one firm foot down and stabbed at his face plate with as much force and speed as possible to force him to flinch back hopefully and get him some room to breath in conjecture with the first blow, if not the situation could reverse itself quickly. The gambit worked. He could hear the results of it coming into effect. He made to skirt around and forward a little, putting Cayden out of his advantage with the sun, but instead felt a bludgeoning force to his fingers. Seven hells, he hadn’t seen that one coming. The sword came a little loose, but he managed to hold onto it. He did see the next one, a hurried stab with the spear directly to his face. His weapons were out of position, so he had no other choice but to duck back a bit. Out of immediate danger, he lightly danced around to Cayden’s left, keeping his shield between that spear and himself. “A Martell son, whose symbol is a sun, using the sun to his advantage. Sounds like the start of a great poem, don’t you agree?” He bantered. He had to admit, Cayden was growing on him a little. Reminded him of an older, less handsome him. He grinned and chuckled again, eyes still focused like a laser on the form of his opponent.


Cayden smirked at him, his helmet still lay discarded, in truth he needed the protection for his head less than he needed unimpeded vision and it gave Trevir a look at the full range of his facial features. On his face lay a sure fire confidence but also a tone of respect for his opponent. Cayden has used small ground tactics to win their first exchange but Trevir had managed to force him back and stay on his feet, Cayden found himself actually having fun. “No matter how high the Falcon flies, the sun always rests above its head and blinds it all the same of those who dare look at it. Maybe it's your keen eye sight that harms you more then foes on the ground.” He teased as he turned with him, he could feel his ribs smarting slightly from the blow as he used the Arryns own symbol against him sparring with words as well as blade. “But I’m also a Viper so all your armor makes biting you slightly less convenient… Even if you are slow.” He bantered back grin widening. Trevir laughed again. There was confidence on his opponent’s face, but also respect. If he had his helmet pried off right now, there’d probably be the same on his own face. “Someone should be writing this down. High in the sky, the falcon can watch on, out of the snake’s reach. Just waiting for the right moment to snatch the viper in its talons.” He took another slow step around, his leg and fingers in a dull pain. He couldn’t let that get to him or disrupt his focus. Had to stay on his game. He wanted to cast a look to see how his comrades were doing, but that would just distract him. Cayden snorted, feinting a step closer to just put him on guard again only to draw back. “Then my job as the Viper is to bring you down, be careful when you strike because that's when I will as well.” He said his words somewhat joking but also serious, they both knew his best opportunities to strike were when he did, to hit the joints of weakness so cleverly sought in his armor. He suddenly started circling him quickly, his feet moving in a quick sideways motion as he went to get around him, trying to out maneuver him covered in full plate by using his superior speed and agility. Trevir recognised the warrior’s meaning in those words, grinning and restarting his laugh. There was a reason he was called the Laughing Knight. Because he had a charming laugh, and he laughed often. Regardless, Trevir made a brief attempt to keep up with Cayden’s movement. Not even close, the plate armour was weighing him down too much. He’d just have to try and keep himself not facing into the sun again, and facing Cayden. A difficult task, but a crucial one. He’d nearly had it the last time that happened. “The falcon can take it, but the snake is more fragile a creature.” Once more, the words applied to the fight. Cayden wore less armour, and had to rely more on his speed. Trevir, on the other hand, may be able to weather what it took to get inside the spear’s range. Trevir angled his next pace forwards a small amount, seeing if such a move would draw Cayden’s attention or not. Any reduction to the distance would help him to snatch the snake more effectively. He couldn’t help but stop his pupils from contracting a bit at his words, indeed he, the snake, was more fragile the Trevir was in full plate even if he was many times quicker and right now he lacked his poisonous bite. Not only that his weapon was dulled for the melee, meaning he couldn’t bleed his opponent through small wounds. Only a decisive blow could cease him the day which would be harder for him then Trevir. “We will see.” He said sliding his foot back, his spear held higher now, almost to his shoulders, as he planned to go over his shield if he had the chance.Trevir nodded slightly, his helmet shifting with it. “That we will.” He raised his shield slightly, while keeping not so high that it would begin blocking his vision. Last time, he’d been letting Cayden take the initiative. This time, he’d try it the other way round. Trevir took a quick step forward, sword taking a relatively controlled swing at the spear to at least vaguely attempt to knock it away. He’d try and pin the spear somewhere with a shield, but that damned spear was like the tongue of a snake. Extremely difficult to catch.


Cayden didn’t hesitate with his motions, he was an experienced fighter, fresh 5 years of combat instinct taken from the sands of the disputed lands he caught the blow on his spear head, the clang of metal on metal echoing as he slid back, spinning his spear in front of him as he started moving back to the minimum distance he could reach with his spear, hoping to maintain distance. Trevir continued forwards, trying to press Cayden backwards. He launched a series of quick, rapid attacks from varying directions, testing Cayden’s defensive prowess. His aim alternated between the shaft of the spear and Cayden’s knees, mostly, although some other targets got thrown in for good measure to keep Cayden on his toes. For the first time since the start of the battle Cayden felt himself starting to get pressed. Trevir was advancing without pause, quickly for a man in armor. Cayden always prefered being able to attack, both in tactics and his own personal style so he couldn’t help himself getting slightly frustrated and what was worse he could feel himself slow by a fraction. He had been fighting since he entered the arena and now his body was starting to react. While he was still noticeably faster than Trevir he had indeed slowed and now was getting pressured to hard to easily move to the left or right to retake the advantage of the sun. Caydens spear spun in dizzying arcs of intense precision as with both hands on the spear he spun and blocked with the shaft and head as they as the traded blows, in constant motion in an effort to keep up momentum into order to block the blows raining down on him. He slapped away a blow to his knees with the shaft only to be forced to flinch back as a blow at his face nearly struck him, then suddenly his backwards momentum stopped and suddenly he felt himself back into a wall, they had reached the end of the arena and his eyes widened in shock as he cursed himself for not paying attention to the limited boundaries. Trevir saw his chance to end the battle was in his grasp in a single moment and moved for to cleave his sword down to try to take down Cayden in one blow, to cleave down his spear and bring the sword hard against his shoulder and end the battle in a single blow. Cayden threw himself to the side at the same moment actually at the swords the descending blade. There is a loud crack of splintering wood as Cayden spear slams into the sword just before it can cleave into his head while Cayden rolls after flinging himself to the side, the spear shaft splintered but because of the angle he managed to his it not quite yet broken. His breath was coming to quick and he was starting to pant to try and catch his breath. He needed to end this battle now. Trevir found himself advancing without pause now, he could see Cayden was getting tired and he doubted his spear could take much more. If he broke that spear then the battle would be good as won. He advanced, throwing blows around his shield which he used to defend himself, relying on his armor to tank as much damage as possible. Cayden was on the defensive now, Trevir while still being slower had a literal iron clad defense and now Cayden couldn’t risk using his spear to block any blow with the shaft or it could break in his hands. His spear flashed out, blocking blow with as little direct contact as possible or dodging entirely only to feel himself continuing to slow down, and Trevirs blade shearing closer to him with every passing moment with any occasional counter hitting his armor or shield.


Trevir pushed him and the Dornishmans blocks and dodges were getting more desperate, as he moved another pace forward to try and close what was left of the distance, when suddenly his target suddenly closed the distance, Cayden had stepped in and grabbed the wrist before he could gather much force. He realized Cayden had let go of his spear and his eyes widened. Cayden had decided it was impossible for things to go on like this, at this rate all that approached him was defeat as his own bod would fail him at this rate. “I need to change things now.” He thought to himself as he blocked one more blow and suddenly threw aside his spear aside and closed the distance, closing the distance barely stopping to think how insane closing the distance to this experienced warrior could be. He caught Trevirs sword arm as it descended, keeping his blade high while his hand flashed up to grab his helm on the underside edge and pull it down to cover his view for a moment. Trevir reacted quickly and shoved his shield into his side but the blow was hasty and confused and Cayden let go of him to allow himself to be carried with it so it didn't break anything, though his side flared with pain causing Cayden to grit his teeth as he drew his daggers, moving swift to the Knights side. His foot lashed out and hit the back of Trevir’s knee causing him to buckle as Cayden lashed out with the hilt of his dagger, slamming hard into the back of the Knights head causing him to fall to his hands and knees for a moment. Trevir felt himself fall on all fours, his helmet so heavily askew that gravity actually carried it off his head as his head fell forward. His ears were ringing and his vision swam, he had not expected to be blinded in such away or the Dornishman to abandon his spear to allow such a blow. He could hear Cayden approach to finish it and almost subconsciously lashed out with his sword to force him back in a sloppy turn on his knees.


Charging Cayden even before he fully found his footing, feet scraping in the dirt, he lashed out again with the blade cutting close to his face. Even as his vision started to clear he pushed Cayden, abusing the fact his weapon now had the superior length to force him back even as his vision started to reasert itself. However a noisy snap and a familiar voice screaming in pain caused him to do something his father would have been furious to see and for a split second, in a way almost impossible to notice from the stands his eyes flickered from the fight to see his friend go down to the black lion screaming, causing anger to shoot through him. For others it might have been impossible to miss his opponents split moment of inattentiveness but how could he miss it when he was right in front of him watching so carefully. He was not a knife fighter primarily like his sister Arianne and was considering ways around his sword when for a moment he seemed to freeze as his attention flickered. Cayden heard the scream but he didn't even glance nor was he kind enough to let this opportunity escape him. He slid down, his foot moving back in an arc to press behind him on the ground for propulsion as he swept up a handful of dirt and used his back foot to lung at Trevir, throwing it directly into his face. The Knight let out a cry of pain, squinting tightly as he swung his shield where Cayden had been. The shield suddenly filled Caydens view and while he fliched back he felt a irriestable force slam into his upper body and while his flich back helped him avoid to much damage to his face and getting his nose smashed in from the frantic blow he was still knocked on his back as all the air in his lungs left him, the dagger in his right hand where the sheild struck his arm first even going flying out of his hand. His vision swam only to clear with a burst of pain as Trevir blindly stabbed downwards to cause him to regain his focus. The sword had hit his armored him and had it been sharpened might have gone through the leather and given him a nasty, if none fatal cut and even now left a nasty bruise even when curshioned by the leather. But now his shield and his sword were out of position as Trevir still squinted, trying to see him clearly. With herculean effort he pushed his lower body off the ground in a way that would have been impossible if he had been wearing plate, he moved with great flexibility and his feet shot up to Trevirs head, his body forming a L laying back first on the ground as his legs pressed against the sides of his neck and head, pressing against his now uncovered head hard as Cayden twisted him to the right. He pulled him hard to the left and caused him to stumble and despite his efforts to keep his feet fall as he was inflicted with a sense of vertigo as the force of Caydens entire body pulling him, the weight of his armor, and his offset balance from his not completely stable footing as well as the pain from the heavy blow to his helmet as he crashed into the ground stunned as he lost hold of his sword as pain once again flarred in his fingers as his body hit the ground. Cayden turned his body with him, having let go once he was certain he was gonna fall and half scrambling and half rolling, he found himself on top of the young Knight, his dagger hovering over his eyes when he brought his hand down towards his eyes with brutal force, stopping just before he scewered him. Trevirs eyes regained focus as he realized the position he was in even through the dust in his eyes. Caydens weight and knees on his arms making it impossible to strike him even if he wanted to. “I yield.” He said after a moment as he realized he lost.


Cayden let out what sounded like a sigh of relieve as he rolled off him, taking massive gulps of air as he tried to take a moment to recover enough to speak. At any rate he knew while he won't the fight he lost the melee, now with the adrenaline of the conflict leaving his system replaced by hurts and wounds as if Trevirs yield had been a trigger word to let go of his tight hold of his nerves. He doubted he could overpower some Fleabottom boy with his first dagger, nevertheless another experienced armed warrior. “I yield.” He said from the ground just loud enough to be heard in the silence of the black Knight finishing the last of the fighters in the field and the end of their fight which lasted slightly longer than the duel Hightower precipitated in. Cries of praise, groans of disappointment, and a thundering roar of cheers filled the arena as the melee all but ended. As Cayden lay on the ground, the sun warming his skin as he started recovering suddenly someone stood over him, the very Knight he defeated now blocking his light. “That was a sneaky move.” Trevir said glancing down at him, even if he had lost, disregarding the final blow he had obviously taken far less damage, his armor protecting him from the worse of Caydens offensive. Cayden let out an exhausted chuckle, exuberant he won the fight regardless and feeling a healthy measure of respect for the man above him. “It worked did it not, I pulled you from the sky.” Cayden said continuing their banter from the start of the fight. Trevir snorted and offered his hand, his buddy was already being taken off the field when he got up and sent a glare at the black lion he decided to help the man who fought him find his feet. Despite his last move he felt a great respect for him and had enjoyed their banter and the battle. He offered his hand and Cayden seemed slightly surprised but reached over and took it to stand, nearly stumbling from the pain of his hip but with his help just managed to while the Commons roared their favor as the fighters helped each other off the field and it would be some time before people forgot the battle of snake and falcon, where the falcon broke the snakes fang only to be pulled from the sky only for them to rise together signalling all but the end of the melee, even if neither one of them took the crown. Cayden flashed a grin at the Commons as they go closer to the stands but his eyes sought his family, favoring them with a smile. “I'm home. And I got a lot to show you.” He thought to himself knowing they would find him soon as they left the stage, he had missed them dearly and part of the reason he had not wanted to lose is he wanted to prove that separation meant something, as if proving his time in Essos wasn't a waste. Cayden glanced at Trevir. “You know initially I came alone and don't have a maester.” He admitted as he kept a hand on his shoulder to steady himself. Trevir smirked, feeling a little better about his loss seeing his condition. “I'm sure we can find one.” He said leaving the roars of the melee behind them.
 
Roland Wilds - Casterly Rock - Melee Pit

​



Roland whistled loudly at the man that stood over the Hightower, the knight of the vale turning to look at him just as the blunted blade crashed into his helm. Stumbling to the side the Vale knight swung wildly upwards diagonally only for Roland to simply lean to the side to avoid the strike by inches. Seeing how the dornishman and Trevir were obviously going to tire themselves out on each other Roland gave up on giving the crowd a true showing of his skill and instead decided to give them the brutality that the younger mens fight lacked. Stepping into the mans guard Roland struck out with his shield only for it to be blocked and Trevir's friend to be sent to his back. Watching the knight roll quickly to his feet Roland used the opportunity to unstrap his shield from his arm, allowing it to fall to the ground with a soft thud in the dirt.


Using his now freed left hand Roland would raise his visor just enough to reveal his lips, spitting at the knight in front of hims feet. This of course had the exact effect Roland was looking for, angering the knight and causing him to rush forward as adrenaline pumped through his body from his new injuries. Moving backwards on pace with the enemy knight Roland would simply deflect the mans strikes and dodge them with the smallest amount of space between himself and the blade as possible, simply to embarrass his opponent. Waiting for the man to swing himself tired a bit Roland would dip underneath his strike, placing a hand on his breastplate and pushing hard to create some distance between them as the man stumbled backwards.


It was at this point, his enemy breathing hard and obviously injured that Roland would raise his sword to the side, before releasing it from his grip. He was here to prove his dominance, and if Trevir and his dornish lover wished to try and steal the show, then he'd have to simply steal it back. Looking to the crowd for a moment Roland could easily see that the crowds attention was split, half watching Trevir and Cayden more intently, and the other half watching him. Rushing forward to quickly get within reach Roland would maneuver around the mans strikes, sending mailed fists crashing into his helmet repeatidly every time he found an opening. Eventually Roland took his opportunity and simply grabbed the man by the wrist, spinning around behind him and ripping his own sword from his hand before crashing it into the back of the mans head with a thunderous clang of steel. A deep dent now formed in the mans helm he fell limp, crashing into the ground as Roland look over to witness the end of the other fight.


Starting his walk towards Cayden he would abruptly stop only a dozen or so feet away from the dornishman as he yielded. Frustrated he would not be able to defeat the final opponent Roland would toss the blunted blade he had stolen, the castle forged steel landing only inches to Cayden's right as he lay on the ground. Once again Roland would raise his visor only enough to allow him to spit in Cayden's direction, seeing no honor in the man as he had used tricks to win his fight and gave up before he could have a lesson in honor beaten into him, a dornishman through and through. Walking towards the stands where Tiber sat, Roland would simply stand before the nobles, awaiting his prize.
 
Kings Landing


POV: Kay Baelish


Finally some silence, those drunken fools don't know when enough is enough, Kay thought to himself as he entered his private office, it was one of the few rooms that were closed off. It was underground so there was no windows, the walls were of stone and the floors were of wood, candles dimly lit the dark room placed symmetrically on the wall in the four corners of the room facing each other. In the middle of the room was a large wooden desk that had brown bags tied in strings along with unbroken letters scattered across the table. There was also a pile of blank parchment with a pot of ink and the quill beside it. The slightest sigh escaped Kay's mouth as he pulled out his seat and proceeded to sit on it, like the other furniture in this establishment it was of quality fit for a lord, the chair itself was made of wood exported from Qohor while the maroon cushions were filled with feathers and created with fabrics from Myr.


Let's get a bit more light in here shall we? he asked himself as he lifted an unlit candle from the end of his desk and placed it down in front of him before he ignited it with a spark. He slowly pushed the candle to his right so he had room to work, he picked up one of the letters and broke the seal, just as I had hoped he thought to himself happily, the letter detailed that a convoy of merchant ships would be arriving today and it was carrying the goods that he had ordered in advance. Kay had a small grin on his face, in this establishment he had made sure there was an abundance of rooms that he could use for multiple things such as providing a place for someone to stay or places of storage. He brought a piece of parchment towards him and picked up his quill before dipping it in the ink before beginning to write.

Dear Commander of the Goldcloaks


This letters purpose is to bring light towards the current situation, I believe you would be interested in the stockpile of food and crops I am gathering, your men will never go hungry if you would be as kind to spare but a few of your men to protect my new establishment.


Signed Kay Baelish.


Once completed he wiped his quill clean of ink before folding the parchment, he chose his personal seal, a light green wax with a mockingbird, I will have to pass this along to Christina (the majordomo of the Kings Landing branch.) The next letter he opened was different from the rest, the writing was all untidy and scribbled, some of the words were misspelled even but Kay managed to piece it together. As he continued to read it he became more and more intrigued, he felt his heart speed up a little, interesting he thought, he placed the letter back down on the desk before folding it and placing it in his cloak. It seems about time I move again he thought as he rose from his chair and slid it underneath his desk before putting his cloak over his shoulders, he picked up three of the tied brown bags for good measure before placing them in his pockets.
 

Varn Tyrell

Shaking his head toward Lord Gawain, "No need. The birds have been sent with his lordship's seal. If you'd prefer to gather them yourself, well - you're free to ride back to Oldtown, but I suspect your place is here as it stands." Should have been doing your duty instead of stalling. And only five thousand between the two? That seemed a lowball estimate in all honesty, seeing as Highgarden alone had five thousand at the ready.

"Now, if there's nothing more to be discussed, we shall adjourn here. You can rest assured Lord Arren will hear all that has been said." He gave a curt nod toward Maester Jarvas, who transcribed the proceedings on parchment. "He will elect who has command of the vanguard, baggage train, reserve and so forth. This is only the beginning, my lords. We will pay these lions with the same respect they've shown my brother." As he stood up, so did Ser Collyn and Ser Russal, who helped the maester to his feet as well.

@Archon

@WanderingJester

@Lancelot

@Savagai

Bannen

An intense ringing filled his ears as he lay sprawled over the hard cobblestones. The pain was excruciating and seemed to pulsate throughout his body like pins and needles. Gods. Was that his leg? No, it was coming from above, gnawing at his senses. He probed his head with a shaky hand and returned with a foul wetness. It held the color of black in the dimness but there was no question he was bleeding.

Although Bannen tried moving his limbs, it proved too much of an effort. Instead he craned his neck for a better view of his surroundings. Two damp walls stood left and right about ten feet in each direction, and past his toes he managed to make out a corridor through blurry eyes. I'm in an alley. A faint glow crept from the end, possibly a wall sconce jutting out somewhere. That same darkness hid their faces, those bloody scrappers who took him for a fool. A drunken fool. Those were always the easiest to sweep off their feet.

If he could crawl...No, he wouldn't make it ten feet let alone hobble his way back to Cornfield. The swineherd took a hard swallow and tasted bloody spittle in his throat. You can yell. Just call out.

"Help!" he cried. "Somebody...down here!" The words bounced off the stones and formed a soft echo. It was loud enough he supposed, but would they hear at this late hour? "Please! Seven...save me!" No one answered. The gods seemed content with abandoning this sorry sack of ale to the shadows. And who could blame them? If he went to the marketplace like he was supposed to, none of this folly would've transpired.

Then, the faintest patter of feet broke the silence. Could it be a shaggy hound come to sup on his bones? Whatever it was, the sound ebbed closer and closer. "W-who goes there?" He could trace the outline of a figure about five feet tall, a slender thing at that. It was right in front of him now, sending over a whiff of sea salt and fish.

"Are you him?" came a youthful voice.

"Am I who?"

"Are you him?" He could tell he was dealing with a child, a boy mayhaps nine or ten.

"Mm-y-yes. It is me! Here I am..." Bannen had no idea what was going on, but better to be someone sought after than forgotten and left to rot. "Liss-listen boy, you gotta get me out of here." He reached toward the boy's shoulders; they both tried to boost him up without success.

"Blast damn! I can't do it..." He said in a tight voice.

"Wait here," the boy replied. He ran off the way he came, returning with a two-wheeled cart. And then they were off, a crippled drunk being carted off by a fish boy.​
 
Highgarden


POV: Gawain Hightower


Damn fools the lot of them he said to himself in anger, his fists tightening around the edge of the table, the last thing this realm needs is another bloody war he said to himself before looking towards Varn once more. "Yes my place shall be here, I shall send my son to gather the forces." he said glancing over at the two of them, Bedivere nodded his head in acceptance while Tom Costayne had a nervous smile on his face. 5000 was an estimate in Gawains part, in honesty it was left to his son Lyonel to decide on how many were called to march, his wife and her House would most likely be unhappy with him for aiding the Tyrells, they always had a disliking for them but ... Every man must do his duty, And the Tyrells are Lords Paramount of the Mander he reminded himself.


The three men sat back and listened while the court was adjourned before they rose almost simultaneously to make way for the door, Gawain left the room conflicted, confused, unsure in what he was going to do... he stopped outside and as he did, so had Bedivere and Tom, Gawain placed a hand on his sons shoulder, the cold metal of the plate fought against the warmth of his hand, "Gather as many men as you see fit boy, and do so with haste, I want our men to join the host sooner rather than later or I fear our good lords minds will be poisoned even further." he said in a lowered voice, he disguised his talking by giving Bedivere a few pats on the back.


Highgarden


POV: Bedivere Hightower


Bedivere had payed close attention during the council yet he did not speak a word, nor did he want to, he was a knight not an adviser it was not his place. He simply nodded when appropriate My father has a good heart and he means well, but war is unavoidable at times like these. Bedivere was surprised when his father said "Yes my place shall be here, I shall send my son to gather the forces." he had not expected for his father to move that far forward, and to choose him to lead the troops? A honour he thought as he nodded his head in recognition. Once the courts was adjourned he rose from his seat gracefully alongside his father and Tom Costayne, the three of them made their way out of the room together but soon came to a sudden halt. His father placed his hand on the plate covering his shoulder and said to him "Gather as many men as you see fit boy, and do so with haste, I want our men to join the host sooner rather than later or I fear our good lords minds will be poisoned even further." As he finished he gave Bedivere a few pats on the back.


"I will not disappoint you father." he said sternly as he turned away from them.
 
Location-The Neck


Sitting quietly in his chair, Artillus Reed watched the performers and musicians perform another rendition of the War of Conquest. Around the room, which wasn't really a room, so much as a large tent, the other guests were likewise unamused, many of them still wearing their armor from the most recent march. As the performance finally drew to a close, the performers received scattered applause, but most of their audience looked at them with annoyance. Reaching into a nearby bag, Artillus removed a small bag that jingled with the sound of coin, and tossed it at the performers feet. As the lead man moved to take their payment, Artillus turned to some of the other nobles at his side, speaking quietly.


The marching column had come across the troop just after breaking fast that morning. After many weeks marching through rough terrain, Artillus had decided his forces could use the distraction, and enjoyment, before returning to their homes. The troop had performed first for the entire force, then privately for the assembled officers and lords. Both times, Artillus was less than impressed with the shows.


As the troop left the camp, Artillus and the rest of the lords and officers, set about readying the column to march, 3000 men soon moving at a brisk pace for the final stretch of the return march.


Several hours later, as the sun was finally setting in the distant horizon, the leading elements of the column came in sight of the familiar swamp lands, and two hours later, Artillus and the other nobles, close on his heels, entered the vast courtyard of Moat Callin. Dismounting his horse, Artillus handed the reins to a stable boy, one of many who rushed forward to deal with the recent arrivals.


Around the courtyard, chaos reigned as servants and guards moved about in a rushed pace, trying to sort out temporary living accommodations. The other nobles and their contingents would remain one night, sleeping in warm beds for a change, before setting out on their own for their own lands. Quickly ascending the steps to the keep, Artillus let out a deep held sigh as he walked into the familiar entry hall, spinning in a small circle taking it all in, before heading towards his personal quarters. He had ordered a feast to be held before the other lords turned in, and Artillus wished to be clean before it started.


As servants began filling a bath, Artillus quickly scribbled notes down on a sheet of paper, he handed it to a servant to take to the Maester, before entering the adjoining room.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Baelor Velaryon


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


A smirk formed upon the lips of Lord Baelor Velaryon, his face lightening as he looked upon the parchment that he had been proffered, his violet eyes scanning over the intricate nature of the lettering. Warden of the city was an honour that he could have done without, their hours were long and time scarce, yet nevertheless it still amused him that her grace had selected him for the position over her plethora of other advisors. Gelgin Arryn would be the logical choice with his forces making the bulk of the Royal army, or mayhaps even the Grandmaester whom had written books on warfare in his youth and was known as a master of strategy, yet instead Kuvira had chosen her uncle to take the command of the city. An odd sort of pride filled the Master of Ships, mayhaps his niece had more Velaryon blood in her veins than he had initially given her credit for.


"I shall make haste to carry out your wishes your grace, I am sure the council shall be pleased to hear your verdict on these issues " He bowed stiffly, standing to attentions as she departed. Were it up to him he would have had her accompanied by more men, some of the Driftmark garrison, though it seemed that she would be travelling light, less likely to be ambushed certainly though since the most direct route to Casterly Rock would be through the Riverlands caution was advised. "I shall pray for your safe return your grace, may your trip be fun and fruitful." As the carriage left his sight his face turned into a scowl, pray he would not though he did hope that Kuvira's womanly charm would be enough to dissuade the Lord of Casterly Rock from taking up arms with her enemies. "Bring ink and spare parchment to my chambers and send for Ser Alyn of Hull" he commanded of the servants that remained in the castle, most still in shock of the Queen's sudden and unexpected departure "A bottle of Arbor Gold would not go amiss either, it is to be a long night it seems" the servants scurried off to follow the man's orders, the silver haired Lord allowed a moment to think in silence before himself returning to the quiet comforts of his office.


It was not the largest of rooms, nor the grandest, though it served its purpose well enough and the sea blue and silver of the upholstery reminded Baelor of his home upon the isle of Driftmark. He began to put quill to parchment, scratching out one of the many letters that he would send that night, earlier that evening he had planned to retire to bed by the hour of the bat, so that he may begin the survey of his fleet upon the morrow, though with the queen's departure his duties were now of paramount concern especially since the queen had given him the go ahead to carry out many of his plans.


"Lord Velaryon, I have come as instructed" Baelor looked up from his writings to see a handsome young man in his early twenties, with hair of silver-gold. Ser Alyn of Hull was possibly the favourite of Baelor's bastard children gthough he had yet to acknowledge the lad as his own) and the boy had grown to be as fierce a warrior as his uncle had been, serving Baelor as the captain of his guard within the city and a close confidant.


"I have a task for you" Lord Baelor looked back down upon his writing, beginning to scrawl the name of his good-son, Illyrio Rogare, who was currently looking over the Rogare banks for his nephew whilst he was not of age. "The completion of this task is of vital importance by order of the queen herself. You are to gather the most loyal men of my garrison and station them inside of the old inn on eel alley, I am told it is a favourite haunt of Lord Celtigar of the City Watch. I want you to escort him away from the inn under any pretence that you deem acceptable, and take him down one of the many back alley of the city. Whilst there I want you to slit the man's and dispose of his corpse, you are o leave this inside of the body in case anyone is to find it" He handed him a finely crafted dagger, it's pommel the head of a griffin, reminiscent of the sigil of House Connington of Griffin's Roost. "Is that understood?"


Alyn merely nodded, giving Baelor a smile, the boy was efficient that was for sure and loyal to a fault, if only his true born children were the same "Oh and send this to the rookery, I want it delivered immediately" He passed him the note he had been writing, sealing it with the Royal seal of House Targaryen. Kuvira had asked him to borrow only what money the city needed and he was happy to oblige, patronage from the Royal family could do wonders for the Rogares and as one of their major stakeholders Baelor took great interest in improving the running a of the Lyseni bank.


Baelor stood, walking past Ser Alyn to the door "I expect good things from you Ser" he said as he left, making his way to the chamber of the small council "Ser Myatt" he called out to the Kingsguard on duty, with non of the royal family in the city the remaining kingsguard had little to do with their time, they should have been sent with Daenna across the Narrow Sea, or Aerea to Highgarden, though instead they remained, taking up space. "Send for Vladan and Lord Arryn" He paused for a second "Oh and which ever sod Manderly left when he fled up North, tell them that a small council meeting has been called, and that we are to man the city whilst her grace is off at Casterly Rock"


@TheAncientCenturion @Leusis
 
Harrenhal


( Part III )


"What's the matter, my daughter?" Maeryn The Mad said, with an almost forked tongue. Aerea never believed a word he said. He never spoke truthfully.


Neither did I.


"He hurt me." She sobbed in reply. She showed her father the bruise on her collarbone that she had given herself the previous night. Maeryn became red with anger once he saw the wound, supposedly made by Ser Osmund Baratheon.


"Bring him!" Maeryn instructed Ser Rodrik Myatt. And Ser Rodrik did as he was told to do. He brought an intoxicated stag to the throne room and pushed him to his knees. Ser Osmund was very confused as to why he had been stolen from his chambers and brought to The Iron Throne.


"My king, what ever is the matter?" Ser Osmund slurred his words slightly. He smiled at Aerea when he saw her standing there, clutching her shoulder.


He had always been kind.


"You dare harm my daughter?" Maeryn spoke softly.


Ser Osmund's eyes grew wide and he shook his head frantically. "No, my king. I... I did no such thing." He looked over at Aerea and caught her lips smirk.


"Your daughter tells falsehoods!"


"And now you accuse her of lying!?" Maeryn roared.


"My king, please..."


"I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD!"


Aerea's eyes slowly opened. She had lost count of what day it was. I've been here for too long. The day progressed like any other day here in Harrenhal. Her servants came, the tall one and the fat one, they bathed her and gave her slop for breakfast.


The fat one would always look at Aerea as she ate. That little bitch better mind her eyes or I'll claw them out.


As she thought that, her own eyes wandered towards her stump. She hated looking at it, as it drew tears to her pale blue eyes. It needs another change.


The servants left and the old maester replaced them. He would change her bandages and give her a small dose of milk of the poppy.


She would then lie in her stone bed for the rest of the day, thinking of days past. She would think about King's Landing, and Daenna, and Ser James. I want him to touch me, one more time. She needed him, not only so she could lie with him but also so she could escape.


Lady Maeve would oft come into her cell during the evening and read her a passage from a book of poetry. She'd then go on and on about how House Targaryen will never rule again.


I'll show you, you disgusting hag...


Aerea would get a piece of bread and then fall asleep, which'd finish off her day.


The next day, however, she didn't awake to two young girls- one like a tower, the other like a cow. She awoke to Ser James.


She looked at the cobblestone wall and did not see one ray of light peering through its cracks. It is still dark.


"Aerea..." He whispered.


She sat up and stared at him. He had been drinking. His stubble heavily showed upon his jaw. "Y-Yes?" She replied, her voice hoarse. She hadn't spoken much since her hand was sawed off. She did not want to speak.


He crawled onto the stone slab and sat next to her, a cup of alcohol in his hand. His left hand. "Aerea..." He repeated. His face turned to hers and his cold blue eyes pierced hers.


Ser James Thorne began to cry.


"I am so sorry." He said as he put his head on her shoulder. "I... I should of never h-hurt you." Aerea could feel her shoulder dampen with his tears.


He was crying like a child. This is my chance. "Then help me, my knight. Help me get home." Aerea's own eyes began to swell with water. She herself didn't know if they were real tears or not. She needed to cry though. She had cried almost every night, yet she needed to cry once more. She held his face in her only hand and he looked at her.


"Help me leave this place, p-please..."


Ser James stared at her for what seemed like forever, before he gave her a nod. She smiled at him, even though she was still producing tears.


"I will... Aerea... I will." James whispered to her, before putting his lips to hers. She didn't pull away. She wanted him. Their lips were enthralled with one another. He pulled off his armour and she slid off her dress.


"I will." He chanted, before lust took them both.


Aerea awoke and he was gone. The sun beamed heavily through the cracks in her cell's wall. She was naked and using her dress as a blanket. She stood up and slowly got dressed, all by herself. Aerea tried to ignore her stump as best she could. If I look at it, I'll cry some more...


She was sitting on the stone slab when the duo of servant girls came to give her a plate of, what looked like, muck.


Aerea ate it in silence, wondering whether what happened the previous night actually did happen. What if I imagined it all? What if I am going mad, like my father? Gods, please, let it be true.


The girls took their leave, and the maester soon arrived with a new set of cream coloured bandages. He washed her wound and wrapped it up. The old creature also checked on the cuts upon her right hand. He said that her right hand would need to come off as well, and when she looked at him, he laughed and said "it was only a jest".


Will you be laughing when I have a Targaryen soldier grab that chain off and hang you with it?


The maester left, laughing. And Aerea was all alone again. She played with the brown sludge on her plate. She wouldn't dare eat it.


I am hungry, but not too hungry.


Lady Maeve didn't come on this night. Aerea had no idea why. She laid her head on the stone slab and shut her eyes, before immediately opening them. The door to her cell opened and Ser James entered, outfitted with his armour and a rather large sword.


Aerea quickly stood up and looked at him. They looked longingly at one another before he opened his mouth.


"We are to leave now."


Aerea smiled a wide smile. She ran to him and hugged him. "Thank you." She said as he brushed her hair with his gloved hand.


"Thank you..."


Ser James led her out of her cell and through countless hallways. He was one step ahead of her, just to make sure no guard saw them. Aerea hated Harrenhal. Each hallway she ran through frightened her. The walls were black and crumbling. Aerea felt as if the castle was about to collapse on top of her. She was also scared of seeing the likes of Lady Maeve.


It soon hit her. He's taking me to Lady Maeve. Aerea remembered the way to the overly large dining hall in which she first met the crone.


No! NO!


Aerea wanted to stop running, but she couldn't. She was being led to the old bat, only to have another chalice of wine doused down her throat- or worse. Aerea clutched Ser James' hand as he dragged her through corridor after corridor.


"James..." She said, shakily.


He hushed her and pulled her through a dark doorway. She shook her head and started to breath heavily. She felt as if these haunted walls were closing in on her.


I will never escape.


She saw the door to the dining hall in-front of her. "No." She mumbled to herself. She shut her eyes and wished to be back in her cell, but, James didn't open the door to the hall. He instead led her down a stairwell where they entered a large courtyard.


She felt the air against her face, the fresh air. She also felt something else. Relief.


The courtyard was packed with several guards, but James managed to distract them by informing them Ser Warren had arrived and needed them in his chambers.


"Yes, ser." They all sang as they got up and sped off.


"We're almost there." He told Aerea as he led her through a doorway that led to another section of the courtyard.


There was a few guards here an' there, but none of them seemed to notice her. This seems too simple. James may of not have led her to the dining room, but he still could be leading her to another place in which Lady Whent resided.


But, no.


She was soon free. James killed the two guards at the main gate in a vicious sword fight, and then he opened the gate and pushed Aerea through.


He followed her through and close the gate behind him. He sheathed his sword and grabbed her by her right hand.


"We run until we can't see Harrenhal any more, understood?" He looked back at her. She looked into his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes...


She wondered to herself if she could finally trust him once more. She had betrayed him, and he had betrayed her. Perhaps we are even. Something was wrong though. She could still feel that sense of an overhanging dread. Would Ser James truly save her? Aerea was unsure.


"Understood." She said, her voice no longer hoarse. He smiled at her, and she smiled at him- and the two of them ran into the forest, in the dead of the night.
 
Seeing his condition once Trevir realized Caydens condition was more serious then he realized he offered to take him to the Arryn Maester on routine but Cayden refused for two reasons. He knew his physical injuries were a not the true cause of his bodies temporary weakness and he knew the methods of treating his condition probably better then most Maesters having spent years with it and trying to push the limits of it, this would not be his first time pushing him to the edge of his limits and nearly ended up hurting himself. The second reason was he knew the maesters of the Vale would be treating the wounded friends of house Arryn, mainly those injured by the black knight who had grown increasingly brutal by the end, his own injury was not permanent as long as he rested but he worried the snapping of bone he heard would not so easily heal. "I only hope none of them die, for Trevirs sake if nothing else." He could not say he knew the knights of the Vale well but he knew the pain of losing a friend, something he wished to spare the young knight as long possible if he could. He was good, but war wasn't just about swinging a sword and rarely did the songs tell one the true horrors of it. He was not fond of war, though sometimes he recognized its necessity.


He knew there was another reason he only said to himself, he had never expected to see his family at the Lannister wedding, originally the plan was double back to Kingslanding and make his way to Dorne to see them. If it had only been a few of them he might have thought it simply being Ari begging to go see a live tournament if she didn't want to fight herself. However it was as if the entirety of house Martell was assembled at the Lannister wedding which was something odd, other then Ari almost none of them had left Dorne. He had tried his best to keep close contact with his family, which he had managed to the extent of his abilities till he left his sedentary base to leave for Pentos then crossed the narrow sea, and even before it was impossible to convey everything he wanted to say in a letter and the same for them. He had desperately missed his family, but now he couldn't help but wonder what Elia planned to do. He walked, slowly as not to agitate the massive bruise on his leg, to the side where he last saw his family sitting. He knew they would be looking for him as much as he was looking for them. There really was a lot to talk about after five years. He noticed several eyes glancing at him, some were admiring lords and commoners alike, others were less friendly and strangely recognizable. He had not spent a lot of time around the Lannister camp, being only his second day here and the first he spent most of his time recovering from his exhausting ride. But now he recognized many banner and not from Westeros. "The Lannisters have prepared." He thought to himself as he realized that several of the Sellswords he once fought against now looked at him from every side. He straightened his back and met their gazes eveningly as possible when he met their eyes. He was no less to any of them though given his current condition he couldn't help but be grateful for the presence of the lionguard who prevented any of them from making a move, for now at least.


His search felt like it had been taking the nature of wandering as his search for his family dragged. He was debating asking when suddenly he caught vision of the house Martell gathering and started walking towards them almost by instinct. He could feel his mouth start to dry and his mind start to go blank even as he approached them. What did you say after five years? So much had changed in that time and they had lost a father and a mother in that time. He himself had changed and he knew they likely had as well. He who had once been so close to them felt for a moment a bit isolated as he walked to stand in front of them, his entire body tense as if he was about to run away or fight as his nerves probably made this worse then it had to be. He searched for his words for a moment, wanting to say something, anything to close the distance between them. "This is the last place I expected to see all of you." He said his voice a bit thick, layer with all the longing, the joy, and the sadness as now seeing his family without his fathers or mothers figure standing with him made him feel as if he had been struck. He swallowed, feeling as if there was a lump in his throat as he watched them, wanting them to say something but not knowing what he wanted to hear. He wanted to close the distance between them as suddenly all the tension and weight of five of the hardest years of his life came back to him yet he had no idea whether his family would accept him, had they missed him as he had missed them all? He looked for some sign on their faces, especially the older siblings, the twins, Elia, and Liana.


@LittleWolfie
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Celena Lannister


The Center Stands, Melee Pit, Westerlands.



​



With the last opponent yielding early and cowardly, the melee was over.


Celena had at least some hopes when watching Trevir Arryn fought the weird and foolish spearman, only for them to be dashed when it turned out the Dornishman employed some cheap trick by tossing a handful of dirt into his eyes. The Lion Maid sighed and shook her head as Trevir yielded and walked off the field. The mystery knight had fought through a dozen or so opponents it seemed and the crowd loved it. The other notable men, those from the Vale and the Reach, fought each other down so that the mysterious Black Lion had a pretty clear path to victory. Celena covered her mouth as another yawn escaped. In hindsight she probably should've entered the melee herself to alleviate the boredom, but she would correct the mistake with the joust. The Hightower boy had also been escorted/helped off the pit, after nearly losing his head to the side of one of the Arryn's Vale knight's shield. Now, as she watched, the Black Lion walked up to the main stands, expecting a reward. The crowd from the lowborn stands screamed and cheered, but the reaction from the highborn seemed more subdued.


While some of the ladies, like Kylie next to her, were swooning, but Celena could feel the tension in the air. Some looked at the knight fearfully, while others looked intrigued. Some of the Westerlords carried looks of disdain in their eyes, while some weren't even looking at the knight, but rather her eldest brother for his reaction. Of course, while Leanne bit her lip in concern, Tiber didn't appeared the least worried. Yet, it wasn't his composure that showed how he felt about the situation. Dozens of armed Lannister men had taken the field, from crossbowmen to Lionguards with Martyn at the front. They surrounded the Black Lion, and those with loaded crossbows leveled their weapons at him. The rest had their weapon in hand, including the Mountain Lion, and they watched the knight carefully in front of them. The Lord of Casterly Rock stood up, and clapped his hands slowly. Each clap resounded across the now quiet crowd, who caught on that this was more serious than just a melee that finished.


Celena watched as her brother and lord finished clapping, and spoke, "Very nicely done. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, your winner of this year's pit melee!" From the men surrounding the winner to the lowborn in the stand, no one made a sound. Celena shivered; even the gruesome victory at Tarbeck Hall had its cheers and jeers by men who hated House Tarbeck and Reyne, but the atmosphere here hung on anticipation and almost to dread. One thing she was sure though: if this was a long lost Reyne, he would not leave this field alive. Possibly the only person still smiling, Tiber continued, "Now, permit my curiosity, but would you do me the honor of removing your helmet good knight? That way I can properly reward you for your skill and valor on the field today, as well as attribute the proper glory to the right house."


Above Kylie's quick breaths, Celena could see her other brother stepping forward slightly to the Black Lion, and barely heard his low but deadly serious voice. "Helmet off. Now."


@Leusis


@Lancelot


@AnnoDomini


@Akio


@Fezzes (Just for reading if you'll like in your hiatus)


@Hypnos


@LittleWolfie


___________________________________


Rowan Tarly


The Meeting Room, Highgarden, The Reach.



​



Rowan Tarly watched as the Seneschal dismissed the room and rose to leave. Similiarly, the Lord of Oldtown quickly exited the room. He went around and gathered the map on the table with his brother, as their father and Uncle Erik and Uncle Luthor exchanged a quick word with each other before heading out as well. Following the trio plus Luthor Rowan, they left for various locations in Highgarden. As their father spoke, Rowan looked at Luthor. "Will you and Uncle Erik go back to Goldengrove now?" The young man nodded.


"Most likely in the morning, we only came down for the funeral and to let the Seneschal know about our conditions. Most of our forces are concentrated around Goldengrove and we need to link up with them." The two heirs grasped arms as they bid farewell to each other.


"Warrior keep you Luthor. I hope your ride is swift back home."


Luthor nodded, "Same to you Rowan, I'll see the two of you at the mustering fields." He nodded to Oswen and left with his father once their conversation was over. Joining their own sire, Luthor Redwyne looked to the two boys.


"I must be off back to the Shield Islands as well soon. Seven knows Little Helyon can command a fleet but he's still relatively untested in large scale naval combat. He should adapt quickly but I rather not risk it with a Lannister quick strike being quite possible against the weakened Shield Islands. Helyon, always a pleasure. 'Till we meet again, I'll wait for order then" He nodded to their father, before turning and leaving via another direction. With a wave, the Lord of Horn Hill began to walk in the direction of the main gate, to rejoin their men stationed outside of Highgarden's walls. Along the way, they passed many luxuries that the Tyrells enjoy in their seat. Rowan thought for a moment whether the time would come when the gold roses would trade all of them just for a few extra swords on the field. Still he shouldn't worry, they would have a chance now to gather a sizable force against the Lions of the West, as well as having coordination between the various lords enough to force a cohesive defense.


So why was there an increasing feeling of impending calamity in his chest?


@Jabroni


@Lancelot


@Savagai


@Archon
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Andar Royce - Runestone

​



Andar stood just outside of the gates of Runestone sat atop his steed, his personal guard and sons flanking him on both sides. "A lovely sight" Andar spoke with a jovial laugh as he looked out upon the sea of tents and soldiers moving about, getting ready to start marching. It had been some time since the Arryn's had called the banners of the Vale, perhaps just over a week, but Andar was a man who was always prepared for battle, and thus gathering his levies took little effort. The other houses he had sent ravens to however would take some time before they arrived, as after all they were not nearly as quick to rush off to war as Andar.


"Boys, I want you to stay here, look after our forces and wait for our allies, I will be journeying into the mountains". It was only a moment later that his eldest son attempted to speak, only for Andar to place his right hand over his mouth and chuckle before riding off through the camp. He did not need to hear the concerns of his sons, no, he was much too old to matter much anymore regardless, so if anybody was going to take risks it would be him. Riding right out of camp with a saddle pack filled with foods and his warhammer Andar would ride off into the distance.


It would be just over a day of hard riding before Andar arrived where he wished, leaping off his saddle as he stomped off into the woods. "Come out you stone lickers, I've got a deal you can't refuse!" he screamed as loud as he could. Soon after nearly a dozen men appeared from seemingly nowhere, mountain clansmen, all of them, each one looking willing to rip Andar's head off. One specifically however came close, obviously the leader of the clan "You came to the wrong place old man, and without your shiny iron suit too". "You ever heard of the Riverlands?" Andar questioned, as if ignoring the threats of them an in front of him completely. Taken back by Andar's question the clan leader simply stared for a moment in confusion before shaking his head no. "I heard its got a hell of a lot of food, plenty enough for you and every clan in this mountain to eat for the next hundred years". "If you're trying to force us to leave our mountains for these river lands, you're just asking to die" the long bearded man spoke, raising his battle axe slightly to show he meant business. "Force you out of these lands? No, I just came to tell you these Riverlanders insulted you and me, I just thought you'd want to hear and be pointed in the right direction if you wanted to pay them back for what they said".


Looking at Andar for nearly a minute in silence the clan leader slowly spoke again "What did they say?" he asked, looking back at his gathered warriors, each of them look somewhat angry at the prospect of some outsider insulting them and their people. "Well first off they think you're weak, and they think my people are weak, said they'd march right into these mountains and take all our women and fuck em till they're bloody. Hell, they're king, Walder Tully I think his name is even mentioned you by name, said you're the biggest bitch out of us all". It was at the mention of him personally that the man took a few steps away from Andar, pointing his axe at the old man as he spoke "We'll leave you old man, but only because your old blood might rust my axe, and so that we can get to these fuckers before you do, now get the hell off my mountain!" the man screamed before spitting on Andar's boot.


Holding back his anger and want to kill the wildling before him Andar would nod and smile, rushing off to his horse as if he was scared. Climbing back on Andar would start the long trip back to Runestone. His task accomplished he knew one small clan of likely less than a hundred people would be able to do much of anything to the Riverlands. However, Andar was only here to get the ball rolling, these clansmen had to know other clans and slowly this information would spread, the clansmens warlike nature and honor forcing them into engagements with the Riverlands to the west. It would be small at first, but eventually Andar felt that this would only anger the clansmen even more, driving them to larger and larger engagements until they were flooding into the Riverlands to slaughter their new foe.


Richard Crowl - Castle Black

​



Responding to the Lord Commanders call Richard would emerge from the mess hall with a large loaf of bread in his left hand, chewing on it as he approached. It seemed like there was a odd number of men volunteering to go beyond the wall, something Richard didn't find comofrtable. After all, he was a loner for the most part beyond the wall, and large forces were much too noticable for his liking. Sadly however he was in a place of high position and thus felt forced into following this group. Waiting for his commander to stop speaking Richard would approach slowly. Taking one last large bite of bread he would stare for a moment in silence as he chewed.


"So Tyrion, maybe we should just send out a smaller ranging party ahead of everybody else?" he asked, as if trying to be subtle in telling his commander thats what he wanted. "I mean, if you want to keep everybody together thats fine with me, more bodies between me and wildling arrows" he spoke with a soft chuckle before clearing his voice, realizing what he said was inappropriate. "I mean, more brothers to defend me of course".


Kuvira Targaryen - Casterly Rock

​



"What the hell is this!" Kuvira shouted as they came over a hill, now seeing the huge war camp surrounding the Lannister castle. "Do these bastards intend on joining this stag rebellion as well?" she questioned out loud, obviously outraged at the thought. "Oh, we'll see about that" she spoke, becoming much more quiet. Rolling through the camp in her carriage many soldiers simply stared, extremely confused as to why a Targaryen convoy had just arrived outside of Casterly Rock. Looking out the window Kuvira took note of many sigils, house Arryn, Martell, and Tully being among them. "Traitors" she whispered to herself as she stared at that ugly fish on its ugly banner. If Kuvira had anything to say about this wedding it would be that the Tully's who were here would not emerge with their freedom, they would be prisoners, used to keep Walder from aiding the rebellion.


This however was whenKuvira realized that the bitch Tiber was marrying was related to these rebelious fish. Knowing her numbers were not great enough she would simply have to wait until after the Tully family was out of Tiber's reach before taking them. The carriage coming to a quick stop and the door swinging open Kuvira would step out with haste. Hearing Tiber's voice in the distance and seeing the completely silent crowd Kuvira would approach slowly, eventually walking up the steps to reach the stands built for the nobility.


Roland Wilds - Casterly Rock

​



Standing in place as he was surrounded Roland was rather confused as to why Tiber was doing such a thing. This however was when it hit him, he was wearing the sigil very similar to that of House Reyne. Tiber had taken it the complete wrong way, what was meant to honor the Lannisters now seen as a threat. It was when Martyn stepped forward however that Roland couldn't help it, seeing the brute acting so serious like he always did amused him, and he chuckled softly. It was a laugh Martyn had likely heard a thousand times at this point and he could likely tell that it was Roland by now. Thrusting his sword down it sliced into the dirt and held firm to free up both of Roland's hands. Slowly and deliberatly Roland would reach up and remove his helmet, making sure he did not look threatening.


Revealing himself to the crowd he would smile, his golden hair flowing in every direction as it was no longer kept carefully braided as it usually was to keep it out of his eyes. A mist of sweat on his face he would raise his hands to his sides, as if shrugging as he looked at Tiber. "The sigil was meant to honor your house my lord, I was to be your Black Lion, to be the champion of your tourney as your brother refused to compete". Roland's words held no falsehood, he only meant to honor his liege as he was the one who raised his house to nobility once again.


@Red


@WanderingJester


@Hypnos


@Akio


@Lancelot


@TheAncientCenturion
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Celena Lannister


The Center Stands, Melee Pit, Westerlands.



​



Celena Lannister watched as her older brother on the field relaxed a bit, and the Black Lion removed his helmet, showing the dirty blond hair of one Lord Roland Wilds. She breathed a sigh of relief, as opposed to Kylie's badly hidden swooning next to her. Celena had remembered arriving through the gates of Tarbeck Hall and into the courtyard. She had hidden herself in one of the latter waves to rush House Tarbeck's seat after the gates had opened, and when she arrived at the courtyard, it looked like a scene from one of the stories from the Age of Heroes the septa at Casterly Rock told her when she was a child. Dead lions laid everywhere, both red and gold. At the center of the place, a bloodied Martyn pulled his broadsword out of a corpse and began limping towards the keep where the Lannister forces had already breached. As she walked closer, she recognized the fallen foe that her brother had struck down. The Red Lion, Roger Reyne, laid on the ground missing an arm and a hole in his chest, eyes staring up at sky and seeing nothing. One of the deadliest men in the Westerland had died at the hands of her older brother.


The Lion Maid would later speak with Ser Tidus about the fight. He was the only surviving Lionguard that witness that moment when the two lions clashed, and only because he was ordered to head the breach at keep while the rest of the vanguard fought the Red Lion and his men. Reyne and Lannister went at each other's guards and massacred each of them on either side, before turning on each other. Apparently the clashes of metals were so fierce it reminded the Lionguard of the Street of Steel in King's Landing, though even the smiths in the capital did not hit metal on metal as hard and as often as the two men did. The two wounded each other in turn, but neither could get an edge on the other. Utilizing a gamble, Martyn exposed his side in order to let the Red Lion overextend himself. The long sword of Reyne came down and would've taken off Martyn's left arm at the elbow had it not been slowed by the broadsword it collided with. In exchange for a scar still on him, Martyn turned and sliced downward, dismembering the Lord of Castamere before driving his broadsword straight through the Red Lion's heart.


Snapping back to present day, Celena watched as Tiber and many of the nobles relaxed, and with a wave of his hands the men backed off, each lowering or placing their weapons back in their sheathes. Martyn had put his sword away before shaking his head, and finally the crowd began to cheer. The smile on Tiber's face looked more genuine now as his fiancee was also put at ease. With a wave of his hand two servants carried an elegant chest out to Lord Roland and set it in front of him. The Lord of Casterly Rock spoke aloud, "We thank you for your efforts Lord Roland, and both myself and my soon-to-be lady wife were very entertained by your performance. We hope to see you at the celebrations later today and throughout the next few days. Until then, please enjoy your prize: 100 gold dragons." The servants opened the chest and a buzz came from the lowborn stands. The glow from the box gave out enticed them, as most of them likely haven't even seen a single dragon before, let alone 100. It would be more than any of them could earn in a single lifetime. Good thing Lord Roland was as prodigious a fighter as he is, else Celena might think some of the peasants would try something to get even one of the dragons inside that chest.


A slight commotion occurred near the entrance of their stand, and the Lion Maid turned only for her eyes to widen at the sight of white cloaks and armor. Only a single unit in all of Westeros had those equipment, and if the Queensguard were here...


Sure enough, in walked Queen Kuvira Targaryen, first in her name. Those in the stands nearby quickly bowed, which Celena and Kylie followed. She didn't wait to see what the reactions from the various factions in the stands were, as some of them were in open rebellion against the Crownlands. Still the Lion Maid could hear her eldest brother's voice as it drew closer to the Queen, and she saw from the corner of her eyes that Tiber had bowed gracefully along with Leanne next to him to the Red Dragoness. "Your Grace! My apologies for not meeting you when you first arrive. I had no news of your impending arrival, else I would've arranged a reception more befitting of someone of your stature. Please, will you allow me to escort you up to the castle myself?"


@Leusis


@Lancelot


@AnnoDomini


@Akio


@Fezzes (Just for reading if you'll like in your hiatus)


@Robyn Banks (Same thing)


@Hypnos


@LittleWolfie
 
Last edited by a moderator:
The Riverlands


All they did was run, and run, and run. Aerea hurt all over by the time they stopped by a cluster of deceased ash trees. Aerea collapsed by the base of one of the trees. She was panting, heavily. Gods. Ser James looked almost as exhausted as she did.


"I... I should of packed supplies with us." He said to himself through a long sigh.


"Do you have a canteen of water on you?" Aerea asked.


Ser James shook his head, but he then raised his hand and pointed at something through the trees. "The Gods Eye is a fresh water lake, we can drink from there."


Aerea became slightly confused by his words. "We're heading south?"


James nodded in response.


"Where exactly are we going?"


"I am bringing you back home, to King's Landing." He said, as he put his hand on the pommel of his weapon.


"Why!?" Aerea grabbed onto the grey wood from one of the ash trees and used it to help herself up off of the grass.


"I thought you wanted to go home." Ser James said, he was clearly a little taken aback by Aerea's change in voice. She no longer was talking like an old, sickly being.


I do, in a way. But King's Landing is not safe for either of us, especially with my sister there. "No. I want you to take me to Highgarden, that is where I was supposed to be heading before you captured me." She snapped.


Ser James' jaw dropped. "Highgarden!? That place is leagues away from here!"


"Yes, and you'll get me there. That is the least you can do."


"Least I can do? I saved you from your prison. I've already done plenty, princess!" Ser James said, mockingly.


"I-" Aerea stopped. She heard something. It wasn't the breeze, nor the rushing water. It was the gallop of horses. We're being followed.


"James." Aerea whispered.


"I know." He replied whilst unsheathing his weapon. He swung it around a little and went into a stance. He looked at Aerea and opened his mouth.


"Run."


"Where will I run to?" Aerea asked him, partially panicked.


"South. To where The Gods Eye becomes a river. I will meet back up with you."


Aerea did not reply. She swiftly turned around and begun to run, once more.


She ran, and ran, and ran. Through forests filled with different flora and past several decaying buildings that probably each used to be a farm.


She stopped running when she finally got the lake's shore. She fell to her knees on the sand and suddenly she was stuck in a storm of coughing and panting.


She flung herself towards the water's edge, where she dipped her whole face in. She drank more than her fill of fresh water.


"Gods..." She said to herself as she pulled her head from the water. She fell back onto the sand and laid there for what seemed like hours. Maybe I did, indeed, lie there for hours.


She felt herself fall into a light sleep. Her slumber was ruined by the sound of boots on sand. She sat up quickly and looked behind her. It was Ser James. His armour was covered in blood. He had his sword in one hand, and half of a dead deer in the other.


"You're back." Aerea said softly.


"I am. I brought food."


He sat down on the sand and took out a small dagger he had hidden in his boot. He began to skin the deer with his knife. "Do me a favour and set up a fire on that small hill there." He instructed her, his eyes not leaving the deer, or the dagger.


"Did you get rid of them?" Aerea asked. She was still fearful that they would send more an' more men to come and recapture her.


"I did." James spoke. He isn't looking at me.


Aerea didn't respond to that statement. She just stood up and walked up a small hill that was shielded from sight by trees and shrubbery.


She found an empty patch of dirt where she could, mayhaps, build a fire. Only, she realised that she didn't know how to make one in the first place.


"James, I... I don't know..."


"Seven fucking hells, I'll do it." He snapped. He ripped the dagger out of the animal's body and a spray of blood hit his face. The blood of the animal matched that of the blood on his armour. Wait...


Ser James walked over and pushed her aside. "Go find us some firewood." He said. Aerea nodded. "And don't go too far."


Aerea went off into the cluster of trees, by herself. There was plenty of suitable firewood on the ground around her, but she didn't bother with any of it. Instead, she sat on a small log and began to sulk. He didn't kill any men...


He went to them, told them that he had me and that he was going to bring me back. Those men look up to him. They would listen to him. He plans on bringing me back to Harrenhal. Perhaps he had the force go ahead of us and wait for us at the mouth of The Gods Eye.


Aerea continued to cry. Her tears hit against the wooden log beneath her. She held her head in her hand- her one hand.


He found a deer, killed it, and smeared its blood on his armour as to look like he killed those men. Aerea stopped and looked up. She felt as if the forest was watching her.


"No, Aerea. You sound like a crazy person." She whispered to herself, through her tears. She didn't want to believe her thoughts.


She didn't want to believe that Ser James was still against her. But, she couldn't help it. Was it all a big ruse? Did Lady Maeve ask him to take me out of Harrenhal, just to mess with me!?


"What do I do?" Aerea asked herself.


I can run.


Aerea gulped, before standing up off of the log. "Can I?"


-


Ser James sat in a small clearing amongst the trees. He had cleaned up a small patch of dirt for when Aerea came back with the firewood. His head hung low. He felt like crying, but he had cried too much as of late.


I killed them. He thought to himself.


He had come across a trio of soldiers, all on horseback. He had known them all. I drank with each one of 'em. We sung songs and laughed all through-out each night. They were my friends, yet I cut them all down so I could save her.


Ser James sniffed. He looked up at the night sky. It was filled with stars. "I hope you all are at rest." He said, whilst raising his fist.


Gods, help me.


He looked at the deer he had caught. It was a male one, a stag. He had seen it after he killed the last horse. It was just lying on the ground, its back half missing. It must of been killed by something else, like a wolf or worse...


He picked up the remaining half and carried it towards the lake, where which he met a sleeping Aerea. He hadn't finished skinning it, but, he didn't want to. He was sick of getting more and more blood on him. He picked up his dagger and threw it aside, out of his view.


He sighed.


A small breeze came through and the leaves on the trees all rustled. It would be autumn soon, and the cold winds will rise.


He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was undecided on what he'd do with Aerea. Would he take her to King's Landing, or to Highgarden? Maybe we can leave our old lives behind and start a new.


He loved her. She was a pain in the ass, but he loved her. Their relationship was a very dysfunctional one, but he wanted to make it better.


A large part of him wanted to fix up an old farm, marry Aerea, and settle down with her. But, he had a feeling she wouldn't be up for any of that.


Does she even love me like I do her?


James didn't know. He would probably never know. He had been beaten up by his own peers for loving Aerea Targaryen, and now he would be killed by any man wearing the colours of House Whent for loving her still.


I will die because I love that girl.


Another breeze came through, this one louder and more vicious. A storm may be coming. James shook his head and glanced at the stag.


I should skin the rest.


As soon as he took his eyes off of the animal- steel impaled the side of his neck. He gasped, as blood began to pump out. He fell onto the small area of dirt where he would've made the fire. He clutched both his hands against the hole in his neck that the weapon created, but it was too late.


He was dying.


-


Aerea slid the dagger out of Ser James' neck. A river of blood spewed out of the gash it had left. She didn't react. He fell to the ground and choked on his blood. He gargled loudly as blood continued to spray from his mouth and throat.


"I... I am sorry." She said. She dropped his dagger in the same place where she had found it. Ser James seemed to say something when he heard her voice, but she couldn't hear what that something was. She watched on as he lay there, dying.


The blood had stopped flowing after several minutes. Aerea was in a state of shock. She couldn't move. She just sat on the grass, staring at her blood-covered hand.


Red, like my hair.


Aerea looked up at his corpse. My knight. He had died right next to the deer he killed. Two kills: a knight and a stag.


Aerea stayed in a fetal position for about half an hour, before she finally stood up and shambled towards Ser James Thorne's body.


She lifted his sword out of its sheathe and held it in her only hand. It was very heavy for her. I need this to protect myself, if I am to meet the guards he sent ahead.


"Goodbye..." She said to the lifeless body in-front of her. Aerea walked away, whilst holding his sword. It was so heavy that she had to let it drag across the grass.


When she was several feet away from Ser James, she let out a cry.


Finally realising what she had done...
 
Ser Albert Lannister

​



They'd finally arrive at Casterly Rock. There was a vast encampment just outside the castle, flashing banners and sigils of many different Houses. From the Arryns to Martells, to the Tullys.


It wasn't long before Albert could hear his liege shout. Ser Gale and Ser Albert glanced at each other, both knowing how temperamental the Queen was.


As the caravan went to a stop, Ser Albert and Ser Gale quickly dismounted. Queen Kuvira quickly stormed off to wherever she intended on going. Albert looked to Ser Gale, only to see him nodding implying that Ser Albert should follow immediately while he settles their entourage.


Albert quickly removed his helmet, revealing his long, blonde hair, and walked behind his liege.


Albert was feeling a mix of nostalgia and disgust as he followed behind Kuvira. He still couldn't stomach the fact that he was in this place again. Albeit a mask of cheer and glee, Casterly Rock and its lord held darker secrets. He held his helmet with his right hand, and his sword's hilt with his left, and marched behind Kuvira, befitting that of the Queensguard.


Right off the bat, they were immediately greeted by his cousin, Lord of Casterly Rock, Tiber Lannister. Albert couldn't conceal an expression of disdain on his face, making him quickly regret taking his helmet off. He kept quiet, slowly containing his disgust. After a few seconds, Ser Gale caught up with them and stood in attention as well.
 
The Riverlands





Dorian, vice commander of the personal unit of Cayden Martell now found himself starring at a strange sight. Three bodies lie before him, wearing the colors of house Whent as well as three slaughtered and partly eaten horses. His scouts had come across them, warned by the snarling of wolves feasting on a free meal and had driven them off. "You haven't moved any of them?" He asked in a tired tone, turning to the scout who had first come on the scene, Orion his name was if he remembered correctly. "All like this, what's more there are two sets of tracks leading to the south, one so faint I could barley read it but the other more recently made with the first few steps with blood splattered around them." Dorian glanced to where the man pointed and approached, kneeling in the grass while making with careful certainty to desturb as little as possible. He was a fairly experinced tracker even if he was getting along for his age and he could easily identify two distinct set of tracks walking away from this massacre. "Both were in quite the hurry." Dorian murmered to himself, they had hardly concealed their presence when their feet tore at the ground in their haste. He found himself growing annoyed. Their had been to many interruptions in following his Lord Cayden. The captain of The Rising Sun was reluctant to set off with no protection with rumors of pirates in the seas around the Crownlands, forcing him to hire guards. Then multiple delay on the roads plus their general slow pace meant they were far behind. Still this was not the normal delay, to find three corpses of landed guardsmen so far from Harrenhale was an oddity. None of them were looted and whoever took the time to kill them slit the horses throats. They were partly savaged by breasts but without a doubt there was sign of blade work here. His curiosity battled with his desire to catch back up to Cayden but in the end he sighed and decided to check it out. "You did well to bring this to me." He said to Orion who nodded.


Before he followed Cayden to Essos he had been sent as the leader of the guards sent to join him once it became apparent he had run off to kingslanding and later his letter was one of the primary reasons his father had decided to let Cayden stay when he heard Dorian had observed he was learning a fair bit in the capital. He was already advancing I'm his years, closer to his 60's then not these days and he had learned to pay attention to his instinct, and the strangeness of the scene made him want to follow this, even if it delayed them. "Besides there is no way we can catch up at this point, what's a few hours later." He couldn't help but think to himself as we went back to his guard who stood mounted in a near by clearing, waiting for him. "My men with me, we may have a hunt on our hands. Orion go back to the unit and send our best trackers after us and allow the rest of the men to rest. But keep their guards up. It seems the war has already started." He ordered following the path into the woods.


The trail was fairly easy to follow, straight with no attempt to alter it and not much attempt at subtly. It was if they had ran flat put the entire time like the stranger himself was behind them. "By the time we catch up to them they'll probably be exhausted." Calling the Red Spears trackers had been a precaution but overall useless, a blind man could follow this trail. They had closed the distance and by now he could see the Gods Eye. The tracks had led right to the lake and in the somewhat moist land around it was even more starkly clear. It lead to a small hill and now he edged his men to be cautious. Some of them were annoyed chasing shadows as they called it but obeyed. Dorian slowly crept up, disturbing the shrubbery as little as possible with his men behind him. He swung around one bush, sword in hand as he peered around only to find another corpse. He sighed and crept close. This man died when something, probably, he thought as his eyes following the drops of blood to a dagger, that small blade. However something else caught his eye, unlike the others his sword was missing and what's more the footprints, far more distinct when he first saw them made their appearance. Possibly the same person, dragging something along. The blade? It was a thin if crooked trail. He followed it, he doubted she would get far how she was. He turned the corner, with the deep caution of an old soldier and hardly making a sound, wondering what he would find without having the slightest clue what lay at the end of the trail was far more then he realized..


@TheFordee14
 
Last edited by a moderator:

King's Landing





Cethann Celtigar
​




The brutish Commander of the Goldcloaks was strolling through yet another alley way, his goons marching behind him loyally. The Grand Maester was ordering the noble around left and right, causing the Goldcloaks much grief. Already they needed to post ten men all day and night at the Mud Gate. No one liked it being walled up, and it was even a shoddy job. The Grand Maester insisted that it was they who built it, to save the Crown some dragons. On top of that his boys out in the Crownlands were coming back with gruesome stories to tell. Of massacring peasants left and right who wouldn't give him It was one thing to terrorize the population of Flea Bottom, the whoresons were worthless. But to aggrivate some snot nosed lord? Even Cethann knew better. And now his men were telling him they were killing two or three peasants everytime they went out to collect crops.


It was only a matter of time before the greybeard Vladan came down on him for that. 'Braedon can't get here quickly enough.' His boys were the main defense of the city, so he had some leverage over the man for the time being. But Vladan was calling the banners. Already a force of three hundred mounted knights from various houses came at his command, led by Daeron Stokeworth. 'A bloody I'm uncultured.'


The knights would leave soon, but what worried Cethann was the day that levies outnumbered his Goldcloaks.


The musings of the lord were brought to an abrupt halt. His daily routine, a few drinks and maybe even some warm company at the finest 'inn' on Eel Alley. It was no more an inn than Cethann was a proper lord, but the public didn't need to know that. Kay Baelish, the owner, regularly allowed for more pleasurable activities to take place behind closed doors. Gambling was also very big here, bigger than anything Gin Alley had to offer. Cethann grinned deviously. "Alright, let's make sure order is being kept!"


He rounded the street corner and pushed past the oaken doors, inhaling the musky, moldy, and revolting scents one would expect. Cethann and his boys first took a seat at the bar, grinning at a woman as appealing as spoiled milk. "A round, lovely Mare, for me'n the protectors of the queens peace!"


"Aye, you'll be paying still, Lord Commander."


He opened his mouth and chomped down hard on the air. "You're saltier than an Ironborn's I'm uncultured. Someone start a fight?"


"Nay," She sighed. "Tis Miranda. She's been missing for weeks now." She turned around, giving the three goldcloaks and their captain pints of brown ale. "She was a sweet thing from Lys, but I fear she ran off."


Cethann nodded, "If we find her we'll let you know."


Mary smiled softly, "And for that you lot won't pay for the first round. Only the first round."





The Red Keep





Vladan
​




Vladan sat in the small council chamber, looking across at the only other person in it. Baelor Velaryon. An old dusty and vulgar man who fed into Maeryn's worst attributes. It was a constant battle for Vladan, trying to pry the two apart. The old maester blamed Baelor and his side of the family for most of the corruption in poor Corbis, but naturally the bastards raised around the only trueborn Targaryen man had infected him with their ilk as well. Vladan could forgive the man, if only because his blood was in the darling children Maeryn left behind, but he didn't trust him. Sooner or later Vladan would have to propose that Baelor be relinquished of his responsibilities. 'He is an old man, after all. Someone better could take his place.' Lord Redwyne instantly came to mind, as did Lord Hightower.


"Quite the meeting. Where is her grace, where are the other members?" He gave his signature grin, a crooked and ugly look. "Lord Gelgin rode back to the Vale not too long ago, he is gathering his banners, or so he said." Lord Gelgin's disappearance was upsetting. He trusted the man, far more than the last hand. But with Gelgin gone, Manderly away, it came down to only two men for who would be the cities strongest force. 'And it's myself. I have the Watch. I have Kuvira's trust.' He parted his lips, speaking again, softly this time. "Her grace should be informed of news I have. . Received. Grim it is, our princess is missing. She was ambushed on route to Highgarden. I sent word and have riders gathering to raid the Stormlands in retaliation."


"Things would be easier if we had the young doe, I would peel her skin slowly, just for Braedon the Breaker's insolence." He spoke with rage, and truly the man was angry, but there was more to him revealing this information to one such as Baelor. He wanted to see Baelor, his reaction to Aerea's disappearance and Vladan's own 'seemingly uncontrollable' rage. The two hadn't spoken alone in many years, it would only be prudent to get a taste of his truer natures.


"It may slow down the Stag. He will march on the city, but not if his small folk are dying by the dozen. And by the time he does have the time to focus on us. . . " His creeping smile came up again, "King's Landing will be so well fortified, why, we'll have people calling it Harrenhal." His ghostly pale eyes looked at Baelor, memorizing every imperfection in his skin. "Now, the meeting has been killed. Who did so, and where are the others? The master of law? Manderly's henchmen? Our dearest Queen should attend these, she is young and in need of proper direction." 'My direction.' He meant. In a matter of weeks he'd have her on his side. All his words wasted on Maeryn would be realized under her.


He'd split the Reach into four bite size chunks, the North would be made into three equal parts. He'd let lands in the West and Riverlands come together in a new realm, as well. 'These lords who conspire against us will find far more intense competition for respect and power, after my reforms come to pass.'
 
Torvin Ironfist


The Haunted Forest - Just west of Theran's Square





Torvin woke up early in the morning, with only the sounds of the wind to accompany him until the rest of his "pack" wakes up. Sitting up to look around the dark tent Torvin reached to the his right to grab his swords remembering where he put them from the night before. After grabbing his sword he picked up the small drinking pouch and bag that sat to his left, when he had everything he stood up and exited the tent. Looking around the small camp site Torvin could see the five tents of his hunting partners in a circle surrounding the ashes of an old fire, some bones laying on the ground from their meal the night before. After getting his bearings Torvin moved away from the camp, staying within sight and ear shot in case anything happened. Torvin brushed the snow off a stone and sat down before pulling a small whetstone out of his bag and drawing his sword to sharpen the blade, a morning ritual that'd become normal for Torvin over the years.


Torvin has spent the last few days staring at the same spot that he was staring at right now, Theran's Square a former village that's partially burned down with only two houses and a portion of the wall left standing, and was also frequently visited by crows. Whenever Torvin hears about more crows coming north of the wall he and his pack set up camp and watch the hut, sizing up the men, counting how many there are and where they are going next, and occasionally killing any crow that was unlucky enough to stray to far from the rest of the flock. These crow hunts had proven to be second nature to Torvin and were now his main responsibility in the tribe, he liked it that way, killing was what he did best.
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Kuvira Targaryen - Casterly Rock

​



Kuvira scanned over the crowd, paying close attention to how all of them reacted, paying closer attention to the major houses. The Lannisters it seemed bowed immediately, even their lord, a man of enough power and wealth to turn the tide of the rebellion with just his resources alone. Kuvira liked what he did very much, it even brought a smile to her face as she came closer, even giving him a modest cursty to show him a bit of respect. "Oh I did not mind at all Lord Tiber, truly I enjoyed not having a personal army following me here" she spoke, hiding her previous emotions extremely well, looking as composed as she though a monarch should. "If you would not mind, I would enjoy your company very much, though I hope Lady Brax" she paused "Or should I say Lady Lannister will join us as well" she said, smiling politely at the woman Tiber was to marry.


Waiting for Tiber to take the lead Kuvira would follow side by side with him with his wife on his other hip. It was only when she was about to pass Albert that she waved for both of them to follow. Looking off towards Casterly Rock she spoke "Your castle is looking a wonderful and as imposing as ever Lord Tiber, it has been some time since my last visit, I believe we were both children then". She knew Tiber's father and she knew how he felt, and thus she hoped bringing up his childhood would remind him of his father, perhaps throwing him off his political game ever so slightly to try and give her an edge, though she hid this ploy as simple conversation.


@WanderingJester


@Hypnos


@LittleWolfie


@Red


Roland Wilds - Casterly Rock

​



Roland would bow to his liege as he spoke "Thank you my lord" before raising his head, only to see the queen herself, Kuvira Targaryen. Quickly dropping to one knee he would bow his head in respect, waiting until after she left to pick up his chest of coin and proceed out of the pit. Knowing very well that Lionsguard were positioned everywhere and that he could kill a dozen peasants with his eyes closed he walked comfortably back to camp. It was there that he would enter Lawsen's tent and toss the chest on the ground, all the gold dragons within spilling out on the ground. "Thought me and you could split the money and talk all the best whores in camp for me, you, and all our men" he spoke before chuckling. Sitting in a chair near where the pile of gold dragon lay he would bend over and pick one up in his mailed hand before tossing it to Lawsen with a smile, they were going to have a good few days before this war started.


@AnnoDomini
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Tiber Lannister


The Center Stands, Melee Pit, Westerlands.
​



Tiber Lannister would never admit this to another person that lived, not even Leanne, but he had held his breath slightly up to the moment Roland Wilds revealed himself. Should a hidden Reyne or even Tarbeck suddenly resurface, now of all times, it would toss all of his plans and possibly the security of the entire House Lannister into the Sunset Sea. The unity he had worked for years into the army now gathered around them would shatter overnight, and even worse, the recent news of the gathering forces to the South would no doubt take advantage of the chaos of another Westerland Civil War to invade, making all of the planning and maneuvering he had done since Tarbeck Hall useless. So when his fears were relieved, even the sight of the sudden appearance of the Targaryen Queen before him did little to unsettled the Merry Lion. Compared to another War of the Lions at hand, having to deal with Queen Kuvira was a much more preferential option. So the Lord of Casterly Rock bowed, before rising again to greet the Queen.


Tiber noticed that the Queen was in a particularly good mood today, and decided to thank the Seven later for it. In response to her words, he spoke up. "Well, you should not have any less, your Grace. I would be honored to escort you to my humble seat myself. Shall we go now?" With his question answered by the Targaryen's movement, he walked forward, while Leanne quickly recovered and walked next to him, taking his arm after thanking the Queen quietly from the side. The Warden of the West's eyes flickered to the Queensguard behind her upon his estranged cousin as he did so, seeing him now clad in the White Cloak. In return for the look of disguise from Albert, Tiber gave him his usual smile. "Ah cousin, it has been a while. Perhaps you should send some notice next time? We should really have set up a proper welcome for your homecoming as well. You have been away for so long." Without waiting for an answer he walked forward beside the Queen, and together they headed towards the Rock, protected by Queensguard and Lionguards alike.


As they traveled up to the Lannister Seat of Power, Tiber listened to Kuvira's words. He knew that the Targaryen knew of his relationship with his father, and the Merry Lion had not hid the fact that there was little love lost between him and Tytos Lannister when the Stranger took him, and left Tiber with Casterly Rock and a civil war. Had anyone looked directly into his eyes right then, they would've caught just a hint of an edge within them before they disappeared; an edge that never reached the smile on his face. In his usual cheery tone, he replied, "Your words are too kind your Grace. We've done some renovations since then but I assure you: most of it is still rather the same. Perhaps it would not be so large now? I remember seeing the world as much larger and intimidating before I grew to be what I am today." Behind them, Celena and Kylie walked with the Queen's handmaidens, while Martyn patrolled beside the convoy, putting the Lionguards and several Queensguard between himself and Tiber, Leanne and Kuvira. The members of House Brax had gone to attend to Kevan most likely.


They finally entered the courtyard of the Rock after a short journey. At which point Tiber slowed and turned to his fiancee. "My dear, didn't you say you have some preparations for dinner you needed to oversee? Please don't let me keep you. I'm sure I can adequately give her Grace a tour of the Rock myself." Leanne looked unsure, so Tiber pulled her in close for a quick kiss. She pulled away with a smile and a nod, before heading out. Just as she took a few steps though, Tiber looked to Celena in the back, and nodded. "Celena, do you mind helping her check on a few things? We will need to arrange new living arrangements for her Grace and her entourage." Celena stared at him for a second, before curtsying and excusing herself. As the three ladies and their guards left, he turned back to the Queen. Tiber bowed again apologetically. "I truly hope you don't mind their absences your Grace, but I'm sure you understand, even without your presence, things have been... busy here as of late. Please excuse them. Shall we tour around the Rock, or would you prefer to head to your chambers immediately? The road here can be tiring as I can imagine."


@Leusis


@Red


@Hypnos


@Fezzes (Just for reading if you'll like in your hiatus)


@Robyn Banks (Same thing)


_________________________


Celena Lannister


The Center Stands, Melee Pit, Westerlands.



​



Celena Lannister had remained mostly silent on the way back to the Rock. While Kylie conversed with some of the Queen's handmaidens about what had occurred in the melee excitedly, she had only replied politely herself, without really paying attention to the conversation. They were walking behind what were likely some of the more powerful people in Westeroes, between her eldest brother and Queen Kuvira herself. What she could not figure out was why Tiber had assumed the position of a subservient, when he was clearly in the position of power. Of course there would not be a group of warriors of equal strength and skill to match the Queensguard walking beside them now, but even they could do little to defend themselves against the army of what was likely more than 40,000 Lannister troops around them. This thought she could not figure out, and it bothered her, almost as much as seeing Albert again.


Seeing her long estranged cousin brought up quite a bit of emotions for the Lion Maid. Celena had actually been somewhat close to Albert as they grew, often playing with his sister and him whenever Celena and Kylie could get together with them. She could also understand why Albert left, having agreed with him that the things Tiber had ordered his men to do at Tarbeck Hall were heinous at best. Still, to have just departed without so much as a goodbye to her or his sister, and to return a White Cloak? Celena did her best to take solace in the fact that he was alright, at least from what she could see of him, but her sadness and other emotions did their best to cloud her mind and confuse her, so that she almost jumped when she heard Tiber calling her name.


Catching the latter part of what he had said, Celena tried to comprehend what he had wants her to do, versus what he had just said. After a second of looking into his eyes, it clicked in her head. She bowed to both him and and Queen before giving a polite "excuse us" and leaving with Leanne. Walking quickly, she entered the keep and gave a nod to Leanne, who seemed to understand Tiber somewhat as well, having been around him long enough at this point. Celena gave a pointed look to Kylie then to Leanne, and turned towards the upper levels, rather than the kitchen, leaving the other two women to head in the opposite direction. The majority of the Lionguards followed the other two, while a pair tailed Celena instead. She made a few quick turns using her knowledge of the castle, just in case, and went to a nearby garden. It was quite out of the way from the rest of the main castle, designed as a place for her mother to get some privacy as well as peace from the world as she watched her children play. It seemed as though a lifetime ago now.


The Lion Maid looked around, before finding who she was looking for. Walking over, Celena came beside Astris Baratheon and said, "Little sister, you must be careful. Queen Kuvira just arrived, and we don't need any of her Queensguards finding you. I'm sorry but it might be best for you to remain either here or in your quarters for the wedding, and the latter would be safer. I really do wish you can enjoy this with the rest of us, but things will be... complicated if they were to know you're here." Reaching out, she pulled the younger girl into a hug, "don't worry, even if they find out, we'll not let them take you again. Tiber gave his word he'll get you back to your brothers, and he always keeps his word."


At least, in his interpretation anyways. Celena frowned as the words came to her mind.


@LittleWolfie
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Kuvira Targaryen- Casterly Rock

​



Kuvira walked alongside Tiber, he hid his emotion very well, but not so well as for Kuvira no to catch on. After all, she had been raised in the Red Keep, a place where political intrigue was constantly taking place, something she had to try and master at a very young age. Tiber was upset, he had reason to be as well, his father was a coward and left Tiber with a civil war to deal with, similar to what her own father had done. "Oh, must they go so soon?" Kuvira questioned after Tiber had dismissed his bride and sister. "I suppose I will see you all later tonight then, enjoy the rest of your day" she said, making sure to sound as sincere as possible. Walking along with Tiber further into Casterly Rock she waited for prying ears to be quite distant other than the guards that followed. It was only then that her tone shifted, much more serious now "So, would you mind if we went to your office, perhaps your war room, whichever you prefer, I'm sure both a rather private".


Waiting for Tiber to lead her to either one she glanced around at the castle around her, it was dull to say the least. The Lannisters were rich, that was for sure, but their skill at decoration was poor at best, especially Leanne as Kuvira was sure she was the one responsible, after all it was her wedding, regardless of how terribly she presented it. Entering either the office or war room Kuvira would slowly make her way to the closest seat, having Albert and Gale flank her on both sides as she crossed her legs. "Your armies are gathered Lord Tiber, I would like to know why, and do not tell me you mean to simply defend yourself, I am a woman, not a dullard. If you have the intention of attacking the Reach I would advise against such a thing, after all, I mean to make them my allies, just as I mean to make you my ally" she spoke before giving Tiber a sly smirk.


@WanderingJester


@Red
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Tiber Lannister


The Courtyard, Casterly Rock, Westerlands.



​




Tiber Lannister walked along the Queen, with their collection of people following the two of them. At her suggestions, he had nodded. "Of course your Grace. My office is this way." They walked along the corridor, and from her body language, Kuvira wasn't impressed. Still, to please the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, one must do something spectacular. The Lord of Casterly Rock had a feeling that was exactly what the Queen would ask of him, as they entered into his office. The place was relatively clean, probably surprisingly so. A few scattered sheets of paper on the desk, concerning the seating of the ceremony and various feasts. Tidying up the contents as Kuvira sat down, Tiber noted that the rest of the envoy remained outside, with the exception of his cousin, and Ser Gale of the Queensguard with them. Likewise, Martyn flanked Tiber, along with Ser Tidus who had been summoned with the appearance of such an important guest. With the well built door closed, the meeting could begin.


The Warden of the West sat down as he listened to the Targaryen's words. He considered them carefully while politely smiling back at the Queen's smirk. While the Red Dragon might not be able to kill him or his at the Rock, she can proved to create many a headaches down the road. The Merry Lion opened his mouth only for a knock on the door to interrupt him. "Enter." Two servant girls came in, each carrying a bowl or a plate. The two silently presented the salt and bread to the Queen and her guards, bowing respectfully in the process. Tiber gave them a nod before turning to Kuvira. "Please excuse my rudeness. It's not everyday the Queen of Westeroes arrives at your door unannounced. Some salt and bread for your Grace?" He would wait until they took it, and as they chew on the content, spoke of his mind himself. Flanking him, Martyn showed no emotions as he watched over the meeting, while Ser Tidus gave curious looks to Albert and his White Cloak.


"Your Grace asked me why I gathered my banners, and so many at the moment. My answer is simple: I intend to secure the position of power and influence House Lannister and, in turn, the Westerlands, in the midst of such chaotic times, as fulfilling the duties that I swore to uphold when I took up the mantel of Warden of the West. Should I remain idle while four major regions of Westeroes gathers its forces for war? As per my duty not only to your Grace and to the people of the Westerlands, the most obvious task that needs to be completed now involves the subjugation of the Reach. Have you considered, that while House Lannister mustered its arms early in preparations stabilize the realm and defend the Crown, why House Tyrell contented itself with watching and waiting as the vile intentions of the North, the Riverlands and the Stormlands towards you were made clear?"


Tiber picked up a sigil of House Lannister, before twirling it around in his hand. "Your Grace said it yourself; you are no dullard. Your Grace is the Queen of Westeroes, and as Queen, Your Grace can see that such indecision and inaction while the Crown is in danger of that magnitude should be nothing less than treason. The Westermen are poised now to deliver the appropriate punishment to such traitors to the South. So back to your Grace's original question: I intend for this army to carry out my duties to your realm, and to the Westerlands." He paused the twirling, as though a thought just hit him. Looking back to Kuvira and directly into her eyes, the Lord of Casterly Rock spoke, "You said your Grace's intentions are to make contact with those traitors and ally with them, but Your Grace should also remember that even should that succeed, the Reach is far from united. Several houses have had... histories with the Black Dragon, and with one rising out of the East, even should House Tyrell join the Crownlands, it would likely result in a civil war there. So rather than relief in the form of reinforcements your Grace is looking for as the Crownlands contend itself with the Stormland and the North's troops, your Grace might instead receive battered and tired men, hardly fit to fight a normal enemy let along the Marcher Lords of the Baratheons."


The Merry Lion placed the sigil down and sat up. "If your Grace was to make House Lannister and I the Crown's allies, not just subjects, you may bring both the Westerlands and the Reach to your side at once, rather than deal with the stress that comes with contradictory agreements with multiple Great Houses. The price might be high, I can attest to that, but still much simpler than the alternative, and the chance to bring two of the stronger kingdoms of Westeroes to assist you in stabilizing your other subject's lands, something I had full intentions of doing anyways. Remember the Field of Fire, your Grace? Can your Grace imagine that sort of power behind the Red Dragon, instead of against her? What host can compare to that at the moment? Your Grace have a chance of securing that for yourself here." He sat back again, opening his arms. "But of course, if you still wish to treat with the House Tyrell, you are more than free to. I would advise your Grace as a faithful subject that the traitors might receive you with a sword on their laps, rather than the salt and bread before you now at the Rock."


@Leusis


@Red
 

Kuvira Targaryen- Casterly Rock

​



Tiber Lannister is in intelligent man, of that Kuvira had no doubt, he used his words carefully, attempting to sound as loyal and as innocent as possible. He even had servants come with salt and bread, which she and her guards would partake in of course. But there was something abut the man she couldn't bring herself to trust, after all, if the rumors were true, he killed his own father. Nobody is as accursed as a kinslayer people said all over Westeros, and there was good reason, they were little better than bastards in Kuvira's eyes. 'Bastards' she thought, remembering how she had been named one by both Viserys and Braedon not so long ago. She lacked the hair and eyes of Valyria that of that there was no doubt, but the personality she held was far too close to her fathers for her to be anyone elses child, though she was more cunning.


"You speak of loyalty to the crown, wishing to defeat my enemies and saying that even if the Tyrell's backed me I would only get a small and useless force due to the Blackfyre loyalists. I ask you then only one question, if you intend to attack the Reach you know that will be a difficult war, one that you might not win, and even if you do you'll emerge weaker than you've ever been, so, what is the difference between you and the Tyrell host you say will be so weak?". Slowly standing from her seat she would pace over to a nearby window, pulling at the curtains to look outside. Scanning the horizon she would sigh, purposely allowing herself to be loud enough for Tiber to hear. "I hear the Ironborn have already attacked your lands once as well. Tell me, what is stopping them from sailing to your coast and destroying your lands while you fight the Reach? True the Ironborn have already been defeated once, but they are dimwitted and violent people, they will return when they have the chance. In truth you are in no better of a position than the Tyrell's, they may have waited far longer than they should have, this I know to be true, but it is only with the Westerlands, the remnants of the loyal Reachmen, the Vale, and the Crownlands that may reign may go on. You are an intelligent man, and I will hope you see that unification will leave all involved in a better position than your attempts at conquest."


Slowly walking back to her seat she would slowly sit again, looking into Tiber's eyes to see any sign of what he was really thinking. He had only known her during her worst, when she had kept many lords held in her keep for over a week, but now, in a calmer environment she was at her best, ready to go toe to toe with even the great Tiber Lannister, a man who thought so highly of himself that he believes he could take the Reach and hold off the Ironborn.


@WanderingJester


@Red
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 5 (members: 0, guests: 5)

Similar threads

Midrick
Fandom Cyberpunk: Streets of Fire
cyberpunk
Replies
5
Views
154
Avi2023
Avi2023
Morgaine Kri Chya
Fantasy Gates of Tirath - Sword & Planet Adventure [Open]
gates of tirath rp
Replies
6
Views
229
Morgaine Kri Chya
Morgaine Kri Chya
hotsauce
Multiple Settings Alumni of the Arcane || IC
Replies
7
Views
188
lvcid
lvcid
Geozaki
Fandom Out of the Rain - An Owl House RP (CS)
Replies
0
Views
21
Geozaki
Geozaki
Gold.
Fandom Sands of Darkness (Pokémon)
Replies
13
Views
384
mimitchi
mimitchi
Back
Top