Fandom Of Blood and Wine (a GoT AU RP).

[Khryses]

Ser Harys Buckwell tensed and an angry flush rose in his cheeks as the young Dornishman began spitting insults and curses that built into a howling declamation - but even insults that might have made his younger self see red and go for him with drawn sword no longer had the power to drive him to violence. Which wasn't to say that it wouldn't be remembered, oh no. He watched tensely as the Princess of Dorne did a fairly solid job of bludgeoning her rogue sword into unconsciousness; but the boneheaded lad barely paused to draw breath in his mindless rant in the forecourt of the Red Keep; too busy shaming his House to worry about how many oaths of obedience and loyalty he was trampling across.


Harys seized that momentary silence in the same way he drove his sword through an opening in his foe's guard - driving back the temptation to do just that to this loudmouth. "'The measure of a man'," he echoed quietly, the colour fading from his cheeks. "Bite your tongue, whelp - you rave of things you know nothing about." Now his voice is whip-sharp, yet still a ways short of a full-throated bellow. Ser Selwyn and Ser Anders had both stepped forward, their hands on their sword-hilts but he motioned them back with a one-handed gesture - his other rested on the hilt of his own blade. "You shame your House and your Princess with your unknightly behavior. Ware though, your birth is showing through any thin sheen of chivalry Ser Dayne bestowed upon you with the name of 'Ser'." He glanced at the blade Daemon bore, and his face darkened. "Or his blade. I was privileged to call your uncle friend in life and in death; he was a great knight. You aren't fit to lick his boots clean, boy."


Finally he took a step back, his eyes shifting to the shame-faced Princess of Dorne while shaking his head to show that he doesn't hold her responsible for her bodyguard's behavior. On the other hand, "My apologies, your Highness - the safety and security of His Grace, the royal family and the Red Keep at large is my sworn duty, and regretfully your bodyguard has proven himself a danger to himself and to those around him. As such I must forbid Daemon Sand the freedom of the Red Keep; he is welcome to stay in King's Landing until you are ready to leave. He should be fine there - unless he breaks the King's Peace, in which case the Gold Cloaks he so disdains will lock him up for his own protection." He smiled wryly, then shook his head. "Of course for your own security I will be pleased to provide you with a knight of the Kingsguard, but you may rest assured that the Red Keep will be kept safe from any violence."


Back in Kalista's chambers, the young Targaryen rose to her feet with a gentle smile and rested her hand on his arm. "Of course, brother mine. I can eat fruit later - though for Viserys I fear I will need my shoes," she dimpled. Turning to where her handmaiden stood, she gestured to her shoe chest and inclined her head. "It looks like you were right, Jya. Would you mind?"


"Of course, my lady." Jyana had remained in a curtsy until she was sure whether Aerion had come to stay, but now she came to her feet and moved quickly across to pick out a matching pair of court slippers for her lady, though she sneaked an admiring look at the Dragon Prince when she was fairly certain he wasn't looking. "Why does Uncle crave our presence today, Aerion? Some new idea he's had, or are we expecting visitors?" She spun idly, enjoying the feel of the stone against her bare feet. "Don't you miss the meals we used to have together, just you and I? I feel we hardly get to speak these days."


She listened to his response and nodded in thanks to Jyana when the red-head knelt to slip the appropriate slippers onto each foot in turn. "Thank you Jya; I'll be fine for the next couple of hours, so why not take some time for yourself? I will see you before mid-day."

 

[CAP Ireland]

''I have heard that the houses are coming to pledge themselves to him so I assume he wants to inform us on who exactly is coming.'' Aerions face turned to stone at the thought of the past and the fear that had controlled him. He shook it off and took his sister by the hand to walked her out the door before turning to closing it.


''Enjoy your day Jya.'' Aerion said, smiling at the handmaiden before closing the door behind him.


The Red Keep had come alive and the siblings were almost knocked over a multitude of times by scrambling servants.


As they reached Viseryses door Aerion took a second before heading knocking to talk to his sister.


''I miss those days but they're gone now. Best to enjoy the present why you still can.'' he squeezed her hand before knoc-


Viserys pulled the door open and stepped out, unaffected by Aerion and Kalistas presence.


''This way.'' he said before leading the two to the main hall.


''Why are we going t-''


''We have guests and not enough time to prepare. I need you two to try and be charming, got it?'' Viserys ridden't wait for a response. His question had been rhetorical, they would do as he said or he would deal with them. He had no time for more problems.


As they entered the main hall Ethaniel Lannister was sat at the table set for three eating from the selection on offer.


He stood when he saw the Targaryens and suddenly realised his mistake.


''Oh my...my apologies your grace, I didn't know who this had been set for so I assumed...'' Ehtaniel bowed low. ''Please, sit. I'll fetch you a new plate.'' Ethan rose and began towards the kitchen.


''There is no need Ethaniel Lannister. Aerion has already eaten, haven't you?'' Viserys glanced at Aerion, commanding him to comply.


''Yes, of course...'' Viserys smiled and pulled out a chair for Kalista.


''Shall we?'' he made eye contact with his niece whilst Aerion grabbed a pomigranite from the table and nibbled at it.


Ethaniel returned to his place and stood, waiting for the rest of the party to be seated.

 

[Khryses]

"Of course Uncle," Kalista said gravely, dipping down into the chair he held out like a flower on the breeze. She half-stood at the last moment as he shoved in the chair and then settled back down as her companions sat - except for Aerion, where he nibbled on his pomegranate. "I don't eat much anyway," she confided. "If Aerion will quit stealing my fruit he's more than welcome to my sliced meats." She slid her plate over to the edge of the table closest him, pausing only momentarily to take an apple in her hand and look across the table at the interesting golden-haired man across the table.


"New to King's Landing, Ethaniel? I don't recall seeing you at court before... before now," Kalista paused, then shook her head with a silvery tinkle and gave him an unusually direct look, "Besides, I'm sure we would have noticed if all our meals began coming up short." Violet eyes dropped to admire the rosy fruit in her palm, then she took a large bite from it, crunching at the juicy flesh with a dreamy, appreciative look.


She let the flow of conversation go on for a few minutes more as she devoured her prize, set the core on the edge of 'her' plate and rejoined the conversation as though she'd never left. "My Lord Lannister, I've heard it said that you can only truly know your home through the eyes of a visitor. How have you found King's Landing so far? I trust we have made you welcome?"

 

[CAP Ireland]

Aerion at his sisteres gift and put the pomegranate back on the table to begin on the meats.


Visarys noticed the exchange but said nothing. The gesture didn't affect Ethaniel so he didn't much care for it. Still, Kalistas' kindness was something else to admire in the girl. He picked at some of the pastries whilst waiting for Ethaniels response, occasionally glancing over at Kalista.


Ethaniel chuckled at Kalistas observation before considering her question.


''I feel that you treat me almost too well. My chambers have a view of the city and, from what I've seen, the city thrives under your rule your grace. Still, I feel as if you're unaware of-''


''Unaware of what?'' Viserys snapped, paranoia fuelling his feelings.


''...that the other houses are currently amassing in-''


''Outside of Kings Landing, I know. I have dispatched some Kingsguard to deal with them.'' Viserys fell back into his chair and took a bite of another pastry.


''...in your courtyard.'' Ethaniel finished. Viseryses eyes widened for a moment and he said nothing.


A calm before the storm. Ethaniel thought.


Viserys almost knocked the table over when he sprung from his seat, his movements crass and violent. He strode towards the entrance of the hall and was gone a second later.


Aerion walked over to Viseryses chair and sat in it.


''...so, Lord Lannister...'' Aerions attempt to engage the Lord failed as Ethaniel rose and followed Viserys a second later.


''Well, it looks like we'll be having a meal together once more sister.'' Aerion smiled at her before shoving one of Viseryses pastries in his mouth.

 

[Khryses]

Kalista watched as first Viserys and then the Lannister man Ethaniel left their table, and Aerion took their uncle's place - and then his pastries. Her eyes widened with amusement, then she reclaimed one of her own honey-soaked pastries with a tiny mischievous smile. "Why so we do, my brother. But if we are to have half the mighty of Westeros here at court by nightfall I fear this will be our last for some time to come."


She nibbled delicately at the curled end of her bun, then smiled artlessly with a smear of honey on her lip. "Is it true that Viserys means to find me a husband among those lords meeting in the courtyard, do you think?"


While Jyana took the liberty of easing her own hunger from her lady's discarded plate, she took the dinnerware to the scullery then followed the scent of the rare hours of freedom toward the gardens - only to be sidetracked, drawn like many of the Keep's serving staff to the drama brewing in the courtyard. Not so much the young Dornishman's confrontation with the Lord Commander, or the growing audience of the powerful. Even the King's dramatic arrival, two more of the Kingsguard at his back, had not the power to divert all attention from the more vital pursuit of putting faces to names and identifying the great and powerful now arriving for the first time since the reign of Rhaegar. There stood the Storm Lord, young and powerful and glamorous. There stood the Tyrell heir, armed and armored with a band of his finest men, and there stood the young Princess of Dorne with the woman rumored to be her paramour.


Who knew what might not come to pass in the days ahead?

 

[Israfeli]

"I am happy to leave." Daemon said, glaring at the soiled knight. "But I advise that false Kingsguard not go near Her Grace; the stench of a traitor would offend the royal nose." Turning to leave, he added, "Elia, remember your father's teachings. Soiled Knight, a truer knight than thou used to tell me that a man's sword hand determines his worth. Perhaps you should seek me out when I return for Her Grace." Daemon wrenched the spear from Nymeria's grasp by the bladed tip and offered it to Elia.


Elia just glared at the Kingsguard as she accepted the return of her spear. This whole time, she'd hoped to try her mettle against the knights, but, alas, nothing came of it. "We will seek you out, Daemon, and I will bid dear Kalista your best."


"Have the Gold Cloaks find me when you decide to test your worth, Turncloak." Daemon calmly stated as he walked away.


"That went better than expected." Nymeria sighed. "Lord Buckwell," she continued after an extended silence, "I do so apologize. We Dornish are a more hot-blooded folk, and dear Daemon is still coming to terms with the loss of those who raised him; in another life, he'd dreamed of wearing the White Cloak himself for Rhaegar. I beg your forgiveness on his behalf."

 

[kira blackthorn]

Theon along with his companion and guard found themselves at Riverrun by sundown, there they were met by his father lord Edmure and mother Lady Relina. Relieved to find his parents seemingly unharmed Theon dismounted from his horse and after proper greetings were exchanged found himself swept up in his mother's arms. Returning the rare hug he pulled back and got to business as they began to head into the castle. "Is everything prepared?"


"Of course. We shall move before daybreak to head toward Kings landing." His father answered curtly as they walked into his study and his mother made her leave. Taking a seat at one of the chairs in front of the fire he gestured for Theon to do the same. Theon stopped by the door and declined. "Though I am sure we have a lot to catch up on father, first I would like to see to my chambers and bathe. It has been a long journey and it has yet to end."


"Of course." Edmure accepted after all he knew the ride from winterfell to Riverrun was never easy. Turning toward the staff that stood against the wall waiting for commands he gestured for one to come foreword and a familiar face stepped forward. "Rob shall resume his position as your servant during your stay. I trust you remember the way to your chambers. "


"Yes, father." Theon confirmed doing his best to resist the urge to hug his old friend. Growing up Rob was the one who always cleaned up after him and kept some of his more outrageous adventures from his parents knowledge.


"Good. You may go now." Nodding Theon eagerly took his leave from that stuffy room. He never liked it as a child and now was no better. The moment the door closed his arms wrapped around his old friend and the gesture was returned happily by the old man. Pulling back they began the walk to Theons chamber. "I see you are still as small as ever my lord. "


"Don't remind me." Theon insisted. He was well aware of his small height and build but there was nothing to be done about it. The only thing he could hope for was that he have at least one more growth spurt before he stopped growing. If he hadn't already. Entering his chambers he was unsurprised to find a fire already burning in the fire place and a bathe prepared. His mother had always been one step ahead of him. "After I bathe we shall catch up. I have much to tell you."


"Of course my lord." Rob bowed spirits sober. They both knew that the events that shall come to pass Once they reach King's landing in the morning will very well decided their future.

 

[Gospeller]

Kross shook his head, but paid little attention to the squabble of the outside. Petty bias and talk of the past -... if only the individuals around here would set themselves to thinking more about the future. Gathering his men, the representative of the House of Tyrell became impatient and started his march towards the Red Keep.


Unless stopped or interacted with, he would be at its gates shortly with his handful of trained soldiers. If it was not for the banners, one would barely recognize that the soldiers and Kross were from he House of Tyrell. Their armors had been redefined into a much more 'chunkier' aspect, greathelms on their skulls and large circular war-shields resting on the pebbled floor, all wielding a short-bow and a fore-arm sized hatchet each. Intimidating.

Spoiler

These soldiers were clearly not of usual Tyrell armament. They were the soldiers that Kross had specially equipped as shock troops - what would be the forefront of any siege or army he would have in the future. One day, all the soldiers of the House of Tyrell would look like this. Kross felt pride swell within him as he awaited his acceptance or rejection into the Red Keep.

 

[Israfeli]

As Daemon strolled out of the Red Keep, he whistled to the tune of 'Gentle Mother, Font of Mercy'. A bit carefree for the moment, he spied the Flower-Man in the distance. Shrugging, he approached them and looked up at Kross Tyrell, sitting on his horse. "Lord Tyrell," Daemon gave a small bow with the most amused grin he'd ever had. "A pleasure to see you again so soon. I could have sworn that you would have met the new monarch by now." Looking up and down each of the Tyrell soldiers, Daemon thought for a moment, then turned to face Kross again. "I wish you luck."

 

[Gospeller]

Kross and his men had arrived to the Red Keep on foot, but nonetheless, he gave an equally spiteful bow towards Daemon. "A pleasure?" The plated helm shook in disagreement. "Frem'how ya' shouted n'raved, ey'wouldn' think ye' would be so quick ta' polite ye'self up to such standards. But ey' take it wit' gret' appreciation." His manner of speaking had clearly shifted towards how he was used to speak, though he still seemed to keep somewhat of a respectable stance. "And ... I do nae' haff' too great of'a wish to meet'im, but someone's gotta'." There was a slight tint of annoyance in his voice. "Em' guessin' ya' got kicked out?" The tall, plated man eyed Daemon up and down, spotting his blade with ease. There was a moment of silence. "Huh." Whilst he seemed to acknowledge it, there was not much else of a change in his demeanor.

This conversation aside, Tyrell truly was waiting to be accepted into the Red Keep; he was not planning on simply barging in.​

 

[Israfeli]

"Well, I only came here with four things in mind. So, yeah. Kicked out on my bum for belligerence. Rhaegar did say that would be the death of me." Daemon shrugged. "So...waiting on the guards?" Daemon looked up and down one of the soldiers again. "Are these knights any good in battle?" Daemon's hand went to the hilt of Dawn. "I must say, I have not had a duel with a Reachman in a long time, and there are rumors that a Lord of the Reach has assembled a group of elite soldiers. Could I assume that the rumors are true?"

 

[Gospeller]

A low chuckle escaped Kross. "As lon' as ye' keep yer' wits about ya', ye' should be fine, I'd say." The chuckle bellows from his throat and echoes in his helm. "I wouldn' say assembled as much as disciplined. Whilst I'm not all too eager to let'ya in on'e secret o'two, these soldiers represent the true glory of'de Reach." Kross' hand beckons on the guards that remain in their place, unflinching. "Ye'll be seein' more o'em soon, e'd hope." A solid nod is directed at Daemon. "E'd love to duel wit'cha, especially when'ye wield somethin' like that. If ye' wasn't so spontaneous n'patriotic, who knows, maye'ye'd make the bloody ideal Knight." If anything, that was uttered with a sense of disappointment. "But ey' can't judge. An' I aff' business 'ere to attend to, but ey'might come'alon' later n'have ye'up for the offer." Another nod is given, his large, heavy armor clanking.

 

[Israfeli]

"I will not be using Dawn in a duel to first blood; I will either use a spear..." Daemon thought about it for a moment, then corrected himself "a clean spear, or I will borrow a sword from a Gold Cloak." Daemon unsheathed Dawn. "As proud as I am of this blade, using a sword like it in a duel would be dishonorable." Daemon re-sheathed Dawn. "The ideal knight? No, we Dornish tend not to do well in the ways of the rest of Westerosi knighthood. Your traditions are too strict. All I have to do for my liege is follow simple orders; I pity you knights to the North of us, all those vows of behaviour and religious vows and protect who and what from who and what, but not from certain whos or whats..." Daemon shook his head at this. "It always seemed unnecessary. Other than Ser Hightower, it seemed that no knight has ever perfectly embodied those silly standards."

 

[kira blackthorn]

Theon sighed happily as he climbed out of the tub now feeling clean and relaxed. After the long journey this was just what he needed. After dressing in a knee length red tunic and a pair od black Hosen he took a seat at one of the chairs in front of the fire, were a warm plate of food awaited, and gestured for his friend to do the same when he returned. Taking the offered seat Rob looked at his young friend soberly. "So what has happened since you left?"


"I didn't leave. I was sent away." Theon corrected absently as he thought of what to tell him. His life in Winterfell was not bad by any means. What he really wanted to speak to him about was the future. Leaning back in his seat he made up his mind. "Let us not delay the inevitable as time is not on our side dear friend. Can you please tell me what you know on Fathers views on this new king and which direction the vessel houses of Riverrun seem to be taking? I know perfectly well you are smarter then you let on."


Sighing Rob nodded and seemed to age years as he began to talk. "Your father is on the Stark's side. yet, until they inform him of what they plan to do he will stay natural. The vessel houses seem to mostly be the same however..."

 

[Khryses]

"Ser Buckwell or Lord Commander," Harys corrected gravely, before his face lightened. "Apology accepted, your Highness; we were all young once, and I am well aware of the hot blood of the children of the Rhoyne. The stories Ser Arthur told me of his youth!" He shook his head and offered them a wry smile. "There are many ill feelings as a result of the recent violence in the Red Keep, and as a result we've had to tighten security somewhat. With the grace of the Mother in a few years we will be able to welcome you to a calmer court; perhaps he may yet one day be offered a white cloak, provided he learns discipline. Please do let me know if you wish a personal guard while you stay with us - Ser Selwyn will see you to the Iron Throne or to your quarters to refresh, as you desire. Until we speak again; welcome to the Red Keep, your Highness and Lady Elia."


The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard bowed formally and stepped out of the path of the Dornish, leading his remaining knight across the courtyard toward the Tyrell contingent. Their unfamiliar new-model heavy armor was certainly impressive, though only time would show how well it held up to sustained campaigning. He marked the banners and their stance, and bowed to the large well-muscled man at their head before addressing him formally, "My Lord Tyrell, welcome to the King's Court. You have journeyed far, and will have quarters prepared overlooking the gardens. I see you have brought many of your finest men with you; would you introduce them to Ser Anders and I?"

 

[Mousie]

A fleet of 12 ships led by Drevyn were mostly comprised of House Blacktyde. Many of the veteran Blacktyde men had previously served the now mature Greyjoy in his many reavings across Essos. One of his most infamous battles was against the mercenaries that the free cities Lys and Myr had hired against him. The mercenaries had foolishly battled them on the sea near the Stepstones. Mercenary ship after ship were either sunk or used to escort the new thralls back towards the Iron Islands and later disassembled for ship parts.


Drevyn's body and hands leaned against the ships railing, while his head bowed. He was lost in thought, and began to remember how many of the mercenary ships had tried to escape the battle after the majority of them had failed. None of them could sail fast enough to match The Iron Death, nor the fleet that it commanded. His deep contemplation was suddenly interrupted by a frail voice. "M'lord, we're nearing the coast of Bloodstone." Drevyn's attention immediately left his thoughts as he was now fully focused.


"Be sure that you be on the lookout for any pirates. There are still many Lyseni and Tyroshi fools that would still challenge The Iron Fleet." Drevyn instructed in a harsh tone. "As you wish, m'lord." The ironborn lookout resumed his position, while Drevyn stood upwards sharply, ready to command his fleet for battle at any moment.

 

[CAP Ireland]

Aerion chewed the pastry as he thought.


''I don't know. We'll have to wait and see.'' he said before grabbing another pastry and devouring it.


Viserys stormed out the Red Keeps entrance and was met with the three houses standing around in the courtyard.


''Was your discussion in the field not enough for you?'' Viserys shouted as he walked down the stairs towards Ser Harys.


''I assure you, I am not so bad that I would burn you all at a glance. In fact, I was enjoying a meal with Lord Lannister when I was informed of your arrival.'' Ethaniel appeared as Viserys reached the bottom of the stairs and soon joined him there.


''So, can I ask what the meaning of this little collective is? Hunting partners perhaps? Did you travel together for safety? I assure you, I meant none of you harm.'' Viserys looked on the group, his eyes flicking from one to the other as he made assumptions of their persons and intentions.


Ethaniel smiled at the party. He didn't agree with the kings words but saying anything would thrown him into Viseryses bad graces, so he simply smiled before noticing a few of the guards at the gate debating something. He caught the eye of one of the guards and began to talk to him in subtle gestures. After a few seconds of intense charades he figured out that one house was waiting to be invited it. Ethan signed to let them in but the guards were still hesitant. Eventually, one complied and the gates opened to reveal a small army of Tyrell men.


Viserys, seeing the Tyrell men, became a little more agitated.


''Althoguht it would seem that the feeling wasn't mutual. Ser Kross, why have you brought so many men?'' Viserys was shouting over the courtyard now but his eyes darted around it. He felt uneasy in his own home.

 

[Israfeli]

Nymeria bowed to Viserys. "King Viserys, we of Dorne have come to reaffirm our loyalty to the Iron Throne. While we did not plan to meet together beforehand, our respective entourages did seem to coincidentally encounter each other on the King's Road...your road, Your Grace. While I only had one knight and my dear cousin" Nymeria gestured to Elia, "in my service for the journey here, I cannot say much for any other House."


Nymeria thought for a moment, then added, loud enough to be heard by the Tyrell, "Your Grace, you may remember that the Reach has a strong history of serving the Iron Throne, in every war, with the exception of House Hightower. While no leader is psychic, I am sure that leader as wise as yourself has considered the possibility that the Reach is most likely trying to show Your Grace his best knights; similar to a child showing his superior the drawing they made. I can only assume the same is true for the Stormlands, the Lord of the Stormlands is almost assuredly seeking to show the support that he could give Your Grace." Nymeria approached Viserys and kneeled for the king. "It is entirely my pleasure to meet you, Your Grace."

 

[CAP Ireland]

Viserys smiled smugly at the womans' words. He watched her for a moment before realising who she was. Nymeria Martell. A image of Elias body falling before him came to his mind and then vanished.


She's not to be trusted...


But her confirmation of Dorne reaffirming its loyalty to him was exactly what he'd wanted from them. And it coming from a rather exotic beauty definetly helped the case. Still, a silver young did not always come with a golden heart.


''You say that you only met on the King's road yet you feel confident enough to talk for these men. Still, I'd like to hear them speak for themselves. Not that your words weren't enough my dear Nymeria, just that I'd like to'' -have them bow to me- '' give them a chance to explain themselves to me. But you are most welcome.'' Viserys rekindled his smile and signalled for Nymeria to rise.


Ethaniel began to count the small foreign army that was forming in the courtyard. The Tyrell men alone outnumbered the present Kingsguard and then the Baratheon men would turn a fight into a slaughter. Ethaniel hopped that he would be the only one to notice and that he might leave here alive.

 

[Israfeli]

Nymeria rose to stand at Viserys's instruction, and noticed the momentary doubt on his face. "Pardon my behavior, Your Grace. We Dornish women are a bit different from the rest of Westeros; with the banners raised among their troops, I assumed that none would be foolish enough to draw the wrath of the Dragon King by imprisoning a Lord Paramount who serves Your Grace." Nymeria paused for a few moments, hoping that this would erase the doubt, then decided to proceed. "Rumors state that you intended for my aunt to survive the rebellion, but that she was struck down by some rogue that assumed it would please Your Grace." Nymeria hoped that Viserys would pursue this scapegoat now that she offered it. If Dorne was to have its due for the murder of Elia Martell, it would take time and require them to be above suspicion.


Elia silently stood behind Nymeria, just thinking about Dornish revenge. Strange that Dornish are known to be hot-blooded, yet our revenge is cold.

 

[CAP Ireland]

''I'm happy the truth got to Dorne but am sorry for your loss.'' Viserys answered, bowing a little as he did so but it was short lived. ''I'm sure Kalista will be delegated to have members from all her family around for a while. She will be pleased.'' Viserys smiled and then looked over Nymeria and back towards the Baratheon (whom he assumed to be Mifel after a brief inspection) and Tyrell (whom he couldn't see properly just yet).


Ethaniel walked to Nymeria's side and bowed.


''Lord Ethaniel Lannister my lady, a pleasure.'' he rose and smiled at the girl.


She might make it through this.


Her way with words had probably won her some trust with the king, and that was invaluable here.

 

[kira blackthorn]

It was late by the time Theon and Rob finished talking and he slept little before it was time to go. Dressed and ready to go he stood beside his grey horse, Ash, and watched irritated as his family went about preparing to leave. They should have been done already and on their way but his siblings insisted on performing their usual morning routines when they were awoken instead of waking early and doing so as they should have.


They do not understand the urgency and importance of this meeting and Theon feared what this might mean for their future if they continued being so lax. In Winterfell he had continued his life as a noble but was also exposed to the darker side. Here the Tully children were spoilt and protected even if they weren't aware of it.


It made him sick.


Finally as the sun peaked over the horizon they were ready to go and Theon practically bounced onto his horse as the disembarked. Trotting slightly ahead of his family with his bodyguard Toyan by his side he found himself unable to relax as the voices of his siblings met his sharp ears.


"I hope I can find a husband in Kings landing. Maybe even the prince." Sarian sighed loudly and he could almost see a wistful look on her face. He never believed his sister to be like the girls that wanted nothing more then to marry a prince but then again he guessed he didn't really know her. He just hoped it didn't get her killed. All princes had a darkside.


"I'm sure he shall fall in love with you at first glance sister. As for myself naybe if I show off my skills the king will make me part of his personal guard." Rorin boasted arrogantly. Many things must have changed while I was away. It seems my dear siblings have gotten dumber and blinder since last I have seen them. At least then they knew to keep their arrogant words behind tight lips not loose in the open. Just what has happened to make them change? Did my parents perhaps spoil them more when they sent me a way? A way of ignoring the loss of their youngest, perhaps? The mere thought was laughable and he find himself more thankeful then he has ever been to be sent to Winterfell. If only so he didn't turn out like his siblings. Hopefully their eyes was pried open to reality soon before a blade was thrust into them.


Speeding up his horse he waited until he could not hear their voices and barely see their forms in the distance before slowing Ash to a gentle trot. Moving he sat sideways on the saddle and took a drink from his flask before he grabbed his small pouch and munched on the jerky he had stored there for the journey. He had ignored breakfast believing they were leaving before dawn and hadn't thought to get any when it became obvious they were not. Watching the world before him he waited nervously but determinedly for the familiar form of Kings landing to appear and after that the red keep. He needed to be prepared for anything while decisions were still being made.

Spoiler

Theons clothes: This over a dark red tunic with leather pants and knee high brown leather hunting boots. He also carries his bow and arrows.

 

[Israfeli]

Wearing a brown cloak that covered his armor, Daemon was sitting at the entrance of King's Landing, picking at his lyre. "It's always summer, under the sea, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh. The birds have scales, and the fish take wing, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh. The rain is dry, and the snow falls up, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh. The stones crack open, the water burns. The shadows come to dance, my lord, the shadows come to play. The shadows come to dance my lord, the shadows, come to stay." Daemon lazily plucked the strings as he sang; occasionally, some Kingslander would throw a penny at him. Daemon grinned when a silver stag landed in his lap. "Thank you." he said to the patron. "May I play a song of your choosing?"


"The Rains of Castamere." The blonde woman requested. "In honor of the Lannisters, and great Lord Tywin, may the gods bless his soul."


Daemon started plucking his lyre in a different pattern. "And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low? Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know." Daemon saw the Tully banner-men enter the city, and stood to approach the three noble Tullys as he sang and plucked. "In a coat of gold, or a coat of red, a lion still has claws, and mine are long and sharp, my lord, as long and sharp as yours. And so he spoke, and so he spoke, that Lord of Castamere...." Daemon let the note play for a few seconds. "But now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear. And noooow the rains weep o'er his haaaaaaaaaaall..." Daemon slightly raised his voice with the two words he gave more time to, "...and not a soul to hear."


___________________________


"The pleasure is all mine, Lord Lannister." Nymeria curtsied for Ethaniel. "I do so hope that your journey from Casterly Rock was a pleasant one. I have heard many good things about you and House Lannister. Your wisdom is well known throughout Westeros."


"It is also well known that you are in need of a bride with whom to sire an heir." Elia added.

 

[Gospeller]

At the approached of the Lord Commander, Kross bowed deeply in respect. Whether it was appropriate or not, he was uncertain about, however, he was prepared to return to a somewhat formal state. "It is a pleasure, Lord Commander." A short nod followed. "Many and many - t's but a handfull. I am not usually up for parading men of honour nor' honed skills, but these soldiers most certainly deserve it." A few of the men shook slightly in their plated boots, a sense of pride overcoming them, perhaps for the worst. "Thank you kindly for the readied quarters." At the suggestion of a thorough introduction, Kross gave a solid nod. "I am most certain that if you would want a thorough introduction, then any of the men present would be more than happy to oblige. I know them all by name." In Kross' army, not a single name would go unspoken, that was something he had vowed to himself.

Viserys' words echoed towards him, and he held up a plated hand in salute. "Simply for the safety of the road - as well as to properly show the support we are willing to give. Do not feel uneasy, for we come here with high hopes." Kross grabs his helmet, undoing a few leather straps before bearing it by his side, his bold, jagged face showing. His jaw was sharp enough to cut rocks, and his eyebrows were constantly knotted, giving a sense of ferocity and urgency.

Nymeria's comment went well heard by Kross, despite the chaos of interactions that was starting to slowly form around him. The only response that was given was a simple twitch of his scarred right cheek, the sown veins of conflict quivering ever so slightly.

Whipping his hand upwards in a quick gesture, most of the heavy-armored men split from the group and stood outside the Red Keep, well in formation. Four of them stayed by Kross. With a nod of acknowledgement and respect towards the Lord Commander, he made his way into the courtyard of the Red Keep.​

 

[Khryses]

With all the new arrivals (the Tyrells, the Baratheons and most especially the King's) the security situation in the courtyard outside the Red Keep has rapidly grown far too intense for the Lord Commander's comfort. He signaled Ser Anders earlier on his way to greet the Tyrells, and now a fresh company of guardsmen in Targaryen red and black spilled into the yard. They didn't directly confront the heavily armored men at arms, but lined up along the rear wall on either side of the stairway Viserys descended. Ser Anders gave them a last assessing glance, and when another pair of Whiteshields arrived and stood at the King's back he returned his attention to the conversation.


Harys seemed pleased by Kross' courtesies, as well as his clear understanding of reasonable limits in showing his military might. "Of course, my Lord. The Master of Coin has arranged barracks in the city for any sizable escorts his guests might have brought with them, so they will have quarters for the duration of your stay; your four personal guards are of course welcome to stay in your outer suite." He nodded once more, then smiled. "On a more personal level, I look forward to meeting your champions and perchance crossing swords with them. I leave you to His Grace, my Lord Tyrell."


Ser Anders one step behind to his right, Lord Commander Buckwell walked across the courtyard to greet the Baratheon party stalling by the gate. "Well met my Lord; Welcome to King's Landing, and the Red Keep."