Fantasy 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒

[social]

“Princess! Oh, Princess! A moment of your time please!”

“Your Highness! Are you staying for long?”

“Oh, Princess Naelys!”

The calls and chirps of her name and title filled the air as the woman walked, her heels clicking softly on the cobblestone. She was no stranger to being adored by the commonfolk, but she did not expect it from those in Nireath. In her own country, those who wished to speak with her were much more reserved in their advances. They did not push against each other with outstretched hands, desperate to feel her flesh for themselves. She was on edge, but not uncomfortable. Malaenys, William and even her cousin Diablo were all present with her, allowing a sense of comfort to infiltrate her nervous system despite the lack of a blade on her person.

“Mal-” Turning her head to speak to her twin, a rather unexpected sensation caused her to jerk her arm away as she saw a stranger holding onto her. The world seemed to turn to silence as they multiplied much to her horror. Hands and bodies swarmed her and the other royals, fingers scratching and yanking on the fabric of her dress. Her mind whirled as she tried to shake her limbs free of the aggressors, but she had little success. A flash of steel-colored armor collided with the back of one of the men who had a hold on her and Naelys felt herself fall. As if she were diving off a cliff, her stomach tightened and cooled considerably before she made an impact.

The table of the vendor collided roughly with her skull, sending white bolts of electricity through her, the pops and fizzles clouding her vision as she collapsed rather quickly to the ground. There was a ringing in her ears and a searing heat on the side of her, something she quickly identified to be blood. The noises came flooding back within seconds, pure and utter chaos having formed within mere moments. William found her crumpled frame without delay and helped her to her feet, careful to protect her as the fight progressed. Dazed and defenseless, Naelys found her voice after minutes of being trapped behind her guard, the cold armor speckled with crimson blood.

Her raised words fell upon deaf and angered ears as the fighting continued before forcibly being broken up by the city guards. Naelys felt relief wash over her as she was carefully escorted by William and the guards of Nireath, a steady hand always waiting to catch her in case she stumbled. But walking through the streets with blood-matted hair and a tattered dress was the least of her worries. Upon arriving at the castle, the furious and concerned expressions of her parents were the first she saw. Marak’s eyes were ablaze with anger as he stalked towards the group of royals and guards, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“I should have your heads on spikes! How dare you be so foolish as to let harm befall my heir? Not to mention the other members of my kin who have been caught up in such a mess!” Hardened eyes threatened the guards of Nireath before making their rounds through those present. Naelys kept her head held high and narrowed her eyes at her father, not exactly pleased by the situation.

“Your Grace I am mostly unharmed. I would receive a worse injury in training than this. It is but a minor wound,” her words were calm and direct as if she were the only one trying to reign in their anger. “There is no reason to-”

“DO NOT tell your king there is no reason to worry. My heir and your successor could have been killed Naelys. Do not lecture me about diplomacy. I want ANSWERS!” The flared temper of King Marak never seemed to spare his children if they attempted to defuse the situation at all. A scoff left the princess as she turned her gaze from her father in favor of looking at the blood that ran down the clenched fingers of her guard, dripping onto the marble flooring below.

“Husband, do not blame our children for the mistakes that could have occurred at any time. Festivals such as this, are known to bring out extremists who are quite enamored with families such as ours.” Aerela’s voice was cool and smooth as she placed a delicate yet scarred hand on her husband’s forearm, hoping to ease the grip he had on his sword. “Let the maesters tend to our daughter and we can have a calm discussion about what happened.”

Without delay, the princess was escorted to temporary chambers where she was cleaned up and questioned. The conversation made her head ache more than the pressing and prodding of the maesters as their skilled hands tended to her wounds. A thin needle and thread stitched her flesh together in her hairline, only two stitches, just to ensure that the deepest portion of the wound would remain closed for the evening. It stung and made her fingers twitch, but she did not complain, her eyes sharply focused on the tapestries near the bed. Gods, Nireath royalty was almost as gaudy as Araes’.

Footsteps receded down the halls, the echo of the chamber doors closing being the only clue that anyone had exited the room. She was allowed a moment to breathe, to recover from the shock of the day’s events, in the company of her guard. Quiet words were exchanged as bloodied fingers lightly touched, gentle and vulnerable expressions for only each other to take in. His name was spoken gently as she thanked him for assisting her and questioned if he was alright and unscathed. The heat of battle and conflict was not foreign to either of them, the stench of freshly spilled blood and lost lives often filled their lungs when they followed the call of war. Smoke and fire usually followed, a sense of exhilaration of life filling them to the brim before they overflowed into an embrace.

But fleeting touches and warm gazes were cut short by rapid knocks and a servant entering her chambers. Long blonde hair fluttered in the air as she walked, her curious gaze lingering on the distance between the princess and her guard. Naelys paid no attention to it and simply got out of her seat in order to get dressed. Without turning her head, she parted her lips to speak, the words coming out without hesitation. “Thank you Ser William, that will be all.” The man did not waste time in leaving, their cold gazes catching only for a second as she watched him leave from the corner of her eye. Red and gold were stripped from her body before neatly laid across the light teal covers of the bed, mud, and blood soiling the hem, harsh tears lingering on the garment.

“This is a gift from Princess Vysenya. She said you wanted to wear your house’s colors so this is what she provided for you this evening,” layers of gold glinted in the warm light of the sun and Naelys fought the urge to scrunch her face up in annoyance. There was far too much skin exposed for her liking but she didn’t protest it. Thin and quick fingers washed her body quickly, erasing any traces of dirt or blood from her scarred skin. There was a sense of hesitation as the damp cloth lingered above Naelys’ arms, almost unsure of how to approach the uneven expanse of flesh.

“It does not hurt. Do what you must to get me ready in time.” A quick nod and a small noise left the girl as she wiped the woman’s limbs down with ease, paying special attention to her fingernails. Once cleaned, the golden dress was placed upon her body, the corset tightly laced, leaving little room for her to breathe too deeply. “I suppose I won’t be dancing in this condition.” The remark was even and could’ve been taken as a joke, but the lack of amusement in her eyes left little room for interpretation. Smoothing out the material of the skirt, she seated herself for her hair to be fixed, a bored expression forming on her features as she looked out the window, wondering when the night was going to end.

The dance was far too noisy and far too bouncy. Naelys lifted a goblet of wine to her lips and allowed herself to sip on the liquid, clearly finding more amusement in nursing the alcohol than finding a partner to dance with. A few eligible bachelors found their way to her side, charming conversation falling flat as she made little effort to entertain them. The raging headache did not allow for many pleasantries. “Princess, you seem bored with this event, I am surprised! I thought that those from Rhaeclya often enjoyed our parties,” the man next to her had a large lopsided grin plastered on his face that made the woman almost scoff.

“Ser, you are thinking of my two siblings. They partake in your wine too greedily and often find themselves waking up next to a sow in a dirty stable.” Her voice was unamused as she pointed to her two siblings, one of which being Malaenys who seemed to be speaking with other royals and guards. “They are far more interested in indulging in your culture and nightlife than I. I also have quite a headache and do not wish to be disturbed by meaningless dances and stolen kisses upon my hand.” Turning her head, she allowed the bruised skin to be visible to the man, causing an awkward puff and chuckle to escape him.

“You know, Your Grace, if you keep acting so hard to please, I may find that to be a challenge worth pursuing.”

Tags: Open | Location: Lapis Palace | Wearing: 01 02 03

coded by social

 

[social]

A day spent out in the sun was something that Daemond had not really anticipated. Laughter and cheers echoed in his ears as the heat soaked into his skin. He forgot the scent of the salty air of Nireath, how the people were, and ultimately how it felt to be the prince. Rehearsed lines fell from his lips and ghosts of charming smiles lingered as he escorted his partner for the day. The stress and anxieties that had plagued him normally weighed heavily on his mind, for once, they were pushed to the side and allowed the man to enjoy himself. Light conversation was cut short upon rounding a corner, his arm instinctively extending across Aelina’s body to prevent her from continuing forward.

The harsh smell of old blood made his stomach grow cold as he watched a few lingering bodies get plucked off the ground and carried in the direction of the church. Suddenly every fear and paranoid thought flooded back to the front of his mind, causing his heart to race a little. He thought that he had escaped it, the needless bloodshed, the violence, the hatred, but it had already made its way into the borders and heart of his own home. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword as the other held Aelina close to his side, her hands grasping his arm tightly, keeping them glued together as they quickly made their way through the streets.

The hours passed upon arriving at the castle where the pair separated and Daemond found himself in the small council room with Aelon and Elaella. Hushed and angered words were tossed around as the three tried to find out what exactly had happened. Vysenya had briefly appeared to give her testimony about what had occurred, but they still didn’t know why. Nireath had been mostly at peace after another heir had been named, so it didn’t make sense. The nagging sensation that something deeper was going on filled Daemond’s chest, but he kept his mouth shut. Nobody had infiltrated the castle, it wasn’t like before.

After the meeting between the three concluded, he found himself sitting in his chambers until the beginning of the ball. A nervous leg bounced as he stared at the large painting by the fireplace. He could always escape, there was always a way out, so why did he feel like a rat trapped in a cage? Sweat rolled down his neck and he felt a chill run through him. The castle had been breached before, what was going to stop it from happening again?

Daemond shook his head and stood up from his bed as the bells rang through the palace, signaling the start of the festivities. Making his way through the endless walls, he soon found himself in the ballroom, the smell of expensive food and alcohol already thick in the air. The twirling of skirts had not changed since the last time he had attended such a party. Glittering gold and silver adorned the bodies of the women of court as they beautifully danced about the room, captivating onlookers. Daemond’s own attention was stolen by the luxurious fabrics swirling around the dance floor, allowing his mind to wander to things that he rarely thought about.

His mind drifted as he watched the dancing, hardly hearing or seeing the woman who approached him. But her voice cut through his thoughts abruptly, the compliments towards the decor and festival causing him to snap his head in her direction, a slightly surprised expression on his face. “This room is quite extravagant. It is where many royal festivities are celebrated.” Clearing his throat, Daemond tried to regain a semblance of his usual composure as he clasped his hands in front of his body, dark eyes flickering between Aelina and the polished floor.

“Fancy some dancing?” The question was innocent and sweet, something that he had gathered to be the primary making of the girl’s personality. While he knew why she was approaching him and why he was encouraged to spend time with her, he felt that at least a friendship would be worth forming. Being friends in an arranged marriage was rare, and sometimes it could end quite poorly. He remembered the last time he had been engaged, the confusing emotions that came with it, and ultimately the way he disappeared without a second thought. The weight of being loved or at least liked in such an intimate manner, it had made his skin crawl and set his heart racing with uncertainty. He didn’t know how one could return such a feeling.

A small, polite smile formed on his lips as he nodded his head and extended his hand to the red-haired princess. The tips of his fingers were cool against the woman’s arm skin, but she was from Tun so at least he knew she could handle such a sensation. Nerves and concern still plagued his mind as the pair walked into the center of the room, his hands naturally moving to where they needed to be. The muscle memory of countless hours of practice certainly did come in handy. “I must apologize for that ghastly scene you saw today. It is not common for such things to occur, even if you hear otherwise. But I am glad we caught the tail end of it.” Daemond’s hands were steady on Aelina’s frame as they easily danced about the room, turning, twirling, and spinning as needed.

It was nothing spectacular but it was good enough for them to fit in with the rest of the crowd, their interactions not going unnoticed by certain royals. Whispered easily were traded amongst spectators as they watched the mysterious woman from Tun dance with their prince. Gossip in Nireath spread faster than fire, so it was not long before King Aelon was approaching Aelina’s father, the pair engaging in conversation, with rather proud expressions on their faces as they looked at the couple dancing and then back at each other. “I do believe, an engagement is in the process of being formed.” The comment left the prince quietly, only loud enough for Aelina to hear. “I suppose we should focus on becoming friends then, to avoid the more awkward aspects of such an arrangement.”

Tags: Aelina Braelor junegloom | Location: Lapis Palace | Wearing: 01

coded by social

 

[Top11]

Drak Vaele Heir of Tun.

Bothered

Lapis Palace

social

01

“Why are you so bullheaded, first you send the Maesters away, now you refuse to wear the eyepatch,just wear the damn thing, your eye is bloodshot red and you’re to attend a ball commemorating the newfound alliances, and just maybe you’ll get a good match out of things.“ King Tarik said sternly grabbing Drak by the shoulder obviously growing tired of debating with the prince.



“ Father I will do no such thing everyone will see what these mongrels have done today, along with what they couldn’t do! And I have no need of a match just to pacify the ideas of an alliance, I have proved that today with my own life. The royal family of Rhaeclya has been a constant ally for Tun in my lifetime, and is just the reason I forced myself into that circle beside them. In times of dismay you be there for who’s been there for you, and actions like that is the reason this alliance between the north and south is as strong as it is.” Drak said sharply looking into his fathers eyes wearing an empty look on his face his mind obviously elsewhere.



“Fine wear whatever the fuck you want, you have two hours until the ball starts be present and presentable son, you’re the heir of Tun there’s a target on your back, always.” King Tarik said turning and walking out of the room pulling the door behind him.



King Tarik’s final words began to playback in Drak’s head, his fathers voice beginning to morph into a familiar feminine voice, forcing a memory of a conversation him and Saena had earlier about the boldness of the disgruntled commoners leading up to the melee. This event had been premeditated, and for them to be bold enough to go through with their actions means it had to be someone powerful urging them on. Before Drak could go on further weaving ideas, and possibilities he knew his best option was to to swallow the urge to investigate and wait until he can discuss it with Saena he knew of noone else who could gather information better.

---

Drak sat at a partially empty table with a few nobles from Tun around him, Heirs from different houses the offspring that make up the future of Tun all without mention sharing a bit of unease and distaste with the events of today except for Saena, she often if not always managed to mask her emotions, the music, dancing, it all seemed unrealistic, royals assaulted in the streets and a mere few hours later were partying to celebrate an alliance that obviously the people of the hosting kingdom doesn’t support, King Marak and Drak’s father are both cut from the same cloth and is the reason why this so called peace is baffling.



Scanning the floor Drak noticed his sister along with Aelina whirling around the dance floor, a young Noble of Rhaeclya with his sister, and the Bastard Prince with Aelina. Then there were Mal, Vysenya, along with a man from Araes crowded around a table talking and drinking, then Naelys getting her ear talked off by the Nireath ship master. Everyone looked to be somewhat enjoying themselves why shouldn’t he looking over to the beauty who always seemed to be at his side.



“Princess, you are far to stunning to be seated at this table, care to dance?” Drak said standing up and taking Saena by the hand her soft hand resting in his, making their way toward the dance floor, wrapping an arm around her back he pulled her close pressing their bodies together her.



“We have yet to discuss today’s incident, I feel as if it were premeditated, by someone who holds a fairly powerful position, someone like Ser Rewan after the incident he arrived with a number of soldiers who were all free of duty, amassing that many men that quickly without having any on the royal route is a blunder to large to blame as a mistake. “ Drak whispered softly in her ear too low for anyone to hear as he gave her a spin causing the skirt of her dress to fill with air, before pulling her back into his chest.



“Find out what you can as quick as you can, I don’t want this to blow over as if nothing happened.” Interrupted by movement amongst the monarchs Drak cut his eyes towards his father, King Aelon, and Lord Braelor all watching Aelina and Prince Daemond although his father was more focused on Briar and Theo, the arrangements we’re already at work who was to be next, himself, Saena, the very thought began to make his blood boil.

coded by natasha.

 

[neverbackdown]

Briar Vaele
Princess of Tun

NO NO NO NO NO

Nireath - Ballroom

Teritheon WanderLust.

Click Me

Sitting in her chambers with her Mother, Briar did her best to keep her commentary to herself as their lady in waiting hands expertly worked on the princess' hair, twirling and plaiting the front pieces back and out of her face to all flow in elegant curls down her back. Her hands were held on her lap as her eyes looked down at the beautifully crafted green silk dress that she was wearing. She could hear her father and brother fighting in a distant room but she pushed the voices from her mind as she focused instead on the night ahead, there was nothing she could do to help Drak now but she made a mental note to find him at the ball and confirm that he was ok but for now she must sit still and remain pleasant as her Mother spoke to her once again of behaviors and manners.

As the lady announced that her hair was complete, Briar stood slowly and stepped towards her mother before twirling slowly to give her mother the full effect. She still didn't understand why her mother had insisted on Briar wearing a new elegant dress nor why she insisted that greater care be taken in her hair and overall appearance. Since tensions were already so high due to the earlier violence, Briar decided that her mother's action were purely as a way to exploit her nervous energy and so for once Briar obliged her mother's fussing and kept her mouth shut. Once happy with her appearance the pair made their way down to the ballroom and towards their families table.

Standing beside her mother, Briar couldn't help but smile at the joyfulness of the room, it seemed as though all tension and worry washed away at the door as music and laughter filled the air. As her mother began to approach the topic of marriage, Briar turned to her with a raised eyebrow and a hint of confusion playing on her expression as she tried to figure out her hidden meaning. Her eyes drifted towards Drak as her mother continued to speak about relationship building and she couldn't help but wonder if her parents were planning to set both of them up with people or just one of them. She hoped that it was just purely talk but the knotting feeling only seemed to get tighter the more she thought about it.

Having enough of the conversation at hand, Briar turned to walk away when movement in front of her caught her eye, drawing her attention towards the obnoxious jerk from the races. Briar quickly turned in her place but was surprised to see her mother standing behind her, blocking her escape.

"Oh he's handsome coming towards you, you will dance with him"

Her mother's voice was sweet but there was an unmistakable sternness present that made it obvious to Briar she did not have a choice in this matter. Sighing to herself in defeat, Briar turned just in time for the Prince's introduction, a sweet smile played on her lips as she curtseyed in response before taking his hand and allowing him to lead them onto the dancefloor. Their feet moved perfectly in sync, gracefully swaying around the dance floor as they moved in time with both each other and the music, if only she was dancing with someone else. His voice broke her from her trance and she looked up at him "Princess Briar Vaele of Tun" she replied as she chose to indulge in the fictitious scenario of his but his next comment broke the bubble and before she knew it, Briar had slammed her heels down onto Theo's foot, ensuring that the heel made contact with the softest and most painful area that she could manage.

A smirk played on her lips as she watched him wince "Oh I'm sorry, big brown eyes like mine should have seen your foot there" to anyone overhearing the conversation her tone was sweet and would sound somewhat apologetic but the look in her eyes would confirm to Teritheon that there was no sincerity behind her tone. She was not one to be walked over and she would not bow down for anyone especially someone as arrogant as the man in front of her.

As he spun her, Briar couldn't help the fear that began to creep up on her that he was going to drop her. A small insignificant thing but to be dropped at a ball like this was the ultimate embarrassment and dismissal and one that she knew her family would not appreciate. For a brief second she felt relieved that his body was flush to hers as he dipped her, her body involuntarily tingled as she felt his hot breath against her neck but then he spoke and the second was over, leaving her irritated at the entire situation.

"And I promise you if you play this game, I will watch you crash and burn" she practically growled in response, refusing to show any sign of intimidation to the Prince. He was arrogant, pig headed handsome and thankfully would never be in her presence again after this ball and it was this reminder that allowed her to place the smile back on her lips to show the room that she was having fun and a good time with the Prince of Rhaeclya.

As the pair straightened and the music began to slow, Briar allowed her hands to drop from the Princes' as she readied to move back to her family "It was an honor to dance with you Prince Teritheon". Without waiting his response, Briar turned to walk awake but was taken by surprise by her Father standing directly behind her.

"An excellent pairing it seems" her father beamed as he stood to stand beside the pair "It is lovely to see the newly engaged sharing a dance".

Briar's eyes widened as she looked at her father in confusion, her breath caught in her throat before an almost murderous glint played in her eyes "The newly what" she exclaimed in an aggravated hushed voice. Even in her current angry state she knew better than to make her feelings known to the public. She turned to look at Theo and noticed the same expression on his face but still she had to ask the question "did you know about this?"

 

[junegloom]

scroll

abandoned royal

Callum.

outfit

Araes Royal Guard Uniform

location

Nireath

interactions

Malaenys and Vysenya

tags

social

Everything happened so quickly. At first, it was crowding, with a commoner here and there being pushed closer. It took nothing more than a raised arm to protect his charge, but before Callum could process it, it broke into full blown chaos. Shoving, grabbing, shouting. It was enough to overwhelm anyone’s senses. However, this was exactly what Callum was trained for. While his surroundings were loud and chaotic, his mind was quiet and sharp.

He shouted at the people shoving through the crowd to get back, shoving them out of reach of the royal— he forgot his name, that he was escorting. He never drew his sword, believing lethality should be the absolute last resort, though his hand rested firmly on the hilt. In his opinion, drawing it would only cause more panic and aggression. In the midst of the panic, he took care to keep his focus on the one person he was charged with protecting, not wanting any distractions to allow for an attack of opportunity.

Callum did nothing but shove and elbow the crowd away, which thankfully, was all he needed to do. While, yes, he loved swordplay and was an experienced guard, violence was never his first reaction. His common upbringing made him very aware of how often guards unjustly drew their swords or swung their fists. Unnecessary bloodshed was not something Callum could ever justify.

Just as quickly as it began, the frenzy was over. Callum’s hair was dampened with sweat and his chest was heaving from the activity. He surveyed the damage done. His relief came not from his own well-being nor the royal’s he was escorting, but another’s safety altogether. A quick meeting of the eyes told him everything he needed to allow himself to relax.

Thankfully, both he and his royal made it back to the castle relatively unscathed. He couldn’t say the same for those left bloodied and lifeless in the wake of the now-dispersed crowd. It was unfortunate.

At the castle, Callum gave his briefing, explaining his perspective before being dismissed to prepare himself for the ball. He cleaned himself up and surveyed his body for any injuries. He was bruised with a minor cut or two, but there was nothing serious.

---

He was standing on the sidelines, observing the festivities when Prince Malaenys found him. Officially, he was supposed to be on duty, watching out for the royals, especially those from Araes, during the ball, ensuring their safety— especially after what had happened earlier in the day. Socializing with friends would certainly be discouraged, however, who was he to dismiss a royal from his presence? That would be unforgivable.

He greeted Mal with a formal bow, as was his duty, despite the fact that the pair were friends. It was an interesting dynamic with their difference in ranking. As Mal leaned against the wall, Cal kept his posture upright and rigid, knowing he’d be scolded if he so much as slouched.

Movement in the corner of his eye signaled that someone was approaching them. Princess Vysenya. Once again, Callum bent in a formal bow as she greeted Mal. The corners of his lips twitched up into the slightest of smiles as the prince introduced the pair.

“Princess, it is an honor to formally meet you. I trust that you are well after the incident?”

He surveyed her appearance, looking for any visible injuries. He met her eyes for just a moment before looking back to Mal.

“Well, I cannot deny that you are a skilled fighter, my lord,” Callum placed a slight emphasis on the formalities, as he always did when he was in the presence of others. Almost an inside joke between the friends. “But I do not always see the need for responding with immediate violence. There’s no need to unnecessarily escalate the situation. Though, my concern is less about you than it is for bored guards provoking common folks just so they can draw their swords.”

Even though many guards come from a common background, just as Callum did, they saw themselves above the masses and looked to assert the little power they held. It repulsed him. Callum was not above indulging in the privileges that came from the status as a royal guard, however, he did not antagonize the commoners just because he could.

He looked back towards Vysenya.

“Princess, I must say that Nireath puts on an impressive festival and ball. It is quite an accomplishment. It does make me wish I could take part in the festivities, but alas, my duties come first, even outside of my kingdom.”

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[junegloom]

scroll

estranged cousin

Aelina.

outfit

dress, hair

location

Nireath

interactions

Daemond

tags

social

Aelina let Daemond guide her to the dance floor. They fell into synchronized steps quickly, matching the others around them. She didn’t have many opportunities to properly dance, so it was a relief when he agreed. It was an even bigger relief when he proved to be a fair dancer as well. Aelina could enjoy the dancing without the fear of her feet being stepped on or being spun in the wrong direction.

She gave a small smile and shook her head at Daemond’s apology.

“There’s no need for you to apologize. It could have happened in any kingdom. There’s always a risk in crowds like that. If anything, I should be thanking you for keeping me so thoroughly entertained on our tour because that kept us out of harm’s way,” she assured. “Incident aside, it was a lovely time.”

Daemond’s observation made her search the crowds for her father. Seeing him deep in discussion with King Aelon confirmed his suspicion in her mind. She was certain that was what they were discussing. She raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“That was faster than I thought,” she laughed in response.

It was clear what her parents' intentions were the moment they encouraged her to go off with Daemond without them. To let her go off in an unfamiliar place alone was unheard of for her parents. They had been reminding her to follow close behind them just moments before their meeting the royal family of Nireath. However, she assumed she’d have at least another meeting with Daemond or maybe two before the engagement was solidified.

Of course, she didn’t mind all that much. He had been perfectly pleasant company the whole day, and she was able to trust him in that moment of unease. She was pleased with the match, surprised she was matched with the son of a king. With her lack of reputation, she was sure she was to be paired off with someone who was fine but overall unimpressive.

Not to mention, today proved that she was much better suited to Nireath’s climate than Tun’s. She was a bit disappointed that she would be returning home so soon.

Aelina looked up at Daemond. She thought of him as a friendly figure, but they were not actually friends just yet. They knew little about each other, save from what they shared in the light conversations they had throughout the day. Arranged marriages are tricky, it was hard being sent off to spend the rest of your life with a near stranger. Her parents grew to love each other— or at the very least, care for each other, but they were a rarity.

“I agree. Why don’t we spend the night getting to know each other? We can take turns asking each other questions. I’ll go first.” She took a moment to think of her first question. “What do you like to do? I mean, if you have a free day, and no responsibilities, what do you do for fun?”

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[social]

A harsh wind blew up the staircase as she descended them, the torch flickering in her hand. The crisp air was a sharp contrast to the warm and comfortable weather outside the castle, but she was used to far colder conditions. Deeper and deeper she went, the echoes of those in the castle were soon lost, only the dripping of water could be heard. When the stairs finally ended, she found herself approaching a large iron door, which she lightly knocked on three times before pulling it open. Within the room, her father resided, a few small pieces of parchment laid out on the table, a pot of ink next to it. Her father’s connections never failed to amaze her, always able to find himself in the belly of a castle or family that he could potentially control.

“What have you heard?” The silver-haired man did not raise his head as his quill easily danced across the worn pages. Saena’s lips pursed for a moment as she thought about all the information and rumors she had heard throughout the day. Approaching the desk, she ran her fingers mindlessly across the cold wood, trying to get small glimpses of what he was writing.

“There is unrest in the kingdom. It seems that someone has been feeding the poor some rather nasty rumors about the alliances and the royal family of Nireath. The Prince was caught up in a fight today, something that I am sure will not bode well with him.” Yraegar’s empty hand seemed to twitch at the mention of Tun’s heir but he did not look up from the pages nor did he stop writing. “I heard whispers of a possible engagement between Prince Daemond and Princess Aelina of House Braelor. Nothing seems set in stone but I did overhear her parents talking about her securing a suitable match from Nireath.”

“Anything else?”

“Your meddling with Briar’s marriage has had positive results. The king will be announcing her arrangement tonight when she meets him. I’m sure that she will not be pleased but I’m sure she will not fight the commands of her king and queen.” Saena leaned against the desk, her hands resting softly in front of her. The scratching of the quill soon ceased as her father placed it back in the pot of ink and leaned back in his chair, his icy gaze cold and pointed as he looked past his daughter, mulling over what she had been saying. “Araes is a concern that you were right to fear. From what I have found, the stability of the crown and the kingdom seems to be slipping, but nobody admits it. There was a meeting between one of the royals and the Hand about certain activities back in their kingdom. Though my informant was unable to gather exactly what it was, just that it was very important to keep track of it. Additionally, from what I have gathered, that royal, Stilgar, is currently cozying up to the youngest of King Marak. I assume either for political means or he is simply fond of the girl.”

An eyebrow raised as the man began to fold and seal the parchment. “Good work. Now go and soothe the nerves of that prince. I do not want him to cause unnecessary stress to the alliances.” Saena did not have to be told twice. She left the room and ascended the stairs once more, prepared to do whatever she needed to mend the fraying bridge between Tun and Nireath.

TW: Violence~
Sipping wine from the golden goblet, Saena laughed at one of the noble’s jokes, clearly content with entertaining them during her downtime. She was aware of the crown prince by her side, but she was fielding meaningless and annoying conversations so he did not have to deal with them. The injury to his face was glaringly obvious and had caused many whispers when he entered the ballroom. Saena, being the mistress of words, easily wove a tale of the great crown prince of Tun jumping to the aid of his allies, helping them in such an unfortunate situation. Sympathy and gratitude had been extended towards the man as they found it noble for a man of his position to physically defend the honor of other royals from neighboring kingdoms. There was little mention or care towards the fate of the commonfolk who had been the aggressors. Drak’s voice easily cut through the conversation she was having, causing her attention to focus on him.

“I would be honored to dance with you, my prince.” A smile formed on her lips as she set down her goblet and stood up, their hands naturally finding each other’s. The pair made their way to the dance floor and all the years of practicing and attending such events immediately came into play. Resting her hand on his arm, their bodies closely pressed together, allowing for intimate conversations to not be overheard by neighboring couples. Such closeness, well, it was easy for those in attendance to put together the relationship that the two royals had. Drak’s whispered words were far different from anything anyone would anticipate him bringing up, but to Saena, this was something worth indulging.

A request to investigate the captain of the city guards and the day's events? Well, that was an exciting prospect. Spinning softly, waves of green fabric gently twirled in the air before she was promptly pulled back to his side, a small grin on her face as she looked at him. The frustration at the situation earlier in the day seemed to be bubbling up inside of the man, and she could not blame him. “I will do what I can to find out more about him and those being questioned.” Saena’s gaze shifted as she watched Drak’s attention snap to his father, naturally observing the arrangements that the king was making for the prince’s sister. “Do not worry, your father is not a fool. He wouldn’t arrange anything unsafe for your sister to marry into.” Saena moved her hand to rest over Drak’s chest, a surprisingly gentle expression on her face, something that most likely was reserved only for the man she was dancing with.

“There is truly no reason to worry, Drak. We will take care of things and figure out what is going on.” Her words were soft and seemingly genuine, but quickly her expression returned to her usual one, a polite smile and curious eyes as they continued to dance. She could feel the cool gaze of her father as he entered the ballroom to exchange a few words with the guards of Tun, his lips hidden behind a well-placed letter, keeping his daughter from seeing what he was speaking about. “Make excuses for my absence, I’m sure my father or yours will inquire about my whereabouts. If they press for answers, say I have taken a bit ill after too much wine. I will be back shortly.” The dance soon concluded, and once it did, Saena gave Drak’s hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance before excusing herself, her eyes carefully scanning the crowd of the location of Ser Rewan.

The dark-haired man was seated near the king of Nireath, meaning she had more opportunity to get information out of those under the castle. Slipping out of the ballroom, Saena made her way down the hallway, ignoring the curious gazes of the soldiers who watched her depart. As she rounded the corner, the woman quickly slipped into a servant’s passage, her magic easily changing her appearance to that of Ser Rewan. The passageway led to another portion of the castle, allowing her to traverse the hallways directly and head for the dungeons. Armor was always a rather uncomfortable thing for her to wear and she hated every minute of it, but naturally, it was required of her for the moment. As she approached the entrance of the dungeons, the guards straightened up and looked ahead, allowing her to pass through without any resistance.

The halls were long and as she held the torch in her hand, she silently prayed that she would not mess up the questioning process. She only needed a little bit of information, that was all. The dungeons of Nireath were cold and smelled heavily of seaweed and salt. Due to the fact the ocean was constantly crashing against the cliffside the castle was built out of, it was no surprise that salt water made its way into the deepest part of the kingdom. “Ser Rewan, we did not expect you back so soon! I apologize, I did not- Welcome back Ser.” A surprised guard scrambled to his feet, a mug of beer knocking over in the process. Raising an eyebrow, she looked past the man at the cells behind him.

“Has any family tried to visit or speak on their behalf?”

“No, none. We have put out posters but nobody has inquired.”

“Have they said anything new?”

“No Ser, they have refused. The maesters wanted to take a break so tha-”

“We will not be giving them time to recover. We need the information now. The alliances are hanging by a thread due to such an incident, we need to know who organized this bullshit.” The words were certainly foreign on her lips, but she did not show this as she spoke. The other guard nodded his head then quickly grabbed keys from the wall and began to escort Saena back to where the prisoners from the small riot were being held. The smell of filth and blood was heavy in the air as the men from the fight lay on the ground curled up as much as possible, the shackles digging into their ankles and wrists. “Open the cell.”

The lock echoed as it was undone, allowing Saena entrance to the cell. “This was the ringleader correct?” The soldier nodded his head as the disguised woman approached the figure. He clearly had the most wounds from questioning earlier in the day. His face was caked in blood and mud, the contents of his stomach residing only a foot away from where he lay. Gloved fingers grasped his hair and pulled him up into a sitting position. “Tell me what you know. I do not wish to make your life harder than it is.” Upon further examination, the man did not seem to be the poor and starved ruffians that the rumors had painted the aggressors as.

His body was far more muscular than the average ruffian, he was built like a fisherman or farmer and it was obvious he had a constant source of food. His body, while covered in filth, did not have the layers of grime that she was familiar with when it came to those from the underside of the city. He was not tanned like those within the capital, and he certainly was not singing lies like those from Nireath would. He looked like someone from Nordua and he certainly knew the royals well enough to target them, but to target guests rather than the heir of Nireath who was next to the fight, well, it seemed more like a scheme to cause the other kingdoms to evacuate Nireath. Hiring a random farmer from a part of Nordua where nobody would notice their absence, well that was the smartest thing one could do. Nobody had come to claim or plead their cases, which made Saena believe that they truly weren’t from the capital at the very least.

“You aren’t from here are you. You aren't even a fighter.” The statements were quiet, her words were meant only for the prisoner to hear. The man’s eyes widened ever so slightly, causing a grin to form on her lips. “Who gave you passage to Silvaera?” There was no response, resulting in a sigh from the woman. “Well, I guess you won’t need this then.” With a swift movement from Saena, she pulled the dagger from its sheath, something that luckily was also disguised with magic, and held it gingerly in her hand, her eyes shifting to the hand of the prisoner. The blade quickly cut through flesh and bone, severing the digit from his hand. A scream left the man as blood quickly gushed from the wound and he tried to yank his hand back. An armored boot stepped on the back of his hand, pinning it to the ground.

“Still don’t remember?” Another finger was cut off, the heavy and warm smell of fresh blood filling her nose, sending a small chill through her body. Four fingers were removed from his dominant hand, causing shrieks and screams of pain to leave the man as she brutally cut through the joints. “I will take every finger and then, I will take what makes you a man. Now, is that truly worth protecting your employer?” The bloodied knife gently pressed against the lower abdomen of the man, causing a shrill cry to leave him. Nothing truly seemed to scare men more than losing the ability to have sex. A twisted smirk played on her lips as she leaned closer, her lips by the man’s ear, the knife pressing firmer into him. “Give me the name and as your God, I will spare you.”

A technique that she had used before when extracting information from someone was a bit difficult but she had mastered it over the years. The woman was able to layer the voices of different people, causing it to sound rather otherworldly, and in the cases of those who were deeply religious like many in Nordua, it sounded like a Seer's voice. A messenger of the Gods, someone that the Gods would take over to interact with mere mortals. The color drained from the man's body and even his tears stopped, truly stunned by the voice he was hearing. A trembling voice, barely loud enough to be understood, finally broke through the air. “M-M-Maester Rendal B-Borrell… He t-told us which sh-sh-ship w-would take us. Please my lord h-have mercy.” Pushing the man back down onto the ground, Saena stood up and walked over to the rather stunned guard and nodded her head curtly, signaling that she was finished.

“Feel free to kill that man. He is of little use to us. He is not the leader, just a deranged fanatic.” Panicked wails and cries filled the dungeon as the injured prisoner begged and pleaded, hitting the cell’s door in desperation. Saena picked up the cloak that had been taken off by the guard as he ate and drank, something that was deeply frowned upon. The woman took the fabric in her hands and wiped her blade and fingers clean, a pointed gaze sent towards the guard. “Get this cleaned before tomorrow or you will be eating pig’s feed for the remainder of your life.” Dropping the dirtied cloak, she looked at the crying prisoner for a moment before going back to the rather shaken guard. "One more thing, do not mention this. I do not wish to add more stress to the king. Just, clean this up and get it out of my hair." Exiting the dungeons, she did not speak to the other guards and made her way directly to her chambers, changing her appearance to that of a servant, allowing her to seamlessly blend in with her surroundings as she entered the room, a small sigh escaping her. She really didn’t enjoy such methods but it had to be done.

She had little trust in the fact this man was actually a maester as there was no way they would be so stupid. But she wouldn’t put it past a man. Quickly writing a note, the woman exited her chambers and found a servant that she often encountered when visiting Nireath. “Linly, I need this note delivered to Ser Rendal Borrell. Please find him, it is rather urgent. I am sure he is still here.” If there was anyone by that name and he resided within the castle, she knew that the servants could find him. The ginger-haired girl nodded her head and snatched the letter from Saena’s hand before gathering her cleaning equipment and promptly made her way to a servant’s passage, disappearing within seconds. A sigh escaped Saena as she gathered herself and made her way back to the ballroom, noting that the sun had fully set. Well, there was still time for an introduction to the man responsible for arranging the shipment of such men.

Her entrance into the ballroom was mostly unnoticed, except for the watchful gaze of her father, seemingly understanding that his daughter had done what she always did, found a secret. Whether she would share it with him was up for debate.

Tags: Drak Vaele Top11 | Location: Lapis Palace | Wearing: 01 02

coded by social

 

[Top11]

“ One full day, hah I was ready before we left! But there is its perks brother.” Alex said taking a drink of wine giving a wink to a pair of women obviously eyeing will and him. Today has been quite eventful luckily he was trailing the young princess as she thwarted her responsibilities for the day keeping him away from the royal route. Alex couldn’t help but be stumped at how daring it was for those people to think that would be a good decision, even if they were forced.



“I’m glad to see you’re okay, so it makes me comfortable saying this, Scare the fun away again and it’ll be me and you!” Alex said chuckling grabbing Will’s shoulder. Will has always been a good friend to Alex since he first became a Royal guard, providing insight along with being a great drinking partner, he always respected Will and his opinion even if he disagreed with him at the time.



“My friend, have a drink or two with me you won’t miss a beat until maybe your 5th or 6th one so just two won’t hurt. “ he said grabbing two drinks from a nearby server before spinning around shoving the cup of Ale into Will’s chest pushing him slightly, before chugging his own glass slamming it down on the table. Letting out a deep breath.



Alex knew Will had a rough day today and may still be worked up, especially after seeing how there were no headless body’s or dismembered limbs let Alex know that Will didn’t do what he was truly capable and justifiably able to do, and felt that a couple drinks would take the edge off for him.

 

[elanara]

mood :

over it

location :

the ball

outfit :

mentions :

Top11
social

interactions :

Top11

heir of rhaeclya's guard

william riven

Believe it or not, Will was actually trying not to drink that evening, at least not until later, when the ball was over and he was free to visit the famous wine houses of the city and drink until he passed out in a dark alley or the sun came up. Whichever came first.

All it took was dear old Alex shoving a pint of ale at him — the force of which nearly made him lose his footing — for him to change his mind. There was no protesting. Will grabbed the cup, paying no mind to the contents that came spilling over the top and onto his armor, and sipped gladly.

"Just one or two wont hurt."

Will raised an amused brow. "And when have I ever known you to limit yourself?" As he said this, he looked on as Naelys entertained suitor after suitor. They were everything he was not. Men of high nobility, far more educated and wealthy than he would ever be, with strong family names that extended back several generations.

He was no fool. He knew the purpose of events like these were to arrange marriages between royal families as a way of solidifying alliances. To think that Naelys wouldn't end up being used by her parents as political currency was incredibly naive. And yet, for some reason, the sheer thought of it — of her becoming some highborn lad's wife — twisted knots in his stomach. Left him with a slow, sinking feeling, knowing that whatever existed between them would never last.

He knew it. She knew it.

It was a hard truth they both chose to ignore — nevermind the fucking consequences.

Will sighed. Brushed the thought away. A small hint of satisfaction crept across his face as the princess turned down each and every suitor with as much as a few words.

Eventually another man made his way in to try his luck. Ser Harald Grey. He was the elder brother of the foolish dragon rider — oh for fuck's sake what was that bastard's name again? — from earlier that morning. Supposedly, the man had quite the reputation in Nireath for being an excellent sailor — and also for having multiple wives. Wives that had a tendency to die not long after taking their vows. How much of that was true, of course, was debatable. People loved to spin their stories. Still, whether it was the way Ser Harald Grey dressed, or carried himself, or something else he couldn't quite place, Will sensed just from looking at him from across the room that something about the man was off.

At any rate.

He turned his attention back to his friend. "And as for scaring away the fun, what makes you so sure they'd be interested in the likes of you anyway?" Will jested, referring to the two girls that had just been watching them from afar. "Besides, there'll be more fun to be had once this is over with — and far more options." He grinned, taking another sip from his cup.

coded by reveriee.

 

[pearjuice]

Juniper wasn't a fan of parties, and it wasn't any sort of relief that she wasn't technically working. The party was loud, fancy, and it was not a place she belonged even with the glitter still in her hair. She felt out of place in such an elegant and lively event. While most people wore smiles (even if they were polite) and beautiful suits or dresses, Juniper was not participating in such nonsense. She wasn't sure why else she was there, besides that added security for the heir was a good call. She felt personally responsible... and she may or may not have lost a bet with the pesky royal she spent so often babysitting. But she only had to kill one more hour before she could leave, or at the very least, stop pretending to socialize and drink. She was not there to get laid or have fun. She was still at work.

The mead in the elaborately decorated glass she held was mostly untouched. Juniper had a bad feeling about so many royals being under one roof, and though her heir had encouraged her to let loose for a short while, she couldn't bring herself to actually do so. Her brown eyes still observed the room repeatedly, watching for any well hidden weapons or even so much as a scathing glare that could possibly indicate trouble. On her way to dispose of her alcohol, she heard two men conversing about the likelihood of them getting laid.

Curiously, she followed their gaze and rolled her eyes.

While the girls they picked as their victims (willing victims, judging by how the girls giggled and looked over at the two men) were pretty, they were nightmares sent to Earth. Juniper knew both of them; one was a brunette and the other a blonde, two girls that loved to cause trouble and were more concerned about bragging rights for the men they bagged. They both, however, made it a habit to rob said men. Juniper had never gained tangible proof of them doing it, nor did she care enough to find a reason to, but she had heard the rumors.

"Those women probably aren't the trouble you're looking for," She told the two men, nodding in the direction of the two women who hadn't appreciated one of the men's staring; the blonde in particular had looked terrified. "Or if being pickpocketed is your thing, maybe make it a challenge for them. They like to rob their conquests."

Juniper thought one of the men looked familiar, but she wasn't sure. She took a sip of her mead, the burn a conflicting comfort in contrast to everything else around her. The fake pleasantries exchanged, the plastic smiles, the counterfeit stories people used to try and one up each other. She enjoyed playing mindgames with people, but not during such an important event. Her brain was working overtime to listen in on so many conversations and read between the lines. But the alcohol? At least that was real. The burn in her throat that expanded outwards once it hit her stomach was real, without a doubt.

Lacking the care to bother with introducing herself, she didn't, and she didn't bother with a fake smile either, until she saw a fair lady walk into the room without a man on her arm. She smirked, clasping her hands behind her back and nodding to the woman across the ballroom before looking at the man with dirty blonde hair.

"She, on the other hand, appears as if she may just want one fun night, and no keepsakes to remember the evening by."

Nireath's Guard

Juniper

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♡coded by uxie♡

 

[WanderLust.]

VASILYSSA DORGAERON
PRINCESS OF RHAECLYA

Apprehensive

The Kingdom of Nireath - Castle

Naelys social

Dress Hair Jewelry

It was not often that Vasilyssa Dorgaeron was seen sporting the colors of her house. She had always considered it a tragedy of her birth, to have been born into a family whose blood red banners clashed so harshly with her pale complexion, but tonight she had made an exception. Lyssa strode into the ballroom of the Lapis Palace clad in a crimson gown with subtle gold detailing. The fabric was slightly thicker than she would’ve preferred and brushed softly against the marble floors as she walked. A token lady in red, she only hoped that the same color hadn’t burned its way into her cheeks as she searched the crowded room for a familiar face.

The day’s events had been chaotic to say the least. Though she had not personally been present when the riot broke out in the streets, there was an air of wariness about the royals who had fallen victim to the violence. The unease was contagious as Lyssa studied the faces of the residential and visiting royals alike, a sense of guilt clouding her judgment and tying her stomach in knots. Rationally, she knew that her presence would not have changed the outcome and that both her siblings were more than capable of handling themselves, but some part of her still wished that she had been there to support them.

Inevitably, King Marak and Queen Aerela had come to check on their youngest child before the night’s festivities, but they were understandably less concerned with Lyssa than they had been with the twins. Her mother had given her an approving smile when she noticed that Lyssa had chosen to wear the family colors, brushing a few stray strands of strawberry blonde hair out of her daughter’s face and tucking them behind her ears.

“How did you manage to escape such a scuffle unharmed, little one?”

Lyssa had paled, fumbling for some excuse to explain away her absence. She had been under strict instructions to find her siblings straight away after landing in Nireath, but something… or rather, someone, had stolen her attention. A once straight path had morphed into a meandering, scenic stroll through the City of Silvaera with the Wolf of Araes. It wasn’t that she necessarily thought her parents would disapprove, but the subject of suitors and romantic city strolls was a sensitive one that she knew to tread lightly around.

“Ser Stilgar Jurdanis escorted me safely back to the palace after the guards alerted us to the conflict. I was never in harm’s way.” She was careful to keep her voice steady and even so as not to betray any further details. Her grey eyes remained fixated on her parents, curious to see how they would react to such information.

“Stilgar Jurdanis?” Her mother repeated the name as though it were unfamiliar, casting a glance towards King Marak, who’s facial expression indicated he would be looking further into the young man who had made his daughter’s acquaintance.

“It’s a damned disgrace this Kingdom allowed such an altercation to begin with.” Her father paused, the scowl on his face softening ever so slightly. “But I am glad to see you safe, Vasilyssa.”

Her father was the only one who ever called her by her full name. It sounded foreign in her ears, as if it didn’t belong to her but to someone else. “Your grace.” She bowed her head, pleasantly surprised to see this softer side of him but doubting it would last much longer.

The poignant, high pitched tolling of bells caused the princess to flinch, her head turning towards the door to her chambers where the melodic chimes poured through the threshold. She could only assume that the bells were meant to signify the start of the ball, and a sudden unease rushed through her at the thought of arriving late. Her eyes flicked back to the King and Queen with an urgency unbefitting of a princess, chewing her bottom lip until she was finally released.

“Go on then.” King Marak jerked his head towards the door, dismissing his youngest daughter with a final request. “On your best behavior, Vasilyssa.”

“Of course, your grace.” A sweet, practiced smile had graced her lips before she finally curtsied and exited the room.

**********************************************************************

“You know, Your Grace, if you keep acting so hard to please, I may find that to be a challenge worth pursuing.”

Lyssa was used to going unnoticed in a room full of royals, a mere third-in-line for the throne of Rhaeclya, it was usually easier for diplomats to dismiss her as a pretty face. Sometimes though, this played to her advantage. She had approached her elder sister’s side with little to no interruptions, but it seemed Nell was already fatigued from her endless supply of status-climbing suitors.

“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind pursuing us some refreshments, Ser.” The youngest Dorgaeron’s voice cut through the dignified melody that was sweeping through the ballroom. Her tone tempered but vaguely irked as her gray eyes landed on the rather unsavory face of her sister’s assailant. He let out an unentertained huff, a humorless smile clouding his features before leaving them with a curt nod.

Lyssa hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until a sudden exhale released from her lungs at his departure. Her gaze finally landed on Naelys as she compelled herself to avoid looking too concerned. Her relationship with her elder sister was… complicated, to say the least. She had always admired Naelys, her dedication and passion, her quick wit and ability to turn a phrase, but her sister’s role as heir had consumed most of her time, leaving little time for sisterly bonding. Not that Lyssa blamed Naelys for that, in fact, quite the contrary, she pitied her for it. But Lyssa knew better than to think Naelys would benefit from her pity. Still, her stormy gaze fixated on the almost imperceptible stitching that ran along the heir’s hairline, a cold pit beginning to hollow out her stomach.

“You were there? With the rioters?” The earnest concern in her voice might have reminded some of her mother, though she doubted that was what Naelys was thinking. Chewing her lower lip, she tried to back track, realizing the tone of her questioning had betrayed her true anxieties.

“I’m sorry, Nell. I wish I had been there…” she assumed her sister would dismiss that notion quickly. Lyssa would not have been able to help at all had she been present. In fact, her company would’ve likely caused more of a hassle for everyone involved. Still, she rang herself with guilt as her gaze fell down to her own slippered feet, fidgeting absent mindedly with the necklace Mal and Nell had gifted her at her birth.

coded by natasha.

 

[social]

A playful glint was visible in dark pools of brown and gold as the princess observed the guard and prince interact, their playful banter was something she somewhat envied, mostly due to the fact that she had few relationships that allowed such closeness. “Princess, it is an honor to formally meet you. I trust that you are well after the incident?” Vysenya raised an arched brow slightly as a sweet smile formed on her lips, directly her gaze to the guard specifically.

“Yes, I am quite well. My hem got a bit muddied when I ran, but what can one expect from a kingdom on the sea? Lots of mud and sand.” Her hand elegantly picked up a cup of alcohol from a passing servant, the pale gold liquid passing her lips without hesitation. She was no stranger to drinking and drunkenness, as much as her father would prefer it if she didn’t. Allowing her eyes to wander the crowd, she took careful note of where her usual spectators were located. Juniper was surprisingly mingling with male guards, something that almost made her snort, but she held it in and looked for the presence of her sister. Maybe she had decided to stay behind. Or, she was injured by the races. Well, she would hear about it later.

Her father was carefully seated near the other royals, his gaze unreadable as he looked around. For once he seemed, preoccupied, by something other than the fight for the throne. That was rather intriguing to her as there wasn’t much that interested the man outside of his bloodline securing their position. At least it gave her some breathing room. Her wandering gaze was pulled back into her conversation with the two men, Callum spoke of the festival and celebration, something that always pleased her. “Oh do call me Vysenya when we are chatting like this. We are friends now are we not?”

A step forward and the girl was slightly closer to the guard, almost to allow for more privacy. “I am glad you find the festival to your liking Ser Callum. But there is little harm in indulging in things such as wine. I’m sure a man of your… caliber would not be inebriated by a simple cup of ale.” Holding her barely touched goblet out to the guard, her eyes sparking with interest to see if he would in fact lower his guard enough to loosen up. “Even my personal guard is drinking on the job.” Turning her head, she gestured at the female guard who was chatting with guards of Rhaeclya. “And if a personal guard of the heir of an entire kingdom is happy to get drunk on the job, one shouldn’t hurt you.”

Malaenys laughed as he wrapped an arm around the shoulders of Callum, clearly familiar with Vsyenya’s tricks and manipulation. “She will not ease up about this I’m afraid. While I, your good friend, knows you do not play and work at the same time, she is a bit more… unorthodox.” The girl seemed to hum in agreement as she held the goblet, once again, out to Callum, daring him to take it.

Tags: Callum Blackthorn junegloom | Location: The Ballroom | Wearing: 01 02

coded by social

 

[social]

Arranged marriages weren’t uncommon, in fact they were so common that usually people did not understand when someone opposed them. Back when he was younger and the heir, he had been presented with princesses from all over the continent, encouraged to pick one as a future bride. But Daemond, the anxiety and uncertainty that filled his stomach as he looked at each woman, the visions of his mother’s slain body would overtake them. He couldn’t fight the fear that whoever he married would meet the same fate if she no longer pleased someone within the court. After such events, well, it was not surprising that Daemond actually fell ill and refused to see anymore suitable brides. This was when his father decided to pick for him and chose a bride.

An alliance between Nireath and Rhaeclya was certainly in the favor of Nireath, so the prince could not voice concerns or protests. But the thoughts still consumed the heir as it grew closer and closer to the day of his wedding. The air in his lungs never felt as if it were enough and he always heard the creaking of the secret door in his room, causing him to wake with a blade in his hand. There was no peace for the man during that period of time. Nobody to ease the demons of the past, no one to hide him from the very real fears. And then he disappeared. Like a ghost, there was not a single trace left behind. Now years later, he was once again faced with the same situation, but with a different bride.

His hand felt cold and clammy on Aelina’s back and he internally cringed at the fact his other most likely felt the same as her warm and delicate fingers grasped his hand. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck as the princess spoke, mentioning something about getting to know each other. His dark eyes found hers and he felt a slight moment of relief from the torrent of anxiety in his mind.

“What do you like to do? I mean, if you have a free day, and no responsibilities, what do you do for fun?”

Carefully spinning Aelina, Daemon pressed his lips together in thought, trying to think of what he often did for fun. “Well… I used to frequently race, especially in my youth. I was not undefeated, but I did have a good record.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought about those days, the sun on his back and the water drenching him. Sure, he usually left the races a bit deaf from all of the screeching and roaring of the dragons, but it came back after an hour or so. “I also have traveled a lot in my time and I have a rather extensive collection of books about magic and dragons. I’m quite fond of history.”

Daemond quickly pulled Aelina closer to him as he observed two royals engaging in a rather clumsy dance. Stomping on feet usually was trained out of them as children. Maybe things were different in Tun and Rhaeclya. “It seems a bit rowdy here, would you care for a breath of fresh air? There is a balcony we can step out on.” Carefully leading Aelina off the dance floor, he guided her through the crowds of people, his eyes careful to observe those who let their own gaze linger on the pair for longer than necessary.

Glass doors opened and revealed a decent sized balcony, though it lacked much light and decorations. Rarely did anyone go out onto it, especially guests. But Daemond was a prince of the castle and therefore the guards did not stop him. The doors closed behind the two and the man let out a heavy breath, his hands finding sanctuary on the cold stone of the railing. “Have you ever ridden a dragon, Princess Aelina?” It was his turn to ask a question and by luck, he watched the familiar shape of a dragon flitting across the sky, clearly a guard that was on patrol. While the temperature outside had cooled significantly, it was still warm, the ocean keeping it rather moderate. Still, Daemond removed the dark blue jacket, showing the matching colored button-up shirt underneath. “If you get cold, do not hesitate to wear this.” Daemond gingerly laid the garment on the railing, next to Aelina.

Tags: Aelina Braelor junegloom | Location: Lapis Palace | Wearing: 01

coded by social

 

[social]

The arrival of her youngest sibling caused a slight pause in Naelys as she lowered the cup of wine from her lips, her piercing gaze observing the interactions between the two. She paid little attention to the man as he departed, her sister being more of an interesting subject. It was rare to see the young woman approach Naelys, especially during an event such as this. She had also changed, something that was also unexpected, especially after the drama of the dress earlier in the day. Lips pressed firmly together as she held Vasilyssa’s fleeting gaze, not sure what to really say in such a situation. They had not been close in ages and after some time, the woman had decided she had better things to worry about than trying to form a closeness with her only sister.

“You were there? With the rioters?”

Naelys found herself handing her goblet to a passing servant and brushed a stray auburn curl off her exposed shoulder. “Yes, though one might say I was what spurred a riot.” She shifted her harsh gaze away from her sister and allowed it to drift across the crowd to her personal guard. He was chatting with Alex, someone that she was very familiar with, and a guard from Nireath. A female one at that. Women and alcohol usually were a mix that both Malaenys and William engaged in with too much excitement. “I was not badly injured, I was simply surprised by what transpired. This was more from hitting my head than being hit.” Despite the fact they were not close, she understood the concern that anyone in her family would have for her.

At the rather depressed apology, Naelys looked at Vasilyssa and raised an eyebrow, her eyes racing over the expression the girl wore. “No need to apologies, if you had been there, you likely would’ve suffered more than I. It is by luck that you were preoccupied. Distressing our parents from what I heard, and blue no less.” There was a slight of amusement that danced in her rather intimidating eyes as she looked at the girl. “Were you planning to court another from here? Or was it just to cause a bit of drama for fun?” The questions were not accusatory as she knew that it was their duty as part of the royal family and that often made some act out. Naelys made little efforts to find herself engaged, much to the frustrations of the court.

Without heirs, Naelys was more vulnerable in her position. She needed children to solidify her bloodline and line of succession. But she was far more interested in maintaining the relationship she had, regardless of how stupid it was. Logistically there was nothing to protect. It was as fragile as a baby bird. It would easily be crushed if it was revealed or if her parents forbid her from continuing it. The consequences would be dire if her one true and sacred secret was to be found out. And Gods help her if a child resulted because of it. Her affections for William were twisted and buried deep inside of her heart, so much so that the only way one would find it is if they carved it out of her.

She was not allowed a life like someone such as her sister. She was able to have more freedom in her childhood and young adult life while Naelys was invested in politics and war. Though she did this happily and would never give up her claim, she found herself starved for the chance of protecting something that nobody had influence over. A small sigh left her as she ran her thumb along the gold ring she wore upon her index finger, the metal smooth under her touch. “You were gone for quite some time during the festival, where did you get to? I heard that Alex had been dismissed, that wasn’t exactly a smart thing to do. He is there to protect you, even from people as harmless as other royalty. Unless it wasn’t royalty you were with…” The notion that her youngest sister would be as promiscuous as their older brother was something that would genuinely shock Naelys. But she knew very little about her sister’s adult life, outside of the pieces she observed.

Tags: Vasilyssa Dorgaeron WanderLust. | Location: Lapis Palace | Wearing: 01 02 03

coded by social

 

[Wyll]

Mentions:
N/A

Interactions:
N/A

Outfit

View attachment 1161090

The Heir That Never Was

Dunik Marason~

Dunik may not necessarily be considered a royal, but he was at least a noble, thanks to his father’s standing in the court. Due to this, he was aware hat they would be getting visitors from all the other kingdoms as they celebrated their Summer Solstice festival. First of all, Dunik didn’t see why they should be welcoming foreigners to share in their culture but he also didn’t understand most of the things that happened in the court anyway. Whatever the case may be, he wasn’t really bothered. Largely because it wasn’t his scene and since he wasn’t a royal, there was no expectation of him to attend.

So, the young man found himself where he always finds himself; in the waters a mile or two off the beach, practicing combinations with his dragon, Deartháir. The most recent one he was working on was one where he was riding Deartháir underwater and then would move to the tail, only to be launched up and out of the water. The idea was to use it for a sneak attack some time down the line, who knows. At the very least, even if he never got to use it, the feeling of shooting out the water and flying several feet in the air was exhilarating. The move itself was challenging, taking several hours for them to finally get the timing right.

However, just as they figured it out, the first of the foreign ships showed up on the horizon. Floating in the water, Dunik released a sigh and called for Deartháir – it was time to leave. The dragon swam up under him and Dunik grabbed the saddle, immediately being sucked into the air by the dragon.

It was a short flight, landing near the royal stables. Turns out that, as nobility, he was allowed to keep his dragon there. After handing Deartháir over to the keepers, it was a short walk back to the large building he called home. Arriving, he pulled off his soaked shirt and went for a roll of bread. His father walked out not long after, leaning heavily on his cane. Dunik stopped chewing, giving his father a once over and then smirking. “Well don’t you look fancy,” Dunik teased, after swallowing his bite of bread. “You have fun with those royals now. Be sure to come back and regale me with all the fascinating tales of your evening.” It was clear Dunik was getting a kick out of this.

However, his father only smiled and turned back and went inside his room, emerging not long after with a brilliant, sapphire blue suit that just so happened to be Dunik’s perfect fit. Almost as if it was tailored for him. There was a puzzled look on Dunik’s face as his eyes moved from the suit, to his father, then back to the suit. He sat up straight, eyes wide as realization hit him, staring at his father.

“No…surely not...”

---

…

Dunik was now walking down the corridor leading to the ballroom, arriving terribly late due to the fact that he only found out he was coming mere hours before. He adjusted the collar of his suit trying to get a little more comfortable in it. First, he couldn’t bring his spear along, then he had to bring a gift for the king and queen, then he had to wear this suit…next they’ll be expecting him to dance. The madness.

However, once he saw the ballroom doors, he stopped in his tracks before he could be noticed by the guards. He fixed his posture, pulled his face into a charming smile and practiced his greetings. He wasn’t a fan of the games he had to play, but his father had made sure Dunik knew how to play it nonetheless. He cringed inwardly at how fake it seemed but, with two words, steeled his resolve: “For Nireath”. With that, he resumed heading towards the ballroom, his walk now a confident strut. When the doors opened, he nodded in appreciation to the guards that opened the door and then walked right in. He knew that he was late but he had no choice now but to own it.

He walked confidently toward the king and queen seated at the table with all the others monarchs – this is not a moment in time Dunik ever expected to find himself – he’d be uncomfortable enough just meeting the monarchs or Nireath, now he had to meet the monarchs of all kingdoms? He’d have to remember to get his father back for this. For now, he waited until he was permitted to step forward and then, with a bow, presented an ornate box to the king and queen. “My king, my queen, a gift from my father in thanks for the invitation.” Once the gift was properly presented and received, he made his way to one of the walls by the doors, hoping he could simply wait all this out.

 

[social]

Tension with the commoners in another kingdom wasn’t exactly something that Malaenys had planned to deal with. He had held his tongue while his father had demanded answers and he had voiced his concerns in the meeting, but he still wasn’t convinced. He didn’t think it was something that just happened, especially not during a festival as peaceful as the Summer Solstice. Well, maybe it wasn’t always peaceful but he had never been rushed by a crowd before, certainly not when there were so many royals present. Despite any negative relationships he had with his cousin, he didn’t want the prince to be injured due to something as terrifying as a swarm of people trying to rip his hair out.

His attendant softly pressed a damp cloth to Malaenys’ split knuckles, the direct contact stinging as the wounds were cleaned, but he did not seem to mind. Fingers threaded through his curls as his hair had become quite disheveled in the conflict and the servant hoped to clean and restyle it. Blood was washed away and soon his hair was rebraided and pulled back into the usual buns, keeping the hair away from his face, something that he always insisted upon. Any blood that had gotten on his armor was swiftly cleaned and buffed out before being returned to his figure. Malaenys was unusually quiet, not even giving a small flirtatious remark to the female attendant who was keeping herself busy by wiping down his armor.

The prince had more pressing things to think of. He could not shake the pit that had formed in his stomach, especially due to the fact that his twin had seen various concerning dreams before their arrival in Nireath. He just hoped that nothing else would happen during their time at the seaside kingdom.

The conversation with Vysenya and Callum was entertaining, the prince laughing and joking with his two friends. It was comfortable and helped to ease some of the anxiety that had formed in the pit of his stomach. Still, anyone who knew the reckless prince would’ve noticed the lack of alcohol in his hand. Instead, he busied himself with eating and talking, keeping his wits clearly about. He rarely had the foresight to stop drinking, let alone avoid it altogether. When the princess mentioned her personal guard drinking on the guard, Malaenys took a peak in the direction that was gestured to.

He spotted Will and Alex, two people that Malaenys considered to be very good friends and even better soldiers. He eyed the woman beside them for a moment and the alcohol that the two men were consuming. While he did not let his concern show as he continued to banter with the two in his company, he still made a mental note about what the guards were doing. There was a nagging in the back of his head, a small warning perhaps, though it most likely was just anxiety. What truly surprised Malaenys was his two sisters conversing on the other side of the room, without any anger from the looks of it. Always put in the middle of those two, he rarely saw them talk anymore, not as Naelys began to have more responsibilities placed on her plate and had little time to bond with her family. While he understood his twin, it was hard for others in the family to come to terms with her pulling away.

Continuing to observe the ballroom for familiar faces, he frowned in annoyance as he caught a glimpse of Briar Vaele dancing with Teritheon. He had not seen that man in a long time and yet the same annoyance and possible hatred for him still coiled nastily in his stomach. He could not believe that Briar of all people was getting offered to someone like him. He was good friends with her older brother Drak and he doubted that the crown prince was going to take it well. Memories of adolescence and childhood briefly appeared in his mind as he watched the pair, clearly getting informed that they would be wed. A small snort of disbelief left the man and he picked up his goblet of water and drank from it, but there was little relief. He needed alcohol to quench the annoyed words that twisted behind his lips. “Gods, I forgot how many rats come out of their nests when events like this happen.”

Vysenya, who was always quick to gossip, immediately raised an eyebrow and looked at Malaenys with an interested expression. “Oh? And what rat are you referring to Mal?” The prince gestured across the room to where the two royals were, Briar looking less than pleased. “My my, it looks as if they have been engaged. Is it the girl or boy that you disapprove of? I’m eager to know why of course. Aren’t you Callum?”

“He is a distant cousin, as most are, and he was not someone I enjoyed having around the castle. Outside of his magic, which was quite a nuisance, he had a rather rotten personality.” If Vysenya was interested before, she became enthralled the more he spoke. Her eyes practically sparkled like a cavern of jewels. “When he was young he would antagonize dragons in the keep for fun which caused many issues for everyone who had on and for the dragonkeepers.”

“That doesn’t sound too terrible, but I know I would have someone’s hand if they annoyed mine.”

“I didn’t really have anything to do with him outside of stern talking to get him to behave, but as he got older, I know his magic caused issues for people. I really didn’t care, I understand that magic can be difficult for people, especially children. But he kept getting worse as he got older. He hurt women in the pleasure houses,” Vysenya nearly spat out her drink due to the laughter that dared to slip out, “do not laugh Vysenya, it was quite the angering.”

“I’m surprised that he is still standing is all! I know how fond you grow of the women who work there. I have heard of you spending extra coin just to make things easier.” A small amount of heat spread across the prince’s face as he crossed his arms, still disgruntled.

“Exactly. So you can understand why I was quite frustrated to hear he was testing himself on them just because he bought them for a time. And then he started to drink and fight with Gods know who. Practically anyone who dared to stare at him got squarely punched at, or what he could manage to do. I was relieved when he was sent away. It made life much calmer in the palace.” A hand moved to rub the back of his neck as he looked at his two friends, clearly a bit annoyed from even thinking back on those days. Vysenya placed a comforting hand on his forearm and laughed softly.

“Don’t worry Malaenys, I am sure that he will not cause trouble. While we are quite boisterous and a bit tricky here, the king does not let fighting between royals and nobles happen. I have seen him throw even diplomats flat on their faces on the docks, banishing them from Silveara. It was quite fun if I do say so myself.” A pleased smile formed on her lips as she looked at the royal from across the room for a bit longer before turning her attention back to the two men.

“Speaking of family, I heard your sister raced today.” Malaenys easily changed the topic as he leaned back against the wall, his arms comfortably crossed. “Her sister, Thalia, tends to race, though Vysenya would not be caught dead doing so.” Looking at Callum, he quickly filled him in on who he was referring to, not wanting the guard to be lost in conversation. Vysenya’s playful and mischievous expression quickly changed to a bored one as she sighed dramatically.

“Oh, why does everyone think I know or care where my sister wanders off to? I do not know anything of the races or how she placed.”

“They don’t get along.” Malaenys grinned as he whispered to Callum, clearly enjoying the fact the girl was the annoyed one for a change. “I don’t know why you hate the races so much, they are entertaining!” The princess rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I don’t hate them, but I have no interest in them. The only thing they are good for is keeping her from trying to follow me around and keep me from doing anything fun. I like that they keep her entertained so I can socialize with people such as Callum and you, Mal.” Malaenys laughed and nodded his head, clearly understanding where she was coming from. He knew that family was difficult and complicated so he didn’t dare try to offer any advice on the sisters.

Tags: Callum Blackthorn junegloom | Location: The Lapis Palace | Wearing: 01 (red and gold for the leather though)

coded by social

 

[WanderLust.]

THALIA RAITH
SECOND-IN-LINE TO NIREATH

Self Conscious

The Kingdom of Nireath - Castle

Vysenya, Mal and Callum social junegloom

Dress Hair

A discoloration of purple and blue bruises blossomed across Thalia’s right flank as she inspected herself in the mirror, a repulsed frown darkening her features as she turned to inspect the rest of the damage. The blonde leaned in closer, observing a disconcertingly deep gash that ripped its way across the skin of her left shoulder. For a moment she remembered the fear that had suffocated her, the sheer panic that had overtaken her upon being pinned between a tapered brick wall and the lifeless body of a fallen rioter. Mud had caked its way into her hair and blood stained the silken fabric of her riding gown which now lay discarded on her bedroom floor.

By the time Nireath’s guards had found Thalia, the majority of the chaos was over. The guards were rounding up any stray offenders and the townsfolk were licking their wounds. Most of the royals had been escorted back to the castle, a precaution that Thalia had swiftly rejected. In truth, she was grateful that there were few witnesses to gawk at her wounds. She didn’t take kindly to being fussed over, preferring to tend to herself in solitude. If the princess had her way, she would escape the entire debacle without anyone knowing of her involvement. Let them worry about Vysenya and the visiting royals, she could handle herself.

Thalia had carefully selected a turquoise and gold gown with subtly puffed sleeves that she hoped would conceal the damage to her waist and shoulder. She had opted to bandage the wound on her shoulder herself, using what little skill she had in the area. She had no servants or ladies in waiting fussing about her hair or jewelry, so by the time she arrived at the ball it was a wonder she had managed to pull her golden locks back into a simple braided style. Surveying the crowd, she tried to discern which assemblage of royals would be the least laborious to socialize with, ultimately deciding that there was, in fact, worse company to keep than her sister as she made her way over with a heavily concealed limp.

She was unsurprised to hear Vysenya voicing her disinterest in Thalia and the races. Her sister had never been particularly fond of her or her nagging, the younger tried not to take it personally, but it still stung to hear the venom in Vysenya’s voice, a verbal slap in the face to which Thalia had become accustomed since her sister had been named heir. It wasn’t easy approaching a group when you knew you were the topic of their discussion, but Thalia did her best to keep her chin up as she neared.

“Please, you’ve never held any interest in the races because Vyrsi isn’t fast enough to keep up with the rest of us.” There was a playful, ‘all-in-good-fun’ tone to the blonde’s voice as she tried to make light of the conversation, but she could feel her sister’s icy glare almost immediately. She took a mental note of the company her Vysenya was keeping, vaguely recognizing Malaenys Dorgaeron but not being able to place the face of the guard. She didn’t know Malaenys so much as she knew of him, they had been introduced at previous inter-kingdom events, but had never really spent much time together, he seemed to prefer the company of her sister over Thalia herself.

She nodded politely in Mal’s direction, bowing her head in acknowledgement before turning her attention to Callum. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced, though I’m sure my reputation precedes me as the destroyer of all things fun and exciting.” She didn’t frequently make the acquaintance of guards. Her father would’ve much preferred that she were stalking the ballroom seeking out a potential marriage alliance, though she suspected it was more of a priority to get Vysenya married off first. Thalia had often wondered if Vysenya would pursue a match with the Prince of Rhaeclya, a worthy bachelor indeed though it seemed their relationship was fueled by friendship rather than romance. Not that it mattered either way in the end. Once their father had chosen an ideal match for his daughters neither of them would have much of a say, regardless of any romantic feelings or lack thereof.

She shifted her weight from her left side to her right, just barely concealing a wince of pain as her bruised flank cried out in protest. Almost immediately releasing her clenched jaw she tried to shift the attention away from herself and back onto the others. “I heard you were quite the valiant protector today, Malaenys. My sister was lucky to have been in your company. We owe you our gratitude… and apologies that such bravery was required in the first place.”

Without thinking, Thalia reached out with her left hand to grab a goblet of wine from the tray of a passing servant, her eyes widening momentarily as she felt a stinging sensation burn it’s way through her shoulder, the wound from earlier scolding her for making such a sharp movement. She took a generous sip of the alcohol, hoping its effects would help numb the discomfort. She kept her eyes fixated on her drink after that, hoping Vysenya would draw the attention back to herself or some other more interesting topic.

coded by natasha.

 

[junegloom]

scroll

abandoned royal

Callum.

outfit

Araes Royal Guard Uniform

location

Nireath

interactions

Malaenys, Vysenya, and Thalia

tags

social , WanderLust.

Callum raised an eyebrow at Vysenya insisting they were now friends. He certainly wouldn’t consider her a friend in the same way that he considered Mal a friend, but he’d comply with her request for him to drop her formal title. Only in each other’s company, of course. He would rather not get reprimanded if someone else overheard. She was even bolder to suggest he drink on duty, holding out her goblet. He looked over towards the guard she gestured to, seeing that she was, in fact, drinking as well. He could tell that she wouldn’t budge on the issue, which Mal only verified with his input.

“Well, that is all the more reason I should not drink tonight. But, you are also correct that one drink will not impair me.” Callum took the goblet from her. “So, as you wish, Vysenya.”

He raised the goblet to his lips, taking a sip. Cal merely listened as the conversation continued, taking a turn towards other royals that Cal did not know of.

He followed their gazes and watched as Mal explained his distaste for the man in reference. He had nothing to add, not wanting to speak on matters he was not involved in, though he could understand Mal’s distaste. Another example of a Royal using their status to exploit common folk. It sickened him. It was worse that he was not able to speak out against instances like those without risking, at the very least, his job, or at the very most, his life. Callum was sure Mal and Vysenya would not take offense, but you never knew who else was listening, so he opted to keep his mouth shut on this topic.

He pushed his frustration down with a sigh and couldn’t help but crack a smile at the flush that spread across his friend’s face.

Thankfully, the conversation switched. Mal decided to chime in as Vysenya spoke, informing him on her thoughts on her sister. However, Mal’s comments weren’t necessary as it was quite clear

“Be honest, Mal. You’re less interested in the actual races than you are on betting on them,” Cal teased, nudging his elbow into Mal’s side.

It was only moments later that Vysenya’s sister seemed to materialize.

Speak of the devil and all that.

Callum greeted the princess with a bow of his head. His smile from earlier hadn’t quite faded from his lips.

“Princess. I am Ser Callum Blackthorn of Araes,” he introduced, resuming formal titles once more. He made no comment on what they were discussing earlier, resuming his place as a guard and not a friend of the royals next to him.

He observed the younger princess noting the pain she was trying to hide. He didn’t remember her being involved in the chaos earlier, but there were no other explanations for her state unless she was battered in the race. But, surely Mal would have mentioned that if that were the case.

He looked back at Vysenya and passed her the goblet, knowing she’d appreciate it more than he would at this point.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[social]

A familiar voice broke through the general chatter between the three, causing Visenya’s fingers to twitch as her smile quickly morphed into one of minor of annoyance. “And she graces us with her presence.” Raising an eyebrow slightly at Callum, the princess turned her body to look at her younger sister, observing the odd way she seemed to carry herself. Probably a result of the race no doubt.

“Please, you’ve never held any interest in the races because Vyrsi isn’t fast enough to keep up with the rest of us.”

A laugh left Vysenya as she looked rather pointedly at her sister, clearly not amused by her attempt at banter. “Ah yes, blame it on my dragon’s speed. Not that fact I actually value her life over the thrill of losing.” Her words were anything but inviting, and she gratefully took the goblet of ale back from Callum, bringing it to her lips. She kept her gaze firmly planted on her sister’s face, wanting to see what possessed her to come over and interrupt her socialization. Probably their father, knowing that weasel of a man. But Thalia’s attention seemed to settle squarely on Malaenys, something that Vysenya did not expect. The compliments towards the prince made the heiress tighten her grip on the goblet before clearing her throat.

“If you must know, Malaenys was drowning in the crowd and I, on my own, retrieved aid for them. And Ser Callum was just as responsible for protecting any royals in that fight unless he is not noble enough for you to thank.” Her voice was smooth yet uninviting, clearly something that was not unfamiliar to those who watched the interactions between the two girls. Still, Vysenya did not hate her sister, at least not at the moment, she was loathed rather due to why she usually spent time with her. Watching Vysenya, trying to keep her from doing what she wanted, the suffocating nature of their relationship had caused a deep resentment to form within Vysenya’s heart as she viewed her as just another person trying to lock her in a box and throw away the key.

Moving a stray hair away from her face, she smiled at Callum and bowed her head slightly, “I do apologize for my sister’s oversight. Unfortunately, some of the younger ones do not always respect guards.” Vysenya then returned her attention to her sister, pursing her lips at the stiffness of her movements, clearly indicating she was injured. “Anyways, Ser Callum, do you have any grand stories of battle or something to share? I always hear the tall tales of Malaenys, but rarely do I encounter someone who could confirm them!” The sweetened tone had returned to her and her warm gaze found its place as she looked at the guard, her expression softening with interest and familiarity. Well, at least on her end. Always quick to befriend, Vysenya wasn’t one to respect distances between those who she considered her friends or companions. She liked to keep them comfortable and close to her, always available to be at her beck and call.

Tags: Callum Blackthorn junegloom Thalia Raith WanderLust. | Location: The Ballroom | Wearing: 01 02

coded by social

 

[social]

The arrival of Thalia was unexpected, but Malaenys did not question or oppose it. Bowing his head as she approached, he listened to the sisters exchange rather heated words, at least on Vysenya’s end, and a small smile formed on his lips. He did not interrupt nor try to calm the tension as he knew better than to do that. Having his own set of sisters, he knew that if he got in between, there usually would be a sharp heel smashed into the top of his foot. But he did not have to sit on the sidelines for long as eventually he was pulled into the conversation by Thalia. A broad smile formed on his face as he crossed his arms, slightly shaking his head. “I only did what was needed. I understand that instances such as this can cause high tensions.”

He couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as Vysenya declared herself the real hero, but he didn’t try and argue with her. He simply allowed her to engage in conversation with Callum. The man was more than capable of entertaining such a princess, and perhaps even calming her irritation. “Do not mind your sister’s words too much. I can imagine even approaching us was a bit of a feat. I have my own sisters who do not always get along, so I am well-versed in such interactions.” He did not want her to feel excluded or banished from such company as he knew that could sting worse than unfriendly words.

“I did not think you would be making an appearance today, I heard that your race was a rather eventful one that involved even a crash. But then again, that’s the dragon races for you.” Briefly looking around the crowd, Malaenys made sure to keep track of his sisters, pleased that they hadn’t ventured from their place in the room. The night continued to pass, the lights from the fire soon being the only source of light in the room. He was pleased that the night seemed to draw closer to the end, thus providing some comfort in knowing that his family would be returning home. The underlying uncertainty of the day’s events still sat heavily within his heart but he did his best to push past it.

“You do not seem like one who normally enjoys events such as these. I have rarely seen you, at least at the ones I have frequented.” A charming smile played on his face as he leaned against the wall, clearly comfortable in the conversation. “Then again, normally I am quite under the table in ale. It is rare for me not to indulge in Nireath’s alcohol.” It was the truth, anytime Malaenys visited the kingdom for any form of social gathering, he usually ended up quite drunk and passed out in a stranger’s bed or a pleasure house. He had little preference when he was there to indulge in his passions rather than responsibilities. “What about you? Do you often drink or do you prefer to keep your wits about?”

Tags: Thalia Raith WanderLust. | Location: The Lapis Palace | Wearing: 01 (red and gold for the leather though)

coded by social

 

[junegloom]

scroll

estranged cousin

Aelina.

outfit

dress, hair

location

Nireath

interactions

Daemond

tags

social

Aelina was relieved to see her question wasn't met with ire, but it cracked a smile on Daemond's face. He had taken her to a dragon race earlier in the day, so she could clearly picture what he enjoyed. It seemed so thrilling, but so dangerous. It seemed very, very easy to get seriously hurt or killed during one of those races. The risk must be worth it.

The pair spun, moving around the other couples as he went on about traveling and books. She spent a good portion of her time reading, locked inside her room during the harsh Tun winters and when she was bedbound, too ill to do anything but read and rest. Traveling, on the other hand, was something completely new to her. She rarely left the village she was raised in and this was her first time outside of Tun.

Aelina was about to ask more about his travels but was quickly distracted by the pair that nearly knocked into her. Daemond smoothy and elegantly pulled her out of their path, much to her relief.

The invitation for a breather was much appreciated as she could feel the sweat starting to form on her body. The cool air was welcome. It was a stark change in temperature from inside the ballroom, but it was still rather warm by Tun standards. It was refreshing and comfortable.

The music could still be heard through the glass doors, though the sound of the ocean drowned much of it out. It was quieter and more peaceful out here. Naturally, she looked up at the sky to see how visible the stars were, a habit she had since she was old enough to remember. Her eyes trailed the dragon before landing back on Daemond.

"First, considering our parents are most certainly arranging our engagement, you don't have to call me 'Princess'. Aelina is perfectly fine."

Aelina leaned against the railing next to Daemond, taking some of the weight off her tired feet. It was likely "improper" but she needed to. Spending so much of the day walking and the evening dancing was considerably more activity than she partook in on a normal day. Though she wasn't cold, she still took the prince up on his offer and slipped on his jacket.

"To answer your question, I have never even gotten close to one— My parents thought they were too dangerous." Aelina paused a moment before deciding that she should explain why, given the effort of getting to know each other and considering dragons were quite commonplace amongst the royals. "I am their only surviving child and I was quite sickly too, so they do tend to worry about me."

It was her turn to ask the next question. Aelina looked out to the water as she thought and the question she was intending to ask him earlier returned to her.

"What was your favorite place that you traveled to?"

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[social]

The night had progressed without a hitch, the swirling of luxurious dresses and drunken laughter was contagious, every royal and noble fully enjoying the event. There was some time left before the lantern ceremony would take place, which meant that the peak of the dance had been reached. Sweat rolled down warmed skin as flushed hands grasped each other, feverish dances being intricately performed within the ballroom. The various monarchs also looked as if they had relaxed considerably, their goblets having been emptied a few times, allowing them to indulge in the numbing tastes of wine. Light-hearted conversations were had between them as the night progressed, displaying the era of peace that Nordua had finally entered.

In the distance, a cry could be heard, though it was quiet and soft, much like that of a bird. It was easily drowned out by the upbeat and thrilling music of the dance, but as the minutes passed, the cries grew louder and much closer. As it approached the ballroom, guests began to slow to a stop, their attention locked on the closed doors, curiosity and confusion written on their faces. They were not cries of a bird or even a dragon, they were screams. Horrifying and blood-curdling screams echoed through the halls of the castle, barreling towards the doors of the room. The dance halted, causing everyone to freeze in place, not daring to move.

Even the guards looked unnerved as they placed their hands around the grip of their swords, prepared to draw them. BANG BANG! BANG BANG BANG! Fists furiously pounded on the great doors, as if multiple people were desperately trying to break in. Swords were drawn and King Aelon stood up, his hand raised to signal to his soldiers as soon as the doors opened. The screaming stopped and the world became utterly silent for only a few seconds. Nobody took a breath and simply waited for what would happen next.

An explosion of hot air rushed into the ballroom as the doors flung open, various burned bodies could be seen on the ground as those who still lived ran inside, flames lapping at their clothes and skin as they screamed, hands outstretched to anyone who would help. Behind them, the hallway was covered in roaring flames, the orange fire eating at the stone and fabrics of the castle, racing towards the ballroom as well. It was as if a dragon itself had breathed fire down the hall. Confusion and panic filled the room as flames climbed into the room, stretching out deadly hands to claim more victims. They were trapped. Every royal and noble of Nordua was stuck in that room, waiting to be consumed by flame.

DEATH'S

LAST DANCE

coded by social

Spoiler: Uncoded

The night had progressed without a hitch, the swirling of luxurious dresses and drunken laughter was contagious, every royal and noble fully enjoying the event. There was some time left before the lantern ceremony would take place, which meant that the peak of the dance had been reached. Sweat rolled down warmed skin as flushed hands grasped each other, feverish dances being intricately performed within the ballroom. The various monarchs also looked as if they had relaxed considerably, their goblets having been emptied a few times, allowing them to indulge in the numbing tastes of wine. Light-hearted conversations were had between them as the night progressed, displaying the era of peace that Nordua had finally entered.

In the distance, a cry could be heard, though it was quiet and soft, much like that of a bird. It was easily drowned out by the upbeat and thrilling music of the dance, but as the minutes passed, the cries grew louder and much closer. As it approached the ballroom, guests began to slow to a stop, their attention locked on the closed doors, curiosity and confusion written on their faces. They were not cries of a bird or even a dragon, they were screams. Horrifying and blood-curdling screams echoed through the halls of the castle, barreling towards the doors of the room. The dance halted, causing everyone to freeze in place, not daring to move.

Even the guards looked unnerved as they placed their hands around the grip of their swords, prepared to draw them. BANG BANG! BANG BANG BANG! Fists furiously pounded on the great doors, as if multiple people were desperately trying to break in. Swords were drawn and King Aelon stood up, his hand raised to signal to his soldiers as soon as the doors opened. The screaming stopped and the world became utterly silent for only a few seconds. Nobody took a breath and simply waited for what would happen next.

An explosion of hot air rushed into the ballroom as the doors flung open, various burned bodies could be seen on the ground as those who still lived ran inside, flames lapping at their clothes and skin as they screamed, hands outstretched to anyone who would help. Behind them, the hallway was covered in roaring flames, the orange fire eating at the stone and fabrics of the castle, racing towards the ballroom as well. It was as if a dragon itself had breathed fire down the hall. Confusion and panic filled the room as flames climbed into the room, stretching out deadly hands to claim more victims. They were trapped. Every royal and noble of Nordua was stuck in that room, waiting to be consumed by flame.

 

[Wyll]

Mentions:
Drak ( Top11 )

Interactions:
Thalia ( WanderLust. )

Vyenya ( social )

Callum ( junegloom )

Malaenys ( social )

Outfit

View attachment 1165038

The Heir That Never Was

Dunik Marason~

On his way to the wall, a server passed by him and he casually picked a drink from the tray they were carrying. He perched himself comfortably on the wall, quietly sipping from his cup as his gaze travelled across the floor. His first thought was that this wasn't going as bad as he thought it would. Maybe he might actually be able to enjoy the night. For so many powerful people gathered in one place, there was much less drama than he was expecting. Of course, having been trying to shove himself into his outfit during the incident earlier in the day, he hadn't been there to experience it nor had he talked to anyone about it so he was entirely unaware that anything had happened.

As his gaze continued to sweet across the floor, he was able to pick out a few familiar faces. The first he spotted was Drak doing the impossible - dancing. It actually looked like he was having fun. This was of particular shock to Dunik because Drak was the only person that disliked court affairs as much as he did. However, it was also cause for thought. After all, if even Drak could manage to enjoy himself - or, at least, look like he's enjoying himself - then perhaps Dunik could make an effort as well and it wouldn't all be entirely terrible. Harder to spot was Thalia, buried in a group of people he only knew by face and name but not experience. He also struggled to pick her out at first because she was walking weird. Unaware of the day's earlier events, his only conclusion was that she'd gotten hurt while racing. For some reason, definitely not because he was salty about always losing in races with her, he couldn't fight the smile that came to his face at the thought of Thalia hurting herself during a race. However, he did still genuinely hope she wasn't too badly hurt.

He wasn't able to identify any others that he was comfortable enough to approach, so he figured he might as well start with those two. Of course, he wasn't going to butt into Drak's dance. After all, such a thing may never be seen again. And so his only other option was the group with Thalia. He recognised one of the people with her as the "Vysenya" that had beat him in the race to be named heir to the throne. After having met Thalia, he was interested to know what type of person her sister was.

He finished the wine in his cup, setting it on a nearby table and slowly began walking over. But he was stopped by the sudden and bone-chilling sound of screams. Immediately, his entire body snapped toward the door, every last drop of attention poured in that direction, almost as if he was begging something to happen. Then there was the banging. That was all he needed to hear to know to get into his fighting mindset. Instinctively, he reached behind his back for Ceartais but grasped nothing. He grasped a few more times before realising that he'd been forced by his father to leave Ceartais at home. He opened his mouth to cuss, aggravated at the circumstances, but was blown off his feet and caused to tumble once or twice across the floor.

He quickly got on all fours, taking a second to regain his bearings. In that second, he cursed himself for allowing himself believe that this could be a good night. He cursed his father for forcing him to come here. And he had many more curses to dish out, but he could do that later. Right now, he and everyone else - at the very least, those from Nireath - needed to get out of this deathtrap. His head was still spinning and he couldn't make out any clear sounds. Slowly, he regained his focus, staring directly at the hallway of fire. By this time, the flames had made their way inside the room and time was running short. He looked around at the windows; if they could break them and call the dragons, they might be able to get everyone out of here in time.

As he'd already began heading towards Thalia before the explosion, he picked himself up and quickly made his way over to their group. "M'lords, m'ladies," he began, "I do wish we'd met under better circumstances, but if you're not too hurt..." his gaze briefly went to Thalia, remembering how she seemed hurt earlier and suddenly not finding that worth smiling at anymore. "...I need your help breaking these windows and calling for as many dragons as will listen to you." His speech was polite but rushed, his eyes moving around and observing how far the fire had gotten into the room; looking to see if there were any alive that needed assistance; watching the doorway to see if anything else was coming through. It was clear that sped was going to be important, and he was just grateful that his outfit allowed him to move quickly and comfortably.

 

[social]

The night had passed slowly with little interruptions, allowing the woman to relax as she waited to hear back from the servant. But as she sat at the table, entertaining conversation with those nearby, she couldn’t help but notice a strange noise bubbling in the background. Saena paid little attention to it, but her eyes continued to drift to the closed doors, wondering what was occurring outside of them, especially as the noise began to increase in volume. Standing up, the woman moved quietly, heading in the general direction of Drak, wanting to see what was going on. But she did not have time to do that. Loud banging on the doors startled her and froze her in place, as did most in the room. Her eyes were locked on the guarded doors, waiting for foes or something to spill in, but instead, she was met with the stench of burning flesh and the heat of a dragon’s fire.

The sheer explosion of the door opening with such force, paired with the waves of flames, sent many to their knees, Saena included. Fear. It clutched the room immediately as screams of terror and confusion began to fill the air as people scrambled to find an escape. Saena watched in horror as the burned bodies of innocent people stumbled about the room, begging for help, begging to be saved. She was not one who often participated in battles, and if she did, it was safely on her dragon, away from the violence and destruction. This was new to her and her brain had little idea what to do. Pulling herself up, the woman did her best not to get trampled by the panicked crowd of royalty and nobility as they raced around, trying to figure out what to do.

She could hear yelling from guards as they tried to round up the monarchs and take them hopefully to safety. But where was that? The dark waters which nobody could see? Smoke began to fill the room as the flames eagerly lapped at the decorations and clothes of those in attendance. Dragon’s fire was something magical and otherworldly. It was dangerous and difficult to put out, making it incredibly lethal and something that nobody should mess with. Glass shattered to her right, the shards flying everywhere, causing the woman to raise her arms to protect her face, feeling the small pieces hit her dress.

Saena was unable to tell where anyone was in the chaos, the heavy smell of burning flesh and smoke was almost thick enough to choke her. Pushing her way through the crowd, she moved in the direction she last saw her constant companion, Drak. She at least wanted to make sure he was okay before doing anything as crazy as jumping out a window. Moving through the chaos, she saw the familiar build of the man, causing a sense of relief to wash over her. “Drak!” Calling his name, she pushed through to his side, clutching onto his arm for a moment to keep her balance.

“Are you alright?” A roar of fire in the air caused her to recoil slightly, stepping away from it. “Are both our parents safe? I saw guards with them for a moment but I lost sight of them after people started jumping.” Panic wasn’t exactly something Saena was used to feeling, but in that moment, she could feel the dread forming over her. She wasn’t exactly pleased at the thought of thoughtlessly launching herself into the ocean, hoping that she wouldn’t hit a hidden rock. But there was little she could do in such a situation. It was either escape or die.

Tags: Drak Vaele Top11 | Location: Lapis Palace | Wearing: 01 02

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[social]

The conversation had been light and a little more carefree between the pair as they got acquainted through a game that normally children would play. Well, kids were a bit more social than the prince so maybe that made sense. There were hints of laughter and smiles as they felt the tension of responsibility to marry for the sakes of their kingdoms very briefly leave their shoulders. He could not complain about that. It felt nice to genuinely speak to someone who was in the same position as him. The expectations were not there and it seemed she had little knowledge about Daemond’s life, which meant he did not feel the need to explain or protect himself.

As the sun disappeared fully behind the ocean, he let out a sigh, knowing that the night was going to end and people would depart, at least the ones who were comfortable sailing at night. Turning to look at Aelina, he parted his lips to speak, perhaps to ask her another question, when he heard unmistakable screams in the distance. Standing up straight, the prince moved towards the side of the balcony and peered over, wondering if something was going on where the commoners were gathered on the shore. But he could not see anything, only smell the slight scent of fire. “That was rather odd-” his words were abruptly cut off as he caught a truly terrifying sight through the corner of his eye.

His body felt sluggish as he turned to watch in horror, the scene before the pair. Beyond the transparent doors, the ballroom erupted in flames and burning bodies. The screams of terror filled the room, though they were slightly muted by the windows. It did not take long for glass to shatter as people panicked and the fire roared with vigor, devouring everything it could. “Watch out!” It did not take long for guests to make their way to the balcony, not bothering to waste time even opening the doors properly. People consumed by fear and panic rarely seemed to think. Daemond pulled Aelina out of the way of the body that tumbled through, having been shoved by the panicked guests.

They trampled over those who fell and flung themselves over the balcony edge, not giving anyone time to catch their breath. Hidden against the edge of the balcony railing, Daemond kept the princess squarely between his arms, his back to the frenzy as he mentally tried to figure out what to do in such a situation. The fire’s progression could really only indicate dragon fire, a dangerous element that was nearly impossible to put out without assistance from the dragons themselves. He did not know where his father was, nor his cousins, or even Aelina’s family. “We need to get out of here as quickly as possible, it’s not safe for you to go inside, we need to get you to the safety of the shore.” While he knew he would help those still frantically running around the ballroom, he wanted to get Aelina to safety as she was not someone trained or prepared for such a dangerous situation. He just hoped he would not grow to regret his choice.

Tags: Aelina Braelor junegloom | Location: Lapis Palace | Wearing: 01

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